#the day the person i bullied became a fugitive

[aceoffangirls]

I have been thinking recently about like the people that knew Percy pre-lighting thief.

Like just image your like Nancy Bobofit or any other of his childhood bullies, that knew Percy as this mammas boy who befriends losers, has ADHD and dyslexia, as well as getting into weird situations to then see the news one day and find out he is a fugitive. To find out that, that the weird kid in your class got kidnapped and had a gun fight on the beach.

[bonky-n-steeb]

𝐵𝑅𝐸𝐴𝑇𝐻𝐸

𝙿𝙰𝚁𝚃 𝙾𝙽𝙴

𝘿𝘼𝙍𝙆!𝘽𝙐𝘾𝙆𝙔 𝘽𝘼𝙍𝙉𝙀𝙎 𝙭 𝙍𝙀𝘼𝘿𝙀𝙍 | 𝙈𝙊𝘽!𝙎𝙏𝙀𝙑𝙀 𝙍𝙊𝙂𝙀𝙍𝙎 𝙓 𝙍𝙀𝘼𝘿𝙀𝙍

𝗦𝗨𝗠𝗠𝗔𝗥𝗬: Your life is as good as it gets. The perfect husband, the perfect daughter, the perfect job. But what you are unaware is that your husband is a deadly assassin and your long-lost friend, now a fearsome mob boss is hell bent on getting you back. But what you don’t know can't hurt you, right?

𝗪𝗔𝗥𝗡𝗜𝗡𝗚𝗦: psychological disorder, PTSD, domestic abuse, yandere, obsession, violence, cursing. If you find any of this triggering please DNI. Also inform me if I left something out.

ᴛʜɪs ɪs ɴᴏᴛ ʙᴇᴛᴀ ʀᴇᴀᴅ, sᴏ ᴀʟʟ ᴍɪsᴛᴀᴋᴇs ᴀʀᴇ ᴍʏ ᴏᴡɴ

Oh, lawd! i have to post everything again! Send me all your energy. If you wanna be tagged, just inform me!

Also, I’ll be changing the story by a little, (or by a lot, idk) from my previous version.

You were feeling like John Travolta from the music video of Stayin’ Alive. Vibing to your own rhythm, living your own freedom. Attending college miles away from your hometown, you were the captain of your ship. Though you loved your parents more than anything, you were glad for the freedom granted upon you.

Your Freshmen year had just begun and you had already made a few friends. But what you didn’t want to accept just yet was your crush on one of them, Bucky. With his steely blue eyes and boyish charm, even a goddess might fall for him, and you were just a mortal. You were simply happy with being friends as you believed he would never like you and well, a little crush never hurt nobody.  

Completing your shift in a local bookstore, just outside the campus, you were walking back, lost in your own thoughts. What caught your attention was a group of howling high schoolers; from the look of it, they were barely a year to two younger than you. A group of tall and popular kids were bullying a skinny, helpless dude; ufff the usual cliché you thought to yourself. What you failed to notice though was his bleeding nose.  

You were a kind soul, always helping others, but you were no fool. All alone in an unknown town, you weren't going to confront the burly teens who were twice your own size. After giggling and cracking some stupid jokes on the poor dude trying to impress a girl, they left him and that’s when you noticed all the blood. You quickly crossed the road and walked towards him. He seemed smaller than he was as he was crouching down and trying to rub all the blood.

“Hey! Pinch your nose, don’t disturb it by rubbing.” you said while bending down. “Uhh, okay... thanks!” he looked at you with big doe eyes and you were utterly mesmerized by the blue oceans he had for his eyes. “Do you.. Do you need something else kid? Where do you live?” you asked giving him a candy and your water bottle. “I’m no kid!” he exclaimed and you flinched.  

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you. You are helping me and here I am shouting at you.” You could clearly see remorse in his eyes and you wondered why would someone hurt him? “yeah, yeah.. It's Okay... now have this candy, the sugar will help you feel better.” you said with a soft smile. “thank you so much... and by the way I live two streets across. I mean I can go by myself, I'm a grown-up.. But...” he trailed off and you helped him get up.

“I’m Steve” he tried his best to smile and you followed by sharing your own name. And with that his chatter train began, he explained that he was just trying to help another girl getting bullied, when the bullies decided to change their target and chase Steve instead.

“you should wear your own mask first and then help others wear theirs.” you quipped and instantly bit your tongue. “Hmm, what?” he asked genuinely curious. “what I meant is that you did what is correct and very brave, but sometimes you gotta think for yourself too. But these are just my thoughts.” you shrugged. “I’ll remember that.” he said with a genuine expression. And after a million thank yous he finally went in his house. By the size of his house, he seemed rich and you wondered maybe this wasn't that cliché.  

☮︎︎☮︎︎☮︎︎☮︎︎☮︎︎

The next day, you were walking back the same road, when you thought of Steve. He really was a kind and sweet person. This world needed more of people like him. And just then you saw him smiling brightly and waving at you, his nose bandaged. He had a huge box in his hand.

“Heyyyyy! Thank you for helping me yesterday. So I just... kinda got this as a ... a token of appreciation. I considered you might like donuts, so I got you this.” He said rubbing his nape. His cheeks had become so red he looked like a ripe tomato. “well, if you haven’t already given me diabetes by saying so many thank yous, after eating sooo many donuts I’ll surely get it.” At that you both chuckled and the atmosphere became lighter. As you picked a donut, he looked at you with such admiration you thought you would melt then and there.

Suddenly with a stern expression you asked “what if it’s drugged?” His eyes widened and he stuttered, “I... I would never do that ...” he looked down and you thought he might cry. “hey waittt.. don’t get so sad.. I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry. I was just joking. I have this really bad habit of saying things when I shouldn’t. God I just ruined everything.” You just made a mental note not to joke around him, he seemed to be quite emotional. Though it was going to be difficult to tame your tongue. “don’t be. I just take things too literally.... anyway let’s have some donuts what say?” He said with such shine in his eyes you wondered whether he was sad just a moment before.

You both walked up to your university campus, munching on donuts. You both shared things about yourselves. You told him how you were passionate in becoming a doctor. He on the other hand talked about his struggles in studying. “will you help me? You are so smart and bright, will you help me study if I have a doubt or something?” he asked giving his big doe eyes.

You weren’t going to agree at first, you had just met him a day ago. But after looking in those calm blue pools of his eyes you agreed. Seeing the joy on his face, you wondered whether he just won an Oscar.

What you didn’t know was that Steve had already fallen in love with you, yes love, he was convinced that you were the one for him, his one true love. Not a moment had he been able to think of anything but you since he had met you. You were everything he needed and wanted and much more. He was simply desperate to spend more time with you.

☮︎︎☮︎︎☮︎︎☮︎︎☮︎︎

It had been around six months since you met Steve. Over the time you two had turned out to be best friends. While Steve had fallen even more in love with you, you had fallen hopelessly in love with bucky. While you always told bucky about Steve and vice versa, you never confessed to Steve about your love for Bucky, thus furthermore increasing his hopes. You desperately wished to make Steve and Bucky meet. They were two important people in your life and you more than anything wished that they got together well.  

Today was the day when you decided to arrange a small meet and greet at the park where you and Steve met every day. You and Bucky walked together towards the tree where you usually sat with Steve waiting there for you. You knew both would like each other, but somewhere deep within your gut you were getting a not-so good feeling about this.  

Steve’s eyes lit up seeing you but as they turned to Bucky, it felt as if all the energy had been sucked out of him. You didn’t like that one bit. “Bucky!?” Steve exclaimed in half disappointment and half fear. “You both... you both know each other?” you ask bewildered. You tried chuckling to lighten the mood but by the looks of it they were sworn enemies, but you prayed that you were wrong. “yeah, we know each other a little too well... Uh... We were good friends once.” Steve quietly admitted.

All this time Bucky had his jaw clenched, dragging in a deep breath he began. “I knew it! I knew it would be you, you little fucker! You want to have everything don’t you? Goddammit! I had this feeling it was you but I thought it was too much of a coincidence, but no. fate had to be so cruel.” you were shocked to see Bucky's sudden outburst. You wondered what conspired between the two, as either hadn’t ever mentioned the other.  

You were snapped out of your thoughts with Bucky calling your name. “let’s go. I don’t want to see him even for a minute more and neither do you.” Bucky started pulling your hand but you stopped him “Bucky no. I guess you have some misunderstanding; Steve is a good person. And you don’t get to tell me who to talk to and who to not.”

Suddenly Bucky turned back to Steve, anger written all over his face. “You didn’t tell her, huh, did you? Don’t worry I'll tell her. Steve is the son of Joseph Rogers and he is the freaking Don Corleone of this area. Do you know how my father died? Steve’s father had him killed just because unknowingly he provided shelter to his father’s fugitive. Steve just pretends to be a caring, emotional person but he is a snake behind that mask, so is everyone in his family.” towards the end Bucky was in tears and you were in utter shock. Now that you tried to remember, Steve never really did tell you much about his family. And the fact that Steve wasn’t denying any single allegation made you want to puke your guts out.

“You have taken too much from me. But not this. Not her. Not the woman I love more than anything.” Bucky said it out loud in the heat of the moment. You were too dumbstruck to even blink. Did Bucky just confess that he loved you?  

Bucky turned to you and held your arm with such softness you wondered if he was just now screaming his lungs out at Steve. “I know I can't tell you who to be with, and I promise I never will in the future, but trust me you want to be caught up with him or his family. And still, if you choose him, well then, I can’t be with you.”

You knew you had to make a choice then and there, there was no going back, and you chose Bucky.

[anyathebloodshell]

Okay, I think it’s time to introduce you to my Horizon OC :3 She has even made an appearance in ‘Litha- Summer Solstice’ (And yup, It’s an Ereloy fanfic xD)

Sooo, here we go ^^

Name: Mirana Ingelberddottir, Sharpblade Mirana

Age: Late 20, she was born years before the Derrangment

Hair: Brown

Eyes: Green

Culture: Oseram, Carja.

Role: Fugitive during the Red Raids, Emissary of Sun King Avad in the Forbidden West, Personal Guard of Sun King Avad.

Relatives: Unnamed Mother (Decassed), Ingelberd (Father, decassed), Helis (Uncle, decassed), Prince Kadaman (Lover, decassed), Unborn son (Decassed due to a miscarriage)

Weapon of choice: Double Swords.

Aliases: Lover of the Fallen Prince, Half-Blood Bastard. 

Story;

Sharpblade Mirana, also known as Mirana Ingelberddottir, is the bastard daughter of an Oseram slave in Sunfall and one of the Kestrels of Mad Sun King Jiran, that it was none other than Helis’s younger brother. Her mother died in childbirth and she was raised by her father and her childhood was completely focused on training both to be the personal guard of Jiran and possible concubine.

Mirana knows she’s an ‘half-blood bastard’ and it didn’t bother her until teenagehood, since she was bullied by her uncle for having Oseram blood in her veins.

During the first days of the Red Raids, Mirana felt disgusted by her own father and by her uncle, and she was eventually scared for what it could have come next. One day Mad Sun King Jiran visited the candidates of his harem in Sunfall, and took an interest in Mirana, and the king forced those women to watch the prisioners getting killed by the Machines in the Sun Ring.

Mirana couldn't stand it anymore and fights the Kestrels that were guarding the candidates and herself, and fights even her own father and uncle, unsuccesfully. Mirana decides to escape and Jiran put a bounty on her.

She wandered in the Sundom for a while until she found a camp outside Meridian, scared that it would be the Kestrels, she invades the camp and much to her surprise Mirana saw that those were Carja rebels against the Mad Sun King and Prince Kadaman was with them.

Mirana had joined them and had a close bond with Kadaman, that it developed into love for each other, and because of their bond, Mirana got pregnant by the Prince, however when Kadaman was thrown into the Sun Ring, as a crime for opressing Jiran, Mirana was forced to fight her uncle, unsuccessfully.

She survived however she had a wound that provoked a miscarriage and lost the baby. Mirana after Kadaman’s death has grown a desire to kill her father and her uncle and she joined in Avad’s rebellion. The two became friends but Avad has grown a crush on her, that it was one sided.

During the Liberation, she faced Ingelberd in an exhausting fight and she succesfully killed her own father, and she didn’t even gave him the chance to turn his face to the Sun. Mirana was one of the people that helped Avad on getting back Meridian along with the Oseram Free-booters. 

After that, Mirana became a personal guard and emissary for Sun King Avad, finally glad that the Red Raids were over. However she didn’t stay in Meridian for long since she wanted to create Alliances for her king in the Forbidden West. She stayed there for a long time, perhaps to forget the blood spilled in the Red Raids or to forget the Royal Family. Nobody knows the truth, but one thing is certain; she is fully faithfull to the Sun court.

Personality: 

Mirana is strongwilled, stubborn and with a sharp tongue, she is not afraid to speak her mind and sometimes she goes with fully Oseram curses. Being an half blood didn’t made her soft and she wouldn’t open herself to anyone, except to people on whom she trusts with her life. She has even a fragile heart and she can’t express her feelings sometimes.

Mirana claims that sometimes the ‘bleeding’ in the heart cannot be cured easily since it would take months or even years to stop it. Besides that she has a caring and gentle side, that tries to kept it locked inside her heart, however it comes out when she’s taking care to children ot talks to them. 

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

All right, here she is, my Mirana ^^ I hope you enjoyed her story ^^

[sideblogforcrimpy-plus]

So I read this prompt on tumblr where you see your soulmate in mirrors and I extended that to reflective surfaces in general for this Ralvez fic that came to me like an epiphany. So. Here’s a lil one.

Title: Reflections (soulmate AU) Words: 1,499 Rated: General. No canon-typical violence but there’s brief mention of Reid’s past traumas

Every day, Spencer tried his best to keep his gaze away from windows, blank screens, even particularly still puddles when he was caught out in the rain. Anything reflective.

The face staring back at him seemed too good to be true. A beautiful complexion with dark hair softening a handsome face, and the kindest eyes Spencer had never actually seen in person. In moments of weakness, he’d rub his thumb and forefinger together before glancing around to make sure no one could see him before taking a look at the reflection staring back at him. It was stupid maybe, to take such care that no one see him, but it felt like a private moment. Like crying in anger and knowing that you’d be taken less seriously; he didn’t need to be seen as ‘mooning over’ his soulmate. He didn’t even know if he’d ever meet him.

He’d seen the way Penelope and Derek’s relationship had gone; they immediately started calling each other pet-names, but their relationship was that of destined friends rather than lovers. Soulmates could mean any sort of relationship; they weren’t inherently romantic. But Spencer wanted his to be. He wondered if Mr Maybe Average Height, Dark, and Handsome would come into his life being the most attractive person Spencer’s ever set his eyes on only to find their soulbond would be like Derek and Garcia, rather than Hotch and Hayley. He also wondered if when Hotch was looking at mirrors if he was missing Hayley’s reflection or agonising over seeing it.

He’d been moving back and forth through the precinct they were holed up in, bouncing between watching Tara interview their unsub through the one-way-mirror with Emily and the rest of the team brainstorming down the hall. Each time he walked up and down that hall, the image of his soulmate walked beside him. It made him feel both hemmed in and comforted.

This stranger had been with him since his teen years. This silent company with lips that seemed always ready to smile. He’d watched as some peach fuzz turned into manicured facial hair and admired the changes. When he was in a good mood, these were the tracks his thoughts moved along. When he was in a bad mood, he anguished over the thought of this voiceless watcher seeing him go through trauma after trauma. He’d wondered too, if this other person had avoided looking at surfaces with just a bit too much shine because of it.

Trudging back down the hall with a list of questions the team had written out for Tara, Spencer paused at one of the windows in the hall. The ever-present image of his soulmate was slightly off-centre, and had a heart-stoppingly warm smile. It made Spencer take in a deep breath, like a weight was lifted off his chest and it could expand properly now. He smiled back, and almost walked away before the image's hand in the window actually lifted as if saying ‘wait. Stay there’.

He did wait for a second before realising it was stupid to follow the command of a reflection. Then realised it was more stupid to think that a reflection could ask him to wait when generally they stay still, at most wearing an expression matching the feelings of the person they’re depicting. That was another topic of ‘bad mood thoughts’ Spencer had sometimes.

These things were still whirring through his mind when a door in the hall beside the window opened, and Spencer’s feet became fixed to the floor. He had the urge to run, to keep distance between this man and himself so that his quiet comfort stayed exactly that. He knew what to expect with it, and the thought of change filled him with fear. But he’d also spent years wanting to push his fingers through dark and curly hair. Wanting more senses to become familiar with the man than just sight. What did he smell like? What was his voice like?

