#i think about our pack bonding i think about our creativity i think about our capacity to care i think about our ability to adapt

[nat-20s]

Sorry I have a deep unshakeable and unabashed love of humanity 🙄 as of it's my fault the vast majority of humans are decent people trying to live good lives

[abductedlawnchair]

*ranting and raving and stomping on rooftops and flailing my arms about* HUMANS ARE AMIMALS!!! WE ARE ANIMALS!!! QUIT ACTING LIKE WE'RE NOT!!!

I am so goddamn tired of society acting like we're not!!! I am so goddamn tired of us as a society acting like we are above all the other animals!!! I do not care that we are the apex!!! We are fucking ANIMALS!!! Like, just take a step back and observe us like we have our own nature documentary on Nat Geo or something. Maybe with David Attenborough or whatever, idc. Just imagine it.

We are a species of apes that just so happened to gain the ability of extremely complex and abstract thought, capability of language, an almost absurd level of self-awareness, and the type of intelligence that allowed us to discover, invent, and develop tools. A species of apes that just so happen to have such a crazy level of curiosity that we have the capability to learn about the world around us, and beyond.

The way we learn and develop is fascinating. If you observe a toddler from that standpoint, watching them interact with the world around them, you'd see how natural curiosity is to us, in our human nature. Neil deGrasse Tyson has literally said that children are beings of chaos because they're curious and learning about the world around them.

We all have children in us, just like we have our ancestors in us!!! Our brains are wired like theirs. Relatively, we have been in this state of society for an extremely short amount of time!! Our brains and nervous systems are still wired to survive and keep us safe from predators and other dangers!!

We are social creatures!! We need love and connection to survive!! We can't do things on our own. The only reason we ever got to where we are is because we work together and communicate and share knowledge. The way society is right now is too isolating!! Humans aren't meant to be fighting for a place in society!! Haven't you seen zookeepers?? Or anyone who cares for nature in any capacity?? We have an incredible capacity for compassion and caretaking, because we have the capability to know and understand the inner workings of ourselves and countless other species!! Caretaking and compassion is literally an innate human trait!! We're supposed to take care of each other and the world around us!! We literally are capable of pack bonding with ROOMBAS, for fucks sake!! Little robots that our ape brains see moving around on its own, being part of our homes, and thinks "little guy is alive... I love him"!!! Isn't that beautiful???

We were an evolution of Mother Earth, Herself, to grow Her and expand Her and care for Her!!! Whether you believe in intelligent design or just the absurdity of it all, it still happened like that. We have the capacity to care for Her in an evolved level, yet we're fucking it up so badly right now.

Indigenous cultures have always been on the right track. They've always been right about this. They have always known that we are all pieces of the same organism, just like the atoms and cells and organs and electricity in your body are all part of one body!!

And btw, culture is another HUGE part of us being social creatures!! Being expressive and creative and connected!! That's part of our nature!! We're meant to sing and dance and laugh together!! That connectivity of us being a collective is So Important!!! Making fun of people for being "sheep", or having "herd mentality" every single time is so stupid because yes!!! Yes that's EXACTLY how we are supposed to be!!! We are social creatures, remember?? The whole point is that we do things together!!!

I know how society is rn isn't the end all, be all, but it just breaks my heart that this Capitalism shit goes against some of the most beautiful parts of humanity!! We are animals!!! We are cute and curious and compassionate and social and we need warmth and sunlight and sustenance from the earth and water and sleep and shelter from the elements!! We have instincts just like everything else!! We came from the dust and we will return to the dust because we will always be part of the Earth, just like all the other animals!! And somehow, despite all odds, despite how robotic Capitalism wants us to be, our human nature seeps into everything.

Take care of yourself! You are an animal, after all! <3

*climbs off rooftop... for now*

[ckret2]

I have one/two acronyms for the bounty hunter

HASO (Humans Are Space Orcs)

EISA (Earth Is Space Australia)

Then you add the peculiar flavor of weird that is Gravity Falls

That or the poor bounty hunter is an INSURANCE hunter and claimant for the UFO (Space tax evasion!)

Honestly I'm not a big fan of the "humans are space orcs/earth is space Australia" thing. By this point, it's become very "humans are the ONLY species that's strong, that's brave, that's loyal, that's self-sacrificial, that's protective, that gets scared for fun, that heals from wounds, that can work hard for a day straight, that can solve problems with creative thinking, that can eat poisons too strong for any other creature's delicate digestive tracts, that—" Like, there's very little that we're the absolute best at even on our own planet. "oOoOo humans are SO TOUGH we like to eat HOT PEPPER EVEN THOUGH IT HURTS—" birds don't even taste capsaicin. Cows and rabbits can eat deadly nightshade. They're the space orcs now.

The most often reblogged HASO/EISA stories have turned into a form of speculative fiction that fails to offer any speculation on the capabilities and potential of cool alien species, and instead is just humans bragging about their favorite parts of humanity by deciding nobody else could ever achieve the same feat—"No one heals like Gaston, invents wheels like Gaston, no one persistence hunts for their meals like Gaston!"

Why should we believe that intelligent cooperative spacefaring aliens of multiple species from multiple worlds are universally deficit in the capacity for self-sacrifice, or eating things that hurt, or thinking other animals are cute enough to pack bond with them, such that the human race is the only species with such a capability they've ever seen? Why are we to believe that no other intelligent life-producing planet has ever had tornadoes, earthquakes, large predator species, whatever? It's so self-congratulatory it implicitly stunts and limits the potential of the entire rest of the universe. If no other species can ever be As Much As humans and if no other world can ever be As Much As earth... then everyone and everywhere else is less interesting than us.

Who wants to play in a sci-fi setting like that? A setting where everything that could be cool and fun and new is, by the very definition of the genre, defined by how inferior it is to what we already know?

The idea that the UFO is part of a tax evasion scheme is very funny tho

[omegaversetheory]

Question, what would you consider "Non traditional A/B/O" I'm curious cause I feel like it's miss used alot

oh i agreeee.

But before I get into what non-traditional is, I think it would be easier to list what I think traditional is.

One of the main protagonists and/or love interests/part of the coupling is an alpha.

The alpha is male coded (even if they aren't male). The omega is female coded (even if they aren't female).

May have themes of found family/the idea that the individual was not complete until they found x,y,z person (could be in pack setting, via friendship, or via a romantic relationship)

Features some sort of romantic relationship (could be the escalation, de-escalation, termination, re-unification, etc..)

Written from a western cultural perspective (which makes since because I think the majority of the community is north american)

Formulaic.

Escapist and fantastical (what passes for realism here would not pass in other tropes or genres)

Strict binary gender roles/dynamics are heavily binary gender coded. Personally I feel like it gets a little regressive sometimes, which only bothers me when it's touting itself as progressive.

Narrow - in the sense that the story feels very focused on whatever the main storyline is and throws out everything else. Where's the worldbuilding? Where's my immersion?

Quasi-experimental. (I see a lot of different gender and sexual expressions/orientations/etc.. written which is awesome, but it's so common that is not experimental for this genre anymore)

None of these things are bad at all. Much more after the cut.

BUT! if someone was new to the genre and asked me what they should expect I'd hand them this list. I'll always advocate for people to join this community and participate however they want to, but when you've been around for a while you see the same thing time and time again. Non-traditional is hard to write because we are so ingrained in our conventions. But using the framework I've written above here's some ideas of what I think that a non-traditional omegaverse may look like.

No alpha involved. In fact the dynamics of the people in the relationship aren't as important in a traditional omegaverse. (I'd love to see a beta/beta story in which they do not bond over or ever discuss being seen as less desirable than alphas and/or omegas)

Binary gender roles and gender as we understand it via our cultures is not a thing. It's common for dynamics to be seen as secondary genders traditionally, but what if that was just your primary gender. What if there was no primary/secondary - what if it was just one thing.

No male/female coding. In a three part system this doesn't make sense, but to push that even further I'd love to see a concept of it all that's much more fluid and wholly non-binary that what we understand.

No romance. Let's get a mystery, a horror, a comedy, how about coming of age? No romantic interests as the main plot.

Isn't trying to conform to what we understand to be realism. Take it to the point that it operates like high-fantasy with it's own rules and structures and cultural variations.

Deep. Give me the unique history of the area, of the culture. Give me tasty breadcrumbs of culture and lore in throw away comments or off-hand explainations. Write a story fully immersed in the culture. Make it feel "other"'

Truly experimental. Let's go real off the walls. I mean a story that contains 1-6 will already stand out, but surprise me. Let's subvert traditional omegaverse tropes and conventions even further. Maybe omegas aren't desirable. Maybe the tone is futuristic rather than historical. We get so much commentary on the way things are in our real world, let's get some more and let's also hear about the way we want it to be.

I could go on and on. But I won't. It's getting late lol.

But peanut gallery what do you think? Fill my in-box with synopsis of non-traditional omegaverse stories that hit some of these points or just get creative! What do you feel like is alternative/progressive for this genre?

Also, check out my post about traditional-contemporary-modern-postmodern. Where do your favorite stories stand?

[christiansorrell]

Play-By-Blog #17: The Isle by Luke Gearing

Welcome to my ongoing play-by-blog of The Isle by Luke Gearing! We are playing this adventure with its original system, The Vanilla Game (adjusted somewhat to fit the format). You can check out the Play-By-Blog Repository to get all caught up if you wish.

How Play-By-Blog works:

I write up the situation, NPCs, and more, just like a DM.

You vote in the poll to help decide the character's course of action.

I roll the dice, resolve actions, and write them up next week.

So on and so forth for the rest of the adventure!

Notation:

[Text in brackets is out-of-character/GM text!] "Non-italicized quotes denote text from the original adventure!" "Italicized quotations denotes NPC dialogue."

Our character: Medon Girou - Magic Cutpurse

Our maps: The Isle, The Dungeon (so far)

[You can use the links above to find Medon's Character Sheet and map of the Isle and the so far uncovered portions below the surface. On the Dungeon map, you are currently in Floor 2, in Room 17.]

Now, back to the adventure!

[Shortly after posting the last entry, @wrapping-rags suggested throwing the armor pieces from the corpse in Room 17 onto the pressure plates in Room 18 (instead of casting Sticks to Snakes). Since that's a much more creative and smart solution than the one I originally, suggested I added a disclaimer that the Sticks to Snakes option (which won) would be doing that instead (since I can't modify the poll after posting, sadly). Thanks for the suggestion @wrapping-rags!]

