#it happens with projects and with shows and with books and with cleaning too sometimes

[keeps-ache]

honestly.

[coquettepascal]

purpose on earth

summary: joel loves to take, you love to give.

tags: 18+, smut, angst(ish), jackson era!joel, cold!joel, grumpy!joel, innocent!reader, dom!joel, implied age gap (reader doesn't remember pre-outbreak), corruption kink, joel takes your undies, humiliation, oral sex (m!receiving), allusion to thigh riding, a feeling of helpless/hopeless-ness permeates this fic, reader is pretty pathetic, use of "sweet girl", objectification of reader, unrequited obsession, this fic isn't necessarily sexy, just mildly sad.

a/n: i literally wrote this like an hour ago while i was supposed to be outlining my next project, but @hellishjoel told me to listen to my creative demons... so now this is being posted.

(1.1k, just a baby)

Nothing in this world has ever, or will ever, belong to you. Faint memories glaze your mind sometimes, when you lay down to rest. Not your own memories, but things you’ve read in books and seen in abandoned family photo albums. White wedding dresses, cars that drive, Sunday night family dinner. An American lifestyle that was sucked away with the cordyceps, something only they could clear out. The bombs the government used, the ones you can’t remember anymore, they never wiped mother earth clean the way she has done for herself.

She’s infected, and not yours. Nothing outside of Jackson’s walls belongs to your human hands.

You’ve never known ownership. The clothes you wear belonged to people before you, the ground you walk on cannot be sold. Maybe in another life this would feel fulfilling, but something in you wants to know what it is to own, or even fit in. Your skin, flushed and healthy, skin full of life and blood and organs. A heart that thumps in a world of disease, disorder, death. What a weird purity you hold, something you want to ruin. 

A person like you isn’t meant to own anything here. It feels like you have to belong, if you wish to take.

He will do it for you. 

Joel knows greed, remembers the world before. His hands have taken food, land, lives, anything you can imagine. It isn’t something you realistically think about, more infatuated with how he has the ability to do all these things. Not that you hadn’t committed your own sins, but to defend yourself isn’t wrong, at least that’s what he says. Something in Joel smolders the way only a primal fire can, he is from a world whose memory of a flame will extinguish soon.

He doesn’t help with any of your wants, your need to own or belong. But Joel shows you what it is to take.

You don’t understand the fascination he has with you. The memory of the night he first led you back to his house is blurry, a fleeting moment in comparison to what has happened since. There was conversation of music, of you having a tape you wish you could play. 

His hands were slow when they slid your underwear down your legs, you hoped he wasn’t looking. Nothing about you felt sexy or womanly, you felt dwarfed when he was so close. Again, you wished you could belong, so maybe you could hide. There was a stain in the gusset and you remember how he pulled the garment off your ankles when it dangled there.

“Lemme see,” he had demanded, “lemme see what I did t’you.”

Joel had smeared his thumb through the sticky wet mark, huffing in surprise. He knew it was for him, knew there was nothing else that could have made you do that. Humiliated, you had tried to yank back your underwear, but he refused.

“S’mine now,” he laughed, cheeks rosy.

That was the first time Joel took from you. 

Now you seek him, the ache for belonging in the world twisting to a yearning for him to take from you. If you could not belong to this world, if you could not fit, at least you could fulfill him. Joel doesn’t like it when you seek him out too often, hates when others notice it. You’re not his, never his, just a moment of gratification for his consuming greed. 

Once, you waited in the early morning at the stables for him. Crouched near the barn door, you waited and watched the dewy grass grow. The crunch of his boots, the yawn he let out as he passed by you, it was enough. He said nothing to you, took off on his horse with some other man trailing behind him. 

“Joel’s so responsible,” you thought to yourself, “he’ll need me later I bet.”

Of course, he did. You relished in the small victory of him stealing from you again. Purity leaks from you in the form of drool on your chin, when he pulls you off his cock. Joel’s thumbs push the spit back in your mouth and you suck it down willingly. Praise rumbles off his tongue and into your ears, a southern rhythm you find sanctuary in. Pushing his dick back into your mouth is all pleasure to him, but it’s a taste of greed for you. 

“Sweet girl, that’s a good mouth f’me, ain’t it?” Joel asks, head tilting back.

He never takes his pants off, but he strips you naked. His eyes arguably take more than his hands ever will. The bob of his Adam's apple hypnotizes your eyes as you garble a response to his question. Scarcely do you make sense around Joel, or even speak. You don’t think you can remember the last time you held a proper conversation with him, he usually just waits for you to come around.

It all starts the same, standing on his porch and waiting until he opens the door.

“Missin’ me?” He asks every time.

Joel doesn’t miss you, he doesn’t need you. He just likes how much you give. But you miss him, as soon as he pushes you out into the cold again you miss him. His greed is your purpose.

And so with your purpose, you push yourself down to the base of him. The waterline of your eyes is welling up fast, distorting your vision of him. You blink up at him like he’ll look down, like you’re more than a mouth. You aren’t, not to him, but you get to admire him like this. The puff of his chest, the swell of his throat, and his hands when they come to rip you off him.

He never pulls your hair, just grasps your face in his worn-down palms and pushes you away before jerking himself onto your naked body. 

“S’nice, you’re so nice t’me,” he grumbles. 

Under the yellow light in Joel’s living room, you feel useful. You’re doing more than surviving in this world. You have a purpose, even if he seldom needs you. He uses the sleeves of his flannel to wipe away the tears that slide down your cheeks, still mumbling about how sweet you are. Naked, smattered in him, you smile. Glittery eyes meet his and he snorts. 

“You were missin’ me, huh?” He teases. 

Joel rubs his thumb across your cheek again, the closest thing you’ll get to his lips on you. In his post-orgasmic haze, he almost looks fond. 

“He almost likes me,” your mind whispers, your stomach fluttering, “it’s almost like I belong.”

And once you’ve nodded in response to his question, messy mouthed and gazing at him, your purpose, he taps his thigh. Blood rushes to your head as you stand, crawling onto him. 

In your obedient mind, you define your efforts for Joel as a purpose, but you think you can taste a hint of belonging each time he spreads your legs. 

[little-ones-time]

Aizawa cg headcannons with baby/toddler little because he's tired dad-core

[This might seem ooc, I'm honestly projecting on him]

⚠️Warning for detailed talk about food sence that can be a sensitive subject to some and warning for detailed talk about diapers, pull-ups, accidents, etc. Everything is sfw and I'll put a little warning emoji before and after the paragraphs with that stuff.⚠️

��� Carrying. He carries his little around often. Whether they're sleeping or awake, if they ask to be carried then they're getting carried. Sometimes he'll use his capture device as a form of sling or carrier if he's got his hands full. • Coloring. He'll glady sit on the floor with his little and watch them draw and scribble for hours if it makes them happy. He's buying the jumbo pack of non toxic crayons and the washable markers. Hes getting he big coloring books with easy pictures and thick lines.

⚠️Detailed talk about food below in case that makes you uncomfy, ends after second barrier ⚠️——————————————————————

• Food. He likes making sure his little is eating enough even if they're sleepy and making sure they have what they need to feel comfortable. Food can be a delicate thing and doing his best to make sure his little doesn't accosiate it with bad things is important to him. He's more than ok with feeding them if they're too sleepy or small to do it themselves. If they want a bib then they get a bib. If they want kids plates then they're getting kids plates. If they want a sippy or bottle then he's making sure it has enough liquids fof them. If they need to be burped the he's burping them. He's giving them little snacks that are easy to munch on without thinking about it so they get enough food in their tummy. If his little wants to help him make food then he's finding a way for them to be included, whether that's as passing him ingredients or taste testing. If his little wants to do something like baking cookies then he's right there trying to figure out the recipe, even if it gets a little messy. ——————————————————————

• Playtime. He makes sure his little gets to have playtime regardless of their energy level or age. One day playtime could be blocks and duplo, and the next simply shaking a rattle or using sensory toys. He's fine with both. He's there making sure his little doesn't lose something, hurt themselves, or stick anything in their mouth that they shouldn't. If they wanna build a fort then he's there making sure it all goes to plan. He's playing peekaboo with them. If they want to play make belive then he's going along. If they wanna build a tower then he's helping them make it the tallest one they can.

• Movies and Shows. He doesn't like just putting the TV on to get hid littles attention, but he doesn't mind sitting down with them to watch a few episodes of one of their shows, or snuggling with them on the couch and watching a movie before it gets too late.

• Crying and Tantrums. He knows his little one might struggle with big feelings, and thats fine by him. If they need to cry it out then he's there comforting them. If they're yelling and wailing then he's trying to figure out what's upsetting him so he can de-escalate the situation. If his little one throws their toys then he'll help them clean up one they're feeling better. He's right there to comfort them, hugging them, rocking them, bouncing them, etc. He's right there to try to help them feel better. He doesn't like punishments, period. The most he does is light timeouts and thats only if his little one got upset enough to do something like hit him or break rules that could've gotten them hurt. And once it's over he's sitting with them and talking about what happened. Letting them know that he's not angry with them or mad, and that everyone gets big feelings. He's hugging them and cradling them after and trying to find things to make them feel better.

• Pacifiers and Teethers. If his little wants something to suck on, or to sooth them, then he's making sure they have a paci. If they want a specific color or design then he's finding one with it for them. If his little one wants to bite and chew then he's finding them a teether. It can be chewlerly, it can be a hand held one, it could be in any color of the rainbow or all grey and he'd get it if they wanted it. If he finds that they have a habit of chewing/sucking fingers, or biting/sucking on their stuffies, or other random objects then he's doing his best to help find them a healthy and safe replacement. His little one is getting sleepy and fussy? He's offering the paci to them and gently popping it in their mouth if they want it. He finds them chewing on a a crayon or putting a toy in their mouth? Hes trying to convince them to use their teether instead so they don't hurt their teeth and mess up their stuff. He finds that they went and got one of them once their own? Hes scooping them up and praising them while letting them know that they could've asked him, but that he's so proud that they went and did it on their own.

⚠️Detailed talk about diapers, pull ups, and accidents below in case that makes you uncomfy, ends after second barrier ⚠️——————————————————————

• Potty training. If his little can use the restroom all by themselves then that's great and he's praising them. If they need extra help then he's being just as supportive too. Whether they need one just in case but don't want to use it, or if they just want one for comfort, or if they need/want on full time that they do use, he's right there to support them. He's not upset if his little one wants/needs pull-ups or diapers, and he's making sure that its being taken care of well. If they have an accident or a leek then he's comforting them the whole time and letting them know that its not their fault, and that things can be cleaned, and that they did nothing wrong. He's making sure he has a healthy stock of baby wipes and powder if needed, he doesn't want his little getting a rash or infection. He's looking up how to prevent leaking. He's making sure he has a changing mat and that he's got everything he needs. If they like ones with a silly print then he's getting the ones with the print. If they want blank ones then they're getting blank ones. If they're embarrassed about it, or about telling him that they need to be changed then he's right there and trying to make them feel better, and letting them know that it's ok to be embarrassed and that there's nothing bad about needing diapers or pull-ups. ——————————————————————

• Hygiene and Bathtime. Hes fine with his little getting a bit messy here and there, that'll happen even if he himself likes avoiding them. He knows a lot of people, himself included, can struggle with hygiene somtimes. If his little one is too tired, or sick, or tiny to handle hygiene then he's right there to help. If they can't get out of bed then he's right there trying to figure out other ways to help them feel a little cleaner, even if it's just changing clothes and using some dry shampoo. Or it it's just a little wipe down and him washing their hair in the sink. Or if he's just combing their hair and helping brushing their teeth. All the while praising them for letting him help make them feel a little cleaner.  If they're excited for showers, or baths, or even little things like brushing their teeth then he's right there encouraging them. Hes getting out bubble bath mix, rubber ducks, bath bombs, water toys, bath paints and crayons. If he can make getting clean a fun thing to look forward to then he'll do it. If that means using a fun smelling soap or shampoo then he's getting it. If that means fun colored toothpaste, toothbrushes, and toothbrush holders then he's asking what color his little one wants. If that means fun tasting mouthwash then he's asking them what flavor. If that means fun hair brushes and combs then he's figuring out which one they want most. He's getting fun soft towels they enjoy being wrapped up in. He wants them to think of hygiene as a good thing. And if his little doesn't want help with that, or his involvement? Then he's respecting that boundary. He's waiting for them when they're done with bathtime/shower time. He's asking them what soaps and supplies they want him to get for grocery shopping.

