#i just find it funny that my first thought on seeing the chicken bomb was 'thats it?'

[becca4leafclover]

Hot take but Pierre's chicken bomb prank was WEAK

I am also a Hermitcraft fan though where their version of a chicken-bombing-the-giant-permieter is rigging in the course of like 3 hours, a large redstone timer module to infinitely produce chickens in an area with a vanilla redstone chunk loader, in a long series of other pranks, ultimately putting the cherry on top of the server's third prank war while the perimeter owner is on vacation for the weekend. Doc came back to like, genuine hundreds of thousands of chickens in his base. THAT'S a chicken bomb!

I will admit the Maxo-Pierre yaoi on the wall was a win for P, don't see that every day on Hermitcraft!

[imagineanime2022]

Aprils Fools (Chuya Edition)

Chuya Nakahara X Fem!Reader Osamu Dazai (Platonic) X Fem!Reader

Word Count: 943

Requested: Anon

Request: Original Request

You were a bit of a prankster, though there were not a lot of people that knew that, you were too shy to pull pranks on people that you didn’t know and people didn’t often talk to you because you gave off a creepy vibe, which wasn’t all together untrue but you didn’t really do anything to help yourself. You did have one friend by the name of Osamu Dazai, he was known for being mischievous and sometimes you’d get dragged into his plans much like today where he bet that you wouldn’t prank Chuya. You never really pranked Chuya because you didn’t want to embarrass him but today was a slow day and it left Dazai scheming and Chuya as his victim, you knew that he had finished his work so you didn’t see the harm in indulging your friend. “If you prank Chuya and you make him scream then, I’ll give you 1000 yen and if I make him scream first then you have to give me 1000 yen.” Dazai said. “Fine.” You nodded.

Your prank was simple, all you did was tape some fake roaches to the inside of his lamp, you knew that he’s be the office later today because some of his subordinates were set to get back later, you don’t know what Dazai had done but as Chuya walked into his office he looked angry. “What happened?” You asked. “Dazai..!” Chuya answered and you looked at him. “What did he do?” You asked. “Messed with my shoes.” He muttered and you looked down and saw what looked like some kind of mixture “tried to tell me I stepped in something, it’s just peanut butter.” “Oh… Did you scream?” You asked. “What? No.” He answered “just damn annoying.” Chuya walked over to his desk and saw down in his chair he took a deep breath and if he had taken any longer you would have chickened out of the prank, you felt bad for agreeing to the bet, unfortunately Chuya did lean forward and flip the light on the shadow of the roaches appeared on his desk, he let out a scream one that you wouldn’t have thought came from him if you weren’t looking at him. “Wow it looks like you won.” Dazai smirked as he leant against the door frame, you didn’t even notice him open the door. “Won what?” Chuya asked through gritted teeth. “A bet, it seems like your girlfriend knows how to make you scream.” Dazai smirked as he threw the note at you before leaving. “I was going to stop you but you turned on the light too fast.” You explained “I’ll just go.” Chuya watched you leave and vowed that he’d get revenge on the both of you.

You woke up the next morning and reached out for your bedside cabinet, you frowned when you didn’t come into contact with it, you opened your eyes and realised that it was further away then you thought, you sat up and reached out to turn off your phone alarm, you got ready as normal but it seemed that you had butter fingers all morning, you could seem to place anything on a counter of reach out the right amount, you groaned as you picked up your keys and started towards the office.

When you got there you bumped into Dazai who had glitter all over him “what happened to you?” You asked. “Someone left an envelope on my desk, I thought it was a gift but it turned out to be a glitter bomb.” Dazai explained as you looked at him, he was covered in pink and blue glitter and you couldn’t help but giggle. “It’s not funny I’ll be finding glitter for weeks!” “I hope that you remember that for the next time that you try to prank me.” Chuya’s voice called out, you both looked at him as he walked over. “You're the one that sent that bomb?” Dazai asked. “Wait! What about her!? She pranked you too!” “Yeah and she had something else.” He answered. “Wait… Did you do something with my house? Everything seemed to have moved but nothing looked different, I made a mess while trying to make breakfast this morning.” You mumbled. “Like I said, make sure that I’m not the victim of your stupid pranks.” He glared before walking away. “No wait, what did you do to my house?” You asked. “Figure it out!” He ordered as he walked away from you.

Later that day Chuya came over and when you opened the door for him you looked genuinely distressed “I don’t understand.” You mumbled as you looked around. “What is wrong with you?” Chuya asked. “I don’t understand what you did.” You mumbled as you looked around. “You still haven’t figured that out?” He asked, for a second he got some satisfaction from your confusion but that quickly changed and he sighed. “You promise to never do anything like that again?” He asked. “I promise, just please tell me what you did!” You pleaded. “I moved everything a little to the left.” He answered, you looked at your apartment and your eyes widened as you realised what it was that had been messing with you all morning. “Come on, I'll help you move everything back.” “You don’t have to do that, it’s my fault.” You muttered. “Just shut up and let me help.” He ordered and you nodded quietly as you started moving everything back into place. “I promise I won’t do it again.” You finally said and he nodded. “Damn right you won’t.” He muttered as you both set about setting your apartment right.

Request Here!!

[itsdappleagain]

CS WEEKLY #2 BABY! Oh yeah two part opener. Also ummmm its still Saturday right?? Haha...I'm late.

ANYWAY HERE WE GOOOO

How. did they not hear her in there lmaooo

If Player was tracking her altitude as well can you imagine what he thought when she suddenly plummeted from a plane wheeze

I love the "I don't have a parachute" line 1/ its so black sheep. its so cute 2. YOU DIDN'T??? THINK OF THAT??

gay people. also glad el topo got over his fear of heights with his bf around

tigress meowing and flailing around whe gray kicks her out of the helicopter is the funniest fucking thing also can helicopters even get to heights that you can parachute from? I guess so

black sheep is so lucky cracker was the last one to jump can you imagine she just grabs tigress by the shoulders or something

POV you have a parachute

I LOVE THE HANDHELDISH CAMERA AS THEY DROP OUT OF SCREEN AND THEN IT FOLLOWS THEM DOWN AS THEY SPIRAL AND ZOOMS THATS MY FAVORITE ANIMATION STYLE EVER

here starts my gripe (well publicly) with gina rodriguez for being a mediocre voice actor imo. like black sheep, plummeting at maximum velocity and only clinging on my her fingertips to safety: um don't let go :/

gray sounds like such an older brother wheeze WHAT'LL MOM AND DAD DO WHEN THEY FOUND OUT U SNUCK OUT WITH ME

also black sheep is so funny. who cares >:) I'll be long gone WHERE. WHERE ARE YOU GOING. also, at this point she isn't trying to defect. what is she going to do? steal something? that seems like a good way to get forever grounded, stealing something random without authority

the little "uhg" scoff black sheep does. she's such a teenager

what is emitting THAT MUCH LIGHT FROM THAT ARCHWAY

chickens do fly, cleo, chickens do fly

mime bomb is so funny its such a shame they couldnt have him in season 2 because they couldn't get his voice actor back

ohhh i forgot they did the title card after the ominous cleaners thing i love that so much

CASABLANCA!!!! SHE IS IN MOROCCOOOO also my headcanon is that casablanca was the first movie carmen ever saw when she escaped vile. I HAVE PROOF TOO she references the movie in TSONTS so hah.

i hope she still has that picture she took

all these doorways are blindingly lighted

ALL OF BLACK SHEEP'S BRAINCELLS RUBBING TOGETHER TO COME UP WITH A REASON SHE'S AT THIS RANDOM ASS DIGSITE

carmen was a dinosaur kid confirmed

i LOVE how she jumps down the ramp its so. shes such a kid

i like how black sheep is characterized- doesn't care about stealing, finds it like a game, interested in reward and loves the risk. i just...find it hard to believe that one guy changed her mind completely from 15 years or whatever of conditioning from VILE. idk. i guess i understand how seeing some guy almost die at the hands of your brother figure would shake you up but carmen puts her WHOLE pussy into taking down VILE after that one five minute conversation

THERE'S NO EXPRESSION ON HER FACE AS THE DIGSITE GUY TALKS TO HER AT ALLL ITS SO FUCKING FUNNYY shes just like brrrrrrrr ohg i have morals now...

i love the order of black sheep going "gray must have cut the power" then thinking about it and being like hmmm and THEN realizing that it must be the caper

i love the way le chevre runs up that wall

IM DYING

why did le chevre??? climb up that wall and then....use the rope...to jump down again.... i mean i know it was for the dramatic split kick to knock out the guards but STILL

the blown kiss ahag

OKAY ANYONE ELSE SUPER CONFUSED BY WHERE EVERYTHING IS HAPPENING OKAY WAIT

it shows us super up close le chevre and tigress taking out guards and workers but then??

WAY UP THERE??

why are they so far away??? the eye of vishnu is right next to black sheep?? or wat no it was far away but then el topo stole it and tunneled...further away? but closer to BS?? why did he do that and not just go offsite to get away? im so confused

also i love that digsite guy sees black sheep confronting the thief and goes wow she must be working with them not that he was wrong but

very strange that graham is sort of...the muscle? like he turns out the lights but this time he's also sort of a bodyguard for the gem

as much as I complained about it earlier the moment of realization for black sheep hits so hard

also what was tigress doing up there. did she kill all those people or what because if they left no witnesses did they just. leave a whole digsite full of people dead. like they totally killed Digsite Guy after Black Sheep got chloroform'd right

why did they need to many people for this job wheeze what was le chevre doing there either...its. idk

also she did NOT protect the face HAH

"gray" *smacks him with the stick*

they should have let carmen attempt to hit people violently with a stick more often because she failed so bad it was hilarious

the chloroforming is such a cool thing the cleaners do. like. i know its cliche but the fight way later on in season 4 is so much scarier because carmen is so weakened. i'll get to the parallels of that scene with this one way down the line in s4 tho

the added animation of carmen and gray gently rocking as the train stops/starts is my FAVORITE DETAIL EVER

oh fuck i forgot they do let carmen hit gray violently with a stick later on in the ep nevermind

OKAY HEY JACKIE AND I FOUND OUT (via CS Dream's big analysis video) THAT THEY CHANGED GRAY'S EXPRESSION POST-RELEASE IN THE GRADUATION SCENE? SO HERE'S THAT HE USED TO BE SMILING

The absolute delicious irony of Shadow-san being the one to say "No one or thing must stand int he way of achieving our goals" when HE brought Carmen back OH MY GODD

"you've earned your place at our elite table" all of season two's VILE arc entirely disproves that

evil evil evil evil evil evil evil ev

that sneer carmen let's lose when she repeats "evil" is so fucking good they almost never let her be that expressive or disdainful again

also the lean forwards as she says her entire upbringing was a lie is so. idk. almost intimate? she doesn't say it nonchalantly, sitting back and sneering. she leans forward. its important to her.

"steal lives" could be the worst decision the show had to make due to the young rating. but also consider: its funny carmen is going on about how her life was a lie and how crime causes irreparable harm and then she goes STEALING LIVES

anyone else forget chase exists every time they watch this episode. ALSO HEY. SHOUT OUT TO MOTIFS BECAUSE CARMEN'S THEME AND CHASE'S THEME ARE SO DISTINCT AND ARGEHGGSHDSHGRHGWH BARK THEY'RE SO GOOD THEY REPETITIVE HEAVY BRASS OF CHASE'S THEME BRAZENLY ANNOUNCING HIM IS SUCH A GOOD DECISION

the hood flying off of the car i mentioned it in my last cs weekly post but. its so funny

they get to that point so fast the steals from other thieves thing. i dream to see a mystery unveiling of that but only in my fanfic dreams

did he ever hang up on her or did she just hear him kick the door and then distantly commandeer a plane

he's so sinister about "your name" like why was that so menacing girl

carmen putting on that confident mask after crackle crackles on the crackle rod

someone's already mentioned brunt's bone-crushing hug foreshadowing and just. ough.

when black sheep comes back to the island and coach hugs her there are to uniformed students in the back...i wonder if thats the new class or if they're leftover from last year? because black sheep says she's all alone

girl it wasn't an escape attempt you didn't want to defect from VILE the first time

i love the raindrop running down her face like a tear when she decides to leave the dolls

ITS BEEN LIKE A YEAR WHY ARE THEY STILL TALKING ABOUT BLACK SHEEP'S PHONE

i like the detail of black sheep looking up before its revealed that she hid in the ceiling

strudelhaus of dusseldorf

"strange people have been answering your phone" i wonder if player ever talked with the faculty jshagjhfad

player's like OH YEAH YOURE A CRIMINAL and then shes like yeah but not like that and hes just like oh ok sure. cool

RITAAAA

i love the precursor to the comm earrings

maelstrom and booker give ex energy

the type of physical comedy they use with carmen saying that she has to be undetected and then showing mime bomb watch her say it is so fucking funny and so fucking underutilized

ALSO WITH CARMEN SAYING SHHH QUIET TO A MIME

i also like the detail of mb throwing the flower away

that animation of bs's hair as she whips around at mb is so cool

also the gag of mb running in place he's so funny

OKAY hi i'm obsessive but the details of both here and in the boston episode (carmen's first caper) bs/carmen is OUT OF BREATH when she's running but she isn't in later episodes WE CAN SEE HER GET IN SHAPE AS SHE DOES CAPERS isnt that cool???

the music picking up as black sheep races towards the elevator!!

HI OLD WITWICS THEME MUSIC IN THE ELEVATOR <3333

this is an underrated scene i think. of course later there's the physical "passing on of the hat" from rita to gina but this conversation is kind of...that. the old from the new. idk its really cool :)

"my you've grown" you saw her last year and she looked exactly the same

i like to think that black sheep realized she was being a dick to cookie booker after the eye of vishnu heist because idk. you know what its a cool little development moment

she looks so happy about the apology being accepted its so sweet <3 i mean. she does steal from her seconds after but

does she switch the hard drive as cookie exits or when they shake?? has to be when she exits but how the hell did she do that

RED LIGHTING!!!! we gotta know carmen's gonna come out on top now <33 ALSO the coat!!! the coatttttt

i adore how black sheep slumps down in the muck defeated and screaming no she's so dramatic about it

its like she dies

THE RED LIGHT ON THE SWORD GGRR R RBARK BRBWERB BARK CS COLOR THEORY HE'S ACTUALLY HELPING HER THE WHOLE TIME

THE SKID AS BS BACKPEDALS WHEN SHE SEES BOOKER IS SO COMEDICALLY PERFECT

CARMEN'S THEME GOING OFF FOR THE FIRST TIME (WHILE WE SEE HER AS BLACK SHEEP) WHEN SHE SEES RITA'S OG COAT AND HAT IS MY FAVORITE ITS SO GOOD AGHHH

how those stilts are staying in the shoes i will never know

also we never see those stilts again, kinda sad :( woulda been cool to have an operative who used em

the arrivederci imitation was SO BALLSY

cookie after the kid she made up with and gave life advice ties her up and shoves her in a closet five minutes later:

i love the shot of carmen running down the beach towards the boat in the coat from far away

realizing that shadow-san came directly from cutting the heli wires when he told the cleaners to prep air support...

captain was super ready to straight up shoot bs with a spear gun

THAT RUN AND JUMP WITH THE STILTS AND HEELS? I DONT THINK SO

also the look of regret when she knocks out the captain like maybe she wishes she could apologize to him too..

i like that boris seems to have a bit of a soft spot for black sheep- both of them, actually

OH MY GOD THE WIRES BEING RED TOO this sounds like "WHAT COLOR IS THE DOOR AND WHAT DOES IT MEAN" but i swear to god its intentional its theory its

shadowsan, barreling at the boat with a sword out: this surely looks friendly and approachable, and i should keep the sword up though i am much too far away from anyone who could stop me

do you think they have a driving class on vile island but bs was too young to take it or

anime protag?

again. the score is so good RELEASE AN OST RELEASE IT

black sheep. he cant hear you

THE VICTORIOUS USE OF HER THEME AS SHE DRIVES AWAY IT KILLS MEEE

carmen presses the arrow key to call player

the tenderness and relief in her voice as she tells him she made it out absolutely kills me every time. also player being comparatively nonchalant when he answers because he doesnt know how dangerous vile really is yet..

player u already triangulated her position like 8 months ago when she got off the first time but ok

also shocked carmen didnt figure that out herself after they landed in MOROCCO? CASABLANCA, MOROCCO BY HELICOPTER?? what other islands were there????

anyway

pulled her name from a hat

also. her theme again. yes i will keep pointing out themes and motifs

the only thing about the cs artstyle is...those 3/4 profiles. yikes.

chase looks great 👍 also where the hell did he land that thing

i find gray's orders to kill carmen if she didn't come home surprising, seeing as for the rest of the damn series they try to just capture her

carmen took all that time to say her name HE LITERALLY COULD HAVE JUST KILLED YOU your last words could have been "i told you i go b"

this fight is actually really fun. the arcs of electricity as gray smashes down on where her head was three seconds earlier, their physical strength grappling to keep the other away as carmen figure out how to disarm him

god the setup for the finale with this fight right at the very start. i KNOW it wasnt supposed to be setup but it is now

oh wait she doesnt hit him with a stick she kicks him. shit. nevermind. still a cool ass kick tho

they don't ever protect the face. PAPER STAR DOES THOUGH ACTUALLY she's cool

that must have hurt her knee so bad snapping the crackle rod. the metal crackle rod

SEE HERE NOW PLAYER BEING CONCERNED OVER HER DISAPPEARANCE

THE WAY SHE LOOKS BACK AND DISAPPEARS BEHIND THE POLE MWAHG CHEFS KISS

also chase is so funny too

julia's still so polite to him </3 u dont have to be girl

ive never noticed players little pat of the hard drive when he talks about the entries that was cute

cs does a pretty good job of transition sentences between episodes. this one mentions indonesia, indonesia mentions ecuador, ecuador mentions the vermeers, so on and so forth

its almost like...you'll always have paris...right? riiight

they literally only use "red-eye" because it has red in it i love it <3

and we've set up acme!!! ahhh this is good

AND THE CUT TO BLACK WITH THE MUSIC MMM

okay. solid episode <333333 sorry it was so late. BYE NOW!

p.s. ah yes, vile "never leave a witness" and also "hide in plain sight" crime organization...makes sense

[purplesurveys]

1695

Do you like to see it snowing outside? I can’t relate to this question at all.

Do you tell your family you love them enough? No, we’re not the type to. My mom is probably the most vocal about saying it, but I stopped saying it back in my teenage years after I got fed up with the pettiness and the mean things that she would say when angry or annoyed.

Do you like getting jewelry or do you not wear any? I never wear any, but funny you mention this – for context, Reena had gifted me a necklace with a purple heart pendant last Christmas, but I lost it a few weeks after. I knew it couldn’t have fallen somewhere out as I was at home the entire time I owned it, so I just assumed it fell into some pile in some room here and that it was gonna show up again someday.