Spencer found with a jolt he was learning what the voice sounded like while quite unprepared.

“-finally see you. This is just- wow, right? I’m Luke, Luke Alvez.”

He already knew the name, because Emily had told everyone that the new team member would have to meet them while they were away on a case. But he never would have guessed-

“Who could have thought we’d meet here? Do you work here?”

“I-I uh, I’m Spencer. Reid, Spencer Reid.” It was then that he noticed Luke had begun to hold his hand out like he was going to shake Spencer’s, and he’d instead slipped it in his pocket.

“Your reputation precedes you, Dr Reid.” His smile made Spencer’s heart feel more present in his chest, and it frustrated him that he couldn’t properly explain the feeling. Like its beating was more deeply felt throughout his body.

“Luke, you said?” He was stalling; he’d take the memory of every moment in this interaction with the man before him to the grave.

“Yeah, Luke. I’d really love to get to know you Spencer, but I’m here on work you know.” The shape of his lips changed to a playful grin and Spencer’s knees felt weak. “Care to show me around, at least?”

-

Spencer had started to think that he’d keep this ‘meeting his soulmate’ business under wraps, maybe break it to the team after they’d gone back home and Spencer had some time with Luke. Those plans were promptly thrown aside when Luke happily exclaimed about how excited he was meeting his soulmate to the team when they enquired about his infectiously high spirits.

Spencer thought he’d feel something, scared, maybe, about this new information being exposed before he could properly process it. But seeing how happy Luke was had the feeling melt away before it really took root.

-

“You know, seeing you through the years has been a rollercoaster ride I did not sign up for.” Luke had taken Spencer out to the middle of nowhere, and the two were laying down on a blanket and looking up at the stars. Having learnt about Spencer’s aversion to the dark, he’d brought two battery powered lanterns and set them down at opposite corners of their blanket.

It wasn’t necessary, given the light from the moon and stars, but the thought left a sweet feeling moving through Spencer’s body.

“Oh?”

“Yeah. A couple years ago seemed the roughest for you though. I don’t want to pry and make you uncomfortable, but if you want to share, or vent, or anything... Well, I’m all ears.”

Spencer squeezed Luke’s hand in his, rubbing his thumb on the side of Luke’s hand as he took a moment to think.

“I don’t mind answering, but it’s not the happiest story. Which you may have guessed, having been able to see me at least a little at the time.”

“I want to learn everything about you Spencer, so that I can love everything about you.” Luke brought their hands up to kiss the back of Spencer’s, unaware of the almost overwhelming feelings Spencer was going through.

They spent the night quietly sharing the bad and the good, the big and the small, from their lives before they met. Luke ended up pulling Spencer closer so that Spencer’s head was on his chest, his arms around the younger man’s body. Only after hours went by and Spencer thought he might fall asleep did Luke make them get back in the car and head home. Luke was renting an apartment he’d picked out before needing to move after transferring from the fugitive taskforce, but he’d spent a lot of his nights at Spencer’s, with Roxy tagging along now more often than not.

Luke took Spencer up and went back to his apartment to pick up Roxy before returning. By the time they were all in bed, the horizon had started brightening. The light seeping in through the edges of the curtain cast the room in a pale glow, showing Spencer curled up in Luke’s arms, and Roxy on a bed Spencer had bought for her at the foot of their own bed.

Now, when Spencer caught himself looking at Luke’s image in windows and mirrors, he took a little extra time to smile back in case Luke was seeing him at the same time. He knew the approximate likelihood was low when he thought of where else Luke could be, but was making up for lost smiles. He’s learned about the concern and pain Luke had felt seeing Spencer through the hardest times, bullying in high school, the loss of loved ones, as well as his abduction and addiction. Now, Luke made a point of telling him things like ‘I saw you smiling today, it felt good. Anything you want to share?’ As well as ‘I was trying to work today and I saw some idiot grinning back at me when my monitor died. Did you plan that?’

Now, Spencer sought out Luke’s image every day.

[hiro-gari]

Batarou songfic - “MIRACLE” by: Little1993lamb

Hello I’m back again with more Batarou content! 🙋😉💕

This time is not exactly headcanon, but instead I recommended you a heartfelt yet also hearwarming song: “キセキ” or “Kiseki” (Miracle) by Uemura Kana.

That song is kinda fits Batarou relationship. It’s best to consider the song was from Garou’s POV when he reflected about his life with Badd since their fated meeting until they’re become together as lovers.

Also, I was inspired by recently Batarou sketch from @the-goddessfighter, as I wrote the last scene of this songfic based on the drawing: https://the-goddessfighter.tumblr.com/post/643602679242883072/

Please enjoy this little songfic! 😉💕

—————————-

*The song lyrics translation:

Your eyes shine like an innocent child Before I knew it, I was chasing your smiling face all the time

I want to raise the loving feelings now like a flower that begins to bloom in my heart

I had gone up until now without knowing true warmth You were the one who taught it to me The moment I felt the love I couldn’t say, everything looked different

I looked up at the blue sky; even though I’m this close to you The closer we are, the further we get; we’ll only get separated

Now the love song flows in my heart Can you hear the sweet melody, too?

It’s not a coincidence we met then It was a miracle that we searched for You are the mirror that reflects my soul and I’m always, always looking at you

I had gone up until now without knowing true warmth You were the one who taught it to me The moment I felt the love I couldn’t say, everything changed that day

It’s not a coincidence we met It was a miracle that we searched for You are the mirror that reflects my soul I’m glad that I met you in this world

—————————–

Based off the lyrics, please listening to the song while imagining this kind of scenario..

—————————–

–🌸 Your eyes shine like an innocent child Before I knew it, I was chasing your smiling face all the time 🌸–

Garou just realized that he always Badd’s genuine tender smile and those sharp eyes full of adoration in which he showed for Garou only.

Never had thought that the delinquent hero has a very soft side that almost like an innocent child, not as a brute fighter teenager.

Before the former hero hunter knew it, he was chasing Badd’s angelic smiling face all the time. He yearned to make Badd smile for him even just for the slightest.

–🌸 I want to raise the loving feelings now like a flower that begins to bloom in my heart 🌸–

Garou wanted to convey this blooming romantic feelings for Badd, as it grows bigger throughout time the more he spends time together with the beautiful hero.

–🌸 I had gone up until now without knowing true warmth You were the one who taught it to me The moment I felt the love I couldn’t say, everything looked different 🌸–

Ever since he was a little kid until now, Garou never knowing nor receiving true warmth. Not from his absent parents, not from his friends, not even from Bang.

It was Badd who taught it to him, giving it unconditionally day by day during the time they have spent together. So patiently healing and comforting Garou’s wounded heart without fail.

The moment Garou realized he was falling in love with Badd, he couldn’t tell anything to him. He didn’t know what he supposed to say because he just experienced it for the first time in his life.

Everything looked so different once Garou tasted what first love is.

–🌸 I looked up at the blue sky; even though I’m this close to you The closer we are, the further we get; we’ll only get separated 🌸–

Back then when they were still on different sides, Garou had tried to get closer to the hero “Metal Bat” on that fated day. And he was succeeded at doing it as Garou fought him, getting as close as possible to him in a one-on-one combat.

Also for the second time of their encounter in different battlefield, where Garou showed Badd a different side of him.

But the closer they are with each other during those situations, the further they have got. They would only got separated as it became more clearer Badd and him were on two polar opposite: Garou was a monster villain and Badd was an S-Class hero. The ultimate evil vs the ultimate good.

Garou had already convinced himself that Badd was just as the same as the other S-Class heroes who mocked his defeat and wanting him perished.

But he was wrong. Badd was coming to defend him, shielding Garou from any judgemental eyes by his own wrecked and bloodied body.

And just before Garou took the chance to run away, he could see Badd’s understanding smile for him.

–🌸 Now the love song flows in my heart Can you hear the sweet melody, too? 🌸–

During the time of him being fugitive, Garou couldn’t forget of what Badd had done. He wondered if he would meet the kindhearted delinquent hero once again someday, somewhere.

Unbeknown by himself, a newfound feeling has grown in Garou’s heart, filling it with so much yearning and longing. Just like a poetic love song, Garou dedicated it to the beautiful hero.

Could Badd also heard and feel it, too?

Then one day, Garou’s wish came true. He met Badd again for the third time when Badd found him trying to do his best to blend with society by working on part-time job, paying off all of his crimes he had done in the past.

And this time, Badd offered Garou to live together with him. So Garou wont be alone and lonely anymore.

Even more, Badd also encouraged him to become what he wanted all along: a hero.

–🌸 It’s not a coincidence we met then It was a miracle that we searched for You are the mirror that reflects my soul and I’m always, always looking at you 🌸–

Garou believed that it was not a coincidence they have met then. It was a destiny, a “miracle” that allowed them to connect with each other. To understand each other despite the rough beginning. Something that Garou have been searching for after all this time. And he found it in Badd.

For him, Badd is the mirror that reflected his soul. Maybe even the perfected mirror of what Garou himself could be if he just believed in himself.

Badd is everything that Garou really wanted to be. A hero.

The brave, strong, yet very kindhearted one. Someone who doesn’t seek for a popularity and just doing what he should do to protect people he loves.

Secretly smart and have good intelligence to use it in battlefield, despite people’s misjudgement. Always choose to fight in a fair game, never being a bully. Using his strength when he was on duty only, not flaunting it in front of people to show it off.

Doesn’t afraid to show kindness and his softer side to people who need his help, treating them with so much patient and tenderness.

Protected the outcast, weaker kids, and encouraging them to reach whatever they have been dreaming for, as Badd himself was also an outcast kid back then. Doesn’t believe in absolute justice, as he believes in fairness.

An ideal hero, just like what Garou has always wanted to be. His ideal hero.

That’s why Garou will be always, always looking at Badd. He will be always looking at him with deep respect, admiration and adoration. Giving Badd all of appreciation that he definitely deserved.

As a hero, and also as a person.

–🌸 I had gone up until now without knowing true warmth You were the one who taught it to me The moment I felt the love I couldn’t say, everything changed that day 🌸–

Ever since Garou lives together with Badd, he feels so blessed by Badd’s warmth presence. No matter how damping or ruined his day, Badd has always makes sure to shower him with love, support, and comfort.

Garou, who doesn’t know how to accept genuine affections before, slowly warmed up to Badd. He learned what is love and how to reciprocate someone’s love from Badd. Learning how to trust someone who believed in him.

Badd was the one who taught Garou all of that.

–🌸 It’s not a coincidence we met It was a miracle that we searched for You are the mirror that reflects my soul I’m glad that I met you in this world 🌸–

Both Garou and Badd believed that their fated encounters were not some coincidences. Those are a “miracle” that they have been searching for their whole life.

To find, complement and complete each other. In the all of imperfectness of their own that could be filled with the other’s. So they would be perfecting each other.

To become soulmates.

They’re so different yet also very similar at the same time, like a reflection on a mirror, which revealing their souls inside; their true self.

Once Garou and Badd recognized the other’s true self after having long way of mutual pinings, they immediately embraced each other, uniting and solidifying their love in a happy confessions.

It was a miracle that Garou finally found someone who understand him and being a half part of him.

Now that they have become lovers, Garou wanted to appreciate Badd wholeheartedly. He will cherished him for the rest of his life..

–🌸 “…” 🌸–

Today is their 1st dating anniversary and he asked Badd to walk together with him, going out to watching the Magnolia trees blooming on the top of City S’ highest hill. They always go there whenever they wanted some peace or to refreshing their mind after long missions together, it eventually becomes their favorite private place.

Finally reaching the place, they stood under a huge Magnolia tree, enjoying the magnificent sight of it from below. It’s already on spring season so all of the flowering trees were already blooming, including this tree they’re currently standing under.

Badd was mesmerized by the majestic panorama around them. The spring breeze of wind made the pink Magnolia delicate flower petals falling down onto the ground.

Some of them were landing on Badd’s silky messy hair, which making Badd looked even more prettier. Garou couldn’t help but admired the angelic figure of his beloved hero beside him.

Garou wanted to tell Badd that he’s the most beautiful man Garou ever seen and made him fell in love the second he laid his eyes on Badd, a dignified person who has a great talent as a hero, has a pure and soft heart.

With tenderness, Garou approaching Badd and embraced his boyfriend tightly from behind. His arms encircled Badd’s waist protectively, as Garou gently kissed Badd’s nape and the soft flesh on his neck.

Feeling his boyfriend’s intimate loving gesture, Badd just looking at Garou behind him with loveliest smile and such adoration twinkling in his eyes.

Badd slowly put his own hands on top of Garou’s hands, enveloped the colder hands with his own warm ones. Their fingers intertwined to emphasize their intimacy in such romantic moment like this.

Then, with his rare tenderly voice, Garou whispered his deepest feeling of gratefulness he has for Badd into his ear:

– “I’m glad that I met you in this world, Badd. Thank you for having me in your life. Gonna loving you forever.. ” –

Badd was blushed at that moment Garou take a look of him with that stupidly soft grin, and whispered again that Badd looked beautiful as ever.

The young hero was chuckling lightly as an immediate response, simple yet joyful smile showed on his face. Only for Garou.

Finally, Garou kissed Badd’s cheek and caught Badd’s plushy lips for some heartfelt kisses.

They proceed to share their sweet moments together under the Magnolia tree, where noone else was around to witness them.

Celebrating their Miracle together, just two of them..

——————————

🌻 THE END 🌻

—————————–

Notes:

So how was it? 😳✨ I’m so sorry if the songfic was so messy and mostly makes no sense, as it was only a bunch of jumbled incoherent words 😅💦

Also, I apologized if I lately didn’t write much headcanons or ficlets like before. Writer’s block combined by burnout and demotivation thoughts hits me hard nowadays 😢 But I’ll try to keep going so the Batarou fandom still have new contents, hope you guys wont get bored of me yet, ehehe 😊😆

Special thanks always being delivered for: @hiro-gari, @the-goddessfighter, @kaincuro, @guby1620, @garous-nipple, @jusqu-une-etudiante, and @lovelybutnot-ablankcanvas, also all of Batarou shippers in the fandom! 😘💖💖

By the way, to @the-goddessfighter: When I was listening to the song, I couldn’t help but thinking that the part of the lyrics on “I had gone up until now without knowing true warmth, You were the one who taught it to me” and “I’m glad that I met you in this world”, are kinda matched your super tender Batarou sketch illustration I love it so much! 😣💕💖

Thus I made this songfic based on both the song and your art! Think of this songfic as my way to cheer you up during busy weeks, hopefully you didn’t mind about it 😅🙇

Love you all, and hope you guys have many great days~ 😚😘❤💜💙💖💝🌸🌻💐

-Little1993lamb-

—————————–

~Lilia:

😭😭 Pulling at my heartstrings as always~ I LOVE IT!! These lyrics got me in my feels so much! The song describes their relationship so perfectly hnnnng 💕 Thank you for the translation and the fluffy scenario to complement it, this made my whole day!

[elfandomdelpandicornioyeldorito]

Chapter 2. Coffee and Meetings (Willow Series)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Valentina Rivera (OC)

Word count:1283

Trigger Warning: meeting Steve, Sam, Nat and Wanda. Bucky being unsure at first. Love at first sight? A bit of latinx food. Mentions of dead parent. Fluff (i guess) and angst

Disclaimer: I don’t own any Marvel character, only the Original Characters are mine. English is not my mother tongue.

General Masterlist - Willow Series Masterlist- Abuelita Rivera Spanish Lesson- The Val Playlist

Gifts and pictures aren’t mine

Three months passed since Shuri established Valentina in a hut in the countryside of Wakanda, it was nice, her neighbors were really apart from each other, the nights were full of sounds from nocturnal animals and she felt close to her mom even when she was far away from her roots or her grave. Val felt free for the very first time in her whole life.

Bucky was surly with her the first weeks, but it was his normal since HYDRA, being always defensive, observant and distant from the people, old habits. He remembers how awkward everything felt when she took the initiative to speak to him, mostly about his goats, the second time they spoke was about his agriculture technique and the reason why nothing was growing properly, and from there, he remember the first coffee she chose to share with him and the first time he ate plantain tart patty. “In Costa Rica they call it plantintá, and you are lucky because this” she moves her tart patty, half eaten “is my mom's secret recipe, actually my grand grand parents version, but you get it” Buckys remembers.