• Clothing. He likes making sure his little has things that they to wear. If they want soft pajamas with their favorite animals or characters on them then he's trying to find them while grocery shopping. He's keeping an eye out if he happens to see a certain night gown, or pajama set that he thinks they'd like. Or if he sees a pair of overalls that he knows they'd love to play outside in, or a soft warm hoodie. He keeps an eye put for the things he knows they like.

• Bedtime and Napping. Aizawa loves sleep, even if he gets very little of it. That means that if its bedtime, then he's making sure his little is all ready for bed. He's making sure they have everything. A sippy or bottle with milk or water, comfy pajamas, a stuffed animal, their paci if wanted, and a bedtime story. He's tucking them into bed, even though if they ask to go to sleep with him then he won't be able to say no. If they want to cuddle or snuggle then he's right there and holding them close. He'll gladly rock them to sleep over and over again. Hes letting them crawl into and fall asleep against him in his sleeping bag, and you better belive he's getting them their own little sleeping bag if they want one. If he notices his little one getting extra fussy and noticeably tired then he's easily scooping them up and plopping down next to them in bed so they can both get a much needed nap.

• Nicknames. He wasn't really sure what to call them, other than their name, when they were regressed. But he had ended up settling on "little one". He hadn't been expecting to also get a "nickname". But sure enough, he feels his heart flutter when his little called him a name like 'Daddy', or 'Papa', or 'Dad', or 'Dada', or 'Zawa', the list goes on. He felt like scooping up his little one and protecting them forever when he first heard the names. He loves being their cg.

——————————————————————

Thanks for reading!

[starrypawz]

I'm aware I'm not the only person to do this but here's a post that was just meant to be me tracking up the description of Gerry's hair to see what is actually going on on that front but this also turned into a few other things that are quite interesting to think about. And I started

I will put this under a cut as it's long, also spoilers

So we first meet Gerry in 004

And he's described as having 'artificially black' hair and he's unshaven, this statement is set in Winter 2012 and is from the period where Mary is haunting Gerry post her death, this also occurs after the events of 012 as the incident in 012 is dated as happening on December 23rd 2011

Then in 012

Yet again, dyed hair, this time he's clean shaven which implies either Gerry tends to shave or he probably at least shaved for the sake of blending in for this incident

(This is also when Gerry had all his tattoos)

, this is also in 2011 and it's when Mary is still around but I'm not sure if she like actually somehow appeared at the hospital since it's never really said like how far Mary could like project herself as a ghost but either way somehow they signed him off to her.

Also to note from 012

Gerry has an expired passport with him, he's traveled a lot this lines up with what Gerry himself says in 111 that he and Mary traveled a lot (Also I personally feel he likely had a feeling he wasn't coming back from this and had that on him for... reasons)

Then in 035 we encounter teenage Gerry in 2002

He's described as thin, his hair is apparently obviously dyed, it's also described as 'greasy'

Also to note, this is where the statement giver implies Gerry is somehow stronger than he looks

Gerry then shows up in 048

He's described as scrawny here, and also described as having 'long black hair' this episode is set in September 2009 which would likely be about a year after Mary's death which is said to have happened in 2008 and in 111 Gerry does say the following

Also in 004 it's stated that Gerry seemingly disappeared after being acquitted

Also apparently someone moved into Pinhole Books in 2014

Also to note 062 where Mary talks to Gertrude and gives her Eric's page is set on the 3rd July 2008 meaning that Mary's death was somewhere after this point (I am going to assume likely not that long after this)

Mary speaks to Eric in 154 which is dated to the 21st July 2008 and also this is where Eric does ask her to track down Gerry and Gertrude has been aware of Gerry's existence for a good while by this point.

Also it's implied that Eric and Gertrude know what Mary was going to do

Another side note 080 is where we have Jurgen's encounter with Gerry which probably would've happened in 2014

And Gerry thinks this was in fact not Leitner

So now we come to 102

This statement was taken in June 2014 and is the source of the 'poorly dyed' description of Gerry's hair, this is the only time where the condition of his hair is really remarked upon other than in 035 where it's described as greasy (Which I personally feel was just as a result of Gerry being a teenager at a time as having greasy hair as a teenager happens to most people) so that was likely a one off moment.

Other references to Gerry's hair being dyed imply it's obviously dyed and an artificial looking black so I have another feeling that his hair looking the way it apparently does here is probably a one off since Gerry has been.... going through it to put it mildly.

And its stated that Gerry passes away a few months after this and in 111 Gerry states and since he says Mary haunted him for five years Gertrude seemingly was the one to seek Gerry out This was likely some point in 2013 (Going off what was calculated by people writing the tma wiki)

Allegedly The Catalogue was burned, or at least Mary's pages were Gertrude however seems to have The Catalogue in 2015 when she is arrested for tresspassing

Gerry was also unaware he was ill until it was too late

In 012 we find out Gerry's death was sometime in late 2015

And Jon finds the following out in 107

From what we have in 107 it's likely Gerry and Gertrude were heading to The Usher Foundation from Chicago but only got as far as Pittsburgh, this is where Gerry passes, Gertrude narrowly avoids arrest for being caught when binding Gerry to the Catalogue of the Trapped Dead and Gertrude travels back to England.

And then The Catalogue falls into Julia and Trevor's hands about a year late 109

(And yes can confirm the Greyhound route referenced by Jon does exist)

So that's the post

Things to Summarise

Gerry is apparently stronger than he looks, he is also canonically pale and thin/scrawny

He's described as having stubble in 004 but not 012 I have a feeling he tends to stay clean shaven but in 004 it's implied he looks like hes not slept for a few days (Likely due to Mary) 004 happened post 012

Gerry has an expired passport with him in 012 likely for identification reasons (I personally feel he had a feeling he might not be coming back)

Gerry was released into Mary's care after the events of 012 but it's not clear if Mary was physically there or not

His hair is obviously dyed, and always described as long. His hair is described as Greasy in 035 when he's a teenager, and Poorly Dyed in 102, 102 is set not long before Gerry died so I have a feeling that's probably part of the reason his hair is like that he's been going through it (tm)

Gertrude very likely knew about Gerry's existence pre 2008, she was asked to find him in July 2008 by Eric, She also spoke to Eric a few weeks after Mary approached her in July 2008 but didn't intervene until 2013

Mary's death was likely some point in Summer 2008, probably in July

Someone moved into Pinhole Books in 2014

Gerry also beat up Jurgen Leitner in 2014

Mary's pages were burned in 2013 but it seems The Catalogue was still usable since Gerry was put into it

Gertrude and Gerry most likely heading to The Usher Foundation before his death They'd been in Chicago and were traveling via Pittsburgh, which is as far as they got before Gerry died, Gertrude never did show up at The Usher Foundation.

Gerry died some point in late 2015, the Catalogue of the Trapped Dead was left behind and eventually vanished from the evidence locker and somehow ended up with Julia and Trevor just under a year later

[crystalflygeo]

tap. tap. tap.

the sound of pencil tapping onto sandbearer wood echoed rhythmically in the hotel room, along with the calming smell of a fragrant cup of tea.

tap. tap. tap.

hums, huffs, and a series of frustrated mumbles left the room occupant’s lips as her eyes flitted about the map of liyue, thinking, theorizing, hoping.

tap. tap. tap.

crys, crys, crys… where are you… i swear, if anyone harms you they’re getting a good few bullets to their—

the door opened, and a man entered the scene, cradling a mountain of books. meirin blinked and stared at him incredulously. ignoring her gaze, the scribe merely deposited his recent haul on the table she was writing on.

“uh—”

“i went to the ministry.”

“you what?!”

“i remembered you saying she works there. i must say, it was a little concerning how they just carelessly inferred my identity without checking further when i showed them my old identification as acting grand sage of sumeru and mentioned some high profile names.”

you’re such a gremlin sometimes. she snorted and raised her eyebrows, “so? what did you find in your little infiltration mission?”

“apparently, she went to inazuma a few weeks ago as a diplomat. she was scheduled to return a few days ago, but she has yet to enter liyue’s borders.”

“inazuma….”

meirin pondered their findings so far. should we go to the country of lightning? but the journey would take time, and what if we missed each other on the way?

“…. wait. don’t tell me you stole those books from-”

“of course not. that would be too much.”

meirin relaxed a little and sighed in relief.

“oh. okay. phew. good. we’re here to check up on a friend and for that pet project of yours, not to check out liyue’s jail…. hm? so then, what are those?” the woman gestured to the tower of books.

“these? just a few resources and reading materials i found on my detour into an antique store. they’re all written in ancient liyuean scripts, so they might prove useful later on.”

“…. you’re such a nerd.”

“given the mostly negative connotations of that word, i prefer the term ‘scholar’ much more,” al haitham said plainly, before tapping an old, beaten up journal on the top of the book mountain, “this one is especially interesting. it seems to be a diary, of sorts — of a devout follower of liyue’s illuminated beasts. the notes are subjective in nature, but it would be a good case study of how the common folk used the language. i didn’t have time to translate all of them, but they seem to be especially fond of an adeptus called ‘spring bringer’—”

“what?” she blinked, “give it to me.”

her eyes stared at the papers containing al haitham’s neat handwriting, the annotated translation slipped between the aged pages. there were blanks between some words, presumably there because he had no knowledge of what the word meant. plus, the olden papers and ink had deteriorated so much, some characters had been so smudged, they were impossible to make out.

____ magnificent golden antlers ____ shine like cor lapis(?) ____ deer-like illuminated beast____ lady ____ her real(?) name____ ███████

‘her real name’….. maybe if i call her with that, she’ll respond? but i have no knowledge of it, i don’t think….

“..... alright, let’s change target starting tomorrow, since we have no more leads about her.”

meirin glanced at her geo vision, which had been pulsing lightly with warm gold ever since she stepped into liyue.

let’s hope geo resonance works on geo dragons.

Crys stares at Liyue Harbor, getting more and more nervous by the second. The air is crisp and clean here at Guyun, her feet sinking on soft sand. People rarely come here and as such, nature and elemental leylines thrived.

She places a hand against one of the mountainous rock formations, closing her eyes and feeling the strong thrum of pure geo.

"How do you feel?"

"It's... strange. To feel so drawn to a place and still find it foreign. I know I'll be fine, eventually, its just..." She frowns. "It's strange how all of this happened"

Kazuha doesn't feel like he has the right words to reassure her, he just nods and stands by her side.

The breeze blows gently, bringing the scent of sea salt, the waves lap at the sand. Leaves rustle and animals scatter around. A lone crab, butterflies...

Kazuha looks around and spots a few boars uphill as well. Suddenly he chuckles softly. "What an auspicious combination."

"Hm?"

"I'd assume you're not familiar with Hanafuda cards?" He blurts out, when Crys shakes her head confused, he continues. "They're a set of playing cards depicting different plants, animals or objects. When I was younger I used to play a game with my elders called Koi-koi"

He smiles as if recalling an old memory, and picks a fallen tree branch.

"The objective is to form sets by pairing up certain cards together, and out of those one of the most well-known is the Ino-shika-cho combination."

He starts drawing lines on the sand, writing with the wooden stick.

"Ino (猪) represents the boar. Shika (鹿) is the deer, and Cho (蝶) the butterfly. Together, they make up a winning hand. Now, look around, we have the boars and the butterflies and that would make you the deer." He beams, clearly amused by his clever little tale.

Crys admittedly chuckles "So are you saying luck will come my way?"

"I'm sure of it." He finishes writing down.

The adeptus stares at the kanji on the sand and suddenly her expression changes,

"That character... it's familiar..." She mutters.

"Hm? Oh well it is the same hanzi for 'deer' I'm sure given your identity you have seen it quite enough."

"No no, not that one. The last one!" She points eagerly. "Kazuha I think... I'm sure that is part of my name, I can feel it."

He stares at her with wide eyes, and then back at the floor.

Huh...

@i23kazu ebg Jan 19-26

[rosalind-of-arden]

3 of those character questions :p any tgl character you like.

You know if you tell me to pick any character I'm picking Wolfe, right? Because I am predictable like that. Going with young trans Wolfe right now because he is in my head.

What is the character’s go-to drink order? Wine. Obviously. More specifically, young Wolfe intentionally reads up on wines so that he can order the ones that wine snobs say are the best. He, too, wants to be seen as a wine snob. (When he gets older, he continues to be a wine snob, but develops his own taste more and starts having very strong opinions on which ones other wine snobs are wrong about.)

If he's doing shots, vodka. Because of Nic.

He turns his nose up at cocktails because they "disguise the pure flavor of the liquor and therefore exist only to disguise inferior products" but secretly really likes sangria.