Fast forward to yesterday(!!!) I was decluttering some things and finding what I could possibly sell, and I finally found the necklace again! It turned out to just be in my storage box of BTS freebies lol. I’m wearing it now and haven’t taken it off since.

When you were in high school did you ever have bomb threats? Never had to deal with that in the two schools I attended.

Did/Do you get school cancellations because of snow? Not snow, but typhoons, yes.

Would you consider anyone your best friend? Yes, I have two.

Who knows ALL of your secrets? I really don’t think anyone does besides myself. < This is true. Everyone knows bits and pieces of me, including secrets, but nobody knows every single thing there is to know.

Do you think Santa is stupid or do you like that type of thing? It’s cute for kids but as an adult I really don’t care. Do you watch a lot of NFL football? I have never watched an NFL game and have no interest in doing so.

Have you ever used the word ‘lame’? Sure.

Do you eat dinner with your family every night? Only when my dad is home. Otherwise, we kind of it have it on our own.

Did you have a job before you were in college? Nope. I started my first job after college.

Are you failing any of your classes at the moment? I haven’t been in school since 2020.

Have you ever thought about what it would be like to have a baby right now? Sometimes. Then I’ll feel good that I don’t have any because I am nowhere near ready to have one.

How are you feeling today? Relaxed but a little resentful that I have some holiday work today. I’m delaying it as much as I can, but I think I’ll finally start after this survey just so I can get the work done quicker.

Have you ever kissed someone and regretted it later? Not really, no.

Do you lift weights? I don’t work out.

Have you used Limewire before? I haven’t actually. I’ve seen it being used, but I never used it for myself. Are you/Were you in a band? If so, what was your band name? Was never in one.

Are you on birth control? Nopes.

Have you ever tried cocaine or heroin? I have not.

Do you know what a kettle weight is? I think I do?

Do you have any siblings? Younger or older? Two younger ones. Does your phone slide or flip? Neither; it’s just a touchscreen.

Have you ever had a one night stand? No.

Are you craving anything right now? Nothing in particular. When I’m nervous, all cravings are thrown out the window. Do you or any of your friends have children? None of them have any yet.

When’s the last time you smoked? Like, a cigarette? ...Idk, three or four years ago, I think.

Who is your last sent text to? I don’t feel like checking. Do you hate one word texts? Depends on the context. If it was clear that I needed them to elaborate, then I would be pretty irritated, yes.

Have you ever eaten at Chipotle before? I have never eaten at an actual Chipotle, but things here get called Chipotle all the time. Like Army Navy has this Chipotle chicken sandwich that probably has like Chipotle sauce(????) or something. It’s my favorite thing to order, but idk how close it is to the actual Chipotle restaurant.

Do you own any volleyball spandex? I don’t.

Does you breath need to be freshened? Uhhhhhh I think I’m good for now, lol. It’s coffee breath at most.

When is the last time you went to the doctor? I went to the dentist a month ago if it counts.

Do you swear often? Yes.

Is the taste of alcohol appealing to you? Eh, it’s fine. I don’t drink alcohol because I like the taste tbh, but it’s not like I find its general taste terrible (unless the mixing/ratio is way sloppy).

Do you own any shirts with a peace symbol on it? I don’t.

Have you ever dyed your hair light auburn? I haven’t, doesn’t seem like a shade I’d get for my hair.

Do you have fair skin? Not at all. It’s very tan.

Ever had ice cream dots? I have no idea what those are.

Do you have your national flag hanging up anywhere outside your house? No. I’ve only ever seen those done at the houses of diplomats.

Would you ever go to Japan? Sure, but only if it were free. I’m largely not interested.

What was the last thing you went to Walmart for? I have never been to a Walmart.

How are you feeling right now? I’m feeling okay, thank you for asking. A little anxious, but it’s manageable.

What are you doing right now? I’m taking this and listening to Yoongi.

What should you be doing right now? It SHOULD be nothing as it’s a holiday off work, but I have to do some work in a few.

Ever gotten in a car accident? Very minor ones and no one was ever hurt.

Are you afraid of getting your heart broken? It’s not that I’m afraid. I just don’t want to go through the hassle of it ever again.

Who did you last ride in a car with? Celeste.

Why did you last cry? I was watching Jimmy Darts videos, haha.

Are you hungry right now? If so, what are you craving? I’m not, as I had a big lunch earlier but also because I’m feeling a little anxious.

Are you tired? Kind of, but not enough to fall asleep if I put my head down.

Have you ever been in a choir? No.

Do you have a Twitter? Yes.

What did you eat for breakfast today? I skipped it since I woke up at like 10 AM yesterday.

Do you like the color of your eyes? If not, what color would you want them? They’re okay, and I wouldn’t change their color if I could.

Could you go for some hot cocoa right now? No, it’s too hot for a hot drink haha.

Do you like when people play with your hair? Sure! It’s better if you’re closer with me, though.

When was the last time you went ice skating? Probably when I was like 10. I’d love to go back to ice skating; I was actually pretty good at keeping my balance and could stay in the rink for hours.

Describe your retainers to me, if you have them, that is. I have braces, and I have purple ones. Nothing much else to share about them to be honest, lol.

Would you like for someone to call you right now? NOPE.

Do you like to brush your teeth? I mean I have no attachment to the actual task, but it feels nice when your mouth and teeth feel clean.

What time is it? 5:38 PM.

Have you ever had a surgery? I have not.

Give out your phone number over the internet? Only when I’m signing up for an account somewhere or making a transaction.

Do you look older or younger than you actually are? Younger. Like, “can I see an ID?” levels of looking young.

When is the next time you’ll be up on stage? Idk.

Where did you spend your last birthday at? I was just at home, but I did spend it with friends over.

What is the last show that you watched a full episode of? Friends.

Do you know anyone who lives in Utah? Nope. Is there anything you need to work on doing soon? Yes.

Do you get your feelings hurt easily? I am pretty sensitive, yes.

Do you, or do you know someone who has taken karate lessons? Not karate, but my cousin took taekwondo as a kid. I know several others who do taekwondo too; one of them used to be in my university’s taekwondo varsity.

Were you ever a boy or girl scout? No.

[notcaring99]

3 AM Vibes (Reader x Male Avengers Head Cannon)

Request: “Hey! Could you do headcanons or a fic for the avengers (I dont care who) with a reader who is really quiet and shy/smart at first but the once you get to know them they are a complete dumbass? Like 3 am random conversations, random energy bursts, blurting out stupid stuff, just crazy and funny in general.” 

A/N: Hello readers! I have never done a headcanon before so I thought I would try it out. Here are the Avengers’ reaction when you (a super quiet smart girl) gets a bit weird. Thank you for all of your support and patience! If you submit a request, I thank you a lot! I am going to try and write in my free time since I miss you all so much. Hope you enjoy! 

Steve: 

Steve would be laughing at your silly questions after you asked them. “Why is water wet?” “Are we even real?” or his favorite, “What did come first the egg or the chicken?”. He is very amused at your questions, but would let you ramble on about your reasoning about each one. The crazy moment he likes the most is when you are dancing crazily all of a sudden when you were bored with your calculations. You would go up to him and start dancing away making him laugh at how crazy you are. He likes that only a select few get to see this side of you. 

Tony: 

Tony was glad he could find someone as smart as you to talk through calculations with, but he hated how quiet you were. One night you both were in the lab trying to figure out a way to make his suit fly more effeciently. You both have been up for 20 hours plus. “What did you say were your calculations?” Tony asks you, but sees you are huddled into the hood of your hoodie with your arms tucked into your sweater. You were swaying your loose sleeves around like propellers making small helicopter noises. Tony just observes you for a moment until you made eye contact with him. “How come airplanes can fly but humans can physically fly? I mean I know the math for it, but why?” you ask putting your arms through your sleeves. He just laughed at your question but you kept on rambling excitedly. Tony was amused as you defended your question and your random jumping up and down as you got excited at answering points of your own question.

Clint: 

Clint met you while you were physically defusing a bomb, but after a few meetings with you he got to know the crazier side to you. It was early in the morning, and Clint was coming to get you for a meeting with the rest of the team. He walked in to see you hanging off your bed with a pencil in your mouth as you were talking to yourself about something ridiculous that he couldn’t even understand. When you saw Clint, you fell off your bed head first before laughing so hard that you were crying. Clint was disturbed at first, but shook his head in amusement before leaving your room. 

Thor: 

When Thor first met you, he had crack energy himself. He thought you were just as boring as the rest of the Avengers, but then he saw you randomly dancing in your room before jumping off your bed and onto the ground. When he walked in you stopped until he started singing horribly and joining you with terrible dancing. You both just started after the song was over, quite literally rolling on  the ground. 

Bruce: 

Bruce liked how you were as quiet as he was. He liked spending time with you. That is until he really go to know you. You were both reading in a quiet room until you started making popping noises with your mouth. “Look Bruce!” You started to make the popping noises louder making him look at you weirdly. “Sorry,” You quickly apologize before you both go back to reading. You suddenly sigh and put your book in your lap roughly. “You know what doesn’t make sense,” Bruce looks at you over his book with his eyebrows raised. “How can someone turn green when they are sick? I have never seen anyone actually turn green when they are sick.” Bruce just looked at you unamused as you keep going on about being green. 

[giorno-plays-piano]

hey!! i love your writing sm💕 idk if you’re still taking requests or if you’re comfortable w a like platonic or father figure yandere. But how about yan! Steve Rogers where he kidnaps a teenage girl to be his daughter then shields her from the world to “protect” her kinda like rapunzel. if you don’t want to that’s no problem at all tho💕

Hi, sweetie! This is a very peculiar request, and I really, really like it! I guess I’ve made Steve a little softer than I expected, but here he is. Hope you’re going to enjoy this!

The one he cares about

Pairing: adoptive dad!Steve & Reader, Peter Parker x Reader (if you squint)

Warnings: yandere, obsession (non-romantic!), stalking, kidnapping, death of minor characters (but nothing too scary).

Words: 1870.

P.S. Just to clarify this is NOT an incest story, Steve does not harbor any romantic feelings for the reader, he loves her like a parent does.

__________________

Pacing up and down nervously like a caged tiger, Steve threw a glance at the clock on the kitchen wall, ready to take out his cellphone and give you a call. It was just 10 pm, but he felt something wasn't going quite right. Was everything ok at that party? Were you enjoying yourself? Did you finally confess to that silly guy Steve didn't like at all? What if he had already got you, Steve's precious little daughter, into bed?

Breathing in deeply, the man tried calming himself down. You were an adult. At one point you would start dating people, and it was perfectly alright, Sam reminded him the other day. You weren't some princess locked in a tower with Steve guarding you like an angry dragon. You had the right to love and be loved, create your own family, for God's sake. When he thought of you leaving him Steve was ready to break that kitchen wall.

No, no, no, it was alright. You loved him with all your heart, and no stupid guy could take it away from Steve. He was your father. Adoptive father, of course, but he did everything he could to make you trust and love him as much as you true family. You were calling him dad, after all. And even if you eventually married someone, Steve would always stay close to help and support you - and your kids, if you ever decide to have any. At the thought of him kissing the cheeks of his cute little grandchildren Steve had finally relaxed.

Oh, was it the sound of the front door opening? As much as he wanted to rush to meet you, the man quickly put on his apron he ironed this morning and turned to the heated stove to put a meat pie in it. Alright, alright, you were already home, it was perfect.

But why so early? Steve was really generous this time and gave you till 1 am - of course, if you took a taxi, not go walking the streets in the night. Did something go wrong? Did the guy reject you? Did he take advantage of you? Did he... do something he shouldn't have?

Steve felt his blood boiling. In a second he was ready to storm out of the kitchen to beat the shit out of that bastard who was stupid enough to hurt his child.

"Hi dad! I'm home!"

As you walked in, carrying your beaded clutch in your arms and yawning tiredly, Steve put a smile on his face momentarily, assessing whether you were hurt within a couple of seconds. No, apparently, you were alright: you moved just like before; your hair wasn't ruffled, and your makeup wasn't smeared eather. He had overreacted again.

"Welcome back, sweet pea." Steve moved closer to you, giving you a tight hug and a kiss on the forehead as you giggled softly, throwing your arms around his broad back. "How did it go?"

As your face turned gloomy for a fleeting second, he knew his sixth sense wasn't lying to him: something didn't go well.

"Nah." You brushed it off as you sat on the chair, carelessly leaving your clutch on the table and stretching your legs with a loud sigh.

"What is it, sweetie?"

Furrowing his brows, Steve sat across from you, his hands folded as he stared at you with worry. Shit, did this guy try doing something funny? Did he offend you? Oh, Steve was going to have a nice talk with him, a moron who thought he could do this to his little girl and it would never come back at him. Should he call Natasha? Maybe Bucky? He knew they were still in town. No, no, he would take this matter in his own hands and go have a nice talk with that stupid ungrateful ba-

"It's alright, I swear." You muttered and forced a smile, drawing his attention back to you. "He just... well, just didn't return my feelings."

"Did he reject you?"

For a second Steve felt both relieved and ready to go murder that kid in a cold blood. Rejected you? The prettiest and smartest girl in the town with a heart of gold? Who did that little shit think he was, rejecting Steve's precious daughter?

But it was better than him forcing you to do something you didn't want. At least that asshole didn't do anything inappropriate to you, probably too scared to face your angry dad who could crack his skull with one hand.

"Not like reject in the full sense of the word, but... um, I feel like he was a little scared of me." Your smile turned bitter, and you leaned onto Steve, pressing your forehead into his chest as you exhaled loudly.

Well, it wouldn't be the first time it happened. Everybody around knew you were the daughter of retired Captain America, and people were treating you with such caution as if you were some time bomb, clearly unwilling to make the world's first Avenger angry. Partly, it was a good thing since no one tried messing with you. However, you were also left pretty much alone, ignored by the majority for the sake of their own well-being. Although you had found several friends, dating someone was a completely different thing: guys were running away from before you even spoke to them.

"I'm so sorry." The man said quietly, rubbing your back and gently caressing your head with his other hand. "This is my fault."

You sighed, lifting your head and looking at Steve so tenderly he suddenly felt like he was the happiest man in the world. What, weren't you upset?

"Come on, dad." His heart sped up when you called him that, and he was ready to lift you up in the air, kissing his little girl's nose. "I thought he's different, but he's just a chicken like all other guys. I'll get over him soon."

"Hard to live up to our standards, I guess." Steve smiled and pinched your nose a little, making you laugh again. "But you need to know I am really sorry, sweat pea. I swear I wouldn't stand in your way if you decided he was the right guy for you."

Actually, Steve pretty much would, but you wouldn't know about it. Happiness of his only child was the only thing that mattered to him now: what was the point of being a parent if you couldn't make your kid happy?

"It's okay, really, dad. I wouldn't change the things as they are now. When I think what could happen if you didn't see me on the street that night... uh-huh." You didn't finish the sentence, not that you needed to.

If Steve didn't find you that night desperately searching for food on the streets of New York, you'd probably be dead now.

You were born to a good family, and you spent the first 11 years of your life in a nice place, having loving parents, the roof above your head and food on the table. You were just one more happy kid among thousands of others, neither better nor worse than all of them. It all changed when your parents were killed by two robbers who had broken into your house, and soon you ended up in an orphanage - you still had nightmares about this place. You spent a year there before you escaped, choosing the streets over an orphanage. Silly you, thinking it would be better.

When Steve found you, you were 13. Dirty, always hungry, acting like a little wild animal, you were no more pitiful than any other homeless child, ignored by the majority of people, but Steve saw you. He took you with him - forcefully, of course, because you fought him like a little angry cat, frightened to the core he was going to take advantage of you like all those people pretending to help you. But he didn’t. He was the one who had truly cared.

It took him months to get you accustomed to living in a house again with someone close to you. Steve spent even more time trying to make you trust him, make you believe he was your friend, somebody you could rely on, trust, see as a parental figure. You couldn’t even name all those people he hired to help you: countless psychologists and psychiatrists; doctors and nurses of all kinds; visiting teachers and tutors. Despite liking to live alone, Steve brought so many strangers to his house it felt like living in a royal palace with tons of court attendants. All of this was for you, the only person he cared about, his little child.

When you were 15, you started calling him dad, and that was the day neither Steve nor you would ever forget: he scooped you up and kept swinging you around till your head was spinning while he laughed and shouted how much he loved you, the best daughter he could ever had. 

You never knew the extent to which Steve cared about you, following you secretly when you finally agreed to leave the house - he needed to know you were safe and sound. Of course, he was always there when he supposed someone wasn’t treating you right, and he did everything he could to keep his only child happy. Unfortunately, you were lonely until Steve found a couple of good friends for you, but it was alright. You were perfectly okay now.

“I love you too, sweet pea.” He smiled, caressing your head gently. “But you know what? Don’t worry about that guy. I actually have someone who I want you to meet, and he’s a really sweet kid.”

“Whoa, what? What kid?”

“Well, you know. Kid from work.”

“Dad, what work? What kid?” You rolled your eyes at him, giggling. “How old is he, at least?”

“A little older than you, but he’s alright. He’s been wanting to meet you for some time.” But before Steve wasn’t sure kid was the right guy for you, considering that he was still very much an Avenger and was involved in all kinds of dangerous situations. 

“Dad, what kid? Are you talking about your superhero colleagues or something?” 

“... yeah? I promise, you’ll like him. Peter’s a good kid.”

“Peter? Peter goddamn Parker?!” You exclaimed loudly, realizing he was talking about Spider-Man. “Are you joking?!”

“What did I tell you about swearing, sweetheart?” Furrowing his brows, Steve shook his head in disapproval, but laughed in the very next second, watching your guilty expression. “Alright, alright. I’m not joking. If you’d like to meet him, I’ll ask him to come tomorrow for dinner, ok?”

“Yes, please!”

As he took the pie out of the oven with you waiting at the dinner table, Steve thought about giving the kid a big lecture about what he was and wasn’t supposed to do to you, but he was more or less sure Peter knew what was right and wrong. Steve could spot that familiar glint in kid’s eyes when he was looking at your photo that Steve had been showing him proudly. 

It would turn out alright. Your father was ready to do anything it takes to make you happy.

___________________________

Tags: @finleyjayne @alexakeyloveloki @helenaeisenhower @villanellevi @hurricanerin @inlovewiththefictionalcharacters @abyssaint @heeeyitskay @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @navegandoaciegas @rosalynshields @brattycherubwrites @sllooney @angrythingstarlight @lookiamtrying @buckysbunny @soleil-dor @stargazingfangirl18 @dillybuggg @literate-lamb @cosicas-cuquis @iheartsebastianstan @lovelydarkdaydream @sarge-barnes-sir

[brianc521]

Emotions | Raul Mendes

Calm.

It was too calm in the house. 

