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lumine-no-hikari · 8 days

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Dear Sephiroth: (a letter to a fictional character, because why not) #156

I finally decided to play some Elden Ring today. Made myself a nice little character and everything. Though admittedly, that part took a while, because the little sliders that let you adjust certain aspects of your character's face also adjust unrelated aspects of your character's face whenever you move them. It's a very strange thing to be adjusting the slider for the eyes, only to discover that random parts of the chin are changing, too. Very bizarre. Very disconcerting.

Well, it's whatever. In the end, I basically put all the sliders in the middle, and the results weren't hideous, so I left it at that. It's good enough!!! My character is very cute!!! I decided it!!!

I had almost forgotten that at the beginning, you have to try to face a relatively higher-level enemy right off the bat:

This enemy is called a "Grafted Scion", and boy howdy, it does an AMAZING impression of a food processor; it's very impressive - it must have practiced a lot! The only problem is that it's trying to do this in my general direction, and sometimes it even yells at me, too, which is SUPER rude! And I can't exactly talk to it or try to reason with it, and "smoothie" isn't on my list of future career aspirations, so my only choice, sadly, is to hit it until it stops thinking that I'd be a healthy snack if only I'm blended with a little kale or whatever.

But there's a problem with that, see. It only takes one hit, maybe two hits if I'm lucky, for my character to go down. And this thing will probably need to be hit dozens of times, at least, before it stops actively trying to be bad for my health. And… I haven't played this game in a while. My skills are very rusty, and I'm finding that I have to readjust myself to the lag between when I push a button and when the character does the thing the button tells it to do. It's a notable amount of lag, and so sometimes I end up thinking I pushed the wrong button, so I try a different one, and it seems to queue inputs at least a little, so… yeah. I'm kind of a mess right now, hahaha!

To be sure, technically you're not supposed to win this fight - it's kind of like the Unspeakable Deep in Salt and Sanctuary that way. When you fall to this enemy, you get whisked away to this underground tomb-like place and then you wake up. But this Grafted Scion is standing between me and the door beyond, and I wanna see what's in that door without getting whisked away to some weird hole in the ground, and for some reason, I can't just walk up to it and politely ask it to let me through the door, so… I've needed to start new games every time I get pureed, because for this enemy, the game won't just let you try again from where you fell, which is kinda lame.

But that's all right. I'm a patient little nugget when I have my mind set on something. I've decided that this Grafted Scion doesn't get to push me around and get all up on my case just because I'm lost and wandering around, so I'll just keep trying again until I gain the skills to put a stop to its entirely unreasonable shenanigans. Why? Because I've got boundary skills, muthafuckaz (at least in certain limited contexts; I'm working on it)!!!

I can try as many times as I like. All I have to do is practice, and I only need to succeed once. Truly, it is the Grafted Scion who is the one in trouble here, because this entity will not grow and change, and as long as that holds true, this entity will have to face me - an opponent that slowly, but surely, gets stronger every time I fall. Eventually, this entity will fall to me, though not permanently; death is not really a thing in this world, so if I knock this entity's ass out, it's mostly just an inconvenient and very temporary setback, because the entity will reconstitute itself and come back, same as the zombies in Salt and Sanctuary. It's kind of like putting them in "time-out", in a sense - "If you cannot keep your hands to yourself while I am in this space, then in order to keep myself safe, I will have to place you temporarily in a spot where you cannot hurt me, until I am all done here, or until you become willing to control yourself - your choice." Or something to that effect.

…And at that, it's only like this because I, as the player, am not given the power to try to speak to this entity or reason with it. To be sure, I'd much rather sit and listen to this entity talk about their life experiences over tea. They're VERY good with sharp objects, so, ya know, I gotta wonder how they became so skilled. What is it like to see through their eyes? And maybe if they weren't so busy being invariably hostile towards random passers-by, they could maybe learn to cook instead? I mean, heck, you can't imagine what I would give to have that kind of precision with my hands; I could cut SO MANY paper-thin slices of onions and tomatoes and cucumbers and put them on SO MANY epic sandwiches…!!!

And yes, I'm more than aware that this entity does not look like a more typical living thing. I understand that this entity went through a lot of painful, horrible stuff to become this way, and it's not my intention to invalidate that struggle. But… ya know? I played Undertale. I've seen the results of Alphys's and Asgore's terrible experiments. And I know that just because something looks different doesn't mean there's no possibility for reintegration back into the community, as long as there's adequate support. I don't understand why people look down on things based on their appearance. I don't understand why this entity should be treated as though it's lesser just because it doesn't look the same as us, or just because it went through an ordeal, or just because it's maybe not quite human anymore.

…Thinking about this, I am reminded of another adversary in the game. These ones are called Chanting Winged Dames, and they look like this:

And, oh, Sephiroth, they can fly!! And they can sing!! And their voices are so, so, so pretty - look:

youtube

…Really, I'd love nothing more than to cut away the barbed wire around their legs; it looks so painful. I'd love to sit and listen to their songs. I can see the shiny trinkets they wear, and I want to bring them whatever shiny trinkets I'm not using, if it strikes their fancy. I really don't want to hurt them. But this game leaves me with no option to speak, and if they see that I am nearby, listening to their song, they immediately try to tear my head off, and they won't stop trying to tear my head off until they aren't moving anymore, and… I guess I find it really sad.

Truth be told, this whole game is really sad. There are 6 different endings, and some of those endings are certainly better than others, but none of them seem to leave the peoples that inhabit this world wholly safe, happy, and free. One ending would destroy everything. One ending would see everything locked in eternal suffering. One ending would restore the status quo, but the status quo is deeply flawed. One would restore the status quo, minus some discrimination. Then the "best" two endings… one ushers in an age of prosperity, at the expense of free will. And one ushers in an age of free will, at the expense of things such as comfort and joy. As of yet, there is no ending that offers comfort, prosperity, joy, and free will to all.

Suppose that's why I never finished the game back when I used to play it more regularly; I don't feel qualified to make that choice on behalf of everyone. So mostly I just wander around, trying to ease suffering for the various NPCs as I can. Suppose I'm a little unusual in that my "super secret big bad power fantasy" is… to be able to help everyone. To be able to ensure that everyone can live without suffering. And I suppose when I can't do that, I get discouraged really easily.

…Suppose it's why I never finished Breath of the Wild or Tears of the Kingdom, either. The person doing all the bad things was born to a people who have exceedingly slim odds of bearing male children. These people look down on men as inferior and untrustworthy. And… this person was born as a male into this culture. He was made ruler, but that does not erase the psychological damage that comes with watching how disdainfully the people he loves treat others with his same genitalia.

The mechanics of being put in a "golden child" position are similarly damaging because it forces a child (who neither has the power to change anything nor the skills to cope) to bear the cognitive dissonance of watching someone who is the same as them get denigrated while they themselves practically get worshipped. This usually produces a sense of guilt about the fact they're being treated well while someone else is not, as well as shame about who they are as a person (because they watch someone who is mostly the same as them get treated like dogshit), but they won't know how to articulate it or talk about it, and even if they could, they'd likely lose the approval of the capricious people upon whom they depend to continue to live as a result. And, as you might expect, the result of losing their approval is, usually, getting abused.

So from here, the only choice is to do whatever they can to shove away their feelings of guilt and shame, while also doing whatever they can to justify the abuse of the person who is similar to them. And for a young child whose sole source guidance is someone who is cruel, the best available method of coping, because it kills two birds with one stone and brains prioritize efficiency, is usually clinging desperately to "I'm superior" as a notion, no matter how false they know such an assertion is deep down. The subconscious knowing that it is false produces terror and hostility whenever the notion is challenged, simply because if the notion is false, then why shouldn't they be treated just as poorly as the other person? And being treated just as poorly as what they've witnessed is, naturally, terrifying.

So essentially, in Breath of the Wild and Tears of the Kingdom, a person with a subconscious sense of shame and inferiority (which he tried to cover with arrogance and hostility, as is typical…) was put into a position of power, and in a desperate bid to fill that void and prove his worthiness, he waged war on everyone and everything. I don't want to destroy someone who really just needs lots of super intensive therapy while being confined in a space where he will be safe, cared for, and unable to hurt anybody. So I play up until just before the end and do all the quests I can, and then… that's basically it. Like I keep saying, the compassion I have for others doesn't stop at you. I don't know what to do in most cases because I am not very smart, but the right answer certainly isn't destruction, because if it was, then every world would already be peaceful by now.

The world I live in is complicated and messy. It's a lot of traumatized or otherwise unwell people running around, not really knowing what they're doing, trying to fill the sense of emptiness tugging at their hearts with whatever works in the moment, while also trying hard not to traumatize other people, and… results are always mixed at best. Everyone is running around with struggles that other people know nothing about. And that's why I think there's no such thing as "monsters" or "evil people". There are certainly "evil" and "monstrous" words and deeds, but these are the result of dealing with genetics that limit their skills, or living a life that has left them bereft of the skills they need to succeed, NOT the result of inherent badness of character.

I believe that everyone can be helped, even if my world has not yet built the infrastructure that would make it possible at this time. Because, for sure, the kind of help that some folks need is along the lines of "being reparented basically from scratch in a safe, loving, and supportive environment", and… for whatever reason, there are currently no facilities that offer this, and I don't have the money or manpower it would require to build one and staff it with kind and caring experts in the required fields. It's frustrating as hell.

…Fwhoof. Suppose I've prattled on long enough. Guess you can tell I'm a little better rested, because I surely had a huge case of galaxy brain going on here, haha… As always, thanks for listening…

I'll write again tomorrow, okay? So stay safe out there. I love you.

