#may or may not clean up the drawing a bit more cleaner but then again I’m lazy as fuck !!

[rradical]

Hi hiii hope you're doing great !! Asking for a request again hope it's ok...if you feel like it I'd love to see Eun-Hyeok and and Eun-Yoo content, they rlly are the siblings ever to me 😔💕

them !!!!!

[theambivalentagender]

My Comics Process

I've seen other people post an overview of their comic making process, so I figured I'd put up my own for Valley Echoes. Fair warning, a lot of this is probably good examples of what you really shouldn't do. There's bits to it I need to tweak. But overall this is just what works for me.

Step 1: Borderline Maladaptive Daydreaming

I have a general outline of upcoming comics and plot points, mostly in my head, partially written down in a Notepad file named "ejfiejfeij." Sometimes I'll see something like an incorrect quote or headcanon that inspires a part of a comic, and when that happens I'll try to take note of the original creator of said inspiration to credit later.

Several of my comics have been literally inspired by weird things that have happened while playing modded Stardew - one good example being this bit.

Step 2: Sketch Concept

I don't always do this stage in full for every comic - sometimes I just know exactly how things are going to go. But a lot of the time I like doing it because it's a quick way to note down specific visual ideas I have for upcoming comics so I can save time once I get to them.

Funny enough I don't really write scripts for my comics. Again, probably something I should do, but I find writing out scripts actually makes it harder for me to get ideas out fluidly. A script feels like I have to lock down a lot of details right away - that isn't necessarily the truth, it's just how it feels for me, and can result in me not being able to just get the ideas out of my head.

I purposefully keep this stage very, very simplified and loose, mostly for the above reasons. The idea is to keep as much detail-oriented thought away from this stage of the process as possible. You'll see I use certain quick markers to differentiate characters - Shane's sideways hair triangle, Emily's curl, Clint's beard, and Zeke's zig-zaggy hair.

I may write down specific dialogue lines that I know for sure I want in the final comic, but mostly it's just general dialogue ideas or reminders to myself what the "bit" is supposed to be if it's not immediately obvious. I'll add small direction lines if they're important, and quick speech bubbles as a reminder that a character is talking offscreen.

Apologies for my abysmal handwriting. It's readable to me, and in this stage that's really all that matters.

Step 3: Detailed Sketch

This is the part where I finally sit down and take a couple of hours to do the initial comic sketch. Sometimes the final version of this won't entirely match up with the concept. Rarely, I've added or removed panels up until the final image. In most cases, though, this is where the overall comic gets locked in.

I use CSP's 3d models and assets for most of my scenes. I have saved models for each of the characters' proportions, which I find is super great for keeping relative heights consistent. Most of the time when I need props or other set pieces in a scene I'll just use various primatives, however there was absolutely no way in hell I was going to be able to pull that off for the camera, so that's its own asset.

I don't carry my notes over from concept to this stage, I mostly just refer back to the concept layer when I need to add those bits. I've been trying to get more in the habit of sketching out word bubble blocks at this stage to get an idea of how much space I need to leave in each panel. I didn't do this for this comic, which did lead to issues with the one panel where Zeke is trying to walk naturally, but oh well.

Step 4: "Inking"

I like to call this stage "inking" but it's really doing the final clean up layer. This is where I start messing with vectors.

There's actually a lot of steps to this that I can't quite show in this final layer version. Here, I start with just drawing over the lines in the detailed sketch layer with my "inking" pen. I try to keep my lines clear and tend to draw over crossing lines so I can erase the overflow later for a cleaner look. Throughout this stage I'm doing a lot of line adjustments, simplifying where I can, just to make the next part easier.

After I've done all that, I'll go back and adjust line thicknesses. I could probably do a whole post on that alone, but in general I lean toward thicker lines, thickening the lines of clothing, hair, eyebrows, and eyes in particular, as well as thinning wrinkle and other small detail lines.

Step 4: Base Color

I have a pallet of base black-grey-white colors for Valley Echoes, each of which I use consistently for different details. For example, nearly all characters get the same "skin" color (exceptions being Maru, Jas, and Demetrius, who each have their own). Zeke and Shane's hair and common outfit colors are also saved, as well as a few for other recurring characters.

Other than that, I try to "color" according to what needs to stick out in a scene and just trying to make sure grayscale tones aren't too similar next to each other and muddied. If two characters are going to be standing next to each other frequently I try to give them noticeably different shades in their clothing.

The process for this is slightly different for in-color comics. I also have pallets saved for those comics.

Step 5: Details

This is where I'll go back in and add other details that can't simply be added with fill and other tools. In this case, I added Shane's stubble, the blushing in several panels, and Clint turning blue with effect lines.

This is also where I'll add a background. Again, I try to keep the backgrounds so that they don't muddy the foreground elements.

Step 5: Dialogue

This is the bit where I'm likely going to do some revamping in the future. CSP's base dialogue tools are...not great. I'm considering finding another program for doing this bit.

I've also been trying to learn more about methods for dialogue bubble placement in general. This is the bit that can be the most frustrating for me, but overall it works.

How to write the dialogue itself would probably take up multiple posts in of itself. It's a bit instinctual to me because I have much more experience with writing in general. There's also a lot you can say about how splitting dialogue into different bubbles changes how those lines are interpreted, etc.

In this case, a chunk of this comic is taken directly from the original SDV scene, slightly altered for timing purposes. When it comes to canon scenes, it variates on how strictly I follow the dialogue.

After this step, it's just splitting each of these into separate images for each panel and uploading to Tumblr. And I guess that's my very messy, still in development process.

[sania-pus]

Handy cigar cutter

Whether you're new to cigars or a seasoned expert, preparing cigars is portion of the habit.To ensure a good quality cigarette smoke you should choose the cigar cutter meticulously as certain cigar shapes suit selected cutters and different cutters allow for different takes in. Every cigar smoking efficianado has his or her personal preferences, so it is important to examine up so that you can take full advantage of your cigar! Every single cutter has its technique which, in the event that done properly, can assure the clearest cut possible. Tap the newly cut end to remove any unfastened tobacco. Cutting beyond this line could potentially cause your cigar to fall apart. Once you have chosen the depth associated with cut, apply robust, swift pressure to the guillotine to ensure a new clean, accurate surface. There should be a weak line around the finish of your cigar, where cap finish ings and the cigar begins. Open the supplice and place the cigar into the cutter approximately, but not beyond, the particular faint line. Utilizing a cigar punch is very easy. How to minimize cigars with a stogie reduceter Its worth noting that cigar cutters might be best when they are cleaned together with sharpened regularly; typically the sharper the cutter, the cleaner the cut. For those who like wider cigars or even irregularly shaped pipes such as for example torpedoes or perhaps pyramids, a cigar cutter is really a more suitable option. Guillotine blades have a restricted diamond ring gauge and can only allow for one shape, although cigar cutters will be a lot more adjustable and can therefore make more dexterous cuts. After getting set the position, click the scissors on the cigar and apply quick, direct pressure. Stray bits can then be trimmed. To utilize cigar scissors, a little bit moisten the limitation of the cigar with the mouth and again find the faint series where you pull the particular cap off and do not exceed that. Utilize scissors to bring a line round the cigar at the degree you need. However , be aware that poor quality V-Cut cigar cutters often neglect to lower the cigar sufficiently, resulting in an wrinkled burn that may wreck even the highest quality lighters. A well-made V- cut ter can easily pierce relatively considerably in to the cigar's end, thus promoting increased circulation. Whereas some sort of guillotine cuts directly through the cigar, a V-Cut cigar cutter cuts the narrow wedge from your cap. V-Cut cigar cutter, also known as notch cutters or pitching wedge cutters, look much like guillotines, however the big difference lies in the kwithind of trim. To cut with the V- reduce, hold the cigar in one hand along with the cutter in the various other, pulling the end for the cutter away from the stogie. For those with the bit of, the rewards regarding V-Cut cigar cutter cigars are very satisfying as many declare that this method reduces bitterness. Mastering a cigar cutter is a little tougher than other cutters, when time is of the utilization of, it may be safer to work with a guillotine. This should make a notch in the cap of one's cigar. Place the cigar inside, line-up the blade together with your preferred depth plus squeeze the cutter machine shut in a single quick motion. The cigar punch has its own limitations. In addition , small holes ensure that fewer pieces of smoke enter into your mouth. The smaller opening restricts air flow and then the cigar may step out more often. There are several different sizes of punch cutters available for cutting smaller round holes in the cap. For stogie lovers who try some fine narrow draw, some sort of punch cutter is a good choice. This method involving opening cigars is simply not as invasive while other technique beds and for that reason means that there may be less chance of destroying the structure of the cigar. Furthermore to the, cigar punches can only be utilized for round cap cigars which has a ring gauge sizing over 40. To work with the device, remove the cover and press typically the tube cutter upon the cap from the cigar, twisting to get better results as you go. Most punch blades come with a cap. To take away the cap through the cutter, simply hit the trunk. The result should be a small cylindrical pit in the cap which may be widened by echoing the twisting motion in the areas. The most effective tools for reducing cigars! The cigar cutter is streamlined and durable with a magnificent look, excellent quality and sturdy design. The V-Cut cigar cutter is really a several in 1 direct cut V-shaped used vinyl cutter, this cigar cutter includes a spring crammed release design that means it is easy to operate the cigar cutter using one hand. https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0B95ZT14B?ref=myi_title_dp

[williamwalkerdesign]

September 15th, 2022

One week of blogging… I still don’t care for it, but it is what it is I suppose. We do what we must in order to further ourselves. Maybe if nothing else I can use this as an excuse to free-write more consistently again, but about proper things. Like dragons, and magic, and young, up-and-coming heroes; yeah, the proper things in life. Enough rambling; I do that in order to fill space and because my brain is strange. Also I guess to some extent I also tend to get thoughts rolling a bit cleaner on subject material I want to focus on if I don’t restrict myself to only writing out the boring “correct” stuff. 

But anyway, I'm still sick (I personally think it’s strep) and didn’t go to classes today. This entire week is turning into a giant mulligan I’m afraid. However, I did want to ponder a slight bit more into what I was getting at yesterday. I don’t want to come across as pretentious sounding or akin to some philosophy major who’s, “found out the meaning of life,” but I truly am curious at what point the consumption stops for one thing or another. For example, I slept the majority of the day and didn’t do much aside from clean and recuperate. My friend did stop by and bring me tea and soup for my throat though, which I was beyond grateful for. But I specifically chose to fill my day with reading and Youtube videos, both about design practices and about various debate topics for background noise while I was cleaning up. But in the off times I would find myself humming a song I know, or lyrics would pop into my head of their own volition, and so even though I was choosing not to listen to music today, it was still lingering in the back of my head.

Even things that aren’t music I feel go into this territory; as a coffee drinker I almost habitually have a cup in the morning, or even some afternoons as a caveat to me working diligently on something, but I sometimes have to consider whether or not I have more when I notice that the grounds are getting low. I need to think about whether or not I liked the current brand I had, or if I should look into getting a different one. I even thought about how much I was wasting at one point when I solely used the Keurig K-cups, and decided to switch over to a reusable filter and grind my own beans. 

I guess what I’m getting at is I’m unsure where to draw the line. Is this entire process still a part of the coffee consumption? At what point do I consider whether brand consumption takes a role in my choices? Sustainability via my class teachings and adverts is a completely different area, but could/should it still be considered a part of this coffee consumption process?

Maybe there isn't a clear cutoff, but it’s an interesting thing I may want to explore further into, if not in this project then in others.

[avenuesuit41]

Cleansing

Otherwise, when there's a facility like a spa or a sauna, then I would positively take advantage to do this the last hour before bedtime. But then again, you don’t actually wish to choose up your complete mattress. Technically speaking, you'll find a way to bring you SAMINA mattress, too. Our mattress is out there in 2 packing containers, 41 inches long, 24 inches extensive, and 24 inches tall. This undoubtedly has a positive impact on the air pollution, of the paint, and the furniture. Very often, hotels are furnished, with pieces of furniture from China and different overseas countries the place we’re speaking about 500, 1000 rooms. Emacs - A in style text editor used primarily on Unix-based methods by programmers, scientists, engineers, college students, and system directors. Sometimes the smartphone digicam wouldn’t shoot via the touchscreen underwater, and the side buttons had to be used. Compact to journey with fitting right into a small cloth microfiber case, which also doubles as a lens cleaner. verimark magnetic window cleaner People who hike might have handheld GPS, while others may desire a automobile GPS case. You’ll want to share product pictures on platforms like Instagram. There, you can partner up with micro-celebrities and influencers to get your merchandise in front of established audiences. Marine radar methods are another trending product experiencing significant growth. The development is hotter at some occasions than others, but folks usually search for marine navigation and gadget accessories all year long. The market can additionally be huge and is projected to grow by $147.29 million from 2021 to 2026, at a CAGR of three.59%. We should be pondering also with reference to your own well being, which is so essential from the mattress and mattress purchase may have a positive impression on the exposure of exposing old mattresses. You will decelerate this course of substantially particularly with us at SAMINA, our mattress lasts for 20 years. If for any cause, one thing is worn out, all the natural supplies have a sure lifespan however it relies upon somewhat bit on your environment the place you would possibly be. You don’t have to replace the whole mattress, you’re solely changing part of the mattress. Dildos are worn and loved by folks of all sexual orientations and genders. Check out SAMINA’s web site to view top-notch sleep units and purchase more research and sources on how to optimize sleep. Change the sheets typically to maintain the bed clean and free of dust mites. Deep clean mattresses and pillows frequently to extend usage. Make certain that where I sleep is capable of giving me peace, consolation, and privateness. Use a soft fabric to buff until flour is gone and the floor is shiny. Instead of utilizing a cleansing cloth, this technique requires the utilization of a small part from a flour sack. Use the flour from inside the sack when cleaning stainless-steel surfaces. Baking soda is considered one of a quantity of DIY cleaners for chrome steel, but it is messy. The upside to this cleansing technique is that once clean, your fridge will appear to be it just came off the showroom ground. The club soda cleans the floor of your equipment and supplies a beautiful shine. James - Open-source proxy tool for checking and mapping requests with http as properly as https. Works properly with iTerm, JetBrains merchandise, Vim and so forth. PaintCode - PaintCode is a novel vector drawing app that generates Objective-C or Swift code in actual time, performing as a bridge between builders and graphic designers. Cacher - Cloud-based, team-enabled code snippet supervisor with Gist sync, VSCode/Atom/Sublime packages and Mac/Windows/Linux/Web purchasers.

[bisgaardxu4]

Caring For Your Cat Can Become Easy With These types of Tips!

http://ask.bacagadget.com/index.php?qa=user&qa_1=levinemcelroy88 Cats have got been beloved domestic pets for many hundreds of years. Cats have inspired the songs, poems and visual disciplines of countless cultures. Figuring out this, you can't blame cats intended for feeling merely a little bit superior! The tips below is precious. Grooming is an important part of your cat's care. A new cat requires on a regular basis brushing and brushing. If this is usually done frequently, your own cat's coat may be much solution. It can slice down on dropping and spitting up hairballs, too. To keep shed hair along down, plus have a beautiful cat, you must develop your cat frequently. If you include a male cat, it is essential to have him or her neutered before he goes into temperature. When male felines start maturing, they are going to begin to spray throughout the house. It scents like ammonia in addition to is hard to be able to remove. Having your current male cat neutered can help to be able to prevent this from happening. Avoid staying kept awake by simply your cat romping through the home at night. If you first get your kitten, establish some sort of habit of placing it to cargo area inside a comfortable crate which has a nice cargo area, cat litter box, food and water at nighttime. When you start this specific early, your cat will appreciate having its own safe, cozy room. If your own cat is discerning about drinking water, invest in a new cat fountain. These battery operated or even plug in fountains continue to keep water circulating in addition to aerated. Many cats and kittens prefer this. A new cat fountain may help keep the cat out of the destroy and the particular toilet. It will likewise help prevent your cat from pawing drinking water onto the flooring looking for fresh water. If you definitely must bathe a cat, set every thing up in advance. Setup two tubs large enough to soak a cat. Fill up them with comfortably comfortable water. Set your current open bottle of cat shampoo, a new heavy towel, and also a secure pet carrier close by. Use heavy rubber mitts. Grasp your cat by the scruff of the neck. Soak, shampoo and rinse quickly in a single tub. Dunk to rinse throughout the second hot tub. Wrap the cat securely in the particular towel and location in the provider to dry. Is usually your cat continuously munching on your home plants? If therefore we have a fix regarding this. Growing oat grass or catnip yourself will help tempt your cats apart from your vegetation. Giving them plant life they can eat in addition to like will support draw those to individuals plants again and again. Perform not feed your current cat any type of human foodstuff that contains bones in it. In case you are giving your cat rooster or fish, make sure to remove the bone beforehand to stop a choking risk. Chop the food of which you serve straight into small bits to make it easier to digest to your cat. Consider individuals expensive cat cover boxes. There are usually cat litter packing containers now that allow an individual to have little interaction with these people. This can end up being just the thing for anyone that is tired associated with cleaning a litter box box. But be careful, as that they may not work just as easily since they state to. If you can, make certain there is a come back policy and don't lose the sales receipt. You may discover you want the out-dated style! A cat's nails can grow really quickly. That they sharpen their nails by scratching upon different surfaces such as a scratching blog post. You can help avoid your cat destroying your furnishings by clipping their very own nails often. This will help to discourage your current cat from damaging at different issues around your residence. When you are usually washing a cat cat litter box, it is definitely a good idea to make use of basic cleaning soap and water. It may seem that it would likely be more sanitary to use a harsh cleaner just like bleach or hydrogen, but all that will do will be create a smell that the cat will certainly find offensive. In order to make sure your current kitten is properly socialized to individuals, begin early within his life, concerning ten to twelve weeks of time. Be sure that he or she is handled and even petted by individuals in his family and even by others just as well. When he is older, this individual will be a calmer, friendlier cat. Several people do not realize that it must be properly normal for you to consider cats on strolls so they can get exercise in addition to clean air. There are special harnesses produced for you in order to use with your cat. If you use the type that were made for puppies, there is a chance your cat can get away. Most cats are prone to wax build upwards and ear mites. You can aquire an option at the family pet store that can clean out your pet cats ears. You set a couple droplets in each involving your cats the ears and after that hold these people closed while rubbing them for a min. When you let it go, stand back or perhaps you will get included in the liquid when your cat shakes its head. Your own cat probably thinks that it is your head of the household. These guidelines may help your cat figure out which the true boss is definitely. His passion of pet cats is a good one, therefore enjoy

[archerdaryl]

I’ll Be Delicate

The reader shows Daryl Dixon that there’s still peace to be found in this world with soft words and delicate fingers.