You practically tiptoed in the door, eyes darting back and forth in search of some sort of noise. Raul was a loud person. Out of the Mendes Triplets, anyone would guess Shawn would be the loud one, but that couldn’t be any more wrong. 

Peter was the quiet one by default, he spent his time with his thoughts. Shawn spent his time with his words, noise mixing in in the form of guitar strings. Raul spent his time with his noise. He liked to listen to music loud. He liked to work on his bike in the garage. He liked to laugh loud, to play games and cuss wildly into his headset. 

Entering a calm house that belonged to Raul was like walking into a warzone. You knew something was wrong, and you braced yourself for the impact you were about to receive. 

You turned the corner and found him sitting in the living room. He was looking at his phone, the TV was off, the light wasn’t even on.

“Raul?” You spoke softly. 

He looked up, face red in anger, knuckles white from his grip on his phone. 

“What?” He spits, as if the taste of the words is the most disgusting thing in the world. 

“Just wanted to say hi.” You smiled softly at him, trying to keep your voice low and soothing. 

He rolled his eyes, looking back to his phone.

You had to fight the look of hurt off your face, knowing that showing little emotion is the best way to work around his mood. Any sudden movements and his bomb will go off.

It’s not the first time something like this has happened. The better part of it now is you know how to react. Last time you pestered him until he exploded, leaving you with a night of tears and him out on a drive to cool off until 3 am. 

It was the first real fight you two had, and it was a bad one. In moments like this all Raul is seeing is red, and you know he doesn’t mean what he’s saying, but it doesn’t mean his actions don’t hurt. 

You walked to the kitchen, setting your purse down on the counter, followed by your keys. You walk further into his kitchen, prepared to make dinner like always. You were thinking maybe some pesto chicken with green beans. It’s been your favorite meal lately and you bought chicken just for it.

Opening the fridge you squatted to grab the chicken cuts from the bottom shelf. You furrowed your brows when you didn’t find it. You’re absolutely positive you placed it here, mainly because you knew Raul wouldn’t think to look there. You check the rest of the fridge and come up empty.

You close the fridge and look around in confusion. What the fuck happened to your chicken? 

“Raul Baby?” You call out, walking around the corner to look at him.

“Oh my god, what?” He snapped, looking over at you.

“Sorry, just, have you seen the chicken that was in the fridge?” 

He sighs, clearly annoyed. “Yes, fucking had it for lunch.” 

Your whole face drops, you were so excited for this meal, it was the one thing you were looking forward to. It made your work day bearable knowing you’d be with Raul and you pesto chicken at the end of your day.

“What?” He asks, glaring at you. “Am I not allowed to fucking eat?”

“You are,” You nod, “It’s just, I planned on making that for dinner.” 

“Well tough luck?”

“There were three pieces.” You remember out loud.

“Shawn and Peter were over, perfect portions.” 

“Oh.” You look back at the kitchen.

“What?” He groans, throwing his head back against the couch cushions.

“Well, I don’t know what to make for dinner now.” You look back at him, “Do you have any ideas?” You ask, trying to hold back your disappointment.

“Well considering I ate dinner already, I’d say no, the fuck I don’t.”

“You ate dinner already?” You ask, staring at him appalled.

“Again, am I not fucking allowed to eat?” 

“Okay,” You’ve had it. “I’ve tried to be nice and caring because I can tell somethings wrong. But I’m not digging the attitude.”

“I’m the one with an attitude?” He scoffs.

“You know what.” You turn, grabbing your purse. “I don’t need this.” You take your keys, heading for the door.

At this Raul looks up, watching you walk away. “Gonna leave now?” He snickers. 

You don’t even respond, you just slam the door on your way out. Raul stares at the door, waiting for you to burst back in and rant off about how he was being a dick. But you never do, instead he hears your car peel out of the complex garage. 

He hates when you drive upset, it makes him anxious. Not knowing where you’re going, and if you get there safely. 

**

It’s been three hours since you left and he’s absolutely losing his mind. 

iMessage to Wifey💍: Okay, come back now

The message stays on delivered for over 32 minutes before he’s texting again.

iMessage to Wifey💍: Baby, I’m sorry, please come back

That message stays on delivered for 17 minutes before he really starts going crazy. 

iMessage to Wifey💍: You’re starting to stress me out, please just respond. 

When that message stays on delivered he calls, but gets sent straight to voicemail. The sound of you telling him to leave a message after the beep has his heart thumping deeply in his chest. It’s pounding against his rib cage and he’s pretty certain that if someone was staring at him you could see his heart beat out of his chest like a cartoon.

“Baby, I just wanna know you’re okay. I’m a little scared right now, and I just, you can be mad at me. I was being a jerk and I’m sor-” He gets cut off, the voicemail cutting off his stuttering blubbering mess. 

He calls back, still being sent to voicemail. The beep sounds, his hand is lost in his curls, and he’s pacing so much he’s sure he’s wearing a hole in the floor.

“I’m sorry, it cut me off when I was saying sorry. I just wanna know you’re okay. You don’t have to talk to me, just at least text me that you’re okay. Okay? I love you and I’m worried.” 

He beats the voicemail, but he’s refreshing his phone every second, and every second you don’t respond is another tick to his anxiety. 

He can’t help himself, before he knows it he’s in his jeep and parking in front of your place. He’s not helping his heart rate when he realizes your car isn’t there. He sits outside your front door, head propped on the door itself, thumb nail getting chewed to shreds. 

**

He looks up with red, tearful eyes when he hears footsteps sounding closer.

“Raul?” You breathe out, stopping when you find him.

He’s been waiting for almost 45 minutes now. His face is pale, and his hair is wild from the amount of times he’s run his fingers through it. 

He jumps to his feet, eyeing you up and down multiple times. 

“Are you okay?” He asks, stepping forward, hands out to hug you. 

But you back away, trying to read his face, see his eyes. They flash with hurt when you back away from him.

“Baby?” He asks, voice breaking. He takes another step forward, and you take another step back. His whole face, you watch it crumble, the tears that were threatening to fall do. A sob racks through his chest and he covers his mouth with his hand. “Are you afraid of me?” He asks, trying to read your face through his tears. 

“I just,” You choke out.

“Oh my god.” He sobs. “You are.” 

“No, I just,” You sigh, taking those two steps forward to bring yourself closer to him. “I’m just trying to gauge your mood.” 

“I’m sorry.” He cries, hands trembling as he holds them together, to prevent himself from falling into you. “I was so rude,” He shakes his head. “I’m sorry.” 

“Raul what the fuck happened tonight?” You ask, tilting your head so you look up at him. “I mean fuck, you asked me to come over!” You settle your hands on your hips. 

He nods, swallowing thickly, adam's apple bobbing with the movement.  

“If you didn’t want me to come over then you should have texted me back saying so.”

“I did want you over.” He whispers.

“Had a funny way of showing it.” You raise an eyebrow at you. “You won’t speak to me that way again.” You shake your head at him. “You can be upset, it’s okay to get angry and mad, but to lash out at me? Not fucking okay.” 

“I know,” He nods, “I know, I’m so sorry.” He goes to reach for you but holds himself back. You sigh deeply, nodding at him to let him know that it’s okay.

His hands tentatively land on your hips, thumbs rubbing soft circles. “I love you.” He whispers, resting his forehead against yours. 

“I love you too.” 

“You’re too good for me. I don’t deserve you.” 

“You’re right, I’m fucking amazing.” You shrug, “But I happen to think you’re amazing too.” You caress his cheek. “I think you just lost it a little tonight.” 

“Lost it when you didn’t respond.” He mutters, “Scared the shit out of me. Like I lost you or something.”

You shrug, causing your nose to nudge his. “Took myself out to dinner.” 

He squeezes his eyes shut, “I’m so sorry Baby. About everything. About speaking to you like that, for not respecting you, for eating your chicken, for eating dinner without you, for letting you walk out, for not chasing after you, for making you scared of me.” His voice broke at the last part.

“I’m not scared of you.” 

“You were, and you never will be again. I never want to see you back away from me. I think my heart might literally shatter.” 

You brace your hands on his chest, and your eyes widen at how fast his heart is beating. “Honey, I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Okay.” He nods, gulping back his emotions.

“Breathe Baby.” 

“I just, I’m trying to wrap my mind around how I treated you.”

“Raul,” You sigh.

“I mean, fuck, I’ll beat any dudes face in for speaking to you with disrespect, but how do I beat my own face in?” 

“Don’t beat your face in, I happen to quite like it.” You grin.

“Stop, don’t lighten the mood.” He shakes his head.

“I forgive you,” You fist his shirt, tugging him closer to you. “We just need a code word for nights like tonight. That way the other knows we're in a bad mood.” 

“Nights like tonight are never happening again. So fuck a code word.” 

You stare at him, face void of emotion. “Raul.” 

“It’s never happening again. I won’t ever, ever, put myself in a position of losing you.” 

“Okay.” You nod, knowing his working himself up again.

“I love you, so much.”

“I love you too.” You smile. 

“Can we go back to my place?” He asks softly. “I really need to hold you tonight, but I also need to pamper you and I got all this new stuff and-”

You cut him off with a kiss. Catching him off guard, smiling against his lips when he goes “umph” but then melts into it. 

“Take me home.” You mutter against his lips.

[phykios]

people on ao3 were thirsty for this fic so... here you go, tumblr ❤ 

put on the red light M, sex work au, modern royalty au, no powers au  [read on ao3]

🌊🌊🌊

Sometimes, she really regrets being best friends with Piper.

Said best friend still gapes at her from across the table, jaw practically on the floor. “Never?”

Annabeth rolls her eyes. “Never.”

“Not even, like, at school?”

“When I would have had the time?” she asks. “I was attempting a five-year program in four years, and then… well, you know.” And she does know, all about the very exciting drama that went down in Annabeth’s senior year.

Piper is still flabbergasted. “Not even high school?”

Annabeth takes a sip of her drink. “I wasn’t exactly a hot commodity in high school.” She’d been passively pretty all her life, but she hadn’t exactly been what some might call Girlfriend material, capital G. She’d stuck to her fifteen year plan to the letter, eschewing most social contact, working herself into the ground to overcome ADHD by sheer force of will and get into Harvard, a plan which allowed approximately zero time for a boyfriend. Not that there were even boys that she had really liked at the time.

The only boy she had ever considered liking in that way, well. She had lost contact with him a while ago.

“I can’t believe this.”

“Believe it or not, Ripley, it’s true. I’ve never had sex. You happy?”

“I mean, if you don’t mind me asking, are you ace?” Piper asks. “Because that’s totally cool, of course.”

She shakes her head. “Definitely not ace.” She has a minor collection of personal massagers and insertable devices should she ever need to take care of an urge, and plenty of fantasies she can call on whenever the need arises--a system which has worked just fine for years.

“I just…” Piper stares, unconvincingly. “How?”

Shrugging, she takes another sip of coffee. “Just never got around to it, I guess.”

It’s not something she’s proud of, but by the same token, it’s not something that brings her shame, either. It is what it is; Annabeth, a notable workaholic, has never had sex with another person in her life. In some ways, it sucks, sure, but in other ways, it’s been a blessing in disguise. After all, no previous partners means that there’s no one to spread any dirt on the newly minted Princess Anja Elisabet of Sweden.

But Piper isn’t having it.

“Do you… want to have sex?” she asks. “Like, ever?”

As the daughter of one of the biggest movie stars in the world, she knows that Piper has had her fair share of high profile relationships, something that earned her a little bit of a nasty (and, quite frankly, racist) reputation among the paparazzi, which is ridiculous, since Piper is one of the most effortlessly gracious and classy people Annabeth knows. Piper does not go slinging herself and her partners around in the media like some of her contemporaries; instead, she likes to keep her personal details a bit closer to the chest, sharing them only with trusted confidants, like Annabeth, who knows full well how much Piper enjoys the act of sex. Sex for Piper isn’t dirty or taboo, it’s fun and it’s being close with other people, it’s liberating and exciting and intimate, and she extols its virtues whenever asked to give her opinion.

She makes sex sound really good, but never in a way that makes Annabeth feel ashamed for never having done it. Until now, of course. “Well… yeah,” says Annabeth. “I’d like to. I mean, I think it’d be kind of nice, you know, to do it at least once.”

“But then you’d have to start dating,” Piper surmises.

“Yeah,” says Annabeth, glumly.

Dating is a notorious problem for people in her line of work. Royalty, not architects, that is. Dating for architects is easy; just find someone who doesn’t mind the type A personalities and the obsession with work. Dating for royals is… significantly harder, and not really something she wants to engage with right now. She’s only been a royal for a few years, after all—she still feels like it’s a big cosmic joke, that someone is going to unearth some old documents or reveal a couple of forgeries that will bring the whole thing crashing down, and she doesn’t want to bring an outsider into all that drama, let alone deal with it herself.

Piper takes a sip of her drink, thoughtful, then lays out her next question carefully. “Have you ever considered a one-night stand?”

Annabeth stares. “You’re kidding me.”

“I’m not! People do it.”

“Yeah,” she scoffs, “people. Not me.”

“It’s really not hard,” Piper says, “I’ve done it plenty of times.”

“What, you want me to make a tinder?”

She laughs. “God, wouldn’t that be a riot. But no, I mean, there have to be other single royals or celebs around. Why not one of them?”

“Because they’re all insufferable social-climbing jackasses that make me want to rip my skull out of my face every time I’m forced to listen to them at a state dinner.”

“Okay, then.” Never one to be deterred, Piper pulls out her phone, then waits until Annabeth has taken a sip of her drink, presumably to keep her from immediately disagreeing, before dropping the bomb to end all bombs. “Let’s get you an escort.”

Annabeth snorts iced coffee directly out of her nose.

“Shit! Sorry!” Piper shoves a handful of napkins at her. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry, do you need water?”

Wheezing, Annabeth shakes her head. “Give me a sec,” she coughs, fingers covering her mouth.

Thank God she’s got her trusty, anti-pap hat on. If anyone took a picture of her like this, her uncle would probably disown her.

“What the hell, Piper?” she rasps when she can finally breathe again.

“I’m so sorry, I should have timed that better.”

“No, I mean—”  she coughs again. “The other thing.”

She raises an eyebrow. “The escort?”

“Keep your voice down!” On instinct, she glances around the London cafe, looking for any stray microphones. Satisfied that no one is listening for the moment, she turns back to her insane best friend. “Yes, the… that thing.”

“It’s not that crazy,” says Piper, turning back to her phone. “We’ll find you a really nice one, someone super high class and discreet, draw up an NDA, and then you can cross it off your bucket list. Man or woman?”

“Man, but—" she sputters. “I—I can’t see a prostitute! Can you imagine the scandal if it got out?”

Forget the iced coffee thing. The princess of Sweden, caught with a hooker… Annabeth is nauseous just thinking about the media circus.

“Not a prostitute,” Piper corrects. “An escort.”

“Isn’t that the same thing?”

“Same umbrella, but no.” She types away, faster than Annabeth can keep track of. “Pimping is illegal here, but escorts usually have managers.”

“Be that as it may,” because Piper seems to have forgotten the key part of this conversation, “I can’t have sex with an escort.”

“Why not?”

“Because…” The million and a half legitimate reasons not to go through with it all fly through her mind, getting lost somewhere on the way to her mouth. “Because!”

Piper just smiles at her. “I’ll get you a really nice one, promise. Think of it as a late birthday present.”

“It’s September.”

“Early Christmas, then.” And she grins, full of teeth. “Just trust me, okay? Let me take care of it.”

Famous last words, she thinks, popping a bit of scone in her mouth.

***

7PM, the Dorchester Hotel. Dinner first, then… whatever, later.

Annabeth can’t help but arrive early. She’d never been a punctual person before, but apparently now it’s been beaten into her with all the rest of her princess training.

Five-star hotels are still something of a novelty for her, even though she’s stayed in quite a few by now. Thankfully she’s never stayed here before; she’d be too worried someone on staff would recognize her.

She had thought that she’d show up early, psych herself up a little, get emotionally prepared, or at least have a little time to calm her racing heart before her… date… showed up.

Unfortunately, as punctual as she is, apparently, he’s beaten her to the punch.

He’s exactly where he said he’d be, wearing exactly what he said he’d be wearing; black suit, blue tie, gold watch. Her heart is beating so loudly, she’s sure he can hear it from across the room. “Um, excuse me,” she asks, a little more timid than she’d like, sidling up to the man. “Paris?”

At his name--well, she assumes it’s his name, but it’s probably a pseudonym now that she thinks about it--he lifts his head up, his lips already quirking up in a smile that she can only describe as troublemaking. “Bethany?”

Right. She used a pseudonym as well. A second pseudonym—one other than Anja. “Yeah,” she smiles in return, her shakiness easing.

“Hey!” He stands up from his seat in the lounge, leaning in and kissing her on the cheek. “It’s so nice to meet you!”

“You too.” She realizes with a pang; he is so tall. He’s tall, with broad shoulders and a trim waist, startlingly green eyes and thick, curly black hair. And… “You’re American?”

“I am,” he says, unashamed. “The accent gave me away, huh? Hope you weren’t looking for something else.”

“No, no, it’s fine,” she assures him. “I just wasn’t expecting it. It’s fine!"

He grins, crookedly, and she feels her heart skip a beat. “I’ll take it. Shall we head to dinner, then?”

***

Dinner was amazing, of course. The food, the atmosphere, and the company, she fully admits—all exceptional. Paris is an amazing conversationalist, she discovers, smart and funny and attentive, even gently teasing her a little. “You’re American, too, you know,” he’d said, sipping on his glass of wine, “so you can’t give me any grief over my lack of an accent.”

“I don’t live here,” she’d retorted, pointing her fork at him, “unlike some people I could mention.”

“Where do you live?”

“Ah, well—” Covering up her hesitation by taking a bite of chicken, she’d thought quickly. “Grew up in the States, but recently I moved to, um, Sweden, to be closer to my family.”

He’d nodded. “Expat, huh?”

“Something like that.”

He’d listened to her, really listened, chimed in at appropriate moments, made surprisingly insightful comments about her job and her life, and, well, he’s kind of perfect. If he weren’t an escort, he’d make an amazing boyfriend. She tells him as much, in the elevator on the way up to his room.

“Aw, thank you!” He smiles at her, a single dimple popping out under his strong cheekbones. “That’s very kind of you to say.”

“Why do you do this, anyway?” she asks. “I mean,” oh God, that question is some kind of faux pas isn’t it, Christ what the hell happened to all her etiquette training, “you don’t have to answer that if you don’t want to—”

“No, it’s okay,” he says as the elevator door opens. They’re up on a high floor, where the higher high rollers like to stay, and she follows him as he walks confidently down the hallway. “It’s not an offensive question.”

Still, she feels pretty shitty for asking. “I’m sure you get asked that all the time.”