What is their grooming routine? He puts a lot of effort into his hair. He had it long in the Iron Tower but had it shaved in the orphanage. Nothing to do with gender - long hair is an Obscurist thing and the orphanage required shaved heads to prevent lice - but the experience confirmed that short hair does not make him feel more masculine. He missed it terribly and started growing it again as soon as he got to Ptolemy House. He is picky about shampoo, conditioner, and other hair products. He usually wears his hair either loose or in a ponytail, but will braid it or put it up for exercise and work. After Nic compliments him on how it looks in a bun, he starts doing that more.

He usually shaves his body hair; he's tried letting it grow both as gender experimentation and in an effort to give fewer fucks about Alexandrian grooming standards, but he still feels a little icky when he gets too hairy.

He is picky about soap but otherwise cannot be bothered with elaborate skincare routines. He has yet to work up the nerve to try makeup, though he likes the look of eyeliner.

Final step of getting ready, before he puts on his robe, is always checking his reflection to make sure his clothes look right and no curves are showing. He will completely strip to switch binders or add a packer if his silhouette doesn't look right. Sometimes multiple complete outfit changes happen.

Describe the place where they sleep. Wolfe lives in a one-room Lighthouse apartment with a big window, a small bathroom, and no kitchen (he usually eats in the dining hall). His bedding is the highest quality a gold-band Scholar's salary can buy. After the orphanage, he is never sleeping on an uncomfortable bed again. He must have his fluffy feather pillows and silk sheets. Dark colors for everything: he likes deep, moody blues and greens. Other furniture includes a small table with two chairs that came with the room, and a very nice desk with lots of shelves and drawers. Did he need a fancy desk for his room? No, he has an office. But he wanted it. It was the second thing he bought after his bedding. He is working on stocking the shelves with permanently loaded blanks of his favorite books, in fancy editions. His apartment is either a total disaster or meticulously clean, depending on where he is on his current research project and whether he's hoping to have Nic over.

[amaretto-mp4]

It’s already August - Just some thoughts, a quick update and my appreciation 💐

Gonna be adding the ‘read more’ feature on my longer posts from now on!

O.K, I stopped thinking about backs and shoulders and anguished redheads and how to effectively clean my piercing for a good 2 minutes to think that eventually I’ll finish watching the books and shows I’ve left off or have been meaning to get to but never do — this also goes for all the games I’ve stopped playing partway through like BOTW and Hades//

This is going to take… a while but it’s okay.

Also, to my art mutual who also spurred me on through all their wonderfully drawn mp100 art and comics (I see u) *shakes hand firmly*

The largest thing that stands in my way is my flip-flop attention span that affects anything I do, even things I enjoy or want to do badly, but I’m determined even with uni and my final year project coming up. I think we could achieve a lot of what we want to do if we make the time to do it. Mindfully, of course, and to our own needs and mental capacity.

Lately I’ve been embracing slow productivity when it comes to personal art, and it’s helped me. The initial anxious feelings subsided after a while too, which I’m grateful about. I wanted badly to step away from the instant gratification I used to chase back a few years ago; posting on Instagram sometimes daily for the sake of getting stuff out there, thinking that my mutuals will forget me, or from feeling insecure about my art skills and constant worry/ frustration about not growing an audience.

I shared things immediately, even when I knew I could refine it or correct mistakes if I had waited. Though I might take many days, even weeks to share something now, that payoff of knowing that the art I make this time is what I’m truly happy with! :’ to anyone struggling with the same thing, it’s really difficult to break the cycle, but I believe in you.

It’s wonderful to be in the moment, and it doesn’t just apply to creating art. Today I spent the whole afternoon drawing + putting down new comic panel ideas, which hasn’t happened in a while. ⛅️

Also, I just wanted to say a huge thank you to anyone that’s shown love on my art and supported me on this platform (and my other socials if you’re there too). I read the tags all the time and feel so touched, and grateful. Even if it’s just my staple OC works, and I take forever to share stuff, but it truly means so much if you follow my art journey and support the pace of which I work ♥️♥️ I’ll soon be sharing a few WIP crops of things I’ve been working on, if I can format it better on the web version.

[ozma914]

The Big Historical Finish, In Photographs

 At long last I can finally announce that we're finished with Haunted Noble County, Indiana!

I mean, of course, until I get edits back from the publisher. Emily finished her go-through, correcting all my small mistakes and showing me the big mistakes to correct. By the time you read this, our editor at The History Press will be shaking his head and muttering, "You had a whole year, and couldn't clean it up better than this?"

Well, I hope that's not what he's saying.

This is the longest it's ever taken me to write a book, with the exception of Smoky Days and Sleepless Nights. In both cases that includes long delays in which nothing got done at all. Not my fault! Mostly.

Then there were the pictures. We planned on about thirty, most taken by Emily and me; we turned in fifty.

Photography wasn't all that easy when John A. Harkless was doing it.

That's the tombstone of John A. Harkless, a photographer who should get his own credit in the book. For this book and for Images of America: Albion and Noble County, we depended on several local sources for historical photos. But most of the older photos, at least from the Albion area, originated with Harkless.

It wasn't unusual for us to find the same photo in more than one collection--sometimes from four or five sources. In that case, we credited the first place we found it. Often that was the Noble County Historical Society (which operates the Old Jail Museum), or the collections of Mike Mapes and Grace Leatherman, or the Stone's Trace Historical Society.

The funny thing is that Haunted Noble County, Indiana isn't an historical book, really. It's supposed to be about ghosts and haunted places, and that means places that are haunted today, doesn't it? But I love to research, and I love history. Whenever we encountered a local ghost story I couldn't help thinking: What events let to a spirit hanging around? How long have they been there? What was the place like when they were alive?

We found this photo of Albion's first car in three places, although first through the Noble County Historical Society.

Well, if you love researching, and you get a chance to research, what happens? That's right: rabbit hole. A lot of rabbit holes.

It's not the only thing that delayed the project, of course. I've mentioned before our visit from COVID, which overstayed its welcome. We got so delayed that when I finally saw the finish line, I realized I had to make a dash to reach it. Or, to put it another way, the deadline was approaching like Godzilla on a bender.

(Just to clarify, none of the photos in this blog are in the book--they're just examples of what great history people have preserved.)

So once again--I said the same thing in May--sorry to anyone I didn't reconnect with before it was too late. Also, thank you to those I did connect with, and there were many, and thank you again for all those history buffs who helped lead me down those various rabbit holes. Sometimes I ended up in areas that didn't add to this project, but that doesn't mean they weren't fun.

A spooky photo of Albion's first telephone operators.

And when will the results of our hard work be revealed to the world? Well ... I did mention that we missed deadlines, right? Our editor was very understanding, but the world of traditional publishing plods on like an old plow horse, and I wouldn't expect to see it before the spring of 2025--maybe later. I'll keep you updated.

Amazon:  https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B0058CL6OO

Barnes & Noble:  https://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/"Mark R Hunter"

Goodreads:  https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4898846.Mark_R_Hunter

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Remember: Every time you read a book, an ancestor smiles in their grave. Which is actually kind of scary.

[coreymichaelsmithson]

The Balance of A Year

Every December, I relish the chance to look back upon the course of the last year and reflect upon all that has happened, all that has changed, all that I've learned, all the ground I've lost and gained. 2023 offered me many moments of deep fulfillment and happiness, but it also brought along a number of profound struggles ... for it seems that in order to experience joy, one must also be willing to endure a commensurate amount of sorrow. The waveforms of life may arrive with extreme amplitudes or in seemingly relentless frequencies, sometimes bringing the crests and troughs of fortune too closely together for comfort.

Midnight at January 1st of 2023 found me standing in precisely the same place as I had stood at the previous New Year's Eve: making crap coffee for an AA meeting in a badly lit kitchen in Dickson, Tennessee. I was not yet a local, still visiting from Florida ... but a few days prior, on Christmas Day, my soulmate Daniel had invited me to come live with him, with a handwritten note that read, simply, "Welcome home." And thus, it became clear that my time in St. Augustine, wonderful as it was, would soon be drawing to a close. So I resolved to savor every last bit of it.

In earnest, I hurled myself into the final three months of my life as a Floridian. I walked each sunset along the beach of Anastasia Island, trying to soak up every detail, studying the textures of sand and surf as if I would never see either again. There, on the First Coast's splendid and dynamic shores, I witnessed three rocket launches, discovered a sunken sailboat, found a drowned raccoon, and tripped over a dead pelican that had been half-buried in a dune. I caught an electrifying performance of Stravinsky’s "Petruska" at the Jacksonville Symphony, gobbled up as much sushi and Indian food as I could afford, and barely slept. I continued my therapeutic use of psilocybin, taking threshold-level mushroom trips on the beach ... sometimes accompanied by a close friend, sometimes alone, often barefoot. I hung out with terrific pals, swam in the Atlantic, burned a bunch of old artworks, and painted my fingers to nubs. To offset some of my overdue rent, I pulled weeds, hauled mulch, sprayed fungicide on fruit trees, cleaned the pool, and sweated through a lot of yardwork.

Knowing that the all-you-can-eat buffet of casual hanky-panky I'd gorged myself on in Florida was bound to dry up in rural Tennessee, I nonetheless managed to have a few meaningful liaisons with various men. I enjoyed a very sweet encounter with a professional male model, whose jawdropping pulchritude was eclipsed by his inner kindness. I had a soothing late-night reunion with an itinerant Turkish healer, whose hands were still gentle and sure, and whose voice was a balm for the spirit.

In March, I finally wrapped up one of the most ambitious artistic projects of my entire career ... The [C] Paintings, a collection of one hundred 12"x12" oils, all executed using only Titanium White and Ivory Black. This series of metaphoric illustrations, which took four years to complete, pushed me further (stylistically, technically, and conceptually) than I had ever gone before as a painter. I sold signed prints of these works, and eventually published a hardcover book.

In addition, I finished four fine art commissions: “WARRIORS”, “CARDINALS”, “OWL”, “MICHIGAN SNOW”, and an abstract diptych, “FROST KING I & II”. I pushed the needle forward on "BIG TOP" and "JEWELS", two large and intricate canvases. I created a music video for Daniel's gorgeous charity single, “SOUL ON A CHAIN”, did some pre-viz on an upcoming animation, and had the great honor of being interviewed about my writing for a podcast.

I published my book of “COLLECTED POEMS” and the short story cycle "SOUVENIRS". I released the long-overdue paperback edition of my first novel, "YOUNG PIM AND THE GOBLINS". I brought the first draft of my fourth novel, "THE FABULOUS MEDICINE SHOW", to the 95% mark. I wrote five essays: "MESSAGE FROM AN INJURED BIRD", "SIMULATIONS OF TENNESSEE", "EDISON'S MEDICINE", "DEBUSSY IN THE BONEYARD", and "I GAVE MY HEART TO THE JUNKMAN", which was inserted as a sad but fitting coda in a new edition of "THE PAMELA DIARIES".

Productive as it was, my year was marred by a few heartrending losses. The most distressing of all happened in early January, when I had to say goodbye to my beloved soccer-mom minivan, Pamela. My poor old hooptie finally shat the mattress. We had shared 99,700 miles in the course of six years, driving through every conceivable landscape and weather condition, through tornadic thunderstorms and forest fires and mountain snows, through godawful jobs and traffic jams, through countless sunsets and twisting wilderness roads and ghost towns. If you hadn't followed any accounts of our many adventures, you simply wouldn't believe the things we had gone through. It boggles my mind, to recall all of our close calls and spiritual victories and hair-raising rides. Pamela framed some of the most beautiful and terrifying things I've ever seen with her windshield. I'll never have another friend quite like her again, and it still hurts every day to think about how much I miss her.

2023 claimed the lives of several other loved ones. One of my very favorite teachers, a vibrant woman who taught me more about the process of mark-making than any other artist, finally folded after a long decline. A handsome musical theater singer, on whom I harbored a bit of a crush, widowed his lovely husband after suffering from a late-onset neurodegenerative disease. An extraordinarily gifted sculptor and very generous instructor left behind a sprawling artistic and educational legacy.

But good things came along, too, as they always do. The most significant shift this year, of course, was that I left Florida and moved to the middle of Tennessee, so that I could be with my Daniel, that goofy tattooed carny with a heart of gold and the voice of a '50s crooner. I traded my sandy stretch of coastal paradise for McEwen, a hamlet of maybe 1700 people, a place with no stoplights but a dozen churches, two cemeteries, and a Dollar General. 

Getting here, however, would prove to be no mean feat. I had no money at the beginning of the year, no job ... and with the loss of Pamela, no transportation. My printer also died, right when I needed it most. Luckily, though, I managed to rake in a few grand by selling prints of The [C] Paintings, enough to get a new printer and fund my move. I was able to purchase another car, "Scout", from my housemate and his family, under an extremely generous contract on their part and with the help of my dad. I rented my first U-Haul, one outfitted with a vehicle towing rig, and I drove the 700-mile distance in a state of utter disbelief. Seven years ago, I didn't even know how to turn on a car. Now here I was, driving a moving van through the winding hills of Appalachia, towing my second car behind me.