Your friend, Lumine

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nerdychick13 · 10 months

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Hello again my lovelies! Finesse here with another update post-Casa. Elliot stuck and I am no longer single. Production couldn’t explain how my former relationship remains intact after I’d been dumped from the villa. However, I still plan to graft Ozzy while keeping things casual with Chloe. It was so hard to say goodbye to Andy and Francis but neither of them deserves to see me grafting Ozzy in front of them. I wish them well and I plan to connect with them on the outside. Maybe I’ll host a Love Island reunion cocktail party or dinner after this.

These couples are really something. Let me start with Flo and Jamal. Amy is clearly over Jamal and he & I have become good friends. What is news to me is that Flo didn’t come to the villa for Jamal, but for me! She’s a stunner with her pouty lip and gorgeous curves. I like how direct she is. I really respect how she goes for what she wants. I look forward to getting to know Flo more as we continue our journey in the villa.

Amy and Marshall are on the rocks! Sorry, not sorry for being so excited about this. After warning her about what a drama fiend Marshall is, Amy is finally seeing the light. He kept getting into fights with Ozzy, especially after it came out that Marshall spoke so ill of Ozzy in Casa Amor. I don’t want this couple to last, even if Amy believes they could last outside the villa. I don’t see that lasting very long. I just have to wait it out.

Grace and Ozzy acted like they were all good, but that façade last long. Ozzy had a three-way kiss with two casa gals! I am jealous that I wasn’t there to get in on it. I’m glad Ozzy had some fun when Grace & I were away. He and I had a chat on the roof terrace. We still have these feelings for each other and our kiss confirmed that. We are biding our time until we can couple officially. He and Grace are having issues. She didn’t like hearing about his three-way snog. But Grace has no reason to be upset. She was all over Hamish in Casa Amor, even leading him to believe that she’d twist with him. Ozzy and I were front and center during Movie Night. Grace really kicked off at that. Again, she and Ozzy need to stop picking each other since they haven’t worked through these issues. Ozzy knows he would be so much happier with me. Maybe once the new guy comes in he’ll feel better about dumping Grace.

Chloe and Roberto are still a friendship couple. Roberto is still coming onto me. I’m not interested in him and I told him so much. I didn’t want to hurt his feelings but I have to follow my heart. Roberto is so nice he didn’t flirt with the casa girls but tried to help his friends out instead. I hope he finds someone in the villa soon. Maybe Grace could be that girl; I don’t want Amy trying it on with Roberto, it just doesn’t seem healthy for him. Chloe unfortunately hasn’t come up in my estimation as Flo has. Although I’ve spent more time with Chloe, I like Flo better.

Elliot is too full-on. He really wants things to work between us but I don’t. Elliot likes me way more than I like him. I appreciate him sticking so I don’t get dumped but I don’t want to be all romantic with him. It’s so hard being popular sometimes.

So we got a text that a new boy is coming in. I hope he likes Grace. Yes, my motives are selfish because I want Ozzy but Grace deserves to find love in the villa. I just know Ozzy’s heart is with me. Until next time,

xoxo,

Finesse

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tarnished-doll · 2 years

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[2/3] Failures and Successes [Godrick/OC]

[PART 1]

i do love writing them at their Most Divorced ngl

cw: descriptions/discussions of child death, experimentation, ect ect godrick wtf are you doing my guy

Marigold kept a distrustful eye on the grafted man as he led her into his bedroom, both for the privacy and for what he kept in it. A dogeared notebook was taken from a writing desk. What it had was no different than the research and note keeping Marigold made in her lab; it contained diagrams, thoughts, logs of operations and lists of needed materials. Fairly competent illustrations mapped out truly terrible, mismatched, monstrous bodies - all belonging to children.

“They all ended up worse than me, healthwise.” There was a dull note of grief in Godrick’s tone, numbed by time and rumination. “Their problems cropped up younger and younger, if they ever survived being born at all.”

Marigold leafed through the pages. It seemed chronologically documented, with the eldest son’s records being first. She flipped over to the back and found diagrams of young Godefroy’s distinctly awful body configuration.

Godrick glanced at them over her shoulder. “You can take those, if you want. I know you must want to ‘fix’ him.”

The Doll hesitated to take the pages. “I don’t know if I can, honestly. He’s the worst I’ve ever seen, and you grafted him before he hit puberty - I never even got as far as to research the side effects of doing that.”

“Well, I beat you to it. It’s all in there; every failure and success I had in fatherhood.” There was no pride in those words; Marigold wasn’t sure what she would do if there was. Hurt him some more, probably. She found him reading through the notebooks along with her, looming over her shoulder. His expression was stone-faced, and guarded.

Some of the other scions were truly hard to look at, and hard to draw, to boot. Though it seemed Godrick’s artistic talent had flourished in detailing the grotesque over the years. Marigold was glad for all of the clear labeling of different body parts, herself. “Are they all your bastards?”

“There’s no sense in wasting a proper heir on this work. Not until I can perfect the right kind of grafts they’ll need.”

“So they truly were just your test subjects, weren’t they?”

“Was I not your test subject, once?” Godrick snapped back at her snide comment. “They were my sons, too. I didn’t want them to have the life I had, I wanted them to be healthy. Even if it meant… replacing the parts of them that weren’t.”

He reached over to flip the book back to the front, detailing his firstborn. Godfrey the Fourth; deceased at age five. The most ‘normal’ of the young scions, in that all of his limbs were of a proportionate size. With it only being imagery and descriptions on paper, the shock of it was dulled. Marigold remembered what Godefroy said: ‘he didn’t want to cut up another child for it’.

She looked over her shoulder to find the grafted man pointedly averting his eyes from his sins. “I was more desperate, then. I couldn’t stomach it for very long. It’s not… it’s not worth it, Doll. I’d rather make living monsters than have twice the number of dead kids on my hands.”

The Doll nodded. She was starting to understand; she hated it, and in that moment she hated him, but she could understand. She saw him at his sickest, and she saw him at his most physically monstrous. He very much preferred one state of being over the other.

Marigold closed the book. “Where are the other survivors?”

“They’re young men by now, for the most part. I let them go off to strike out on their own.” Godrick’s smirk was a mockery of fatherly pride. “Let them and their monstrousness spread my infamy far and wide, if need be. They come back once in a while, bearing gifts and stories, telling me of the full lives they live thanks to me. They don’t resent what I did. They’ve all known what it felt like to have their health take a turn.”

Apprehensively, Marigold looked through the records of the scions with the intent to find a shape that would look familiar. It was difficult finding the boy that she had slain in the graveyard; it had been dark when he jumped her just near the gates, and all she could perceive was a flurry of limbs and swords. Godrick stuck to a similar composition of large abdominal cavities held up by multiple limbs, making differentiating them all the harder at a glance. She could have killed any one of these young men.

“My Lord,” she ventured carefully, “I found one of your sons when I awoke as a Tarnished, in the graveyard on the island just off the coast from here. I killed him, my Lord. I’m sorry.”

Godrick stared at her for a moment, her confession sinking in for him. He cast his gaze down to the floor sadly. “I see. Well… these things happen. They knew the risks.”

Godrick took a seat on his bed with a sigh. His drawn-out exhale came out with a wheeze from no longer having several healthy lungs doing the heavy lifting in his respiratory system.

Marigold sat next to him, still lingering on the notes detailing Godefroy’s condition. She could figure something out, surely. Something to at least streamline his body configuration, make it easier for the poor boy to interact with the world. And that wasn’t even getting into how his condition may change as he went through puberty; Marigold never studied the effects of childhood growth spurts on grafted flesh and bone. Godrick had, however. Measurements from some of the boys were detailed in the margins of his notes, taken intermittently as new grafts were added. Some of them were so small when the procedures began.

The grafted man watched her as she stared at the notes, deep in thought. As one pair of golden hands clutched the book, the other dug their fingernails into the yielding fabric of the bedspread.

“This art gave me a purpose, you know. A purpose that was more than just tending to you.” Marigold flipped through the pages again, going back through every atrocity cataloged within. “I wanted to make something beautiful of what we found; something that could transcend what we thought flesh was capable of.”

She had to close the book, lest she rip out the pages. It shook in her unsteady hands. “But then I wake up Tarnished, and I see all you’ve proven with grafting is that it could make monsters. Of them, and yourself. I cannot believe you managed to take something with so much potential and use it to such ends.”

Godrick straightened his crooked back a little against her hateful glare, matching it with a sneer. “It may be an art, Marigold, but you are not an artist. You are a butcher, like me - you were always a butcher; you just think moderation and symmetry makes it more palatable to an invisible audience. I chose to have alive monsters rather than dead children - what would you have done?”

Marigold didn’t break eye contact with him as they sat, silent, the tension between them tightening like a bowstring. The longer she stubbornly didn’t answer, the more Godrick’s heart sank.

“...Do what you will with him, Doll. I know you will, whether I ask it of you or not.” The grafted man stood with a lurch, still uneasy with his fairly new center of balance. He left her where she sat, rigid, shivering fitfully as her fingers dug into the bedding until it ripped.

#my fanfiction #elden oc posting #godrick the grafted

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giftedfangs · 1 year

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Dash reminds me, I really. Really want to eventually do a thread of Missi really being confronted with what happened with her half-blindness.