You remember the patrol of Bonded Dead and think again about casting a ritual. Who knows what may come through this area over the course of that time? A better idea strikes you.

You pick up the bent and charred fragments of armor from the corpse at your feet and toss them into the room.

First, the moment the moving metal scrapes across the shimmering plates, sparks fly across the ground - like flint on steel. Second, the armor pieces settle and their weight shifts the plates beneath. From overhead, where you'd noticed the hundreds if not thousands of small hole in the ceiling comes spewing forth thin, jet black oil. It coats the entire floor, splashing up onto the walls.

You've seen traps like this before. Any metal touching the floor with generate a spark and any spark (or other flame) will ignite the oil. Looking down at the blackened husk that was once a man at your feet shows you its effectiveness. If you are to traverse this room, you must tread carefully or die.

With the room already coated in oil and more pieces to spare, you toss 3 more pieces of armor and old equipment from the corpse into the room, landing one on each of the last remaining pressure plates. With each toss, oil spurts down again and across the floor, where it eventually creeps down beneath the plates and into the stone. Still, there is a slick layer covering the room.

You believe you could cross now without triggering the oil, but it will require a careful step. Luckily, you don't wear armor (though you certainly have metal on your pack). You rearrange your equipment as much as possible, placing everything metal you can into you pack and hoping it's enough if you fall.

You creep forward, channeling your stealthiest moments back on the mainland as a cutpurse, when you'd be noticed picking a pocket and have to hide. Town guards were easy enough to fool. They often weren't the sharpest of individuals. Dogs were harder to lose than your average guard, after all.

You step carefully, finding your footing slowly before taking each and every step. After a few tense moments, you find yourself facing the door to the room's east side. It is a wooden door marked with "images of coiling serpents falling into a pit."

You push it open slowly. A dark corridor on the other side turns off the the right. You step quickly out of the trapped room, oily-shoed but unharmed, re-outfit yourself, and continue on.

The corridor heads south, sloping downwards [Encounter Roll: 12 - Nothing]. You smell brackish seawater just before you enter a flooding chamber [Room 12], barely a foot or so of space is visible above the water and beneath the low ceiling. The water is "rotten, black, foul" and eerily still. Your feet rest just barely in the water's edge as the corridor drops even lower into the chamber, you bend down and look as far as you can into the room.

On the north side of this room you see a raised corridor you could clamber into and a slight orange glow coming from further in. To the south, a metal slab - iron perhaps - with no mechanisms or hinges. You can't rightly say what it is.

Suddenly, the "rotten, black, foul" water shifts and in it several [2d4 roll: 3] huge eels with milk-white eyes come writhing across the surface in your direction. They smell your flesh and are moving to feed.

[Initiative Roll: 4 - On evens, players go first.] You have a moment to react as the 3 eels make their way to you, mouths widening as they come. Here, along the water's edge, you likely have an advantage against the creatures, being as used to hunting (and staying) in the water as they are.

[Out of the oil room and into the eel pit! The Isle is full of dangers, but so far, you have navigated them well. What now? See you next week! - Christian]

PBB #18 is up now!

[fieldsofview]

Talk Shop Tuesday!

What made you start writing? What would the you then think of your writing now?

That's hard to say, because it depends on when you define "started writing". I think I started trying to write stories before I even knew how to actually *write* the alphabet - by commandeering my parents bedtime stories and changing the ending.

The first time I remember putting pencil to paper and trying to write a book, I was 8 I think, maybe 9, and I had recently read like two dozen of the warrior cats books. I was convinced I could write something just like them, but with wolf packs. I hand wrote a series of short stories that I stapled together like zines and drew the scenes in the margins. I was quite proud of those at the time.

The first time I thought about writing as an art form though, as a form of creative expression where I felt like I had something to say, was in 10th grade where I wrote a semi-autobiographical novella about growing up in a family where several people have mental diagnoses and several don't and how those layered together to affect both my childhood and my brother's. It was my end of the year thesis and my mom has it kept in a binder in her attic now. Looking back, it's definitely clunky and stilted in it's writing, and maybe didn't quite say exactly what I wanted it to, but the heart was there.

I think high school me would be surprised I don't take writing "seriously" in the way I did back then. Now, I write because I want to, because it's fun and because I love the characters. Yes, I have stories I want to tell, and sometimes they're difficult stories, but writing isn't about the expression of pain and frustration in the way I thought it needed to be back then. I was very convinced of the "tortured author" stereotype back then, I think.

Little kid me would just be happy I'm happy again. I lost my way for a while and I think little kid me would like to know that I've circled back around. And the funny thing is, I think that's about how old I was when I was last this obsessed with marvel, which is my current fic writing special interest, so we'd actually probably be able to bond over our mutual interest lol. Kid me would probably love to read what I've written now.

Thanks so much for asking!! <3

[senp1i]

free-form

I had always been fascinated by Chaeyoung's artistic talent. So when she suggested that we have a painting date, I jumped at the chance. I loved the idea of spending a lazy afternoon with her, surrounded by paints and canvases, lost in the creative process.

We decided to set up our workspace in my backyard, where we could enjoy the sunshine and fresh air. Chaeyoung arrived with her sketchbook and watercolors, while I set up a canvas and oil paints. As we began to paint, I couldn't help but feel a little intimidated - I was nowhere near as talented as Chaeyoung.

"Wow, Chaeyoung, your painting is looking amazing already," I said, admiring the intricate details of the flowers she was painting.

"Thanks, Y/N," Chaeyoung said, smiling at me. "But don't worry about trying to make it look perfect. Just have fun with it."

I nodded, trying to relax and let my creativity flow. Chaeyoung was so easy to talk to, and we chatted about everything from music to movies as we painted.

"Y/N, your painting is coming along great!" Chaeyoung exclaimed, looking over at my canvas. "I love the colors you're using."

"Thanks," I said, feeling a little more confident. "I'm still not sure what it's going to be, though."

"That's okay," Chaeyoung said. "Sometimes it's better to just let the painting guide you."

We painted for a few more hours, lost in the creative process. When we finished, we stepped back to admire our work. Chaeyoung's painting was stunning, as always, while mine was...well, it was definitely not as good.

"I think I need a little more practice," I said, looking at my painting with a critical eye.

"Nonsense," Chaeyoung said, smiling at me. "I love it. It's so colorful and vibrant."

I couldn't help but feel a warm glow of pride at her words. We packed up our supplies and headed inside for some well-deserved refreshments.

As we sat on the couch, sipping our drinks and chatting, I couldn't help but feel grateful for this special day with Chaeyoung. We had bonded over our shared love of art, and I knew that this was a memory I would cherish for a long time.

"Y/N, I had so much fun painting with you today," Chaeyoung said, grinning at me.

"Me too," I said, feeling a little sad that the day was coming to an end. "We should do this again sometime."

"Definitely," Chaeyoung said, reaching over to give me a high-five. "Maybe next time we can try a different medium, like charcoal or pastels."

I smiled, feeling excited at the thought of exploring even more artistic possibilities with Chaeyoung. "I can't wait."

-honestly the whole crap she had to deal with this week was bogus. People online have such few braincells its pathetic.

[theselfdoubtdiaries]

18th June 2024,

Dear Fran,

ergh sorry. I really fell off the bandwagon this time. Not in a bad way I don't think. A lot has happened hey? We installed and opened a show, i packed up and moved to Darwin and started a new job, met. a boy just before I left and he followed me here. Now I've already deinstalled one exhibition and installed another! All in the span of a couple of months.

So I'm sorry it's been a while since I wrote but I didnt feel the need or pull to until this morning. Life has been to busy adjusting to feel like I've had the time to be properly reflective. I did try to go to a cafe this morning and write, but I had forgotten the password to log in and well, it just wasnt to be.

What else? I went to a friends performance art experiment on Friday night. After a 1 week residency with 2 other artist from Brisbane they put on a 40 min absurdist piece. It was quite good. We had a few chats after about the differences between visual and performing residencies. They have such short timelines and sound quite intense. What else? I know how to make focaccia now? So that's a thing. I've run out of flower now though...

I didn't really have much else specific to say, except that i feel oddly at peace at the moment. I still dont have a studio but it doesnt bother me hugely because, im not feeling to urge to make because im being creative and learning so much at work at the moment. Like building up my graphic design skills or getting to do more curatorial work...its still creative, but in other ways. I know we've talked about it but it just feels nice to notice that a bit and be present with it.

I'm excited to contemplate putting together a touring pack for us and our exhibition now. It's a bit of work but at least I have an idea of what to do now, the standard I would want etc.

Anyway, the above images are of the gallery install of Violet Bond's solo show. I love her and her work so much. She's such a cracker. They're not printed on photo paper, but proper cotton rag art paper which has made the blacks super matt and deep and intense. They're so emotive and dramatic in person.

The second one is titled "The Lovely Bones no.5" and is right near my desk at work, when I sit downstairs at reception.

That's all. I think being here is helping repair certain aspects of my relationship with nature. Relationships to fire in the landscape are so different here.

xxxx Zoë

[bienvs3000w24]

Blog 5: Free Write - Camping & Nature

As there was no prompt for this week's blog, I decided to look back on my life experiences and talk about one tradition my family does every summer that has brought us all closer to nature, and that's our annual camping trip. Every year my family and some of my extended family take a trip down to the Bruce Peninsula, specifically the Pinery Provincial Park. This is a tradition we have been doing for the past 8 years and I have enjoyed every single one of them! I always look forward to this trip as I often get caught up in school and work and have little time to enjoy or appreciate the nature around me, but being surrounded by trees with just a tent and a campfire offers a nice break. When we initially started our trips, we would pack quite heavy and bring a lot of supplies, even bringing an air mattress and electric fan the first year haha. However, as we continued, we realized that it would be more enjoyable if we were not bringing all these gadgets that we would have access to at home. For me it largely took away from the experience of being immersed fully in nature. 8 years later, we now try to bring as little as possible, shifting our campsite from very cluttered to much simpler, improving our experience so much!

I wanted to discuss this for my blog post as I think many people have trouble with the distractions of modern life/technology. Cutting out the extra baggage can be really hard at first but when it's just me, my sketchbook, and the sound of the leaves rustling in the trees, I've never been more at peace. I encourage everyone to grab some friends, and family or even go alone and reconnect with nature through its simplicity. 