Tennessee welcomed me with a major tornado outbreak on the day after my arrival, which seemed somewhat auspicious. Worse storms would follow.

2023 was a terrible year in terms of monetizing my time. Both of my primary client relationships ended abruptly, under somewhat mysterious circumstances, for no clear reason. Afterward, I could not find sufficient or sustainable work, no matter how hard I tried, and thus I spent the latter half of the year in the worst financial shape of my life, basically living at or below the poverty line for months on end. Being so broke meant that I missed yet another wedding, one that I had been looking forward to attending for months. I went without health insurance for most of the year. This marks the lowest income level I've ever recorded in my adult life, a shockingly meager amount that I cannot even bring myself to type here. On paper, at least, I've never been this poor ... and I've been pretty goddamned poor.

This led to one of the deepest depressions I've faced in a long while, a valley of extreme self-doubt, defeat, and demoralization. There were times in which the train tracks that bisect our town seemed to offer two equally grim solutions: hop a boxcar and escape my woes like an old-timey hobo, or just throw myself under the groaning wheels and be done with it.

But I stayed alive and kept hustling. I beat the shit out of my laptop's keyboard, as I grabbed whatever writing assignments I could get. I ghostwrote brand messaging for an open-source monitoring application, cleaned up the text for a book on gut biome health, laid out the paperback for a theologian's analysis of biblical systems, proofread a veteran's memoir, and performed a grinding edit on a client's sci-fi novel. I helped make some didactic signage for MoMA and other arts institutions, dipping my toe into AI imaging for the first time.

Tennessee brought some unexpected work my way. My first gig was for a good friend's home staging company, hauling furniture and décor into and out of listed real estate properties, making fake "homes" out of empty houses. The two of us camped it up while fluffing throw pillows and tossing plastic houseplants into a truck, and it came as a great relief to have another gay pal with whom I could be as swishy and fey and arch as I liked. I helped build a golf simulator, did construction site cleanup at two different apartment complexes, and packaged vehicle springs for a defense contractor. I learned two things during my brief stint in the military industrial sector: I have a pathological need to keep my workspaces in order, and the Pentagon is getting fleeced on plastic toilet seats.

I did an 11-hour photo assistant gig at the CMA Fest in Nashville, lugging gear for a boss nearly two decades younger than myself, and a 14-hour personal assistant gig for an NBC television series. During the latter assignment, I ferried passengers in an enormous yacht of an SUV through rush-hour traffic in downtown Nashville, some of the most nerve-wracking time I've ever spent behind a wheel. I busted my hump in a sooty warehouse for an ornamental door company, where I learned how to use a strapping tensioner to band crates. I also narrowly avoided being crushed by falling iron jambs. I shoveled sodden insulation and charred debris from the burnt ruins of a cabin on the grounds of a nineteenth-century grist mill, getting stung three times by wasps in the process. I hauled hundreds of furniture boxes into a ridiculously bougie preschool, while flirting with one of my coworkers. Unfortunately, the gruff little sexpot got in a fight with a fellow mover, and he fled the scene before I got the chance to seduce him in one of the empty coatrooms.

I also had a few abortive bromances with confused dudes. I canceled my dalliance with a smoking hot lifeguard when his misogyny reared its ugly head. I stepped away from two different bisexual guys I'd once lusted after, when it became clear that they themselves did not know what they really wanted from me.

I dropped out of a few friendships that had clearly passed their expiration dates. I had to leave behind a former coworker, a gal who I had once adored, when she proudly admitted that she was using online scams, credit card theft, and food stamp fraud to fund her way of life. Nope.

My phone headset crapped out. My computer monitor, shimmied by the vibrations from a passing freight train, toppled from my desktop, missing the head of our napping pit bull by inches.

In October, I flew up to Minneapolis, where a long-time collaborator and I completed our screenplay, “THE LAST BONANZA”. While there, I spent a week exploring one of the city's most beautiful and eclectic neighborhoods, happily tits-deep in orange leaves and Halloween décor, spellbound by Minnesota's autumnal glory. I discovered Tiny Tim’s crypt, toured a formal rose garden, and watched a pair of squirrels mate. I went to a boisterous backyard party, where I sat on a bench and comforted a bereaved mother who had recently lost her daughter. My friend and her spazzy but sweet little rescue dog did so much to soothe my soul ... so much laughter, so much barking, so much firmly-established trust.

Over a long weekend, I headed over to Memphis, where I met up with several of my oldest and dearest friends from my former life there. One of my soul sisters and I explored a muscle car museum in the Edge District, checked out the lobby of Sun Studios, and wandered over many of our old stomping grounds ... including my "field of ghosts", the empty lot where my home once stood, where I spent five years with my poor mad beautiful William, where he finally lost his struggle with addiction and mental illness and rotted away into the floorboards. The building itself burned down a few years ago, clearing away the last physical remnants of a very sad tale.

Happily, though, The Volunteer State balanced things by continuing to yield oddball delights. I checked out the Dickson County Fair, where I fed sheep, a cow, and an alpaca, watched my first teen beauty pageant, eyeballed some prize-winning pies, and stuffed my face with funnel cake while taking in the dirt-kicking splendor of a Jump n’ Run. I toured Nashville’s Parthenon, hand-fed a peacock named "Peter", petted several goats and pigs, held a chicken in my arms, encountered a camel in a church parking lot, took second place in a Spades tournament, befriended one of the NEA Four, and sat on the sidelines of a swim class for special needs kids. Scout and I drove up some scary-ass country roads, sometimes narrowly avoiding armadillos or deer, and crossed some of the prettiest scenery that Central Tennessee has to offer. I helped a buddy unload his moving truck of heavy shop tools, crates of ammo, and massive furniture. I mashed 15 pounds of potatoes for an AA potluck, and startled a committee of vultures lurking by the railroad tracks. I bounced around a bed with a fun pair of good ole boys, right across the street from a cemetery. On a starry autumn night, a bunch of cool folks and I gathered round a campfire on a friend's farm, where Daniel played the ukulele and our hostess thumped on her hammered steel handpan. It was a magical evening, blemished only by the dozens of fire ant bites Daniel suffered while sitting on the ground.

It's a simple life we lead here in McEwen. My sunset walks now take place in a boneyard, rather than a beach. Our town sheriff is a cordial hunk, and he always waves at us whenever he happens to drive by. Our house, which sits on pilings and sketchy cairns of brick, is crooked and drafty and crammed with sentimental bric-a-brac. This spring, Daniel and I strung up chandelier pendants in our windows, so we could see rainbows every afternoon.

From our front porch on Main Street we watched McEwen’s homecoming parade ... complete with marching band, pom squad, firetruck, and beribboned princesses throwing candy. Daniel told me that a few years ago he saw a plump little pre-teen go by on one of these floats, eating all the candy herself and tossing empty wrappers at the passerby.

Nobody says "bless her heart" like a Tennessean.

We share our home with four handicapped dogs: one blind, one deaf, one blind and deaf, and one neurotic. Our nightly routine is firmly established at this point ... we walk the mutts through the quiet streets of our town, playing Twenty Questions while they bark and tug and play Maypole with their leashes. It's our own wackadoodle Iditarod, and I wouldn't trade it for anything in the world. Afterwards, Daniel will cook us a scrumptious dinner (usually something with goat cheese, pork loin, sweet potatoes, couscous, and a shit-ton of cilantro) while I edit my manuscripts. Then we sit down on the recording studio sofa to watch reruns and eat out of mismatched bowls.

In January we celebrated Daniel's fourth year of sobriety, and in November I marked my eleventh. Much of the social life that we share is centered around the local recovery community. Honestly, I haven't missed booze one bit, and I do find myself getting a little bored by the topic of addiction. There really isn't a lot else for us to do here, it seems, besides attend these meetings. But that's okay ... it's been my privilege to befriend so many remarkable people, many of whom are rebuilding their lives after unimaginable cataclysms. There is a strong feeling of family among the sober, and I love our tribe. Our "heading to town" events these days are usually speaker talks or functions or festivals. We'll sometimes pop into to a rehab facility just to hang out with our buddies.

Daniel and I are planning to break our glut of AA holidays by spending this New Year Eve among friends, at a little get-together hosted by some lovely lady friends from our LGBTQ group. For the third time in my adult life, I'm thinking of making some potato salad for a holiday party. Lesbians still like potato salad, right? Strange as it may sound, this quotidian harbinger of middle age — hatching a plan to spring my best potato salad on partygoers — seems like the most joyous thing imaginable. It sounds absurd, I know ... but I actually choked up at the supermarket when I tossed a shaker of dill weed into my shopping cart. Sometimes being a grown-up is about acknowledging the plenitude represented by the smallest of acquisitions. For those of us who are constantly toeing the precipice of despair, even the task of selecting a kitchen spice is a luxury.

I am so lucky to be alive, unfathomably so. The more I think about it, the less probable it feels. I feel blessed ... blessed to be allowed to wave off another year marked by upheaval and goodbyes and emotional earthquakes, to push a cart through Walmart in a state of Zen mindfulness, to transform dullness into bliss by the alchemy of gratitude, to sanctify the gift of uneventful days, to value any hour devoid of catastrophe, to appreciate stillness, to savor the quiet country life, to share a sofa with one or more dogs, to curl against my sleeping boyfriend and murmur "I love you" into his neck, to have made it this far with limbs and eyes intact, to have exactly enough money left in my bank account to buy a tube of toothpaste, to see rainbows cast upon crooked walls, to cherish so many beautiful and brave friends, to give thanks, to survive another trip around the sun, to be here, to be here with you.

[lollytea]

How do I say, without coming across as a jaded miserable little bitch who likes raining on everybody's parade, that the PJO Disney plus adaption is nostalgia bait, in the same way that their live action remakes are

[jungwnies]

꒰ 🍮 ୭̥ ‧ ˎˊ- ・soobin's sfw alphabet

SYNOPSIS ! soobin’s safe for work a-z alphabet

PAIRING ! bf choi soobin x reader // GENRE ! fluff + angst if you squint // WC. ! 1.72k

AN. ! unreleased content ,, but i felt like releasing it because nothing is stopping me from wanting to showcase my work to the fandom 🥲

a ⤖ affection (how affectionate is he? how often does he show affection?)

┊︰soobin is so affectionate; he loves hugging you and telling you how much he loves you; his favorite thing is when you're englufed in his warm embrace and he can smother you with all his love.

b ⤖ beginning (what would he be like as a bsf; how would the friendship start?)

┊︰as a bestfriend he's always going to be the shoulder you can lean on; whether you need him to cry or rant to, or just to simply tell everything he's going to always be there for you. ┊︰as for how the friendship starts; you definitely had to initate it, however i can see it happening in a classroom settings; like a strangers to bestfriends to lovers au all because you guys got paired up for a project, and from there you guys became best friends.

c ⤖ cuddles (does he like to cuddle; how would he cuddle?)

┊︰yes, yes, and yes. he loves cuddling; he's more comfortable in your arms or when your in his. he loves canoodling so much, and even tangling your legs together with him makes his heart go pitter patter.

d ⤖ domestic (does he want to settle down; how good is he at cooking and cleaning?)

┊︰i know in a fan meeting he said he didn't want to get married; but i feel like he definitely would settle down if he found the one, as in like twin flame kind of relationship. ┊︰he's pretty good at cooking and cleaning; but sometimes he's not really in the mood to always be the one cooking or cleaning, so expects it to be a pretty even split in the relationship if not maybe even a 60/40 kind of deal.

e ⤖ ending (if he had to break up with you; how would he do it?)

┊︰breaking up would be so hard for him; he wouldn't know how to approach the situation and would hesitate a few times before he breaks the news. ┊︰i see soobin approaching you in a very kind way, almost not wanting to break your heart knowing he will regardless. he wouldn't text or call, but he would show up or ask you to meet and right then he would tell you he wants to break up.

f ⤖ fiance (how does he feel about commitment; would he want to get married quick?)

┊︰he's not too keen about marriage; it's not in his plan, but like i said, if he finds the one he's going to want to put a ring on that finger asap. ┊︰he definitely would not want to get married quickly, and would definitely prefer dating for atleast a few years before even considering marriage; but then again, if you're the one (he's going to know if you're the one) he will put a ring on that finger.

g ⤖ gentle (how gentle is he; emotionally + physically?)