I know I don't address it as much as I should, if only because Missi is someone to keep all of her trauma hidden, or try her best to ignore it unless she is pushed hard enough to break. Often times throwing herself into work, studies, or some other unhealthy distraction in an attempt to never confront or talk about it ever again (this is not healthy obvi)

But I really want to get to a thread that peels away the trauma she faced and the kinda timeskip I am adding to her story.

Because while the "main canon" vampair does not, and doesn't seem to want to address it. I do and will be adding extra time during "stuck with you" time when Missi and Duke (now in our AU, Dante) grow closer that Missi struggled *a lot* being able to get used to being half blind. She had been plagued by nightmares, and had to kinda effectively re-teach herself spacial awareness of which I need to implement more that she's not that great at now or has needed to practice more in it.

I will, once i get my new carrd done, be going into that more and what she did to try and cope with and mask how well or poorly she's been doing for the sake of saving face and not looking weak as to not allwo an opportunity to get hurt further.

Teh current "event" with Des is going to be the big chapter that is going to be setting Msisi on a more divergent path, her cane with the rework and this blog offically breaking from the canon as we graft our own stories addressing things others dont seem to be too interested in

#Out for a Bite // OOC #Screams from the Abyss // MT

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drramankholi999 · 2 years

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Things To Know Before Getting A Gum Graft

Gum graft surgery is a protected and effective remedy that will remarkably enhance the affected person's oral well being. But if sedatives have been used, they might want to organize for transportation. After the gum tissue recedes, most individuals might have the ability to notice the color disparity between the tooth enamel and the roots. More importantly, the uncovered roots of the tooth have nerve endings near the surface that reacts to excessive temperatures. The gingival graft procedure is highly predictable and results in a steady, healthy band of hooked up tissue across the tooth. A flap in the roof of the mouth , take away tissue to graft on gums, and close the flap.

Alveolar mucosa is non keratinized oral epithelium and is located apical to the keratinized tissue, delineated by the mucogingival junction . It also needs to be identified that mucosa can surround a tooth in well being. Nonkeratinized tissue also traces the cheeks , underside of the tongue and flooring gum grafting surgery of the mouth. The lips include each non-keratinized tissue and keratinized tissue on the outside, demarcated by the vermillion border. The dorsum of the tongue is keratinized and options many papillae, some of which contain style buds.

This exposes the tooth root, which permits pockets to form between the enamel and the gumline, which makes it susceptible to dangerous bacteria. Some individuals might have a “gummy” smile as a end result of the enamel seem quick. In fact, the enamel may very well be the correct lengths, however they’re coated with too much gum tissue.

The plaque contains numerous bacterial toxins which can promote infection. Antibiotics are solely indicated following tissue grafting if the tissue source is from a donor. In most instances, the tissue is harvested from the patient gum grafting surgery so no antibiotic coverage is necessary. Patients with dental insurance could possibly get all or part of the gum graft surgery covered by their insurers.

From the very starting, Dr. Green and his extraordinary workers put me at ease and took the time to answer all of the questions I stored arising with. I was impressed with how everything was dealt with; from the beginning post-op. Dr. Green clearly defined what was going to happen, the timeframes and sure, even my duties. If you've any questions about gum grafting, please ask Dr. Green.

If you may be experiencing gum recession, it is very important schedule an appointment to discover out why this is occurring. Once this is recognized, a gum grafting process may be beneficial to revive your gums to a healthy state. Postoperative care following a gum grafting procedure is relatively straightforward. Avoid touching the a part gum grafting surgery of the gums that obtained the grafts. That means avoid brushing and flossing the sensitive and fragile areas which have obtained treatment. Your periodontist will doubtless present a novel, postoperative mouthwash designed to manage bacteria, plaque, and other undesirable microbes to prevent infections and promote therapeutic.

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kac29 · 3 years

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Dear @prof-peach Bud is generally doing well .Active and alert and engaging with my other Pokémon. They still have the occasional bad day when they agitate a sensitive or sore spot on the graft seam or when they’ve exerted themself too much and have difficulty balancing but ultimately seem to be doing well.I still take Bud to Professor Apricot once a week for a weekly check up and They’re still prescribed a daily antibiotic and anti-viral medication for the next month to help prevent any further infections.Some interesting news though

A few days after our last contact I noticed this bump on Buds head . At first I was a little worried but once I informed Professor Apricot about it she was overjoyed to inform me that Bud’s Oddish components had grown healthy and strong enough to start it’s summer sprouting . She asked me to document buds growth in between appointments to help identify the type of Oddish and I’ll send you those images

Professor Apricot initial guess that Bud’s Oddish components were part of the Rubus genues was correct . She’s interesting to see if how mush fruit Bud will produce this year to gauge whether Bud’s Oddish components were more than a year old before the graft.

Professor apricot has confirmed that Bud grows blackberries with viable seeds would you and any others interested like me to send you some?

#pokemon #pokemon hybrid #pokemon variations #oddish #sunkern #budew #blaziken #meowth #silcoon #tropius #mightyena #persian #prof peach #pokemon oc #professor peach

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livingcorner · 3 years

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12+ Ways to Make $1000 a Month from Your Garden (Year Round!)

They say when you do what you love, you’ll never work a day in your life. Well, I love my garden and given a choice I’d be out there amongst my garden beds day and night. There’s a big difference between gardening and farming though, and while I love my garden I’m not cut out for the life of a farmer.

While bringing in a full-time gardening income is a bit tricky, making a side income from your garden is easier than you’d think.

You're reading: 12+ Ways to Make $1000 a Month from Your Garden (Year Round!)

Most people see gardening as a seasonal endeavor, that starts in the spring and ends in the fall, coming and going each year. Up here in Vermont, our summer growing season is only a sad 100 days or so, and if I confined my efforts to those short months it wouldn’t make for much of a side hustle. I think it’s important to find a way to earn a consistent side income, so I’m providing options for every month of the year (even in a cold climate like ours).

Beyond that, our land is mostly forested, which means the definition of “garden” is a bit loose. We grow mushrooms in the shady spots and tap maple trees in season. We also forage the wild bounty that nature’s garden has provided, meaning that we don’t have to limit our “gardening” to a small tilled section of the yard.

Even if you’re lacking space in a small suburban lot, expanding outside of the traditional garden into local parks, or taking your garden indoors with salad sprouts, closet mushrooms, and seedling trays will allow you to make use of the space you have year-round.

Here are a few options to earn a substantial side income from your garden every season of the year, with ideas for both city and country folk.

(Be sure to check local laws and restrictions before you start with anything, as those vary widely from place to place.)

Winter Garden Income

While you’d think winter would be the slow season for backyard garden income, believe it or not, it’s actually the best time for making money from your garden. You’re generally less busy with planting and weeding, but everyone is stuck inside dreaming of the garden bounty to come.

Indoor Salad Gardening

January is when everyone’s making new years resolutions to live healthier and eat more salads, but it’s a pretty rough time for gardening in most places. If right around the end of the year you plan ahead with an indoor salad gardening setup, you’ll be in the perfect position to market microgreens and sprouts when they’re in high demand.

Local farms around here sell winter micro greens CSA’s and unlike summer shares where they net less than a dollar on a head of lettuce, winter greens command high prices. A small bag of specialty microgreens runs $12 to 15 each. And I really mean a small bag, maybe 3 cups of at most.

The trick is to grow high-quality, specialty greens that get people excited when the grocery store options are minimal. The book Year Round Indoor Salad Gardening is a great resource to get started, and covers all you’d need to know to grow your own greens. At that point, the problem is scaling up and marketing.

Start a Small Backyard Seed Company

You may think you need to be some kind of multi-national to sell seeds, but in reality, customers are looking toward sustainably grown seed for specialty heirloom varieties these days. It doesn’t get much more sustainable than a backyard garden, and buying seed locally ensures that you’ll get varieties perfectly suited to a particular growing region.

Choosing the right crops is key to generating a good income selling seeds. Tomato seed, for example, is very easy to save and a single tomato often has enough seed to supply a dozen seed packets. The flowers are self-contained, and it actually takes work for plant breeders to hybridize a variety, which means they’ll come true to variety even with many different types grown in the same garden.

Most importantly, people get really excited about tomatoes. Ever wonder why 1/3 of any seed catalog seems to be tomato seed? With all that love for tomatoes, customers are liable to drop $5 for a locally grown packet of seeds for a really great variety.

While tomatoes are really easy, there are many varieties that aren’t much harder. You need to know a bit about seed saving, not only harvesting and cleaning the seed, but about how pollination and selection works by variety. Some varieties require a minimum population size to avoid inbreeding in the long term, and all that’s important to know before you get started.

Seed to Seed is generally recognized as the most encyclopedic book on seed saving, covering just about every variety you can imagine. It has great breadth to get you started, but not a whole lot of depth.

The Seed Garden is hands down my favorite seed saving book. It’s well written and covers varieties in great depth. It’s authored by The Seed Savers Exchange which does great work in the field of preserving heirloom varieties.

The Complete Guide to Seed Saving has a lot of stellar reviews, and it’s the next one I’m going to add to my gardening library.

Even in a small town environment here in Rural Vermont, there are about a dozen local seed companies. High Mowing Seed started out really small just down the road from us, and now they’re a big national brand. Milkweed Medicinals sells specialty seed that’s hard to find, and they now sell in all the local coops.

Find your niche and there’s a great income to be made with homegrown seed.

Selling Cuttings

Even easier than saving seed, selling cuttings is an easy way to make a healthy income from your established plants in the winter months. There are a number of varieties, like grapes for example, that need to be cut back or pruned in the winter. Those cuttings are perfect for starting new plants and many gardeners are willing to pay good money for tiny pieces of your established crops.