Here are a couple photos I took from my camping trips over the years :)

As I've mentioned previously I really enjoy being creative and expressing myself through art, so these camping trips are where some of my most creative ideas and visions have been created! Furthermore, they have some of the most beautiful trails throughout the forest and along the beach, some requiring hours to complete. This is one of my favorite things to do with my mom and we bond over it every year, which makes me even more appreciative of nature. My mom, my sister, and I have become quite interested in completing the end-to-end hike where you cover the entire 900 km Bruce Trail on foot over a couple of months. This would be such a cool experience to see the different landscapes all across the Bruce Peninsula and just an overall great accomplishment to have! If any of you have completed it or even did parts of the trail let me know as it would be really cool to discuss it!

I believe everyone should experience camping at least once in their life as it offers a whole new perspective on our relationship with nature. It helps you to not only discover new things about the world around you but also to discover new things within yourself. These trips played a big role in my interest in nature and pursuing environmental science courses at university!

[bindupthesebrokenbones]

Wellness Wednesday

I like to break my week down into daily themes. I posted about Self-Care Sunday and Mindful Monday last year, and this year I'm really holding myself to following these themes. I still struggle with it, but I am seeing some noticeable improvements in my daily life, so I think it's worth trying out if you think it can help you!

Wellness is about practicing healthy habits, daily, to pursue a lifestyle in which you are thriving, rather than just surviving. This can be more or less difficult depending on your circumstances, but the idea is that anyone and everyone can do something each day to improve their life even a little.

Wellness can be broken down into a few sub-categories, in a very similar way to how I broke down self-care.

According to Laurier Wellness Education, the seven dimensions of Wellness are:

Mental

Physical

Social

Financial

Spiritual

Vocational

Environmental

Every Wednesday, I take some time out of my day to do a little research into at least one of these dimensions so that I have a better understanding of how they each affect my life, and I look at things that I can do to improve my daily wellbeing to put into practice for the next week. Usually I know for sure within a week if something will definitely not work for me, so the next week I'll see how it went, and if it's going well, I'll push to do the task for 30 days and make it a habit!

Mental Wellness

Mental wellness is about engaging through learning, creativity, problem-solving, and otherwise pushing yourself to think critically. Daily activities that you can try out to promote mental wellness are reading, playing sudoku, doing crosswords, jigsaw puzzles, drawing or painting, journaling, practicing another language, learning a new skill, and so on.

Physical Wellness

Promote physical wellness through exercise (whatever is within your abilities), good nutrition (balanced meals, developing a positive and healthy relationship with food), and sleeping well (the average adult requires at least 7 hours of sleep per 24 hour cycle).

Social Wellness

Humans are social creatures by nature. We're well-known for pack-bonding with other animals, plants, and even objects. So it makes sense that for a balanced, healthy life, we need to put some time and effort into our social wellness. You can do this by joining a class for a skill you want to learn, joining a group or a club for something you're passionate about, traveling if that's a feasible option for you, checking out a community garden near you, or volunteering at your local library or charity.

Financial Wellness

Financial wellness is something that a lot of people struggle with, especially in mid- to lower income communities. Being financially "well" means having the funds to manage your bills and expenses, weather unforeseen emergencies, pay off your debts, and plan for long-term goals. For many people, this is something that is probably almost impossible, for whatever reason. We are all in different financial situations, and from the outside looking in, it's easy to say that someone who is struggling should or should not do certain things. Some of these ideas may help you reach your financial goals, but only you can determine what is and is not reasonable for your situation. You can try setting and committing to a budget each week or each month, try following a debt snowball plan, track due dates for your bills, hold off on applying for credit/loans, and set up alerts for your checking account.

Spiritual Wellness

Spiritual wellness doesn't have to involve religion, if you don't consider yourself to be religious or if you aren't interested in religion. Spiritual wellness is about finding meaning or purpose in life, and developing your ethics and morals. Practicing spiritual wellness might include things like doing volunteer work, gardening, journaling, creating art, listening to music, and pursuing passion projects.

Vocational Wellness

We achieve vocational wellness when we are satisfied and feel fulfilled from our work and have a healthy work-life balance. Work, in this case, includes full-time, part-time, volunteer, internships, and classes/workshops that forward your professional development. Vocational wellness is entirely subjective - it's about your personal satisfaction and sense of fulfillment. Illinois State University has a good article about this.

Environmental Wellness

Improving your environmental wellness can be easier or harder depending on your situation. Environmental wellness is dependent on your home environment and your work environment, and some situations are easier to improve on than others. Some ways to improve this aspect of your life include removing allergens from your home, switching from harsh chemical cleaners to environmentally friendly alternatives, decluttering your home or workspace, introducing a live plant to a room/desk, set up a space in your home that is a "stress-free zone".

Honorable Mention: Emotional Wellness

The list from Laurier doesn't include emotional wellness, but I want to touch on it as a separate category. This is determined by your ability to handle stress, adapt to change, and cope with hardships. It's important to take time to build up these skills, and you can do this by practicing mindfulness, take time to recognize your emotional responses to situations, learning healthy coping mechanisms, and using affirmations and positive language to improve your outlook.

[fabricdragondesigns]

"If you’re an aspiring actor, and as my advice was good enough for a young Mcavoy I pray you’ll listen now. "When we were filming Pitch Black a producer came to give me a choice. They had a problem and needed to do a reshoot with me and a stuntie. The shoot thus far had been rough. The crew was exhausted. 6 day weeks are unsustainable. Mistakes happen when crews are tired and often on the 6th day. The crew couldn’t say “no” to another Saturday but I could. I asked when they needed a decision & went to speak with some crew. I made sure that they themselves were choosing —rest vs an overtime paycheck— I would not presume to know their needs and priorities. They chose safety and rest. “Safety First,” is after all, an oft heard refrain on any decent set with its priorities in check. I returned to the producer and told him I was too tired and didn’t want to work the Saturday. He looked at me for a few seconds. I was a good actor and a bad liar. He went to say something, nodded instead and rescheduled. We do a lot of things on sets that would otherwise be illegal. It can be thrilling. It’s a privilege. It should never cost a life. I was in my early 20’s when I was asked to make that decision ostensibly for me though realistically on behalf of many. Thankfully I live without regret. For 30 years I’ve been working with firearms consistently and never once referred to a firearm as a prop; it’s a deadly weapon. If you’re on a set that doesn’t provide weapons training & an armorer, I’d leave. If you see an actor put their finger on a trigger before action is called I’d step away, bring it to their attention and tell the AD & armorer a review is necessary. If an armorer is using live ammo on a set, leave, yet treat every “prop” as if it’s fully loaded & never point it at anyone. If anyone but the armorer tries to hand you a firearm, it’s a major red flag. There should be no middle man. Just you and your armorer make the exchange. Actors get infantilized on sets then criticized for childish behavior. I don’t care what number you are on the call sheet. Lead. From the back of the pack if you have to. No job nor career is worth a life. I have pulled stunts early in my career when I could tell they were dodgy. Your stunt double is there to make you look cool but they often do not feel empowered to speak up. Check in with them and use your voice. It’s not about heroism it’s about humanity and navigating frustrating and fateful hierarchies. Whenever I have weapons training and they ask if I’ve had experience with firearms, after 30 years I still say, “Yes, but assume I know nothing and teach me everything.” (I am repeatedly told by armorers and stunt departments that women are easier to train bc they do not think they know everything.) Beginners Mind will keep you humble and others safe. Film culture is unique. Our days are more 5-9 than 9-5. We work on a 24 hr clock and in TV and indie filmmaking, time is the enemy. We hurry up & wait right before we rush to complete the call sheet & before we lose light. We are carnie folk; the kids who didn’t fit in; rebels, outliers, misfits, neurodiverse arty farties. We are a circus that packs up & leaves once the film or series is “in the can” never to reassemble with the same people in the same way again. We experience little deaths in our hearts every time we wrap. Processing that grief & post shoot anticlimax is part of the gig after bonding closely with fellow wild ones hired to recreate some aspect of humanity,only to disperse and move on. We should never be grieving an actual crew member’s preventable death when playing make believe. Play requires the safety of a responsible container. The producers are in charge of that. They need to set up that container, nourish and maintain it with crystal clear communication.  They need to listen and actually care and follow through. They need to identify toxic behavior and address it head on. For too long people who consider themselves to be “non creatives,” have indulged toxic and unsafe behaviors because they think it goes with the territory of being arty and are terrified that if confronted, the artist will walk off and filming will stop. So in this tipping point moment and on this two-way street; actors, please, prioritize being good people before being a great artist. Put the crew first. Speak up. Cultivate an environment of verbal consent. I offer consent to male artists now and they are confused at first by the offer. Persist. You can always find something that a male actor does not like having done to his body. And once you establish that baseline, all the off-air scripts change; vulnerability is better understood.  Safety first. Because from safety, comes great play and beautiful art; delicious co-creation. If you create great art in spite of toxicity it’s a tenuous, unrepeatable, unsustainable and lonely phenomenon. So listen. Observe. Ask questions. Check in with the crew and make *them* cups of tea. Ask them how you make their jobs hard even though movie stars aren’t supposed to. I am devastated about Halyna.  Walking onto a set on Friday morning right after reading the news, I had to work yet again with firearms and a wobbly yet fiercely professional stunt department. We had a top armorer quite literally in the trenches with us. As I stepped onto the muddy set I turned to the armorer and said, “I’m so grateful you’re here.” I turned to the courageous and dutiful stunties, asked if they were ok and said, “If you see or feel something today that worries you, anything, and you speak up and are not heard, find me and I shall speak. *Loudly*” Relative safety and art should be mutually inclusive.  It’s where the secret sauce resides. It’s where true cinema magic is cultivated. The set is my home. If it’s yours too, treat it as you would, the safe haven it deserves to be— especially for those of us who never found a home anywhere else."— Claudia Black (@TheClaudiaBlack), Twitter

[dogloveri23]

Law pt.2

Pairing: Artem x reader, Artem x Rosa, Marius x reader

Warning: Angst as always, not proof read

A/n: Hi *puts on sunglasses* so you all enjoyed the first part so I decided it’s time for part two. 