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader Word Count: 2.1k (approximately) Tags: sweet and soft with some humour n gloom, sfw Notes: Anon requested a simple hair braiding fic and I had to be extra and turn it into an entire comfort fic. I’m not sorry. 

@bakedcrispss​ @phoenixblack89​ @btsiguess-kpop​

Lanterns burnt low and the smell of sage and tobacco lingered in the air throughout the small but comfortable basement on the far side of Alexandria. In the middle of the room was a large sofa, plush with semi-clean clothes stacked up on one half while a sleepy Belgian Malinois lay on the other, still and complaisant. 

Daryl Dixon, on the other hand, sat at his makeshift desk by the window. In one hand, a sharp dagger, the other an arrow he had been cutting away at for the past hour. His skin was pink and freckled and his hair damp, freshly showered after a gruelling day outside of the walls that ended in blood and tears. 

Losing someone in the community was never easy. He almost felt he should have been thankful it wasn’t somebody he was particularly close to, but that shit hardly mattered since he and Rick had to go back and let the poor bastard’s wife know he wasn’t coming home. 

He couldn’t bring himself to think about it now that he was back within the safety of Alexandria, not with all he had waiting for him there. He didn’t think he could cope with where his mind would take him, so instead he took to working with his hands — carving and cutting until his mind emptied and he didn’t have to think at all.

Eventually the stairs creaked and Daryl glowered to himself, figuring it would be Carol checking in on him again. He loved her, she was his best friend, but sometimes she just did too much. When the inevitable knock on wood came, he looked up ready to grunt in acknowledgment. Instead, his features softened, his chest heaving with relief.

It was you.

The corners of your mouth quirked into a sweet smile as you stepped through the doorway. He noticed it didn’t reach your eyes and he reached out to you, taking your hand and gently pulling you closer to him where he could wrap a muscular arm around the back of your thighs and look up at you with those crystalline blues. 

You placed your arm around his shoulder, fingers immediately finding their way to the hair at the nape of his neck. You played with it absentmindedly, your sole focus on the man before you, eyes so full of curiosity and care. 

“Now how is it you’re cleaner than I am?” 

Daryl smirked in response and squeezed you lightly. You were certainly grubbier than he was, but he didn’t care one bit considering grubby was his default state. The old shirt you were wearing was torn at your midriff and it took him a moment to realise it was one of his. He pulled at the tear carefully, thankful only to find a graze rather than something worse.

“Yer back early.” He finally acknowledged.

You hummed in response, fingers now tenderly raking through the archer’s hair to reveal more of the gruff face you liked so much. You took in his features, tracing every scar and drawing together every freckle. 

“Mich’ radioed through. Hilltop had one too many people to spare anyway.”

He narrowed his eyes slightly, but didn’t question it. If Michonne wanted to grant him a little bit of peace after the day they’d had, who was he to say no? Besides, Hell itself would freeze over before he ever turned you away. 

“I like you like this.” You continued, “All soft and warm.”

“Yeah?”

A year or so ago he would have resented being called soft. It was a fighting word, something his idiot brother would use to provoke him into doing something reckless, but when it came from your lips it felt like he was being awarded a Purple Heart. 

Sure, you were talking about his shower fresh skin, but that didn't matter. You reminded him that he had been brave and let you in, that after years of being alone and afraid, he had earned the right to be soft. 

Pulling away from his grip, your hands came to your belt buckle. You unfastened it and slowly shimmied out of the dark blue jeans that were stained with speckles of old Walker blood. That old shirt of Daryl’s you’d been wearing, tucked in at the waist, fell free halfway down your thighs.

“Like a damn dress on you, girl.” 

You shot a playful scowl at him and sauntered towards the couch, moving the pile of clothes to another surface before collapsing onto the cushion with a grunt. Dog perked up and you scratched him behind the ears.

“Not like you to complain.” You sighed. 

Watching you like this, comfortable and free, Daryl felt something building in his chest. It wasn’t panic. Maybe it was fear? He wasn’t sure what it was, but he knew he wanted to wrap himself up in you like you were wrapped up in his shirt. Anything to keep you close so he never had to worry about you not coming home.

“Weren’t complainin’.”

It was your turn to reach out to him, coax him over from his attempts of escape. You may have been exhausted, but losing anyone from the community was a nasty reminder of how fragile this life really was. 

Daryl stood and mosied over. Dog was comfortable right where he was next to you, though Daryl wouldn’t try to get rid of him even if he wanted to. You shuffled up a bit, angling yourself against the inner corner before tugging on his forearm — a silent plea to give into you and just be. He spent so much of his time looking out for you, making sure you were okay that it also became a way of making himself feel better. You loved him for it, but you desperately wanted to take care of him too.

He finally sat. It was a start. You kept your fingers on his skin, your thumb caressing it gently and he turned his head to watch your hand at work. His eyes soon drifted to your legs. They were bruised but still strong and inviting. You pulled at him again and he finally met your gaze. 

“I’m right here.” You assured him, “I’m not going anywhere.”

But you could. That was what was tearing him apart.

Daryl eventually nodded and shuffled up, taking your legs and placing them over his lap so that you were practically sitting on him but not quite. He loved the weight of you, loved you dressed in nothing but one of his old band shirts so that he could flex his hand against the warmth of your thighs. You were his anchor, keeping him from spiralling just by being right there in your arms. 

With one arm wrapped around his broad shoulders, you used your free hand to trace the far side of his jaw with your thumb. He leaned into your touch and you sweetly kissed his shoulder before pulling him in closer to you, the hand behind his head now weaving into his hair again.

“Think Dog is getting jealous.”

A soft snort escaped him then, “I’d be jealous too.”

“Don’t need to be. You got me.”

He adjusted his position, allowing himself to lean into you a little bit more. You continued to play with his hair, twirling it between your fingers. The tension in his body slowly began to melt away, evident from the long exhale that drew from his lips. 

“Still don’ know how the fuck tha’ happened.”

And that was the truth. To this day Daryl had no idea what you saw in him. You could tell him to his face -- in fact you had -- and he’d still question it. He’d grown up believing he was no good but even if that were the case then, again, who the fuck was he to deny you? 

“The world works in mysterious ways Daryl Dixon.” A smirk tugged at your lips, “That and I had to make the first move.”

“Shuddup.” He retorted quickly, “Woulda’ done it eventually.”

It was your turn to laugh. Looking back on your journey together, it was honestly miraculous you’d ended up where you were at all. He was oblivious when it came to women and you weren’t exactly someone that was easy to pin down. Your affection for him snuck up on you, but once it hit you it did so with full force and you weren’t going to risk not knowing.

“I almost wish I’d waited now.”

“‘M glad ya’ didn’t.“ He confessed, squeezing your thigh with his calloused hand, “‘M glad you’re here.”

You pressed a kiss to his temple then wiggled, adjusting your position so that you could angle yourself against him comfortably. You could use both of your hands to play with his hair now. He didn’t even try to pretend he didn’t like it, because he did. He liked all of the attention you gave him. 

“So, how would you have done it?”

“Dunno. Don’ matter now.” His brow quirked as he glanced at you, “I kissed ya first. Don’ that count for somethin’?”

Well, there was that. It was one of few times Daryl had truly caught you off guard. You were pissed off about something, wouldn’t stop going on and on at him even though it wasn’t his fault. 

“In my defence, you kissed me to shut me up.”

“Worked didn’ it?”

“Haven’t gotten rid of me since.” 

Delicate fingers had taken a few thin strands of his hair, tucking them one behind the other aimlessly to form a subtle braid as you both reminisced. You sometimes couldn’t believe how long his hair had gotten, but you quite liked it. You never took too much off when he let you cut it. 

“Wouldn’t ever.” He mumbled shyly, “Ain’t gon’ get luckier than this.”

“Not sure I’d call it luck. Been through too damn much for the world not to pay it forward.” You truly believed your words as they spilled from your lips, “We deserve a bit of good. You deserve it.”

Whether he agreed or not, he wasn’t sure how to respond. If it were true, he had already gotten that little bit of good by finding you. He would be perfectly happy if that was all the good he ever got in this new world of blood and rot. He didn’t need anything more. He couldn’t help but wonder if you felt the same. 

You were partially preoccupied, braiding his hair gently piece by piece and savouring the sweet moment between you both. His hand caressed your thigh, traced circles with his fingers while you leaned into each other’s touch. It set your skin aflame, poked coals in the pit in your stomach, but you pushed that feeling down until when or if he pulled you in.

Truthfully, you didn’t think much about the future anymore. You couldn’t afford to. It put you on edge, made you panic and do stupid things. It was easier to live in the moment and appreciate what you had, and waking up to Daryl everyday was more than you ever expected to have when you were first taken in at Alexandria. Hell, you felt lucky to make a few friends after being on your own for so long. 

You sighed happily as you combed out the loose braid with your fingers and began again, taking thicker pieces of clean dark hair. He smelled like your shampoo which tickled you a little, but you didn’t complain. It wasn’t like he was going to seek out his own. Piece by piece, the braid grew and you could feel him relax further, the circles he was drawing on your thigh growing slower. You bet that if you turned to look, his eyes had closed. 

“The hell you doin’ girl?” He finally mumbled. 

He always called you that. The way he said it made it feel like there was supposed to be a my in front of it. Sometimes if you were being especially irritating he’d slip a lil in there as if that was supposed to deter you, but it never did.

“Shhh. Stay still.” The response came with a soft chuckle. 

As you finished another braid, you admired your work with a grin. His eyes flit open as if he knew you were up to something, brows soon furrowing as he looked at you. It wasn’t long until they relaxed, that smile of yours turning him into putty in your hands. 

“Do I wanna know?”

“Do you wanna know I’ve been braiding your hair for the last… however long.” Your words were dry, bordering on teasing, “No, probably not.”

That infamous scowl of his tugged at his grizzly features, though there was no bark to his bite. You cupped his face, gently coaxing it towards you. 

“This suits you.”

He thought you suited him too. 

[novelconcepts]

I am not sure if you have talked about this before but how do you think after moving back to America, Dani got in touch with Judy again. And if she did, what was their first meeting like with Dani introducing Jamie?

“You’re sure about this?” Jamie leans back, hands in her pockets, gazing at the serene white house, third on its block. “Could still go around the corner and wait, if you like. Saw a little shop...”

She trails off. Dani suspects her body language speaks for itself, all locked jaw and slight tremble. 

He wouldn’t have noticed, she thinks, and the rush of hot grief is so sudden, she has to close her eyes. Jamie hesitates, leans in until her shoulder presses lightly against Dani’s, lowers her voice.

“Whatever you want, Poppins. Reckon I can play nice as a friend as well as--”

“No.” She finds she can’t look at the house directly. It’s much easier, turning her eyes to Jamie. Much easier to search her face for signs Jamie isn’t okay with this, despite what she’s been saying all afternoon. 

She finds nothing but a slight smile, a furrow of Jamie’s brow. Jamie, holding honesty at the forefront as always. Jamie, who offered her company, and has--for months--shown no sign of flagging in her promise to see this adventure through. Wherever it may take them.

Wherever.

“No,” she repeats, her voice as firm as she can make it. “I’m not here to...I’m not going to...”

Play that role again, she can’t say, but she can tell from the way Jamie nods it’s coming across. I’m not here to be Danielle, she doesn’t say, and Jamie’s hand brushes her hip in silent solidarity. 

“Whoever you need me to be. And we don’t have to stay a minute longer than you want.”

It pains her, that Jamie would put that on the table--whoever you want me to be. Jamie’s told her all about her one and only brush with what she had, once, considered real love. How she’d told that girl the very same. How she’d seen it through, as Jamie does with all undertakings she values, to the very end. She’d been who that girl needed her to be--and she’d been the same for the women who had come after, to a lesser degree. A fumble in the dark. An agreement to never bring it up again. A test. A lantern. A buried memory. 

“You,” she tells Jamie now, “are you. And I’m me. And if that’s not enough for her...”

Jamie nods again. “Lead the way, then.”

She remembers the house being bigger, somehow. Cleaner. Remembers the porch sprawling open to offer more space for rocking chairs and bunched-up bodies clutching glasses of iced tea. She remembers the lawn extending out and out, littered with discarded bicycles and baseball gear. 

She remembers Eddie, knees bent, hands pressed into the concrete behind his reclining form. Remembers the way he’d greet her outside every day of summer, the light reflecting off his crooked glasses. The way he’d smile, turn his head, shout through the screen door: “Mom! Danielle’s here!”

No one shouts for her now. Nothing but the rap of her own fist heralds her arrival. No one is looking for Danielle today, and she’s grateful, because they certainly wouldn’t find her. Not with all the weeds of memory sprung up around the girl she’d been. Not with the jungle of unease growing thick around the woman she is. 

“Oh my--”

Judy’s older. So much older than she ought to be, Dani’s absence contained within little more than a year. There are creases Dani doesn’t recognize around her mouth, silver tucked into the muted red of her hair. A year, she thinks, without a son does this to a person.

A year without a daughter.

The screen door swings open so sharply, it catches Jamie along the hip, nearly tips her off the stoop. Dani’s hand closes around her wrist, an easy reflex months in the making, though Jamie’s already shifted her balance and adjusted her expression. Not irritation, not pain--a welcoming little smile, a quiet expression that says, Not here to make a fuss. Not here to be noticed, even. 

She waits for it to spill out of Judy’s mouth--a shocked exhalation of her full name--but Judy’s arms are already around her, and her voice seems capable of no more than a swallowed sob. No one, Dani thinks, has ever hugged her the way Judy does. Her own mother couldn’t manage it.

She’s folding. She’s folding before either of them can speak a single word, her heart careening behind her sweater, and if she closes her eyes--if she lets herself press into Judy’s arms, inhale the scent of fresh coffee and clean clothes--she can almost forget...almost forget...

“Honey,” Judy breathes, “how have you been?”

How. Not where. Not how could you. One simple word, summing it all up. Dani makes a choked sound, nearly a laugh, and lets one hand swing hopelessly out to the left. 

Jamie catches it without a sound. 

Judy is stepping back as though embarrassed, smoothing down her blouse, eyes wet. “You--your mother said you were traveling.” There is remarkably little accusation in that sentence, Dani thinks. Remarkably little offense. You didn’t tell me, but she did, and it’s all right. It’s all right that you couldn’t. 

“Europe,” she says croakily. “England, mostly. Got a job--”

“You look...” Judy trails off, peering into her face, and it’s small, the recognition. Small, but there in the parting of her lips, the slackening of her jaw. Your eye, she imagines Judy breathing, what’s happened to your eye, sweetheart?

“It’s been a long time,” Dani says, a bit shakily. “Lots to--I mean, if you have the time. I don’t want to intrude.”

Judy takes another heavy step backward, into the house, gesturing emphatically. “Don’t be silly! Don’t--God, Danielle, I’ve wanted to write. Your mother said she didn’t have the address, and I didn’t want to bother you, but...”

Jamie is still holding her hand, she realizes, as Judy’s shocked gaze moves from Dani’s face (Dani’s eye, she knows, the russet brown stark against the pale pink of her cheeks) to Dani’s outstretched arm. Judy takes in this new development for a moment, silently: a solemn young woman in a black knit sweater, the cuffs of her jeans turned neatly up, her sneakers white and her fingers implacably wrapped around Dani’s. Jamie, who smiles that soft, not here to be noticed smile, and inclines her head. 

“Mrs. O’Mara.”

“Hello,” Judy says. Not the way Dani’s mother would say it, not even now--clipped and cold and waiting for explanation. She says it with such an easy air of welcome, her head tipped curiously to the side. “Judy, please.”

“Jamie,” Jamie says, and something in Dani seems to cave inward. Some great, hulking shard of terror seems to dissolve in on itself. She is Judy, and you are Jamie, and I am--I am--

Her? No. Surely not, not with Jamie’s fingers tangled, with Jamie standing just off-center on this strange stage. The whole neighborhood, she realizes, can see her: standing with shoulders hunched, holding a strange woman’s hand, staring at her not-so-mother-in-law with bruised eyes. 

The whole neighborhood can see, and she doesn’t care in the least about any of it except to say--

“Dani. I actually go by Dani these days.” 

These days, like it’s been ten years instead of one. These days, so much grief and fear and love and joy packed into twelve months, she almost can’t comprehend it. Is she really the same woman who packed her bags in secret? Is she really the one who stood as tall as she could at a funeral in a black dress she hadn’t the heart to bring when she ran?

Is she, in fact, her--lonely, beastly, incapable of peace?

Jamie’s hand flexes once, a stroke of her thumb along Dani’s knuckles bringing her home. She draws a shuddering breath. 

“It’s been a long time,” she repeats. “There are...things we could talk about. Stories. If you want. Some of them, I should have...told you a long time ago.”

Judy, looks for a moment, taken aback. Looks, for a moment, like she has been handed a script so far from the one she’s memorized, she might not make it back into the scene at all. 

“Dani,” she says, turning the syllables over in her mouth. “Of course. Dani and--and Jamie.” Her mouth trembles, just once. The name, Dani understands, is so close. Those ie sounds, running parallel. So close, and so different. 