I just bought 30 elderberry cuttings from Norms Farms at $4 each to propagate at home. Elderberries grow readily from cuttings, and it’s an economical way for me to get a huge bed of them started. Elderberry plants from a nursery cost about $30 each, so I’m happy with the transaction and the seller just made $120 off a tiny box of trimmings.

There are a number of plants that grow well from hardwood cuttings, some like black currants, are as simple as snipping off a tip and sticking it into the ground. Others require a bit more attention and prep work to the cuttings, but they’re still beginner level.

Scion wood, or cuttings from apple trees to be grafted onto rootstock, is similarly lucrative. All you need is a couple of established apple trees of known varieties and you can harvest cuttings for sale.

Usually, each cutting is only a few inches long, so shipping them isn’t a big issue. There’s a marketplace on the seed savers exchange website, and a scion wood cutting sells for about $4 each.

Start by learning a thing or two about plant propagation, first so that you can establish your own cutting beds, and then so you can educate customers on how easy it is to grow plants from cuttings. Try reading Practical Woody Plant Propagation for Nursery Growers to get you started.

Read more: Why Does My Garden Hose Keep Bursting? | GardenAxis.com

A handful of elderberry cuttings that sell for $4 each.

Growing Mushrooms Indoors

Learning to grow mushrooms is a bit different than most standard garden crops, so this one will take some studying for even seasoned gardeners. Still, there’s the potential to grow large crops from a small indoor space year-round.

The book Organic Mushroom Farming and Mycoremediation describes in detail how to set up a back closet, extra nook or spare bathroom to grow mushrooms with minimal time investment (2 hours a week).

He has a great breakdown of costs, inputs, and yields…but in summary, you can make about $100 per week from a small setup that takes up a 4’x4′ footprint. The system scales easily, with minimal extra time investment, meaning you only need slightly more space to increase that to a grand per month.

The best part, they can grow in recycled 5-gallon buckets picked up from restaurants, and they consume waste products like spent coffee grounds, that you can often pick up for free.

If you have access to outdoor space and hardwood logs, growing shiitake mushrooms is also a great place to start for beginners, but outdoors, harvests would be in the warmer months rather than winter.

I don’t know about you, but when I had an office job my co-workers would have loved to buy fresh mushrooms to take home for a fancy Friday night meal.

Spring Garden Income

Spring is when everyone’s mind is dead set on their own gardens, and it’s a great time to capitalize on the surge in interest in all things green.

Selling Dandelions (and other wild weeds)

While countless suburbanites are spraying their lawns trying to eradicate the dandelions, more savvy gardeners are realizing that one person’s weed is another’s delicacy. Dandelions are edible root to shoot, and better yet, they’re also highly medicinal.

Dandelion root tincture sells for about $12 per ounce, and it only takes a root or two per ounce. The spring greens are highly sought after by local food coops, where they sell for $4-5 per bundle. Not bad for a pile of weeds.

Beyond dandelions, there’s all manner of early spring green “weeds” that can command high prices if you know how to identify, harvest and process them. Chickweed is incredibly invasive, but also delicious, and chickweed tincture has plenty of medicinal uses too.

There’s nothing like making a bit of side income from weeding your garden early in the spring. You’ve got to do it anyway, might as well make it pay.

Dandelion roots harvested for homemade tincture.

Growing Spring Ephemerals

An ephemeral is a crop that has a very short season, and it may only be around for a few weeks before the plants go dormant (or unharvestable) for a full year. Ramps, or wild leeks, are a slow-growing ephemeral that’s only around for a few weeks in the spring, but during that time they’re in high demand by both home cooks and fancy chefs. Knowing where to find a good wild patch is hard, but they’re actually remarkably easy to naturalize in your own backyard.

Growing ramps from seeds just requires the right conditions. Moist soil, under the shade of deciduous trees. The more leaf cover the better.

You’re not growing anything else in that much shade, so growing your own ramps is a great way to earn top dollar from an otherwise unproductive patch of land. This is a long-term venture though, as leeks are slow-growing, and they’ll require about 5-7 years before your first harvest, but after that, a well-tended and sustainably harvested patch can last indefinitely.

Fiddleheads are another crop that’s generally wild foraged, but it’s remarkably easy to cultivate. They can actually be pretty invasive, and I spent a long time weeding them out of my garden so I could grow anything else. I just dug them up and tossed them into a heap, and they kept on growing and spreading from there as if nothing happened.

Fiddleheads can be really productive, and they sell for about $20 a pound here in Vermont where they’re common. You might get even better prices somewhere they’re more scarce.

Since they’re productive, fern heads can be pickled to extend their season, so you can market the bumper crop a bit longer.

My daughter holding a harvest of fiddleheads and ramps.

Selling Spring Seedlings

Selling spring veggie seedlings is an obvious choice. Tomato seeds cost about a tenth of a cent each, but a healthy started plant can easily sell for $5. Sure, there’s the cost for potting soil and pots, but the profit margin is still huge on seedling sales.

The trick is, you’re investing your time and energy into starting plants off right, so others don’t have to. This is one of the most lucrative ways to make money from your garden if you invest in the right equipment and can master the process.

A greenhouse, even a small backyard model, is essential for producing seedlings early enough in the season. As for resources to get you started, The New Seed Starter’s Handbook covers everything in detail, including troubleshooting guides if your plants aren’t performing.

Beyond the income from selling seedlings, you’ll also save a boatload by starting your own seeds instead of purchasing starts. That’s one of those penny saved is a penny earned propositions, and any seedlings you don’t sell can just go right into your own garden.

Take a look at the local market this spring, and see if there are any gaps. Do all the tomato seedlings sell out quickly, or is the market flooded? If there’s plenty of other vendors, consider growing something niche like medicinal herbs.

Start a Backyard Nursery

Similar to growing out your own veggie seedlings, starting your own backyard nursery extends the income beyond the busy spring season. If you’re growing perennials, you don’t have to worry about any unsold plants at the end of the year. Just tuck them in for the winter and try to sell them next year.

Propagating plants from cuttings is remarkably easy, and all it takes is a bit of time and patience. Those elderberry cuttings that sold for $4 each (above) as trimmings will sell for $25 to $30 as full-sized potted bushes in a few years. Just the patience, time and space required to grow out the plants pays back in dividends later.

This is actually a big part of our retirement plan, and we’re putting in perennials throughout our land to serve as cutting sources later when we open our nursery. In the meantime, they’re beautiful, and most are edibles like elderberries, so we’re harvesting the fruit for our table while we patiently bide our time to retirement.

Backyard plant nurseries don’t require that much space, as potted plants can be stored fairly close together.

Summer Garden Income

Summer is peak growing season and it’s a great time to earn income from what you’re growing at home. The big farms and CSA operations have the lettuce market cornered, but backyard gardeners can break into the market by offering really novel crops. Start by focusing on high-dollar items and unique crops that get people’s attention.

High Dollar Specialty Crops

You’re never going to compete with the 100 acre organic CSA down the road on most generic crops, but those big operations cant grow everything. They can grow a lot of the staples most families use every day, but backyard gardeners can grow small amounts of truly specialty crops that demand high prices. Here are a few good options:

Husk Cherries – Also known as ground cherries, these plants produce huge crops of sweet pineapple/strawberry flavored fruit. They grow on plants similar to tomatoes, and each bright orange fruit is wrapped in a papery husk. Just one taste and you’ll want more.

Before we were growing our own, I’d buy them for $5 a pint…now I know that each plant can produce more than a gallon of fruit even with neglect. If you hand out samples, these will sell themselves. It also helps if you give people creative ways to use them.

Cucamelons – Also known as mouse melons, these tiny little grape-sized cucumbers taste like a cross between a cucumber and lime. They’re really wonderful fresh out of hand, and they make great pickles or mixed drinks. The cuteness factor means that these sell for about $5 per half-pint.

Berry Pick Your Own

To complement our backyard nursery retirement plans, we’re also planning a pick your own operation. This requires more space than most of the other ideas on this list, but after the initial setup, labor is pretty minimal.

A while back I calculated the rate of return on a raspberry pick your own, and you’d need about 250-row feet to produce $1000 worth of raspberries. For us on 30 acres, that’s a drop in the bucket, but that may be more space than you can devote to any one crop.

Strawberries are similar, in that a plant generally yields about a pound of fruit in a season, and requires 1-row foot. At $4 per pound, you’d need the same amount of row feet as raspberries. The benefit there is, strawberry rows are much more closely spaced so this may be more practical for some.

Read more: 37 Garden Border Ideas To Dress Up Your Landscape Edging

Garden Tours, Tea Times & Classes

Though it’s not my cup of tea, garden tours and country tea times are a good option for flower gardeners. A local nurseryman around here makes a good side income hosting tea time in his home garden, and runs an annual tour of his extensive plantings, along with specialty days for big blooms (like daffodils). Our gardens are more down-to-earth and “homestead” than they are attractive, but many people’s are just the opposite.

All it takes is a few tables, a decent scone recipe, and a few good teapots, and you’re ready to run a weekly afternoon tea time in the garden. Add in tours and maybe a few gardening classes and you’ve got yourself a ready source of income from your own beautiful backyard.

Medicinal Herbs

With the increasing demand for more alternative remedies, there’s never been a better time to grow medicine in your backyard. Locally grown herbs are still hard to find in most areas, but plenty of people are looking for them.

Many medicinal herbs are perennials, which means you plant them once and you can harvest them for years. And the same compounds that make the plants medicinal also make them resistant to deer and insects, which means less maintenance than garden veggies. For the most part, they’re perennial, persistent and more importantly…profitable.