“Most clients honestly aren’t all that interested,” he admits, shrugging a shoulder. “They need something, I can provide it. It can be a little transactional at times, but I’ve met a lot of really cool people, so it all balances out in the end.” Arriving at their door, Paris swipes his keycard, holding it open for her like some kind of butler. “After you.”

The room is enormous, even for a five-star hotel. It is a full-on suite, with a seating area and separate bedroom, a large wooden desk off to one wall, a gorgeous, floor-to-ceiling window that looks onto Hyde Park, full of lights dotted about like mini constellations. “Wow,” she breathes, “look at that view.”

“I never get tired of it,” Paris says, coming up behind her. “No matter how many times I come here.”

“You come here a lot?” she asks. She almost follows it up with a question on how he can afford it, but she ruthlessly quashes that down.

“My clients like it,” is all he says.

“I’m not surprised, all that 1930s deco in the lobby. The façade is a little plain, though, in my opinion.”

“Oh yeah? How would you do it better, Miss Architect?” She gets the sense that he’s teasing her. It feels oddly intimate for the situation—he’s not a friend, or a boyfriend, or even a date. He’s an escort. Providing a service, as he put it. He shouldn’t be so friendly with her.

And yet. “Well, I love Neoclassical, but honestly, I’m not super into hotels.”

“What are you into, then?” Casually, he undoes his tie, sliding it off his neck. She swallows.

“Um.” Focus, girl. “Office buildings, monuments. I dunno. I just want to… I just want to build something good, you know? Something permanent. Proof that I was here, you know?”

“Something permanent, huh?” He speaks softly, a respectable distance away, but she’s drawn in anyway, by his open shirt collar and his easy demeanor and his stupid sea green eyes that remind her so much of— “That sounds really nice.”

Then he steps up to her. His hand, warm and big, draws up her arm, fingers tracing lightly over her skin, and she shivers. He cups her neck, fingering the hair at the base of her scalp, and leans in, his lips parted. He smells like salt, like the perfume of the wine they shared, like the sea on a sunny morning.

“Wait,” she murmurs against his lips.

Immediately, he pulls back. “Is something wrong?” he asks, concerned.

“No, no, it’s fine, I just—” She swallows, her heart racing. “I just need a minute.”

“Of course.” He takes a step back, and she has to stop herself from pulling him in further. “Do you need anything? Water, champagne? They always stock the minifridge.”

She shakes her head. “No, I’m fine. It’s just, I’ve never… done this before.”

“What, hire an escort?” He grins, rakish. “I can tell.”

“Not that—I mean, yes, that too, but I mean—I’ve never—” She huffs, annoyed she has to have this conversation twice in one week. “I’ve never had sex before, okay?”

That shocks him a little. His eyes widen, taken aback. “Oh.”

“Yeah.” Chuckling weakly, she rubs a hand on her arm, looking out the window. “So… yeah.”

“So, don’t take this the wrong way,” says Paris, “but, there are easier ways to get laid than by using a professional. I mean, I’m grateful for the business and all, but, well, look at you.” He looks her up and down, somehow simultaneously respectful and entirely indecent. “I don’t think you’d have a problem getting a date.”

“It’s… complicated.” Understatement of the fucking millennium. “My friend thought this would be the easiest way to… go about it.”

Paris laughs. “You don’t agree.”

“I don’t… not agree,” she says. “I’m just. A little nervous.”

He nods. “I’d bet.” Chewing his lip, he looks towards the bedroom suite, and Annabeth tries not to think about how those teeth would feel on her mouth instead. “How about this; why don’t you take a shower? It might help calm you down a bit.”

“Won’t you be lonely?” she quips, a moment of reckless bravery.

“I have a few calls I can make,” says Paris, eyes dancing. “Go on. Make yourself comfortable.”

***

She has to hand it to the five-star hotels; the shower is always outstanding. Amazing pressure, amazing heat, it definitely rivals the plumbing in some of the castles she’s stayed at. And the robes, always so soft and warm, though a little on the small side. This one just barely covers her ass, which she figures isn’t a huge problem for tonight, but still.

When she steps out of the bathroom, she can hear Paris talking. “Uh huh,” he says. “Yeah. No, it’s going great. Professor Kleio said she’d write me a recommendation. She was really impressed with the last build. Yeah.” She runs her fingers through her wet hair, pushing it back from her face. “No, the conference is next month. Probably. Pretty sure I can get Tyson to help, but I don’t think it’ll get that far before the end of the week. Uh huh.”

Paris had taken off his suit jacket at some point; she can see it hung up in the closet on a hanger, perfectly pressed. He’s still in his shirt, but he’s unbuttoned it, the sleeves rolled up around his forearms. It is effortlessly attractive, even from the back. She coughs lightly, unwilling to startle him, and he turns, giving her another up-and-down, this one decidedly less respectful than the first.

“Hey, I gotta go, I’ll call you tomorrow. Say hi to Estelle for me. Love you.” And he hangs up.

“Your girlfriend?” she asks.

He smiles, all soft. “My mom.”

Something in her melts at his tone. “Aw,” she coos. “Is she back in America?”

“Yeah. I don’t get to see her all that often, so I try to call her every day.”

It is so unfathomably sweet, sweet and… humanizing, as weird as that sounds. He’s not just an unbelievably handsome man with a jaw cut like a diamond and a five-star rating, according to Piper, he’s a person with a whole other life that she knows nothing about. It’s liberating, in its own way. She can make mistakes with him, and he’ll understand. He won’t judge her, not against his other clients, or even his other partners.

Swallowing, she slides the robe off her shoulders, slowly, achingly. Maybe he turned the heat up while she wasn’t looking, because all of a sudden, she feels hot all over, from her cheeks to her chest and down, and down. Maybe it’s all coming from him, from the heat of his gaze on her, his pink tongue coming out to wet his lips. She wants it, wants them, wants him, on her and in her and all over her.

But he stays on his side of the room, waiting for her to take the plunge.

She steps up to him, close but not touching, breathing in the heady, strong scent of him, raking her eyes up his body for a change. Even through his shirt, she can tell he’s fit, the exposed skin of his arms tanned a deep brown, thick, coarse, dark hair running up to his wrists. On his right arm, there is a black trident long and straight, crossed by an old, white scar. “What happened here?” she asks, lifting her hand to trace it, leaving visible goosebumps in its wake.

“Sailing accident,” he whispers. “Long time ago.”

There’d been a kid at her summer camp for troubled teens who’d gotten thrown off his boat and hurt like that, once. She remembered so vividly, because she’d been on infirmary duty that day, and all she could think about while wrapping up his arm was how fucking stupid he'd been, how he could have gotten himself really hurt, how badly she’d wanted to kiss him.

She'd moved across the country before she'd gotten the chance, though, and no one else had ever made her feel like that since. Until now. “Got any other ink to show me?”

But instead of answering, he leans down, and he kisses her.

She’s been kissed before. She’s never had sex, but she’s done some kissing in her life. It’s usually pretty awkward, in her experience, too much of one thing and never enough of another.

Nope, not Paris. Of course, he’s also a phenomenal kisser. Why she expected anything else, she’s not sure.

His hands come up to circle her neck again, his thumbs running against her cheekbones. He kisses her, pouring passion and intent into her, his mouth soft and sweet against hers. And then he slips her some tongue, and it’s a whole different ballgame.

“Take off your shirt,” she whispers into his mouth.

He does, effortlessly, without detaching himself from her. It’s a smooth, easy motion, and she is delighted to discover that he is as firm as she suspected he was, the muscles jumping under her touch.

Almost without her realizing it, he backs her up towards the bed, her knees hitting the edge of the mattress. He lays her out against the sheets, his bare chest hot against hers. “Before we go any further,” he says, and she can feel the vibrations of his voice all throughout her body, “tell me—have you ever made yourself come?”

She flushes at his words, the dirty talk which should sound stupid but instead comes out all sultry and sexy. “Yes,” she says, breath hitching as he nips at her neck. “Yes, I have.”

“Good.” He smiles into the skin of her collarbone, traveling down, and down, and down. “I want you to show me how.”

“Isn’t that,” she pants, “your job?”

“Hmm, you’re right.” He pushes her thighs apart with his shoulders, bright eyes staring up at her as he licks his lips. “Let me get to work, then.”

Breathing heavily, she curls her fingers into the ten thousand count sheets, eyes fixed on the ceiling pattern. She can’t look at the dark head between her legs, can only breathe in through her nose as he kisses up the skin of her thigh, higher and higher and higher until…

Jesus fucking lord almighty.

***

“I found the perfect guy for you.”

“Piper, come on.” Theses brunch dates of theirs were starting to get a little repetitive. “I let you set me up with a professional, but I draw the line at a blind date.”

“Have I steered you wrong yet, your highness?” Piper asks, knowing grin firmly on her face.

Annabeth blushes. So what if that night with Paris was the most incredible experience she’d ever had? Doesn’t mean she’s ready for a full-on relationship, yet. “No,” she says, rubbing her temples.

“Great!” Then she does something that Annabeth doesn’t expect—she starts packing up. “So he’ll be here in a few minutes.”

“What?”

“Yeah,” she smiles, so bright it borders on painful, her nose scrunching up. “I invited him to brunch. But he’s really, really nice, I promise.”

“Does he know about—”

“No, he doesn’t, but if you wanted to spill, he’s a fantastic secret keeper.”

“How do you even know—”

Piper glances over Annabeth’s shoulder, eyes lighting up, waving a hand. “Friend of a friend of Jason, he’s a grad student at Cambridge, he’s doing his dissertation on naval history, so you know the king will love him.”

“Piper!” Annabeth half-calls, half-hisses at her friend as she stands up “Piper, you can’t just—”

“Hey,” says a voice behind her. A very familiar voice. “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize anyone was joining us.” She turns around. Slowly. “Nice to meet you, I’m… Percy…” he trails off, sea green eyes widening behind a pair of thick, black glasses, beneath dark, curly hair. On his arm, a black trident stood out against his skin, straight and proud.

“Percy, meet Annabeth,” Piper says. “Annabeth, meet Percy. Okay, have fun you two!”

And she waltzes out of there, completely unaware of the absolute shitstorm she left in her wake.

[siramay-the-showgun-dragon]

Nothing changes

https://archiveofourown.org/works/28144008/chapters/77507987

Just to make things clear... (go on) Last night, I was attacked by someone wearing a mask... (yep) And whoever that was--now they're... I don't know why, but now they're laying dead in front of me... (I can neither confirm nor deny this query)

Makoto: what is that supposed to mean.

Siramay: I can neither confirm nor deny this query sorry you’re on your own.

So after seeing the corpse they began to investigate what could possibly have happened and then they tried to tell who it was and take of her mask and then

*KABOOOOOOM*

Siramay: NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO LOOK AT HOW THEY MASSACRED MY GIRL WHY MUST YOU BE SO CRULE UNIVERES

...there was a blinding light, and a deafening roar. The body...blew up. It blew up it blew up it blew up it blew up it blew up it blew up it blew up it blew up!

Needless to say the survivor gang tried to put out the fire, but the damage was done WAS HER DEATH NOT ENOUGH FOR YOU! YOU GO AND DAMAGE HER BEAUTY TO!? Well even so may she still be an angel at first they all thought it kyoko, but they did bring up the possibility of it being the mastermind.

Makoto: Is it the teenage girl Kyoko told me about? The Ultimate Destrawberry...?

Siramay: you still doing that?

Makoto: you can never be to sure, also its funny

Siramay: true

Then makoto told the others about mukuro ikusaba the ultimate des-…. I’m running out of food… destarfruit.

Byakuya: There's another student here, and it's a female? That *would* match the body's characteristic...

Aoi: And that phrase, the Ultimate Des-

Siramay: NOOOO!!

magic

Aoi: Desblackberry--it sounds super mastermind-y, doesn't it?

Makoto: what did you do this time siramay?

Siramay: now no one can say desboysenberry MAHAHAHAHHA.

IT WAS THE ONLY THING SHE HAD LEFT WHAT DID SHE DO TO DESERVE THIS!? …do I even need to answer that?

yasuhiro: Okay, so...the mastermind is this girl Mukuro? And she's a student here? And she's the Ultimate Desdragonfruit? But if she's been hiding here in the school like some teenage Bigfoot...how'd she wind up burnt to a crisp!?

Well needless to say they went to investigate the body, also toko is ok what makoto saw was a strange key on the ground, then bayakuya kicked makoto out to look for the door the key opens.

Siramay: it opens the data center.

And makoto immediately went to tell them, REALY NO CHECKING!? then when they went they forced makoto to open the door incase it blew up, rude and so he opened it.

Siramay: behold…. THE MASTERMIND LAYER!!

Dramatic pose Epic thunder sounds

Makoto: where that come from?

Siramay: where do you think.

So yeah they saw all the cameras and such the mastermind uses to watch everyone.

So they all think mukuro was the mastermind BASELESS SLANDER and that shes dead, eh I don’t care I got a David bowie stash to find and steal then they wanted to investigate the data lab to find out secrets since they think zetsu was murdered.

Byakuya: Naturally. The state of the corpse makes it plain as day. There is absolutely no doubt the mastermind was murdered.

Siramay: ah not clearly they laid down put their coat on top of them and stabbed themselves in the stomach.

Makoto: really?

Siramay: no!

Well anyway they began to investigate the room like how the monodoor was locked and oh look a tv antenna witch they had yasuhiro use to connect to the tv which showed them and on every channel to how confusing oh and look monokuma was here.

Siramay: HES ALLLIIVVVEEE

They also said he’s acting different, but I don’t get that they seem the same to me, must be the madness of isolation.

Makoto: Oh yeah, that's it. Puhuhu... The look on your faces right now is sublime!

Siramay: it is kinda funny.

Monokuma: That's what I wanted to see--the moment you went from hope to despair.. I can say it myself naegi!

Siramay: OH NO I FORGOT MY MAGIC DOSENT WORK ON THEM AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH

Then siramay jumped away in a portal in fear

monokuma: Well, it's almost time to cut off your past so full of hope and begin to DESPAIR at the future ahead of you! I want you to all have way more fun in this killing game!

Then monokuma said other things

 This life isn't all bad ya know! I mean, there's stuff you won't like about life no matter where you are!

Siramay pops his head out of a tiny portal.

Siramay: that’s fair

Toko: Are you s-serious? This place is the w-worst...!

Monokuma: If it's the worst, does that mean you're in...despair? Ahh-hahahahaha!

Siramay: man you’re running millage on that word guess it makes sense its all you have left.

I say holding the secret stash of David bowie music I could burn this all right now in their face… no I shouldn’t I could use this later anyway also as a music man the songs are indeed quite good so anyway monokuma talks about how the tvs a clue.

Monokuma: Everything has a meaning, you know... All those hints I gave you, all those tantalizing tidbits about the school's mysteries... Even me luring you here right now... Why would I do any of that without a reason?

Siramay: ah so you admit it!

Monokuma: It was all for my captive audience--to show them true despair like they'd never seen it before!

Siramay: riiiiiggghhtt all right keep your secrets and ignore me not like I care!

Monokuma: I became the director of a despair-based production! This is the ultimate reality show! The best in despair entertainment!

A single tear sheds from siramays eye from being ignored.

Course monokuma went on and on about there evil but then he stopped cause after all if there still alive that means there not the body and if there not the body that means there’s another murder a foot and if there’s another murder a foot that means A TRIAL SHALL SOON COMENCE BUM BUM BUUUUMM

And then...he was gone. Reality was incomprehensible, the truth hopelessly out of reach. All we were left with...was despair. (monokuma: GOT IT! New ringtone!) We stood there for I don't know how long, frozen in place. I couldn't think- AW I COULD HAVE SAID DESPUMPKN GOSH DARNIT! (monokuma: you lose!) (it’s not over till the despair lady sings!). It took everything I had just to keep myself standing upright.

Yasuhiro: I don't understand any of this... What's "deswatermelon entertainment"? (monokuma: don’t start this again!) (to bad!) And...how is he still alive!?

Also byakyua thinks kyoko is dead cause his blatant and disrespectful slander of saying mukuro is the mastermind SLANDER I SAY! Course makoto refuses to believe it WITCH IS FAIR AS ITS AS FALSE AS ZETSUS HAIR COLOR and so the investigation begun, and so makoto went back to the garden, he saw fragments a knife, also makoto got all worried about murdering them awe no baby boi you didn’t do that then they checked the chickens.

Siramay: THERES NOT FIVE ANYMORE

I count four chickens.

Siramay: HINA YOU ATE A CHIKEN AND DIDN’T SHARE

Makoto: really?

Siramay: no

Then he recalled how the body looked before the boom, then they talked about the body was found, and byakua was suspicious about makoto thinking he’s the killer witch is not true at all, though I will admit it’s a fair point BUT MAKOTO IS AN ANGEL HE’D NEVER KILL and then makoto looked closer at the body..neeeeeerrr

Siramay: sad dragon noises

Makoto: … yes?

Siramay: look at those fake nails shed never where them she was forced to she couldn’t even have the honor of dyeing as herself what sick twisted monster would do that to a girl sob.

Makoto also noticed the wolf tattoo.

Siramay: yee I say she liked wolfys makoto but uh it had a more bisunessy reason but can’t say but shes a good girl she deserved head pats and love I hope she gets all the love in heaven, because she never got it here sob.

The upper half of the body got set on fire in the explosion, so it's totally blackened... Also, the top half of the body is wet.

SOB

Siramay just kinda stayed looking at the body in sadness.

Makoto also saw a tarp in the toolshed, then makoto wanted to investigate kyokos room, but first he realized the thing about the bomb but then they were allowed to go to kyokos room saw a woodblock key, then after talking to byakuya he recalled kyokos last will and testament sadly instead of giving makoto money or at least a boot to the head all it said was “under the sheets” in which makoto found a note about mukuro.

Siramay: aaayyy that’s my giiirrllll.

“Name: Mukuro Ikusaba

Sex: Female

The Ultimate Soldier (so coooool)

Although small for her age, she was a military specialist trained in every weapon type imaginable. (she could crush your skull with her thighs!)  She showed an interest in the military from childhood and soon found herself completely absorbed in it. In elementary school, she won a survival game tournament and began writing for military magazines. (soooo cooool oh I already said that…well its true)

Just before entering middle school, while she and her family were on vacation in Europe (Ireland specifically shes half Irish don’t ya know makoto)...she disappeared. The story of a young Japanese girl being kidnapped quickly took over Japanese media outlets (her grandfather died! But he had it coming). An intense international investigation turned up no information, and she was never found. (she must be smart to stay hidden or at least I think so clever girl but never appreciated)

However, she reappeared in Japan three years later (could have sworn it was 4), alone and completely unannounced. She revealed that she had joined a mercenary group known as Fenrir for those three years. She insisted that she hadn't been kidnapped, that she'd received battle training of her own volition. However, she never revealed why she decided to return home when she did.” (…its complicated you know hard to explain with parents dying and your father figure telling you not to give up on family and siblings who may or may not have turned super evil while you where gone….. I don’t wanna talk about it)

Then byakua said how he recognized Fenrir

Siramay: oh yeah I know about it to!