“We don’t have to,” Dani says. “If you’re busy.” If you can’t. I understand can’t. I understand not being able to let something like this in. “I probably should have called--”

“Don’t,” Judy says thickly. Stops. Swallows hard. “Don’t be silly. I’m--I’m just about to start dinner, if you’d like to stay?”

Stay, she doesn’t add, and tell me your stories.

Stay, she doesn’t add, and let me in to this room you always kept so carefully locked.

Stay, she doesn’t add, because we need each other, just a little bit. Maybe just this one last time. 

“Both of you,” Judy adds, when Dani hesitates. There is an understanding in her eyes--and a bewilderment, too--the two warring as she gazes at their profiles standing side by side on this too-small porch. “Jamie. It’s...it’s wonderful to...”

She can’t quite finish. Dani suspects she can’t quite lie. Because maybe it is wonderful to meet Jamie--or maybe it will be--but there is something cruel about asking a mother to gaze into the eyes of a woman who might never have crossed their paths if not for a horrible accident. A sudden tragedy. A grief Judy simply cannot release. 

There is something cruel about asking Judy to look upon Jamie now, but there’s something cruel about asking Dani to carry him forever, too. About asking Dani to shelve her heart in favor of her pain. She won’t do that, not anymore, not for Judy or anyone. There’s no telling how much time she has left, and she will not sacrifice a moment of it being someone she isn’t. 

“It’s okay,” Jamie says quietly. It isn’t entirely clear which of them she’s speaking to, as her fingers tighten around Dani’s, her shoulders angled back, her mouth turned up in that tiny smile that says, This isn’t about me. Jamie, who’d be anyone Dani needs right now. Jamie, who only wants to provide company. Jamie, who knows enough of the story to understand this will not be easy--and genuinely does not mind. 

Dani can see it. She thinks Judy can, too, even as her throat works around a sob. Her eyes are wet, darting from one face to the other. Something seems to solidify in her next breath, drawn deep, let out slowly. 

“Please,” she says, gesturing again for them to follow her in. “Stay.”

“We would love to,” Dani says, and Jamie’s hand does not slide, does not twitch, does not abandon her for even a moment as, together, they step into the house.

[bunsblr]

Tu... torial? Pt. 3

Welcome back to part 3 of my tutorial for anon. In this I will go over perhaps my favourite part - the face. Did you used doodle eyes in your notebook when you were in school? This has the same energy.

This is where things get a little harder to explain because it involves a lot of drawing. I hope you get the general idea though.

Open this in dashboard for best view of the screenshots.

Disclaimer: I have no formal training for any kind of graphics stuff, I work in an office as a receptionist - I serve coffee for a living. I am absolutely self taught and while I consider myself pretty comfortable with photoshop, that doesn’t mean that there isn’t about a gazillion of other things that can be done that I have no idea about. There are people far superior than me in the Sims community. This is just how I do it, with techniques I have picked up through the years. Some things I go over in these will be pretty basic, some things a little more unorthodox. Disclaimer 2: My edits take time. This is what I do to relax, one edit takes several hours for me. Sometimes days :))) Disclaimer 3: My photoshop is in Swedish, which is my first language. I tried my best to find the English translations for every step that I do.

Tools used: The Sims 4, Adobe Photoshop 2020, One by Wacom Pen Tablet (very basic and unfancy).

I start by adding a new empty layer in my Sim layer group, above my base Sim layer.

I use the smudge tool (I always keep my smudge tool on Strength around 30%) on the Sim layer to smudge and soften the eye whites a bit. I only redraw my sim's eyes if I'm changing the direction that they´re lookin, otherwise I just refine the existing eyes. In this case I didn't want her eyes quite as far left as they were. On my Details layer, I use the brush tool, hard small brush with opacity around 70-80%, and start drawing the eyes a little bit further to the right.

I realized I wanted the eye whites to be even whiter, so I added a new layer inbetween the Sim layer and the Details layer. Using a soft brush with lower opacity (29%) I go over the eye whites. The lower opacity allows me to build up the color by going over multiple times, creating a better blend. I then merge this new layer with the Details layer because there’s no reason for having these on separate layers going forward.

I turn the opacity of the brush tool back up and continue to draw the eyes. At this point they're looking rather creepy...

But looking much better after some added dots of “shine” with a white color (not full on white, slightly muddier)

I turn down the opacity of the brush again, take a soft brush and a dark grey color and go around the whole eye to add some shadow.

Turn up the opacity of the brush again (I know it’s a lot of back and forth with this, it’s just how I work) and work around the eyes. I clean up the make up and add some lashes. I also add some dept to the eyebrows using a slightly darker color than the existing strands and draw in some new ones here and there.

Time to clean up the nose (eeeew). I start with the Smudge tool on the sim layer, strength around 15-20%, and smudge the pixels a little.

On the details layer, I clean up the nose further by drawing in the nostrils a bit, and even out the colors around and on the nose, picking up color with the eyedrop tool and going over with a low opacity brush wherever I think the color is a little uneven.

With the lips I sharpen the shape, add some highlights on the top of the lipline, clean up the corners of the mouth, redraw the teeth and add those squiggly circles on the top and bottom lip. They look a bit weird up close but zoomed out it will look glosssssy :) I pick up existing colors on the lip with the eyedrop tool and work with both lower opacity soft brushes and higher opacity hard brushes here.

Now I feel happy with the face details. Here is a comparison of the face before and after. A little bit cleaner and smoother now!

Time to throw some shade. I always start under the chin (because for some reason that's the most fun). I create a new layer in the Sim group, name it shadows, and I use the pen tool again and make a path along the jawline, sectioning off the neck from the face. I went over the basics of using the pen tool in pt 1. This is.…may be an unortodox way to do it. I'm sure a lot of people would see this as an unecessary tricky step. It is however my favorite way of doing it.

I made two paths for this first work area. Meaning I first made a full path on the neck above the necklace, closed that path and then started a new one below the necklace to include the chest area where the skin is showing (separating it from the clothes). When both my paths were closed I pressed ctrl + Enter to turn them both into selections at the same time. As you can see I didn’t bother following the “edge” of the sim, you will see why later.

I eyedrop a color from a darker area of her skin, then I choose a darker, more saturated color in the palette that comes up.

I use a big soft brush with opacity around 30%. I start to build up the shadow under the chin, with more color right under the jawline and less further out. This is where my pen tool selection comes to good use, it keeps the jawline nice and sharp even though I'm using a soft brush to get the fading effect on other parts of the shadow. As we already decided, the light comes from the left in this picture, thus the chin shadow ends up to the right. I use a smaller brush to go around the clothing line, and under the necklace. The tighter the clothes, the smaller the shadow.

 I noticed the neck was lighter on the very side of the neck, and that interferes with my shadow. Now of course I could go over with the shadow color a couple of more times in that spot, but I prefer to correct the color on the base Sim layer instead for a more even result. So I hide the shadow layer, eyedrop the slightly darker area on the neck (and keep it this time).

It's important to keep the selection while I do this, so I don't paint over something else. You could put this on another layer and just erase if you accidentally go over something you're not supposed to, but since I already have the selection I can just put it on the base Sim layer. I brush over the area a couple of times until the color is how I want it.

While I am at it I also thought the chest area is a little too white and colorless. This often happens on my sim pictures if I’m using a sim with lighter skin. Again I eyedrop a darker color of the skin, but this time I choose a more vibrant version of the color to avoid muckyness when I go over the white.

I set the opacity of the brush to super low and then very carefully go over the whiter areas of the chest a couple of times, avoiding the areas where there are details such as collarbones or cleavage.

I make the Shadow layer visible again and deselect. Now you see how I have painted a little outside the skin area on the neck, because I didn’t follow the edge of the sim with my selection? I quickly fix that by holding Alt and grabbing the layer mask from the base Sim layer, and dropping it onto the Shadow layer.

Now these two layers have the same layer mask! And it's time to bring out the pen tool again, and make a path around the face.

With the face selected I start painting my face shadows. I put shadow on the side of the face that´s away from our imaginary light source.

I paint shadows under any hair that covers the face, and add a shadow on the side of the nose that´s facing away from the light. This usually takes me a couple of tries to get right, like this here wasn’t it...

I use a 30something % opacity on my brush and then 30something % opacity on a soft eraser brush and go back and forth with these until I get a nice blend.

Got the nose shadow looking decent, and add a little shadow in the eye… socket?… closest to the nose. I make sure that this doesn´t go over the eye itself and interferes with any colors there. I want to keep the eyes clear.

I deselect. Now we´ve got some little flaws here and there because my selection didn’t line up perfectly. I blend these with the smudge tool.

Better!

Looking fine gurl!

As I mentioned it’s a little hard to explain some steps, like the eyes and the lips, because it is just drawing until I like the result. I hope you find this useful though, and please send me an ask if you’re wondering about anything!

[supercasey]

So I've been playing The Hades Game like fucking mad for the last few weeks, and although I'm not very far in it (at least, I don’t think I am; I’ve only beat Hades once!), I'm absolutely in love with it! Anyways, a certain idea has been kicking around in my head for awhile now, so I thought I'd share it with y'all; feel free to tell me what you think of it! (Warning: spoilers for when you beat Hades the first time!)

Anyways, I've already seen a really cool AU post for if Demeter raised Zagreus on the surface by herself (which you can find HERE; please check it out, the outfit for Zag alone is an amazing concept, and I love the artwork!!!) but I keep thinking about an AU where, after Zagreus dies at birth, Persephone runs away and takes his wrapped up body with her.

On the surface, she reconnects/reunites with her mother Demeter, and with her aid, the two of them manage to resurrect the newborn baby, though now he has more white in his hair than anything else. After that, Persephone sends Hades a letter to tell him that Zagreus is alive and well (because she actually has some fucking class), before proceeding to raise Zagreus on the surface with her mother, far away from the entrance to hell. The Olympians also help her out a bit, but mostly they just help by hiding Zagreus when it’s necessary.

(The rest is under a cut ‘cus this got a bit long, sorry!)

Years pass in relative peace, until Zagreus is about as old as he is in-game (I think he’s around 20-25ish???) and is living well, working with his mom and grandma to take care of their gardens and live peacefully away from mankind; he especially loves tending to the animals and guiding lost mortals to safety. However, one day while foraging for fruit in the deepest corners of his mother’s signature garden, Zagreus happens across a strange man in long robes, who introduces himself as Thanatos.

The two men get along swimmingly from minute one, and after agreeing to meet with each other again soon, they leave and tell their families/friends all about the experience, having no clue who they are to each other. After all, Thanatos was told growing up that his lord’s first wife died giving birth to their first and only child, who was a stillborn, and Zagreus thinks his father died of disease (his mom didn’t have to heart to tell him anything bad about his dad). Needless to say, they’re gonna be in for quite the shock soon.

Cue Hades losing his shit and calling on Thanatos, Megaera, and Achilles to go find his progeny and bring him home; he gives them special permission to leave the Underworld without any resistance, trusting Than to lead the way back to Zagreus. Achilles is less than thrilled to be performing such a morally grey task for his master, but Meg and Than are eager to prove themselves, so he begrudgingly agrees to help, even if it hurts his conscience to do so.

Persephone and Demeter also freak the hell out on their end, scared shitless by the fact that Death incarnate has just met their son/grandson, and they’re worried that he plans on coming back again soon. Demeter suggests sending Zagreus to live with the Olympians until this all blows over, but Persephone disagrees, wanting her son to stay nearby in case he grows ill (it’s implied that she’s a bit overprotective of him, mostly because she’s afraid of him dying again; this also means she refuses to let him know that he’s in any danger, believing it would only make things worse for him in the long-run). Frustrated but understanding her daughter’s pain all too well, Demeter at least convinces her to call on the Olympians for aid, which Persephone agrees to do.

The gods promise to help of course, but... well, they're low-key lying; they wanna see how this plays out first.

After several days of traveling through hell (literally), the “let’s kidnap Zagreus” gang makes it to the surface, and they immediately head to Persephone’s garden. All this time, Zagreus has no idea that he’s being targeted, so he goes about his chores as usual, only to run into Than again, and hey, he brought some more friends for him to meet! Zagreus is friendly with all of them, being raised to be very polite by his guardians, and while he’s busy chatting with Than and Achilles, he doesn’t notice Meg sneaking behind him. Just as Zagreus is rattling on about how the animals have been faring this summer, Meg stabs Zagreus in the back with a blade coated in Hades’s blood, cursing him to belong to the Underworld again.

With Zagreus now unconscious from a sedative that was mixed with the blood, the trio hurry off with him back to the Underworld, but not without Persephone seeing what they’ve done to her son. Horrified, she begins to sob, and winter arrives in the mortal world without so much as a fall season in-between this and the summertime.

When Zagreus comes to, he finds himself in a bedroom similar to the one he has in the game, but it’s much cleaner and has less objects of personal value to him. Hades is standing at the foot of his bed when he wakes up, and very calmly, Hades tells Zagreus that he’s his father, and that from now on, Zagreus will be living in the Underworld with him and his people, where he so obviously belongs. It’s a shame his mother can’t be here, of course, but they just need to wait awhile, that’s all; surely she’ll come to her senses and return home soon, now that her husband and son are here.

Zagreus jumps out of bed and faces his father as soon as he’s done monologuing, ready to tell him off for what he’s done, but to his shock, Hades hugs him as soon as he’s on his feet, and admits that he’s waited for this day for a long, long time. He asks his son to please just accept that this is his home now, and despite still being a bit surprised (and subtly hugging Hades back because Longing), Zagreus tells him straight up that he can’t, that he has to get home, especially with winter coming in a few months!

Dejected but not overly surprised, Hades simply nods in acceptance, but he still warns Zagreus that it’s no use trying to fight it; he’s stuck here, now and forever, so he may as well get comfortable and try getting along with him, because no one’s going anywhere anytime soon. Zagreus is horrified, but he nods nonetheless, unsure of what to say or do just yet.

Later that night, as Zagreus is struggling to sleep in this new, unfamiliar place, Achilles comes to him and apologizes about what’s happened, and although he can’t magically fix everything for him, he tells Zagreus that it actually is supposedly possible to escape; it’s just that no one’s ever done it before. Driven by his desire for freedom and the thought of reuniting with his mother, Zagreus tells Achilles that he’s going to find a way out, no matter the cost. Achilles congratulates him on his tenacity, but warns him that it won’t be easy. Still, he’s willing to help Zagreus as much as he can.

From then on, I imagine the game playing out very differently from the original, with a rather frazzled and scared Zagreus trying to get home to his mom and grandma, but with none of his training from Achilles in this AU, he has to rely on something his mother taught him; his connection with earth and all it’s inhabitants. Or, in his case, his connection with the spirits of animals (a cross of his dad and mom’s powers). That’s right, I’m making The Hades Game into a fucking Pokemon-ripoff, but still with some rouge-like elements mixed in (mostly with Zagreus not keeping his animals after runs).

Having royally fucked up in not stepping in sooner to protect Zagreus, the gods end up helping him out by sending down animals associated with them for the young god to tame for a run (I’ll come up with them later). They usually offer a selection to choose from, and from there Zagreus can build up a team and use it to try and escape the Underworld.

To replace weapons, I like to think he’d have “signature” animals that can help him out for any of his runs, specifically ones from Achilles, Poseidon, Zeus, Demeter (once he reaches the surface at least once), and eventually even Hades gives him one if they bond together enough ((yes, it’s Cerberus... kinda; it’s a puppy version of him, otherwise he’d be OP as fuck)). Zagreus’s signature animals can all be given names, and they keep certain skills that they pick up through enough experience battling in the Underworld for Zagreus.

As for story-line stuff, Zagreus ends up in a very fish out of water situation as he tries to get to know everyone in Hades’s house (he’s still our kindhearted Zag, after all, and he knows most of them aren’t to blame, not even really Than!) while also focusing on his goal to get home to his mom. Hades ends up being a lot nicer to him in this AU, perhaps overly so, as he’s trying to make his son like him more in order to make up for lost time (and fill the hole in his heart that Zag’s initial death as an infant and Persephone leaving with him created). It’s part of the reason he’s even letting Zagreus try to escape; he wants him to learn that it won’t work on his own terms (and maybe also scare the kid so bad that he comes running to him for comfort afterwards).

Also, I should really note that Zagreus is 100% a sweet country farm boy in this AU, and he has no idea what the fuck is going on with pretty much anything in the Underworld, much to everyone’s astonishment. For example:

Meg: Gods, it must be weird getting used to everything down here, huh? Sick of stepping in bat shit yet? Don’t worry, you’ll get used to it, and Dusa’s pretty good about cleaning it up to begin with. Zagreus: I mean, I guess? It’s not that different from chicken shit tbh. Meg: What the fuck is a chicken???

After that... yeah, I dunno. I’ll try playing Hades some more, see if I think up anything else that could be interesting, but for now, I hope at least someone ends up liking this dumb AU (if not, I’ll still like it... might even try my hand at drawing for it a bit tbh). Again, please check out the person who’s post/art I linked earlier in the post, ‘cus their art is really awesome and inspired me to include Demeter more in this AU!

[rosemaidenvixen]

In the Fullness of Time

Chapter 4: Years Past

Ao3

Content warning: Classist language, Violation of bodily autonomy without knowledge or consent

Merlin swore as the carriage went over yet another bump.

“A thousand pardons Lord Merlin sir!” Galahad called from outside “Road’s a bit rough out this ways,”

Rough, that was a gentle way to put it. Was this an actual road or were they driving over a legion of troll remains? This was no way for a Master Wizard to travel, but where he was going his preferred forms of magical transportation would not be...well received “How much longer Galahad?”

Without warning the carriage jerked to a stop, Merlin letting out a whole string of curses as he was nearly thrown from his seat.

“We’ve arrived! Mind your boots, ground’s a touch muddy,”

“...Thank you for the warning,” Merlin grumbled, getting to his feet and opening the carriage door.

If anything Galahad had understated the conditions. The road, if one applied the term quite loosely, was nothing more than a coarse dirt track that went from the larger, more maintained road to their destination. Thoroughly churned by countless wagons and boots until it was a quagmire of mud and rubish, reaching ankle deep in places.