Written by @dogloveri23

It had been weeks since the banquet, yet he never noticed your disappearance, he never noticed you went radio silent, either  that or he didn't care enough to talk to you . This was a very sad situation. It was very clear to you that your love wasn't reciprocated but it hurt too much! This reflected in your writing as your coworkers could tell that your writing was taking a very heartbreaking turn even worse than it had before. You were is talented writer so you made it work either way, some would say your writing improved since that day, but at what cost? Your smiles seemed forced, you had bags under your eyes and no amount of ice cream Alice bought was helping.

You sat at your desk at the firm deciding to go in today even though it was not necessary.  Most writers has to show up twice a week for story reviews and progression. "Ahh Y/n, you're here, you're feeling better I hope?" Your boss, Faline asked. This earned a simple nod and a small smile from you. "Well, I've tried to work around you, but Mr. Marius von Hagen requested to see you" Faline said scratching her head. "I tried to get him to not bother trying to discuss with you but to no avail" Faline said. You held a look of confusion on your face causing Faline to sigh. "The pax group showed up a few weeks and wanted to look through stories. Mr. Von Hagen said that he'd been looking for a good read but he didn't want to go to a bookstore. We eventually landed on the topic of manuscripts, he said he wanted to have a look at stories in progress. He read a few lines of each, but when he got to yours, he became emerged and since it isn't finished, he doesn't know what happens next. Now he wants to meet you" Faline said. "Does he know I'm here?" You say ready to pack your things and come in another day. "So your the Miss. Y/n? You're were at the banquet, you were under one of our business partners?" The Devil himself, Marius said. "Yes, I suppose I am, if you don't mind, I'll be leaving now" You say as you got ready to leave. "Before that I'd like to have a word with you ....alone" Marius said before escorting you to the meeting room.

"You're a friend of Artem? Or are you a little more than that?" Marius asked as he took a seat an gestured for you to have one as well. "I used to think I was but not, not so much" You say as you take your seat. "You liked him?" Marius said. "Wasn't hard to figure out, I'm sure you put two and two together" You said. "Don't you mean two and one?" He asked only to be met with deadly silence. "Sorry... The two of them are together at the moment, How are you holding up? I haven't seen you since middle school" Marius asked. Marius was a longtime friend of yours but as always certain bonds break over time. "I don't know, honestly" You say before sighing and looking out the window. "I need your help" Marius said. "My help?" You asked confused. "There's an organisation I'd like you to join" He said. "It's called Nxx, most of the details are in this file, you can go through it" He said as he handed you the file. Upon going through it, you realise they mostly solve cases. But how exactly did this concern you, you were a writer, what did creative writing have to do with the law anyway? Marius could tell what you were thinking because the opened his mouth to speak. " You have always been a talented writer and problem solver, even as kids, you always came from an angle that no one would ever think about. Even when reading your story the other day, you lead the audience to believe one thing when the truth had been clear as day right from the beginning. You've always been good with misdirection. I thought you would be a detective or a lawyer one day...." He says causing you to flinch a little. "I have a teacher who's really good at analytic stuff, I'll fill you in on that later. You don't have to join right away but, at least help us with the case at our headquarters" Marius said. "Fine, But you could have at least caught up with me at lunch" You say as you get up from your seat earning a laugh from Marius.

A few days later, you stood outside of Nxx headquarters, waiting for Marius to meet you outside. "Y/n?" A voice asked making you look up from your phone. "What do you want Artem?" You asked before returning your attention to your phone. "Uh.. this is Rosa my..." He started to say but was cut off by you saying "I don't really care". This left him with his mouth wide. Rosa was about to come up with an argument but you took some steps away from them but not too far from the building. Artem was speechless for the first time in a while. Were you mad at him? What did he do? He hadn't seen you in a while and now this? Come to think of it, why hadn't he spoken to you? That must be why you're mad! But that doesn't give you the right to talk to Rosa like that not when she was his world! At least he thought. He approached you in an attempt to confront you but you had no intention of speaking to him or hearing him out. Marius walked out of the building in that exact moment gaining everyone's attention. "You're here Y/n, follow me" He said as he waved at you saving you from the situation. You left the both of them behind without a word, after all he left you first.

[writethelifeyouwant]

Alpha and Omega - Ch 2 / 2

Pairing: Sam x Dean Rating: 18+ Tags: A/B/O, Darkness magic,  Alpha!Dean, Omega!Sam, Dub-Con (biological necessity), little bit of meta (cuz why not), Sam’s a needy mess, Dean is possessive af  Word Count: 4k Created for: @first-time-wincest-fest​ - 12x02 Mamma Mia | @spnabobingo​ - Male Omega | Summary: Amara wants to thank Dean by giving him the thing he needs most – Sam – but she knows the boys are stubborn, so she’s going to have to be creative. Problem is, she doesn’t tell Dean or Sam what she’s put in motion, and magic can be unpredictable.

Despite the many apparent flaws of these British Men of Letters dicks, at least Mick has the good sense to let Dean and Sam go. He offers to try helping Sam, but he doesn’t have any more ideas about his condition than that blonde bitch does, so Dean declines and gets Sam the hell out of dodge.

The moment they make it over the property line and past the efficacy of the anti-angel warding Cas is by their sides, sliding under Sam’s other arm to help Dean carry him to the Impala.

“Don’t touch him,” Dean growls, startling Cas and himself. Cas raises his hands in a show of good faith.

“I am just trying to help, Dean,” he reassures the hunter, lowly.

“Yeah, um, sorry man,” Dean shakes his head to clear it. He doesn’t know why he doesn’t like the idea of anyone else touching Sam right now but he doesn’t want anyone’s hands on his baby brother. Begrudgingly, he lets Castiel grab Sam’s arm and help them to the car, where they gingerly lay a shivering, and for all intents and purposes unconscious, Sam on the back seat. “Cas, what’s wrong with him?” Dean tries to keep a grip on the panic in his voice but he doesn’t have much luck.

“It’s hard to be sure,” Castiel mutters, laying a hand against Sam’s forehead, which is burning hot. “We need to get him home immediately, this fever is dangerously high.”

Dean rounds the car to root through the first aid pack in the trunk, pulling out a few instant cold packs. “Here,” he cracks one up in his hands and passes it to Cas. “Get in back, try to keep him cool.” Cas slides into the back seat of the Impala, pulling Sam over his lap and pressing the cold pack against the young man’s forehead. Dean drops the spare cold packs beside him as he jumps in behind the wheel and peels out of the dirt road driveway in reverse, gunning them back home towards Kansas.

The use of cold packs and bags of ice they picked up at gas stations along their way get the trio home without Sam’s condition worsening. Dean would send up a thank you to Chuck for that except that he’s nearly positive Chuck’s sister is the reason Sam is in this mess in the first place. I thought she wanted to do something to thank me, not destroy my life. They get Sam into bed without too much trouble, and Castiel suggests stripping Sam out of his clothes to help keep him cool.

“Get away from him,” Dean growls, baring his teeth at his friend. Castiel once again looks at him in confusion, his brow crinkling as he stares hard at Dean.

“I’m going to call Rowena, see if maybe she can help us determine what is wrong with Sam.” Cas backs up cautiously, and Dean is glad to see him go.

Once he’s alone with his brother, he does think that stripping Sam down is a decent idea – at the very least he should change him into some clean pyjamas instead of the bloodied tatters he’s dressed in now. Dean sits on the edge of the bed, gently brushing Sam’s hair away from his eyes. He has the sudden urge to lean down and kiss Sam, so he does – very carefully placing his lips against his little brother’s forehead. It seems to Dean like Sam presses back into the kiss, and when his lips retreat, Sam stretches his neck and turns his head into Dean’s side, almost like he’s burrowing there. The unconscious display of affection brings a surge of warmth to Dean’s chest, though he can’t find it in him to smile with Sam like this.

Gingerly, Dean unbuttons Sam’s shirt and eases it over his shoulders, his fingers tracing over Sam’s muscles on the way down each arm. He hadn’t spent too much time around Sam’s unclothed chest recently and he couldn’t help staring at the contours of his frame. Sometimes he spends so much time thinking about Sam as his little brother, he forgets how much he’d built himself up over the years, forgets about the strength that all those layers of shirts they wear everyday are hiding. Dean has to shake himself in chastisement for staring at Sam’s body and lusting after it like a creep when he’s supposed to be taking care of him. How could he be thinking with his dick, even now, when Sam is deathly ill? But he was thinking with his dick, because even seeing Sam half naked for a matter of thirty seconds seems to be enough to give him a semi. For fuck’s sake, Dean curses himself, and sets about the task of easing Sam out of his torn up jeans.

As he gets Sam’s abnormally long jeans off his abnormally long body, three things strike Dean as odd. The first, that the smell he’d overwhelmingly associated with Sam back at the farmhouse in Missouri all of the sudden permeates the air around him. Sure, he’d been smelling it this whole time – it had been almost unbearably strong on the 6 hour drive back to Kansas – but he figured he must have gotten used to it because it had sort of faded into the background until just now. Secondly, the way Sam’s legs were splayed out across the bed right now gave Dean a view of a dark wet patch on the light grey of Sam’s underwear – gross, Dean thinks to himself, until he realises that the stain isn’t on the front of Sam’s briefs like it would be if he’d pissed himself. That examination leads him to his third odd discovery, which is that Sam has a boner.

“Well, what have we here?” Dean spins to see Rowena standing in the doorway, smirking.

“I’m sorry, Sam’s turned into a what?” Dean blinks incredulously at Rowena, who’s perching on the edge of the table in the kitchen. He turns his head to look at Castiel, who is sitting stoically behind Rowena. The angel shrugs unhelpfully.

“An Omega, dearie,” Rowena enunciates more clearly, like she imagines she’s talking to a four year old.

“Right,” Dean nods, although he doesn’t really understand. “And I’m a–”

“An Alpha, yes,” Rowena reiterates, clearly annoyed Dean isn’t getting this. “Well, Sam’s Alpha, more specifically,” she amends.

“And what exactly does all this mean?” Dean grunts, frustrated.

“It means that you and Samuel are mates,” Rowena elaborates.

“We know that, we saw our shared heaven, like a decade ago. What the hell does it have to do with him being sick?”

“Samuel is sick because he’s an Omega in heat, and he needs his mate.”