Makoto: can you say anything about it.

Siramay: awe yeah its multiverseal! I’ve heard in many words I traveled to of the infamies Lycan family and there gang of fighters who follow the wolf loving war and all that heard about them all the way back in the 1800s with the great vvulf from the DD dimension though maybe they are older then even that and of course I can’t forget that cunning Worriz and the twisted gang in the 1980-2000s nearly killed a good friend of mine that guy did, though in your time in this world it was run by a Mr. Wayne Lycan he was cool a bit on the scrawny side though that’s why he worked twice as hard to prove the worth to his father that he could leady the business named ATM to Fenrir how fancy oh he was like the father mukuro never had and always wanted though I do have to question how sensible the man was to just allow a 10-11 year old into a mercenary gang but he did care about her he cared about her greatly he was so proud to see her fight and be victorious in battlefield… he must be just as sad as I about her death and what that cruel excuse for a sister did to her he said it himself he said “if anything happens to mukuro I’ll kill everyone on the battlefield then myself” so if he wasn’t already dead I assure he’s dead now

Makoto: how do you know all this

Siramay: I know everything makoto and also nothing at all.

And then monokuma showed up and was all mad about rule breaking and making a fuss about it.

Monokuma: Of course I am! A proper school life is built on the dedication to organization and order! Which is why even I, as the school headmaster, have to follow the regulations myself!

Byakuya: Oh? So you're saying you have to follow your own rules, as well?

Monokuma: Absolutely! I can't have you complaining about how unfair it all is, now can I?

Siramay: riiiigggghhhttt

Makoto: ?

Siramay: I’m just saying makoto there are two types of villains, villains who will literally kill themselves when their world order is broken and villains who will fuss about it but when the time comes will break the rules as easily as they made them, now just look at monokuma and everything he’s done and ask yourself which type he looks like

Then monokuma admitted how there where 16 students and he is one of them then he also revealed kyokos secret about her KFH (kyoko fried hands)

Monokuma: You know how she wears those stupid gloves day in, day out, all the time? Well, don't tell anyone I told you, but... She wears them to cover a bunch of hideous scars that she doesn't want anyone to see!

Makoto: ...What?

Monokuma: Puhuhu. Okay, NOW that's all you get! Ahh-hahahahaha!

And then they left

Siramay: how rude talking about kyokos hand scars I bet you wouldn’t like it if I talked about your back scars.

Makoto: they have scars?

Siramay: yeah but it aint like kyokos that come from burning hers come from FLAELLATION!!

Siramay pulls out said tool above you know classic family abuse I would talk about it, but I feel its cliche, so I don’t wanna be rude.

Makoto: they used that!?

Siramay: oh no her parents used more a basic stuff like riding crops and their fist though he did have big fist like bigger than a mug I think, there was this one tool, but I can’t recall the name OH WAIT!

THE SJAMBOK! these things hurt like death…. but as I was saying oh yeah that old whip was more used by good old grandpa damian, he was the old Irish one I was talking about he was a flagellant and a sado-masochist, so he was delusional but still she was just 10.

Makoto: TEN- makoto covered his mouth as not to react deeply.

Siramay: at least he never got to use the metal ones like this thing!

makoto almost fainted at the thought of what siramay brought up but siramay with a portal grew another hand to catch makoto.

eh its ok makoto whats a little mental damage between friends eh? After all scars may be forever (unless you get scar removal surgery witch they possibly did) but psychological damage will last even longer

anyway with monokumas info makoto realized the corpse can’t be kyoko, cause clearly me constantly calling the course mukuro was totally not valid proof…. Then again mukuro does mean  corpse in Japanese maybe makoto just though I was being weird again, but no he would know her name yes! eh I digress anyway byakuya talked about mukuro and kyoko honestly it was pretty confusing.

Byakuya: We thought Mukuro, the Ultimate Despair, was the mastermind's true identity.

Makoto: don’t say that word!

Byakuya: why?

Monokuma getting aroused in the background.

Byakuya: But if that's true, Monokuma's behavior makes no sense. Why would the mastermind go out of their way to reveal themselves to us?

Makoto: That's a good point...

Well anyway they went to investigate the dojo to look at the locker and there where arrows and tape then they went to the archive to learn more about mukuro.

Yaaahhh more mukuro lore

Byakuya: "Fenrir is an elite fighting unit base out of the Middle East (it’s always the middle east why can’t they spice it up by fighting somewhere like Canada) (makoto: Canada really?) (I couldn’t think of anything but man that’s far from Europe don’t yah think. I think they were on draft world tour you know how it is). Unlike military contractors, they are a fierce group of soldiers who engage in direct combat. (fierce wolfy woos) They claim that a single member is equivalent to an entire company of regular soldiers. Just like Fenrir, the Wolf of Ragnarok, their mere presence is enough to strike fear into any enemy. They have been involved in countless military battles and operations, most of which are highly classified. (ou like the great battle of the heart of darkness a literal Eldredge abomination… wait that wasn’t them they were just commissioned by the cultist who found it oh, but they were defeated by the team who did defeat it I can still remember how they sliced vvulf in half)

"However, some time ago, they completely ceased all activity. At present, their continued existence cannot be confirmed. There are unconfirmed reports that the key members of the group were all neutralized. Rumors indicate they were killed to keep them from revealing the many state secrets they'd acquired. Some, however, believe there was mounting internal tension within the group, and they simply imploded." (WAYNE NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO) ……(PLEASE DON’T BE WHAT I THINK HAPPENED) (makoto: what do you-) (IM NOT SAYING!! As long as I don’t think it happened it didn’t happen, no no… oh no I can see nonononononoon! MAKOTO DISTRACT ME)

Makoto: ...

Siramay: at least Wayne and mukuro can reunite in heaven…

Byakuya: ...What is it?

Makoto: This all just sounds like some kind of...alternate reality.

Byakuya: Well, it isn't. This is *our* reality, the *only* reality (that’s not exactly true!). These people are part of our world. Their battlefields aren't much different from our lives here. An unpredictable, unimaginable world...

Also makoto realized the Fenrir people getting tattoos and that mukuro had a wolf tattoo and then it was time for the class trial, so as makoto went to the red doors siramay…started to beat box.

Siramay: bum bum bum bum bum bum bum a body’s been discovered a person has been murdered one of your fellow students is dead there’s a giant pool of blood and your names dragged through the mud gotta prove who is messed up in the head.

Well despair starts coming and it don’t stop coming don’t break the rules or you better get running dosent make sense why you’re trapped in here not what you expected from a new school year.

you’ve called it quits you’ve had enough so whats wrong with picking the knife up you’ll never leave if you don’t kill you’re gonna die if you just chill.

hey now! you’re the blackened! time for trial how sad!

Hey now! look what happened you got found out to bad.

And not its punishment tiiimmmee killers have to pay for their criimme.

Eh? Eh?

Makoto: …that was actually pretty good.

Siramay: YEAAHHH

Well when makoto got in the elevator everyone assumed him and byakuya where being gay (NO THEY WENRT) yes they were makoto, and so they where waiting for the elevator to go down… but go down it did not, it was a little over ten minutes, then monokuma showed up to explain the predicament, and then, like a hero in the climax of the movie, like a great explosion in a mine KYOKO WAS HERE ALLLIIIIVVVVEEEE even if yasuhiro thought she was a ghost so the others went to the elevator but makoto had a heart to heart with kyoko first, where makoto ask what kyoko was doing and she says how she was on the second floor dorms revealing that the key she had was a master key that could open any door in the school but they didn’t have much time to go further as they had to go to the trial, then kyoko sounded suspect but that ok cause it was trial time

Being the last one left, I stepped into the elevator. And the doors slid shut... This time, the clunking was loud enough to hurt my ears, and the dread began to consume me once again... I can't imagine ever getting used to the mental pressure that comes with preparing for an execution. In that dusky darkness, nobody said a word. We just stood there, silent, and still. After an immeasurable period of time, the doors opened without warning... A dazzling light penetrated every depth of my eyes. But it wasn't the illuminating light of hope... It was the blinding light of descarrot.

Makoto: OH SNAP NO IT WAS THE BLINDING LIGHT OF A FASHION DISASTER OH KODAKA! WHO DID YOUR HOME DECORATING? MY WORD IVE SEEN ANIMACROSSING HOUSES BY PEOPLE WITH BLINDFOLDS ON THAT LOOK BETTER THEN THIS

Siramay: I’ve heard of eyestrain but my word.

Monokuma: …rude Ahh, I've been waiting for this! I feel like it's been forever since we got together like this... The time for pointless jokes and jabs has passed. Let's get on with the show!

And so, the curtain opened for the fifth time... A deadly judgment... A deadly deception... A deadly betrayal. A deadly riddle, a deadly defense, and deadly faith... A deadly...class trial...!

SOOO COOOLL so the trial started.

Started with hagakure saying kyoko was dead and the one on podium was a GHOOOOOSSSTTT hahahahahahah thankfully makoto proved that argument wrong as they now needed to identify the real body victim …not thinking about it I guess that’s why he needed other not me proof to prover her identity he can’t just say “its mukuro cause the magic dragon only I can see told me so” hahahah they think he’s crazy so they talk about her tattoo.

Toko: Her master m-must have made her get it...to be like, "You're my *censored* ."

Crying cause shes not entirely wrong in a sense

But yeah so they all realized the corpse is mukuro.

Monokuma: Ah-ha-ha-ha! You sound surprised! But you're absolutely right! Yes, indeed! The trial this time is to solve the murder of Mukuro Ikusaba!

Siramay: SHE WAS TOO GOOD FOR THIS WOOOORRLLLDDD

Anyway

Aoi: But I mean...being the Ultimate Des-

Makoto: HINA NO!

Aoi: uh des…lettuce seems like a pretty mastermind-y title to me... sorry we’ve been out of fruits we have to go with vegetables now.

Monokuma: I don’t like this idea that’s spreading…

Byakuya: : Maybe we shouldn't have been thinking of her as the Ultimate Despair (makoto: EGGPLANT) in the first place.

Monokuma: I heard it~

Needless to say as they were talking about masterminds and all that and how mukuro wasn’t the big bad monokuma wanted to avoid the subject and move on to the fact the only 2 subjects that could have killed mukuro are kyoko and makoto, despite neither doing it but I digress so makoto had to clear his name so he explained cause the body’s dry (besides the water outage) that it had to have happened during 7:30-9 course that leaves kyoko without an alibi but kyoko wants to live to solve the school mystery says it’s a trap by monokuma (witch it is) but byakuya does state she had a motive

Byakuya: She thought Mukuro was the Ultimate Des-(makoto: GOARD). In other words, the mastermind behind everything... So she killed her to try and put a stop to all this. Isn't that right, Kyoko? But you made one catastrophic mistake--Mukuro wasn't the mastermind at all.

 So in this scenario kyoko opts to bunk makotos alibi unintentionally pining blame on him

And thus began the game OF BLACNKED TENIS where makoto and kyoko kept throwing the title of blackened back to one another stating why they went the killer framing the other in the process crazy right?

Like saying the blood on the body was actually chicken blood to make it look wet when it could have been dry

Makoto: wait why did they have to stab a chicken for the blood couldn’t they just stab the body?

Siramay: blood coagulates sometime after the body dies though.

Makoto: well how long?

Siramay: uhhh I donno, OH like at least 10 hours or so

Makoto: that would have been plenty of time!

Siramay: … cringing cause he knows mukuro was dead for over a month so her blood would be long past coagulated but unable to tell makoto cause if he revealed that he would be spoiled for knowing something is suspicious about the trial right.

So they continued with this argument and then kyoko brings up the ultimatum that they couldn’t have had the dojo key cause the dojo key was in their room and they couldn’t get in their room cause byakua took their key, but makoto knew otherwise since she had the master key and so makoto was left with a huge choice call kyoko out or keep it to himself.

Makoto: siramay what should I do

Siramay: well I can’t say due to the universe but what I can tell you is to follow your heart for you are an angel and your word will always be divine even if not at first glance.

Makoto: what does that mean.

Siramay: you’ll soon find out.

...I've made my decision. I have to believe in Kyoko. There's no way she would kill someone! There has to be some secret here, something that has to do with the mastermind's trap that Kyoko mentioned.

But sadly by holding that info the suspicion crashed down finally on him and stayed there despite makotos please that something is wrong but monokuma wouldn’t have it and ended the trial.

Monokuma: Now, who will be chosen as the blackened? Will you make the right choice, or the dreadfully wrong one?

Makoto: Hey, hold on! siramay! Is this supposed to happen?

Siramay: …

Siramay just sat in silence looking at makoto.

Monokuma: What's it gonna be? What's it gonna beeee!?

And so makoto was deemed guilty.

Makoto: What...? You think *I'm* the killer...?

Yasuhiro: Sorry, man...

Aoi: Yeah, s-sorry...

Toko: It's all your f-fault...!

Byakuya: ...

Makoto: Everyone...you're wrong...! You've got it all wrong! I didn't do it!

Monokuma: Good job, everyone!

Makoto: G-Good job...?

Monokuma: Yeah. They got it right!

Makoto: N-No, I know that's not true... None of this makes any sense... This whole trial doesn't make any sense!

Monokuma: It makes perfect seeeeEEEENNNSSSSSEEE!!! It's the same as always! It's just like all the other class trials! And I'm gonna end it the same way! It's time for your heart pounding, positively thrilling punishment!

Makoto: W-Wait! Why do I--!? siramay!

But siramay just looked at him and started to sing.

[SIRAMAY] Poor, poor Makoto, what'cha gonna do? Things look bad for you, hey, what'cha gonna do? Poor, poor Makoto, what'cha gonna do? Things look bad for you, hey, what'cha gonna do?

Makoto: ... Kyoko--!

Kyoko: I don't expect you to forgive me. I know this is all my fault...

Makoto: Kyoko...?

Monokuma: Let's give it everything we've got! It's...PUNISHMENT TIIIME!

And so he was dragged off to his execution and I could hear him beg.

SIRAMAY! SIRAMAY PLEASE HELP ME SIRAMY? SIRAMAY!!

…

[SIRAMAY] Why the struggle, why the strain? Why make trouble, why make scenes? Why go against the grain, why swim upstream? It ain't, it ain't, it ain't no use You're bound, you're bound, you're bound to lose What's done, what's done, what's done is done That's the way the river runs

So why get wet? Why break a sweat? Why waste your precious breath? Why beat your handsome brow?

Nothing changes.

Nothing changes, nothing changes Anyhow…

And at the final moment when it seemed all hope was lost for makoto alter ego showed up and opened the trash shoot saving makoto just as expected thank goodness its still sad to see though did have to scream it truly scared me to death I’m glad he’s safe though.

[SIRAMAY] Oh now survivors, how low can you stoop? You make a sordid group, hey, how low can you stoop? Poor, poor makoto, sent off to his grave Situation's stay, hey, sent off to his grave.

And so siramay jumped down after him.

[theindiegamereview]

Meet the creative team: “Spellstone”

Are you a collectible card game (CCG) fan? If so, read on, because this week we spoke to the makers of Spellstone, a free-to-play (F2P) casual story-based fantasy card game that features vibrant, colourful, hand-drawn art on hundreds of beautiful cards that you can acquire and use in battle, both against the computer and other players!

TIGR: PABLO and DUSTIN are artists who have worked on Spellstone's art, helping create some of the iconic characters Spellstone fans know and love. We asked them how they came to work on the game, as well as what intrigued them about this project.

DUSTIN: I was working as a contract artist when I was asked to create some sample cards for a potential CCG, which is something I'd always wanted to do. The samples I submitted eventually led to me getting a contract to create the initial art for Spellstone. After about four months, I was offered a full-time position. I had such a great experience working with the team that I jumped at the opportunity!

PABLO: Prior to starting work on Spellstone, I remember doing an art piece to test my skills. I greatly enjoyed that because I particularly liked this game's art style - which is actually similar to my own! There were still slight differences though, so I've had to adapt a little. Blending my own personal style into an existing one was challenging. But something that intrigued me about Spellstone was the variety of factions in the game. Each and every one opens up a big array of possibilities when it comes to creating a character. I felt my options were unlimited and I loved it!

TIGR: Spellstone features many different cards and characters. We wanted to know who conceptualises all this, and how much creative licence artists get when crafting a character. FERNANDO, currently the main artist for the game, gave us more insight.

FERNANDO:  That Spellstone has such an immense variety of characters means it's a complete and delightful dish for artists. It's hugely gratifying to find such visual diversity with which to play with. You're completely free to create, as long as you respect the game's universe and visual language.

As for the process, the concept of what a card must look like and how it must be functional in terms of gameplay comes from the guys in the game design department. Very creative people... sorcerers maybe? I don't know. Haha!

From a brief but concise description they give me, I can get a sense of what kind of character and action they want to see in a card. Once I have all the information I need to start sketching, my favourite hour finally begins: creative hour!

If the card description involves an existing type of character, like a goblin, part of the fun has to do with the way you depict that character, situation, action and specific emotion. There's also some freedom to create from scratch if needed - that's exciting and challenging! Sometimes the ideas come from a mix of characters, and that's when the laboratory inside my mind starts working: I press a button and something cool, spooky or funny comes out - whatever the game requires. Other times, new concepts require that I look for approximate references of what's needed, so that serves as the starting point. No matter what, it's always a very enjoyable process. Sometimes we have to make corrections, that's true. But as with everything in life, this is necessary for things to work properly. You may have to redraw stuff, but finally the card is done - it works, it delivers and it entertains!

  TIGR: In Spellstone, cards can be upgraded from a single to a dual to a quad, and we really like that this sometimes tells a "mini story" of of sorts through the artwork. Some are funny (we just love Honeycomb Lobber!), some cute (Bomb Spirit is soooo adorable when he’s angry!), some uplifting (Aurora Shaver ranks among our favourites), and some, um, a bit disturbing, to be honest (Cleaverstorm Hunter, anyone?!)! And some are just sad - we can't help but feel sorry for the poor li'l forest furries that presumably got devoured by Alphamech Stalker! We asked the team how they came up with ideas for all these tiny narratives, and MELINDA, one of the game designers, told us more.

MELINDA: When I was younger, there were a few creatures in video games that terrified me. One of those I remembered most was Medusa, an air jellyfish from Ecco: The Tides of Time. While traversing through a water pathway in the sky, Medusa would try to pick up Ecco the dolphin and fling him off the path. Tetraspout's concept came from that, and you can even see poor little dolphins getting swept up in its attack!

  TIGR: We asked the team if there were any cards they particularly liked creating, or found challenging to conceptualise. IVÁN, a colorist who worked briefly on the game, chipped in, as did TONY and RHADA, two of Spellstone's game designers.