Merlin let out a sigh, resigned himself to the inevitable filth, and stepped down, grimacing as his boots sank into the muck. The small company of knights around him dismounted with a clatter of metal and leather. Galahad himself hopped off the front of the carriage and jogged up to face Merlin “What are your orders sir?”

“That won’t be necessary,” Merlin said while gracefully stepping around the knight “You and your men may stand down, I shall deal with this myself,”

Moving with surprising speed, Galahad ran forward and once again blocked his path “With all due respect, I cannot do that, the king’s orders are that all unregistered magic users be investigated by a company of trained knights, no exceptions,”

Merlin barely suppressed a grumble, it was rather impressive how Arthur managed to be both brilliant and a fool “Very well then, set up a perimeter around this…” he glanced warily at the buildings ahead of them “village...don’t want any surprises coming in or getting out,”

“Right on then,” Galahad turned towards the knights “You heard the man, spread out and surround the village! No surprises in or out,”

The knights all rushed to obey, Galahad joining them, as Merlin walked up the road straight into the thicket of buildings. He could have easily handled this by himself, no need for busybodies gumming up the works. But Arthur insisted on the knights’ presence to...what was it? Reassure the masses…

Merlin spared a glance at the people of the hamlet as he passed through. 

Men and women in clothes just as patchy and ragged as the buildings around them lined either side of his path. As soon as they noticed his presence they parted like all of the sea, ducking inside buildings and hurrying down alley ways. Some peeked at him out of cracked windows and doors while speaking to each other in hushed whispers. A precious few stood their ground, glaring openly at Merlin as he passed by, nearly drawing a laugh out of the Wizard. 

Ignorant rabble the lot of them. 

Fools who spent their lives with noses buried so deep in the dirt they couldn’t be bothered to look up at the stars.

There had been a time in his youth that he longed to teach people like these. To use his powers to help those that lacked the tools to help themselves. To bring enlightenment to those that clung stubbornly to the dark.

Had he ever really been that young?

Merlin shook his head to dispel the daydreams. 

More likely than not this so-called sorcerer was someone that happened to swear right as a pitcher of milk was falling to the floor. Soon enough Merlin could clear this all up and be on his way. As it was all he wanted was to get back to Camelot and have his boots cleaned to a polish. 

A space opened up in front of him as he reached the heart of the village, Merlin paused and glanced around. Most decent sized settlements surrounding Camelot had a central building of sorts, usually used for storage and official gatherings. Even smaller communities had squares that served much of the same purpose.

This town, if it was large enough to truly be considered that, had neither of those things. The only sort of central feature present was a modest stone well, which a large crowd was gathered around.

“--which is why we need to burn him!” a woman’s voice screeched “We cannot tolerate this evil blight in our midst!”

“And anger the demons who made him? Are you mad!? No, we have to sink him in the bog, give him back to his own,” 

“I’m not touching him! You know what Fae do to those who mess with them and theirs, best to wait for the king’s men to come, let them deal with--”

“We’re wasting time! Just give me a barrel and a cartful of peat and I’ll do the job myself!”

Merlin cleared his throat softly, just loud enough to make the gathered crowd turn in his direction. Upon sighting him nearly every one of them gasped and staggered back in alarm. Only three held their ground, two men and a woman, the one who so fiercely advocated for burning if he remembered right.

He allowed his face to mold into the placating smile he so often used when discussing magic with those who hadn’t the slightest idea how it worked “Good morrow to you folk, I am Merlin Ambrosius, here on behalf of the king. Now I understand you’ve been having trouble with a sorcerer?”

One of the men, the one in charge if his slightly cleaner coat and trousers were anything to go by, stepped forward and stammered out a response “Y-- yes, we have him locked up for now, but there’s no telling what kind of curses he’s brewing,”

Even with all of Merlin’s considerable patience, he was barely able to keep from rolling his eyes. These simpletons wouldn’t know a curse if he conjured one up right in front of them.

Well time to go clear this up and let the village goat herd or whoever it was out of wherever they’d penned him up “I promise you have nothing to fear, a squadron of the king’s best knights are here with me and they will allow no harm to befall you. Now take me to this sorcerer of yours and I will deal with him myself,”

The crowd visibly relaxed at his words; or more precisely, upon learning of the knights’ presence, the village headman slowly nodding at him “Follow me then,”

Merlin allowed himself to be lead to the far side of the village, with the rest of the group trailing behind. No doubt curious about his powers as much as they feared and despised them. The headman stopped at the edge of the buildings, pointing into the trees beyond “He’s in there,”

A cave barred with a wooden door was built into a hill a short distance away from the village proper. A space no doubt ordinarily used for storage now converted to a makeshift prison cell.

The headman twisted his cap in his hands “So...how long will it take you to--”

“That will be enough,” Merlin waved him off “I’ll take care of everything from here on out,”

The headman swallowed hard but still stepped aside to let Merlin pass, striding towards the cave. None of the villagers followed him, of course not that he expected any of them to.

Reaching the cave door, he opened it a crack and poked his head in. It was too dark to see the contents of the cave, the light of the open door doing little to penetrate the gloom.

“Hello?” Merlin called into the dark cave “Anyone in here?”

No reply from within the cave was forthcoming. Merlin remained standing in the doorframe in silence for a few moments. 

His patience was rewarded when a soft sniffle broke through the silence.

Merlin blinked in surprise. Well that was...unexpected.

He opened the door all the way, banishing some, but not all of the shadows. Allowing for his eyes to adjust just enough to see a small figure huddled in the far corner of the cave.

A child, dark haired, a boy by the looks of it, sat curled up on the floor of the cave. And by the look of how dirty and disheveled he was, he had been in here for some time. Clear tracks ran down his cheeks from where tears had cut through the dust. The child wasn’t crying at the moment, though whether that was due to exhaustion or dehydration remained to be seen.

Merlin strode over, slowly as not to startle him, and got down on one knee a few feet in front of the boy “Hello there,”

The child said nothing but followed him with his eyes, clearly trying to gauge how much of a threat the Wizard was.

Merlin gave his best, non-threatening, smile “Let’s lighten things up a bit, shall we?” he held out his palm, and with the barest breath of effort a green witchlight flared to life there before floating up to the cave ceiling, filling the small space with emerald light. 

A parlor trick by his standards, but it served as a good example to those not versed in the subtleties of Wizardry.

The child lifted his head to stare at the witchlight as it ascended to the roof of the cave, mouth open and eyes large with wonder.

“Now tell me young one…”

Aware he was being addressed, the child tore his gaze away from the ceiling to stare back at the Wizard, wariness coming off of him in palatable waves.

“Can you do anything like that?”

Merlin expected the child to shake his head, or at the most mumble a soft no. So it came as no small shock when the child raised his own tiny palm and stared at it with furrowed intensity.

His astonishment was even greater when cerulean sparks flared to life in the boy’s hand.

They flickered for a few seconds before going out, the boy letting out a small puff of exhaustion as they did.

This was no charlatan or victim of coincidence, this boy had actual power. And for someone of his age to even attempt to mimic a spell after only seeing it performed in front of him once…

This boy had potential.

And Merlin would be damned if he let such potential waste away in a dank cave.

Merlin got down on both knees “What is your name young one?”

“Hi-- Hisirdoux,”

“Well then Hisirdoux, what do you say we go outside and discuss things further?”

“I...I can’t…”

“Of course you can, others may not like what you can do but if I say you can leave no one will stop you,”

“But…” Hisirdoux raised one of his arms ever so slightly, a soft clink of metal accompanying the action.

A sound no louder than a cricket’s chirp, deafening to Merlin’s ears.

“Boy, show me your hands,”

Hisirdoux complied, stretching both arms out in front of him, allowing Merlin to see crude iron shackles wrapped around his wrists, sloppily fastened to heavy chains bolted into the cave wall.

Merlin had been millenia old even before Camelot was founded. He’d watched empires rise and crumble. And he’d seen every manner of cruelty that humans could inflict on each other. By now there was no atrocity that was capable of shocking him.

This however, gave him pause.

“Hold still Hisirdoux, let me get those off you,”

Merlin moved closer, raising a hand over Hisirdoux’s wrists, gently probing into the shackles with his magic. 

Elemental iron was the antithesis to magic and could impede it in any form, from raw ore to rusty nails, but it’s true power of binding lay in its shaping. Molding the earth and bending it your will, ingenuity triumphing over the unknown. And a clever and experienced Wizard such as himself could see through the patterns of iron’s construction and unravel it.

It was not difficult, these shackles were especially crude. Hastily hammered together from materials never intended to bind. Probably why Hisirdoux was still able to manifest some power. So it only took a minute, then a flick of his fingers and the shackles fell to the ground.

However the damage had been done.

Hisirdoux whimpered, gently poking at one of the angry red burn marks with a wince. 

Merlin laid both hands over the boy’s wrists.

“Sana et integro,”

Bands of green light bloomed to life and wrapped around the burn marks, slowly fading as they sank into the skin, taking some of the bright redness with it. It wouldn’t heal Hisirdoux completely, but it should end his pain for now.

However he would carry the scars with him for the rest of his life.

Had his neighbors known how badly the iron would injure him, a young child fresh into his magic, or had they merely been concerned with sealing his power away at any cost?

The real question was if any of them bloody cared.

“Better?”

Hisirdoux nodded with a sniffle.

“Good,” Merlin reached over and gently cupped his chin, the boy flinching at the contact, tilting his head up to look him in the eye “Hisirdoux, what I can do and what you can do is called magic, the ability to channel the arcane energies of the universe to bend them to your will,”

Hisirdoux said nothing, merely stared up at him with wide, but not frightened, eyes.

“You are capable of so much more than you know, and if you become my apprentice, I can teach you how to wield your powers to their fullest potential,”

“B...but I don’t want to be an apprentice, I want to stay here with mother and father,”

Merlin held back a sigh of disappointment. Hisirdoux might not have realized it yet, but he had no home here, not anymore. No matter, that truth would make itself known soon enough, the only thing to do was get it over with as quickly as possible. no reason for Merlin to prolong the inevitable.

“Very well then,” Merlin stood and extended his hand “I will take you to them,”

Even though he was far from being moved by such things, sentimentality being something he’d abandoned centuries ago, seeing the flash of hope on Hisirdoux’s face and knowing how unfounded it was hardly felt pleasant.

Hisirdoux reached up, tiny fingers grasping his own, and pulled himself to his feet. Following along as Merlin stepped out of the cave, wincing as they stepped into the bright sunlight.

How many days has his parents sat back and allowed him to be locked away in the dark?

Merlin wasn’t overly fond of the sensation of the tiny, grubby fingers grasping his own, but it was the best way to keep Hisirdoux from running off. If their talk of burning earlier hadn’t convinced him, seeing Hisirdoux’s condition in the cave cinched it. 

The boy was not safe here.

And sure enough, as they approached the village, Hisirdoux brightened, and started to pull away “Mother! Father!”

Merlin kept his grip on Hisirdoux’s hand firm, not letting go as they stepped up to the gathered villagers, despite the boy’s attempts to pull away. Steeling his expression when he saw the mother and father Hisirdoux was looking at.

Hopefully Hisirdoux never had to learn that his mother wanted to burn him alive.

The tell-tale clatter of plate armor came up from beside him, and Merlin turned to see Galahad rapidly approaching. 

“How goes it finding the unregistered sorcerer, any luck?”

Merlin paused and greeted the knight with a nod, ignoring Hisirdoux’s attempts to break free and run to his parents “As a matter of fact I have, he right here,”

“Where? All I see is some waifish…..” Galahad trailed off, eyes going wide from behind his bushy brows.

Good to see Merlin wasn’t the only one appalled at how these villagers had treated their ‘sorcerer’. 

And speaking of a crowd was starting to form around them, drawn by Merlin’s appearance and Hisirdoux’s shouts. 

Merlin straightened to his full height and squared his shoulders.

Time to reset the wound as quickly as possible.

“False alarm everyone,” he gestured towards the squirming Hisirdoux with one hand while looking around at the gathered villagers “This boy does have magic, but he is of no threat to you, you can all go back to your ordinary lives,”

Hisirdoux strained as he continued to try and escape Merlin’s grip and run to his parents “Mother! Mother! I can come home now!”

The mother in question stepped up close and glowered down at him, expression hard enough that it caused Hisirdoux’s brightness to dim “That’s not my boy, not any longer, that child is tainted by darkness, he has no place in my house or in this village,”

No one else around them spoke up, either in agreement or objection, although based on the looks on their faces they hardly disagreed.

Hisirdoux froze, expression beginning to crumple “But moth--”

“Don’t you dare!” the woman shrieked, the sheer venom dripping from her voice enough to cause Hisirdoux, some of the villagers around her, and even Galahad to recoil “Don’t you dare address me as your mother! You’re a curse, a demon, you dare to call yourself our child, deceiving us and hiding your true nature so you can bring ruin to us all--”

“Beloved enough,” the man next to her put an arm around her waist and gently pulled her back “I know this is a trying time for you, but you must not lose yourself in such wrathful displays,”

He put both hands on her shoulders and looked her in the eye “Our child may be tainted by Fae magics, but all is not lost, soon the evil will be gone. And there will be more children between us,”

She sighed, slumping in his grip “You are right, soon our village will be godly once more, and we will have more children to replace the one we lost,”

Hisirdoux had gone completely still, staring up at his parents with an utterly horrified, heartbroken expression. 

His father turned back towards Merlin “My wife speaks true, that’s no son of mine, either you take care of him or we’ll do it ourselves,”

An unfortunate but not unexpected response “Very well then,” he gave a gentle tug on the fingers still clasped in his “Hisirdoux?”

The boy looked up at him, eyes brimming. 

“My offer still stands, do you wish to become my apprentice?”

He gave a terse nod, tiny faced pinched in the effort to hold back tears.

“Then let us go and--”

“Hang on,” Hisirdoux’s father cut in “You can’t just carry my son off,��

Merlin raised an eyebrow “I thought you said he was no son of yours?”

The man flushed but held his ground “I sired him, raised him, and fed him. Can’t just let anyone go carrying him off with nothing to show for it,”

The sheer audacity of this man stopped Merlin in his tracks “How are you to demand such a thing when you’ve made it quite clear you’re not interested in taking him back?”

A triumphant glint entered the man’s eyes “You seem fairly interested in him, wouldn’t want to leave him and have something happen now would you?”

Merlin’s expression darkened, disgust he’d thought himself long past feeling slowly trickling into his chest. He’d seen poor reactions to people discovering their child was touched by magic many times before, this was far from the first time Merlin had witnessed parents proclaim their child dead while they stood living before their eyes. But never in all his centuries had he witnessed any cling so greedily to the corpse “You presume much if you think you can command me to--”

“It’s not as though you can just carry him off,” the the man said, unnervingly calm “The king wouldn’t be happy to hear of his Master Wizard carrying off children from their parents. So you can either pay my price or I’ll find someone who will,” 

Around him the other villagers, his wife included, were murmuring in agreement. Mentions of prices or even other options should Merlin prove unwilling to pay floating up in hushed bits of conversation.

Hisirdoux glanced back and forth between the two men. As young as he was he couldn’t possibly understand the intricacies of the situation surrounding him. But he clearly understood something, some base instinct informing him of the peril he was in, that he stood at the crossroads of danger and safety. His tiny fingers gripping Merlin’s hand with all the feeble strength he could muster. 

The disgust filling him deepened into a rage the likes of which he hadn’t felt in decades. Merlin had to make an effort not to shatter Hisirdoux’s fingers in his grip. From off to the side he could see Galahad watching the entire exchange with his jaw hanging open.

These people, who owned little more than the clothes on their backs, had been blessed with a child with immense magical potential, who possessed the power to potentially build their hamlet up to a kingdom in its own right, and this was how they treated him? They didn’t even afford him the dignity that they would a rat or a wolf, to them Hisirdoux was merely property. Blighted property that they had no desire to keep, but every right to sell to the highest bidder.

These fools had done what in a single afternoon what beings far greater than them had spent years trying and failing to accomplish.

They had made Merlin angry.

He let out a sigh and hung his head “Very well, name your price,”

The man grinned victoriously “Eighty pounds and not a pence less,”

“Fine,” Merlin said coldly.

The man blinked, clearly expecting some haggling involved.

“Galahad,” 

The knight jerked towards him, startled out of his stupefied state.

“Write up a contract stating that these two,” he inclined his head towards the couple in front of him “Are to receive eighty pounds in exchange for signing over their son to be a ward of the crown,”

Galahad nodded slowly, pulling open his bag of parchment and official seals “I’ll get right on that,” he glanced down at Hisirdoux, tears now openly rolling down his small face “How about you two go ahead and wait in the carriage, I won’t be but a minute,”

Merlin nodded, turning and tugging Hisirdoux after him as he headed away from the village and back towards the awaiting carriage.

He waited until Galahad and the crowd of villagers were far out of earshot before starting the chant. Hisirdoux could no doubt hear him, but he would neither remember the words or understand their significance.

Merlin preferred not to use blood magic, both due to the impracticality and the immense risk, but today he would make an exception.

Hisirdoux’s parents, with a complete lack of understanding of magic and how it functions, had declared their child tainted and cut him out of their hearts and community. Deciding to either sell him to offset their so-called loss or kill him and be done with it.

Well if that was the way they treated their firstborn child, Merlin would ensure that there would be no more children after Hisirdoux, for either of them.

From now until their dying days Hisirdoux’s parents would never again bear children, neither with each other nor any other partner.

The words felt cold and slimy falling from his lips, the magic they invoked soft and subtle. Slowly creeping into the bodies of Hisirdoux’s mother and father, altering them just enough to accomplish his goal.

Of course the blood magic curse would only affect those two, the rest of the village, the ones who had been complicit at best and gleeful participants at worst, would not share its effects.