┊︰soobin is the definition of gentle; everything he does he keeps your feelings and emotions in mind; he would never ever hurt you intentionally and feels bad even thinking about it. ┊︰soobin is emotionally gentle, and his touch is also very gentle; his touch is soft and delicate; he treats you almost as if you're porcelain or bone china.

h ⤖ hugs (does he likes hugs; how often does he hug you; what are his hugs like?)

┊︰mmm, he loves hugs. he loves them so much, every hug he has with you is going down in the books. every moment is cherished with him. ┊︰he often hugs you; they're usually random or sweet back hugs as you complete your daily tasks. his hugs are warm and sweet; and again, his touch is delicate.

i ⤖ i love you (how fast does he say he loves you?)

┊︰not fast; and when he's about to say it for the first time it almost sounds a bit hesitant. he's scared you won't say it back, but he does it anyways regardless of how fast his heart is beating in the moment. once soob says he loves you, it's really true; he means it from the bottom of his heart.

j ⤖ jealousy (how jealous does he get; what does he do when he is jealous?)

┊︰although he's not blatantly the jealous type; he does get jealous occasionally. he's not showy with his jealousy and contains it very well knowing you're loyal to him. ┊︰however, when he does get jealous he gets a bit pouty and passive as he just wants to leave whatever scene is causing him to feel a bit more possessive over you.

k ⤖ kisses (what are his kisses like; where does he like to kiss you; where does he like to be kissed?)

┊︰im gonna say it again, his touch is soft and delicate; and the same goes for his kisses. his lips are never chapped, they're so soft and plump and everytime his lips land on yours it feels like you've kissed a cloud, or maybe even a pillow. ┊︰soobin loves to be kissed on his lips or along his jaw; he also really loves being kissed on his forehead or the top of his head while he falls asleep. as for where he likes to kiss his you; he will always choose to kiss you on your lips or your cheek, he also places the sweetest kisses on your head while he runs his fingers through your hair as he vets you to sleep.

l ⤖ little ones (how is he around children?)

┊︰he's so good with children; especially because he has a nephew. he knows how their little minds work and feels young again when he hangs out around little ones. idc what anyone says, soobin is literally husband and dad material.

m ⤖ morning (how are mornings spent with him?)

┊︰he's obviously still sleeping in the morning; he doesn't get up till around noon and sometimes not even till the actual afternoon. but with some schedules, he might get up early but he never disturbs your beauty rest.

n ⤖ night (how are nights spend with him?)

┊︰you guys tend to stay up late, although its not intentional how late you guys stay up; you find yourselves talking or having a meaningful conversation in bed and suddenly it's 4am and the sun is starting to rise as the sky grows lighter and brighter. nights always end with you in his arms regardless.

o ⤖ open (when would he open up; does he say everything at once or does he wait to reveal himself?)

┊︰he doesn't open up quickly; and when he does open up he's not really aware he's telling you his whole life story. he values those aspects of him and doesn't want to share them with just anyone; but once he's ready to open up, hes going to tell you everything all at once.

p ⤖ patience (how easily angered is he?)

┊︰it takes a few pushes for him to get angry; he's good at containing his anger and would rather communicate calmly then shout angrily. overall, he's not easily angered.

q ⤖ quizzes (how much would he remember about you; does he remember every little detail; or is he forgetful?)

┊︰everything, he remembers everything about you. maybe not every little detail but he's the type to remember the randomest things about you, he's also very mindful and is very attentive to your emotions and feelings.

r ⤖ remember (what is his favorite moment in the relationship?)

┊︰his favorite moments are the simplest moments; those moments where it's just you and him against the world, those moments where everything is drowned out except for the sound of your laughter and voice, those moments where he's tuned everything out and is only looking at your eyes and the way they shine.

s ⤖ security (how protective is he; how does he protect you; how would he like to be protected?)

┊︰he's very protective; you might not realize this but his hand holds on a little tighter in shady allies and he pulls you a little closer when he's around suspicious people. he doesn't feel a need to be protected but he will always feel most safe if he's around you in the warming nature of your home or his.

t ⤖ try (how much effort does he put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

┊︰he's not the most creative with dates as he's the definition of a homebody. when it comes to dates he'll plan a delicious dinner and nice movie; anniversaries he'll get a gift. but he's always trying his best and putting his all into everything he does for you. he really does try, and he never stops.

y ⤖ ugly (what are some of his bad habits?)

┊︰sometimes when he's upset he's not entirely sure how to express how he feels and tends to keep it locked in. that's his only bad habit, but further in the relationship he abandons this and is not afraid to tell you what the hell went wrong in his day.

v ⤖ vanity (how concerned is he with his looks?)

┊︰he's not super concerned about his looks, and he doesn't really care about what people think about him as long as you're happy with him.

w ⤖ whole (would he feel incomplete without you?)

┊︰yes, especially if you guys have been together for a long time. in the beginning he felt himself, but further in the relationship it's almost as if you became a part of him and vice versa.

x ⤖ xtra (random headcanon for him)

┊︰soobin always wants to be with you; and would do anything to have time just to be with you. spending time with you is something he cherishes; and it's definitely his love language if not physical touch.

y ⤖ yuck (what are some things he wouldn't like; in general or in a partner?)

┊︰he wouldn't want a partner who had a big ego and a huge pride confidence is cute but being conceited isn't. he would want someone who as aware and attentive to his emotions, he hates arguing doesn't want someone who would pick fights with him for no reason either.

z ⤖ zzz (what are his sleeping habits?)

┊︰when he sleeps, he's all over you. whether he's got a leg on top of you, his arm is stretched over your abdomen; he's always on you in some way, shape, or form.

© 2022 ilyeonjns — prev. junthusiast

do not steal, copy, or repost any of my work.

[someone1348]

Hello hello hi- Ur ROTTMNT are amazing! I would like to ask more ler!turtles and them babysitting a little child (Just name the child "Kid" [Pronouns: They/Them]), basically what I mean is Ler!Turtles and Lee!Kid. I'd bet it looked so cute and awesome! I'm counting on you in this project, thank you!❤❤❤❤

Hii!! Thank you so much for your ask! This is incredible! I hope you enjoy!

People in this: Ler!Turtles and Lee!Kid (Platonic!)

Babysitting duties! I'm so excited for this one!

Tw: mention of getting hurt/patched up. Other than that, none this is adorable!

And with all of that being said enjoy!

-K

____________~☆°♡°☆°♡°☆~_____________

Leo!:

It was Leo's turn to babysit! And trust me, he's got the spirit! But not a lot of the responsibility aspect of babysitting. It's nothing bad! He's just more about having fun then anything else; so when it was his turn to take care of his favorite kid he was fully prepared to put you on a mini ramp and try to teach you how to skateboard!

This is what I mean by fun over responsibility with Leo. He had Donnie build a mini ramp for you last night so everything was ready to go! He put you on his big blue skateboard holding your hands as you tried going down it a few times. He kept this up a few times. Sometimes, you went down on your butt or slid down the ramp on your stomach like you were sledding! And Leo giggled along with you every time.

"You're doing great kid! You wanna try it without me this time?" After seeing how hesitant you were he held your hands again

"Here we'll try this again, and then if you feel ready, you can do it on your own, I'll be right here the whole time, okay little champion!"

"Yeah!!"

It was a lot of fun! He was a really good teacher. So you did it a few more times with Leo's help before you felt confident enough to do it all on your own! You were geared up with all the essentials, but nothing could have prepared you for what was about to happen.

You took a tumble, falling onto your butt and scraping your elbow in the process,

"KID!" Leo rushed over, examining your injury before holding his favorite little one close "You did so good kid! We all fall, it's getting back up that shows true strength" he wiped your fallen tears holding your little face in his hands "I think that's enough skateboarding for today" he giggled as you nodded.

He scooped them up leading the child to the first aid kit "Okay, we gotta clean you up kiddo! It might sting just a bit but I promise it's all to help you feel better!" He smiled as you gave him a sour look

"I know kiddo, here you get to pick the band aid you want!" He shot you a gaint smile as you pointed to your favorite one and held your elbow up for him, thankfully it was nothing to bad but he still needed to clean it and put a band aid on it. "Here we go!" He started as they winced

"I know, kiddo. I promise it'll be over soon," he finished up, putting the band aid on before he smirked, skittering his fingers down your arm and under one of them enjoying the giggles that provided

"You did great kid!" He giggled along with you using his other hand to gently squeeze at your side "Surprise tickle attack!" He smirked, blowing a raspberry to your stomach enjoying your precious laughter

He nuzzled his head into their stomach to make it tickle more before he fully scooped you up into his lap blowing a raspberry into your worst spot

"Uh ohhhh, the tickle monster found your tickle spottt~ I'm gonna getcha'!" He continued tickling you all over your tickle spot with every tactic known in the books "you are too cute! I could eat those giggles up alll day!" He teased bopping your nose in the process

"Okahay! Okay! I'm full!" He smiled, rubbing away the ghost tickles before holding you close, rocking you back and forth."Here, how about I get you some ice cream and we watch Jupiter Jim"

"YEAH!"

"WOOHOO!"

-

Donnie!:

You were always so excited to have Donnie babysit you! He was so smart and funny! It was always a great time!

"D!! YOU'RE HERE!!"

"Hmmmm Playtime? And food!"

"Indeed I have arrived. What is on the agenda for today, kiddo?" He smiled at you closing a tab on his wrist tablet thing!

"Two excellent choices my little friend" he smiled down, rubbing their head as he spoke "although you are missing your 2 o clock nap"

"Oh yeah! And that!" He picked you up and carried you around the room, smiling at your tiny yawn

"Thank you Again Donnie I promise I'll pay you back!" April smiled getting ready to leave

"Anytime April Anytime" he waved her out before turning to the kid in his arms again "was that a yawn I heard earlier?"

"Noooo"

He smirked "I think it wasss"

You shook your head again as he giggled "Did you get enough rest last night?"

You explained to him what happened, you were so excited for today that you couldn't sleep so natrually when your head hit his comfy soft shell/the fabric that protected it, it was easy to fall asleep!

He smiled "that's fair, you want to move that nap up an hour or two then kid?"

"No! Let's play! Please"

"Thank you for using your manors, of course we can play, I'll count and you go hide!" He smiled putting them down as they ran around the apartment trying to find a place to hide.

"Tennn,,,,elevennn,,,eighteenn,,,nineteen,,,TWENTY! READY OR NOT HERE I COME!" He shouted as he opened his eyes and began the search.

"Where are you, kiddoo? Come out, come out wherever you aree~" he smirked as he followed the sound of tiny giggles that led to the closet door

"Hmmm I wonder if this closet has any answers" he giggled before opening it up "Gasp! I found youuu~"

"D!!"

"Kid!!" He matched your energy before scooping you up into his lap and wiggling his fingers all over your stomach and sides enjoying your laughter as he continued

"Oh no! The tickle monsters got you! Tickle Tickle Tickleee" he continued with a smirk as he moved to your worst spot

"Someone's extra ticklish here!" He giggled along with you as he pointed out the obvious, continuing there for a little before stopping and rubbing away the ghost tickles

"All done!" He smiled holding you close again as you caught your breath, slowly drifting off to sleep

"Sleep well Kiddo, I'll wake you up in a few hours, you truly deserve it" He smiled, tucking you in for a good, well deserved, rest

-

Raph!:

"Raphie!" He smiled as his name was called, poking his head in the door he giggled along with you walking over to the young one, lifting them up carefully in his arms

"Kiddo!" He spun you around as he spoke eventually sitting down onto the floor as you sat comfortably in his lap "I brought you some snacks and a juice box! You're favorite kind! From the good store!" You cheered as he handed it to you

"Thank you Raphie!"

"Anytime kiddo Anytime!" He lightly pinched your cheeks before you put the drink down poking his chest repeatedly

"What's up kid?" He questioned smiling before you began to climb his body like a jungle gym

"Hehey! Kid my body is not a playground" he giggled trying to catch you so you didn't hurt yourself on his spikes but nothing was getting through to the young one he just kept a close eye out and let it happen

"Annnddd,,, Gotcha!" He giggled as he held you up by the shirt before bringing you down in a helicopter tickling your stomach as you landed back in his lap

"Tickletickletickletickle!" He cooed in his baby voice as he continued enjoying the laughter it brang from your lips

"Dawwww you are so adorable! The tickle monster is hungry! Om nom nom nom!" He moved from tickle spot to tickle spot blowing raspberries into your skin before moving to your worst spot, using his projection hands to tickle you too

"Power Tickle Jutsu!~" He shouted as he did that. He eventually stopped when you've had enough, rubbing away the ghost tickles from your skin and holding you close

"Ihi think its nap time"

"I think you're right" you were out in no time, he smiled and tucked you in, placing a gentle platonic kiss to the crown of your head

"Sleep well kiddo you truly deserve it"

-

Mikey!:

He smiled, painting away as calming instrumental music played through his phone. It was arts and crafts time with Mikey! And the two of you couldn't have had more fun!