The White Wolf also remembered the first days he spent watching her at the distance, it was his way to know she wasn’t a threat but with the pass of the time it became a way in which he made sure she was fine.

This time, at the distance and with the midday sun, he noticed that Valentina had two braids, one each side and very tight, it was unusual, she was always showing her natural brown half curly-half straight hair, he started to think that she was proud of that wild hair.

"She wasn’t here the last time" notice Wanda

"Yeah, Shuri brought her" answered the man

"The royal family is adopting foreigners or something?"

"Nat" the tone of Steve’s voice shows he do not agree with the tone of the Black Widow

Steve and his “fugitive” friends come to visit Bucky when they can and when it is safe to travel to Wakanda in the stolen Quinjet, that day was one of them, most of the time they stay like a week or so and then leave again.

Bucky was so focused on his conversation with his long time friend that he didn’t notice the small women approaching his direction.

"Hey" she greeted shyly, as always when she was insecure if it was a good moment "I think we have to set some limits to your goats… again" Bucky's sight focus for a brief moment in the gold pendant with lilies engraved from her necklace, but as fast as he could, he focus his sight on her face, again.

"What they did this time?"

"They are eating my recently clean bed sheet, so I need you to move those hell animals far away of my things" Bucky doesn’t give a verbal answer, but she knows that he is going to guide his goats to a new direction when he stand up from his bale of hay "Thanks!" Val look back for a little moment, smiling.

Suddenly everything feels awkward, she turns again, only to face Bucky's friends.

"Hi! I'm Valentina, call me Val, nice to meet you" the woman smiles in a friendly way and gives a strong but firm handshake to all the friends of Barnes "Have you all already eaten something? I have soup and coffee in my hut"

"I don't know you, but I take that offer" answered Sam.

Val laughs a bit, and makes Sam follow her, not long enough, the rest were following her.

"How long have you been here?" asked Steve

"In this side, about three months, in the country about five months or so"

"What are you doing here exactly?" Val looks at the Black Widow

"I'm doing a bit of field research of Wakanda educational culture and their educational system in general. One of my professors is from here so he got us the chance to come and research some subjects. Is me and 7 more people but Queen Ramonda allow me to be here, it was Shuri idea also"

Valentina's hut was in a perfect order, but at the same time had this feeling of home. The food was in clay pots in a wooden table close to the wall at the left side, that could be the kitchen side of a western house. The right side could be considered her room, and the suitcases had the function of furniture, on them were a battery lamp and books, also a water bottle. On the bed was a case, apparently a guitar.

She doesn't make anyone wait, as fast as she can she starts serving everyone food, with great animosity, if all of them were her closest friends.

"How do you say this is called again?" Bucky heard Sam when he was approaching the entrance, it was his first time in Val's home.

"Olla de carne" she answered, taking a sip of her coffee "is basically beef soup with carrot, sweet potato, potatoes…"

"Man, you are lucky your neighbor cooks this good" said Sam when Bucky finally enters.

Valentina watches him with a soft smile, taking one of her clay coups, pouring black coffee there and giving it to him. He accepts it with a nod.

It was kind of a silent tradition between them, every evening she would make her way to Bucky in his farm work, drink coffee together, some days he ate something she was able to bake in a very improvised way. She remembered that he drank his coffee black with no sweet in it.

"Little angry Steve isn't that angry" Val voices appear finally.

That evening his friends left early, that means he could finish his work for the day, and as an usual day, Valentina was always there, reading, sitting in the grass.

"He is angry only with people that is a potential bully"

She didn't answer. He turns around, only to find her completely in the book, she had a dead serious Face, that also was funny in her features of a sweet happy girl she usually portrays.

Bucky decides it is time to stop for the day, and sits close to her. It felt weird, she was always around him wanting to know about him.

"Books and history are biased, I want the version of James Barnes, not the version of some creepy winner historian allied with a state" she said to him once at the very start of their unusual friendship, if that can be called that way. Today was the day he finally let his curiosity appear.

"What kind of flower is engraved in your pendant?" Bucky instantly regrets his question, but she smiles with a bit of sadness in her eyes.

"They are lillies. Those were my mom's favorite flowers… Actually this was her necklace"

"What happened to her?"

"Mom died when I was Ten, heart disease. I was lucky to have such a strong lady as my mother, the same way I am lucky to have been raised by my grandma when mom passed away." she makes a pause, watching the sky "I try to use the necklace every day, back at home in New York, we always have some lilies in the living room, is our way of keeping her alive in the memory"

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked"

"Is fine, Buck. You are only curious to know your noisy neighbor. Keep asking if you want"

Relieved. Bucky feels relieved that she isn't mad at him for asking personal questions. But he also feels nervous of such honesty and familiarity.

Is this what a stable normality feels and looks like?

Tag list: @pinkpondofasgard @dance-dreamer @invisibleanonymousmonsters @americasmarauders @autumn-and-rain

[bakudekuficlibrary]

Hey, do you have any fics where Deku calms Bakugo down from a panic attack or some sort of anger episode? Or vise versa?

I payed more attention to fics that focused solely on the requested idea or had multiple scenes of it. (and boy was there a decent amount!) If you know of longer fics that include this idea (even if it’s your own XD) feel free to reblog or reply with them so people can find them in the notes c:

-Jay 

30 Works.

Dark Side of the Sun by Synnie( T | 51,597 | 20/20 )

Staying up too late playing video games, Kirishima wasn’t expecting to get an urgent call begging for help. Next thing he knew, he was letting his classmate Izuku Midoriya take refuge in his apartment - without consulting his always angry roommate.

SeriesPart 1 of Dark Side of Space

[Graphic Depictions of Violence | Past Abuse | Self-Harm]

Can We Not? by vulcanhighblood( T | 32,740+ | 17/? )

Journalist Midoriya Izuku stumbles across Ground Zero brutalizing a vending machine. Unfortunately, he can’t just walk away from a Pro Hero in dire need of caffeine. So when a hero on the brink shakes him down for coffee, only to offer a coffee date in return…? Well, he doesn’t refuse. (He does, however, get said hero’s number, and ends up spending a lot more time with him than could have been predicted based on that first encounter.)

Grief Counseling by Merrywetherweather( E | 48,279 | 19/19 )

Katsuki remembered the first time he had failed to save someone, watched helplessly in horror as an elderly man had been crushed beneath the girth of a thrown car. He had already propelled himself forward to grab a small boy when he noticed, too late, the car fly by overhead. Two other heroes had been on the scene at the time and had assured him.

There was nothing that could have been done.

Most of class 1-A had already gone through a similar experience. The only one left with a clean track record in the rescue department had been Deku.

Well, except for today.

A slowburn fic where Kacchan tries to convince Deku to take advantage of the grief counseling provided for free to heroes experiencing their first failed rescues. Lots of flirting. Healing their relationship comes first. The romantic bit where they fall helplessly and stupidly in love comes after.

[PSTD | Panic Attacks]

Dream Sweet in Sea Major by showtiime ( M | 122,562 | 22/22 )

The day of the Hero Incident ends much more horribly than anyone could’ve imagined, but only Izuku knows that. He thinks as long as he forces himself to push through it that he can get over it, but of course, that’s not how things go. His mom, friends, teachers, and even his childhood friend-turned-rival take note of his odd behavior and try to help, but he refuses to talk about what really happened. How long and how thin will Bakugou’s patience go until Izuku finally confides and accepts the help he needs?

(in this fic, Shigaraki takes more from Izuku than he should’ve, Katsuki comes with the class that day at the mall, and there are still finals to be taken. Plenty can happen in only five to six weeks.)

(playlist)

[Rape/Non-Con | Underage | Abuse | Dissociation | PTSD | Panic Attacks | Suicide Attempt | Self-Harm]

Paper Moons and Glass Stars by Soundsoftherain( M | 82,948 | 18/18 )

The last time Katsuki had seen that mess of green hair had been during the summer after their first year of middle school, a boy sculpted from the purest sunlight sadly waving goodbye as he moved away.

That had been seven years ago.

Now that mop of wild curls was straddling his lap while scantily clad in black, leaving little to the imagination. The shy boy he once knew was now the star of Paper Moon, a strip club he’d been unwillingly dragged to by his friends. But through the muffled music one thought overwhelmed the raging whirlpool of his mind.

…What the actual fuck?

SeriesPart 1 of Glass Stars

[Graphic Depictions Of Violence | Panic Attacks | Stalking]

be loved by bonnia( T | 5,403 | 1/1 )

They sit there, in the darkness of the common room, about a few centimeters between them, but miles apart. Somehow, the quiet is companionable. More than it has been in many years. Katsuki knows he’s responsible for the rift between them, and he knows even more that it can’t only be Deku who attempts to mend it.

“Hey,” he says, after a while, and Deku turns to him in question, but Katsuki refuses to look his way. “Touch me again.”

(or: the kidnapping incident leaves bakugou traumatised about being touched on the back of his neck, and midoriya decides to take matters into his own hands)

[Panic Attacks | PTSD]

2,645 Miles by mynameis152( E | 131,839 | 38/38 )

Izuku wants so badly to get to the other side of the country without his parents realizing he’s missing. He just wants to find out who he is.

Katsuki is desperate to make it to Los Angeles without being caught by the police, desperate to fix his mistakes.

Neither know what to expect, but on a roadtrip across the U.S. involving four fugitives, two oblivious runaways, a high risk crime ring, and a police taskforce, the two will discover that there’s more in store for them than what they originally thought.

SeriesPart 1 of Guide Me Home To You

[Graphic Depictions of Violence | Panic Attacks | Attempted Sexual Assault]

As One by semiautomatichearts( G | 2,508 | 1/1 )

Katsuki knows Izuku as he knows himself, as he knows the worn pages of a treasured book, the creases within his own hand.

He sees when something is wrong, and reaches across abyssal expanses, past the maw of his own pride, and he heals.

[Panic Attacks]

What’s up danger by The_Crafty_Cracker( M | 2,220 | 1/1 )

Because apparently,The fic where Deku punches a bigoted entailed asshole Alpha in the face wasn’t an appropriate title.

Poor Katsuki has his handful with his mate nearly getting arrested, again!

P.S there is also a joke about a quiche.

Super Mario Maker by Pop_Rocks (v_love)( E | 3,734 | 1/1 )

Midoriya is smart, and a nerd, meaning that when the entire class decided to take on the aspect of buying Super Mario Maker for the collection of games in the common area that he became sort of a living legend when it came to designing the levels.

Some were just joyous well designed little prank-type levels, others were difficult — but not impossible — and the rest? Well, those were impossible.

For all but one.

His Kacchan.

————

In which Bakugou rages.

SeriesPart 4 of Kacchan and Deku’s Shenanigans

Out Of Darkness by Arrival_Of_Dawn ( M | 78,364+ | 18/? )

Izuku Midoriya is legally dead for forty two minutes at the hands of a new villain, Nightmare. They are the longest forty two minutes as Izuku finds himself trapped in his own personal hell. He may have come back from nightmare induced death, but that does not mean the nightmares are gone. They haunt him at any given moment and neither he nor anyone else knows how to save him.

[Graphic Depictions Of Violence | Panic Attacks]

Twenty-Four by SharkbaitSekki( T | 15,874 | 1/1 )

Izuku gets himself kidnapped, and Katsuki is dragged into it with him as they face villains with particularly terrifying illusion Quirks.

It ends up being a living nightmare, but Katsuki can’t bring himself to regret following Izuku into it all. Because between the pain and the terror, between the lies and the illusions, between life and death, at least they can always hang onto one another. Even if everything else is fake, they know that they will always be real.

[Graphic Depictions Of Violence] 

Chapter 26 of an entire month for the broccoli boy and the shouty boy by Kasplode( T | 23,200 | 30/30 )

Acute fear pollutes his body, concentration increasing exponentially with each shallow inhale he breathes.

Deku, standing just in front of him, knocks at the familiar door to Midoriya Inko’s apartment.

They’re having dinner with her tonight. Introducing Katsuki as Deku’s boyfriend.

[Panic Attacks]

Someone to Stay by Maru_Chan( M | 5,462 | 1/1 )

He hears Izuku’s jeering laughter again and even when he can’t see him any longer, his last words ring loud on Katsuki’s ears, heavy and final like a sentence.

“Goodbye Kacchan, maybe you can try again in your next life”

And then everything is dark again.

It’s dark, he’s cold, he’s numb and he’s alone.

And it’s everything he deserves.

[Panic Attacks | PTSD] 

saltwater fears & saltwater tears by writedeku( T | 4,540 | 1/1 )

It’s not that Katsuki hasn’t hurt people before, but this is the first time he’s seen something so irrevocable. So tangible. Izuku will look back, ten, twenty years from now, and he’d still see the scar in the mirror, and still be a scared little boy in pain all over again, crying in the hallways.

(The middle is a time that makes Katsuki feel proud and ashamed, all at once.)

SeriesPart 3 of the saltwater saga

[Bullying | Past Abuse | Panic Attacks] 

What’s Mine But Only You Can Have? by masteremeraldholder

( T | 9,480 | 1/1 )

“What’s mine… but only you can have?”

Deku’s face softens, his eyes wide, mouth a little ‘o’. Baku’s stomach turns, maybe he shouldn’t have said it, maybe he should’ve listened to the quirk-stealers and kept his fucking mouth shut, but he knows that he couldn’t have even if he tried.

He’ll never get tired of Deku and his annoying antics, his patient nature, his shit ton of freckles, and if that’s what it means to love someone, then he’s gladly in it with Deku.

SeriesPart 2 of Schizophrenic Bakugou

[Panic Attacks | Self-Harm | Ableism]

Words to Never Say by InkspillsNotebook( T | 2,586 | 1/1 )

Regardless of how much time has passed, Izuku is still unable to hear those words without fearing that he’s lost the most important person in his life.

SeriesPart 7 of Drabble Expansion Pack

[Panic Attacks]

[Abandoned] Chapter 4 of Angry Kids by MrJokerBoy( T | 9,251 | 12/? )

Deku has a nervous breakdown and here comes Kacchan to the rescue 

[Panic Attacks] 

Chapter 1 of Things You Said: Bakugou/Midoriya by AutisticWriter( T | 3,100 | 2/2 )

A collection of one shots written for a prompt list. 

[Self-Harm | Ableism | Transphobia]

{Curator’s Note: This chapter depicts Bakugou assisting Midoriya through a meltdown, not an anger episode or panic attack.}

A Classical Storm by oceanswrath( T | 1,400 | 1/1 )

In that moment only the two of them existed, a force to be reckoned with greater than the storm raging outside. 

[Panic Attacks]

The Bonds that bind by EloFromMars( E | 2,818 | 1/1 )

Izuku is excited, tonight is their anniversary. He had planned everything. Or so he thought. 

[PTSD | Panic Attacks]

Only Us by yoichipines( T | 3,105 | 1/1 )

“What if it’s you, and what if it’s me and what if that’s all that we needed to be and the rest of the world falls away…what do you say?”

A Katsudeku fanfic very much inspired by ‘Only Us’ by Laura Dreyfuss and Ben Platt? Sign me tf up!

[Panic Attacks]

No Matter What by Empress Explosion Murder (LdyFcknNoir)( M | 4,393 | 1/1 )

BNHA Angst Week Day Seven: Roses/Time

-or-

“I-I’ve failed you… He escaped.” Katsuki rasped out.

Any remaining strength in Izuku’s body fled, and he melted to the ground on legs that were no longer able to hold him up. His body began to tremble violently, his teeth cracking together with the force of his shaking. Black edged around his vision as he couldn’t pull any oxygen into his lungs, air rent from his lungs completely with just five words.

SeriesPart 7 of BNHA Angst Week

[Past Rape/Non-con | Panic Attacks]

Yeah I’ve Got Issues by Abitginger( T | 2,782 | 1/1 )

One-shot written for BakuDeku month of wonder, day 2:festival/apology. A little late but such is life ~

Izuku and Katsuki go on an undercover mission at a festival.

[Panic Attacks]

to be made of flesh and steel by bluntforcedrama, gutsdumpster( T | 635 | 1/1 )

Bakugou learns his triggers, his tics. He’s kind of psychic actually since he tends to know when something is about to happen. Or maybe it’s Izuku’s fault for making it so glaringly obvious: he gets nervous, hands twitching more than usual as his eyes follow any sudden movement around him. Sometimes his breathing becomes labored and he swallows down more inhales than exhales and Bakugou will have to thread his fingers with Izuku’s, as if to say calm down, I’m here.