But they would see Hisirdoux’s parents, see what the curse did to them without ever knowing the cause for certain. And they would wonder, and they would be afraid. 

He completed his curse just as the carriage and the rest of the knights came into view, falling silent as he stepped up to them, from far behind he could feel the last traces of magic settle into place and the curse take hold.

Merlin helped Hisirdoux climb the steps into the carriage, from behind him he heard Galahad come up and call to the rest of the knights.

“Alright we’re burning daylight, let’s get a move on!”

A quick glance to the west revealed just how right Galahad was, the sun was now far lower in the sky and they needed to hurry if they wanted to make it to safety before the darkness came and brought trolls with it. Moving swiftly, he stepped into the carriage and shut the door behind him, lifting Hisirdoux up onto the seat and sitting himself beside him just as the carriage pulled to a start.

Hisirdoux remained silent the whole while, had been ever since he’d heard what his parents truly thought of him, eyes locked on the small window, watching the village that had been his home slowly fade into the distance. 

“Hisirdoux,” Merlin spoke softly “I know you must be dealing with quite a lot right now, but you need to understand that there is nothing inherently wrong with your abilities. They are a tool like a sword or a hammer that can be used for good or for ill. They are not evil or corrupt they simply are,” 

The boy refused to look directly at him, eyes bright and lip trembling.

“How your village reacted to your abilities isn’t a reflection of your faults, but of theirs,”

Hisirdoux didn’t react aside from a sniffle, small shoulders starting to shake.

Years from now Hisirdoux would look back on this day as nothing more than a faded scar, a memory of a wound long since healed. But the future was far away, and today the wound was still fresh and raw. Merlin had said and done all he could for now; some wounds could only be healed with time. 

Settling back in his seat, Merlin turned to glance out his own window, prepared to spend the rest of the trip in silence.

Without warning something abruptly pressed into his side.

Startled, Merlin glanced sharply down, only to see Hisirdoux clinging to his torso, openly sobbing against him.

The sight was so baffling that Merlin didn’t know how to react. 

What on earth did this boy think he was doing? Merlin was a Master Wizard, not some nursemaid Hisirdoux could cling to whenever he wished. Merlin’s duty as his master was to instruct him in the ways of magic and that was it, he’d hire a nanny for everything else. If Hisirdoux was going to be his apprentice the boy needed to bloody well learn the difference between the two straight away.

He raised a hand to push Hisirdoux away, but paused just before it could touch him. Keeping it poised in the air for a few seconds, Hisirdoux’s weak sobs echoing in the small carriage, before dropping it with a sigh. Lowing his hand to softly pat Hisirdoux’s back instead.

Perhaps some indulgence was in order, the boy had just been cast out of his home and family. Granted it didn’t look like either of those had been worth very much, but still they were all that he had ever known.

This couldn’t be a regular occurrence, as soon as they got to Camelot Merlin would arrange for a proper nanny to handle caring for Hisirdoux. As master and apprentice, Merlin was responsible for Hisirdoux’s education and nothing else. But just for today, he would make an exception.

As their journey went on, the carriage rocking along as it carried them down the rugged road, Hisirdoux’s sobs gradually softened into sniffles, Merlin rubbing his back all the while, eventually he quieted altogether, though still remaining curled up against Merlin’s side.

“Hisirdoux?” Merlin said quietly.

No response.

He glanced down, glimpsing shut eyes and a slack face, a soft snore escaping him.

For a moment Merlin just stared incredulously. 

The child had fallen asleep on him, of all the impertinent-- good lord what if he started drooling on him?

Merlin briefly considered trying to move him, before settling back in resignation. If he tried to move the boy chances are he would wake up, and after being locked away for days with hardly any food or water and his wrists wrapped in iron...Hisirdoux needed a good rest.

And while Merlin wasn’t smitten with the idea of being drooled on, at least while he was sleeping Hisirdoux would be quiet and out of the way.

Tilting forward as much as he could without disturbing the sleeping child, Merlin peeked out his window, and again out the opposite one. Seeing no knights riding near enough to see inside, he swiftly snapped his fingers. A blanket on the opposite seat becoming sheathed in green light, leaping over and tucking itself securely around Hisirdoux’s sleeping form, the light around it vanishing just as quickly as it appeared

Satisfied that the deed had gone unwitnessed, Merlin leaned back and gave Hisirdoux one more soft pat on the back as the carriage continued on down the road.

[songsformonkeys]

Digging Up Bones (whiskey x f!reader) - chapter 3

[Banner by the lovely @yespolkadotkitty ]

Summary: You work for the Statesmen as the head of their medical department. It’s your job to patch up anyone who gets back wounded and to work on ways to prevent them from getting badly wounded in the first place.

Agent Whiskey, in particular, seems to be more accident-prone than the rest and he never passes up a reason to come see you, whether for real injuries or imaginary ones. The two of you form a close friendship, which slowly turns into something more.

Then a British man with a headshot wound and a fascination with butterflies shows up in your emergency room and in the events that follow you’re forced to reevaluate just about everything you thought you knew about your partner.

Warnings: canon typical violence

Masterlist

Chapter 3

The following three days passed in a slow fashion. Not just because Whiskey was gone but the rest of the agents seemed to be staying out of harm's way as well. It was a bit boring, but that was something Tonic had taught you not to complain about out loud since it apparently made it sound like you longed for injuries and carnage.

On the bright side, the slow days gave you, Ginger, and Tonic time to begin interviewing the agents on base for their emergency folders for the Alpha-gel.

The three of you had realized that while the gel and the nanites healed the brain perfectly fine they still needed something to counter the retrograde amnesia, which seemed to be a standard side effect. The sample of agents that had needed to use the gel was still small and so you couldn't draw too many sure conclusions from it, but every single one of them so far had suffered memory loss. It had been Tonic's idea that reminders of a past trauma might jump-start the memory again. The results had been good but guessing and digging up past traumas had been painstakingly difficult and had taken up more time than ideal. So you had collectively decided that each agent should have a file or a folder containing their very worst memory and ways it could be triggered.

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 On Wednesday evening, you curled up in your armchair and called Whiskey. He picked up after three rings.

“Moonshine, “ he drawled, voice sounding a little tired.

“Sorry, did I wake you?” you asked, suddenly feeling a little bad. It wasn't that late in the evening but maybe Whiskey had needed to tuck in early.

“No no, I was awake,” Whiskey assured you, “Just got home from a looong day at an art auction. I'm not sure if you've ever been but it is possibly the most boring thing I have ever done.”

“Yeah? What was so bad about it?” you asked, smiling to yourself. You would be caught dead before admitting it out loud but you had actually missed him these past few days.

Whiskey began describing his day. A soon as he began talking, his voice relaxed you. You pictured him walking around in a swanky hotel room, with a view of the big city, probably still wearing his hat. You were half convinced he even slept in that thing.

Whiskey told you about the auction and the few stuck-up people who had pretended not to understand his southern accent just to make him feel less than. Then he told you about the way he'd later wiped the smug smiles off their faces by actually bidding home the small painting they had been ogling.

“Champ might kill me for it, 'cause it cost a small fortune, but it was worth it!”

“What will you do with the painting?” you asked.

“Hm,” Whiskey said and you didn't need to see him to know that he was shrugging, “Dunno. Might hang it in my apartment. It's a beautiful painting, reminded me of someone special... Speaking of my apartment, have you finished the cake yet?”

You nodded, before remembering that he couldn't see you.

“Yes, Ginger and Tonic helped me eat the rest of it.”

You had been over to Whiskey's apartment the day after he'd left. When you'd gotten to work, his key had been in a white envelope on your desk and you hadn't been able to keep your curiosity at bay for longer than a workday.

The apartment hadn't been quite what you thought Whiskey's home would look like. It had been much neater and cleaner than you had expected, for starters. You had expected more of a bachelor pad but Whiskey's apartment was quite nice. It looked lived in but not messy. Each thing seemed to have its own designated spot. As you had walked around the living room towards the kitchen you had taken in the big, comfortable-looking couch and multi-colored knitted blanket that looked like it was homemade.

There had been a couple of books on art history resting on the wooden coffee table. You had stopped, slightly in awe, in front of the big bookshelves that covered a whole wall of the room. You'd never pictured Whiskey to be the reading type, but here was clear proof otherwise. You had scanned the titles of the books and the exceptionally wide array of subjects made you suspect that a lot of these had been read for previous missions. But there had been a whole shelf of fiction too and you smiled a little as you noted that a lot of them seemed to be old western classics.

You had found the cake in the fridge in the equally clean kitchen. The cake had been in a plastic container and Whiskey had stuck a post-it note with a smiley on the lid.

“I liked your bookshelf. And I borrowed a book from you,“ you confessed over the phone and Whiskey chuckled in response.

“Is that so? Which one, if I may ask, was it that caught your fancy?”

“Lonesome Dove.”

“Ah, a classic! Didn't have you pegged as a western girl, Moonshine.”

“I'm not sure if I am, I've never read any. But you had a lot of them and I thought...” You cut yourself off, glancing over at the book on your bed, “You had a book on human anatomy as well that looked interesting and one on make-shift medical treatment when you don't have access to a hospital. I didn't take those, though. It felt wrong to take so many books without asking...”

Whiskey chuckled again and the sound did weird things to your insides, or maybe it was the nerves of having just admitted to raiding his bookshelf.

“Darlin', if it makes you happy, you are more than welcome to help yourself to any book in that apartment”

“Really? But what if it's a book that you suddenly need?”

“Then I'll know perfectly well where to find it.”

You couldn't really argue with that logic, didn't really want to either because the prospect of getting to read all those books almost made you giddy.

“So besides ogling my books, what else have you been up to while I've been gone?” Whiskey asked and you proceeded to tell him about the work with the Trauma Folders, which Tonic so affectionately called them.

“You still haven't submitted yours either, by the way,” you told him. Whiskey didn't immediately answer. The line was dead silent for a few seconds and just when you were about to ask if he was still there, he cleared his throat.

“Yeah, I know. I promise to get right on that as soon as I'm back, okay?” He sounded a little odd and your brow furrowed slightly. Whiskey cleared his throat again.

“Look, darlin', I'm pretty dead on my feet right now and as lovely as your voice is to listen to, I think unfortunately we gotta hang up before I start snoring on you.”

“Oh, of course! Sorry, I've talked too much.”

“Hardly,” Whiskey replied and his voice was warm and soft again, which eased the nervous knots that had begun forming in your stomach at his abrupt attempt to end the call. Usually, that was your role to try and say goodnight and his to try and linger. “I cherish every word, which is why I prefer to be awake for them. Call me tomorrow again?”

“Sure. Good night, Whiskey.”

“Good night, darlin'”

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 If the previous days had been slow, the following day was anything but, at least when the afternoon rolled around.

Ginger had called you about some very strange low-frequency readings coming from a church nearby in Kentucky. She told you that she and Tequila were gonna go check it out but that you should be on standby, just in case.

You told her to be careful. Ginger was excellent at her job but she was also one of your closest friends and you couldn't help but worry.

After you'd ended the call, you immediately set about preparing the emergency room and double-checking to make sure everything was there. Seeing as neither of you knew what the strange readings had been about, it was difficult to prepare for every possible scenario, and while you knew that the health effects of exposure to extremely low frequencies were being discussed in the medical community, no one knew exactly what the effects were.

It seemed like a lifetime had passed before Ginder called you again. You heard the sound of the helicopter in the background. She told you that they'd be there in thirty and that they were bringing someone in with a headshot.

“I'll get the chamber ready for him!” you told her

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 Thirty minutes later, on the dot, you watched as the helicopter landed and Tequila emerged, carrying a man in a suit. The man's face was obscured by the balloon containing the Alpha-gel but his clothes looked expensive.

“Entry point?” you yelled, over the sound of the helicopter as you waved for Tequila and Ginger to hurry inside.

“Straight through the left eye,” Ginger replied and you winced. The left temporal lobe would be damaged, for sure, maybe part of the occipital one too. You were confident that the nanites would be able to rebuild the brain matter but with the temporal lobe damaged you worried that the memory loss might be even more extensive than what you'd seen before and you wondered if it would affect his speech.

“Exit point or is the bullet still in there?” you asked.

“The bullet went all the way through as far as I could tell. Not sure what he was shot with though so we'll have to scan to make sure there's nothing left in there.”

Said and done. When you got down to the medical rooms you first put the man through a thorough scan of his skull. Just like Ginger suspected, the bullet had gone straight through and it luckily hadn't left anything but damaged tissue in its wake. Tequila helped move him over to the nanite chamber. Carefully, you removed the Alpha-gel balloon and quickly closed the chamber around his head.

“What happened?” you asked as you sat down in front of the computer and began tapping away at the keyboard, starting the machine and readying it for the healing and rebuilding process.

“We have no idea,” Ginger said. “We found him like this outside the church, no sign of who had shot him. Inside the church, however...”

“What?” you asked.

“Inside was a total fuckin' bloodbath,” Tequila supplied, “Whole congregation just...slaughtered.”

You looked over at the strange man.

“You think he did it?”

Both Ginger and Tequila shrugged.

“We don't know. But he's got blood on him that isn't his own and there was no gun in his hand so he clearly didn't shoot himself, which means someone got away from that Church alive.” Ginger reasoned, “And there's one more thing..”

She pulled a pair of glasses from the pocket of her jacket. The left glass was shattered.

“He was wearing these. These aren't normal glasses, which means he's not a civilian. And his watch... he's some sort of intelligence. I'll dig around and see if I can find out whom he belongs to.”

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 You called Whiskey again that evening. He sounded more awake today but you could practically hear the frown on his face when you told him about your strange new guest. He was not happy.

“He's an agent?” he asked.

“We think so. Ginger is running some tests on his glasses and his watch to see what we can figure out but so far we have no idea whom he's working for. So we just have to wait for him to wake up and see how much he remembers.”

“I don't like this,” Whiskey stated. “Not one bit. If he's intelligence, he's dangerous, Moonshine. You shouldn't be alone with him, not under any circumstances!”

“I won't,” you reassured him while rolling your eyes. “Agent Tequila also has an over-protective streak and has, therefore, put himself on guard duty until further notice. I've had him looking over my shoulder all evening.”

You had found it somewhat annoying but Whiskey had instantly calmed down upon hearing that bit of information. He told you to promise to listen to Tequila on this, which you reluctantly did. You didn't tell Whiskey that if the arrangement continued, you would have to come to some sort of agreement with Tequila on how close was close enough for protection. You couldn't have him reading over your shoulder all day long or you'd go stir crazy.

Whiskey continued to ask you a bunch of questions about the strange man and you couldn't answer a single one. He asked you about the signal too and you couldn't give him any answers to that either. It was all Ginger's area of expertise and you told him as much.

“Sorry, darlin', just wanna make sure my favorite girl is safe until I get back.”

Whiskey's words made you smile stupidly, despite the slightly patronizing undertone of them. You would like to think you knew how to take care of yourself, especially around your patients. But you did enjoy it when Whiskey called you his favorite. No one else had called you their favorite before.

After a few more minutes of chit-chat, you both said good night.

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 The next day, your patient woke up.

It had been decided the day before that Tonic and Tequila would be the first ones to greet him. Tequila because of the whole bodyguard business and Tonic because he was by far the one who had the most experience with calming people in shock and panic. You had only sulked a little when you'd sat down the desk on the other side of the one-way mirror showing you the stranger's cell. You turned on the cameras in the other room to record the interaction before leaning forward over the desk to watch.

As anticipated, the man was more than a little freaked out by waking up in an unfamiliar place with unfamiliar faces around him.

“Where am I? Who are you?” he immediately asked and you raised your eyebrows as you noted his British accent. The stranger tried to scramble off the bed where he'd been lying. Tequila took a step forward but Tonic quickly held up a hand to stop him.

“You are in a hospital,” Tonic told the frightened man and gave him a calm smile, “My name is To...Tom.”

“A hospital? What happened?” the stranger asked.

“We were hoping you would be able to tell us. You were in some sort of accident and when we found you, you were unconscious.”

Unconscious... that was definitely an understatement to describing having had one's brains blown out through the back of their head.

“Do you remember anything of what happened?” Tonic continued.

The British man looked around the room with wild eyes but he was already calming down a bit. While you were a bit jealous that Tonic, or Tom apparently, was the first one to get to talk to your new patient you had to admit that it was a privilege to get to watch him work. Tonic continued talking to the man and answering his questions by saying just enough to calm him but not enough to confuse him.

You found out that his name was Harry, but he couldn't remember his last name. He was from England and he thought he was 23 years old, which he most definitely was not. You caught Tonic and Tequila exchange a look as Harry told them his age. If Harry couldn't remember anything beyond his 23rd year then you estimated that he had forgotten more than half of his life. And since he wasn't one of your agents, you had no idea how to bring those memories back again...

Tonic and Harry spoke for a while longer and Tonic told him about his injuries. He also told harry about the memory loss. Harry didn't believe him until Tonic guided him over to the one-way mirror separating you from them and let Harry have a look at himself. You stood on the other side of the mirror and could watch as realization dawned on Harry. His breathing immediately sped up again and he was beginning to panic.

“Harry,” Tonic said calmly, “Harry, I'm gonna need you to breathe slower with me, okay? We've seen this kind of memory loss before and we will do our very best to help you recover the memories you can't remember right now”

“Think of it as one hell of a hangover,” Tequila supplied and Harry gave him an incredulous look.

“Hangover?” he asked in a weak voice “I look old enough to be a grandfather and I don't remember any of it... I don't think anyone has ever been drunk enough for that kind of hangover.

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 Tonic and Tequila handled the whole ordeal in a way that made you proud to call yourself their colleague and they stayed with Harry for most of the day, talking and explaining. Harry listened patiently and you had to give him credit for taking the situation a whole lot better than some of the Statesmen who had gone through the same thing. He was scared and worried, sure, but he managed to keep his panic in check and asked Tonic a whole bunch of relevant questions.

You wished you could have stayed and watched all afternoon but eventually you had to go back to your own office and begin typing up your report.