You were coloring in a coloring book that Mikey got you, eating snacks and enjoying the moment while he was working on a painting of his own, he tilted his head as you giggled

"Whatcha' giggling about kid?"

"Nothhhinnggg"

"Ohoh I don't trust those giggles~ I'm coming over there" he joked, causing more giggles to flow out of you as he walked over to where you were, looking at what was so funny

He smiled as he put on a fake British accent "hmmm very interesting indeed but I think the blue goes righhtt Here! Ah yes that's perfect!" He smiled putting a dot of blue paint on your nose from his paint brush

"Mihihikeyy!" You giggled before drawing a line with marker on his arm

"Oh it is on!" He giggled scooping you up into his lap as he used different paint brushes to paint all over your skin, you used your marker to get him back and it was an all out art war, until he cheated but scribbling against your sides

"Gotcha giggles! Tickletickletickletickle!" He smiled brightly tickling you alll over your tickle spots enjoying every giggle, laugh and reaction you made

"Oooo what about heree~" he moved to your worst spot for a little "Im gonna getcha'!" He laughed along with you before he slowed down to a stop, noticing when it was enough

"Ohohokay! I think that's enough tickles for now giggles" He booped your nose, watching as in crinkled inwards making him smile more

"I think someone needs a bath, yeah?"

"You mean yohou?"

"I mean you, kiddo! Lehets go!"

"Ohakahay! Okay!"

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

I hope you all enjoyedd! I loved writing this! Thank you again for the request I apologize for the delay! :]

-K :]

[pettykarma]

Here is my rewrite of Mega Man Fully Charged kids cast !

Aki (Aki Daisan Light) :

- Aki's motif to become a hero would be change, from "doing it because it's right" to "I do it for my family, so they would live safely in this city I call home."

- a hopeless romantic. Keep getting rejected by previous crushes, the last one is Ashley.

- unintentionally troublemaker, like pulling jokes and gives sarcasm, never intended to be mean.

- He is an outcast, only true friend is Bert, Ashley is close, the others are just okay with Aki but never get close to him. Only a few get near for his family name or short interest in him.

- cares deeply about family and friends, like to welcome new friends and family (loves new found family trope/member)

- likes to do sports or dancing when bored. Likes video games and comic books. Likes collecting comic books and special editions posters. Have a collections of retro and indie games, also famous games.

- likes to learn string types instruments, guitar, cello, violin, harp. Aki can only practice guitar since he is busy and he can't learn all of it, so usually learns it from viewtube (youtube). Hates to play brass and woodwind instruments because it's take too much effort and breathing. The best at percussion instruments (instruments like drums).

- when he practice his singing voice, he can sing very well, but isn't confident onstage.

- never let him near the kitchen for cooking, Aki is horrible at cooking. He is good at cleaning when he wants to.

- practice his combat skills at free time because being a hero is important, also start to practice more since Lightfall incident.

- have trust issues after so many event went down in canon, not woodman level issue but still an issue.

- practice martial arts a year before the show event, practice many kinds of judo, taekwondo, and jujitsu. He learn all of it fast.

- collects various kinds of jackets, vest, and shirts with T-shirts, almost any kind of outerwear. Suna often borrow it or his friends would. Kay-kay steal his jacket sometimes.

- really friendly and outgoing kid and can talk to other kids since he understands some of the topics they talk about, usually trends. Aki is more connected with the nerds or geeks about his favorite comic books or games, he keep it a secret so he doesn't get more teasing, Bert is the only one Aki can talk freely with.

- Aki had another best friend than Bert. He was Jake Blake, rival and best friend. They used to spare match a lot and still hang out, even when Bert doesn't join in the match, Aki  and Jake always have Bert around, they were best friend. Until an incident happen to Jake because of Aki recklessness and it make Aki felt Guilty. Ever since then, Jake family moved to another city and left Bert and Aki, Aki was ridden with guilt, Aki never practice martial art ever since until the show begin.

Suna (Suna Daichi Light):

- absolute tech witch, girl can create various tech but it cost too much time, she could spent months on a project to finish, her longest project '0' took 1 and a half year to complete.

- can rock a goth and Lolita style clothes but for special occasions only, she usually wear sporty types for work and daily life.

- she had a crush that died of dementia, her name was Iris. A girl with soft light brown hair, soft emerald eyes, and fair skin but frail body, Suna absolutely understand how hard love can be for Aki after Iris death, Suna manage to date Iris for awhile before Iris death so the memory turn bittersweet, Suna keep all of Iris's gifts and photos in a lock box with a locket key she made specifically for that heart box for her Iris.

- she wanted to be a ballerina but now she wants to be a fighter for her family, she start to practice her offense fight skills with Aki as her sparing partner but still practice ballet, turns out she can combine both movements to her advantage and make more damage with that.

- A skilled ballerina and have won a trophy or two on a ballet competition. Everyone think Suna is beautiful in her ballerina outfit on stage.

Daini (Tsuki Daini Light):

- forced to endure high training and many pain for years, he became numb to his wounds and scars emotionally and physically.

- he was a good bright boy but being raised to be a weapon can tool a toll on anyone. Have anger issues because of neglect and abuse.

- wanted freedom for a long time but realized he will wasted years of pain for nothing if he didn't become the "robot liberator" Night promised him to be.

- wants pets but you know his conditions.

- he may seems stronger than Aki but it was because he always gave his best and pushed his limits too often to the point he is easy to be exhausted.

- can't have a break at all.

- even after the truth is revealed, he just can't heal his issues.

- things will go up for him, eventually.

- he rename himself as Daini without looking up the meaning, boy would he be mad at himself.

- gets adopted by hypnowoman and gets free healing therapy for a while.

- managed to find a part of Silicon City called  Rusty Silica. That town is the first version of Silicon City and a hidden part from history.

- he meet his new Mini, Tiny. Tiny is a mechanical in the town and start helping Daini for all the years worth of damaged he gained from hard-core training.

- after skullman fight, he returned to Rusty Silica and save Tiny before his home collapse on him, so from then on Tiny live inside Daini system cause boy system is jumbled up he is lucky to still function normally.

- start to pet many animals, small robots include scavengers (from comic) those little pets start following Daini’s commands and treat him like he is their beloved owner.

- gets a robot cat name Tango and scavenger name Scavy.

Bert (Robert Wily):

- Light kids first friend and most dependable and trustworthy person in school, unlike the rest of his family.

- Bert have always been a kind soul to everyone, cheerful young lad despite all the hatred thrown at him. Bert always believe to be kind and brave like heroes. Bert watch too much hero movies which give him his heroic moralities and his mother parenting style that help Bert to become the sweet boy he is in canon.

- Bert father is always absent in his life, even when that man was at home, he never care for the family other than give them financial support. Bert always hoped his father would be proud of him but he lost hope.

(Bert father had a chip in him that was planted by Dr. Wily, the chip cause Mr. Wily his lack of emotion, so Mr. Wily cut of Dr. Wily from his life for the safety of his wife and son. He was enraged to find out Dr. Wily manipulated Bert to like him and there's nothing that Mr. Wily can do about it.)

- Dr. Wily is the only father figure he have to replace his absent father. Little does Bert know, Dr Wily always have and ulterior motive for his needs.

- Bert became Aki's best friend every since day-1. Bert parents were uneasy by this at first but Bert's mother welcome Aki with an open arms after knowing the robot boy, Bert's father just ignored Aki present, the man was indifference by his son's friendship with a robot.

Ashley Adderley:

- lives with her parents and her uncle who is a robot master name plantman, she lives in an upper class apartment and have her own project room. Her dad owns the apartment.

- her dad is rich cause he is a manager of sky corporations and is a smart businessmen, unfortunately he doesn't come home often and lives next city.

- her mother owns a Cafe as manager and owner, she have a co-manager, even when she do this for hobby of cooking and decor. She make recipes so her chefs can cook it for the customers, the Cafe only opens 5 days a week on weekdays, but would close if she have a family plans and husband is around.

- her uncle works at a flower shop and sells pretty bouquets with so many colorful and unique flowers, even sells rare ones. He published two books, the first is about flowers and their histories also their maintenance, the second is about how to make a garden flower and how to make that hobby profitable.

- since all adults have their own business to do, sometimes when their are distracted they leave Ashley alone at home which gives her more privacy and time to find some parts for her project.

- she could leave the house locked before leaving and then when to shops, robot markets, if she is brave enough she would go to the badlands.

- she never stays out for long and always comes home before noon around 4.

- hang around libraries and her mom's Book Cafe more often.

- read heavy literature, science history books, robotics books, but also likes some teen novels.

- her high intelligence and curiosity makes her bored of the knowledge she gains from all media and school history that make her decide she wants to dig deeper into a more uncensored or true versions of history that peak her interest more that what all media showed to public.

- she start to learn all the ways to hack into illegal systems and info that she would bring to her grave if the knowledge is forbidden.

- Not only knowledge she would seek on illegal sites, she would gather info of some robotics part that she can study to make or buy at a local robot market, most parts are used robot master's parts.

- in her own project room, she is in a deep process of creation her own first robot master but keep failing because none ever active normally like a functional robot, it keeps blowing up. Instead, she makes a robotic suit.

- truthfully, she was a lonely girl. At elementary, Noone bats an eye at her, she doesn't have many friends, and had a bully that belittled her. So she showed to everyone of what she can do, it worked, Ashley then became popular at her elementary. Until she got humiliated at a science fair in front of everyone at school when she was at 5th grade. She changed school when she became a preteen and have her middle school at Silicon Central.

- at her first day, she stumble on Suna and Aki because they were searching for their class. To Ashley utter suprise, she sits with Suna as her new classmates. They talk with each and get along fine, so for the whole year they became and Suna invites her to her house, introduced Aki her robot brother and told her his is in her class with his best friend Bert Wily.

- so from then on, they become friends the rest follows the canon show.

- Ashley parents aren't always around so she can handle chores herself when none of her guardian are home.

- love it when she is home alone. She isn't home alone often so its an opportunity for her to be as wild as she likes.

- she test her inventions outside on the rooftop or at her project room if she wants to be safe.

- her apartment rooftop is own by her uncle Plantman and use as a green house for his flowers. Ashley often goes there if she wants to be alone or she wants to see the view, like seriously the sunset and dawn is gorgeous at there.

- wears and use a lot of safety protocols when she do a test run.

- only Suna knew about this and is a great secret keeper. Also she is Ashley trusted partner for her projects and vice versa.

- Ashley have a dream to be up on space, but she changed her dream to be the greatest scientist instead because she lower her expectations before her dream fall over.

(- Mr. James Adderley is actually a secret police working for the government agency to protect both human and robot lives and prevent war or tragedy from happening.

- his work as a manager is a cover up.

- he keep track of all the city incident and have his eyes on Wily and Light. Unfortunately, if he wants to arrest them, he needs prove of their crime.

- feel terrible for keep missing his daughter birthdays and breaking his promises to her for his work, he will mend his relationship.)

Chaotique/Felicia Fou/Felicia Quickster/Felicia Tops:

- Chaotique have another name which is Felicia. Like Aki and megaman, Felicia is Chaotique "human" alter ego

- this girl had a family of 5 older brothers, 2 older sisters, and a father who love his kids a lot.

- all of her older siblings are overprotective of each other, their dad is worse especially after being lock up by the government for "breaking the contract".

- was created for war but her dad can't help but making her a bit more humane than her siblings.

- had brown hair at first but she dyed it later.

- worked with Blue Bomb around the Hard Age, unfortunately her memories got wiped after her family attempted escape from war.

- get deployed to Lyon in France and layer adopted by Plum (robot News reporter) and Quickman (Japan-France speedster military bot). Her new name is Felicia because she looked so happy and energetic, also she forgot her real name.

- She lived in France for 5 years until a virus outbreak that force her to be separated from her mother and watch her father died by the robot zombies. (She despise zombies ever since and hates any zombie related movies.)

- she evacuate to Canada and lived in an orphanage, they thought she was a cyborg and she look more human than robot so she have to lie about being a human even though she start to despise human but it was still small hatred.

- enrolled to a "elite" school academy for her athletic skills, she was ecstatic but it turn to regret.

- no one at school respect her due to her having robotic parts, except for some group of social outcast artistic girls who bring Felicia to their group. The group consists of one robot girl and 2 human girls but one of them have realistic prospetics arms cause the girl was born without arms.