“Well if I’m his ‘mate’ and he ‘needs me’ – I’m right here! So why isn’t he better?” Dean growls.

“I believe,” Cas clears his throat, “from what I understand of the traditional elements of this condition, that what Rowena means is that Sam needs you, as his mate, physically.” Cas looks sheepishly at Rowena for confirmation.

“Precisely,” she smiles thankfully at Castiel.

“Physically?” Dean’s not any closer to understanding what’s happening. “So what, I need to go hold his hand until his fever breaks?”

“Well, I’m not surprised that you might want to hold his hand, but it’s going to take a wee bit more than that.”

“Will you just tell me how the hell to cure him?” Dean shouts, accidentally shattering the beer bottle he’s holding. He looks down, surprised at his own strength and at the end of his tether now.

“Sexual intercourse,” Cas answers shortly, his face carefully blank. “Though, again, from my understanding, that will only cure his heat. He will remain an Omega and you will remain an Alpha.”

“What the hell are you talking about ‘from what you understand’?” Dean makes indignant air quotes at Cas.

“When Metatron put all of popular culture into my head it included every story ever written. There are a large number of stories on the internet that incorporate the dynamics of the Alpha/Omega hierarchy. It’s a trope primarily found in something called ‘fanfiction’,” Cas explains. “In fact, there is some ‘fanfiction’ about yourself and Sam if it would help you to understand the mating requirements.” Dean feels like he’s going to be sick.

“Cas, listen to me very carefully: under no circumstances are you to ever tell anyone else that those exist,” Dean groans, rubbing the heels of his hands into his eyes. “Why is this happening?”

“That’s the part I’ve not got the faintest idea about,” Rowena sighs. “It would take something more than a simple spell to alter your anatomies like this. Not even an angel,” she glances at Castiel quickly to check she’s right in her assumption. “I’ve never heard of something like this actually happening outside of fiction.”

“It was Amara,” Dean sighs. “When she left she told me she was going to give me what I ‘needed most’, but I don’t know why she thought this was it. It just seems like some sick joke.”

“Ah,” Rowena nods sagely like she understands now. “She was giving you Samuel.”

“How is this ‘giving me’ Sam?”

“A physically bonded Alpha and Omega are bonded for life, inseparable. Without the other, they won’t survive their heats – or ruts, in your case.”

“So every time Sam goes into a heat, we need to have sex, or he dies?” Dean can’t believe how fucked up this is.

“You’ll also need to knot him,” Cas adds gravely. Noticing Dean’s look of incredulity, he continues. “The base of your penis will inflate when you ejaculate and lock you and Sam together for a brief time. It’s the knot that Sam needs to relieve the symptoms of his heat.”

“What the fuck?” Dean blanches.

“Not to importune but I do believe Samuel was running out of time when I examined him. You really should get to it, Dean,” Rowena cuts in.

“And how am I supposed to do that, huh? The guy’s unconscious! I can’t just–” Dean’s stomach roiled. The thought of fucking Sam was tempting, amazingly so, but the thought of doing it to Sam, without his knowledge or participation, was sickening.

“I can make him a wee draft to revive him and stave off the fever,” Rowena moves towards one of the cupboards in the kitchen where Sam keeps the common spell ingredients. “Then Castiel and I can make ourselves scarce and leave you two to it,” she smiles.

“And you’re positive this is the only way?” Dean presses desperately.

“That Amara is a crafty woman, she knew what she was doing.” Rowena throws some herbs into a small dish. “She saw that you would never ‘put the moves on Sam’, as you say. This is her way of giving you both that little push.”

“Yeah, well, she’s a bitch,” Dean grumbles, dropping his head in his hands and waiting for Rowena to finish the potion to wake Sam up.

Sam blinks awake wearily, vaguely aware that he’s safe and not being held captive anymore, but he can’t remember much more than snippets of sound and scent. The rumble of an engine, the smell of motor oil; the low tenor of Dean’s voice, and the scent of whiskey, apple pie, and old leather. He can make out all of those scents now, too, swirling around him and pulling him back into consciousness – like smelling salts.

“Hey, there he is,” Dean’s voice says nearby, he’s sitting on the side of Sam’s bed.

Sam nuzzles towards his older brother, inexplicably craving the closeness. “De,” Sam mumbles, still sleepy.

“Yeah, it’s me Sammy,” Dean smiles down at him gently, eyes soft. Sam feels an unusual rush of need wash over him like a heat wave and he presses himself as close to Dean as two bodies can possibly get with a blanket still in between them.

“Wha s’happening?” he grumbles into Dean’s chest, looping his long arms around his brother’s waist.

“Short version?” Dean scoffs, but not unkindly. “Listen man, I’ll explain everything, I promise but – right now I just need to make sure you get outta this in one piece,” Dean sighs, drawing his hand down Sam’s face and holding his cheek. Sam looks up at Dean quizzically, unused to the level of physical affection but finding he was in desperate want of more. He nods at his big brother – whatever’s wrong, he knows Dean will take care of him. “You trust me Sammy?” Dean’s voice is hoarse, and Sam realises he’s scared.

“Yeah, Dean,” Sam breathes quietly into the slowly decreasing space between them. “Course I do,” he confirms again.

“Alright then,” Dean gulps and nods, mostly to himself though, like he’s trying to psych himself up for something. Then without any further warning, Dean’s lips are covering Sam’s and pressing him down onto the bed.

The fire that had been smouldering inside Sam for days now leaps and dances, as if Dean’s kiss is gasoline being thrown across him. Sam clings to Dean as he’s laid back onto the bed, and lets Dean climb into his lap and bury his hands in Sam’s hair. Dean licks across the seam of his lips and Sam parts them willingly, drinking in every bit of Dean that is being offered to him. He can’t remember why he needs Dean like this so badly, or when he started needing him, but now that he has him he couldn’t care less. He knows with certainty that the only thing he needs to be happy for the rest of his life is Dean – Dean loving him, Dean kissing him, Dean inside him. Fuck, he needs Dean inside him right fucking now.

At this realisation, Sam starts tearing into Dean’s clothes, ripping through the thread keeping buttons in their places without a thought. He expects Dean to start doing the same to him, but then realises he’s not wearing anything but his underwear, which suits Sam just fine. Dean has to pull away from him to wriggle out of his jeans, and Sam groans involuntarily at the sight of the bulge Dean reveals when he strips down.

“Someone likes the view, huh?” Dean teases him, voice deep and throaty, but Sam’s too far gone to come up with a bratty retort. All he can focus on is that he wants Dean’s cock – now.

“Shit, you look so big De,” Sam groans, reaching out a hand to cup around Dean’s member, still hidden behind black cotton. The front of the material is wet with precum, Sam can feel it against his fingertips.

“Think you can handle me, little bro?” Dean grabs Sam’s wrist and drags his fingers along the outline of his cock, up to the elastic waist of his boxers, and then inside them. Sam’s fingers curl around Dean and stroke him gently beneath the fabric. “Think you can fit all that inside your tight little ass f’me?” he grunts, thrusting into Sam’s grip.

“Fuck yes,” Sam rasps, and his breath sounds like it’s raking over hot coals in his throat. He pulls back from Dean to shed his own underwear, staring at it puzzledly when it comes away from his body covered in slick. What is that, he wonders as he feels it on his fingers. It doesn't feel like lube… “Dean?” Sam looks to his brother for answers.

“S’okay,” Dean rushes to reassure him, joining his little brother on the bed, both of them now completely bared to the other. “I’ll explain later, yeah? Just let me take care of you right now, okay?” Dean’s eyes are wide and pleading as he looks to Sam, and Sam nods; he trusts Dean. “Just lemme take care a’you,” Dean whispers again as he brushes their lips together, and Sam pulls him in tight for another bruising kiss.

Their bodies twist and tangle easily, Sam just letting Dean put them together however he wanted. The heat of Dean against him is overwhelming, the sweat on their skin mingles and sticks them together, pulling at their nerves every time they part. Sam doesn’t want them to part. He reaches between them, grabbing Dean’s cock in his hand and thrusts his own into the same grip. Their moans ring through each others’ mouths as Sam jerks them against each other, and they take turns fucking into his fist. Before long Dean pulls away from Sam with a groan, probably to stop himself from finishing before he’s had a chance to see what the inside of his brother feels like. Sam is glad of his consideration in this case, because if he ends tonight without Dean locked firmly inside of him, he’s going to feel like he’s missing out. If he was more clear headed, he might question why the phrase ‘locked inside of him’ is the one that came to mind but he’s not thinking too deeply about what he wants right now — he just wants.

“Need you, Dean,” Sam pants, widely, grabbing at Dean, trying to bring their bodies back together. “Need… ne—” Sam’s vocabulary has become shockingly singular, and he doesn’t have the presence of mind to be irritated with his brother when Dean smiles down at him smugly, knowingly.

“I know what you need, Sammy” Dean grins down at his little brother. Having Sam this strung out and desperate for him is like a drug. I could get used to this being a monthly thing, he smirks to himself, reaching his hand down between Sam’s legs and rubbing at his slick entrance. “Need me right here, dontcha Sammy? I can feel how much you need me,” Dean groans as the tip of his finger slips inside of Sam too easily, “fuck, you’re wet. So fucking wet for me, huh Sammy?”

Sam just nods blissfully down at Dean; it seems his vocabulary of one word has now receded to zero.

Cas had warned him about this, that as an Omega, Sam would start leaking like a fire hydrant, but at least it saved him having to hunt around for some kind of lube — he’d never needed to have that on hand before, and if he found any lying around the bunker there’s a decent chance it would be cursed or something. Plus, he bet this made the whole experience way better for Sam, so he was all for it. Dean moves between Sam’s legs and runs the head of his cock over Sam’s twitching entrance. Sammy lets out a weak moan and arches against the pressure, trying to get Dean to slip inside. Dean’s about to oblige when he remembers what Cas said about them getting locked together by the Alpha’s knot once he comes, and he thinks better of their position. It will be easier to roll on to their sides and rest if he does this with Sam on his hands and knees.