You had barely gotten two paragraphs in when your phone started ringing.

“Moonshine?” Whiskey said as soon as you picked up and you could immediately tell that something was wrong. He sounded scared. There were car horns blaring and loud crashes in the background.

“Yes. Whiskey what's...”

Whiskey cut you off before you could finish your question.

“Where are you?” he asked and when it took you a fraction of a second too long to answer, he repeated the question, “Moonshine! Where are you?”

“I'm in the office. Whiskey what's wrong?”

“Good! Whatever you do, stay where you are! There's something in the air! People are killing each other!”

“What?” Before you could say anything further, your door burst open and you screamed from surprise.

“Moonshine!” Whiskey yelled, panicked, as Ginger stormed into the office and pushed you out of her way to get to the computer. She began tapping on the keyboard and you watched as she pulled up live feeds from several cameras around the country. Your mouth fell open as you watched the chaos that filled the screen.

“MOONSHINE!” Whiskey yelled again and you realized you hadn't answered him.

“I'm fine!” you quickly assured him and you heard him exhale loudly. “Ginger just showed up. What the hell is going on?” The last question was aimed at them both. The quality of the feeds wasn't the best but there was no mistaking what was going on. All over the country, people were killing each other.

“The fuck if I know,” Whiskey said at the same time as Ginger supplied the slightly more helpful “It's the same signal! It's the same low frequency as we picked up from the church. But this is all over...well the world”

She turned and looked at the phone in your hand.

“Is that agent Whiskey?”

You nodded but then froze as you heard a banging noise on the other end of the line, which sounded much closer than the previous ones. You heard Whiskey curse.

“Whiskey?”

There was another crash and he cursed again.

“I'm sorry, darlin', I seem to have a visitor. I gotta go.”

“Whiskey,” you begged and you heard your own voice break as you spoke his name.

“Don't worry, sweetheart. I'll deal with this and then I promise I'll come right home to you. You just promise to stay inside and stay safe, okay?”

What about you? you wanted to ask, but Whiskey had already hung up.

“He'll be fine,” said Ginger, who must have seen the expression change on your face. You nodded. She was right. Whiskey was an excellent agent. He would be fine.

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 He would be fine. You managed to convince yourself of that up until about an hour later when the office phone called. You were too busy clutching your own phone, waiting for Whiskey to call back, to pay any attention to the other phone so Ginger picked it up and answered. She exchanged a few cryptic comments with the person on the other line before ending the call by saying:

“We'll be ready for him.”

After she'd hung up the phone she turned towards you.

“Whiskey's on his way back. He's been stabbed but according to the pilot, he's stable. They're flying him back now. “

[girlactionfigure]

Alone With The Dishes

[I wrote the first draft of this back in 2004 to describe the mental process I go through at this time of year.]

One gets to do a fair amount of thinking late at night, alone with the dishes.  To be clear, my wife does her fair share of the dishes.  But for the big jobs - particularly after dinner parties, large Shabbat/holiday meals, etc. - I’m the one left surveying the wreckage and not knowing exactly where to begin.

So it is (for me) with the approach of Rosh Hashannah and Yom Kippur.

For me, looking back at the year is like surveying the aftermath of a wild dinner party; one where invitations were extended to far more people than the house could comfortably accommodate… the kind of rollicking soirée that is talked about and savored (and paid for), for months.

But every such a party comes at a cost.

Rosh Hashanah (for me) is roughly analogous to standing in the doorway between the kitchen and the dining room looking aghast at the damage.

What was I thinking?!

Every horizontal surface is stacked high with dirty glasses and dishes.

Empty bottles of Merlot, Syrah and Chardonnay stand abandoned beside half-empty bottles of bourbon and scotch.

The sinks overflow with greasy dishes, and the dessert service (dishes, tea cups and saucers), seem evenly distributed between the diningroom table and the various kitchen counters.

Soiled linen napkins sit balled on (and under), chairs.  And glasses of every description seem to wink at me from wherever the wandering conversationalists happen to have abandoned them.

On Rosh Hashanah I stand slumped in that imaginary doorway trying to make the insurmountable seem, well, surmountable; trying to place the soiled contents of my slovenly year into some kind of framework where things can be addressed in an orderly fashion.

Anyone who has ever been left to clean up after a big party understands the daunting nature of the task. At first glance it seems the house will never be clean again, so why bother?!.

But then you pick up that first wine glass (with the half-moon of lipstick on the rim), and place it in such a way as to demonstrate to the long departed guests and sleeping house that this spot on the sideboard is where the crystal will be gathered.

And so Rosh Hashanah begins (for me)… nothing getting washed just yet; just making the insurmountable seem surmountable.

Several circuits of the house bring more dirty wine, whiskey, and water glasses than I ever knew we owned, to join that first one there on the counter.

Then, after emptying the sinks of their precariously piled contents, I draw a basin of hot soapy water.

As the basin fills, I designate other places for dishes and for cups and for saucers - each to each - all according to size. Warming to the familiar task, while I work I take comfort in the muffled sound of the water under its foamy cloak… almost like a prayer.

And so Rosh Hashanah continues (for me).  Nothing getting washed just yet… just making the insurmountable seem surmountable.

Next the sterling flatware and serving pieces are gathered into a pot full of soapy water, and the linen napkins are bundled with the tablecloth into the hamper in the laundry room.

With the leftovers wrapped and put safely into the refrigerator, and the trash bundled to the bin, the place is starting to look more sane… not one iota cleaner, mind you... but some semblance of order has begun to emerge from the chaos.

Now pots and pans of every shape and size are filled with hot soapy water and placed on the stove and sideboard to soak. Measuring cups and carving knives are placed beside legions of serving platters. Spices are returned to their racks, and canisters of flour and sugar are placed back on their shelves; each gestures creating a bit of space… and again, I am comforted by the suggestion of emerging order.

And so Rosh Hashanah ends (for me)… nothing having been washed just yet… but the insurmountable finally beginning to seem surmountable.

If I've done that much, it seems less daunting to stand in the spiritual doorway between Rosh Hashannah and Yom Kippur… balanced on the threshold between what has happened... and the tantalizing suggestion of more good things that might still lie ahead.

I haven’t yet washed a thing, although some of the bigger problems have been identified and been placed in to soak. The glasses all sit with their fellows and the dishes are stacked according to shape and size. Everything still bears the smudges and smears of too much fun… too much indulgence. But now, as I look around, the task seems somehow more manageable… surmountable.

As I stand listening to the soft ahhhhhhhhhh of the soap bubbles as they settle in the sink, I am almost ready for Yom Kippur. I have a clearer idea of what has to be washed… and I know (hope) that after the necessary work, I will find myself at the end of the process with sparkling china… lovingly polished sterling… and immaculate crystal.  And the house  - and my life - will be looking - and feeling - ready for a fresh beginning.

May we all be inscribed and sealed for a good year.

Treppenwitz

[luvdsc]

would you mind doing a description of each member of nct dream? you don’t have to cuz that’s lowkey a lot BUT i figured i’d ask since i’m trying to write something and get their personalities right. i really admire your work!! have a nice day, babes!!!

yes, of course, lovebug 💕 I’ll be rewording the analyses from the asks about my ideal type and adding to them, so it might be a bit familiar! I could’ve written more, but I had to stop because I reached max length for each paragraph 😅 I hope these are helpful to you, and thank you so much for liking my work, honey bee!!! 💛 best of luck with your writing, and I hope you have a good day, too! 🌼 also, I’m on mobile and I’m so sorry for all the scrolling! I’ll add a read more when I get on my laptop ✨ edit: the read more has been added :’)

MARK :: oh, where do i start with mister absolutely fully capable? mark is the definition of adorkable. if you look up that word in the dictionary, you’re gonna see his picture pasted right under it. he’s endearing and awkward, and he tries his best in everything and puts his best foot forward, giving 110% in whatever he does. he’s a hard worker and a good boy. he laughs at that’s what she said jokes, and he’s the type of person to think of a funny joke from three days ago and start laughing at the most inappropriate time, like in the middle of standard testing. he’ll say things he thinks are funny, like “five guys hello guys” or that long sentence about possibilities and immediately look to you with those wide doe eyes, seeking a positive reaction from you and hoping you’ll laugh. he’ll try to wink at you randomly sometimes, but he always fails and just ends up blinking, which will make you laugh and call him cute and have him scrunching up his nose because that’s not what he intended to happen and he’ll be really flustered at the compliment. he’s really sweet, and I think taeil called him the most romantic? however, I feel like having a relationship isn’t a high priority for him right now. he seems to have workaholic tendencies, which could frustrate his s/o. he would need to have someone that understands his work and music is the most important to him, and he might unintentionally neglect checking up with his s/o at times. he’s a little shy and introverted, so it might be hard for him to make a first move if you aren’t friends at first. he’ll write dozens upon dozens of songs about you. that’s the way he’ll express his affection because he’s too shy to in the beginning and music is what he’s good at. there will be lots of late nights with him strumming his guitar and you sitting next to him, reading a book or playing a game on your phone, and he’ll call your name and you look up before he nervously starts to play a new song that he’s written for you. and at the end of the song, he’ll glance up at you really quickly before looking back down at his guitar, and you’re going to have to go over to him and take his face into your hands softly and tell him his song was amazing and you love it as much as you love him. and he’ll smile so big as his glasses slide down his nose before he quickly leans up and presses the softest kiss against your mouth to show you his appreciation before he loses courage to do so. sometimes you steal those round rimmed glasses of his and try them on yourself, and mark has to cover his face and look away and wring his hands and he makes those little oi mark noises because you look so cute and he doesn’t know what to do with himself. on the other hand, mark is also very stubborn. it may not look like that, but if you notice the relationship between him and hyuck, hyuck is always the one giving in at the end. mark will absolutely not do something if he doesn’t want to do it. I do think he will go after something if he wants it, but he will hesitate slightly at first. he follows the rules a bit too much. he doesn’t seem to be the most fun person to party with either unless you get him to drink a beer because he’s a lightweight, but that also means you have to take care of him afterwards. also, he said in an interview that he doesn’t like rollercoasters or fast rides, but he enjoys the cotton candy at amusement parks lol but he did go on those rides in the end, but his head was down the entire time rip. mark gets easily embarrassed. it’s like in that video where they read tweets aloud and mark got super embarrassed when jaehyun read this tweet that gushed about his laugh, and mark just curled up into himself and couldn’t lift his head up and awkwardly laughed. he’s adorkable. please tease him and hype him up in this very same way just to get this cute reaction out of him.

RENJUN :: renjun is the one you can call when you have a body to bury and he’ll show up with the shovel. he’ll call you a stupid idiot, but he’ll still show up to help you. he’s the type that would come over at 3 a.m. if there’s a bug in your apartment and squash it for you after much complaining and telling you that he won’t do it. he’s fiercely loyal and caring. he took care of chenle when chenle wasn’t as proficient with korean and made sure he was doing ok and was always ready to translate for him whenever. he puts up a tough, ready to fight front, but he’s a scaredy cat and if you pretend to be a ghost (read: jisung), he’ll be scared shitless. you can see him get scared and hide behind jeno and hug him so hard when the zombie jumped out in one of those save dream interactive videos. he’s the person you can banter with and he understands dry humor and sarcasm, and I think he’s best for e2l story plot lines because of this lmao but he also fits the best friend role well. he will roast anyone with no mercy with just a few words. he’s artistic. he’s super good at art and has shared several of his beautiful digital drawings before. he’s the person to go to when you want to have long, serious talks at 4 in the morning, and as seen through his radio show, he will try his best to give you advice, even if he may not be experienced enough, but he is trying his hardest to help. if you read some of the advice he gives on his radio show, you can get a better sense of who he is as a person. he’s really insightful and puts a lot of effort into giving the best answer he can. also, he really reminds me of a little brother or someone I want to be best friends with because we can roast people together or talk about paranormal stuff. he just seems really fun to mess around with because he gives funny reactions. he gives off that younger sibling vibe where only your big sister can make fun of you, but once she sees someone else doing it, it’s not ok and she’s gonna go after that person for making her lil bro cry. in a relationship, he wants someone he can trust with his thoughts and interests, such as aliens, and while his s/o may not believe in them, he wants them to genuinely listen to him and not just brush it off. however, he will still roast his s/o into oblivion. it’s how he shows his affection lol. he’ll call you an idiot and cute all in the same sentence. but he’s really a soft and sensitive boy underneath his snappy, sarcastic exterior. he cried when they won first place for the first time. i’m sure he cried when ridin’ reached number one on the charts. he’s attentive and likes affection even though he tries to say he doesn’t. in that one weekly idol dreamie episode, hyuck listed who hated affection, and he wasn’t one of them. he’s a good boy, and underneath all his snarky comments, he wants to be loved and cared for. you can see how he got a lil huffy when jisung chose chenle as his favorite hyung lol he doesn’t express his feelings outwardly as much, but if you’re his s/o, he will quietly adore you in his own way while outwardly being that one snarky couple who banters all the time. he’ll draw pictures of you, secretly have you as his homescreen, or have a secret photo album on his phone of just pictures of you. he’ll complain if you get him a couple item, like a bracelet, but he’ll wear it 24/7 and refuse to give it back to you. he will absolutely lose his shit if he misplaces it. he’ll cook for you if you ask, but he’ll make a big show about fake complaining about it beforehand. I think he’s okay with hand holding and kisses here and there, but he won’t do grand gestures of pda because he thinks those should be more private and between the two of you. he thinks pet names are sappy as heck, and he’ll get terribly embarrassed if you call him one but he’d be like “that’s so gross and corny... but call me that again.” honestly, just tell him ily and his cheeks will turn so red and he’ll bury his face in his hands but he’ll say it back in the quietest voice and he truly does mean it with his whole chest.

JENO :: jeno is someone who fits in so many roles. his character is versatile in a sense. you can make him into a bad boy, the boy next door, your best friend, anybody. his humor is underrated, and he makes funny puns. he’s good at sarcasm and wit, like when he asked jisung if he thought jaemin’s iq was single digits or when the instructor complimented him and said his rap sounded like mark and he was like “oh.... that’s not good.” he worries about being funny. he mentioned losing sleep over it in weekly idol, so please tell him he’s funny and laugh at his jokes ): he really is funny, and i love his humor. jeno is really smart. he managed to rank 4th or something I believe in his school after cram studying the day before. he’s really self-assured and confident in himself, but he doesn’t show off or act cocky, yet you can sense the quiet confidence in him. he’s humble and works hard and deserves more credit than he’s given. he possesses leadership qualities and is a source of strength for other members. i think they said he was one of the cleaner members and when he’s drunk, he cleans LMAO he is into sports and gymming, especially biking. hyuck said that jeno’s bedroom has his and jaemin’s bikes hanging on the walls lol he also is really competitive, but not a sore loser type. jeno doesn’t strike me as the type who needs his s/o around 24/7 and prefers to have hobbies and space separate from his s/o. he’s laid back, but at the same time, still energetic and fun to be around. he’s still weird, but not over the top weird. jeno is insightful and kind, and he has stated that he’s very shy and timid before. doyoung likes him the most because he’s kind and respectful and takes into account other people’s feelings and listens well. he’s a good boy. he’s also really playful and teasing and plays well with others, like jisung jokes around with him all the time. I feel like jisung jokes around with him the most out of all his hyungs aside from chenle because jeno doesn’t get mad. i believe the members say he’s the only one aside from chenle who doesn’t get mad when someone messes up in dance practices. he cries when he gets angry. jeno is also really affectionate. he enjoys cuddling and holding hands and back hugs and whatnot, but he doesn’t overdo it. it takes a long time for him to trust and open up to someone, and you’re a very lucky person if he lets you see this side of him. he won’t force you to do anything you’re uncomfortable with. If something is bothering you, he won’t pry at first if you refuse to talk about it, but I do think he will eventually make you talk if he feels something is terribly wrong or if it’s affecting the relationship. jeno is driven and knows what he wants. he’ll give you space, but if you’re not what he’s looking for or if you don’t put the effort in as well and won’t open up to him, I do think he will move on. he might bottle up his emotions at first, but as the relationship progresses, he’ll be fully open to you and tell you everything. I don’t think he’ll be terribly affected if he’s rejected because he is confident in himself and able to brush it off. he knows his self-worth. oh, and he loves animals. obviously, jeno loves his cats because he has them even when he’s allergic. he’s the type of s/o who, if you mention you’re walking back to your dorm late at night after staying in the art building to finish your painting, he’ll show up with messy hair and his glasses in his sweats with a hoodie thrown on haphazardly and walk you back safely even without you asking. kiss him on his nose at random times just because you love him, and he’ll make that jeno trademark noise of confusion before giving you the prettiest eye smile that makes the moon dim in shame and nuzzling his face into your shoulder shyly. call him jeno darling or jeno love if you want to see the same reaction as before. it’s gonna be a total KO to his heart if you call him that and boop him on the nose with the softest kiss. anyway, jeno is the bestest boy in the entire universe, and give him all your love, please and thank you.