Or: Izuku is an ex-soldier struggling with the mental and physical repercussions of such heavy combat, and although Bakugou doesn’t know exactly what it’s like, he’ll still do everything he can to help.

[Panic Attacks | PTSD | Implied/Referenced Homophobia]

I know you wanna (slip under my armor) by Herbalmint( T | 3,528 | 1/1 )

Life just keeps developing new ways of beating Bakugo down. (Katsuki has a panic attack)

[Panic Attacks | Dissociation] 

In Your Arms by EmbretheWorld( T | 3,771 | 2/2 )

Bakugo’s freaking out, and no one really knows what to do, but Yagi and Aizawa are really grateful that Midoriya is there. And Aizawa is really good at comforting people too.

SeriesPart 3 of You Melt My Heart

[Panic Attacks]

Chapter 2 & Chapter 7 of Standing Together (Pride Month) by EmbretheWorld( M | 17,972 | 29/29 )

This book will be filled with multiple ships that I will write and post on a daily for Pride Month. Each chapter will be based on a prompt. Hope you enjoy!

I ended this book early because I couldn’t find any motivation to write in it anymore.

SeriesPart 6 of You Melt My Heart

[Panic Attacks]

Anxiety by MistyBlueJay( T | 3,530 | 1/1 )

Izuku and Katsuki go to the mall, the Bakusquad joins them in a mini shopping trip. It’s a crowded day and Izuku falls behind, panic ensues.

[Panic Attacks]

In Weakness there is Strength by DarcyIncarnate( Not Rated | 3,011 | 1/1 )

Five times Izuku breaks and Katsuki picks up the peices, and one time Katsuki isn’t there to help. 

[Panic Attacks]

[gellavonhamster]

001 B/B/L or 002 Lemony Snicket or both

001 B/B/L

when I started shipping it if I did: hmm, some time after getting into fandom and reading content with this ship and letting it devour my mind? I know that it wasn’t immediately after reading the books and I know that based on my posts here and the asks I answered it might be even possible to track when this happened but that would take too much time

my thoughts: it simultaneously makes canon less and more tragic: less tragic becauce no love triangle/unrequited love and more tragic because that means Lemony lost not one, but two people he loved. But canon is tragic in any case and I love this ship too much so I’m willing to suffer, haha. Also I think the degree to which I’m currently invested in this ship is partially due to how I project a little on 2/3 of it when writing about them and 3/3 of it being the kind of people I could have a crush on

what makes me happy about them: like I said already, it eliminates the love triangle for good + it’s one ship but, like, so many relationship dynamics within it! I’ve already written about my vision of Bertrand/Beatrice in the previous ask - the contrast of their personalities, the initial dislike turned into deep mutual understanding - and then there’s also Lemony/Beatrice that is (in my head) more of a ~High Romance~ but mixed with them being weird in the similar way, and Bertrand/Lemony that I imagine starting out as them both being suspicious of each other but also craving each other’s approval and friendship but also No, I Can’t, I’ve Decided to Dislike Him (well, that’s mostly Lemony). This is getting incoherent, I’m sorry :D Also it is my headcanon that, while the three of them weren’t a thing for a very long time (it was L/B first, then B/B/L for a comparatively short period of time, and then B/B), it was a very happy time for all three of them and they were head over heels for one another  

what makes me sad about them: the fact that two of them canonically die and one is left an unhappy man and an eternal fugitive :)))

things done in fanfic that annoys me: I don’t think I’ve read any fics with this ship that have annoyed me, actually, but in general I find it annoying, in the context of this ot3 or not, when one of Beatrice’s relationships is largely priorotized over the other (especially L/B over B/B). They’re both equally important from the point of view of ASOUE narrative (L/B as the reason ASOUE is written, B/B as the reason the protagonists exist and are put into the situations described in the books) and, I believe, for Beatrice herself. 

things I look for in fanfic: I get that this is, like most sugar bowl generation ships, a sad ship by default, but I want more happy things... pre-canon when everything still is more or less okay, or some AUs. Also smut (I mean what)

who I’d be comfortable them ending up with, if not each other: hmm, if each of them has to end up with someone else... Bertrand with Ernest, Beatrice with R, Lemony with his Editor (under the condition that the Editor is not Moxie)

my happily ever after for them: I’m basically repeating what I’ve already said in replying to the ask about B/B, but still: B and B both survive the fire, start looking for their children and meet L on the way, and together they find V&K&S 

who is the big spoon/little spoon: does that even work for three people? Anyway, the one sleeping in the middle is usually the one who’s had a more difficult day because the other two would want to comfort that person

what is their favorite non-sexual activity: long conversations that drift from literature and/or art and/or theatre to absolutely nonsensical topics still discussed with serious faces, all while lying in bed pillowed on one another

002 Lemony Snicket

How I feel about this character: probably my favourite Snicketverse character and definitely one of my favourite literary narrators (right after Peter Grant from the Rivers of London series). I appreciate his sense of humour and the fact that he still has hope for the best after everything that’s happened to him and wants his readers to have that hope too. Also he’s very much of a little bitch (especially in ATWQ) and we shoudn’t forget that

All the people I ship romantically with this character: Beatrice and Bertrand (preferably together)

My non-romantic OTP for this character: Lemony and R - I have a Lot of Feelings about their friendship

My unpopular opinion about this character: I definitely disagree with all those posts about how he, in contrast to Severus Snape, is an example of how one should treat the children of your ex who married another man, because Lemony didn’t actually help the Baudelaires, but if we’re comparing these two characters, then you know what... at least he didn’t bully children and call it teaching unlike some others

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon: we don’t know for sure but I like to imagine that he and Bea II became a family

my OTP: B/B/L (see the answer above)

my cross over ship: not a ship, obviously, but I still want a fic about him meeting Flannery Culp from The Basic Eight, in any context from a dream to Daniel Handler Extended Literary Universe... do I have to do everything myself

a headcanon fact: the worst driver out of the three Snicket siblings and doesn’t even have a driving licence (while Jacques has a real one and some fake ones and Kit has a number of fake ones)

[yes-justice-seeking]

Is Trump Administration Carrying Out Steve Bannon’s Personal Political Agenda?/班农之于川普：成也萧何败也萧何

According to Mr. Ronald Radosh of Daily Beast, Steve Bannon told him on November 12, 2013 that “I’m a Leninist. Leninist wanted to destroy the state, and that’s my goal too...I want to bring everything crashing down...”

https://www.thedailybeast.com/steve-bannon-trumps-top-guy-told-me-he-was-a-leninist

It is also reported that "Steve Bannon had portrait of himself as Napoleon”.

https://www.usatoday.com/story/news/politics/onpolitics/2017/07/11/steve-bannon-napoleon-painting/466516001/

As per Vox, Cambridge Analytica was created when Steve Bannon approached Robekah and Robert Mercer. Bannon then became the VP of the Company and used it to “leverage data-driven technology to push the hearts and minds of voters toward his populist vision for America”, especially during the 2016 election. 

https://www.vox.com/policy-and-politics/2018/3/23/17151916/facebook-cambridge-analytica-trump-diagram

https://www.cnn.com/2018/03/30/politics/bannon-cambridge-analytica/index.html

On Feb. 13, 2020, President Trump’s personal attorney Rudy Giuliani tweeted “no one understands the reasons for Trump’s victory better than Steve.”

https://twitter.com/RudyGiuliani/status/1228208065310117888

Bannon’s personal political agenda wouldn’t be accomplished if the Presidential candidate was any one other than #Trump and they eventually successed in the presidential election, but this is how Trump looked like when he knew he won:

Steve Bannon officially left White House on Aug 19, 2017:

https://twitter.com/realDonaldTrump/status/898870621584596993

Yet, you would be too naive to believe it. A Twitter account with a Cat-Face posted this: “Trump sent Bannon to kick the shit out of the ChiComs(China’s Communist Party). Bannon has never really left Trump”. Note that he cced to Mischa, the fugitive Billionaire Guo Wengui’s senior henchman.

https://threadreaderapp.com/thread/1157425245000630272.html

What did Bannon do for his mission of “kicking the shit out of the ChiComs”?

He started to contact the fugitive Billionaire Guo Wengui, asylum seeker and whistle-blower of the CCP. Following President Trump’s announcement of Bannon’s new role at BreitbartNews, Breitbart reported on Sept. 7, 2017 that Guo Wengui, aka 郭文贵, became a bargaining chip for the US in the US-China relationship.

https://www.breitbart.com/national-security/2017/09/07/billionaire-guo-wengui-asks-u-s-asylum-accusing-top-chinese-officials-corruption/

https://www.cnbc.com/2017/10/12/guo-wengui-tweets-images-of-meetings-with-steve-bannon.html

We know from the media that Steve Bannon then teamed up with Kyle Bass, Gen. Spalding, Epoch Times and of course, the fugitive billionaire Guo Wengui for his above-mentioned mission/political agenda:

https://www.bloomberg.com/news/articles/2019-04-25/kyle-bass-steve-bannon

Not to mention building close relationship with the billionaire Guo Wengui:

https://www.axios.com/steve-bannon-contract-chinese-billionaire-guo-media-fa6bc244-6d7a-4a53-9f03-1296d4fae5aa.html

The funny thing is that the “Cat-Face” tweeted often to all henchmen of Steve Bannon but not to Bannon himself.

The Cat-Face even suggested Trump and Macro Rubio to play good cop, bad cop, which is exact what we observed: America’s position on #Hong Kong issue.

It is interesting to note that the “good cop and bad cop” strategy has been deployed again on Soleimani’s death.

White House said "we do not seek regime change”

https://www.whitehouse.gov/briefings-statements/remarks-president-trump-killing-qasem-soleimani/

Whereas John Bolton tweeted “hope this is the first step to regime change in Tehran” on the same day.

https://twitter.com/AmbJohnBolton/status/1213044218689720321

few days after, on Jan. 11, Secretary Pompeo’s tweet suggested that John Bolton told the truth.

https://twitter.com/SecPompeo/status/1216064377444618240

He even gave an order to President #Trump:

https://www.politico.com/story/2019/05/22/steve-bannon-huawei-trade-china-1464607

While Steve Bannon was “passionately” giving public speech about how he “respects and loves” Chinese people, the Cat-Face tweeted “China’s 1.4B population will get nothing to eat! ”

While we saw Bannon talked a lot about Hong Kong Protests, the Cat-face gave instruction to Guo Wengui’s henchman and a HongKonger:

If you find all of this co-incident, what say you if I tell you that Steve Bannon’s time line matches also the Cat-Face’s tweets: after Bannon opened the War-Room in order to defend for Trump in the impeachment proceedings, Ukraine and Biden became the key words of his tweets:

Although Cambridge Analytica went bankrupt following the media’s report about the scandal, evidence shows that Steve Bannon is still able to manipulate the social media to make his henchmen success or crash-down those deemed as their enemies: Gen. Spalding’s followers increased from 2,376 to 41,600 within 6 months; whereas one of Guo Wengui’s henchmen lost 20K  subscribers within few days after he was labeled as traitor.

Steve Bannon, will you be able to testify under oath that you’re not the one behind @BenKTallmadge?! Aren’t you the puppeteer of Trump administration to destroy as many places as possible and wage war all over the world?

How Dangerous Steve Bannon’s personal agenda is?

Hong Kongers’ strategy for Hong Kong Protests is called 揽炒: mutual destruction, which fits perfect Bannon’s “crashing down every things” plan. 

https://twitter.com/TruthMatter6/status/1213700508961198080

Hong Kong became now all dirty and insidious mafia work competition battlefield, not only for Hong Kong people, but also for the whole world: horrible dead bodies are found on daily basis.

On Jan. 13, 2020:

https://twitter.com/MaggieCourt01/status/1216725649676632065

If you Google “Steve Bannon” and “ISIS”, you will find many results like this,  such as “Steve Bannon has weaponized using ISIS techniques”:

https://twitter.com/TruthMatter6/status/1211488720387543041

He also worships #Unrestricted Warfare, the CCP’s military work, as his Bible:

https://news.yahoo.com/steve-bannon-cheering-trade-war-hopes-for-government-to-fall-in-china-090000259.html 

Why am I exposing the facts found on the Internet?

1. Guo Wengui openly and repeatedly uttered death threat with impunity:

Exhibit 1:

https://twitter.com/TruthMatter6/status/1213952599399026689

Exhibit 2:

https://twitter.com/TruthMatter6/status/1213938885266477062

2. Evidence shows that not only #Steve Bannon but also #Trump endorsed Guo Wengui:

Exhibit 3:

 https://twitter.com/TruthMatter6/status/1214064520710311936

Exhibit 4:

 https://yes-justice-seeking.tumblr.com/post/190182899899/to-trump-and-twitter-uttering-threats-is

3. No matter how Guo Wengui’s senior henchmen committed cyber bullying and violated #Twitter’s rules, their violations are being covered-up.

4. My twitter account and YouTube channel have been constantly suppressed and financially strangled:

Exhibit 5:

Exhibit 6

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pxuk0ew4MkU

Exhibit 7:

Exhibit 8:

https://yes-justice-seeking.tumblr.com/post/184435011504/inside-moles-turned-youtube-a-bullying-and

https://twitter.com/TruthMatter6/status/1218216358552522753

https://twitter.com/StateDept/status/1217139313009471493

https://twitter.com/TruthMatter6/status/1211725736295518208

[searchingwardrobes]

Twister AU: Ch 6/7

This chapter has very little plot and no tornados, but I have a feeling you’ll all like it anyway *wink wink* It also explains more of Emma and Killian’s back story together after they became orphans. I have had this chapter brainstormed for so long, I was dying to get to it and share it!

Rating: T for peril in most of the story, but in this chapter the T is more for other “stuff” . . .

You can read this from the beginning along with my AUs of The Fugitive and Adventures in Babysitting on Ao3

Tagging @shipsxahoy @shady-swan-jones @tiganasummertree @bethacaciakay @artistic-writer @teamhook @kmomof4 @cat-sophia @hollyethecurious @coliferoncer @thejacketandthehook @dassala @branlovesouat @allofdafandoms-blog @flslp87 @pocket-anon @whimsicallyenchantedrose @snowbellewells @kday426 @snidgetsafan @delirious-latenight-laughs​ @jennjenn615

  The sound of the camper coming to a screeching halt behind them caused Killian to pull away from her. He turned his back on his team and paced several steps away, his head in his hands. Once the others jumped out of the camper, he had composed himself. Yet he gave Emma a wobbly smile and squeezed her hand.

“It didn’t work,” Ruby muttered, going straight for the machine, “it still didn’t work!”

“It was only an F2, boss,” Smee spoke up, removing his red cap and twisting it in his hands, “smaller than the last one. Maybe it just wasn’t strong enough to take her.”

Killian patted Smee reassuringly on the shoulder as he walked past, headed for the truck. Wordlessly, he climbed in, then rested his forehead on the steering wheel. Emma’s heart ached as she watched him.

“What’s up with him?” Ruby asked.

Emma shook her head. “Nothing. Let’s just get this thing back in the truck.”

Smee and Ruby stood there dumbly in the road watching her.

“It doesn’t look like nothing,” said Ruby hesitantly.

“He just needs a minute, alright?” Emma snapped, and the two of them rushed to help her with DOT.

Once they got the machine loaded, Emma said nothing as she climbed into the passenger seat. Killian simply took his right hand off the steering wheel to reach over and grab hers. Emma just stared at their intertwined fingers.

“Uh, boss.”

Smee was standing at the driver’s side window, his hat practically in knots. He never did like it when Killian got moody. He cleared his throat before continuing.

“We’re only 15 minutes away from Laverty, and um . . . Ruby thought Granny would like to see Emma, so . . . “ the man shuffled his feet.

Emma leaned over the console after feeling the slightest pressure from Killian’s fingers. She glanced at him long enough to see the tiniest glimmer in his eyes.

“Sure, Smee,” she told him, “it’s been way too long since I’ve been home.”

As Smee turned, whooping as he ran to the camper with the good news, Killian turned to Emma with a smile on his lips. He brushed a kiss to her knuckles before starting the truck.

“Home. You don’t know how much it means to hear you use that word, Swan.”