He manhandles Sam into position, rolling him over, and when Sam gets the idea and pushes himself onto his hands and knees, arching his back and presenting himself to Dean like some kind of trophy, Dean can’t hold himself back any longer. He pushes his cock inside Sam slowly, agonisingly and torturously slowly. Not because he’s concerned about hurting Sam, who is opening up beneath him like he was born for this — born to take Dean’s cock — but because he knows he wants to savour this moment for the rest of his life. He wants to remember every second of the first time he felt what it was like to truly possess Sam, to be joined so completely to one another that not even their bodies can keep them separate. So Dean goes slow, even though Sam is begging beneath him, asking him to just fuck him already, Dean ignores him, and he drinks the feelings in.

When he’s got himself bottomed out inside of Sam he leans down over his brother and presses a kiss to his shoulder, tenderly, thanking him for what he’s giving Dean right now. “You feel so good Sammy,” Dean moans, and he doesn’t mean for it to sound as sappy as it does but it’s hard to regulate things like that when you feel like you’ve just connected to your soulmate for the first time, so he gives himself a pass.

The next time Sam begs, Dean gives in, snapping his hips back and fucking into him as hard as he can manage. And once he’s started he can’t stop. Every instinct inside of Dean is shouting at him to take, to fuck Sam into the mattress and never let up, which Sam doesn’t seem to mind, because no matter how roughly Dean thrusts into him he keeps shouting for more, faster, harder, please. So Dean, ever the good big brother, gives Sammy what he needs — what they both need.

Dean can feel himself getting closer and closer to his release, and that’s when he notices that he can’t quite pull out as far as before. His knot has begun swelling at the base of his cock, getting ready to pop and bind him and Sam together. The fattening edges catching on Sam’s rim give Dean a kind of friction no sex ever has before and, fucking hell, it feels unbelievably good. He grinds himself harder against Sam, dropping over his back so they can be as close as possible, and bringing his hand up beneath Sam to grasp at his little brother’s dick. It’s the first time he’s properly touched it, felt it in his hand, and shit, it feels even bigger than it looks.

“Oh my god, Dean,” Sam groans, sounding absolutely wrecked, and Dean takes that as a compliment. “Fuck, don’t stop, don’t stop, fuck, please,” Sam is pleading with him so prettily, and Dean wants to cum just as badly as him.

“Not stopping Sammy,” Dean strokes him faster, grinds into him harder, “not stopping until you cum all over my hand baby boy, so c’mon, want you to cum f’me.” Dean thanks God that Sam starts to cum loudly when Dean tells him too, because the second he feels Sam start to convulse around him his knot pops and he’s cumming harder than he ever has in his life. The thought of his seed whitewashing Sam’s insides is sickeningly thrilling and he swears a second, small orgasm rocks through him — and hey, if that’s a perk of being an Alpha, I could get used to this.

When Dean comes back to himself, his breathing finally evening out, he notices Sam slumped beneath him, no longer holding himself up. He quickly checks for a pulse, and relaxes when he finds one – Sam’s just passed out. Fuck, he came so hard he passed out. Dean shudders, feeling another small blurt of cum force itself out of his cock at the thought that he’d fucked Sam so thoroughly. To be honest he was a little proud of himself.

Dean arranges himself on his side on the bed, so he can curl around Sam while he waits for his knot to deflate. He thought he’d be annoyed by having to stay still like this for so long but it’s surprisingly peaceful, laying here with Sam asleep in his arms. He hugs his little brother tighter to him, clasping his hands over Sam’s chest – over his heart – feels the rhythm and reassures himself that Sam is here, and alive, and safe. And his. The realisation hits Dean unexpectedly. Sam is finally his in the most permanent way he can think of, and his heart leaps at the thought. The last thing he thinks before he drops off to sleep too, is that he hopes Sam still wants to be his when he wakes up.

Tags: @vulgar-library​ @tintentrinkerin​ @negans-lucille-tblr​ @fandomfic-galore​ @petitgateau911​ @whoreforackles-deactivated20210​ @schaefchenherde​ @kickingitwithkirk​ @little-diable​ @laxe-chester67​ @kassyscarlett​ @akshi8278 @deandreamernp @lyarr24 @lovealways-j @stoneyggirl 

[bluehairedtracii]

Hooks and Coins|| Harry Hook x Reader Soulmate AU!

Requested: by @lemonypink

Warnings: Harry being cute 

Pairings: Harry Hook x Swann-Turner! Reader

Author's note: Oh my gosh this took so long! I’m literally so sorry! My motivation for writing has been a little iffy lately. Buuutt I’ve also been binging Criminal Minds soo it kinda gave me a creative push to start writing again. (Spencer Reid fics comin in the future) Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy this fic as I get back into writing again. 

P.S. Melody is Melody from the second little mermaid movie, and I know she's kinda not mentioned again in the fic but just know that this is y/n’s best friend and that’s who she is lmao.  I also thought the Coin would fit well in here because of the movies just sshhhh. Enjoy!!!!

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

"it's soon! I swear!" The night of your 16th birthday, the day your life would change.

The day you get your soulmate tattoo.

"Are you sure??" Melody whines. "I'm positive! Look, it's not even 12:00 on the dot yet- ONE MORE MINUTE!" You look back from the phone on your lap to your right wrist.

"It's twellveeee." Melody cooed.

"Please please please..." You muttered still hopeful.

Then it hit, well stung. "Ow, ow, I feel it!"

"Let me see!" Melody basically climbed on top of you and saw it before you could. She gasped "oh my gosh y/n..." "What? What is it?" You tried to pull back your wrist to see, but Melody kept it steady.

"Y/n, as your best friend, I have to warn you as to what you're about to see...."

"C'mon Mells, it can be that bad." You sighed and tried to pull away from her. 

"You have to PROMISE Me that you won't freak out?"

Annoyed, you sighed and smiled "I promise." "Okay.." she released your hand. You rubbed your wrist and looked at the small tattoo, "A Hook?" "Not just any hook... Penny told me about this." "This is the same hook as the famous Captain Hook himself! It must be his son!"

"Captain? So my soulmate is a Pirate? Like Dad and Mom?" Melody nods almost worried.

"Awesome."

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

"It's late Harry, your sister is gonna kill us if we get caught and wake your dad." Gill rubbed his eyes as he walked towards the galley of the ship.

"I know, but this is where the best lighting is...in a few minutes, I'll get me soulmate...well uh, tattoo I mean." He whispered and unlocked the door, cursing at the squeaky floors.

Harry turned on the lamp nestled on his father's desk. The room lit up illuminating the maps that his father and oldest sister had drawn up while sailing the open seas. He dreamed of nothing more than doing that, sailing and hailing a crew of his own, but for now, he follows Uma’s orders. 

“One more minute Harry.” Gill whispered looking at the tickless clock on the desk.

“Aye, ow! fff-!” Harry cupped his hand and flipped it to see his wrist, he bit back the pain as he saw the black ink form on his wrist. He’d been confused and tried to make it out as it formed. “Bloody hell, this sure is detailed in’it?” Gill loomed over Harry's shoulder, wondering what it was himself, Gill was sure he wasn't ready for his soulmate yet if he had to endure this much pain. 

Harry closed his eyes and exhaled as the pain stopped.

He opened his eyes to see the grim Aztec Coin staring back at him.

“Holy shi-” “Gil do you know what this means?!” “She’s spooky?” “No GIl, you git, She’s a pirate! and she’s a Turner...” He says in awe as he smiles down at his wrist.

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

A few months later both of you seemed to forget. The events of your daily lives getting in the way. You’re training to go off on a sailing trip with your dad for a few months, and Harry is… currently Helping Uma get revenge on Mal by kidnapping Ben. 

But.. you were unaware of this. Obviously. 

Lonnie and you were fencing/sword fighting in the school’s courtyard (for fun) when you saw the boys rushing into the limo. You both caught up to them and questioned them immediately. 

“What’s going on here Jay?” Lonnie snickered full well knowing what’s happening because she overheard it earlier passing their room. “We.. uh..” “we’re going with you..” Lonnie cut the pair off. And this is how you went to the Isle of the Lost for the first time. 

They had told you the plan but left out the part about who they were going to have to deal with if the plan went south. You were nowhere near nervous. All those times you’d trained with Lonnie and your parents at the shop basically were all for this moment. Your pirate self was ready. 

Mal handed over the wand and you cringed a bit. “She’s gonna know it's fake…” you turned to Lonnie and whispered. “Shh I know, get ready..”  you prepped your sword and placed one hand on your lapel while the other was free to toss the swords. 

That’s when everything went south. You and Lonnie sprung into action and helped the others. The sounds of metal clashing mixed with the creaking of the ship and the salty sea air made you happy, it filled you with adrenaline. It felt like you were at home.

2 people fighting you at once, then three, then none, one by one you tossed them overboard.

You were caught in the crossfire between Carlos and some other goons so you ducked under them and sprung onto your feet right into someone else's back. 

You both turned to each other, swords ready, you saw him and you felt that burning in your body. The one that your friends always said happened when you met your soulmate… “Ow!” “Oi!!” Harry lurched back and held his hand. And so did you. 

“You…” he pointed at you “are you…?” you held up your hand and showed your tattoo. He gasped and smiled “I knew I’d see you one day..”  you said in awe. You heard Uma yell for Harry and his smile faltered into a smirk.

“Sorry lass, no ‘ard feelings right?” “Obviously.” You struck your sword first and your swords clashed with each other. “I knew you were good Turner, but not this good.” he laughed as you both turned a corner of the ship. “Thanks! Maybe I can teach you sometime Hook, You seem a bit rusty!” “Oi! My ‘eart Lass.. that one hurt!” 

You snickered and he had caught you by a wood post “awe, our first dance is over now?” your eyes sparkled. He smirked ”Aye if this were different, i’d very much like to get to know you lassy…”  he got closer almost closing the gap in between you two. And his lips brushed yours before you heard Mal and Lonnie yell that it’s time to go. You smiled “sorry Luv, it’s time for me to go!” you kiss his cheek and push him away into a hole that’s in the ship. “Oi! That’s not fair!”

You were the last one to leave and thought of an idea, you caught up with them and helped Mal to kick off the ramp back to the car. “Find me!” You blew a kiss to Harry and smiled, and so did he. on the inside, of course, he had to be “mad” for Uma’s sake. But right now he was anything but. He just met his Soulmate and she was everything he dreamed of.

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

Almost a year had passed when you had first met Harry. And you constantly think about him every day and so does he. 