HAECHAN :: hyuck is so fucking talented. he’s good at everything: singing, dancing, rapping, variety shows, you name it. he was born to be an idol. he’s the golden one and excels at everything. he’s an ace, and he knows it. yeah, he’s cocky and brags about everything he does, but he actually has evidence and proof to back it up. plus, no one can stay mad at him for very long because have you seen how cute he is?? he’s a brat, but you still love him anyway. he’s good at sweet talking and getting what he wants. he plays a push and pull game, and you end up falling for him in the end. i know in fics on here, you often see jaemin in the playboy/fuckboy persona, but I think hyuck absolutely exudes this persona. he is able to read the room or a person and knows the exact way to act in order to get the reaction he wants. it’s hyuck’s world, and we’re all just living in it. he can have all of us eating out of the palm of his hand if he desires. i think he truly embodies the traits of a slytherin: ambitious and cunning. it’s every man for himself, and he’ll do whatever it takes to get what he believes he deserves and plays by his own rules. hyuck is so smart and intelligent, both in terms of brains and emotion. he’s absolutely brilliant, and he’s the type of person to ace an exam without even studying for it. I think he did very well in school, and he also beat doyoung in mental maths when they had a competition on weekly idol lol and he’s also street smart. there’s a reason why doyoung and taeil are scared of him and why they prefer to be on his team than against him lmao. I think hyuck is also a people pleaser though. he wants to be liked, and it’ll drive him crazy if someone calls him boring or shows no interest towards him. I think he’ll want a s/o who plays the push and pull game with him. he’ll playfully tease them a lot, and they’ll have to be interesting and able to dazzle him with their own wit and sarcasm. he, like renjun, is snarky and sarcastic. he likes to make people laugh and enjoys being the center of attention. he is super affectionate and rivals jaemin in this aspect. he thrives off of physical touches, hugs, cuddles, etc. he likes to cuddle when he sleeps, and I feel like he enjoys being the little spoon. he isn’t afraid of pda and will show off his s/o to the world with a loud kiss or back hug anywhere. he’s the type who would do that back pocket spin peter does to lara jean lmao. the two of you can laze around at home, while he plays video games on his computer and you can sit in his lap and he’ll do that thing where his arms are around you and his chin is on your shoulder. he’s a good cook, and he’ll cook for you, but he expects you to pay him back in kisses. his s/o might think he doesn’t pay attention to what they’re saying to him, but he does. he absolutely adores his s/o and remembers everything about them. he’s the type to surprise his s/o with their favorite flowers on a random day, and his s/o would’ve thought he wasn’t paying attention when they told him their favorite flower months ago. and please, please, please surprise him with flowers too because that will catch him off guard and you’ll see him blush and get flustered for once. it’s like when the dreamies first debuted, and chenle said hyuck was the best singer and he wanted to be like hyuck, and hyuck got really quiet and shy and flustered about it. however, he’d get really shy around his crush if they weren’t friends first. there’s that video of him returning something that twice’s mono dropped I think and he was so nervous before and afterwards. or there’s that time when he handed flowers to seungwoo and got so flustered as the dreamies teased him afterwards. also, I feel like sometimes people forget that so much hard work goes into what he does because he makes it look so effortless. hyuck works so hard in everything and puts his all into what he does. anyway, please appreciate hyuck and love him lots. he deserves to be showered in love and affection.

JAEMIN :: jaemin is like jeno in the sense that his character is also super versatile. you can make him fit any type of persona for your fic. jaemin is a sweetheart. his entire existence is love. hyuck said that he treats his members the same way he treats his fans in an episode of weekly idol before. he’s a really affectionate person as seen in the way he showers jisung with affection. he eats, sleeps, and breathes aegyo. you’re going to experience his aegyo a lot if you’re his s/o, so brace yourself. he even managed to make hyuck flustered when he kissed him in that recent reload era game video. he has a lot of love to give out, but he also wants the same amount of love in return. you can see how he craves for love from jisung in return and the way he gets a little upset when he doesn’t get it, like when jisung didn’t call him his favorite hyung. his s/o needs to be okay with being showered with affection and love, and they have to do the same for him. call him cute pet names, give him random kisses throughout the day, back hug him while he’s cooking, he will just absolutely glow and bask in your love. jaemin is good at cooking. he will cook for you, and if you cook, he’ll eat what you make with no complaints. it’s like that meme where person A gives person B a drink with salt in it, and person B drinks it all, and when person A asks why they did that even though it was salty, person B says it’s because they didn’t want to hurt person A’s feelings. jaemin is person B. he’ll also make you model for him and pose literally everywhere so he can take pictures of you because you’re the prettiest person in the entire world to him. he’ll make you his lockscreen, homescreen, hang up pictures of you in his room, all that jazz. he’s the one who buys couple items or outfits and makes you wear them with them. his entire Instagram account will be pictures of you or with you. however, he’s also petty af and nags a lot lmao. he complained to jeno when jisung said he wanted to eat bread at 3 a.m. and how he couldn’t go out to buy him any. he also nagged renjun in one of those dream vs dream videos for not having any questions about him, while all his questions were about renjun. or when he was sulking about jeno not knowing his favorite cartoon character. I believe he mentioned having extreme mood swings too where he’s either too quiet or too loud and out there, and as a s/o, you’d have to cater to both sides of him. jaemin is also an introvert. he’s very quiet and shy around strangers, but he’ll unleash his inner weirdness and loudness when he feels comfortable around you, and you’re in for a wild, fun ride. in that video where he and jeno were making cakes, he seems really hyper and wild. same goes for that video where they went out to eat, and jaemin was pouring soda into a glass dramatically. or when they played that dance game where you have to add onto the dance and copy the previous dances, and he added some random flailing motion and complained when someone did it wrong. or when he and renjun were paired up for that guessing game when they both had headphones on, and he started flailing everywhere and getting kinda frustrated at renjun for getting zero right. he’s a bit weird lmao. as his s/o, i hope you go along with his weird antics and have fun with him too! you also have to remind him to take care of himself. make sure he doesn’t drink that ungodly coffee drink of his or eat too much sugar. take care of him, love him, cherish him, and jaemin will be the best boyfriend ever. he might even set up a whole led light display for you at night declaring his love like he did for jeno. actually, no, he definitely will. he’ll do big grand gestures to show his love for you. he’ll fill your house with roses and press kisses to each of your fingertips with a different reason for why he loves you. he’ll continue to list the reasons for why he loves you for every star he sees until he runs out of stars, but he’ll never run out of reasons for loving you.

CHENLE :: chenle was born to be a star. he is so incredibly talented and picks up skills so quickly. it’s evident because he managed to debut after two months of training and he became fluent in korean quickly. he’s humble and gracious, and he’s the embodiment of that miss universe song: he’s beauty, he’s grace. he doesn’t flaunt his wealth, in fact, it only ever comes up because others bring it up. or he accidentally shows it off when he asks what rent means or when he tries to innocently rectify the situation, like when jaemin was like “oh his parents held a concert for him for his bday” and chenle was like “noooo no it was just to make a memory” on idol room lmao. the way he expresses his love is through gift giving. it shows in the way he told mark he’ll buy him anything he wants for his bday or when he gave apple watches to the 00 liners or when he immediately agreed to buy jeno a plane ticket to china to show him around his home. but he’s not trying to flaunt his wealth. this is simply how he shows his love. chenle is laidback and easygoing. he doesn’t care about jisung using honorifics with him, and he’ll go along with whatever’s happening. there’s that one video during mfal era where hyuck and chenle won the prize and hyuck was like “hey I’ll take the prize ok?” and chenle just immediately agrees and doesn’t care at all. but don’t get me wrong, chenle is super competitive. he wants to win, but it’s more about that feeling you get when you’re the winner, rather than the actual prize for him. he’s really into sports, specifically basketball, so i feel like he’d enjoy it if his s/o expressed some sort of interest in it with him. they don’t have to play basketball with him, but he’d appreciate it greatly if they listened to him talk about stephen curry or cheer him on from the sidelines. he’s affectionate. if you read my renjun description, chenle is the other one that hyuck said doesn’t mind affection from the other members on weekly idol. I don’t see him showing affection blatantly as much like hyuck and jaemin, but I think he loves receiving it. chenle obviously receives so much love from his family and is super close to them. he will love his s/o with his whole heart, and I hope his s/o will love him back just as much. also, I’m pretty sure he’ll love his s/o acting cute because his heart rate spiked up when jisung did aegyo on idol room lmao. I think he’s the only other extrovert in the dreamies, besides hyuck. I believe someone asked jaemin or skz hyunjin if they got close after the collab stage, and they said that they were really awkward with each other. however, skz felix and chenle became good friends! chenle is friendly and a people person. he thrives in social settings, and he’s a social butterfly. he’ll help people out of their shells and make sure to include them in conversations. he’s the type of person who would clear his throat and be like “hey y/n has something to say” if you tried to say something in a group convo and weren’t heard. he’s fine with being the center of attention, but he doesn’t actively seek out that position, like hyuck does. unlike hyuck, he’s not a people pleaser. I think he’s confident in himself, and he’s self assured and satisfied with who he is, so he doesn’t really care what others think of him. chenle is really playful. he likes to tease the other members and wreak harmless havoc lol you can see how he plays around with the other members, like in nct life where he just throws snow at jisung or scares jisung with a rubber chicken when they went to an amusement park in shanghai. he’s a thrill seeker. he loves roller coasters, shooting games, laser tag, etc. he gets excited over the littlest things, and he’s a naturally cheerful person who lights up the room and just naturally has people gravitate towards him. however, he has his serious moments too, and I can see him sitting next to his s/o behind the piano and playing something for them. but then, he’ll probably ruin the soft moment by slamming his hands down on the keys and scaring them at the end.

JISUNG :: jisung reminds me of high school puppy love. he’s curious about the world and introspective. he asked the fans to send him pictures of the moon because he couldn’t see it himself. I think he has a lot of deep thoughts and keeps them to himself because he’s introverted and nervous about sharing them aloud in case he’s not taken seriously as the youngest. he’s inquisitive and sweet, and he’s the culmination of everything good in the universe. he’s the one whom renjun talks to about aliens and paranormal things, and I believe he’ll want a s/o who will take him seriously on these things and listens to his concerns without teasing or making fun of him for believing in them. jisung is shy and gets embarrassed when he’s given compliments. there’s this video where the dreamies read compliments from fans aloud, and you can see how flustered and shy he gets as he ducks his head, has to pause and cover his face before playing with his hair as he reads through the compliments with the biggest smile peeking on his face. I think this is the cutest thing ever, and at the beginning of the relationship, if his s/o compliments him or does something cute, he’s going to react exactly like that. tell him his dancing is amazing, watch his fancams around him, tell him his face is nice to look at, etc. and you’ll see him get reduced to a flustered, blushing mess. the first time he sees you wearing one of his sweaters with the sleeves covering your hands and giving you sweater paws, he will combust and stutter and not be able to look at you as his cheeks turn red. he might just suffer a heart attack if you decide to casually call him a cute pet name one day. additionally, jisung is at that age where he wants to know what others think of him and he wants to be liked. I think this is the reason why he’s more hesitant about speaking up or voicing himself in an unfamiliar environment because he doesn’t want to give off a negative image. he’s also painfully shy, but he wants to make friends, which he explains on dancing high. because of this, he truly cherishes any friendship or relationship he has because it’s seen as something incredibly special to him. as his s/o, you’re gonna mean the world to him and he will value your opinion greatly. once he’s comfortable around you, he’ll be loud and talkative. jeno says that jisung talks the most at the dorm and he’s never quiet. jisung is also a lil shit lol, and he knows how to get out of things, like cleaning up after dinner by locking himself in the bathroom. he’s also a little lazy and probably not the cleanest tbh. he sleeps in jaemin’s bed or in the living room because he’s too lazy to go to his top bunk. he doesn’t listen to his hyungs and talks down to them in a playful way because he knows they’re whipped for him lmao. when the relationship progresses, jisung is going to act in the same, exact way with you. he’s a savage, and he will roast you in the same way he roasts his hyungs, like when hyuck wanted to go to LA with him for why not the dancer and he was like “you have to be good at dancing to go” (which btw, fight me, jisung, hyuck is literally the best dancer). he’ll tease you, hide items on the tallest shelf just so that you’ll call him for help, and smush your cheeks and call you cute. he’ll ruffle your hair and run up behind you and sweep you off your feet princess style just to scare you before carefully placing you back down or tossing you into the pool lol he may have complained about carrying renjun in that reload era game video, but he’ll give you piggy backs when you’re tired or carry you around if you asked. he likes playing video games and those block breaker game apps and when he loses, he’ll sit there and pout without realizing it. he does that little nose scrunch unknowingly, and it’s the cutest. he’ll like dates at home the best. he sucks at cooking, but he’ll try to do it for you. but it’ll end up with you cooking while he back hugs you, and you have to walk around the kitchen with him being a koala attached to you as you feed him bits of the food being made.

[bag-of-broadway-snacks]

My Cats Non-Replica Pt. 1

Here, for your viewing pleasure and no body’s request, I give you- My ideal Cats non-replica production. Now complete with drawings that make eyes bleed!  This is a part one so stay tuned and let me know what you think for 2! (Also this is long as fuck sooo)

Overture Okay, so this production is heavily based on my ragdoll au idea from very long ago. Basically, the production takes place in a little girl’s bedroom. During the overture, we see the girl who own’s the room in front of a curtain, playing with a rag doll version of Munkustrap. As the overture ends, the girl’s mother (double cast as Grizabella) moved onto stage and gestures for the girl to follow. So the girl sets her doll of Munkustrap on a chair and moves backstage. Jellicle Songs for Jellicle Cats So the curtain lifts revealing the set. We can see large window in the background (with functioning curtains). There’s several things around the room, a bookshelf, a toy chest, a lamp, a doll bed, a teapot, a fallen over hat, and a play tunnel.

Next to the toy chest, there’s also a chair, a bigger replica of the one we saw in the overture. Slumped over on the chair is Munkustrap, sitting seemingly still until his cue. On his cue, he perks up, looking a cross between the usual cats make up and a rag doll. He gets up as many other cat/toys appear out of various corners of the room. Before singing ‘Are you blind when you’re born?’ Munkustrap looks to the window as the curtains open, revealing a large moon in the background. Prompting the Jellicle ball. The rest of the song continues as normal. (Because there aren’t changes, the naming of the cats progresses as normal) Invitation to the Jellicle Ball So this song continues normally, Victoria dancing her solo before Misto starting up the song. In this version, I imagine the little girl will be shortly going on a trip and is allowed to bring only one toy. The Jellicle choice is to decide who will go with her. The Heaviside layer in this case being the outside world. The Old Gumbie Cat To start off the night, Munkustrap begins singing the Old Gumbie Cat, this time however, rather then a car Jennyanydots enters through the toy chest. Misto going over and undoing the latches before lifting the lid with magic. Jennyanydots is half swaddled in a large, leopard print blanket thats extremely fluffy but limited in movement. During the Gumbie Trio’s first verse she has her normal interactions with ‘The mice’ on the side of the stage. In the background, the other cats are scattering toys and paper across the stage in chaos. During the Gumbie Trio’s second verse, Jenny turns around and is shocked at the mess the others have made. Ever orderly, she throws off her blanket to reveal a leopard spot dress and a tiger stripped apron. The tap number in this case being replaced with a choreographed clean up of the room. With Jenny’s ‘Cockroaches’ who are clothed with tissue paper wings, pipe cleaner antenna, and big glasses for eyes. Once the room is clean again Jenny thanks them and the song ends.

The Rum Tum Tugger This one may be my favorite. So as Jenny’s number trails off she continues to move about the room and tidy things up. She goes up to a tipped over tea pot, preparing to put it upright before the lid is pushed off, causing her to jump in surprise. Out of the tea pot comes Rum Tum Tugger, a particularly fluffy rag doll. He looks very similar to his replica design with a few differences. His spots are more obvious and patchy looking, giving us the idea that he’s even worn and repaired with leopard cloth by the child’s mother. Around one leg his tied a pink ribbon and his ‘belt’ is actually a girl’s hairband he’s been dressed up with. He’s also wearing a black biker vest that most likely came from a doll of some sort. He runs around the room, riling up the others with his flirting and generally causing his usual chaos. In this world he’s extremely popular, being one of the owner’s favorite toys. Of course, all the fun stops abruptly as Grizabella appears, crawling out from behind the bookshelf. Grizabella the Glamour Cat

The cats quickly scatter as Grizabella approaches. She’s a beat up toy, ragged with stuffing sticking out in different places. She’s been chewed on by a couple dogs after venturing out of the room to try and find a different place. The scene mostly progresses as normal, everyone shying away from her, the kittens trying to get close but being warded off by the elder toys. Munkustrap shows no emotion but does gently gesture for Griz to leave before things get worse which she obliges, slowly walking away while her song is song behind her. Bustopher Jones

The mood quickly lifts as Bustopher Jones arrives! He’s a wind up toy, big because of all his fancy mechanics and not used very much thus looking extremely well taken care off. They all great him as normal, turning over a hat for him to sit on while presenting him with different plastic foods for him to eat. They even use a sock as a napkin for him. However the atmosphere of fun is broken quickly as the hear aggressive shouting in the background. (Which is the  distance voice of the girl’s older brother) they scream Macavity before running for the hills, hiding in various places in the room. Mungojerrie and Rumpelteazer  As the stage empties, a large puppet theatre is wheeled out. We hear Rumpelteazer’s laughs before the theatre curtain opens, revealing two stringless puppets, Mungojerrie and Rumpelteazer leap out of the puppet stage and begin their number doing a healthy mix of acrobatics and tearing around the bookshelf, tossing books around and making a show of stealing things like pens and one sock from a pair. Rumpelteazer is wearing a plastic bracelet as a necklace of sorts. They cause their usual mix of chaos before being found out by the rest of the tribe and chased onto the toy box for the next number.

Old Deuteronomy  The next song begins as normal, cats pointing out they sense the Jellicle leader and Munkustrap beginning the song with Tugger and the others joining in later. Slowly, Old D enters the stage. He’s a large, cat themed baby blanket and was the girl’s first ever toy and is thus a ‘father’ to Munkustrap and Tugger. (Who are the girl’s favorites) He greets the tribe before sitting on the chair to observe the ball. The Aweful Battle of the Pekes and the Pollicles Okay so this basically goes as normal so I won’t describe what happens so much as the designs. So the Pollicles are the toms. They wear dangly earrings hanging off their ears to imitate dog ears, dry erase marker caps on their hands to make their feet, and plastic baggies for their other feet. The Pekes are the queens. They wear socks with holes on their heads, and mittens and bags for their hands and feet. The poms merely have little pom pom hair ties fastened around their ears. Now the Rumpus Cat is the most interesting one here. He’ll be double cast as Admetus and is a nightlight. He has a big Cheshire cat light up mask and a light up chest plate as well with a big R on his chest. Other parts of him will ideally light up as well. 