There’s a high demand for medicinal tinctures since they’re ready to use, and our local coop has half an aisle dedicated to them. Tinctures sell for $8 to $12 an ounce, but they only cost about $1 to $2 an ounce, even if you’re buying in the herbs rather than growing them.

Add in another $1 for the tincture bottle, and you’re still making a pretty sizable profit per bottle. Choosing crops that are common and in high demand, like echinacea tincture can help you break into the market.

As you’re just getting started, I’d recommend Backyard Medicine as a way to dip your toe into harvesting and making your own herbal remedies, especially from wild crops. If you’re considering growing herbs for profit I’d highly recommend The Organic Medicinal Herb Farmer: The Ultimate Guide to Producing High-Quality Herbs on a Market Scale. It’s written by farmers that grow just a few towns over from us, and they’ve inspired a lot of people to take up growing medicine for the market.

The Herbal Academy of New England also has a course designed specifically for herbal entrepreneurs. The course walks you through the basics of creating your own brand identity, marketing, sourcing herbal ingredients, manufacturing herbal remedies and creating a business plan around herbs and herbal remedies.

Fall Garden Income

The end of the garden season, fall is generally when the crops come in. In my mind though, it’s one of the more challenging times to make income as a small producer.

There are a lot of products on the market, and it’s hard to stand out. With the holidays right around the corner though, marketing yourself as a niche producer of really unique homegrown gifts can work to your advantage.

Honey & Bee Products

Gardeners need bees and bees need gardeners! Raising honey bees is a great way to support pollinator communities, but with all the challenges that face hives these days, it’s best to be educated before you start. There’s a really great book called Natural Beekeeping: Organic Approaches to Modern Apiculture that covers just about everything you need to know to keep your bees healthy naturally.

In a good year, with our short Vermont growing seasons, bees can produce as much as 100lbs of honey for harvest. The current bulk price at our coop, meaning bring your own container nothing fancy…is $7 per pound. Pre-packaged just in mason jars, honey goes for $10-12 per pound, and considerably more in specialty gift packaging.

Add in things like bee pollen or propolis for medicinal use, or comb honey, and you have yet more high-dollar items to market.

Honey, especially locally sustainably raised honey is in high demand just about everywhere. People are realizing that bees are important to our environment, and many will be happy to pay for local honey just knowing that it means supporting someone who is stewarding such an important resource in their neighborhood.

Apples, Cider and Cider Press Rentals

My doctor has a small apple share side hustle that she runs with her sister, selling harvest shares to neighbors in her spare time. They have a few full-sized apple trees, and each one produces around 100 to 120 pounds of apples per year. These days, conventionally grown supermarket apples are about $3 per pound…and locally grown apples fetch a premium above that.

She sells shares ahead of time and then divides the harvest as each tree comes to bear. Distributing them to shareholders every week or two as each variety ripens over the season.

We have other neighbors who sell fresh cider that they press from their trees, at $12 per gallon. Last year we pressed nearly 80 gallons from our trees, most of which went into hard cider and homemade cider syrup (like maple syrup), but we easily could have sold it instead. Instead of selling our cider, we have a different strategy for earning our income during apple season.

We invested in an efficient double-barrel cider press, with the thought that we can rent it out to other small apple producers. People with one or two trees in their backyard love the novelty of pressing their own cider, and around these parts a press rents for about $50 for the afternoon. Over the course of the season that can really add up…

Year-Round Garden Income

Beyond different things you can do seasonally to earn a few thousand a couple of months a year, there are things you can do year-round to earn a steady income related to your garden.

Garden Blogging

I know, making income from blogging seems too good to be true, but writing about diy, gardening, and self-sufficiency is now my full-time job. Within 6 months of starting this blog, I started making an extra $1000 a month. After 9 months of writing, I was able to quit my day job, and now at 18 months in I bring in more each month than any job I’ve ever had.

The best part? All I do is write about what we’re already doing here in our daily lives, and I spend my days playing in the garden and out foraging in the woods with my kids.

I was inspired to take the leap into blogging when I read the book Make Money Blogging at Any Level by my blogger friend, Victoria at A Modern Homestead. She outlines in detail how to earn a substantial income, even from a very small blog.

She was able to retire her husband and supports her family exclusively with her blog. If you’re considering blogging as a source of income it’s worth the investment. It’s $27 for the book, and I made that back in my first week with my blog following her tips.

She also has a much more comprehensive blogging e-course that takes you through everything you need to know to launch your own profitable blog. It’s a bit more of an investment, but it’s the perfect way for a beginner to learn everything they need to know to launch their blog fast and start earning money.

Garden Micro-Influencer

Making money on Instagram is all the rage these days, and you’d be surprised how many companies are willing to send you free products just for a promise that you’ll post at least 1 picture of it to Instagram with honest feedback. Once you have even a small following, companies will pay you for your time reviewing it (and you still get to keep it for free…)

Looking for a little inspiration? You can always follow along on my Instagram for ideas…

Hopefully, this helps inspire you to turn your gardening passion into a meaningful side hustle. If you have any other ideas, let me know in the comments below.

More Income Inspiration

How to Make a Full-Time Income Off-Grid

8 Ways to Make an Extra $1000 a Month on a Small Homestead

Making Money with Small Scale Maple Sugaring

Source: https://livingcorner.com.au Category: Garden

source https://livingcorner.com.au/12-ways-to-make-1000-a-month-from-your-garden-year-round/

#livingcornernews

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longitud-de-onda · 4 years

Text

touch the impossible

pairing; ezra x female reader summary; your long journey back home after your scientific mission to the green is joined by an injured man, left behind and broken. rating; g warnings; angst, medical stuff, blood, some more angst. word count; 3.9k requested; by @rzrcrst “Here to request an Ezra fic 😭💔💕 maaaybe you’re the one who helped him get off that moon and you nurse him back to health and you have the gems and he falls in love with you” a/n; thank you for waiting this long. finally feeling ready to write some ezra! also huge thank you to zeek earl for actually responding to my question about cycles

gif by @now-this-is-living

You were on your way back to your ship when you heard the sound of thrower fire. You had dropped down into the brush where you were standing and waited.

It was all over with the blasting sound of a pod firing up and shooting into the sky.

The conical white figure rode up and out of the atmosphere and you remembered the shuttle service was ending that cycle. That pod was probably the last one to leave. Anyone left behind on this moon either had to have their own ship, like yourself, or were destined to spend the remainder of their lives breathing through a filter.

You hadn’t run into many people on your time here, trying to avoid contact as much as possible. You carried a thrower for security but weren’t sure if you had the guts to use it. Your mission here was a scientific one.

Curiosity got the better of you and you stood up to check out what had happened. You crawled out of your hiding spot and discovered that you were near a clearing in the woods, an old dig pit lay to your left, and the ring of black marks from the pod’s launch charred the grass to your left. An empty cage and a still-burning campfire were in front of you, eerie with the still-standing floodlight.

A body lay near the fire. Another in the pit. You could see the shine of fresh blood around him.

You wanted to leave.

As you turned around something caught your eye in the forest that stretched out a few meters higher in elevation than the clearing. A light. Definitely a helmet light. And it was moving, ever so slightly.

Someone still alive was out there and the sensible thing to do would be to run back to your pod and launch back into your ship. But a voice in your head said they might have been hurt in the fight. Might be injured. Might have meant to be on that ship. You couldn’t leave them behind.

You swallowed your fears and plunged into the dark of the forest towards the dim light, your hand gripping tight on the thrower that hung at your side.

As you neared, it was clear you had found someone. The light wasn’t the thing moving, but rather its reflection on the helmet of a man, blood pouring out of his stomach, eyes closed, chest barely rising and falling. Beside him lay the light source: a woman, dead and neck bloodied.

You prodded at the man, willing him to wake up. He came to life with a distant cough, the sound of which was enough for you to know he didn’t have a working air filter. Scrambling, you pulled his hose towards your own filter and plugged it in, the clean air doing little to help his breathing. However, his eyes blinked open, lids still heavy, but blinking, staring at the ground below him.

“Cee,” he said. You could hear it through the panes of glass separating yourselves. “I thought I instructed you to leave me behind. I ain’t gonna make it. Your soul is worth much more than my own.”

“Who the hell is Cee?”

He looked up at you. “I find myself mistaken. You. Are not Cee.”

“That is correct,” you smiled. You rotated the dial on his radio to the channel you were using.

“Are you with Karoclan? If that is my fate, it’s best to kill me now. Please lend me at the very least that mercy and not delay.” His voice, now clear in your ear, was shallow. His accent was difficult to place. Maybe Muir? Or Gandre? You couldn’t tell, but that was typical of drifters. Was he a drifter?

“I am not with Karoclan. I am here alone,” you said. Maybe not the best of words, placing you in potential risk, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. You had just noticed the limp sleeve of his suit, tied near the elbow. He had just lost an arm. He couldn’t have been a threat if he wanted to.

“What is a woman doing here in the Green all alone? You prospecting? Because you are too late, miss. The last pod has taken leave and we will die here. If not killed by the villager, we shall be reclaimed by this moon’s floor.”

“I’m here on a scientific mission. From Belda, near Central,” you explained.

“That scientific knowledge may only go so far now that we are here for our shortened lives.”

“I have a ship.”

“And is there the possibility of your ship having space sufficient for two travelers?”

“It does,” you said. You were going to regret this, but what could you do? The man was a charmer.

“I presume since you are traveling alone, that your second spot remains unoccupied?”