- the girls have a lot of fun with each other, they do pranks, art, karaoke, sleepovers, and heart to heart talk where they can pour their emotional baggage and they will support each other through thick and thin.

- a tragedy happened at a school talent show, an envious girl bullies Felicia and her friend, the bully have sabotage the stage and although Felicia team manage to won after getting sabotage the bully didn't stop her harassment toward both girls until an electronic panel get caught on fire. The fire spread to the whole room and Felicia almost lost her friend if she didn't save her with her superspeed. Unfairly, the bully paint the accident as Felicia fault so she got expelled from school and the accident gets covered for the school "good" name.

- Felicia gets adopted again by Topman (robot dancer, traveller and ex-soldier). Felicia happily accepted if that means to get out of her bad situation.

- while traveling with her new uncle, Felicia discovered her powers more and learned how to control it, with the help of Topman she became the speedster she is now.

- she then remembered her old name which is Chaotique so she settled with 2 names.

- wherever city she and her uncle stop by, she start to do pranks to lighten up her mood.

- she and her uncle arrived in Silicon City 3 months before the show event begin.

- she is an absolute dancer because of her uncle teaching so her uncle open a dance studio for people of all age to learn dancing from beginner to expert level. Chaotique is in expert level but help her uncle as his assistant.

- she attended Silicon Central but she is often absent for 5 months for the 1st semester. She is supposed to be the same class as Aki but she was smart enough to cheat (still studies) on an intelligent test to determine her grade level and land on a high score without being caught. She end up in Suna class.

- really great with navigation and mapping her surroundings, she is friendly to other robots and some kids regardless of species, people around her living area notice her as a good girl, ironic isn't it.

- her uncle can only afford a standard apartment but it was good enough for Chaotique, she loves to decorate her room to her liking and have many DIY stuff, thanks to her old friends.

- she doesn't buy clothes unless it's necessary, she often thrift clothes for girls styles, she own some clothing and her uncle would buy pretty dresses but she just keep it so it's still brand new.

- steals many things for fun or prank materials.

- DIY most of her pranks or collections (charms, accessories, or normal gadgets)

- best skater girl and wins a rolling derpy competition.

- her style is grudge, punk, and techno, mostly streetstyle.

- dyed her hair green when she was traveling with her uncle.

- she is tall and have a perfect figure with an outgoing attitude and mostly nice to everyone at school despite often being absent, she's one of the popular kids at Silicon Central.

- Bert likes Felicia as a friend than Chaotique which is hilarious to her.

- Suna only knows her as a classmate and that's it.

Peter Punk:

- is actually a 12 year old who skip grades due to his intelligent. But keep it a secret to his classmates and told them he is as old as them

- insecure about his age and his interest and he is afraid people would underestimate him because he is young.

- actually more childish when he isnt at school.

- his voice is squeaker than the Canon show, adorable even. (A squeaky toy mix with ducklings sweetness)

- his casual wear is more colorful than what he wears to school.

- no nose drool.

- still wears glasses but hair gets messier if he gets more relax or fun.

- actually admire Ashley like big sister he wants to impress, he wants to be smarter than her tho.

- likes Bert to his friendliness and never judge him based on age, Peter tell him the truth by accident but Bert never underestimate him a little bit even after finding out.

- his rivalry with Aki start out cause Aki treat him like a kid (Aki actually just being polite due to their height differences) so Peter gets more annoying on purpose just to make Aki  stop treating him like a kid, it only make Aki gets annoyed and them treat him like an annoying classmate (a nuisance). Peter think this is better cause atleast Aki sees him at his level.

- PLEASE JUST MAKE HIM CUTE INSTEAD OF GROSS. LIKE CUTELY ANNOYING.

If this notes get many likes and replies, I'll make my re-imagine of them, ISTG.

[river-bottom-nightmare]

i want dick grayson to be annoyingly perfect in the smallest of unimportant ways. and i want it to irritate the living hell out of everyone around him

every now and then, jason and dick will go to different chili dog carts around the city, and dick will sit and nod in agreement as jason nitpicks the food, occasionally offering his own two cents. the conversations are tense and if the topic strays from anything except food jason books it, but it’s progress, and dick’s grateful. but he doesn’t understand why jason always growls at him when he’s preparing his chili dogs, chalking it up to jason’s obsessiveness about that food in particular. dick figures he’s probably doing it wrong. until one day, jason bites out a rough question, asks him how he did that. dick’s confused, until jason points out, “you tear open the top of the ketchup packet in a perfect line every time. and you get all of the ketchup out of the packet in one smooth squeeze, and you never get any on your fingers, and i don’t understand how.”

roy was, arguably, a better archer than ollie. green arrow had been birthed from the island, from the trauma of survival. roy, however, had been practicing since he was a kid, and now that he was well into his twenties, he could safely say he was one of the best shots in the world. he could beat all his friends at darts, shoot an apple off wally’s head, and was generally pretty awesome. or, he would be awesome, if only dick fucking grayson would stop making every single shot of anything he threw in a trash can. no matter what he was throwing away, no matter the angle, no matter the wind or rain, as long as the trashcan was in eyesight, anything dick tossed would inevitably end up inside the garbage. sometimes, dick barely even glanced at the damn thing, just took note of it a threw the trash, expecting it to land in the proper place. and it always did. the worst part was, dick didn’t even seem to notice it. he wasn’t actively trying to make every shot. when asked, dick just shrugged and said “we had some pretty good knife throwers in the circus.”

tim’s memories starting out as robin were a whirlwind, a push-pull of bruce’s mistrust, then bruce’s acceptance, of dick’s fear and hesitation, then of dick’s love. he still remembered dick making the two of them hot chocolate in the kitchen after a day of training, tim’s muscles sore and entire body aching but the feeling of pride, because he was good enough to be robin, he knew he was. he hadn’t expected that to happen anytime soon again, given the way their relationship had fractured after tim had left dick’s batman, a terrified fury in his eyes. yet, he’d been proven wrong when, after a particularly rough arkham breakout, alfred asked both dick and tim to stay instead of returning to their own apartments. just because the manor brought back a feeling of warm nostalgia, however, doesn’t mean it kept the nightmares away. he came down to the kitchen and saw dick already up, moving around the stovetop. with a knowing look in his eyes, dick grabbed another mug to make tim some hot chocolate. tim was washed over with a feeling of relief, of acceptance. dick slid the mug towards him and tim took a sip, letting the rich chocolate warm him up from the inside. it was delicious. his little sigh of pleasure must have been audible, but then he remembered something he noticed. “dick. did you use alfred’s recipe for this?” and dick laughed, responded with, “nah. too much work. i just sort of tried to remember what was in hot chocolate, and eyeballed most of the ingredients. i’m glad it turned out good though. no clumps too, that’s good.”

donna didn’t care how old she got, playing in the park with dick never got old. as one of her oldest friends, the two of them could just walk around the park, in companionable silence, just letting themselves relax and enjoy the moment. so, of course, dick would break the silence and ask if she had any earbuds, because it was getting to quiet for him. donna laughed, and reached inside her pocket, fingered past the keys, and grabbed the headphones. the tangled little ball that came out made her sigh, and she pulled on an earbud to loosen it, only managing to make one of the many knots tighter. then, dick took the headphones out of her hands with a here, i got it, and with a few quick tugs, the tangled monstrosity unraveled easy as breathing. then, completely unaffected, he handed her an earbud, putting the other in his own ear. “i’m the one who’s got a lasso,” she said, ignoring dick’s snort and quip about how earbuds and a lasso are two completely different things, donna.

cass hadn’t expected to enjoy such a gentle, graceful form of athletics, but after a few lessons, it had become apparent that ballet could be far from gentle. it pushed her, made her practice and strengthen herself, and she’d fallen in love with the art quickly. however, the most frustrating part of the entire thing had little to do with actually dancing. the school bruce had helped pick out was prestigious, which meant a strict dress code, which meant her hair had to be in a bun. unfortunately, her hair never seemed to want to cooperate. after her latest attempt, falling into a mess of hair at her nape that had so many locks falling out, cass contemplated how mad the teacher would be if she showed up in a ponytail. at that moment, dick peeked into her room, having heard her frustrated noise, and asked if he could do anything to help. cass pointed to the mess of hair, not even remotely contained by the hair tie, and blew a strand out of her face. dick smiled with understanding, then came into her room, grabbing the comb on her bed and standing behind her in front of the mirror. he smoothed her hair with the comb, then pulled it this way and that, twisting and turning and wrapping until, two minutes later, a picture perfect bun sat atop her head. cass blinked with surprise. “first try,” she said, staring up at him, but he just shrugged and said, “it’s not that hard. you want me to drop you off?”

bruce could admit that he rather enjoyed undercover missions. it was an extended game with high stakes, a test of his own acting skills. with makeup changing his face, an expertly made wig, and a demeanor completely different from both brucie wayne and from batman, he swept through the crowd of greasy men, looking for a specific contact. then, he caught sight of someone specific indeed, though they weren’t his contact. eyebrows raised in a what are you doing here? gesture, he slid onto a barstool. from behind the bar, dick offered him a blinding smile, cleaning a glass. he tapped his wrist twice, a clear message. undercover, same as you. then, dick grabbed a couple bottles from underneath a shelf, flipping them in his hand and pouring with grandeur. bruce noticed he hadn’t put any alcohol in his little mixture, only making it seem as if he had. the flashy moves were entertaining, bruce could give him that. dick slid him the drink and bruce took a sip, eyebrows raising in brief surprise. “this is good. bartending?” dick put the bottles and the lemon away, unimpressed. “it’s not like it’s hard. just mixing a couple ingredients. no biggie.” bruce was fairly certain bartending was more difficult than that, but just then, his target came into view. 

steph understood some of the bats’ frustration with dick, she really could. he hadn’t exactly been a welcome and opening batman, that’s for sure. regardless, as the few masks left in gotham had to work together, and she’d gotten to know the man pretty well. and she enjoyed his company as nightwing much more than batman. she dropped onto his balcony in his bludhaven apartment, announcing her presence in that loud-subtle way. dick was nestled in a couple blankets on the couch, going over a couple files, apparently just back from patrol if the small bandage on his neck and bags under his eyes were any indication. nevertheless, he brightened when he saw her and she nodded when he asked if she wanted to spend the night. he moved some of the papers to make room for her on the couch, but she flitted into his bathroom, going through the nail polish bottles she knew he had, and grabbing a shade of red that caught her eye. she tossed him the bottle and put her fingers in his lap, talking aimlessly about a movie she watched with cass. dick seemed to relax amidst her jabbering, and he shook the bottle a couple times before opening it and focusing on her right hand. but as he started, steph paused her rambling and focused on him instead, holding her hands gently and brushing paint onto her nails. he managed to cover her entire nail in three easy strokes, smooth and glossy, not a hint of paint on her skin. the nail was practically perfect. oh god she was jealous. “got a lot of practice with this, grayson?” she asked, and laughed at dick’s mock-offended of course not!

damian wasn’t one for photography, and he could grudgingly admit drake was far better at that particular skill than he was. however, his art class had promised to cover all types of media, and had upheld that pledge. the next two weeks were dedicated to photography, and their final project for the unit had to be a small collection of photographs. animal photography, of course, was damian’s chosen subject, and the knowledge that animal photography was one of the hardest skills to master only had damian wanting to do it more. days later, however, he could admit that it was trickier than expected. how had he never noticed how active his animals were? they never sat still, and every single picture came out blurry. grayson, upon coming across him in the manor grounds, noticed his futile attempts and asked if he could help. damian acquiesced the camera to grayson, who looked through the lens, finding the right angle and background, adjusting the focus settings slightly. then, he let out a sharp whistle and snapped his fingers. in nothing short of a miracle, damian’s pets pasued to look at him, only for a second, and the shutter clicked furiously. damian flipped through the photos, a good many of them clear and wonderful. damian snapped in irritation when dick ruffled his hair and said, “now you try!” it definitely wasn’t as easy as grayson made it look.

babs didn’t really know what she was expecting when she broke up with dick. there was hurt on both ends, and distance for a while, and she had no idea how much she’d miss him. but after a couple months of working together, of remembering that underneath the romantic tangles, their friendship was strong, she’d gotten to the point of dick randomly dropping by her apartment again. the downside was, dick kept randomly dropping by her apartment again. he stole her snacks and messed up her filing system and was so irritating that barbara almost forgot how relieved she was at having one of her best friends back. fortunately, it did come with benefits, because when he was bored, he did some of her chores for her. pausing in the doorway, she smiled at the sight of dick folding her clothes and putting them away. the gesture was platonic now, but no less appreciated. she pushed her wheelchair forward, and in greeting, dick told her how much he wanted to steal all her patterned socks. babs reminded him they wouldn’t fit, and laughed at his pout. dick grabbed one sock off the top of the laundry basket, then dug his hand into the pile of clothes randomly, coming up with the second sock in an instant. folding them together, he repeated the process for each pair. “that...that was fast. you got all of them?” babs asked in confusion. “yes? why, did you expect some to be missing?” was dick’s reply as he shook the wrinkles out of a sweater.

wally was never surprised. he knew dick better than probably most people in the world. he’d gone from frustrated and jealous of dick’s random talents, to admiring and appreciative, to just accepting them as a fact of life. dick’s phone never cracked if he accidentally he dropped it. dick never buttoned up shirts wrong, aligning each button with the right hole perfectly on the first try. dick could plug in usb ports the right way. dick always remembered which light switch was for which room, no matter whose house they were at. dick could pop a cd out of its case without ever smudging the disk, holding it by the rim perfectly. and dick always seemed to know when wally needed a day off, to just visit their old haunts, grab some ice cream, and spend the day talking away on a rooftop. that was just something his best friend could do. and wally would never tell dick, but underneath his fake irritation at it, but he loved him for it.