*****************************************************

Her room still hadn’t changed. The walls were still painted a pale yellow, the same white daisy wallpaper border at the top. The frilly white curtains with the pattern of tiny buttercups still fluttered at the window. She still remembered when she was eleven and Granny had just finished decorating it. She had asked Emma for her favorite color and flower. “They didn’t have buttercup wallpaper,” she had apologized, “so I hope you like daisies.”

Granny had asked to adopt her. Killian, too. But neither one of them wanted to let go of the families they had lost, not completely, and Granny had understood. But decorating this room just for Emma had been her way of saying that no matter what her birth certificate said, Emma was home.

She had been nervous coming here. When she ran and hid from Killian, it meant hiding from Ruby and Granny too. They hadn’t known about Henry either. But just like Ruby, Granny didn’t get angry. She just hugged Emma tight and insisted she sit down immediately and show her every picture she had of her new grandbaby.

“Don’t you mean great grandbaby?” Killian had teased, earning him a glare over their foster mother’s bifocals. They only called her Granny because Ruby did. Though she was more like a mother to Ruby than a grandmother too, having raised her since Ruby’s mother died of a drug overdose at seventeen.

Emma shimmied out of her blue jeans and slipped into a pair of pajama shorts. Then she pulled her thin sweater over her head and tossed it on the floor too. Then she unhooked her bra, maneuvered it out from under her tank top and added it to the pile in the corner. Killian always lectured her about her messy habits. His room down the hall was always kept so clean it would have passed a military inspection.

She wondered idly as she slipped between the cool sheets if his room looked the same too; navy walls with that anchor wallpaper border. He used to dream of the ocean, hadn’t he? Yet here he still was in the landlocked Midwest. She ached for him to let go, and not just for her and Henry.

Emma rolled onto her back and flung her arm over her forehead. The ceiling fan was still the same too – that faux white wicker. It always made a funny whistling sound as the air passed through the gaps in the wood. She remembered lying in Killian’s arms as the sun came up, the slow movements of the fan casting shadows on the wall. She remembered him trailing kisses down her bare shoulder and laughing about what an impractical ceiling fan it was. Funny the tiny details a person remembers. She rolled over on her side to face the wall. This room hadn’t changed, and that fact made her heart race with so many memories. It was the same bed, too. She had grown up in this bed; in more ways than one.

She wasn’t surprised when she heard the door slowly creak open or when the bed dipped behind her. Then his arms were around her, and she felt herself finally relax into the mattress. He pulled her closer, and she didn’t resist. It was all so easy to fall back into.

“I couldn’t sleep,” Killian mumbled into her hair, nuzzling his nose against her neck.

Emma snorted. “We said goodnight like ten minutes ago. I don’t think you tried.”

His arm shifted to her hip and she rolled over on her back to face him. He smiled down at her, propping his head on his other hand. The one at her hip made lazy circles, fiddling with the fabric that barely skimmed her thigh. It sent shivers through her that she tried to ignore.

“I’ve never slept very well in that room,” he told her. Then his smile turned more salacious. “I’ve always preferred your bed.”

Emma rolled her eyes. “When you think about this bed, you aren’t thinking about sleeping.”

Killian chuckled, his hand drifting up to her waist. His fingers teased with the hem of her shirt. “Hmm, we did make a lot of memories in this bed.”

“Killy!’ she gasped, smacking him in the chest.

“Ow!” he protested, rubbing at the spot where she hit him, “I was thinking about when we were kids, for your information.”

“Right. You mean when we were fourteen and sixteen, and you finally made it to second base right before Granny barged in?”

He groaned a bit melodramatically as he rolled backwards onto the pillow. “Don’t remind me. That was the most humiliating moment of my life!”

Emma, rolled over too, propping her chin up on his bare chest. Maybe not the smartest idea, but everything with Killian was just so natural , it was almost subconcsiou. “Just humiliating?” she teased.

He grinned down at her and winked. “No. Also glorious and life changing, and God you have gorgeous breasts!”

She bit her lower lip, and that probably wasn’t conscious either. Maybe. “At fourteen? I doubt it.”

“Oh, but they were,” he told her in a completely sincere voice.

He rubbed his hand up and down her back, and she was suddenly aware of every point where their bodies touched, especially her breasts pressed against his chest with only the thin fabric of her tank top between their skin. She swallowed and pulled away from him, pulling the blanket up as she rested back against her pillow. But Killian wasn’t letting her get away quite so easily. He rolled on his side so he could look down at her again. He reached down and traced her jaw with his fingertip.

“But,” he told her softly, “being completely serious, I also remember being a scared kid of twelve who hadn’t slept since he lost his father and brother on the same day. And then you came, this beautiful but sad little girl, and we understood one another. I heard you crying that first night, the same way I still did each night. So I snuck in here, and –“

“You said it’s okay to cry; I cry too.” Emma took a deep breath, remembering Killian as a scrawny kid, standing in her doorway with his hair sticking up on his head.

“You reached your hand out,” he continued, “and you asked me to stay with you.”

His fingers were in her hair now, and her resolve was crumbling. He had stayed that night, her first night in this room; had lain there next to her, a little awkwardly, holding her hand until she fell asleep. He came to her room almost every night, unbeknownst to Granny. Some nights he tiptoed back to his own room, but other nights he stayed. His awkwardness eventually melted away. He would read to her by the light of a flashlight, giggle with her under the covers as they planned how to get back at the bullies at school, or sit by the window as he taught her all the constellations. He shared memories about his brother, and she would tell him about her parents.

And one night, when she was thirteen, something shifted. He was suddenly looking at her the way he was right now, his fingers finding their way to her hair. He whispered how beautiful she was, and then his lips were on hers, chaste and slightly awkward. And it was here that he had held her and told her in between kisses that he loved her and always would.

When she was sixteen, he slipped into her room after his high school graduation. She had wanted to give herself to him completely, but he was afraid she was too young. It wasn’t their first fight, but probably their worst one. She was scared, terrified, that he would forget her while away at college. Get too mature for her, and never come home again.

But he had proved her wrong. Love letters weren’t really a thing anymore. For everyone but Killian Jones, that is. Because he wrote her. Not just emails, but actual letters that came in the mail. Poetic, beautiful things in his ridiculously pretty handwriting. Granny of course commented on how overly dramatic it was since he drove home to see her practically every weekend. She was always calling Killian dramatic.

And when he came home for Thanksgiving, as Granny served his welcome home dinner, Emma had leaned over and whispered in his ear what she was planning for him that night in her room. She ran her hand up his thigh to punctuate her point. He almost choked on his iced tea and kicked the table so hard that Granny’s lasagna almost went sliding to the floor. She giggled now at the memory.

“What?” he asked her in the present, his fingers still entangled in her hair.

“I’m just remembering things,” she told him, reaching up to touch his scar. The one he got when the barn door hit him beneath the overpass when he was twelve. He turned his face to kiss her palm, and something broke open and unfurled inside of her chest.

“Emma,” he breathed.

She slid her hand up to dig her fingers through his hair and pull him down to her. Their lips slid over each other in a familiar dance, and Emma sighed into it, her lips parting to let him in. His hands traced the curves of her body, his touch igniting her in a way no one else ever could. Her back arched up off the mattress as his mouth latched onto her neck and his hand slipped up her shirt, cupping her breast.

“Killian,” she gasped.

She meant to say something else; about how she just broke off an engagement to another man, how they couldn’t just pick back up where they left off, how they hadn’t really finished their earlier conversation. Talk. She meant to say they should talk. But instead she peeled off her tank top and added it to the pile on the floor.

[josthecommision]

Super detailed questions about your OC: Jozre and Alinthiel

(I had to get rid of some questions because they were either not applicable to the universe the characters are in or don't really seem important or simply I couldn't answer very well)

1. What’s their full name? Why was that chosen? Does it mean anything? Its embarrassing and personal question haha. Jozre Alcazier is a corruption or Jose Hebrew meaning “God increases” and Alcazar in Moorish means “palace” or “fortress”. Alinthiel is really just a name that sounds good and elfish but also got inspired by the anime MAGI with the main character Aladin.

2. Do they have any titles? How did they get them?

Jozre: “I don't really have a title, not yet I guess”

Alinthiel: “I am currently the Alchemy instructor of the Winterhold university mostly because they lacked one.....oh and one of the Thalmor’s most wanted. Long story.”

3. Did they have a good childhood? What are fond memories they have of it? What’s a bad memory?

Jozre: “I like to think I had a good childhood overall. Growing up in an environment with different intermingled cultures has its perks and I enjoyed every bit of it. Still, I regret having been a terrible kid with my brothers and I had a few bullies in my life but I just shrugged most bulling off for the most part”

Alinthiel: I had a very nice childhood in the imperial city but the haunting truth that we were fugitives speaking against the Aldmeri Dominion always seemed to hover above us. Then the great war reached us in the city and...well you know how war can be with teenagers”

4. What is their relationship with their parents? What’s a good and bad memory with them? Did they know both parents?

Jozre: I love my parents and mostly have good memories of us having good times but they would once in a wile have very heated arguments. Kind of made me feel helpless and scared we wouldn't be a family any more. Guess there is nothing good with out the bad”

Alinthiel: “despite the stress from obvious reasons, I had good memories with my parents like the time my mom would teach magic. The Imperial city was a nice place to live in before the war despite the whole Oblivion crisis thing. Life was sometimes quiet and boring though because we did not leave our house too much in fear of Thalmor spies spotting us.”

5. Do they have any siblings? What’s their names? What is their relationship with them? Has their relationship changed since they were kids to adults?

Jozre: “four actually: Dahvi, Rafa, Oscar. We are in really good terms now but I was a little brat to everyone when I was little. Its kind of a sore and shameful subject for me and try to make up for it all every time I get.

Alinthiel: “No not I don't but sure wished I had a little sister or brother”

6. What were they like at school? Did they enjoy it? Did they finish? What level of higher education did they reach? What subjects did they enjoy? Which did they hate?

Jozre: “I have always had mixed feelings about school. I enjoy what I learned in high school because its useful now but it all could have came with out the bullies. Wile I could shrug out most, there was one time when the line was crossed and they abused my romantic feelings. Once I found out a girl I liked had vanished after being attacked by the bully, I kind of killed him and that ended with me becoming a criminal to the imperials. I loved Alchemy and my teacher was the best man I have known but hated biology because of a terrible teacher I had”

Alinthiel: “ohhh I loved school although I was technically home schooled. Mom said she did not want me in the college of whispers and the synods because “they are selfish and self serving fungus sippers” and the Telvanii have a very rigid and ignorantly black and white belief about magic and themselves. My mom was once studied with the Psijjics so she knew what she was doing and also attended classes in the college of Winterhold. Being mostly secluded to our house, I was always happy about learning. My favorite subject was Mysticism but I hated home education: I cant clean and end up burning everything I cook!”

7. Did they have lots of friends as a child? Did they keep any of their childhood friends into adulthood?

Jozre: “not many, no. The few friends I had were great though but we moved a lot so the friendships don't last long. I do like to think they think of me once in a wile and that one day we will get together again like old times.

Alinthiel: oh yes tons! I made friends in the Imperial city among the children and young adults when I lived there and even befriended a Moth priest. I would get to see them when I could leave our house but would sneak out at times to hang out more. Sure hope they made it ok after the war....”

8. Did they have pets as a child? Do they have pets as an adult? Do they like animals?

Jozre: “I adopted an old and blind dog when I was young. I still remember how sad and damp the poor old dog was when I first found him, it was raining harsh outside and I just could not let him die alone. Poor Leo was the sweetest and kindest old blind pooch you would ever meet and it brings me to tears how one day, he just died of old age. I like to think I made his last days happy ones though I cant shake the feeling I failed him too. I never stop thinking about him.”

Alinthiel: “We had the whole thing of being nice but not taking in animals. we were never animal people but my mom thought me this animal empathy spell she learned from the wood elves and its amazing! not as potent as the wood elfs themselves though.”

9. Do animals like them? Do they get on well with animals?

Jozre: “Not any more then any other I guess”

Alinthiel: “guess magic don't count huh? well, no I guess not particularly. we got an understanding but that's about it”

10. Do they like children? Do children like them? Do they have or want any children? What would they be like as a parent? Or as a godparent/babysitter/ect?

Jozre: “I don't have any cubs of my own. I think I would leave the idea of having children to my love because personally, I am fine with or without. I would like to believe that I would be the father to help my cubs along with life and guide them so that they don't make the same mistakes I did. Be loving but fair and bestow as many good values as I can with out spoiling them”

Alinthiel: “err, id have to find the “right guy” or girl, I don't judge” but I can be picky and I am always busy with my work.”

11. Do they have any special diet requirements? Are they a vegetarian? Vegan? Have any allergies?

Jozre: “whole milk will out right kill me....or at least it would feel like my insides are being turned open. I need to drink a special lactose free milk or rely on cheese for my calcium.”

Alinthiel: “I cant eat sugary or caffeinated foods as far as I know, you REALY don't want to see me on a high. That is why I confine my self to my study when ever I am in one”

12. What is their favourite food?

Jozre: “oh man do I love food that is spicy and sweet food! I love Rimmani chocolate masala. I am a lover of good food so my preferences are too long to count. I will say that I love fruit and nuts as well”

Alinthiel: “I don't really have a preference but do enjoy eating strange and exotic or alien foods. Those argonian spiced snake was amazing and the way they used the poison was a nice zing! don't eat when mouth sores tough....because you know.....the whole dyeing thing”

13. What is their least favourite food?

Jozre: “anything that is too greasy and bitter food. I hate bitter food and drink and that Dunmer/ dark elf shit is nasty, how do they swallow that slop they call drink?”

Alinthiel: “I don't really have a dislike for something but I do not like putting time into food like those boiled crabs you have to open and scrape out the meat. I am always busy and doing something so I need something that I can grab and eat with out any hassle. now if you serve it already out of the shell, I will not complain”

14. Are they good at cooking? Do they enjoy it? What do others think of their cooking?

Jozre: “I love cooking because I know I can make something I like. I am no gourmet chef and your bound to be disappointed if you want some pretty piece of art but I like to think I make delicious food. I never go hungry”

Alinthiel: “burn food, remember?”

15. Do they collect anything? What do they do with it? Where do they keep it?

Jozre: “I like to collect spices and alchemical herbs when ever I can get my hands on them. I also like to collect swords and armor I find, can clean and carry with me for later use. no, I am not a hoarder”

Alinthiel: “books of ancient lore and magic~ I love books!”

16. What’s their favourite genre of: books, music, tv shows, films, video games and anything else?

Jozre: “love, adventure and...well, Instruction texts of Daibella.”

Alinthiel: “magical lore and elder scrolls if I ever get my hands on one...they do count right?”

17. What’s their least favourite genres?

Jozre and Alinthiel: “Dunmer propaganda, specially Dres and Telvanii.”

18. Do they like musicals? Music in general? What do they do when they’re favourite song comes?

Jozre: “never been to a musical before but I like music with flair and passion. When ever I hear the guitar, drums and or trumpets, I swing my tail and ignore I dance like a dork!”

Alinthiel: “the classical with the harms and the hymns~ oh how beautiful they can be~.......you should try them! I also like weird and atmospheric are surprisingly good”

19. Do they have a temper? Are they patient? What are they like when they do lose their temper?

Jozre: “I once had a really bad and quick temper when I was younger and would get very violent when pushed too far. Ever since I met Mi’Jirra and she became part of my life, it takes so much more to get me angry and knowing she is there for me and I for her gives me the confidence and strength to be a stronger person. I will, how ever, not tolerate any harm coming to Mi’Jirra and her family”

Alinthiel: “racism and ignorance just make me boil! that is why I have no patience for the Thalmor, stormcloaks and most dark elves. other than that, I am probably too mellow and sleepy to care. Just don't mess with my research”

20. Do they have a good memory? Short term or long term? Are they good with names? Or faces?

Jozre: “I usually have a good memory and can remember things most don't, specialy if its of interest to me but I am terrible with names most of the time. I am good with faces though and can recognize some one visually better then by name”

Alinthiel: “hah, my mind is like a steel trap and can remember every but of text and lore and memory I have ever gotten my neurons on. Probably explains the headaches and mild insomnia”

21. What is their sleeping pattern like? Do they snore? What do they like to sleep on? A soft or hard mattress?

Jozre: “I sleep the whole 7-8 hours one needs and am usually very adaptable to my needs. I snore very lightly but may snore loud if I am not flat on my bed. I usually can sleep wherever and am not picky but I do prefer a slightly soft bed that conforms to me as best as possible. I am  ashamed to say that once in a wile, I sleep walk and may act out what I am dreaming or just walk around and mumble nonsense”

Alinthiel: “I actually love sleeping just as much as I like studding so I get a snooze when ever I allow myself. I have been told that I snore but I am sure that is not true” it totally is true.