DUSTIN: I loved working on the goblin cards! You could get silly with them. Frogs were a lot of fun too - the variety of colours made them interesting. For me, the water cards were challenging but I grew to love working on them.

PABLO: My favourite characters are Goblins! You can play around with them, making them look funny even when the card is telling a dark story, like a massacre. All of the cards were challenging to create!

IVÁN: I enjoyed working on Hedron The Critical Threat, Zyd The Unhinged, and some awesome Insect cards that have yet to be released (as of the time of this interview). I mostly liked them because of their cool concepts and Fernando's awesome sketches. Hedron in particular was a technical painting challenge, as it has textures, transparencies and glow!

TONY: As something of an artist myself (/sarcasm), the card I am most proud of has to be Dinged Waptor. Or really any of the cards I did for the April Fool's event, which is about the only time the art team lets me anywhere near card art. :) For April Fool's, I decided it would be funny to try my hand at drawing some cards I felt players would enjoy. So the first year I drew some original characters that consisted of a few stick figures, a chicken, and a bomb. The response was good, so the following year I continued the tradition, eventually going through and tracing some famous cards like Winged Raptor. My one rule while making these cards was that I could not erase what I did!

RHADA: We used to sell boxes that contained two new premium cards instead of one. We thought of making both cards in the box thematically linked. At the same time, while brainstorming concepts for dragons, I thought we could try to make cards that formed a bigger picture on the battlefield when placed consecutively, side by side. The initial idea was a serpent whose artwork overflowed into a second card, and after some iteration, we stumbled upon the idea of a dragon dance. The result was very cool!

TIGR: With the Spellstone story campaign recently concluded, we asked what was next in store for Spellstone fans. Would there be anymore new characters and amazing art to look forward to?

TONY: Absolutely! While the main story has come to a close, we still look forward to adding new characters, cards, and art to the game that lets our artists have fun and shows off the world of Spellstone.

TIGR: And finally, the most important question of all: would real-life Spellstone merchandise ever be made available for fans of the game? We really want a plushie of the adorable Bomb Spirit (complete with detachable bombs, perhaps?), as well as his angry counterpart, Firebomb Spirit! Also for Quetee Que and Adorabilis, please! And would there ever be any actual physical Spellstone cards produced for collectors?

TONY: I would personally love to see real-life merchandise, but we currently do not have the means to take on such an endeavour. Maybe one day we can strike a partnership with a team that can make this happen!

We thank the Spellstone team for their time and all the wonderful art assets that accompany this interview! Check out the game here on Kongregate, on Steam, or on mobile - three different ways you can enjoy this fun, cheeky and adorable CCG!

P.S. We just had to include our favourite card: Darkwater Adonis - don’t be fooled by his charms!

[mosylufanfic]

You’ve Got Mail

This is for the second day of Killervibe week, the Meet Cute theme! Based on something that happened to a Facebook connection of mine, although as far as I know it didn’t turn out this cute.

You’ve Got Mail

The first note was stuck to Caitlin’s door with a piece of scotch tape. She frowned and unfolded it, wondering if the new neighbor already had a problem with her erratic hours. 

Hi! (read the computer-printed note)

I just moved into 202 and wanted to introduce myself to all my neighbors. I'm Cisco Ramon and I'm starting my Masters' in electrical engineering at the university. Normally I'd knock and say hi but this whole quarantine thing kinda keeps me from doing that. :( 

I speak English and Spanish and a little bit of Klingon. I cook sometimes but mostly get too much takeout so any good restaurant recommendations are welcome! I like tinkering and video games and SF/F books and movies and shows, like you couldn't tell from the Klingon. I have a cat named Buttercup who is a giant butt and I love him. If you see him outside, I’d really appreciate it if you called or texted because he's not an outdoor kitty. 

He'd added a picture of the cat, staring menacingly at the camera as if promising that anyone who tried to pet him would lose a finger. Caitlin smiled in spite of herself. 

Hope you have a great day! Cisco Ramon, Apt 202

He'd also added his phone number.

Caitlin read it through a couple of times before looking across the courtyard and up a floor at 202. It being 11:30 at night, the door was shut tight. There was a muted bluish flicker in one of the windows, like he was watching TV. It would be rude to knock on his door at this time of night. 

Also, they were all practicing social distancing right now.

Caitlin was a champ at social distancing. She could social-distance on Olympic levels.

She went into her apartment, shutting the door behind her.

***

On her way to the hospital the next morning, she left a plastic container full of cookies on the mat of 202. There was a note carefully taped to the top. 

Thank you for your nice note. Here are some cookies to welcome you to the building. They're chocolate chip. If you can't eat them, it's okay to throw them away. I've been baking a lot in quarantine.

She was halfway to the hospital when she realized she hadn't put her name or apartment number on the note. So for all Cisco Ramon knew, some anonymous benefactor had dropped cookies on his doorstep.

She sighed. She really was bad at this, just like Jay had said.

***

There was another note on her door when she got back home, this one hand-written in a sprawling, jagged scrawl.

Hello Cookie Queen!

I hope I'm not creeping you out or anything. I saw you through the window, leaving the cookies this morning, but I didn't want to freak you out by opening up the door right away.

They were delicious. I will happily eat any baked goods that you want to get rid of. That's not a beg, by the way. I can make my own cookies, once I find a good grocery store. (Any recommendations?) Just if you're the kind of person who likes to make entire batches and then has to eat them for the next three weeks, I can help with that. I don't have any allergies or anything.

Anyway I think I've weirded you out enough for one note. 

Cisco

***

Hi Cisco

My name is Caitlin Snow and you already know my apartment number. The grocery store I like is the Safeway at the corner of Livingston and Bellmore because they are very firm about masks and disinfecting right now, much better than the Kroger. Also closer. There's a Taco Galaxy across the street from them that delivers until midnight and I like their chicken taco salad.

She stared at the note for a few minutes, then wondered if he would think she was saying a Mexican place because he was clearly Latino. She crossed out and substituted The Golden Wok on Bellmore delivers, and they do a good sweet and sour chicken.

I am a first-year resident so my hours are kind of strange but please let me know if I can ever help out with anything. 

Caitlin, Apt 106

She chewed her lip for a moment, then added to the last paragraph before the sign-off, I wasn't weirded out.

Then she wrote it out in pen on a clean sheet of paper and found another plastic container to fill with butterscotch oatmeal cookies.

***

Hi Caitlin!

Nice to have a name and stop calling you Cookie Queen. Unless you want me to continue calling you Cookie Queen, that's okay too. Thank you for the second batch! Just as delish.

I took your tip about the grocery store and stocked up. Also got green pepper beef at the Golden Wok. Nom, nom, nom! Any ruling on the Taco Galaxy across from Safeway?

I'm major impressed with the residency thing btw. Are you doing okay? Is your ICU totally packed? I have a sewing machine because I do cosplay but obvi no cons right now, so I've been making masks and stuff too. Do you need any?

Cisco

***

Cisco,

We're doing okay right now. I'm not treating many COVID cases personally because I'm in my first year, but everybody is doing more than they would have normally. If you have extra cloth masks, I know some shelters and the local food bank are distributing them.

I like the chicken taco salad at Taco Galaxy. 

She paused, studying the note. She wanted to continue this conversation. She liked him - his warmth and his humor. Maybe she should start texting him. She had his phone number, after all. Or would that be weird?

She wrote down, Where did you move from?

Caitlin

***

They traded notes back and forth, at least once a day but more often twice. Their correspondence ranged from the mundane - he'd moved from Coast City, she had come here from Gotham - to the personal - neither of them had very good relationships with their families - to the downright philosophical.

I dunno, he wrote one rainy day, I feel like the people who say this is God's punishment or whatever are totally getting God wrong. Like I don't believe in God anymore but if I still did, I don't think I'd believe in that kind of God. 

A virus is a virus, she wrote back. There's debate about whether a virus really counts as alive or not, but it's just doing what all life does. The pandemic is definitely down to human hubris and selfishness and shortsightedness. No need for divine punishment. And I don't believe in that kind of God either.

At work, she would mentally compose parts of her next letter during her rare free moments, and every time something funny or strange or horrible happened at the hospital, she found herself telling him about it. No names, of course, because of HIPAA, but writing them down helped her work them out.

The day he mentioned his most recent ex, she caught her breath, a strange flutter in her stomach.

She did a number on me, I'm telling you. It's weird because I do think she liked me, maybe as much as I liked her. It's just she was in some bad stuff with her brother, and she wasn't really interested in getting out. When I realized that she was using me to help him out, I was done. Probably way after I should've been, but that was the last straw. I'm not saying that breakup was why I picked CCU for grad school and moved here two months early but I'm not NOT saying that.

She lay on her couch reading the note over again. His tone was cheerful, as it usually was, but she could almost feel the regret and self-recrimination behind it. 

Also, did this mean he was single? He hadn't wrapped it up with any other mention of someone else he was dating now. 

I know what that's like, she wrote back. My most recent ex was - 

She lifted her pen and stared at the paper. How to describe Jay?

My breakup with my ex was pretty bad too. You just start to doubt everything that you ever thought or felt. Like, is this real or is this another time bomb he put in your head?

God RIGHT he wrote back. The good exes leave nice little presents for you in your head. You think of them because you see a movie they liked or something they used to wear and it just makes you smile. But the bad ones leave freaking land mines and time bombs.

***

More than once, she arrived home to find a bag of takeout or a tupperware full of some recipe he'd tried out. His tastes were a little more adventurous than hers, but she willingly ate whatever he left. Knowing somebody was thinking about her was as nourishing as the meal. 

And some of it was really good. 

She kept baking, leaving cookies and bread and other treats at his doorstep. Sometimes she experimented, too. 

One day as the first leaves were turning, she left a jar with a note taped to the top. I decided to try something. Let me know if Buttercup likes these.

She got a reply within hours. 

Buttercup would like to formally request to move into your apartment now, because I'm a terrible kitty papa and never thought of making him treats. Also I'm very cruel because I won't let him eat the entire jar no matter how much he yells. You are a genius.

She laughed and wrote back, Obviously you're an excellent kitty papa because you love Buttercup very much. It was a pretty simple recipe. I'll attach it for you so you can make your own. I'm glad he likes them.

She didn't see a reply on her door that night. This wasn't unprecedented, though it was unusual, and she found herself cycling through a few anxious loops of what-if - what if he was sick? what if he had nothing more to say to her? what if it had been just too weird for her to make treats for his cat? what if he was talking to someone else now?

But the next day when she went out to get her mail, she found a note tucked into her screen door. She grabbed it and opened it up. 

Hey I realize this is kind of a weird question since we've been passing notes all this time, but would you be okay with texting? Or FaceTiming or WhatsApp or something? I don't know if you kept my number but here it is again anyway. 

She read the short note through a couple of times, trying to identify the feeling bubbling up in her stomach. 

She did like writing the letters. There was something so calming and old-fashioned about sitting down with paper and pen and writing everything out that was on her mind. And getting a letter back felt like a present. 

But on the other hand, this felt like a step toward something . . . new. Something more. Closer. 

She looked up at 202. A curtain twitched, and she caught her breath. Cisco leaned against the glass, spotted her, and lifted his hand in a wave. 

She waved back. 

She'd seen him a couple of times, leaving something at her door or going to grab his mail. She liked his face and his smile, what she'd seen of them. 

He saw the note in her hand. That much was obvious. Even from here, he looked a little nervous. Or maybe that was her, projecting. 

She pulled her phone from her pocket and tapped in his number. He looked away from the window, reached out to grab something, and lifted his phone to his ear.

"Hi," she said shyly. "It's Caitlin."

His smile spread over his face, big enough to bathe her in warmth from one floor and a whole courtyard away. "Hi, Caitlin," he said. "Cisco here."

She smiled back. "So. How's your day going?"

It would be a long time before they actually got to meet in person, without a mask. But she was looking forward to it.

FINIS

[tiliamericana]

Muay Thai: 1.08

The apartment seemed larger and more echoey than usual. Nairi tossed her keys onto the counter and tried not to react to the clatter. Agatha shifted to lean against her kitchen counter, looking a little uncomfortable in the sparse room.

“Do you want a drink or something?” asked Nairi, to be polite. She didn’t exactly have anything, but it was too late to take it back now.

“Uh, just water? I think I’ve had enough to drink already.” She punctuated this with a smile. A small one, but it eased the lines of her face a little and made her seem less uncomfortable.

“I can do water,” said Nairi, returning the small smile. She pulled her fridge open and grabbed one of the water bottles from the middle shelf, trying not to dwell on how little else was in there. “Do you want a glass?”

“There’s no need to get fancy,” said Agatha drily, taking the bottle. “Thank you.”

Nairi nodded, tucking her hair behind her ear and shifting towards her couch, acutely aware that her conversational skills were lacking. She shrugged her jacket off and draped it over the couch, and when she looked back Agatha’s eyes were following her movements, tracing the lines of her arms and lingering where her shirt was rucked up a little at the waist.

She hummed softly and tugged her shirt off over her head as well. “Is there anything I need to know before we hit the sack?” she asked casually.

Agatha swallowed her mouthful of water and took a moment before she answered, cheeks faintly pink. “Well, I’m not terribly experienced, if that’s likely to bother you?”

Nairi shrugged. “It shouldn’t. I meant more like; do you have any ‘don’ts’?”

Oh,” said Agatha, and she considered it for another moment before shrugging back. “I mean, like I said, I haven’t really done a lot. I guess if I say stop then—?”

“I can do that,” said Nairi, unhooking her sports bra and feeling Agatha’s gaze intensify as she dropped it on the couch with her shirt. “Don’t touch my hair, okay? And no biting.”

Agatha took another drink of water and set the bottle on the kitchen counter, nodding. “I can do that,” she echoed.

“Great,” said Nairi. She turned and walked towards her bedroom, and Agatha’s footsteps followed behind her.

Agatha was very good at listening. And even better—she didn’t once ask about the tattoos.

*

Nairi had spent what most people would likely consider an excessive amount of money on her mattress. Her first goal had been ‘big’, and with the amount ‘big’ cost in terms of mattresses, apparently ‘very comfortable’ came included. She’d slept very well since she’d moved in, especially since she’d pulled out the window and replaced it with one that didn’t open.

The sensation of sleeping as long as she needed to and waking up well-rested was both novel and extremely enjoyable, so she liked to do so as often as possible. It was just nice to wake up at her leisure and enjoy the empty space. Nothing in her system, nothing weighing on her. She had an alarm on her blackberry in case she slept too late to open the dojo, but most days it wasn’t necessary, and besides, no one was showing up for the noon timeslots anyway.

Her pillow was soft and springy, still fresh, and her eyelids were comfortably heavy and dark. There was a comfortable stillness to her state; almost all the way asleep, and then a hand touched her shoulder.

She didn’t think so much as react.

She grabbed the hand at her shoulder with one arm, locking it to her chest as she rolled, pulling out her knife with the other. She used the momentum of the roll to knock them both to the floor, straddling her presumed assailant and pinning them with a forearm to their chest, knife raised by her temple, scowl on her face.

Agatha yelped, staring up at her with wide-eyed shock and confusion, and Nairi woke up the rest of the way. “Oh my god,” she said blankly.

Agatha said something that sounded very rude in a language Nairi didn’t understand.

Her heart was racing like a hummingbird’s under the skin of her throat where Nairi hand was twisted in her shirt collar, her breaths shaky and jagged in her chest. “Sorry,” Nairi forced out after a moment, releasing the fabric in her hand with fingers that felt too stiff and standing up quickly.

Agatha pushed herself onto her elbows where she was sprawled on the floor, blinking owlishly up at Nairi as she tucked the knife back into its holster. Her eyes looked smaller without the glasses, darker, and she raised a hand to her throat, rubbing at the skin where her neckline sat. “…Do you always sleep with a knife?” she asked eventually. From the look on her face, it wasn’t what she’d meant to ask.

“Yeah,” said Nairi, almost settling into a guard stance and catching herself at the last moment, folding her arms over her chest. “Sorry, again. I should have, uh, warned you.”

“Right,” said Agatha, slowly pushing herself up off the floor and rubbing at her wrist where Nairi had grabbed her. “Guess I’ll know for next time.”

She’d only muttered it, and from the faint reddening of her cheeks, Nairi guessed she hadn’t meant to say that either.

“Yeah,” she said, glancing down to tug uselessly on her shirt for moment in the hope that Agatha might think she hadn’t noticed. Linden had a way of making dumb jokes that pulled all the awkwardness out of a conversation, but Nairi wasn’t particularly good at it. She tried anyway. “You’ll just have to like, throw something at me instead.”

It worked, somehow, and Agatha snorted, brushing her hands off on her hips as she looked back at Nairi. “Something heavy, to give me an advantage, I think.” She had a wry little smile and her eyes seemed a little more amused, the hem of her borrowed shirt shifting along the top of her thighs as she brushed her hair out of her face. “Can you pass me my glasses?”

They got dressed quietly across from each other, Nairi turning her back reflexively. It was early for her—not even nine o’clock—but the adrenaline from her wake up had cleared most of the fog of sleep from her system. Her mind was a little sharper, a little less disquiet. Agatha was buttoning her shirt from the night before, tugging it a little to frown at a wrinkle, and Nairi watched her for a second. “Do you want a cup of tea or something?”

Agatha glanced up at her as she buttoned her jeans. “I’m more of a coffee person,” she said, almost apologetic about it. “I was actually thinking about breakfast, though?”

She really had to do something about that empty fridge of hers. “I don’t have coffee in the house yet,” said Nairi, echoing the apologetic tone and trying to sidestep the inevitable question about why she didn’t even have a box of cereal in her cupboard. “Do you want to eat out?”

“Yeah, sure,” said Agatha smiling at her. “What did you have in mind?”

The vegan café down the street flashed in front of Nairi’s mind with no other suggestions, and she shrugged. “No idea, actually.”

Between the two of them, they managed to end up in McDonald’s with matching egg breakfast muffins. Agatha inspected hers carefully for the absence of bacon before she bit into it, and Nairi belatedly glanced down at hers as she chewed. Hers also had no bacon; she was fine.

Agatha was watching her over her large coffee, her eyelids lowered like she was trying to be discreet about it. “You know,” she said eventually, shifting a little in the hard, plastic seat. “People keep telling me how good fast food is when you’re hungover. I don’t think I believe them.”

Nairi chewed her rubbery puck of egg thoughtfully and shrugged. “Most of the people I used to know with dealt with hangovers by drinking more and complaining about it.”

Agatha laughed. “Ah. Linden’s people.” It wasn’t really said in a kind tone.

“I honestly thought Linden was on team junk food,” said Nairi, thinking of the litany of text messages she woken up to the previous week extolling the virtues of chicken nuggets. It had gone on for eight or nine messages before Linden abruptly remembered that Nairi was vegetarian and had sent five more texts that were just series of punctuation around colons and parentheses that somehow managed to look repentant.