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[seventhfracture]

I got this question from a gorgeous friend on Twitter;

And I’ve done another post about how I update consistently (here) which is the pseudo part 1 of this post. But let’s address the elephant in the room here; Van, how do I write a lot of words fast?

Let’s unpack.

Routine

For the record I do work a full-time job. Roughly 40hrs a week. Sometimes a little more, sometimes a little less. I work 48 weeks a year. However, I write 361-ish days a year. The simplest trick to getting words down is scratching out time to write.

Part of making this easy for yourself is establishing a routine. If something has a place in your day it’s often easier to get done. It becomes semi mechanical. You stop thinking so much about starting and just focus on the doing.

Weekdays and weekends I tend to eat dinner fairly early. And, after cooking and eating, I usually feel dirty so I shower. The meal with my gf and the shower are anchoring points. They happen during the week and the weekend. They don’t move. They give me a chance to be social and to unwind my mind to a more playful frame of mind. The food also helps me refuel for doing a little more. So, after I shower, I sit down at my computer and I write. I write every night from 7pm to 9pm. This is also when I tend to post my updates; at the start of my writing time.

Sometimes ‘writing’ time becomes ‘writing admin’ time. I think it’s important to respond to as many reviews as possible so I try to take time to reply. I also post 3xs a week (4 with collabs) so I need to edit chapters that are going up. This is fine. The important thing is that my brain is trained to know that at this time, every day, we do creative writing or tasks associated with my creative writing. (I would exclude reading from this. Reading is very valuable. You need to consume content to make content, but consuming content is not the same mind frame as making content.)

I can’t tell you what’s going to work for you. Maybe you don’t have a full-time job but maybe you do have kids. Maybe you’re doing a degree. I have friends who work in the industry writing all day in magazines or for video game developers. After 8hrs of writing they find it hard to work on their own projects at the end of the day. This routine works for me. Specifically because of my lifestyle, my habits and the fact that after 8hrs of spreadsheets I’m aching to play. The important note here is that you need a routine. It will help you focus.

What about inspiration? Throw it out. I write because I physically can’t not write. And, no, I don’t have inspiration every day. Hell, some people would argue I’m not inspired any days. You just show up and you put words on the paper. Sometimes that’s going to suck but if you keep showing up your brain, your muse, your inspiration, your whatever will start to show up too. If you sit around waiting to be inspired you might start things but you’ll never finish them.

Inner Critic

For all first drafts the inner critic has to be hogtied. Golden rule. First drafts are play. You are telling yourself the story. It is in effect a practice run and, during a practice run, you are allowed to make any mistake in the book. The point is just to get words on paper. We can clean them up later, but you can’t edit a blank page.

I know this is hard. Some of us have very sharp voices in our brains looking for any chance to self-flagellate. And it’s easy to be insecure. Especially if you’ve failed before. But if you want to want to write and especially if you want to get something written fast you need to turn off your inner critic.

First drafts always suck. Don’t expect them to be great. You’re not baking a cake. Second drafts are baking. First drafts are just buying the ingredients. You wouldn’t look at a pile of ingredients and go “what a shitty cake!” because you haven’t started baking.

But I want to make art! We all want to make things that are meaningful. But if you’re second guessing every dialogue tag, googling 14th century archery or putting ‘growled’ into a thesaurus you’re only going to slow yourself down. And, in my experience, people who set out trying to make really life changing art first instead of just expressing themselves and having fun make shit writing, let alone shit art.

Roadmap

You do not need to plot your story. Let’s be clear. I do not plot. I know a lot of very talented people, who I respect, who don’t plot. But you need something.

Well, two things.

First, you need a goalpost. This can be your premise; “two characters are stuck in a box and one of them has a knife.” And maybe wrapped up in that you have a specific scene you want to hit. That’s a goalpost.

Second, you need an anchor. I never stop a writing session at the end of a scene. Sometimes I don’t even end the sentence. Being in the middle of something gives you a solid jumping off point when you come back next time. You’d be surprised how many times I ended a scene thinking “I’ll write X tomorrow” and then tomorrow arrived and I’d fucking forgotten where I was going. Or, worse, I’d lost the vibe.

Practical Exercises

Okay, Van, this is fine. But how do I turn off my inner critic? How do I start?

Timers: An easy way to shut up your inner critic is to put your body into crisis solving mode. When you need to stop someone from bleeding you don’t criticise how you’re applying the bandages. You just grab what you’ve got and apply pressure to the wound.

Writing is like that.

Set a timer. Start small. 5 minutes sort of small. And tell yourself to write as much as you can in that time. This means no editing as you go, no stopping, no picking a different song on your playlist… just write!

Did you do it?

Good, how many words did you get? Great, now set another 5 minute timer and beat that word total. Go!

Rinse, repeat.

When you train yourself to focus on the doing, not the editing, your brain will start to do so automatically. Your brain will get less itchy about editing and better about working on what it needs to do. You’ll be able to set longer timers and hit bigger goals.

This will also improve your speed and your productivity.

Word goals: Goals are great. They help us track progress and they help us improve. They help weight lifters get stronger and build muscle. You are building muscle.

Your goal is pretty irrelevant in practice. Some published novelists try to hit 200 words a day, some hit 12 pages, some settle for 10 words even if they don’t know what order they’re in. That’s fine. They don’t even have to be good words. They just have to be on the page.

Nanowrimo (National Novel Writing Month) happens every November. The standard goal for participants is 50K. Which is a good sized novella and a solid fanfic. That averages out to 1,666 words a day. Nanowrimo feels this is achievable for most people who want to write creatively, at least for 30 days. 30 days, conveniently, is also how long some people thing it takes to establish a habit. If you need a number start at 1,666. I do nanowrimo every year. I tweeted it last year. There are a whole community of people who participate and support each other. But it also doesn’t need to be November for you to try this.

A warning: It is important to specify here that I write for fun. First, and foremost, writing is my reward. It’s play. I love doing it. I’m a hobbyist. I don’t get paid a cent for the stuff I write. But I don’t care because I love it.

You should always be having fun. Whatever fun looks like for you.

If you are not having fun, then stop.

You have a lot of wonderful things to give to the world. You have a number of creative gifts. And there are a plethora of ways to express yourself. This doesn’t have to be your thing and if it’s not that doesn’t mean you’ve failed. You’re just finding your groove. But writing- art- should not be work unless you are specifically getting paid for it.

Have fun!

Resources Some books I’d recommend on writing, and writing fast;

Bird by Bird, by Anne Lamott Writing Down to the Bones, by Natalie Goldberg Consider This, by Chuck Palahniuk On Writing, by Stephen King

[isamiral-soulwolf]

IsaMira Week Day 4: Picnic

I’m not late, everyone else is just early.

Also putting this under a read more for a brief mention of underage boobage, I don’t think it’s too big of a deal but better safe than sorry.

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In truth, their little get togethers in Isabela’s room after Casita was rebuilt hadn’t been called picnics, at first. It had been more of a mix of ‘I want to make up for being so awful to you for years’ on Isabela’s side and ‘I’m sorry I didn’t notice trying to be perfect was actually really stressful’ on Mirabel’s side, a way of getting some alone time together and working to rebuild their strained bond.

Calling them picnics had started a bit in, when it turned out that every once in awhile it wasn’t just them relaxing together in Isabela’s room with some snacks and drinks. Sometimes Dolores came in because she needed somewhere relatively quiet to unwind for a few hours; sometimes Luisa would creep in with a sheepish smile and a small pile of books, and after a few visits Isabela had put up a hammock so her sister could fully relax while she was reading. Sometimes Camilo and Bruno would come rushing in with their latest plotline for the rat telenovas, or Antonio would want to show his animals Isabela’s new flowers. Sometimes Pepa would come in and just sit in a drizzle, eyes closed, while Isabela’s plants drank up the extra water. Sometimes Julieta snuck in with extra snacks, a mischievous smile curving her lips. And sometimes—rarely, but still, she did try—Alma would come in, asking Isabela about her new flowers, Mirabel about her projects.

So, they called them picnics. It seemed easy enough, it technically counted, and it was less of a mouthful than how either of them thought about it. And hey, Isabela would never say no to more time with any member of her family, even if this had all started because she and Mirabel were trying to repair their bond; that feeling extended to all of them, and she was happy to see that with some time and effort it seemed to be working, slowly but surely.

Today, though, it was just the two of them in Isabela’s room for once. Isabela would gladly take it. She’d have second thoughts about that shortly, but that was a problem for future Isabela to worry about. Present Isabela was currently enjoying the fact that she was in her room and her sister was sprawled out beside her, absently playing with strands of grass.

After a moment, Mirabel sat up. “Hey, Isabela?”

“Hm?”

“You know, I always wondered something. Your new room is nice.”

Isabela smiled slightly, looking around; her room now in Casita was more akin to an indoor jungle, and she loved every bit of it. She loved the flowers, she loved the trees, she even loved the weird little… lake thing that for some reason had been in the room when she’d opened the door again. It was completely different from her old room, and she loved every bit of it. “Yeah.”

Mirabel grinned, pulling her knees up to her chest and glancing at her. “Have you tried swimming in that new pool you have?”

Isabela blinked, looking over at the pool in question. She frowned slightly, looking back at Mirabel. “Uh, no?”

“Really? Not even once?”

“No! Why would I do that?”

“Oh, come on!” Mirabel gestured to the pool, the water completely calm. “Look at it! It’s clean water and it’s just there! You didn’t think about it?”

Isabela looked back to the pool again, shrugging helplessly. “No? It’s just… there. I haven’t thought about it at all.”

“Well.” Mirabel got to her feet with renewed purpose. “I have. And since you haven’t gone for a swim in it yet, which just seems like a waste…”

Isabela only realized what was happening about a second before Mirabel’s hands went down to grip the edges of her shirt and she hissed out a breath, quickly turning around. “Mirabel!”

“What?” Her sister actually laughed. “You’ve seen me naked before, Isa.”

“We were kids.”

“Just look away until I get into the water, then.”

Isabela did just that, taking deep, measured breaths as she listened to—God help her, she could hear clothes rustling, what the hell. Her eyes fell on the snacks she and Mirabel hadn’t touched yet during their picnic, but she suddenly wasn’t feeling particularly hungry with the heat rushing into her stomach. She pressed a hand to her eyes and blew out a breath to try and clear her head.

It didn’t help.

Dammit.

“I’m done,” Mirabel called behind her, sounding far too smug for her liking. Isabela sighed, closed her eyes for a moment to count to ten, then turned around under the belief that she was completely and totally composed.

Her eyes landed on Mirabel, casually reclining back in the small pool, and the sound that escaped her throat was closer to a rusty wheel in the village than any noise a human would make.

This wasn’t fair. It wasn’t even a lot of skin, the water partially covered her sister’s breasts, but it was still somehow too much skin—

Hell. She was going to hell. Isabela was about to die on the spot and go straight to hell.

Mirabel had closed her eyes as she sank into the water, but at the noise Isabela made one eye cracked open to survey her; she had the nerve to smile, of all the emotions she could have shown on her face. “Everything okay?” she asked, her voice all innocence.

Isabela wanted to strangle her. “Fine.”

“Okay. You should come in, the water’s nice.”

As if on cue, Isabela’s eyes shot to the edges of the water lapping along Mirabel’s chest. She sucked in a shaky breath and averted her eyes, willing away the blush she was feeling gather in her cheeks.

“That,” she said, and if her voice cracked a little bit, she could only pray Mirabel didn’t notice, “doesn’t sound like such a bad idea, actually.”