“It is.”

“Well then, may I humbly request passage off of this godforsaken moon?”

“Depends. What’s your name?”

“Ezra.”

“Well Ezra, do you care to join me? We take off in an hour.”

Your ship had more than enough room for two people. It was big enough for a whole crew. The research institute had given you a large endowment to seek out the aurelac gems that were selling at high prices across the galaxy with little information on any of their properties, let alone where they had come from. Along with the money, you were provided a fully outfitted ship.

It was at least thirty stands ago that the first murmurs of aurelac had swirled around. Within a fraction of a cycle, everyone had left work, disappearing to the few planets where they could try to make a fortune. Ten stands later and things were back to normal and since then the price for aurelac only skyrocketed as the supply dwindled. It might not have been a hot commodity anymore, but it had a forceful grip on the intergalactic economy.

You peaked into the medical bay where Ezra lay asleep. Prospectors were few these days, most of them having struck big and retired to remote locations or given up the search and either returned home or continued drifting. But Ezra hadn’t. And you had no idea why.

He had passed out as soon as you made it to the pod, and you had to drag him into the medical bay when you reached your ship. You didn’t sleep for longer than was healthy, patching him up. He had several wounds that should have been fatal, and the amputated arm needed to be covered up. You might have been a doctor, however, medicine was not your specialty. It wasn’t pretty, but it did the job.

“What have you done with my arm?”

“Skin graft,” you shrugged. It had been a while since you left orbit of the green moon, and Ezra had just woken up. You sat beside his bed in a chair.

“Skin graft?”

“Yes. I had to take some skin from your abdominal region. Used it to cover your arm. Whoever cut that off did a good job. Clean. That’s good.”

“Cee.” Ezra breathed out. This was the third time you’d heard the name.

“Who is Cee? She must have been very important to you.”

“Only knew her for a couple of cycles. She and her father came seeking the Queen’s Lair. Cee and I ended up wandering the Green. She may be a young girl but she has a mind the size of a star.”

“Where’s her father?”

“I killed him,” he said.

Your stomach dropped. You opened your mouth to ask why but no sound came out.

“Ma’am, you cannot be a stranger to murder. Out this far from Central? We live solely for ourselves, you cannot get attached because people will betray you. Best to stay five steps ahead.”

“I—” you cut yourself off before claiming to have never killed anyone. While true, it would not have boded well for you. Ezra would see you as weak. That was not an outcome you wanted to entertain.

“Cee’s father was attempting to steal the fruits of my own work. You do not do that without running the risk of death out here.”

“Where is Cee now?” You prayed she wasn’t dead. You knew little, but Ezra seemed to care for her.

“If she listened to me, she has long since left that moon in the last pod to depart. She is now left to the mercy of the Drift.”

Ezra swung his legs down and pushed his torso upright with his one arm.

“I wouldn’t do that—” you spluttered out, placing a hand on his chest to stop him from standing. But he was too determined, pushing forward and up.

It took less than a second for Ezra’s knees to sway and he crumpled into a pile on the floor.

“...the drugs haven’t worn off yet.” You mumbled to the ship.

Ezra had learned his lesson when he woke up. He remained on the bed until he had fully recovered. You had work to do: testing the gems you had collected, ship maintenance, navigation. But the downtime was spent by Ezra’s side.

Given Ezra’s penchant for words, you had thought he would never exhaust in tales of his life and questions about yours, but you were both private people and the stories of your lives were not often easy to say.

Together, you had come up with a game. One of you would name a place you had been or wished to go and an unrelated item. The other would have to come up with a story about it. When that got boring, you added in another element, where you had to include three preset words.

It kept you entertained for a while, but you knew Ezra was growing bored again.

“Who are you?” Ezra asked when you walked into the medical bay one day.

You hadn’t been asked a question like that in a long time. He knew your name. Your job. Where you worked. This wasn’t a question of your information and identity. This was a question about something deeper. You stood by his bed, staring at him for a while as you thought of an answer.

“I’m... I’m a scientist.”

“No. Scientists work in labs and do field research. They work together and for companies and write papers. You do not seem the type to seek that strain of employment.”

“You yourself said that one has to do what they must to make a living. I enjoy my work.” You weren’t sure what to make of Ezra. He was truly an enigma, one that you were struggling to decode.

“You are lonely.” It was a bold claim coming from him, one that gave you pause.

“And are you not?”

Your lab on the ship was small, meaning the number of aurelac gems you had extracted, along with the biological material in which they grew, were littered across every available surface. They were fascinating. And as you walked into the lab, you could tell someone else found them just as intriguing.

Ezra had been walking for some time now. The artificial cycles had come and gone, and he still had no answer as to where he would like to go. You still had a half-stand until you reached Belda, giving him plenty of time to make a decision.

He now stood in the center of your lab, staring at the number of gems you had collected. They would fetch a high price on the market, and the shine of a needy man could be seen in Ezra’s eyes.

“Thinking about stealing it?” you said.

He startled and looked up at you guiltily. “I—”

“It’s fine,” you waved your hand. “You’re a prospector. I get it.”

“You do not understand a thing,” he drawled. “You have an occupation that will sustain you for the rest of your life. I have none of that. What you carry in this ship would buoy my existence for many stands. It is worth more than I have ever had cross my hands. And you are here acting like it is little more than a scientific endeavor.”

“Is a scientific endeavor so worthless to you?”

“It is not worthless to me except when it is deleterious to the lifestyle of others,” he said, his voice rising in volume.

“You think the gems are a lifestyle? Their value will drop. And the harvesting? You may not have noticed, but every time you harvest a gem, an entire organism dies. All of this here? Only killed two and harvested every part of them. An average case is harvested from nine different colonies. Nine deaths. And you don’t even obtain half as much as you see here. Your lifestyle harms too.”

“My lifestyle, at the very least, does not rely on a predilection for the attention of the corporations that cause the ruin of our very society. Mine relies on labor and equanimity and acumen, and I will gladly kill a few to ensure my future. One that is not so secure as yours.” When angry, Ezra’s face warps into something sinister and aggressive, a far cry from the pained and softened appearance of him while he was injured.

You close your eyes for a brief moment, taking a deep breath to center yourself. You had no interest in fighting Ezra more on this. It was clear you were the villain in his eyes, or at least the figure he wanted to project his frustrations on, and you were not going to continue with the fight. It was not worth it when you had many more cycles left with him.

“If you care so deeply about them, wait until you are leaving to take them. It does you no good to steal from those you are still living with.”

The days following your argument the conversation had died down, only to pick up again once you were both fed up with not speaking to the other.

“You still haven’t told me where you want to be dropped off,” you told him. Ezra had been recovering steadily, and you knew within another couple of your ship-generated light cycles he would be ready to leave.

“I have never been given the option,” he said.

You blinked. There was still so much you didn’t know about Ezra. And over the time you had spent with him you had grown so accustomed to his presence that this very conversation was one you had been putting off.

“Do you have family? Friends? Anyone that you would stay with?”

“I am alone.”

It was a raw admission that you might have seen coming, but nevertheless hit you like a stray bullet. Before you could even think of the consequences of your words, you said, “Do you want to come with me? To the lab? There’s plenty of work at the institute? And around the rest of Belda.”

“Not for a drifter like me. My lifestyle is indubitably incompatible with a planet like yours,” he said, shaking his head.

“Sure there is, Ezra,” you said. “There’s plenty to do, and you don’t have anything else.”

He stepped back and you regretted that sentence more than anything you had ever said. “I suppose I do not.”

He walked away that night. Into the cabin that he had claimed. You didn’t see him for another two artificial cycles. When he did show up again, he was no longer the same man. He didn’t smile all the way to his eyes, and his sentences were cut short.

You didn’t want to admit it, even to yourself, but you cried yourself to sleep often after that day. Partly because of the loneliness, but that wasn’t where the shame was rooted. That spot was reserved for the love you felt for Ezra which was no longer returned, if it ever was.

You stepped out onto the solid ground of Belda, happy for the fresh, clean air that filled the skies. Ezra’s first steps out of the landing pod were shaky, and you wondered how long it had been since he had set foot on a fully terraformed planet.

“You go down that road,” you told him, gesturing towards your left, “About a kilometer down you’ll find the shuttle hangar. There’s plenty of people there that need workers for off-planet stuff. Once you sign on they’ll take you to the docking station up in orbit where you’ll transfer to their ships. And you get to return to your life. Win-win.”

“That is quite the deal,” he said, staring off at the point he would be headed.

“So this is it?” you asked, facing him.

“I am afraid so,” he looked over at you. Part of you wanted to embrace him. If you weren’t able to keep him, at least you could hold him in your arms for a moment. Pretend that you could have a life where you were not so lonely. But before you could come to a conclusion, he was walking away. And he took your heart with him.

Your trip to Bakhroma Green might have been work, but it felt like a vacation. Ten cycles had passed since you returned, and life had, unfortunately, returned to normal. Wake up, eat, go to work, a meeting, labs, write papers, lunch, teach university students, another meeting, clean, more writing, return home, sleep. Ezra was right. You might have had a job that offered more social interaction than most, but you were so lonely.

You were in your office, responding to some communications with a scientist on Kamrea who had found an organism similar to that of the aurelac gems on their home planet when you received a call from reception.

“Excuse me, ma’am, but there is a man down here. He says he will not leave until he sees you.”

“Who is he?”

“He won’t say.”

You sighed. Work would have to wait. You closed up your screen and got into the elevator, riding down to the lobby. The doors slid open and you saw a familiar face, hunched over in a chair in the corner. Ezra.