22. What do they find funny? Do they have a good sense of humour? Are they funny themselves?

Jozre: “I find witty and ironic things funny as well as life stories retold as a joke. I like to think I have a good and broad sense of humor. I on the other hand am a bit of a hit and miss when it comes to telling comedy though people have told me that I am funnier when I am not actively trying to be funny but do or say something amusing”

Alinthiel: “most people don't find it funny but I find most pun comedy to be hilarious like the one about telling jokes...periodically!” *begins to snort and wheeze*

23. How do they act when they’re happy? Do they sing? Dance? Hum? Or do they hide their emotions?

Jozre: “I usually don't notice but people tell me I always have this warm smile to me and wag my tail when I am in a good mood. I also tend to whistle tunes and act a little giddy once in a wile. I also tend to sing songs I like even though I cant sing even to save my life”

Alinthiel: “When I am happy, I like to dance and waltz around as well as act like a total nerd about the topic of magic at the current situation”

24. What makes them sad? Do they cry regularly? Do they cry openly or hide it? What are they like they are sad?

Jozre: “betrayal and disloyalty really hurt me the most as well as failing those I love more than anything else in the world. I get this sense of worthlessness that really bums me out and makes me ask ‘why’. I have never cried openly, too proud for that. Unfortunately, sadness would soon lead to rage and a desperate need to enact justice. Fortunately, I have become much less susceptible to this once I met Mi’Jirra and my other friends because of the strength they give me. Now I just let things flow down the river”

Alinthiel: “remembering what the Thalmor did to me and my people’s reputation really gets me down though everything unfair in this world bothers me. How unfair and unjust the pro Thalmor altmer, the dark elves, some of the nords and their gods treat others really gets my blood boiling. That is why I am so determined to finish my research into finally shattering all barriers between races and world to eliminate beliefs of superiority and make everyone happy. The thought that I may never achieve this also bothers me greatly but I cant stop now”

25. What is their biggest fear? What in general scares them? How do they act when they’re scared?

Jozre: “Molag Bal and his penchant to corrupt and flay the souls of others absolutely horrifies me to the core. I also find spiders and zombies to be scary but the thing that scares me the most? Loosing Mi’Jirra and not being able to be with her forever in this world and the next. I know its probably selfish and pathetic but I cant go on as I am now with out her and that is why I dedicate my self to protecting her and supporting her in any way” Jozre acts serious but with a visible hint of desperation and fight or flight instinct ready to explode.

Alinthiel: “I am afraid of being trapped in this world after death, to linger on aimlessly bound to the earth bones as a spirit or being reincarnated into this world again wile nords go to sovenguard and so on. Its not fair. I want everyone to have the freedom of bliss after death.”

26. What do they do when they find out someone else’s fear? Do they tease them? Or get very over protective?

Jozre: “Depends. I become over protective of my loved ones and promise to guard their secrets with out telling a soul. With my enemies is another story entirely because one’s fear is a powerful weapon. I know its dark to use your enemies fears against them but I like to have the ability to control confrontations and with them before they heat up.

Alinthiel: “I believe in a fair fight so I don't use fears of others unless I really have to”

27. Do they exercise? Regularly? Or only when forced? What do they act like pre-work out and post-work out?

Jozre: “I practice my sword and shield once in a wile and do a lot of lifting work at the docs when ever they need muscle. Most of the time however, I....practice yoga and my Daibellan arts in private if you get my meaning” Jozre those a kind of belly dancing were he exercises the hip, core, thigh and pelvic muscles as well as building control of his motion among other work outs.

Alinthiel: “I mostly dance actually. I also do Yoga”

28. Do they drink? What are they like drunk? What are they like hungover? How do they act when other people are drunk or hungover? Kind or teasing?

Jozre: “I used to drink a lot for a year but stopped outright after I met Mi’Jirra and her family so I could seem like a better person. It was also bad for my health so there is that though I do drink during special occasions but just enough to be social. When I did drink my fill, I was a giggle box and would laugh at almost any joke, I also had a bit of a tipsy gate but only fell down once. There was that one time...I kind of ran down the road naked and scared everyone saying I was a were bunny. I don't judge anyone for drinking as long as they keep it civil and friendly. I do tease my friends when their smashed though but make sure I am there to help”

Alinthiel: “oh man do I ever! I love drinking and know how to drink most under the table hahaha! I use magic to keep my self composed enough to not get into too much trouble but when I am drunk, I am a singer and kind of tend to ramble on about philosophical nonsense”

29. What do they dress like? What sorta shops do they buy clothes from? Do they wear the fashion that they like? What do they wear to sleep? Do they wear makeup? What’s their hair like?

Jozre: “I like to dress comfortable and practical with simple v neck tunics and loose shorts that end at bellow the knees. I like to sleep on my loincloth actually which I only say, makes me feel free but grips well on the hips. Its when I expect any danger when I wear my armor at all times, even if its just a gambeson. I like to comb my hair back after cleaning it carefully though it always looks wolfish because of how silky it is”

Alinthiel: “I like to dress to look as intelligent as I am and for that, I prefer robes and tunics with cultural designs. I been rocking the winterhold instructor style and I love it actually though the nord wool is too itchy to wear on skin so I wear an altmeri silk dress beneath. I like to always be prepared so I like to carry my tools with me like potions, flasks, my note tome and enchanted jewelry of my own design with practical and empowering functions. I like to sleep on the softest and silkiest shirts and dresses for a good sleep so I made sure to bring my own. Nords are not known for their soft textiles. I love my hair mostly because it keeps me work in the wintery north and its a nice pillow so I make sure to comb it straight and side ways on my crown for some glamor. even a bookworms got to look good right?”

30. What underwear do they wear? Boxers or briefs? Lacey? Comfy granny panties?

Jozre: I like to wear slightly loose fitting loincloths that make me feel free and are easy to remove. I hate it when cloth articles squeeze and grip my unmentionables”

Alinthiel: I like to wear a set of tights under another, I like them conforming to me, you know?

31. What is their body type? How tall are they? Do they like their body?

Jozre: “I am of a bulky broad shoulder and muscular complexion with a wide torso and hips and I am 6′7 give or take because of my natural Cathey-Rhat stature. I think I like my body, I feel happy with my self and know that so do my loved ones”

Alinthiel: “I am a little short for a high elf at around 6 feet tall and am a bit on the thin side with long limbs though I have no muscle at all. I don't really mind my body, never rally gave it a though to be honest. Not proud or ashamed, I just am.”

32. What’s their guilty pleasure? What is their totally unguilty pleasure?

Jozre: “My most guilty pleasure has to be sex. I am sorry but when I am with my one and only in bed after hours of passion and love, I rarely am happier of my life then at that moment. What's worse is that I am so invested in making my love as happy and as pleased as she would ever be that I practice how to move and read how to best pleasure a woman to the point of it being what I am best at. I am better in bed than in the battle field for crying out loud!”

“my unguilty pleasure? good food by far and it shows when ever at the table. When I eat something that is perfectly cooked and spiced like my favorite food, I take my time savoring every bite and tend to be the last to finish haha”

Alinthiel: “my guilty pleasure has to be sleeping, I cant help it! besides almost always being tired to a degree, I just find sleep in a nice warm bed to be too calming to resist”

“my unguilty pleasure has to be a nice pint or 5 of hard cider ale! oh man do I love getting drunk and tasting that sweet nectar go down so smoothly, its art to make good cider ale or Vodka. I think I know a furry friend of mine that also likes cider ale.”

33. What are they good at? What hobbies do they like? Can they sing?

Jozre: “besides, well, my skill in bed, I am actually really good at fighting and specially at tank support roles. I have built the dexterity and endurance to be able to take a lot of punishment and dish it back just as hard. wile I am good at fighting, I am even better at protecting others with pin point block and saves wile providing support. My favorite Hobby would have to be traveling and enjoying diverse cultures around the world. I love to learn of the other cultures and to taste their foods and drinks is one of the most fulfilling things in my life.

Alinthiel: “I am very good at magic and love to practice it when ever I am not asleep, busy on my responsibilities or drinking a nord under the table. Thanks to being a high elf, I had ample time to hone my self so I can actually sing very well or well enough”

34. Do they like to read? Are they a fast or slow reader? Do they like poetry? Fictional or non fiction?

Jozre: “I like to read yea, not my favorite past time but don't hate it. I am a middle ground reader you know? not too fast but not slow. I like poetry and nice literature, there are a good few classics out there to learn from”

Alinthiel: “Do I like to read? hahaha you forgot I am a mage? come on man, course I do like to read, yea! I am a fast reader, I have to be so that I can learn all I can about the topic I study. Poetry and fiction are hind of meh for me but what I hate is that pompous self indulgent of the dark elves. You think the Thalmor are the only bad birds around? Go visit the Telvanii and Dres and you will learn how much of a bunch of munchkins they are”

35. What do they admire in others? What talents do they wish they had?

Jozre: “I have always admired my family but most of all, I admire Mi’Jirra for her amazing skill in magic and willingness to live life at its fullest and protect herself from anyone. I guess I admire peoples determination and ability to live and love” “another thing that I admire Mi’Jirra is her amazing skill in magic which is recognized even by savants like Alinthiel as a person of immense potential. I on the other hand can barely use enough magic to cast the simplest spells naturally. Not being gifted is after a set back of being a Cathey-Rhat: we bigger cats just don't have the natural ability others have”

Alinthiel: “I admire heroism, honesty and fairness. Some one that will not do things selfishly or trick others for self serving motives. Sadly, I have never read of any hero in all of tamrielic history as pure of heart and soul as I would prefer.”

36. Do they like energy drinks? Coffee? Sugary food? Or can they naturally stay awake and alert?

Jozre: “Not really, I don't like coffee. Now sweets like Moon sugar, pies and breads is another story!”

Alinthiel: “why would anyone like an energy potion? Their too bitter for normal consumption and it may give you a heart attack if too much is drunk. I prefer to suck on a coffee bean instead of drinking it”

37. What’s their sexuality? What do they find attractive? Physically and mentally? What do they like/need in a relationship?

Jozre: “I am straight. I kind of have a thing for shorter girls, I don't know why. Though I really cant find anyone but my current girlfriend as truly attractive. Mentally, I prefer a girl that is loyal and willing to deeply love me just as I would love her. I don't really care about personal quirks really because I am generally a very flexible guy and am willing to conform to a girl I love with in reason.”

Alinthiel: “I haven really given any thought on it. I mean I have never been with anyone. I guess my “knight in shining armor” would be someone that would appreciate me and the work I do to better the lives of others and protect the weak and downtrodden from oppressors. Probably some one that would support my cause. As for what sex I prefer, I guess I am what they call bisexual but never interested me to think of it. I guess who ever comes first and wins me over”

38. What are their goals? What would they sacrifice anything for? What is their secret ambition?

Jozre: “I have always wanted to be a hero bus more importantly, a hero to a beautiful maiden like in the stories. I guess you could say that my dreams have evolved ever sines I met Mi’Jirra in the streets of Whiterun. My life’s goals now are really to live my life to the fullest alongside Mi’Jirra and to protect her from all harm as best as I can. When it comes down to it, all I want is to live and love and would sacrifice anything to be with Mi’Jirra and see her happy as long as she was ok with it”

Alinthiel: “My life’s ambition is to defeat the Thalmor and end the savage cycle of violence and hate that plagues our land. I don't know how and I don't know if I would ever be able to fully achieve this even if I find the right emperor’s candidate to sit in the ruby throne and rule with fairness and wisdom. My greatest ambition, how ever, is to defy and defeat the gods and their arbitrary ways of afterlife. Even if I have to fight and some how bring Talos or even Lorkan low to heel so that the wishing souls not of nord background can enter Sovenguard, than so be it. If there is a way I can find the power to match a god and force them to no longer forbid the worthy from such paradises because of some absurd racial dogma with out seeking the help of the dark Daedra or other unimaginable evils, then so be it. The Elder Scrolls may be my only hope.”

39. Are they religious? What do they think of religion? What do they think of religious people? What do they think of non religious people?

Jozre: “I guess I am religious. My family has always praised the gods Mara, Kinarthy and the lunar twins as I do thought with the addition of Daibella. Having said that, religion can get very nasty when headed by the wrong people. For some examples you only need to look at the following: Stormcloaks, The Stendarr inquisition, just about every dark elf religion to name a few.”

Alinthiel: “I know religion and gods exist but for now, I owe my allegiance to no credo and god. I will only follow a god that will aid me in my quest”

40. What is their favourite season? Type of weather? Are they good in the cold or the heat? What weather do they complain in the most?

Jozre: “I don't really have a favored season but winters in Skyrim are murder! I hate how cold it is and it makes travel in the northern parts and on mountain paths down right dangerously impossible to pass. I mean seriously, it can get so cold in the mountains that you need hours of prep just to give yourself a chance of not freezing to death or catching frost bite. The weather I enjoy the most is sunny days in Skyrim and summer/late spring cloudy days. Having said all that, I am as adaptable as one can get but prefer to not brave a harsh weather I don't have to brave.”

Alinthiel: “I don't really mind any weather so long as it is not an obstacle to my visits to ruins and excavation sites. Even then, I have lived in Winterhold for so long that I have learned how to stay worm enough to get from A to B as efficiently as possible”

41. How do other people see them? Is it similar to how they see themselves?

Jozre: “how people see me? The only ones I care how they view me are Mi’Jirra and my loved ones. Truthfully, I get all kinds of reactions from others: accept, hero, mercenary, pest, thief, plebe just to name a few. The why I only care about viewing my self as is the protector and provider of my loved ones.”

Alinthiel: “To my students, I am the teacher, the potions master, the creepy skinny scare crow, and the introvert. My enemies call me the rebel, the mud slinger, the heretic, the thalmor murderer among a few. Personally, I like to think of my self as the innovator, the scholar, and the seeker of a greater ruler hoping to give the good of heart a better future”

42. Do they make a good first impression? Does their first impression reflect them accurately? How do they introduce themselves?

Jozre: “I like to think I make a good first impression which actually depends on the occasion. If I am looking for work then I will show how willing and capable I am with professionalism. When its a less formal meeting, I just go with how I am: a friendly and welcoming person to friendly and reasonable people. I prefer to be as honest as I can if I don't have to lie and my first impression also has to do with the occasion ranging between professional and willing to work and laid back and welcoming”

Alinthiel: “I am just my self when ever really. That those not mean I am not polite and respectful, only that I may not look awake half the time”

43. How do they act in a formal occasion? What do they think of black tie wear? Do they enjoy fancy parties and love to chit chat or loathe the whole event?

Jozre: “I can be proper and respectful when I have to, I just don't do it often. my family is of tradesman nobility so I have been in a couple formal occasions were we vassal for a lord or lady. I am respectful and as poise as I can be and learned to be political when I have to, not that I like all the fru fru nonsense. I chit chat and attend when I have to and like to just pull the formal wear off were ever and drink a cold one” 

Alinthiel: “oh I love formal occasions and parties of high class and poise and culture. Not been to many but I like the slight moment were I get to feel like a high elf in peace time. Occasionally, such events are great ways of spying and gathering new allies so there is the plus to it all”

44. Do they enjoy any parties? If so what kind? Do they organise the party or just turn up? How do they act? What if they didn’t want to go but were dragged along by a friend?

Jozre: “Who wouldn't like a party? hanging out with family and friends with good food and great company? sign me up! as long as the party is fun for me and my people, I don't really care what kind of party it is though I may need a few ales to get into the spirit. Even if I don't want to go, I always manage to convince my self that its worth it because your friends there so I roll with the punches”

Alinthiel: “I don't generally like big parties but if there is booze there then I guess I am game though wandering hands should expect third degree burns. I like to organize parties when ever some one asks for one but are not of people’s likening half the time because they may be too formal or gimmicky for others. When invited or forced to a party I don't want to be in, I generally and eventually see my self out. I don't see why some one would stay in a party they don't like if there is nothing practical to gain from it”

45. What is their most valued object? Are they sentimental? Is there something they have to take everywhere with them?

Jozre: “when I get engaged or married, its absolutely my ring, its almost a lucky charm and reminder of great things I have obtained”

Alinthiel: “my most valued possession would have to be my mother’s Tome of notes. Wile it is the only thing I have left to remember my family by, It is also a crucial component in my research and ultimate goals.”