“No, no, she definitely is,” said Agatha quickly, nodding. “I just meant—I don’t know, the kind of people she’d hang around.”

Was Agatha not the kind of person Linden hung around? She seemed to have multiple grad student friends who weren’t Agatha, after all. “How did you guys end up becoming friends?” she asked.

“Oh, my boyfriend cheated on me with her,” said Agatha very casually, sipping at her coffee.

“Oh,” said Nairi, and she could almost physically see the red flags lining the conversational path in front of her. She should ask something else; ask about literally anything else. “So, you both like drinking coffee though?”

Wow.

Agatha seemed to find this very funny if the curl in her lip was any indication. “One of the other things we have in common, yes.”

“I just, Linden doesn’t drink tea either, and,” said Nairi, well aware she was fumbling the conversation and deciding to settle for just explaining herself. “And if I’m going to be having coffee-drinking company over more regularly, then I don’t want to be, uh, a bad host. So, um, what kind of coffee do you like?”

Agatha brightened considerably at the question, which Nairi figured meant she hadn’t completely bombed the conversation. “Definitely not this,” she joked, holding up her cup, and Nairi smiled back at her, relieved.

Her free hand crept across the table and slipped under Nairi’s, and Agatha finished her breakfast with a small smile on her face.

Nairi tried to ignore it. Physical contact, it was supposed to be good, especially the non-violent kind. Falling asleep with Agatha’s bare thighs pressed up against her had definitely felt good, in a way that wasn’t even sexy, particularly, but this—she couldn’t quite figure it out. She just… didn’t really want people touching her.

She rubbed her thumb over the back of Agatha’s hand and ate her deep fried hashbrown, ignoring the unease building in the pit of her stomach.

Her cell chirped in her pocket and she dug it out, Linden’s name on the caller ID. “Hi,” she said, glancing at Agatha across the table before looking around the room.

“Hey!” said Linden, sounding strangely cheerful. “Did you have a good night? Got Aggy off okay?”

“Yeah,” said Nairi, wondering if she was imagining the innuendo in the words. “We’re just grabbing breakfast.”

“Real-ly?” asked Linden, her tone hitting a strange pitch on the second syllable as though Nairi had just told her the most interesting thing in the world. “What, did she grab a crowbar and pry you out of bed?”

“No, we were just hungry,” said Nairi, ignoring the dig at her sleeping habits. “You’re not too hungover?”

“Well, I took a piss when I woke up and got drunk again off the vapours,” said Linden promptly, “But I’ll be fine once I sober up. Tell Aggy to charge her phone—talk to you later!”

She hung up before Nairi could response, and she pocketed her cell, looking back up at Agatha.

“Anything urgent?” asked Agatha, retrieving her hand to crush up their food wrappers and set them on the tray.

“Just Linden checking in,” said Nairi, leaning back to let Agatha stretch over and grab her trash. “She said something about you needing to charge your cell?”

Agatha rolled her eyes. “Oh yes, I forgot that the world ends when I don’t have my phone on to answer texts for a whole hour after I wake up. Do you want to go find some good coffee for your kitchen?”

“Yeah, sure,” said Nairi, standing up. “Do you have the time for it?”

Agatha smiled at her. “Yes.”

[ferdas]

Sentence Starters from Season One of ‘Justified’

** please feel free to change any pronouns or words to fit your character. adult themes, language, references to violence, guns, etc. are present.

"Does nothing count that I let you live?"

"He pulled first. I shot him."

"It was justified."

"These surely are end times."

"Fire in the hole!"

"When am I ever not nice?"

"I knew you liked me but you didn't wanna show it."

"The minute you walked in, I knew everything was gonna be alright."

"You don't walk into a person's house unless you're invited."

"Can you rack in a load before I put a hole through ya?"

"All those days, good and bad, they're all long gone now."

"You make me pull, I'll put you down."

"You want me to kill 'em or wing 'em?"

"Outlaw life's hard, ain't it?"

"You've got ice cold water running through your veins."

"I guess I just never thought of myself as an angry man."

"You do a good job of hiding it but you're the angriest man I've ever known."

"If you're gonna talk, I'll put you in the trunk and drive myself."

"I won't show up unannounced anymore."

"You know why the Pentecostal's don't have sex standing up? Could lead to dancing."

"You know what's funny, expert's say that torture doesn't work."

"Something's making my neck hair stand up."

"Well, far be it from me to second guess your neck hair."

"Something don't feel right. Which means someone ain't telling me something. Which means somebody's trying to put one over on me."

"What we got here's a classic ticking-bomb scenario."

"I love how these guys are so calm while you're coughing up blood."

"You ever consider I'm good at the job?"

"And you being a tall, good looking white man with a shitload of swagger, that has nothing to do with it?"

"You think it would go over if I came in to work one day wearing a cowboy hat?"

"Don't lie anymore, okay? You'd break my heart."

"Use it or throw it away."

"I guess I'm one of those guys who don't believe you when you tell 'em the stove's hot. Have to touch it. Might get me in trouble one day."

"I think we can call this a draw."

"You wrestle a big, bad man today?"

"How many men you shot? All the bad shit I pulled over the years, I never shot anyone. Not a one."

"We suffer well together."

"Well, be careful. 12-gauge has a hell of a kick."

"You know, what you do, your line of work, I think you've seen things that put to shame what you see as your hard life."

"But our stories are our own, huh? We all got our cross to bear."

"I don't know, I figured people are entitled to their hobbies and I'm entitled to think those people are creepy."

"Honestly, think I'd rather stick my dick in a blender."

"If you piss in somebody's sandbox they tend to respond rather quickly."

"You think I'm a leprechaun and got a pot of gold somewhere?"

"You think I give a shit about money?"

"I want to know. Was he funnier than me? Smarter? Does he have more money? A bigger house? A bigger dick?"

"Losing someone like you, I guess it eats a guy."

"So here I am, going back and forth between the light and the dark."

"I'm gonna have to get a new bed. Unless I keep this as a conversation piece."

"I know you speak English, I believe it's one of your proudest achievements."

"Given all the enemies you've made over all these many years, what if that shooter was gunning for you?"

"The police are just a janitorial service used to clean up your blood after you get murdered."

"I'm officially requisitioning this chicken."

"You know what I read once? People in unpleasant circumstances stay alive, not because they think things'll get better, they wanna know how the story ends."

"To bumps, bruises, a couple of cracked ribs and no one dead."

"Could you just keep it down a little bit? Cause I didn't order assholes with my whiskey."

"For a supposedly smart guy, you're making bad decisions."

"Just because you can't box and you’re stupid doesn't mean you gotta end up dead."

"Now you're gonna shoot me? On my vacation?"

"I've shot people I like more for less."

"Mister, that's a 10-gallon hat on a 20-gallon head."

"Your directions were clear. Your intent, not so much."

"I wasn't in a shootout, I was just near one."

"I thought God had given me another chance, like a pinball reset. Like none of the rest of it ever happened. Maybe I drink enough, I’ll start to believe it too."

"You're not taking me seriously and I don't find that amusing."

"Isn't that why you called? It wasn't to check up on me, it wasn't to ask me what I'm wearing in that sweet voice of yours?"

"I'm a big girl, I've been taking care of myself long before you rode into town on your white horse."

"Alright, listen to me. You are leaving with me if I have to arrest you and put you in handcuffs."

"That's my bottle and I'm not gonna let you drink it all just because your daddy didn't hug you enough when you were little."

"This place was always just a building to me, an empty shell."

"Tell me something, so I know how cheap I should feel. Were you screwing her all along?"

"I can be myself here. Whether I die tomorrow or ten years from now, it's gonna be here. This is home."

"Make yourself comfortable. Just not too comfortable."

"There's more than one way to kill a man. You can kill his physical body, or you can kill his spirit within."

"I'm gonna bet my life on you being the only friend I have left in this world."

[kalakilo]

the empty text box answer hall of fame

over 400 of y’all took my stupid uquiz. why.

an anon ask requested me to show my favourite answers to the little text box at the end so i spent like two and a half hours going through every single answer AGAIN since i hadn’t screenshotted any while looking through them the first time. you idiots are so funny and lovely people and here is a big post going through some iconic answers. i hope this can be entertaining but also it is mostly just for me lol

first of all, in one of the questions i mention that i often leave “i fucked ur mom” in the empty text boxes at the end of most uquizes. this then resulted into 43 of you leaving “i fucked ur mom” in the textbox in some way or another and one person asking: “i wonder how many people wrote “i fucked ur mom” after what you said earlier”. some favourite variations of this include:

as a wise uquiz maker once said “I fucked ur mom”

to quote u, i fucked ur mom <3

i fucked your mom but i thought it was you anyways the pussy was bomb

as I was fucking your mom, I realised that I truly am the sexiest bitch alive

i didn’t fuck your mom, but i did make sure she got home safely <3

and a bonus i also enjoyed: Can you ask your mom if she’s single

no, my mother is not single, and i really hope none of you actually fucked her. that being said i laughed at these every time thank you so much

these next ones i just want to talk about even though the original sender will most likely not even see them. or they just need some context. i just need peace of mind

the first question of the quiz was my favourite one to do because kpop songs are sometimes absolutely fucking bonkers and i wanted to showcase that it was hilarious!!!! i can confirm that not all kpop is like that. i specifically chose the funky ones because i think it does add to character and that is something that i can simultaneously enjoy and also laugh at. but kpop also has amazing lyrics!! it’s not all one thing and kpop is super diverse. i didn’t personally know some of the songs i put in there, i just knew their funky lyrics so i cannot speak for fm but also what the fuck was that song

as you should. carry on. i was very threatening with “do not leave it empty you bitch”

this one was just cute!! idk if you’re going to see this person who sent it but my native language is finnish. chuu is an icon.

one of my questions was if you were a wizard what would you say when you cast a spell and one of those answers was fuck you. this person took it to the next level and i loved it so much i couldn’t stop smiling at this one

listen i’m fuckin trying

this person just completed the assignment. left me a wonderful love letter

and last but not least, this person did everything i told them to do in the actual question. a+ incredible performance!!!

if i could i’d put in all the screenshots i took but since there is a photo limit i believe, i will just write them out exactly as they are. moving on, here are just some random ones that i really enjoyed:

i’m your father, luke

i am so sad, i dont have enough white beads to make a little 3d seed beed chicken sitting down ): i even arranged all the beads i stole from my mom by color, it took me 3 days, and now i cant even make a little chicken ): a little seed beed chicken )’:

you’ll meet the king of fungi in 34 days

today i managed tp find the nether fortress and collect 10 blazerods. im about to beat minecraft for the forst time in my life

Dude every question of this was a riot I love you

Bro I’m just here for the vibe

I think dogs should be able to vote

i killed a man lol

Pebis.

jack sparrow pirates of the caribbean was confirmed some flavor of homo way back when which means HE was disney’s first gay character yet they refuse to give pirates of the caribbean the credit it deserves and they refuse to my calls where I try and tell them they simply must have jack sparrow pirates of the caribbean kiss a man directly on the lips in the next movie

ehhhhhh I’m evil penis boy im gonna steal your penis

I love you, no homo. The homo costs extra

Yo check this out *<|:) he’s in a party hat

theres way too many kpop references in this quiz

\_/____ it’s a slug

that was the weirdest quiz i’ve taken in a while and i truly enjoyed it

My cat is meowing at me i thin i’m going to die today

FUCK (are you pleased)

I wish I was a nac Mac feegle but more than that I wish I could enjoy being a nac Mac feegle

I forgot what this quiz is about already

I hated these questions and have lost 10000 years of my life answering them (no but thanks for the quiz!!!)

on god I was gonna choose the ‘cuddling stray kittens’ option for the how do u sleep question but then I remembered that I actually did sleep in a refrigerator box on my bedroom floor for months when I was like 9 :/ throwback!!!

when i was 7 i put my hand in a food processor while it was running to “see what would happen” and somehow im 28 and still have all my fingers and toes

this last one deserves its own moment. it’s the best message i got:

congrats on the phd doctor bitch!!!

along with all of these messages, i got a lot of song recs (thank you sm!!) and i got so many lovely messages from people saying they liked the quiz or just other generally nice things and i can’t explain how much serotonin these answers have given me. just wanna thank everyone who took the time to write something in there i loved it!!!!!!!

[itgetsdarksometimes35]

Grace, Too one shot

18+

Pairings: Dark Steve Rogers x reader

Summary: Following up with the reader from grace, too by @darkficsyouneveraskedfor 9 years later.

Warnings: Dub con, kidnapping, multiple pregnancies, children, brainwashing, lots of errors because I just wrote this and didn’t check for grammatical errors, that’s about it I think

A/N: Please be aware of the warnings, they’re there for a reason. Although this story isn’t really going in depth of what happened, I do suggest reading the actual story by the wonderful @darkficsyouneveraskedfor In fact, I’m not suggesting. I’m telling. Go read her stuff becaus it’s legit the best, don’t be dumb. This story couldn’t have been possible without Roo, and I love her so much for allowing me to do this. She really helped bring these dark thoughts I’ve always had out and she has helped inspire me. Thanks for reading, hope you enjoy it! Make sure to give me feedback, it’s my first dark fic/fic in general! Without further ado:

Grace, Too

It has been 9 years. Three of which were spent locked in the basement because I couldn’t be trusted. During the time of the 3rd year I became pregnant. Not a glorious pregnant that you would see in tv, but the kind that makes you feel like you’re actually going to die. Pregnancy with a super soldier baby is regular pregnancy on steroids. Your back hurts 10x more, the kicks are more extreme and happen way before they normally should, and don’t even get me started on the morning sickness. All the while Steve was there being the most dutiful “husband.” We got married the 4th day. I kicked and screamed and punched and all it got me was a sore ass. He insisted I start cooking with the mini kitchen down in the basement. “Can’t trust you with the big guns yet” he had said while chuckling. I wasn’t much of a cook, the most I could afford, really, was ramen. Steve seemed angry at first about this, he face split for just a second before turning into the golden boy America knows and loves. “That’s okay, honey, I’ll get you a cookbook.” So I learned how to cook. It was a bumpy road but all the while Steve was encouraging, even when I totally bombed the food. He’d pat my leg and say “don’t worry you’re meant to succeed. There’s a reason I chose you, right?.” That smile of his I grew to despise. Partly because after a while I forgot what other smiles looked like on other people. Were they usually that perfect? I couldn’t remember. Another part was because I felt a tug at my heart, after a while, every time he smiled at me. I won’t say the tug was love, more like a tug that a prey would feel if it’s hunter found it to be too adorable to eat. I kept the basement spotless. Not very hard considering I only had a small kitchen with a stove, a mini fridge, a closet with utensils and food, a cooler that he filled with ice everyday, and a small counter; a sitting area with 2 chairs and a table (where Steve and I had dinner); a bathroom with a sink, toilet, small bath with legs, and a cabinet for storage; and finally a main room with a bed, and a tiny bookshelf with 3 books, aside from the 5 cooking books he got me. Steve told me I’d be rewarded with a new book every time I was good. I’ll tell you now, I only got 5 more books during those 3 years. I never really read the 3 books. Sure, my eyes glossed over them from cover all the way to the end, but I couldn’t tell you crap about Animal Farm or how it ended. Everyday he would come down after work and ask me how my day was, as if it could’ve possibly changed from the day before. He would inspect the small area I was forced to call my home, and he would smile with approval if it was up to his standards and punish me if they weren’t. The first few weeks were rough to say the least.

“Honey, you haven’t cleaned. You know what my expectations are.”

“Fuck you and you’re expectations. You’re batshit, you kidnapped me and you’re forcing me to be your wife! You need help!”

After that he’d put me over his knee and make me count. If I lost count he’d start all over. That’s the Steve I grew to know. Not the helping old ladies across the street Steve, not the I saved the world again Steve. The Steve that was broken down and tired from all the world threw at him was the one that kidnapped me. After checking to see if I did my chores, he then checked to see if his dinner was ready. One time I made a singular chicken leg. He didn’t find it funny. He didn’t hurt me often, unless it was sex or a spanking, but that day he slapped me in the face and yelled at me for being disrespectful.

“Don’t you see all that I’ve done for you? And you have the nerve to do this? Don’t be a bitch, y/n.”

“Please, Steve, just let me go.”

After that he realized what he’d done and held my crying form until I fell asleep. I woke up with an already made breakfast and an apology note.

After dinner we had sex. No, sex isn’t the right word. That would imply it was mutual, it wasn’t. But what other choice did I have? The first few nights I did try to stop him, but what’s the point? I’d wake up with bruises on my wrists from him holding me down tightly. So I just laid there. Sadly, he wasn’t too keen on that either. He’d just hit that one spot hard over and over until I was a moaning mess beneath him, begging for him. Begging for what, I still don’t know. Most times he’d make me cum over and over, just because he knew I had no other choice. He knew that I thought bed was my last source of self control; he made sure to show me that not even there I could escape the way he wanted me to feel, to think. After he was finally finished he’d roll over and pull me to his chest. We spent every single night together. He’d caress my face and push the hair out of my eye and give me such a lust blown stare.

“You know I love you, right honey?”

He wasn’t really asking

“Do you love me too?”

If I said no he’d climb back on top of me and either deny me orgasms until I was begging for him to let me cum or he’d make me cum until I was too weak to say anything but the banter of his name and “I love you, too”

The “wedding” was stupid. That’s the only word for it. Nobody was in attendance, except the spider in the corner, but he acted like there was a full house. He made me walk down an “aisle” that was really from the bathroom to him in the middle of the main room. I wore a white gown that looked like it was plucked out of a I Love Lucy episode with a pearl necklace that would make Audrey Hepburn squeal. The shoes were kitten heels that made me feel like I was walking on glass. He wore a plain black suit with a bow tie. He gave a speech and gestured to people not there and then motioned to me. I repeated some of his lines like “I knew it was love when I first saw you” and “I couldn’t be happier than in this moment.” Then he slipped the ring on, we kissed, we signed a paper, and then we danced. During which we both cried. He cried because his twisted fantasy was going his way and I cried because I realized the weight of what I’d just lost. My freedom, my job (even if it sucked), my chance at a real beautiful wedding with the wedding dress of my choosing and the man of my dreams. Most of all I wept for my future. Where was I headed?