He sat at the bow of the ship looking out to the ocean thinking about you. It’s all that he’s been thinking about actually. He’s waiting for the day you can be with each other and in each other's arms. You literally took his breath away, because you kicked him, but he was entranced by your skills and beauty. He dreams about learning with you, meeting your folks, owning a ship, and most importantly.. Sailing away with you to see the world. He was stuck here. 

Though he didn't know that you had convinced Ben (it took a lot of convincing) to let Harry over onto the isle for a while. Your boating trip with your dad had gone so well that you also convinced your dad to let you go alone this time. Your parents knew how a forbidden love felt more than anyone else. The love between the two of them, a humble blacksmith that was the son of a pirate and the daughter of a wealthy governor who found that boy so long ago. They were never supposed to be together in society's standards, but their love was the strongest bond. They granted their blessing to you, they knew you'd be safe. You’re a strong pirate and they want to see you the happiest you can be.

You smiled and looked out the window of the limo as it crossed the bridge. Mal and Evie both came with you so they could help you find him and tell him the news. You guys slip onto the docks while Mal and Evie keep guard on the limo and watch you just in case you need back up. “Ursulas…” you smile and cross through the swinging doors, you found him and you felt the burning feeling in your body again. So did he. “OI!” he dropped the basket of chips he was holding and growled at the mess he made. He was fuming until he locked eyes with you. “My princess has come back to me?” he smiled and walked towards you completely forgetting about the fries as he kicked them to the side. “Hey Hook.” you smiled and felt his hand on your face but he backed away. “Woah Turner you ain't gonna kick me ‘gain right?” “no.” you laughed and you both hugged each other. 

He took the two of you outside “what are ye doin here luv? I mean, you don’ ‘ave to make any excuses to see me, but you came all the way from the other side.” he laughed and pushed back a strand of stray hair behind your ear. You blushed and held one of his hands, but unknowingly played with one of the rings on said hand. He bit his lip smiling at your nervousness. “U-Uhm.” you were surprised by the nerves in your voice, you were never this nervous before. This boy is going to wreck you. “It took major convincing, but I finally convinced my family and Ben to let you come to Auradon with me for a three-month sailing trip…” you smiled and looked at him. His eyes lit up and he lifted you off the ground and spun you around. “Are ye serious?! Of course I'd go with you!”  “Great! We leave…” you check your watch on your left arm. “ In 30 minutes!” “Aye! I need to pack!”  you laughed.

 he backed you into the wall. You smirked, “oi, I've been trying to do this ever since the first time we met.” He closed the gap between you two and the feeling of his soft pillowy lips on yours brought you comfort and warmness. You kissed back and ran your fingers through his dark locks as he tightened his grip around your waist. You never wanted this to end. “25 minutes!” You heard the girls yell and you pulled away and laughed. “I've finally found my Turner..” “And I’ve finally found my Hook..”

[billiewena]

for the 100k fic celebration, here a portion of the “what if 10x05 had a sastiel agenda?” AKA lil shit sam/jealous dean destiel fic I first shared a while back! been having a lot of fun basically rewriting and expanding on the entire musical episode with new songs (and lots of cute kristen & siobhan moments because OF COURSE they’re still a couple.) it was really encouraging to see the positive response to it back then and it's been taking forever because of work/other writing but I’m so excited to have this one be the first full-length fics I ever post.

It starts with costumed teenagers locked in a tight embrace with absolutely no room for Jesus.

“What are they doing?”

Marie glances over her shoulder for only a brief second.

“Kids these days call it hugging,” she says slowly. Geez, it would’ve been less insulting for her to just outright say Wow, you’re old.

Except it’s not just any of the show’s stars hugging over there. One of them is the “Dean” who’d been mid-rehearsal when they arrived and looked more like Bieber than him with the blonde wig. And the other? Well, he would recognize that Columbo coat anywhere.

“Is that in the show?” he asks, pointing their way.

Marie quickly shakes her head at the accusation. “Oh, no. Siobhan and Kristen are a couple in a real life.”

He nods and lower his hand. Got it. That’s all it was. Everything’s fine. Nothing to worry about—

“No, my play explores the nature of Sastiel.”

“The — wait, what?” he says, confused at once.

“Sastiel?” Marie pauses, giving him a second to figure it out. He doesn’t. “You know, the relationship between Sam and Castiel?”

Dean blinks.

“Sam and…C-Cas?”

“I know, I know. Edlund’s series never finished. I’m lucky I got these drafts. Ugh, it’s Midnight Sun all over again. But the love story is all in the subtext,” she says with confidence. “Can you believe there are people who still think Destiel is endgame? After everything that happened after the angels fell? After Gadreel? Please.”

He silently sounds out the word. Des-tiel? Wait…

“Ever since Cas came back from the dead and took on Sam’s pain, I knew. I just knew. Every one of their arcs had been parallel to each other’s from their fall from grace to the trials. And now with Dean gone, all they have…is each other.”

Marie sighs. “Besides, you can’t spell subtext without S-E-X.”

He coughs and nearly chokes on an asteroid-sized lump in his throat.

“I…uh. Yeah, th-that’s not…you know, I think I’ve seen enough,” Dean says with a forced smile. “Thank you for your, ah, time. I’ll, uh, we’ll follow up if we have questions about the missing persons case. I—alright.”

And with that he purses his lips, turns on his heel and walks away — nearly tripping over one of the stage chords as he does. Why are there are so many of them anyways? This is just some all-girls school production, not the goddamn West End.

He finds Sam in his natural nerd habitat (the tech booth) sifting through all the bins of A/V supplies.

“Yeah, not to interrupt the blast from the past here but it’s time for us to go,” he says, patting the door.

His brother shoots him an annoyed look but packs up and follows him out all the same. Not that Dean bothers to wait for him; no, he makes a beeline for the car as soon as he leaves the booth.

“Hey, what’s with the rush?” Sam calls after him as he runs to catch up with him at the school entrance.

“No rush,” he says shortly. “Just wanted to see what you found out before you got too lost in the nerd sauce over there.”

He doesn’t need to look back to know he’s on the receiving end of a Classic Sam Bitchface right now and continues to stomp his way through the parking lot.

“Well, no EMF, no hex bags. None of their props are remotely hinky. Talked to Maeve and all those extras in the auditorium.” Sam finally catches up and walks side-by-side with him now. “You have any more luck?”

“Nah. Ms. Chandler's office is just a pile of empty bottles and regret. She's probably just face down in a bar somewhere. Or a ditch. I did get to hear all about the director’s, ah, creative vision though,” Dean says, teeth gritted. “Apparently we go into space, I become a woman, and there’s even ninjas and robots!”

“Robots. Huh. Well, that’d definitely be a new one.”

“There’s no robots in Supernatural—”

“I-I know that,” Sam says in exasperation. “I just mean it’s, y’know, innovative. And Dean we’ve fought weirder. Remember the teddy bear? The fairies? The ballet shoes?”

“Well, you just wait until you hear about what she in store for you, Lover Boy,” he says.

And that makes Sam do an instant double-take.

“Uh, Lover Boy?”

“Yeah, your number one fan back there —” he says, gesturing back towards the school, “— was telling me all about the play’s, uh, love story between you and Cas. You got something you’ve been meaning to tell me or what?”

“The love story? Wait, what do you mean me and Cas?”

Dean scoffs, already in utter disbelief of the words he was about to say. “Like you and Cas, together. Together together? Romance of the ages the way she made it sound. Apparently it’s all in her play!”

To his surprise though, Sam just… laughs. “Well, I mean hey, that’s an improvement from the ones who wrote about me and you.”

“You got that right,” he agrees with a shudder. Meeting one Becky the Stalker was bad enough. Knowing she wasn’t alone and that she had an audience made it even worse. “She even had a portmanteau for you, dude. Like you’re some celebrities in a grocery store tabloid. Sass-tiel.”

“Sass-tiel?” He seems to seriously consider it but shrugs. “I don’t know. What about… Samstiel? CasSam? Cam? Mmm, maybe not that…”

Dean groans. “Really? That’s your issue with this?”

“Of course it’s not my issue,” Sam says. He stays pensive for a few more seconds until chuckling again to himself this time, as if he’s the only one in on a private joke. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, Cas is great but…”

“Not your type?”

“Yeah, sure,” Sam says. No, it’s definitely more than that and he’s doing a piss-poor job of hiding his amused expression.

Dean turns and stares him down. “What?”

“I dunno,” he says, his smirk fully visible now. “I just think it’s funny they’re pairing me up with Cas when the one with the ‘profound bond’ with him is right there.”

“Oh, haha. You’re hilarious,” Dean retorts at once.

“Hey man, I’m not the one who stayed in Purgatory for a year to find him.”

His glare takes on a murderous edge.

“Okay. You know what? You’re going to do that thing where you just shut the hell up! Forever!”

Sam holds up his hands in either what’s either a show of innocence or surrender.

“Alright, alright. Well, other than the Charlie Kaufman of it all I got nothing.”

“So…what?” Dean says. “This-this all... This whole musical thing, everything, it's... it's all a coincidence? There is no case?”

“Unless you're seeing something I'm not, no, Dean. There's no case here,” he says sincerely this time.

“Come on. This has classic Trickster vibes all over it.” He almost wants to turn around and start yelling, Come on out Gabriel you bastard!

“Trickster’s dead, man. And he wasn’t just a trickster, he was an archangel. And they’re all gone too.”

“Could be a lower-rank angel?” Dean tries. “I mean, Zachariah pulled off an entire apocalypse world. And that place where we were both corporate drones. Before you know it, this’ll get all Buffy and it’ll be me and you singin’ and dancin’—“

“Dean…I think it’s just fans. Look, as long as they’re not putting another love spell on one of us I couldn’t really care less what they’re doing,” Sam says with some bitterness, clearly not looking back at that particular memory with any fondness. “Just writing some songs? I mean, it’s innocent enough.”

“Oh yeah, so innocent,” he scoffs. “They’re singing about our dead parents, your demon blood bender, the apocalypse, all of it! This is just…it’s make-believe for them! But it’s our lives!”

Sam runs a tired hand through his hair. “Look, I don’t get it either man. I wasn’t exactly thinking about the books’ entertainment value while Chuck was describing my sex life in vivid detail—“

“Don’t remind me,” he says, holding up a hand in disgust.  

“—but I dunno. There’s obviously something about it they connected to, right? Something they related to, something that moved them, inspired them? And I guess…I mean, what’s wrong with that?”