46. If they could only take one bag of stuff somewhere with them: what would they pack? What do they consider their essentials?

Jozre and Alinthiel are not silly enough to exclude the essentials: sleeping bag, out door tent, out door cooking set, flint, rope, water, dried meat and long lasting breads, nuts and honey. Several potions  and poisons for different uses from deterring unwanted animals to keeping themselves warm. The basic needs in traveling the wilderness of Nirn.

[newagenotebook]

HERE’S THE PROBLEM WITH IGNORING NAZIS RIGHT NOW

Right now, it’s a small movement. 

It’s a small movement that hurting millions of people. It’s not non-violent, it seeks the suppression of minorities, poc, women, LGBT, non-binary people, etc. When we ignore these people and push them under the radar, the gravity of their movement is allowed to grow.

I’m not going to be one of those white people who are like “but our country is founded on free speeeeech!” Yeah? And? You don’t think people get punched every day for being voicing their opinions (well intended or not?) Don’t you baby boomers remember teaching your sons to punch back at the bullies at school to show them who’s boss?? Wouldn’t you want your kid to punch one of the people who’s calling for the eradication of the black race in the face? Wouldn’t you? 

Because here’s the thing, buddy. 

A lot of a Nazis in the 30s and 40s didn’t become nazis because they wanted to. There came a point where more and more individuals were being sent off to camps and eventually they became loyal to the powers because they couldn’t rise up and had to fight for their own survival, or, lied and risked their own lives trying to do the right thing by harboring fugitives.

For those defending that we have to remain complacent and respect this man’s rights to “win” is malarkey. He’s not going to stand up for your rights. Until Trump makes a statement against the alt-right and their beliefs, Richard Spencer has won. And I personally, don’t intend on letting him get any further.

So to the person who punched Richard Spencer-- good fucking job. 

We didn’t kill him, some might think we should have. But here’s the bottom line: 

He chose this, his follower CHOSE THIS. At this point we really don’t have to be carful about punching a “good nazi” if that’s even possible, because at this point they aren’t converting desperate good people.

And, if they are, I hope one of them reading this realizes the issues they’re projecting into this movement and go seek some serious help.

Also here’s a clip of him whining about twitter deactivating Nazi accounts for harassment and saying there are “digital firing squads” against him.

https://www.washingtonpost.com/news/morning-mix/wp/2016/11/16/a-great-purge-twitter-suspends-richard-spencer-other-prominent-alt-right-accounts/

[keine-idea]

#1 intro

I had my first manic phase when I was studying physics. I suddenly felt no need for sleep, found myself speaking very fast (my friends noticed it) and then, I covered my whole whiteboard-closet with formulas and equations. 

I felt on top of the world when it happened, and I also experienced my first psychosis. I couldn’t recognize myself in the mirror. I looked and thought “who the fuck is she??” I was seriously confused. I don’t know if it was the Gorilla Glue strain that I had or anything. I’m not sure, but what I know for sure was that it took me days to recognize myself again.  

My parents are in denial about my mental health issues. My dad, a boomer, repeatedly told me to stop taking my medications. My mom, whom I probably got the illness from, told me to start exercising and quit my medications too. She is not a boomer, but a part of Gen X. My dad pays for all my bills, my university fees and other stuff too. But he refuses to pay for my psychologist and psychiatrist visits. 

My father is a wealthy self-made man. He made his money from working in a prominent chemical company then becoming a director at Germany’s biggest oil company. He met my mom in 1995. He already had a family back then, with 4 kids and a beautiful German wife. He decided to cheat on her, dating my mom and eventually planned to have me. 

I was born in 1997. My mom, at the time, was around 30 or 31. My dad was 48. I was the firstborn out of all my cousins from my mom’s side. To this day, I am still not acquainted with any of my siblings or cousins from my dad’s side. I know their names, and what they do, etc. I have always wondered what life would be like if I knew them. 

I grew up neglected by my mother. She was obviously bipolar and had spending problems. I remember when I was in primary school, she would pick me up from school (a very rare occasion) and she would go to Citibank and withdraw large amounts of money. 

I was placed under the care of ‘maids’ most of the time. They were my primary caregivers, along with my grandfather from my mother’s side. I didn’t speak English when I was young so I couldn’t communicate with my father. Heck, I picked up Javanese because I was around my maids and drivers so much.

When I was 4, I saw my mom getting stabbed by her cousin in front of my very own eyes. My mom’s cousin had lost her husband to an accident and was super depressed. She decided that she wanted to kill herself and asked my mom to do the same thing together. I still remember that moment to this very day. I was drawing with my Crayola crayons in the living room, and I heard a big scream come out of my mom’s room. When I walked in to see what had happened, my mom was on the floor with blood sputtering out of her arm and she yelled: “CALL YOUR GRANDPA!”. Yes, because of this, I developed a phobia of blood. It’s real and very excruciatingly real to me. Weeks later after the event, my mom’s cousin impaled herself by jumping off the balcony to those sharp old-style gates. I remember feeling really bad for her kids as they were now orphans. This is one of those memories that give me an inkling that bipolar runs in my family. 

When I was 11, my mother left with my sister to live in Bali. She did this to bail her aunt (my great aunt) as she was a fugitive. I’m not sure what had happened, but what I know for sure is that it’s to do with their gambling problems. My mom had always gambled, and so did my great aunt. Something happened, and they had to leave. I was living with my grandpa, alone. My mom never sent us any money to live with. I remember eating rice and soy sauce from the Warung next door because we couldn’t afford anything. As with anyone who grew up in Jakarta knows that every weekend is ‘mall-time’ (spending time in the malls). I didn’t have any money or means to do such a ritual, so my grandpa decided to drop me off at my cousin’s house in a small village every weekend. 

I was the only white person in that village and was often a victim of bullying. Heck, I was the only white person in my whole school and I was bullied hella crazy because of it. Here’s the thing though, I didn’t realize that I was being bullied all the time. I was just (and still am) the kind of person that is oblivious to social situations. One of the people who bullied me very badly ended up becoming the first runner up for Miss Indonesia in 2013. Ironic, right?

Anyways, I begged my mom to take me to Bali with her as I couldn’t see any future staying in Jakarta. I begged both my parents so that I could be put in an international school where I could get proper education and English lessons so that I could speak with my dad and tell him how fucked my life is. 

The year was 2010, and I moved to Bali. I went to an okay international school and started learning to speak English with what little knowledge I had. Slowly but surely, I started to become fluent in it and I started communicating with my dad. I became very close to my dad, as I got to know his personality and he got to know mine. My relationship with my mom started becoming very sour at this point because I started to rebel and question her authority most of the time. 

- TO BE CONTINUED - 

[topmixtrends]

2017 WAS PERHAPS an unfortunate year to publish a book about the cultural history of niceness in the United States. Certainly I had a tough time reading it. Call it a consequence of the changing weather patterns of our political climate. Every day I was seeing ordinary Americans — many more than I would have thought, or hoped, existed — acting the opposite of nice: bullies who seemed all too content to attack the vulnerable, to take aim at the defenseless, to kick suffering people when they are down.

As I made my way through Carrie Tirado Bramen’s brilliant American Niceness: A Cultural History, however, I became even more vexed by the less obvious figures propping up the more publicized perpetrators of injustice: the “nice” people who disdain overt cruelty, yet enjoy unacknowledged privilege premised on it. Those who frown, for instance, on the nastiness of politics these days and yearn for a return to more civil discourse. In the last election, many of these nice people just couldn’t stomach a nasty woman of a candidate, and pulled the lever for the other guy. How bad could it be? Let’s see what kind of job he can do. Sure, there’s the intemperate tweeting and the hateful rhetoric, but aren’t we all generally nice enough to work it out, especially if we can get the right kind of judges on the bench? The right kind of immigration and tax policies? The right brand of leadership that will get out of the way so that people can win or lose based on their own efforts?

If meanness is one reason it seems almost impossible to talk to each other across our current political divide, niceness is another. For the vulnerable and the threatened, being nice is not an option, for their lives are on the line. Yet too many Americans retreat behind the no-contest zone of niceness, and prefer not to even try. And this is why Bramen’s book is so important right now: American Niceness does a remarkable job of demonstrating not only the history of deeply entrenched norms of niceness but also the reasons they have lurked beneath our critical radar for so long. Bramen shows impressive range in her analysis, tracking the development of American niceness back to the earliest myths of settler colonialism on the New England shore and forward through the pre–Civil War decades all the way to foreign policy at the turn of the century. It’s an outstanding scholarly book: well researched, well written, and methodologically innovative. I also found it to be incredibly frustrating, because it so aptly demonstrates the embeddedness and pervasiveness of a quality that is both the greatest generator and the greatest inhibitor of positive change. Turns out, American niceness is a real motherfucker.

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The “nice American,” Bramen acknowledges, has typically been overshadowed by his more sensational, more attention-hogging counterpart: the Ugly American. The term was popularized in 1958 by Eugene Burdick and William Lederer’s novel of the same name, but the archetype is at least as old as Frances Trollope’s Domestic Manners of the Americans (1832), which caustically upbraided American culture for the ubiquity of boorish behavior and tobacco-spitting. “Is the nice American the afterthought, the exception to the rule, the well-behaved and quiet anomaly to the outgoing and aggressive norm?” Bramen asks. “Or does it comprise a competing model of Americanness, one that has remained suppressed in the annals of history, confined to a postscript?”

In American Niceness, Bramen argues that, while the more obnoxious chest-thumping Americans have garnered headlines as well as critique, “more banal attributes such as friendliness[,] […] the rhetoric of sociality and the importance of likability” have been the quiet complements to an enduring and chameleonic American exceptionalism. Niceness has always been crucial to American culture. At times, it has provided cover for our worst crimes and inequalities; at others, a means of ameliorating or reforming them.

Bramen begins by noting how American niceness differs from European civility, which requires “a mastery of social form that involves disciplining one’s impulses and passions for the sake of manners and decorum.” Conversely, the nice American was “rough around the edges,” innocently rude, compassionate if unable to adhere to social protocol. This emphasis on niceness as innocence has always helped to paper over the obvious disconnects between American actions — typically violent and exploitative — and explain them away under the cover of amiability and naïveté. Amid myriad manifestations of American niceness, the most common one, dating all the way back to the post-Revolutionary moment and Thomas Jefferson’s shock at finding a “spirit of hostility” against the Republic when visiting Great Britain in 1786, can be boiled down to the oft-used 21st-century phrase, “Why do they hate us?” And here we encounter the damning affliction that plagues our status quo, what Bramen calls “the persistent enabling of Americans’ desire to see themselves as the victims, more sinned against than sinning.”

Bramen sets the table by delving into the histories of some of the earliest avatars of American niceness as well as their victims: Native Americans and enslaved Africans. Given the prominence of the Plymouth story in American mythology, Native American hospitality represents something of a primal scene: Samoset warmly greets the beleaguered Pilgrims, Tisquantum teaches them to grow corn, Massasoit promises protections, all culminating in the amicable multicultural gathering of the first Thanksgiving. In this “literal rather than pejorative” display of “Indian giving,” the most famous colonial roots of the US nation were planted.

By the 19th century, the Plymouth narrative was being put to several different uses. For Native American speakers and artists, the story of the first Thanksgiving was one of hospitality betrayed; for self-conscious Anglo-American writers, it served to shame advocates of and contributors to the violence of Manifest Destiny. But “[a]longside these dissident invocations of Indian hospitality,” Bramen writes, “there emerged a hegemonic variation that inscribes Indian hospitality into the story of national origins, where subaltern niceness structures white U.S. character […] [and fuels] the founding narrative of national exceptionalism.” In other words, white Americans absorbed Indian hospitality into their cultural identity while conveniently forgetting the history of genocide. In spite of more than a century’s worth of searing critiques from the likes of William Apess, Washington Irving, Black Elk, and Zitkala-Sa, full-scale appropriations seemingly win the day in the iconic painting of The First Thanksgiving at Plymouth, 1621 (1912–’15), which famously inverts native hospitality and uses a white woman to mediate the predominantly male colonial encounter. (Lest we think that these old racist treatments have passed away, their persistence can be seen in the form of a 2014 one-dollar coin commemorating the Lewis and Clark expedition with an image of Native American offerings of pipe and provisions, as if to render “manifest destiny as a cooperative effort, a joint venture, rather than a process of sustained and systematic violence.”)

The history of niceness only gets uglier when Bramen turns to 19th-century representations of enslaved African Americans. Unlike the historical shaming and forgetting associated with Indian hospitality, the “recognition of black amiability is less historical and more phenomenological; it is less about generational guilt and more about the hermeneutics of reading black bodies. It is more intimate, more physical, and more personal.” Nowhere does this become more apparent than in figurations of the black smile, most famously embodied in the frequently recycled character of Sambo in the widely popular minstrel shows and proslavery novels.

Like representations of Indian hospitality, these symbols of black niceness cut many ways. For antislavery writers, the smile signified complex human beings who possessed the full range of emotions and therefore merited human rights. Meanwhile, proslavery writers paired signs of black amiability with white paternalism to make the case for a benign institution. Minstrel shows advanced grinning caricatures. Fugitive slave advertisements described as many smiles as they did scars. By the turn of the century, however, such complexity had been reduced once again through the visual and, in this case, the commercial. Bramen convincingly argues that, by the late 19th century, the black smile had largely become incorporated into the national ethos, most notably in the grinning faces of Aunt Jemima and Uncle Ben. Such mass-market icons of African-American amiability emblematized the successful reunification of post–Civil War America, thanks to the amnesiac qualities facilitated by the black smile.

American niceness manifested itself in religion, too. Acknowledging the well-worn analysis of the shift from an 18th-century wrath-filled Calvinistic authority figure to the friendlier, fuzzier 19th-century Jesus of liberal Christianity, Bramen targets what she calls the development of a “Christology of niceness” that became instrumentalized in numerous political initiatives, most notably the late-century Social Gospel movement. In the numerous biographies of Jesus — key examples include Henry Ward Beecher’s The Life of Jesus, the Christ (1871), his sister Harriet Beecher Stowe’s Footsteps of the Master (1877), and Elizabeth Stuart Phelps’s The Story of Jesus Christ: An Interpretation (1897) — Jesus is invariably presented as nice: kind, personable, and sociable. “What a Friend We Have in Jesus,” a poem written in 1855 and set to music in 1868, sums up the general attitude nicely.

For someone like Harriet Beecher Stowe, this representation of Jesus had democratic implications: her Christ was a figure who upheld the ideals of domestic order and who swayed without coercing. Jesus’s influence, Stowe wrote in Footsteps of the Master, “was no mere sentimental attraction, but a vital, spiritual force” that functioned not only religiously but also politically. Stowe’s soft, feminized Jesus would be transformed by Social Gospel proponents into a more rugged, manly figure who could take action against the social blight exacerbated by industrialization and urbanization. More polemically, W. E. B. Du Bois, in the provocative “Jesus Christ in Georgia” (1911) which transfigures the Crucifixion into a lynching, repeatedly focuses the reader’s attention on the eyes of a black Jesus and the nice white woman who stays quiet when a mob unjustly attacks and hangs him. Here, the representation of American niceness — and its failure to occasion real moral courage — serves a critique of racial violence, while also appealing to the conscience of white people.

Meanwhile, Bramen’s fourth type, feminine niceness, while requiring constant supervision and discipline, demonstrates the increasing entrenchment of niceness as inhibitor to wide-scale progressive change. For its champions, feminine niceness was the only glue that could hold together a society atomized and alienated by capitalist culture. But it only went so far. Stowe is, again, an illustrative figure. In We and Our Neighbors (1873), she portrays a therapeutic version of niceness by putting a nice, newly married woman in an unfriendly urban neighborhood and having her transform it into a community. Problematically, though, “the novel offers a personal understanding of structural inequities that can be pacified through individual acts of caring.” In other words, Stowe’s version of neighborliness can be put, in Bramen’s words, “in service of a model of capitalism where profit can be reconciled with social bonds and exploitation can be mollified through niceness. Interpersonal relations — the female domain of sociality — can make capitalism more humane.”