He was out of place wearing regular clothing and sitting in a waiting room as if he were the sort to wait for a doctor or a lawyer rather than do it himself. He didn’t notice you until you were standing in front of him. He looked up, took a sharp inhale. His exhale was shaky as he stood, his singular arm reaching out to touch your shoulder. Maybe it was for stability, but part of you knew him well enough to know he just wanted to touch someone.

“You’re here.” He said.

You nodded.

“I did not know where to go. I am afraid I do not have anyone else,” he said. Your words from your argument flashed before your eyes. You hated that he had internalized them. Then he looked at you in the eye in a way that you felt much deeper than just your face. “I do hope that I have you?”

His absence had torn you apart so much and seeing him again was a confusion you had never felt. It seemed this man was one who would not stop surprising you. “Of course you have me, Ezra.”

“Of that, I am eternally thankful. Your companionship is unparagoned.”

You swallowed. You were not ready to see him again. To hear him say words like these.

“What do you want?” you asked.

“I do not know, only that I am desperate for assistance,” he said, voice low and strained. And you noticed the slight tremor to his body. You nodded again.

“Wait here. I need to clean up upstairs, then I can return,” you said, reaching out to his arm, squeezing gently on his forearm for assurance.

An hour later you sat on one end of the couch in your small apartment, Ezra at the other end, mugs of tea in both your hands. His was to mollify the anxiety, yours was to bring a sense of normalcy back when you had just been confronted with a face you spent nights trying to forget.

“...lost. I do not know where in this wide galaxy I can ever belong. I do not know where Cee is, if I did I may have attempted to find her. But I know little more than her first name and her favorite book. She and her father were drifters, like me. You never encounter another drifter twice.” He stopped to take a sip and you felt your heart sink. There was nothing more heartbreaking than to lose a friend.

“And now without my arm, while I am forever in your debt for the prodigious work, I do not have anything. I cannot do the work I have previously been trained to do. I cannot make a living. I do not have anyone. I do not even know if I have you,” he said, voice breaking. “I am sorry, I should not be putting you in the position to take me in. We hardly know one another, this was a bad—”

“Ezra!” You sat your mug down on the side table and crawled over to him on the couch. You placed one arm on his own, the other on the top of his shoulder, brushing lightly up and down. “It’s okay. I don’t mind you coming here. You have me.”

There were tears in his eyes as he opened his mouth again. “I missed you.”

“As did I,” you confessed. You sank back onto your heels, arms dropped as you knelt beside him. “My offer still stands. You can stay here. There’s work, plenty of it. And you can train in new skills that don’t require two upper appendages. It’s a big city.”

“I cannot request such a sacrifice of your generosity,” he protested.

“It is not a sacrifice, Ezra,” you assured. “I’d actually like it very much if you stayed. I am very alone here. The time I spent with you? You made me feel a little less alone.”

“What can I offer to you in exchange? I have nothing,” he said. “You have already rescued me once.”

“And I do not require anything.” You shook your head, “Don’t you understand? You’ve given me so much already. Your presence would be more than enough.”

“I cannot acce—”

“There is one thing,” you said. You were thinking selfishly at this moment, and had it not resulted in a success, you might have regretted such actions, but the triumph was enough for you to think back often to your words and thank yourself for saying exactly the ones you did. “You can kiss me.”

He blinked and you felt your stomach flip in place. The seconds that lasted before he spoke again felt stretched out, a whole cycle could have elapsed and not felt as long at the wait for Ezra’s response. Then he grinned.

“That is a skill I do possess,” he said. “And may be able to provide.”

And then he raised his hand to your cheek, brushing it gently before reaching around to the base of your neck, pulling you closer to capture your lips in his. You wrapped one arm around his torso and snaked the other up into his hair as you tasted the sweet remains of the tea on his tongue. He pulled off enough to smile against your lips.

“Would this arrangement be a one-time event? Or do I perhaps need to comply a few more times to fully pay off the debt I owe to you.”

“Ezra? You can kiss me whenever you wish,” you laughed.

taglists; (let me know if you want to be added, removed, or moved around)

perm taglist; @turquiosenights @el-lizzie @sparrows-books @dxxkxx @opheliaelysia @trashbin2 @rzrcrst @arcadianempress @stevieharrrr @peterparkers-tingle @blushingwueen @coredrive @lokiaddicted @mserynlarsen @badassbaker @1-800-fandomtrashqueen @flower-petal-blooming @talesfromtheguild @eupphoriaaa

pedro taglist; @pascalisthepunkest @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead

#ezra #prospect #ezra prospect #prospect movie #ezra x reader #camila writes #rated g #under 5 #reader #angst #pedro fics #prospect fics #ez x reader

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transgenderteensurvivalguide · 4 years

Note

Hi I read in the faq your answer to someone about top surgery for fat ppl and I just want to ask for a bit more info... do you think i should wait until I lose weight first? Like I’m worried that even if I get surgery... I’m still going to be fat and then I’ll just have breasts still? Thank u! Sorry if this is a dumb question!

Lee says:

As long as you don’t have any serious health complications because of your weight, you can get top surgery.

Fat folk are probably going to have to get double incision top surgery, since their chest would be too large for a keyhole or periareolar, but they can get just as flat as anyone else with double incision.

It’s more likely you’ll get “dog ears” at the end of your scars towards your armpits, but that can be dealt with by getting a revision which is often free. Make sure you ask your top surgeon what their policy on revisions are, and what fees you’d have to pay if you needed one.

There can be some fatphobia when you’re looking for a top surgeon- there can be some increased risks for overweight people going under anesthesia, and some top surgeons use that as an excuse to turn down a patient even when it is possible for them to get surgery safely.

You may have to “surgeon shop” a bit to find a surgeon who is competent, capable and willing, but it’s possible and achievable! I have two fat trans guy friends who got top surgery in the past year, and they’re totally happy with their results.

Cancer-related mastectomies remove all of the tissue, while top surgery only removes like 90-95% of the breast/fat tissue and the last bit is used to create a “masculine” contour. So a complete mastectomy for cancer would result in a very flat, almost concave chest. You can see some examples of what “going flat” after a breast cancer related mastectomy looks like here.

There are some fat folks who choose to leave in a little more fat in their chest because they feel like the extra fullness fits their body type because some fat men have “moobs” but that’s a personal aesthetic choice and not required or something, and it’s possible to get a flat chest with top surgery if you tell the surgeon to make you flat. I do think the majority of folks choose to go fully flat, but there’s nothing wrong with choosing otherwise.

Because a typical trans double mastectomy leaves about 10% of the tissue in for contour, and a few fat folks opt for even more (although this isn’t common), it’s still possible for post-top surgery folks to get cancer in that tissue. That means top surgery may decrease the risk of breast cancer, but it won’t prevent breast cancer.

So you should still get mammograms if you are the age to start getting mammograms, or you should at least do self-checks. This is something you’ll have to talk to your doctor about, and see what they recommend!

On the website of one top surgeon, they said they took off enough tissue it was unlikely you’d get breast cancer, but another top surgeon’s website said that it’s still possible.

“Is top surgery the equivalent to a mastectomy? In short, NO. At least 10-20% of normal breast tissue is preserved in most patients, especially behind the central pedicle (by necessity), and peripherally by design, to avoid unnatural contour irregularities. In addition, the female genotype is generally still at play, and there is no evidence in the literature that the use of testosterone is protective against breast cancer. Therefore, we uniformly advise that all patients engage in self-breast exams (generally easier with less overall tissue remaining) and start getting mammograms when they would otherwise be recommended (generally starting at age 40), especially (and occasionally earlier) in patients with a strong family history of breast cancer, or positive genetic testing. If a breast cancer were to develop, this would likely be managed (by a surgical oncologist) as it would in any smaller-breasted patient.” -Source

I think it depends on what procedure you’re getting as well, like how an inverted-t incision might be a bit fuller than a double incision with grafts. This article says you might also want to be tested for BRCA gene mutations to help decide what kind of surgery you’ll get if there has been breast cancer in your family.

If you’re worried about getting breast cancer because you’ve tested positive for BRCA gene mutations or family members have gotten cancer, you may want a cancer preventative mastectomy where they take out all the tissue instead of a cosmetic mastectomy like they do for top surgery. If you don’t like that look, you may be able to get silicone pectoral implants once you’re fully healed. But the procedure and your options should be discussed with your treatment team, and this whole thing really only applies to folks who are at a high-risk for cancer so it’s something you could talk to your surgeon about at your consultation.

Anyway, that’s a lil tangent. Top surgery (via double mastectomy) is pretty customizable in the amount of fat you choose to keep, so you can choose if you want a very flat chest, a more contoured chest, a breast reduction or “moob-like” chest because they’re doing large incisions which means they have lots of room to work with when it comes to excising the fat and using liposuction.

If you gain a lot of weight after top surgery your chest may get a little larger, but it won’t regrow to whatever your pre-surgery size was because the breast tissue has been removed.

You can see an example of a larger fellow who got a flat chest here, and another example here. It’s definitely possible for fat folks to get flat chests after top surgery if that’s what they want from the procedure!

Trans Bucket has a ton of pics of this, but right now folks say the website seems to be acting up so your mileage may vary with getting an account.

The Facebook groups Top Surgery Support (removal/reduction) and Non-Binary Top Surgery both have a ton of pictures uploaded as well, but you can’t see any “before” pictures there because of Facebook’s NSFW ban. They’re still worth checking out though for the personal experiences, community, support, and post-op pics.