I don’t know why it took so long for me to get pregnant. For a while I just thought we couldn’t. The serum obviously had a negative affect on his swimmers. I wasn’t going to suggest this, of course. Then he would find another way to get me pregnant, and I didn’t want that. I could handle the cleaning, the cooking, the persona of a perfect 1940’s housewife, but a baby? Before this I didn’t really know if kids were in my future, but now that I was in the situation that I was in I knew I couldn’t bring a baby into these living conditions. Born into a prison they can never escape from. Some part of me feared it was my fault. I swallowed this theory as well, this could be worse for me than the other one. If u were the problem what would Steve do? It wouldn’t be as easy as letting me go, I’ve seen too much of his true side. The fear ate me alive for 3 years, the entire time I suffered in silence just like I did everything else. Steve didn’t seem too upset about my lack of fertility, and if he was he didn’t show it. He was always so... chippy. Three years straight and never once did he get angry about the lack of a child. One day I was cleaning the room when Steve came in. I immediately jumped up while a cold sweat came down my body. Why is he here? I didn’t cook dinner yet, will he be mad? I don’t have on my housewife dress yet, it gets in the way of my cleaning. He strode in like he’d been given a raise.

“S-steve?”

He hummed but didn’t look up from the bag he had carried in and was now looking through on the kitchen table.

“Why are you home so early? I haven’t made dinner and I’m not dressed properly yet...”

“That’s alright, darling, I’ve got a surprise for you.”

“A surprise?”

My heart fluttered at this. Was he going to let me walk outside? Or was it more of an object gift? Did he bring me a cell phone? Or a watch? The only way I could tell time was when he woke me up to tell me he was leaving and that he needed a kiss goodbye. I knew I had a while before he got back but the actual time and date was lost on me.

He chuckled, again not looking up. “Well, two gifts actually.”

I start stepping closer, the anticipation killing me. He pulls out a box. He finally looks up and smiles at me. He pushes it towards me and says “open it.”

I do and inside is a onesie with a Captain America shield on it. Right next to it is a stick I’ve grown very accustomed to seeing with one line on it.

“Steve, I don’t understand..”

“I figured it’s been a while since the last time we checked. Why not give it another go, hm? I’m feeling lucky about this time.”

It was in that moment I became aware of everything in slow motion and HD. Was it always this hot in here? Is the basement really this small? Has the fridge always made such an annoying sound?

Steve walked me to the bathroom while I followed absentmindedly. I sat on the toilet and peed. It was in this moment I realized I couldn’t remember my last period. I also became freakishly aware that my stomach has been killing me for days and my boobs have been extremely tender. But I wrote them all off as being his fault. My breasts were because he was too rough in bed, my period being out of wack because I haven’t had contact with another female to sync up with (or maybe I just couldn’t remember because I had no sense of true time), and my stomach because I had been working tirelessly and I hadn’t seen the sun in years. As a timer on Steve’s phone, that I hadn’t realized he even pulled out, he immediately grabs the test. He grows a wicked smile and grabs me and gives me the tightest hug. Turns out it was his fault I was feeling the way I was feeling, it just had nothing to do with any of my theories.

After that he moved me upstairs. He made it such a big deal, I was just being moved from one prison to another. This prison was slightly nicer, though. He had a full kitchen that was bigger than the whole basement. A living room with a tv (I was on restriction from what I could watch but it was still better than those dusty books) A radio, that told me the time and gave me a date every morning (complimentary from man named Joshua Tucker that played the “best classics”). The biggest room in the house was the room I’d be sharing with Steve from now on. There were locks on the windows and doors that could only be unlocked by Steve’s handprint, but I at least got natural lighting up here. Down there all I got were a few dull lightbulbs hanging from the ceiling.

As Steve put it this meant more responsibility. More room meant more things to clean. He said he believed in me. He said I’d been a good girl lately and seeing as I’m not pregnant, I needed a better place to stay. He also mentioned that he wouldn’t hesitate to put me back downstairs if I didn’t behave. I believed him and decided that up here was better. So I behaved. He gave me prenatal to take and another medicine to help with my body’s pains. He was less rough with me in bed but he still had that edge to him. He always rubbed my growing belly, kissed it good morning and goodnight, and sometimes he would talk to it. Once I woke up to him reading to it. It was almost...normal.

One day while walking (more like waddling) around the house with my 3 month belly that, thanks to the serum, made me look 7 months. I came across a room I hadn’t been in yet. Steve didn’t introduce me to it so I hadn’t felt the need. I was ahead on my chores and the radio said I had a few more hours before I had to start dinner, so I let myself in. I figured if I were to get into trouble for going inside I would just tell Steve that I was trying to clean it, although lying with him was never my strong point. Inside was a nursery. A black toy car ford was in the corner, big enough for a toddler to ride around in. The crib was gray with a stuffed bear inside, the walls were a gray color, matching the crib, with a white accent wall. There was a changing table and the closet was open spilling at the seams with clothes. There was a toy box and a million picture frames that were yet to be stripped of their generic photos of a happy family. I knew this day would come, where would the baby sleep? It nonetheless freaked me out. It was too real. I was pregnant. I was locked in the house like a prisoner. My baby was now going to be a prisoner. Did Steve want a boy? Everything was a generic boy theme. There was even a photo album on the table that said “daddy’s little boy.” What would happen if it were a girl? I quickly leave the room shutting the door behind me. I look down the hallway and realize there’s several other rooms I hadn’t been in. Were they always there? How big could this house get? There were at least 7 other rooms and every one of them was a nursery. One was a boy nursery another was a girl, there was even a twin themed nursery. This was just baby number one.

By the time it was time for me to give birth, I was so big I couldn’t see a good 2 feet directly below and ahead of me. My hips hurt, my back hurt, my feet hurt. If I would’ve felt several kicks I would’ve said I was pregnant with quadruplets. I knew it was just a single birth, though. I always felt two feet kicking me on one side. I had no actual medical care, Steve said I didn’t need it. He said his grandmothers had given birth to both his parents at home with no problem and during their entire pregnancy hadn’t seen a doctor once. I gave birth on our bed. I felt like I was pushing for hours and the pain was the worst thing I had ever felt. Steve delivered the baby. He was a healthy looking baby boy, to which he named after himself. He had my laugh and my smile but his father’s everything else. Steve was right to name him after himself. The next pregnancies went the same way, none of them getting easier. Sarah was next, she was a spitting image of me, but she acted like Steve’s mother (or so he says). Next came the twins Peggy and Joseph, then Mary-Ann then Virginia-Lynn. I had no say in Sarah’s and Stave’s names but I chose the others. He did give me a list I was told to chose from, but I got the final say nonetheless. We filled up the house pretty quickly.

Now here I sit, pregnant, while Steve helps the kids open their presents. I made hot cocoa while the kids and Steve were out playing in the snow. I was allowed out while pregnant with Sarah, Steve said it was good to have fresh air while pregnant and Steve Jr was getting a little stir crazy while being kept in the house all day. I never tried anything, where would I go? What would I do? Who would believe me? It was better to just sit there, look pretty, while pregnant with my husband’s children. All with grace, too.

@jtargaryen18

[tswiftdaily]

TAYLOR SWIFT: 30 THINGS I LEARNED BEFORE TURNING 30

According to my birth certificate, I turn 30 this year. It's weird because part of me still feels 18 and part of me feels 283, but the actual age I currently am is 29. I've heard people say that your thirties are "the most fun!" So I'll definitely keep you posted on my findings on that when I know. But until then, I thought I'd share some lessons I've learned before reaching 30, because it's 2019 and sharing is caring.

ONE: I learned to block some of the noise. Social media can be great, but it can also inundate your brain with images of what you aren’t, how you’re failing, or who is in a cooler locale than you at any given moment. One thing I do to lessen this weird insecurity laser beam is to turn off comments. Yes, I keep comments off on my posts. That way, I’m showing my friends and fans updates on my life, but I’m training my brain to not need the validation of someone telling me I look . I’m also blocking out anyone who might feel the need to tell me to “go die in a hole ho” while I’m having my coffee at nine in the morning. I think it’s healthy for your self-esteem to need less internet praise to appease it, especially when three comments down you could unwittingly see someone telling you that you look like a weasel that got hit by a truck and stitched back together by a drunk taxidermist. An actual comment I received once.

TWO: Being sweet to everyone all the time can get you into a lot of trouble. While it may be born from having been raised to be a polite young lady, this can contribute to some of your life’s worst regrets if someone takes advantage of this trait in you. Grow a backbone, trust your gut, and know when to strike back. Be like a snake—only bite if someone steps on you.

THREE: Trying and failing and trying again and failing again is normal. It may not feel normal to me because all of my trials and failures are blown out of proportion and turned into a spectator sport by tabloid takedown culture (you had to give me one moment of bitterness, come on). BUT THAT SAID, it’s good to mess up and learn from it and take risks. It’s especially good to do this in your twenties because we are searching. That’s GOOD. We’ll always be searching but never as intensely as when our brains are still developing at such a rapid pace. No, this is not an excuse to text your ex right now. That’s not what I said. Or do it, whatever, maybe you’ll learn from it. Then you’ll probably forget what you learned and do it again.... But it’s fine; do you, you’re searching. 

FOUR: I learned to stop hating every ounce of fat on my body. I worked hard to retrain my brain that a little extra weight means curves, shinier hair, and more energy. I think a lot of us push the boundaries of dieting, but taking it too far can be really dangerous. There is no quick fix. I work on accepting my body every day.

FIVE: Banish the drama. You only have so much room in your life and so much energy to give to those in it. Be discerning. If someone in your life is hurting you, draining you, or causing you pain in a way that feels unresolvable, blocking their number isn’t cruel. It’s just a simple setting on your phone that will eliminate drama if you so choose to use it.

SIX: I’ve learned that society is constantly sending very loud messages to women that exhibiting the physical signs of aging is the worst thing that can happen to us. These messages tell women that we aren’t allowed to age. It’s an impossible standard to meet, and I’ve been loving how outspoken Jameela Jamil has been on this subject. Reading her words feels like hearing a voice of reason amongst all these loud messages out there telling women we’re supposed to defy gravity, time, and everything natural in order to achieve this bizarre goal of everlasting youth that isn’t even remotely required of men.

SEVEN: My biggest fear. After the Manchester Arena bombing and the Vegas concert shooting, I was completely terrified to go on tour this time because I didn’t know how we were going to keep 3 million fans safe over seven months. There was a tremendous amount of planning, expense, and effort put into keeping my fans safe. My fear of violence has continued into my personal life. I carry QuikClot army grade bandage dressing, which is for gunshot or stab wounds. Websites and tabloids have taken it upon themselves to post every home address I’ve ever had online. You get enough stalkers trying to break into your house and you kind of start prepping for bad things. Every day I try to remind myself of the good in the world, the love I’ve witnessed and the faith I have in humanity. We have to live bravely in order to truly feel alive, and that means not being ruled by our greatest fears.

EIGHT: I learned not to let outside opinions establish the value I place on my own life choices. For too long, the projected opinions of strangers affected how I viewed my relationships. Whether it was the general internet consensus of who would be right for me, or what they thought was “couples goals” based on a picture I posted on Instagram. That stuff isn’t real. For an approval seeker like me, it was an important lesson for me to learn to have my OWN value system of what I actually want.

NINE: I learned how to make some easy cocktails like Pimm’s cups, Aperol spritzes, Old-Fashioneds, and Mojitos because…2016.

TEN: I’ve always cooked a LOT, but I found three recipes I know I’ll be making at dinner parties for life: Ina Garten’s Real Meatballs and Spaghetti (I just use packaged bread crumbs and only ground beef for meat), Nigella Lawson’s Mughlai Chicken, and Jamie Oliver’s Chicken Fajitas with Molé Sauce. Getting a garlic crusher is a whole game changer. I also learned how to immediately calculate Celsius to Fahrenheit in my head. (Which is what I’m pretty sure the internet would call a “weird flex.”)

ELEVEN: Recently I discovered Command tape, and I definitely would have fewer holes in my walls if I’d hung things that way all along. This is not an ad. I just really love Command tape.

TWELVE: Apologizing when you have hurt someone who really matters to you takes nothing away from you. Even if it was unintentional, it’s so easy to just apologize and move on. Try not to say “I’m sorry, but...” and make excuses for yourself. Learn how to make a sincere apology, and you can avoid breaking down the trust in your friendships and relationships.

THIRTEEN: It’s my opinion that in cases of sexual assault, I believe the victim. Coming forward is an agonizing thing to go through. I know because my sexual assault trial was a demoralizing, awful experience. I believe victims because I know firsthand about the shame and stigma that comes with raising your hand and saying “This happened to me.” It’s something no one would choose for themselves. We speak up because we have to, and out of fear that it could happen to someone else if we don’t.

FOURTEEN: When tragedy strikes someone you know in a way you’ve never dealt with before, it’s okay to say that you don’t know what to say. Sometimes just saying you’re so sorry is all someone wants to hear. It’s okay to not have any helpful advice to give them; you don’t have all the answers. However, it’s not okay to disappear from their life in their darkest hour. Your support is all someone needs when they’re at their lowest point. Even if you can’t really help the situation, it’s nice for them to know that you would if you could.

FIFTEEN: Vitamins make me feel so much better! I take L-theanine, which is a natural supplement to help with stress and anxiety. I also take magnesium for muscle health and energy.

SIXTEEN: Before you jump in headfirst, maybe, I don’t know...get to know someone! All that glitters isn’t gold, and first impressions actually aren’t everything. It’s impressive when someone can charm people instantly and own the room, but what I know now to be more valuable about a person is not their charming routine upon meeting them (I call it a “solid first 15”), but the layers of a person you discover in time. Are they honest, self-aware, and slyly funny at the moments you least expect it? Do they show up for you when you need them? Do they still love you after they’ve seen you broken? Or after they’ve walked in on you having a full conversation with your cats as if they’re people? These are things a first impression could never convey. 

SEVENTEEN: After my teen years and early twenties of sleeping in my makeup and occasionally using a Sharpie as eyeliner (DO NOT DO IT), I felt like I needed to start being nicer to my skin. I now moisturize my face every night and put on body lotion after I shower, not just in the winter, but all year round, because, why can’t I be soft during all the seasons?!

EIGHTEEN: Realizing childhood scars and working on rectifying them. For example, never being popular as a kid was always an insecurity for me. Even as an adult, I still have recurring flashbacks of sitting at lunch tables alone or hiding in a bathroom stall, or trying to make a new friend and being laughed at. In my twenties I found myself surrounded by girls who wanted to be my friend. So I shouted it from the rooftops, posted pictures, and celebrated my newfound acceptance into a sisterhood, without realizing that other people might still feel the way I did when I felt so alone. It’s important to address our long-standing issues before we turn into the living embodiment of them.

NINETEEN: Playing mind games is for the chase. In a real relationship or friendship, you’re shooting yourself in the foot if you don’t tell the other person how you feel, and what could be done to fix it. No one is a mind reader. If someone really loves you, they want you to verbalize how you feel. This is real life, not chess.

TWENTY: Learning the difference between lifelong friendships and situationships. Something about “we’re in our young twenties!” hurls people together into groups that can feel like your chosen family. And maybe they will be for the rest of your life. Or maybe they’ll just be your comrades for an important phase, but not forever. It’s sad but sometimes when you grow, you outgrow relationships. You may leave behind friendships along the way, but you’ll always keep the memories.

TWENTY-ONE: Fashion is all about playful experimentation. If you don’t look back at pictures of some of your old looks and cringe, you’re doing it wrong. See: Bleachella.

TWENTY-TWO: How to fight fair with the ones you love. Chances are you’re not trying to hurt the person you love and they aren’t trying to hurt you. If you can wind the tension of an argument down to a conversation about where the other person is coming from, there’s a greater chance you can remove the shame of losing a fight for one of you and the ego boost of the one who “won” the fight. I know a couple who, in the thick of a fight, say “Hey, same team.” Find a way to defuse the anger that can spiral out of control and make you lose sight of the good things you two have built. They don’t give out awards for winning the most fights in your relationship. They just give out divorce papers.

TWENTY-THREE: I learned that I have friends and fans in my life who don’t care if I’m #canceled. They were there in the worst times and they’re here now. The fans and their care for me, my well-being, and my music were the ones who pulled me through. The most emotional part of the Reputation Stadium Tour for me was knowing I was looking out at the faces of the people who helped me get back up. I’ll never forget the ones who stuck around.

TWENTY-FOUR: I’ve had to learn how to handle serious illness in my family. Both of my parents have had cancer, and my mom is now fighting her battle with it again. It’s taught me that there are real problems and then there’s everything else. My mom’s cancer is a real problem. I used to be so anxious about daily ups and downs. I give all of my worry, stress, and prayers to real problems now.

TWENTY-FIVE: I remember people asking me, “What are you gonna write about if you ever get happy?” There’s a common misconception that artists have to be miserable in order to make good art, that art and suffering go hand in hand. I’m really grateful to have learned this isn’t true. Finding happiness and inspiration at the same time has been really cool.

TWENTY-SIX: I make countdowns for things I’m excited about. When I’ve gone through dark, low times, I’ve always found a tiny bit of relief and hope in getting a countdown app (they’re free) and adding things I’m looking forward to. Even if they’re not big holidays or anything, it’s good to look toward the future. Sometimes we can get overwhelmed in the now, and it’s good to get some perspective that life will always go on, to better things.

TWENTY-SEVEN: I learned that disarming someone’s petty bullying can be as simple as learning to laugh. In my experience, I’ve come to see that bullies want to be feared and taken seriously. A few years ago, someone started an online hate campaign by calling me a snake on the internet. The fact that so many people jumped on board with it led me to feeling lower than I’ve ever felt in my life, but I can’t tell you how hard I had to keep from laughing every time my 63-foot inflatable cobra named Karyn appeared onstage in front of 60,000 screaming fans. It’s the Stadium Tour equivalent of responding to a troll’s hateful Instagram comment with “lol.” It would be nice if we could get an apology from people who bully us, but maybe all I’ll ever get is the satisfaction of knowing I could survive it, and thrive in spite of it.

TWENTY-EIGHT: I’m finding my voice in terms of politics. I took a lot of time educating myself on the political system and the branches of government that are signing off on bills that affect our day-to-day life. I saw so many issues that put our most vulnerable citizens at risk, and felt like I had to speak up to try and help make a change. Only as someone approaching 30 did I feel informed enough to speak about it to my 114 million followers. Invoking racism and provoking fear through thinly veiled messaging is not what I want from our leaders, and I realized that it actually is my responsibility to use my influence against that disgusting rhetoric. I’m going to do more to help. We have a big race coming up next year.

TWENTY-NINE: I learned that your hair can completely change texture. From birth, I had the curliest hair and now it is STRAIGHT. It’s the straight hair I wished for every day in junior high. But just as I was coming to terms with loving my curls, they’ve left me. Please pray for their safe return.

THIRTY: My mom always tells me that when I was a little kid, she never had to punish me for misbehaving because I would punish myself even worse. I’d lock myself in my room and couldn’t forgive myself, as a five-year-old. I realized that I do the same thing now when I feel I’ve made a mistake, whether it’s self-imposed exile or silencing myself and isolating. I’ve come to a realization that I need to be able to forgive myself for making the wrong choice, trusting the wrong person, or figuratively falling on my face in front of everyone. Step into the daylight and let it go.

ELLE