¤

Bramen’s book concludes with a reading of the ways that the foundations of niceness laid by Indian hospitality, the African-American smile, the amelioration of Christology, and the amplification of genteel womanhood provided the launching point for US imperialism abroad. As the proof of a culture of American niceness that worked in multivalent ways, both proponents and critics of US imperialism deployed niceness as if it were an already settled fact. On a global scale, Americans cherished their niceness, convinced that they could become a “likable empire” in the Philippines. A figure who looms large here is the colonial governor and future president William Howard Taft, whose affable personality conveyed a “‘manifest cheerfulness,’ a national affect that […] conveyed [a] spirit of optimism and hope.” Taft’s magnanimity publicly advocated for racial equality, even as his private correspondence suggested more racist positions.

Positive stories also came from Thomasite teachers who wrote of their experiences with Filipino students that countered colonial hierarchy with a notion of reciprocity. But such evidence of personal niceness seems hypocritical when read in light of the Moro Massacre in 1906 and the blistering critiques penned by Mark Twain and Du Bois. Recognizing that some might think these personal stories from individual missionary-teachers and their students matter little in the face of colonial violence, Bramen nevertheless considers them historically important as “paradoxical figures who combined an imperial mission with personal vulnerability.” In other words, such demonstrations should not be erased in the critique of imperialism; in these instances of positive exchange, niceness was a force for good.

While I found myself struggling with the salvific qualities of niceness in this last instance, Bramen doubles down on this insight with a concluding gesture, worth quoting at length, that rewards the persistent reader who has become fully convinced that American niceness is the absolute worst thing to ever happen in human history. “On the one hand,” she writes,

niceness has enabled a pattern of forgetting, a way to disavow both the nineteenth-century wounds of genocide and slavery and their ongoing legacy today. This national habit of disavowal has depoliticized the violence of the white settler nation and its imperial manifestations by focusing instead on interpersonal moments of likability, epitomized in the media spectacle over Governor Taft’s popularity in Asia. On the other hand, however, over the course of its highly contested history, niceness has also been the vehicle of critique, a way to challenge, unsettle, and contest manifest destiny. […] [N]iceness represents the foundation and precondition for new forms of economic and political justice, reminding us that if the interpersonal can disavow the structural, it can also help us reimagine the world.

It’s a positive spin to put at the end of an otherwise dispiriting story (how American). It also seems the right move. Niceness in everyday sociality has received limited attention from cultural historians, and with all variety of political winds blowing these days, Bramen’s book offers a valuable new launching point for those seeking progressive change, for we must first see the full range of our condition. It’s hard to argue that we should dispose of niceness altogether, as it certainly seems a desirable and perhaps crucial element that facilitates the reciprocity and pluralism of a viable democratic ethic. Plenty of figures in Bramen’s book deploy niceness as one antidote to injustice. May we now find more.

¤

D. Berton Emerson teaches American literature and culture at Whitworth University.

The post The Dark Side of Nice appeared first on Los Angeles Review of Books.

from Los Angeles Review of Books https://ift.tt/2Hi7usz

[hiro-gari]

Batarou Headcanon - a Stuffed Wolf and an Old Photobook by: Little1993lamb to: Lilia / @hiro-gari

Word count: 2298 Warning: Some kissing scenes and a mention of making out, but nothing explicit.

Hello again! I’m back with more small Batarou headcanon~ 😁✨

This time I decided to write little fluffy hc for both of them, because lately I feel down more often than usual and thinking maybe some comfort writing about these secretly softie boyfriends will help 😅💦

Hope you enjoyed my little headcanon! 😉💕

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One day when Badd was cleaning Garou’s stuff boxes in attic room that he brought after the former fugitive moved into Badd’s house, he found an old mini album contained Garou’s childhood photos along with a small fluffy stuffed white wolf doll.

It was a big old fashioned photoalbum book, already became dusty from being in the storage box for a long time.

Then Badd inspected the fluffy stuffed wolf, it was still in pretty good condition as it seems someone cared enough to keep the doll from any damage. Clearly a precious gift from an important person of Garou.

When he looked it closer, the stuffed wolf is kinda adorable, too. The white fur was very fluffy, if it washed properly probably would be fluffier than its current condition. This stuffed wolf even has tiny golden beady eyes and that “ :3 ” smile on its muzzle.

‘Just like the owner of the doll’, Badd chuckled lightly by the thought. He was amused about this fact. Maybe after the entire attic cleaning has finished, he would do some quick laundry to clean up the stuffed wolf before giving it back to his handsome boyfriend.

Putting the cute stuffed wolf doll aside, Badd opened the dusty photo album.

On inside, page by page, he found alot of tiny Garou pictures, from the time he was a little baby in his mom’s craddle, his toddler days with both of his parents, until the beginning of his elementary school years. The photos were put in right order so Badd could recognized the progress of Garou’s growing up stage in a couple of years.

He didn’t know that Garou used to be a sweet looking kid, very different from what he’s like in present time. Nothing like a naughty brat or delinquent boy like Badd has imagined before, nothing at all. By seeing these picture, he figured out that Garou was a normal child, with a little bit of timid nature. So different with what Garou was currently: the confident extra dramatic feral wolfboy.

And Badd noticed the photo collections amount were diminished after Garou entered elementary school, and had completely stopped once Garou graduated the elementary school. He wondered what happened to Garou during that time.

Still curious, Badd cleaned up the dusty photoalbum and then carried it with him so he could show the album to his boyfriend. Not forgetting to also bringing the stuffed wolf doll in, he put it on the laundy as he would clean it later. After that, Badd went on searching his missing boyfriend.

He found Garou lazily lounging on top of the couch with Tama in the living room, casually watching tv while drinking cola. Once Garou noticed Badd’s presence, his eyes twinkled and he grinned widely. He patted the seat beside him so the young hero would sit together with him.

Badd approached Garou, accepting his invitation to sit beside him. He was coming into welcoming arms of his boyfriend and then leaned his head on the wolfboy’s chest, enjoying the warmth of his embrace. Before Garou shifted his attention back to the tv show, he saw Badd still craddling a big old photoalbum that seemed very familiar to him. He asked Badd where did he find that thing.

Badd carefully answered that he just cleaned the attic along with Garou’s old stuff, then he accidentally stumbled into his childhood memento. He had seen the photoalbum contents and wanted to give it back to Garou, probably they can salvaged the old photos and placed them into their newer photobook along with Badd’s own childhood photos.

Garou seems agreed with Badd’s suggestion, he let him do what he wanted. But Badd still curious about one thing: it’s about Garou’s past. From what Badd knows, ever since Garou moved in, he hasn’t tell Badd about his past before the hero hunting days. Wanna asked about the matters, but he afraid Garou still not ready to be more open with him.

That’s why Badd wont ask Garou something he wasn’t comfortable enough to tell.

Garou was contemplating himself, should he tell about his horrible past to Badd or not? But Garou knows Badd wont judged him no matter what happen, hopefully Badd would also understand him. Besides, they’re already giving mutual trust for each other even before they started dating. It made Garou feels very grateful to be together with Badd.

Prepared to spill the truth behind his past, Garou took a deep breath then gazed tenderly at Badd’s face for a moment, before proceeding to tell his childhood experiences.

After Garou telling Badd all of what happened to him that made him changed, Badd said, “You should look at my childhood photos, I was more like a punk kid than I am now. Besides, we could have been bestfriends, maybe with that I could protected you from any mean kids and scared them away from you”, while holding Garou in a comforting hug. In which Garou reciprocated in by enveloping the smaller body into his arms, hiding his face on Badd’s neck.

Badd continued, “I’m so sorry that I wasn’t there for you back then, if I could turned back the time I would absolutely become your friend. So you wont be alone”, he tightened his hold onto Garou’s back. “But now you have me, we could make many happy or silly memories together as much as possible from this day on”.

Badd finished it with a gentle ruffle on Garou’s fluffy spiky hair, then kissed his cheek softly for a brief second while still holding Garou tightly.

Garou was a bit teary during listening to Badd’s heartwarming speech. He didn’t expect that one day he would be receiving those genuine reassurement words, something he desperately yearned back then years ago when he was a lonely bullied kid.

Garou wished that he could meet Badd much earlier in his life, and wished that their actual meeting between them wouldn’t be in a silly fight which was almost resulted in life-or-death situation. But of course both of them couldn’t rewind the time to make it happened.

Badd was right, the least they could do is to create many memories together and live their life the best, enjoyed it to the fullest. Maybe it wont be perfect, but as long as they’re happy then it’s alright.

Only the cheery voices from tv show and purring sounds of Tama were heard in the background. All was forgotten at the time Garou and Badd giving deep loving affections for eachother in a tight, warm embrace.

Drowned by the comfortable and relieved feeling of having someone who cares about the other dearly, everything else was just unimportant white noises for them both.

At some point Garou also shared some sweet and soft kisses for his beautiful kindhearted lover, to show how much he feels grateful to be with Badd right now, tomorrow, and for years later. For forever, as long as he still breathing.

And in return, Badd also giving the same amount of affectionate gestures for his beloved purehearted lover, by planted deep passionate kisses on his lips, whispered sweet nothings which also reassuring love vow into Garou’s ear.

This time Garou deserved to be pampered as Badd will gives permission for his boyfriend to do anything he likes, while Badd still showered him with love he has for Garou. Maybe tonight would be an interesting romantic night, considering Zenko was currently having sleepover in her bestfriend’s house so Badd could have private night with Garou.

But for now, Badd let Garou holds him in his arms, enjoying their sweet intimate moment. Purring softly in content on Garou’s chest mimicking what Tama usually does, Badd closed his sleepy eyes.

Taking a little nap together on lazy Sunday afternoon sounds not bad..

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The next day after Badd coming home from Hero Association’s boring monthly meeting, Garou and him, with a generous help from Zenko, rearranging their childhood photos and placed them in a newer family photobook. They cleaned up the photo papers to make sure they wont get damaged by the dust or moths before putting them inside the new album.

Some of good pictures of Garou’s and Badd’s childhood years were being made into small collages and framed onto their bedroom’s wall. Made it seems believable, like they were actual childhood bestfriends who spent their life together since beginning. Decorated beautifully by Zenko, of course, because these two hopeless boys don’t have good aesthetic sense.

Badd promised Garou and Zenko that they will takes photos of any of their good events from now on, then collected them to save in their family photobooks. So they will have their happy moments documented throughout the time.

About the stuffed doll, Badd also digging up his own storage box and found his old handmade kitty plushy doll. It was his late mom’s handmade doll as Badd’s 5th birthday present. After he washed up the two stuffed animals, Badd placed them on top of their bed.

The adorable stuffed white wolf and the cute tuxedo kitten plushy doll, standing side-by-side together neatly on top of Garou’s and Badd’s pillows. They looked exactly just like their owners, and they’re also together now.

Badd felt so proud of his works, both for the framed photos on the wall (mostly he credited the design to his amazing lil sis!) and the decoration dolls on their bed. Garou was chuckling when he saw Badd like that, glad that his hero boyfriend had done all of it just to make Garou happy.

Garou went to hug Badd from behind, entrapped the smaller man inside loving embrace, in which Badd responded with approved humm as he leaned back into Garou’s warmth. Happy that Garou appreciated his effort.

Then Garou put his chin on Badd’s shoulder and snuggling him, while sneakily saying “Thank you, babe~” so softly into his ear. Complete with (un)necessary biting on Badd’s earlobe that made the young hero blushing brightly and elbowed the laughing wolfboy on his sternum.

The friendly bickering and light manhandling between them quickly turned into a brief steamy making out session on the bed. They were ready to escalate it further more, before repeated hard knocking from outside the bedroom door by Zenko stopped them in track, calling both of them to prepare the dinner meal.

With a teasing smile, Badd told Garou that they should continue it later after they all have dinner together. He gave a soft peck on his boyfriend’s lips, then he immediately got up to answer Zenko’s call. If Garou were really a wolf, he absolutely would joyfully wagging his fluffy tail at the moment while following Badd along towards the kitchen like a lovestrucked puppy.

Meal preparing and their family dinner went normal as usual, but Badd could feel a pair of bright golden eyes always gazing at him with much tenderness whenever Garou thought Badd didn’t noticed him doing that. He just replied it with a soft smile towards his lover.

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Later at night, when both of them were ready to sleep, Badd saw Garou reaching for the stuffed white wolf and craddled it on his chest. He closed his eyes while caressing the doll with gentleness, like it was a precious rare treasure. Badd thought for a moment, Garou looked like a small innocent child like that.

Badd understand what Garou just did, it was because the doll was the last thing he got from his late mother, a present that was given for kid Garou before her death. He clearly missed his mom but haven’t got a time to reminisce the memories of her, at least until now.

Same as him, Badd himself also not too much showing his emotional burden and weakness to people after the death of his parents. Even to Zenko, because he must be strong brother for her despite he was also hurting inside, but haven’t found someone who was willing to lend their shoulder for Badd to lean on, to seek comfort at, and to help him released his bottled up emotions.

But then Garou comes into his life, slowly giving his trust and warmed up to him. Eventually he was offering Badd a chance to opened up his hidden burden as a hero and as a person, despite Garou himself still keeping his hurtful memories.

That’s why Badd also wanted to return his favor by giving him lots of happiness that Garou. That eventhough he has awful past, he still deserved to received more joyful things in his life. And Badd was more than happy to do all of it, anything to make Garou smiling genuinely more often.

Felt the sleepiness has been catching on him, Badd also grabbing his own kitten plushy doll and hugging it dearly on his chest. It’s been so long not to sleep with the doll, especially after the tragic day because it would hurt him.

Now that Badd has already found his own happiness, he could thinking his memories of his mother calmly. Not the painful one anymore but the blissful one. He still missed his father and mother so bad, of course. But he hoped their parents already in peace together in heaven. Maybe they were watching him from above there now?

Bringing the cozy blanket with him, Badd shifted closer towards Garou so his lover would cuddle him. By the instinct, the sleepy Garou put his arm around Badd and pulling him more closer until Badd could rest his head near Garou’s chest. Purring contently, Badd snuggled against the hard pecs, feeling safe and comfort already.

Both of them have a good sleep and nice dream that night in eachother’s arms. The stuffed white wolf and tuxedo kitten plushy could be found between their sleeping figures..

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🐺 THE END 🐱

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Notes:

Honestly I feel this very cheesy but I couldn’t help it, forgive me for the OOC-ness I’m so sorry! 😅💦

Also Lilia, if you noticed, this headcanon was actually based on your Garou headcanon and our small convos about it here: •https://hiro-gari.tumblr.com/post/636445859688677376/what-if-garou-has-a-box-of-his-old-stuff-still •https://hiro-gari.tumblr.com/post/636531124727889920/what-if-after-garou-was-gone-from-bangs-dojo-and •https://hiro-gari.tumblr.com/post/636579523086958592/little-garou-with-a-stuffed-wolf-thats-so

Because I like the imagery, I tried to make a little writing from our shared headcanons. Hopefully you don’t mind it 😆💕

And I also combined those ideas with my older headcanon which I sent for @the-goddessfighter last year in here (please check out her amazing illustration for it, it’s lovely! 💖): https://the-goddessfighter.tumblr.com/post/629479209492987904/part-1-badd-was-cleaning-off-his-attic-when-he

So how was it, do you like this headcanon? 👀✨

Before I ended this note, I wanted to say sorry if my writing seems boring or uninovated, because I only rewrite/recycled the old hcs without being able to write newly fresh ones 😢😞 Or that I always writing Batarou waaaah I’m so sorry that I’ve been clogging your Garou simp blog with my submissions, I must apologize to your followers, too, forgive me– *bowing profusely* 😭🙏💦

Nowadays I’ve been slowly losing my confidence to write, because I don’t know if my works is good enough or not. Maybe I’m not good enough, but I’m very grateful for anyone who still willing to read these messy writings of mine. Thank you guys, your supports are encouraging me to keep going! I will try my best :“”)

Like usual, many thanks always being given for: @hiro-gari, @the-goddessfighter, @kaincuro, @guby1620, @garous-nipple, @jusqu-une-etudiante, and @lovelybutnot-ablankcanvas, and of course all of Batarou shippers in the fandom! Thank you, I love you all~ 😭💕💖

Hope you guys have many great days, thank you~ 😚😘❤💜💙💖💝🌸🌻💐

-Little1993lamb-

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~Lilia:

aaahhH OMG our little wolf convo ;~; I’m so honored it could help inspire this beautifully nostalgic and emotional headcanon the “if I could turned back the time I would absolutely become your friend” really hit me like a bus I’ve got real tears in my eyes

It makes me so happy to imagine them having each other now, a steady support to lean on in their chaotic lives, and finally putting all those bitter memories to rest ♡