I’m going to skip a bit here, all the way to the second act as there wasn’t much of note during the Jellicle ball portion.

[shutupandshipit]

Sharpen Your Blades - Ch.12

Summary: “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

The thinning of Aizawa’s patience was evident in the twitching of his brow. “If you stop asking questions, maybe I could finish explaining.

”With a huff and roll of his eyes, Katsuki glanced away from their coach.

“City Hall and the SC want us to give them more variety. We are a team solely made up of single skaters. Every year, we dominate the rankings for single skate while Shinketsu dominates the pairs, so this year both cities are being required to split their skaters evenly between singles and pairs with at least one pair coming from out top five.” There was a collective intake of breath, but no one commented, choosing instead to remain silent. “Unfortunately, for us, it’s a lot easier to switch from pairs to singles. With our male to female ratio, alpha/beta/omega ratio, and those of you actually experienced with pair skating, we’re at a disadvantage. So, I’ve decided to choose your partners for you.”

…..

Or where Katsuki and Izuku are forced to be partners so they can continue to compete, but the blood in the water may be thicker than anyone realized.

Pairing: Bakudeku

Rating: T

Chapter: 12/20

Previously <- Chapter 11: Solo

Chapter 13: The Innocence of Children -> Next

Chapter 12: Parents and questions they shouldn’t ask

Katsuki sat on the couch between his parents, eyes down as two men and a little woman he knew very well talked with his parents as if he weren’t there. Or maybe they were trying to include him in the conversation, and he just wasn’t paying attention. He hadn’t been doing a lot of focussing recently, all his attention put into wondering if Izuku was going to end up in the hospital all over again. If one day he’d wake up to Mitsuki telling him there had been an accident. If-

“So, what do you say?”

Blinking quickly, Katsuki raised his head to see Toshinori Yagi staring at him encouragingly, gaunt smile wide and toothy. He glanced to his parents, but they were also staring at him expectantly. Frowning, he muttered, “What?”

Aizawa Shouta was the one to answer this time, sitting forward to draw Katsuki’s attention to him. “Do you want to come train with us for the new generation of Yuuei skaters?”

His immediate, instinctual response was to shout, “Yes!” To accept without a second thought. But there were second thoughts that reared up as he opened his mouth to answer. Thoughts of Izuku in a hospital bed with so many casts and wires. Thoughts of Izuku with distant glassy eyes and his room smelling of heat gone wrong. Thoughts of Izuku smiling hollowly when Mitsuki forced him to go to the hospital and the little, ‘Sorry, Kacchan. At least you won’t have to deal with me on the ice anymore.’

“On one condition.”

“You make this sound like we need you, not the other way around,” Aizawa said, but his dark eyes were keen and curious as they surveyed him.

“On one condition,” Katsuki repeated, eyes trained on the man unflinchingly.

Sitting up straight, Aizawa shrugged. “What is it? Then we’ll decide.”

“My par- My ex-partner. I want you to give him the offer too.”

One of Aizawa’s eyebrows arched up while both of Toshinori’s shot to his hairline. Shuzenji smiled at him. “Midoriya Izuku? The one who got hurt recently?”

“He can come back from it!” Katsuki said, all vehemence as he leaned forward on the couch, “I’ll only agree if he does.”

Aizawa smirked. “Is he good enough?”

Katsuki didn’t even hesitate. “Yes.”

Standing, Aizawa nodded. “We were already considering him, but we appreciate the input. Now it’s all up to him to agree.”

Katsuki stared up at the older man, the older omega who might also be able to help Izuku. “He’ll agree.”

…..

"You want me to what?" Katsuki gripped his phone tight to his ear in complete disbelief. His mother was insane. She was a fucking mad woman if she thought he had the time-

‘Don't take that tone with me, brat. It's been months since you've been home. We want to see you. We're having dinner with an old family friend. It'd be nice if they could see you too,’ Mitsuki said conversationally. There was a lot of banging and thumping going on on the other side of the phone, and he had to wonder what they were doing. He heard Masaru grunt and then yelp.

A little ways down the ice from him, Izuku had his own phone pressed to his ear, a frown tugging at the corners of his usually grinning mouth. He said something, short, simple.

"What the hell are you two even doing right now?" Katsuki finally asked, never taking his eyes from Izuku. He'd come across the first edition of a seriously old figure skating book in an antique store the other day. It was damaged and the owner didn't even realize what he had, and Katsuki had gotten it for barely 500 yen. He wasn't sure when he was going to give it to the nerd, but he wanted to do it soon. After Izuku's performance during practice the week before he felt he had even less time than before.

He felt like he could feel his chance with Izuku slipping away while he grappled desperately for the end of the rope.

Mitsuki hummed on the other side of the phone. ‘Your father is bringing in the Christmas tree so you can decorate it when you get here.’

"Mom, I'm not a child anymore."

Mitsuki was quiet for a long moment, and it took Katsuki longer to realize it was because he'd called her 'mom' and not 'old hag'. He held back a curse, refusing to acknowledge the slip. After a moment, she cleared her throat.

‘Just come home and spend time with us tomorrow. We're not asking for a week. We're not even asking for a whole day. Just dinner with us and some friends.’ Her voice had softened, a tone he hadn't heard from her in what felt like forever. The last time he could remember was the day he'd had to help Inko get Izuku to the hospital. She'd been so soft, and she'd held him close while he struggled to breath through his panic.

"Yeah, sure," he finally muttered, holding Izuku's eyes when he glanced at him.

‘And Katsuki?’

"What?"

‘Is everything alright?’

Inhaling slowly and finally dropping his eyes, trying to keep that memory from coming further to the surface, he muttered, "Yeah. Everything is fine."

‘Good. See you tomorrow. Your dad and I love you.’

"Sure, yeah, love you too." She hung up the phone, but he didn't drop it. He took several more moments just for himself, counting his breaths and grounding himself in the feel of his blades on the ice. He was fine. He was fine. He. Was. Fine.

Dropping his phone, he looked back at Izuku again. The omega was watching him curiously, expression open and receptive.

"What was that about?" Katsuki asked, indicating the now silent phone in Izuku's hand.

"Oh, Mom wants me to stay over tomorrow night since she hasn't seen me in a long time." He bit his lip, glancing away from Katsuki for just a moment. "I know we're in the middle of training, and we've still got a lot of work to do-"

Katsuki didn't let him finish, partly because he could already see his parents' poorly laid out plan, mostly because he could see much how much Izuku wanted to see his mother. "Go. We've still got practice in the morning. Skipping one night won't make that big of a difference."

The explosion of Izuku's smile across his face almost rocked Katsuki back. "Thanks, Kacchan, it'll be really nice to see her again!" There was a very definitive, but significant pause before Izuku continued. "Was everything alright with your call?"

"Yeah, just my parents wanting to see me too." Katsuki could see the relief wash over Izuku's face and straight into his scent. The eerily clean smell had gotten stronger over the passed weeks, and Katsuki hadn't gotten up the nerve to ask Izuku what the fuck he thought he was doing. He'd been saying it for weeks now that he wasn't Izuku's mate. He wasn't entitled to information like that even if he only wanted to protect the omega. Izuku didn't owe him anything, and he wasn't going to pretend like he did by demanding answers from him.

He just didn't want Izuku to get back to that precipice again. He hoped Izuku knew after all these years where that line was.

"It’s so weird that they lined up the days! But then again, our moms have always been kind of scary like that."

"Yeah, what a coincidence," Katsuki said in a monotone because Mitsuki would at least get to see one surprised face. His wouldn't be it though. Pressing play on his phone and pushing away from the wall, he held out a hand to Izuku. "Let's go again before the cleaners come to kick us out."

They hadn't gotten Izuku's feet off the ice yet, but each day, Katsuki felt them getting closer and closer to that moment. He felt like that would be the tipping point. Once they could trust each other enough to perform their tricks is when everything would really start to happen. He fervently hoped for that day to come soon.

"Yeah!" Izuku accepted his hand, but sprinted forward towards center ice, dragging Katsuki along.

…..

Izuku used the spare key to open the door to Inko's apartment. Something in him told him that he should knock, that this wasn't really his home anymore so he didn't have a right to just go inside.

'You have a home with someone else,' his omega whispered traitorously, 'The alpha with the gifts.'

He shook his head and forced himself through the door. 'You're being completely unreasonable,' he shot back, and he knew if he could see his omega, it'd be turning up its nose at him, 'Rude.'

Out loud, he called, "Mom, I'm home!"

Inko bustled around the counter that separated the kitchen from the living room, smiling ear to ear. "Welcome home, baby! It's so nice to see you again!" She hugged him tightly, squeezing him until he wheezed out a breath. When she pulled away though, her nose was scrunched up. "Izuku, I thought the doctors told you to stop taking suppressants."

"I'm not," he lied immediately, and flinched when her eyes flashed.

"I've known your scent since I gave birth to you, and I've also known your scent on suppressants since you started taking them when you were twelve. Don't lie to me." Her face grew worried, voice softer. "I'm just trying to look out for you."

Sighing, Izuku hugged her again. "I know, Mom, sorry. I just hate talking about it. They said I could finish my prescription, and then wouldn't fill it again. It's alright."

"I don’t know, baby, maybe you should just throw them out." Izuku's system immediately rejected that suggestion, and he had to swallow down the growl that rose in the back of his throat. "It would be best if you just started looking into options to help you during your heat since it's going to be more intense this time. I can ask some friends-"

Heat shot up from beneath his collar, thinking about the toy he'd bought at the sex store with Uraraka and Kaminari. The clerk had suggested it for difficult heats. Knotted at the base with an insertable vibrating bullet that could also be used on its own… It had come out most nights since he'd bought it, and it had helped along several lewd fantasies. He did not need nor want anyone else's assistance. One toy was good enough.

"No!" he exclaimed too quickly, "I'll be fine on my own. Thanks, Mom."

Pulling away, Inko sighed. "Well, go put your things away and get ready. Dinner will be ready soon, and our guests will be here soon too."

Stepping around Inko and into his old bedroom that had been converted into a guest room, but still held everything he'd left behind, he asked, "Guests? I didn't know we were having people over tonight." As he turned, there was a knock at the door. Loud and abrasive and mildly rude with the force of it.

“I’ll get it. Go ahead and change,” Inko said with a wave of her head. She didn’t open the door until he was already tucked away in his room.

The voices that filled the living room sounded vaguely familiar from behind the door, but he wasn’t paying too close of attention to them. Instead, he thought of Katsuki’s hands on his waist from that morning as he pulled his t-shirt over his head, and he thought of what Katsuki might actually feel like instead of the toy he’d been using as a substitute. He swiped on a new layer of deodorant and scent blockers. He pressed his shirt to his nose when he was done, and caught the fading scent of the alpha, allspice and cinnamon and something Izuku would have gladly eaten.

Katsuki’s scent calmed an anxiety deep in his chest that he hadn’t even realized had been building. The tight ball in his diaphragm eased, and suddenly it was easier to breathe.

Shaking his head, Izuku threw the t-shirt in his bag and went to find the shirt and slacks his mother had no doubtedly set out for him. Once he was dressed and presentable, he stepped out into the living room and immediately stopped. Standing in the entryway with his mother and father, Kastuki endured a thorough greeting from Inko.

Izuku swallowed thickly, eyes skirting over the tightness of Katsuki’s shirt beneath his heavy down jacket and the sinful curve of his legs in darkly expensive jeans. His mouth watered.

He didn’t have a chance to say anything before crimson eyes flicked to look at him. “Nerd,” Katsuki said as way of greeting. He held a nondescript paper bag in one hand tucked close to his side.

All attention swung to him, and then Masaru and Mitsuki were on him. Mitsuki hugged him close, ruffling his curls and completely disarranging his ponytail.

“Bathroom?” he heard Katsuki ask Inko, and her responding laugh.

“Oh, Katsuki, you know where our restroom is. You don’t have to ask.”

Katsuki eased around the cluster of Izuku and his parents with the brown bag in tow. When he returned, the bag was missing, but Izuku had been corralled at the dining room table and couldn’t go in search of it.

Dinner was… nice. It was really nice actually. An hour passed in relative peace. Inko, Mitsuku and Masaru chattered and ruminated about how long it had been since they’d all gotten together and when Izuku and Katsuki had been younger. Izuku and Katsuki did their best to ignore their parents as they debated patterns and color choices for their costumes. They were scrolling through Izuku’s phone for inspiration when someone cleared their throat.

They looked up at the same time, and Izuku realized just how close they’d been. “What, old hag?” Katsuki snapped in lieu of the silence that had begun to creep in, sitting back into his chair.

Inko and Masaru were smiling gently at them while Mitsuki was smirking knowingly. Izuku felt himself growing hot around the collar as they stared and stared and stared.

“So, when were the two of you going to tell us that you were partners again?” Mitsuki asked all accusation as she crossed her arms over her chest and leaned back in her chair, mimicking her son, “I had to learn from the news of all places. You didn’t think to tell us? Maybe that we even deserved to know?”

“We don’t owe you shit,” Katsuki said more evenly than usual, and Izuku thrilled at the use of the word ‘we’. It had been so long since they’d been a ‘we’ instead of ‘Izuku and Katsuki’. “Why would we have told you?”

Mitsuki rolled her eyes spectacularly. “I don’t know, so we could congratulate you two, maybe?”

“You two started out as partners,” Masaru said in that calm, gentle way of his, “and it’ll be really good to see you two skate together again. You’re great on your own, but you’re at your very best together.”

“That’s great, but I’m still missing where it was any of your business or where you get off demanding the information,” Katsuki responded though his tone had gone soft around the edges.

Instead of responding to Katsuki’s barb, Mitsuki chirped with a wicked grin, “When can we expect you to start properly courting?”

Izuku felt himself flush as readily as he saw Katsuki flush, eyes darting to his father before back to his mother.

“Are you high, old hag?” Katsuki shouted.

Izuku jumped up. “Bathroom!” he called, but pushed into his bedroom instead and closed the door. He slouched against it with closed eyes, thankful that his heart was beating so loudly in his ears that he could barely hear their voices at all. He breathed for several long moments until the rush of blood had quieted. When he opened his eyes again, there was a brown bag with small twine handles sitting on his desk.

Eyes widening, he shoved away from the door and cautiously peaked over the edge of the bag.

Right on top was a sealed pouch with a label on the front. Instead of reading the label, he plucked up the pouch and peeled it open. Summer apples and apricots tickled his nose with the sharper tang of black tea, and he inhaled deeply as he stared down at the herbs. He wasn’t much of a tea drinker, but the colder the weather grew and the higher the snow piled, the more tea he tended to drink. This was just the flavour he tended to gravitate towards as well. A mouthful of summer with every sip. Taking another deep breath, he sealed the pouch back up and set it aside.

Next, he pulled an old battered book out. The cover was tattered and faded, the image that had once decorated the front barely visible at all. When he flipped open the cover, he was distracted by the well loved softness of the pages. It was only when he finally read the title page that he nearly dropped the book. He buried his face against the page and clenched his teeth against the squeal that threatened to spill from his lips. In that moment, all he wanted to do was sit on his floor and read every single word held between the covers.

Instead, he reluctantly set it aside and dug out the last item in the bag.

The longest and softest scarf he’d ever felt unfurled in his hands. It was forest green just like the gloves and beanie he’d been gifted with little white bunny motifs along each end. When he pressed it to his nose, it smelled overwhelmingly of Katsuki, like he’d taken the care and time to properly scent it.

‘They’ve been from Kacchan. They’ve been from Kacchan. They’ve been from Kacchan. Everything-’

‘Gifts from alpha! Courting! Alpha cares! Courting!’ his omega raved, running ecstatic circles in his chest.

He buried his face in the fabric, grinning like a fool. ‘He’s been courting me,’ Izuku thought tenderly, tears pricking hot at his eyes, ‘Why wouldn’t he just give them to me face to face?’ But he knew the answer to that. With their history, he would have done the same as Katsuki if their roles had been reversed. Sitting on the edge of his bed, he just breathed in Katsuki and his new found knowledge. The only place he would have felt warmer would have been right on the edge of a fire.

Someone knocked lightly at his door. After a silent moment where Izuku prayed they’d just go away, Inko said, “Izuku, come back out? We’re about to have dessert.”

With a heavy sigh, Izuku dropped his hands. “Okay,” he called, carefully folding the scarf and placing it on top of the book. He couldn’t help his grin when he stepped out to the dining room again. The conversation had calmed, and he took his seat where Katsuki seemed to be fuming, cheeks rose red in his irritation. Izuku considered reaching over, putting his hand on Katsuki’s thigh, taking his hand, but knew that wouldn’t be well received.

Instead, he nudged Katsuki’s calf with his own.

Katsuki shot him a wounded glare. “You left me here to fend for myself,” he hissed.

“Sorry.”

After another hour of easier banter, the Bakugous stood and started to gather themselves up. Mitsuku and Masaru thanked Inko for the dinner. Hugs were exchanged as goodbyes were given, and Izuku couldn’t rip his eyes away from Katsuki.

"Oh my fuck, stop looking at me like that. If you want to hug me, just hug me already, nerd," Katsuki snapped, eyes narrowed at Izuku.

He had his arms wrapped around Katsuki in the next instant, squeezing him tightly as Katsuki’s own arms settled around him tentatively. They could skate for hours in each others arms, but they could barely exchange a proper hug, and that both humored and incensed Izuku. When he finally pulled away, he was smiling widely. Their parents waited on the other side of the doorway, still chattering away despite the freezing cold. “Thank you for the gifts, Kacchan, I really loved them.”

“I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about,” Katsuki muttered, tugging up the edge of his scarf to cover his mouth and not meeting Izuku’s eyes.

Izuku didn’t let that deter him, smile still firmly in place. “Okay, Kacchan, see you on the ice tomorrow.”

Katsuki glanced at him out of the corner of his eye as he turned towards the door, “Yeah, see you tomorrow.”