There is so, so much wrong with that.

“I don’t know what story they’re reading and what Sam and Dean they’re ‘connecting’ to here. But it sure as hell ain’t us. I mean…they even made me blonde, dude.”

“It’s a high school play, what can you expect?” Sam laughs. “It was probably the closest wig they could find at Party City.”

Dean ignores him, muttering aloud as he makes his way to the driver’s seat.

“The hair…the singing…the robots… the love story…”

“You really were bothered by that, weren’t you?” Sam gives his brother a curious look.

“SUPERNATURAL ISN’T A ROMANCE!” Dean snaps. “Look, these girls obviously don’t know what they’re talking about—“

“I dunno, Dean,” Sam said in a clearly taunting voice now. “Maybe you’re just jealous of what me and Cas have.”

He flushes. “W-what? I-I’m not—“

“We could give you two a name too, y’know? So you don’t feel left out? What about…Dee-stiel? CasDean?”

And he refuses to entertain this conversation any longer.

“Shut your face! Get in the car!”

Thankfully Sam notices the shift in tone and obliges at once.

Dean, meanwhile, takes a moment outside the car to glance around — almost as if checking to see if anyone overheard that comment. Not that it mattered. Who could overhear? No one even knew they were THE Sam and THE Dean. Who cared? He certainly didn’t care. He didn’t care at all...

(to be continued)

[oikawaplssteponme]

PART 3 | previously: part 2 | masterlist

pairing: Katsuki Bakugou x fem! reader

ratings/warnings: swearing, fighting

synopsis: When UA’s hot heads, Katsuki Bakugou and you, are forced to put your hatred for each other aside and plan the third year Prom, things end up getting a little heated...

a/n: hello friends, i hope you all are doing well<3 taglist is open so just lmk if you’d like to be added :)) enjoy xx

•

three: sorry

You sat through the rest of class, watching your classmates battle each other. You wrapped up the cut on your arm and you were good to go. When the school day was finally finished, you headed back to your dorm and changed out of your uniform and into something more comfortable. You began to head down to the basement when you came across Todoroki.

“Hey Shoto, sorry about that,” you said nervously, pointing to the bandaid on his cheek.

“Don’t worry about it. You put up a good fight and looks like I got you too ,” he replied.

“Barely. You better beat me next time,” you smiled. He nodded.

“Don’t worry, I will.” You and Shoto parted your ways and you went down to the basement. The door was propped open. Bakugou was flipping through the folder that Aizawa had given you both.

“Hey…” you said. He didn’t look at you.

“So uh, how should we split up the work?” You asked. He still ignored you. Getting annoyed at this point, you snatched the folder from him.

“HEY-“

“Listen, you were the one who said you wanted to split up the work for this fucking dance so we have to talk in order to have that happen. What’s going on? You seem more pissed off than usual,” you complained. Bakugou looked at you, gritting his teeth.

“I’m fine dumbass. Just tired,” he mumbled.

“Sure you are.” You grabbed a stool and sat next to Bakugou. He rolled his eyes.

“Well damn you don’t need to be that close to me,” he said. You sighed, losing your patience.

“Bakugou, we both need to take a look at the papers. If I could I would be on the other side of the world to stay away from you.”

“Whatever.”

You looked down at the list of everything that needed to get done.

“Okay so for starters we should order the stuff that will take longer to get here. That would probably be decorations and stuff like that,” you said.

“We’d need to pick a theme before we order decorations,” replied Bakugou.

“Oh true. Okay um, any ideas?” You asked. Bakugou got up, walked over to a box, and pulled out 3 magazines. He sat back down.

“The theme packs that are crossed out are ones that have already been used. The themes circled are the ones within our budget. And the ones with check marks are the themes that we could get but we would have to cut back on other stuff to pay for it,” explained Bakugou. Your eyes widened.

“Did you organize this?”

“Yeah. I did it after class.”

“Woah…”

“ITS NOT A BIG DEAL I JUST WANT TO MAKE SURE WE DONT MAKE FOOLS OF OURSLEVES PLANING THIS DUMB DANCE!”

“Okay okay. I just didn’t think you cared.”

“I can not care and still want to do it right. Remember if we do a shit job Aizawa’s gonna fail us or something.”

I forgot about that part.

“Okay well which of them do you like best?” You asked. Bakugou opened up the second catalog and turned a few pages. He pointed to a theme.

“This ones okay...I guess,” he whispered. You peered over at the theme, a smile creeping onto your face.

“I like that one too,” you said. Bakugou looked at you.

“Really?”

“Yeah, and its within our budget, so I think it’s a good choice.”

Bakugou cleared his throat.

“Cool um, I’ll grab a laptop so we can place the order.” Bakugou got up abruptly and walked upstairs.

Is he always in a hurry?

~

As you waited for Bakugou to get back, you began compiling a list of the work you would need to do. You decided to take more of the creative lead and began putting together a design for the tickets. You wanted it to match the theme that you and Bakugou had chosen.

“You can draw?” said Bakugou, peaking over your shoulder. You jumped.

“Jesus shithead you can’t just scare me like that,” you said, hitting his arm. Bakugou rolled his eyes.

“I thought you were only good at one thing,” he muttered. You turned to look at him.

“And what might that one thing be?”

“Combat.”

“So you admit I’m a good fighter.” Bakugou got flustered.

“NO I'M JUST SAYING YOU DON'T TOTALLY SUCK ASS,” he replied, “I’m still better though.”

“Well I hate to break it to you Bakugou but I’m a girl of many talents. So yes I can draw. Can’t you cook or something?”

Bakugou’s eyes widened.

“How’d you know that?”

“I remember from the training camp. You helped cook almost every meal,” you explained.

“Can we not talk about the camp,” he whispered. Your chest got heavy.

“Shit um I’m sorry I didn’t mean to-”

“It’s fine just drop it,” he said firmly. You nodded.

“Um, did you place the order?” You asked quietly.

“What does it look like I’m doing,” huffed Bakugou.

“Yeah sorry.”

“Why do you apologize so damn much?”

“I-I uh, sorry, wait no-” you stuttered out. Bakugou continued typing.

“You should save sorry’s for when they actually matter,” he muttered. You tilted your head.

“So they don’t always matter?”

“Well if you say the word so damn much it just becomes another useless word. Then when you actually mean it, it’s pointless,” he explained. You never really thought about it like that.

“I guess you’re right. Then I’m totally not sorry,” you joked. Bakugou let out a small chuckle.

“Okay nerd, keep drawing your stupid ticket.”

“ITS NOT STUPID!”

~

You and Bakugou worked in silence for the rest of the time you spent in the basement. You checked the time.

“We’ve been down here for like 2 hours. I feel like that’s enough for today,” you said. Bakugou looked up from his laptop.

“Uh yeah. Just let me place this last order,” he said. You nodded and began to pack up your stuff.

“Do you have the keys?” You asked. Bakugou nodded and fished the keys out of his pocket. Bakugou grabbed his things.

“Let’s go dumbass,” he said. You sighed and trailed behind him as you walked up the stairs.

The two of you went back to the dorms and saw your friends socializing in the common area.

“There you two are! We lost you after class,” said Mina, waving the two of you over.

“Yeah well party planning awaits. It’s a lot of work for just two people,” you explained, taking a seat.

“Damn right it is,” mumbled Bakugou.

“How’s the planning going?” asked Kirishima. You looked at Bakugou and smiled.

“Bakugou is having so much fun planning. He even picked the theme for the dance,” you said.

“SHUT UP-”

“Wait what’s the theme?” asked Mina excitedly.

“It’s a surprise,” you insisted.

“Just to clarify, Y/N is just shit at planning so I’m having to do more work,” chimed in Bakugou.

“I KNOW YOU DIDNT JUST-” You stood up but before you could go over to him, Iida had grabbed your arm, stopping you from going any farther. You huffed.

“Anyway, how’s your side Deku?” You asked. Deku had a bandage around his stomach, most likely from your doing earlier during training.

“Oh I’m all good! Recovery Girl definitely knows what she’s doing,” he smiled nervously.

“Yeah well I’m sor-, I mean uh, I hope you feel better anyway,” you replied, “you got me pretty good too Deku, so I guess we’re even,” you joked. You lifted up part of your shirt to show the bruise that Izuku had given you from his punch from earlier.

“OH MY GOSH Y/N I‘M SO SORRY!” panicked Izuku. You laughed.

“Don’t worry about it. Makes me look like a total badass,” you smiled.

“Sure it does,” mumbled Bakugou. You gave him the side eye.

“What the hell is your problem today?” You asked, crossing your arms. Bakugou stayed silent.

“God you are such a piece of shit,” you huffed. Bakugou stood up and walked over to you. He gripped the collar of your shirt, pulling you towards him.

“SHUT UP YOU IDIOT!”

Your blood began to boil. You kicked Bakugou in the stomach to get him to let go but his grip was so tight on you that he ripped the collar of your shirt, causing the two of you to fall to the ground. You pinned his hands down.

“TELL ME TO SHUT UP ONE MORE DAMN TIME KATSUKI! I FUCKING DARE YOU!”

“Stop this at once!” ordered Iida but neither of you listened. Bakugou flipped you onto your back, almost knocking the wind out of you. He then pinned you down as well. Bakugou leaned in to look you dead in the eyes.

“Shut. Up.”

That was it. That was all you needed to be pushed over the edge. You were pissed. Words couldn’t describe your hatred for Katsuki Bakugou.

“THAT'S IT!” Before you even realized it, you were already generating a small bond to hit Bakugou with.

“Y/N NO!” yelled Deku. Just as you were about to throw it at him, Kirishima had grabbed Bakugou off of you and Deku had pulled you towards him.

“BOTH OF YOU! THIS HAS TO STOP!” Shouted Iida. Your breath was heavy as you looked at Bakugou. Kirishima had let go of him but Deku still had his grip on you.

“LET ME AT HIM! I AM SO SICK OF YOU KATSUKI!” You yelled, beginning to struggle from Deku’s arms.

“Fuck off princess. I’m going to bed,” said Bakugou, turning around and leaving.

“YOU OWE ME A NEW DAMN SHIRT!” You shouted at him but he didn’t turn to look at you.

“And here I thought the two of you were finally getting along…” mumbled Iida.

I thought so too.

•

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