There are a lot of folks who find it really hard to lose weight even if you’re eating healthy and exercising and all that because the body really doesn’t want to lose weight, so waiting until you’ve lost a significant amount of weight might not be an ideal timeframe for getting surgery because you might find it really difficult to lose weight which means you’ll keep pushing back the process of getting surgery until an undetermined date in the future, and not having surgery or an idea of when you’ll be getting surgery can be bad for your mental health if you have a lot of dysphoria.

And it may also be easier to start getting active when you’re healed from top surgery because you don’t have to worry about wearing sports bras or hiding your chest while in the gym and stuff.

Personally, my advice would be to start the process of getting surgery now if you know that it’s what you need. So that means finding a surgeon, getting your WPATH-compliant letter or whatever else your surgeon/insurance needs to perform/cover the procedure, and schedule a consultation.

If your surgeon tells you at the consult that they are requiring you to lose weight before you get a surgery date, at least you’ll have an idea of how much weight you have to lose which can help direct your goal and keep you motivated.

And you may also want to consider getting a second opinion with another surgeon too, which would be my recommendation if the first surgeon has a weight-loss condition before they’ll operate and you don’t think that goal is possible within a reasonable timeframe, because the second surgeon may be more comfortable with the risk and say that you can get surgery with them without losing weight.

Anyway, what you choose to do is up to you, but I’d try to get a consult ASAP and go ahead with surgery because if you don’t get completely flat after top surgery and you end up with dog ears or something, you can always get a revision.

That doesn’t mean you shouldn’t try to lose weight at the same time (in a healthy way with the guidance of your doctor) if it’s something you want to do, and trying to get started on both goals simultaneously is possible, but even if you don’t lose weight you can still get great top surgery results.

So you definitely can get a flat chest after top surgery even if you weigh a lot pre-op and have a big chest- I’ve seen it myself a ton of times!

#Lee says #weight loss #weight #weight m #weight loss m #top surgery #surgery #chest m #breast m #cancer m #Anonymous

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wisteria-lodge · 4 years

Text

Character Analysis: Sorting The Old Guard

@sortinghatchats has a brilliant personality/character analysis system based on the four Hogwarts houses. At this point it’s become much more interesting and nuanced, which is part of why I’m moving away from using the names of the houses.

Here’s how it works. Everyone gets two houses – a Primary House and a Secondary House

YOUR PRIMARY IS YOUR MOTIVE. IT’S WHY YOU DO THINGS.

LION Primary’s sense of morality and ethics comes from inside. Things just feel right or they feel wrong.

BIRD Primary gets their morality and ethics from the world outside them. They decide what they think is right.

BADGER Primary is focused on the good of the group. Who cares if something is technically “moral” if people are getting hurt?

SNAKE Primary is a lot like Badger, but instead of protecting the group, their highest law is the well-being of the individual people they love.

YOUR SECONDARY IS YOUR METHOD. IT’S HOW YOU DO THINGS.

LION Secondary gets their power from being direct, honest, completely themselves. Their “plan” is just keep going until someone stops them. If they see a locked door, they kick it in.

BIRD Secondary collects tools and skills. They build things, find things, learn things. If they see a locked door, they go through their box of keys until they find the right one.

BADGER Secondary is fair, hardworking, and shows up. They’re good at getting people to trust them, and good at getting people to help them. If they see a locked door, they knock.

SNAKE Secondary knows the right mask to wear for each situation. They’re adaptive. They go in the back way. They find the third option. They’re the ones who know how to pick the locks.

And now let’s talk about The Old Guard. Also, SPOILERS.

***

Nile Freeman is a bright Badger primary, defined by her groups. “I’ve got people who love me,” is the first thing she tells the team. And follows that up with, “I’m a Marine.” We meet her in uniform, part of a squad. Getting back to her family is her main motivation. (And it’s a “my family” thing - not a “my mom” or “my brother” thing.) Family continuity and family history mean everything to Nile, and that’s so Badger. Religion is also used as visual shorthand for “Badger” a lot, and Nile’s got her cross necklace. And she doesn’t want to kill people. Doesn’t matter if they’re the bad people who killed her, they’re still people. Badgers can’t ignore that.

Nile’s challenge is figuring out a way to separate from her family (and become an immortal commando) while still keeping her healthy, shining Badger intact. And she does it by expanding. It’s not just about protecting America and her family anymore. She looks at the wall outlining all the good the Old Guard has done, and her community expands to include them, and all of humanity.

She’s definitely got a Lion secondary. Yes, she’s willing to run into the villain’s stronghold with a bag of guns and not much plan - but this is an action movie, that stuff is kinda a given. I’m thinking more about when she has to lie and say her miraculous healing factor is an experimental skin graft – she hates doing it, she’s so bad at it, you can see her skin crawl. Nile is powerful when she is able to just lay out what she believes. People like Agent Copley and the Afghani women just feel the honesty and conviction bleeding off her, and come around to her way of thinking.

Nile also has a Bird secondary model. Smashing down walls isn’t appropriate all the time, so a lot of Lion secondaries learn to use one of the mellower secondaries as backup. Nile’s Bird is subtle, but it’s there. She applies her anti-militant training to the situation, and thinks they should “follow the money.” She can identify a Rodin sculpture across a dark cave. And she spends a while trying to reason away the fact that she’s immortal (considering hypnosis, drug trips, all that fun stuff.)

Andromache the Scythian aka “Andy” is also a Badger primary. But a very old, very tired, very burnt one. She’s been protecting humanity for about ten thousand years, and she feels all the people she wasn’t able to save. Andy starts off the film doubting whether any of it mattered, if she was actually able to protect her community at all. Because she can’t protect everyone, she is forced to shrink that community down. She can protect Nile, Joe, Nicky, and Booker – and that has to be enough.

The situation with Quyhn is a good look at the sort of darkness that can live inside a Badger Primary. Because Andy stopped looking. She could have spent hundreds of years pouring money and time into finding Quyhn - and neglected the rest of her team, and by extension humanity. But Andy’s a Badger primary. That’s not a thing she can do.

(A Snake primary would never have stopped. Someone like Nicky would burn the world, if that’s what it took to get Joe back.)

If your preferred weapon is an ax or a hammer, then you’re a Lion secondary. That’s just how it works. You are too direct and too smashy to be anything else. Ms. “I always go first” Andy, leader of the group she thinks of as an army? Even when she’s discouraged and exhausted, her Lion secondary is still so loud. She has a bit of a Bird secondary model: she sets up rules like “we don’t do repeats, it’s too risky,” and establishes code words linked to specific maneuvers. But you can tell she’s a little uncomfortable with that kind of thinking. She wants to hit things with an ax and give inspirational speeches. And also threaten people.

Which means that Andy and Nile match perfectly. They are both Badger Lions with Bird secondary models. And that makes perfect sense. Nile was “born” at the same time Andy lost her immortality. They are both warriors. Nile is the one who will “go first,” when Andy isn’t able to anymore. She’s the one who gets Andy’s ax at the end. She’s the new Andy. Andy’s redemption comes with waking her Badger primary up, and training a replacement. Or as she puts it, “I think you showed up when I lost my immortality so I could remember what it was like (…) that there are people still worth fighting for.”

Nicolò di Genova aka “Nicky” fights for Joe. It really is that simple. His backstory tells you everything you need to know: he fought in the Crusades until he fell in love with a Muslim, and had to choose. On one hand - religion, country, job, society, security. On the other hand - the man he loves. For Nicky the answer is obvious. Because he is such a Snake primary.

As long as he’s with Joe, he’s fine. Agent Copley is trying to explain himself, Nicky doesn’t care. “I’m sure you’re bringing us to the person who paid for your betrayal. There’s a TV [on this plane] Joe!” The villains can talk all they want about the greater good and moral imperatives and changing the world. Nicky is just bored. “A fine justification. I’ve heard it so many times before.” None of that stuff matters to him.

His secondary is harder to spot, underneath the really loud primary and the really loud Lion secondary model. But I think I see a Badger secondary. Nicky’s a caretaker. He brings Andy her favorite candy, sets up Nile for the night and shows her where to sleep. Joe says that Nicky’s heart “overflows with a kindness of which this world is not worthy,” and I get that they’re in love, but that’s still some serious character testimony. I’m also going to throw in the fact that Nicky’s a sniper. Being a sniper is not like hitting things with an ax. It’s all about getting in place and being careful and patient. Badger secondary traits.

Yusuf Al-Kaysani aka “Joe” actually takes the time to lay out rules he lives by. Which is interesting, because the only other people in this film who do that are the villains. Those guys are not motivated by personal loyalty: they’re either Lion or Bird primaries motivated by “the greater good.” The Old Guard is a very Loyalist movie. When we get our big Theme Scene, the French shopgirl tells us, “Today I put this on your wound. Tomorrow you help someone up when they fall. We’re not meant to be alone.” That’s the ethos of the movie. It’s very Badger.

Joe gets how Badger Primaries work. He gets Andy, and the best example of this is when he comforts her by saying Quyhn “would be insane” by now. He’s basically saying, “you don’t have a responsibility to her the way you have to the rest of us, because she’s not really a person anymore.” It’s dark, but so is Andy, and that line of reasoning would make sense to a Badger primary.

Joe also understands Nicky’s Snake primary. He knows he’s Nicky’s world, and he never stops demonstrating that. He has Nicky’s back when they fight (Nicky passes things over his shoulder without looking). He has Nicky’s back when they sleep (as the big spoon). He learned Italian for Nicky, and when Nicky is freaked, Joe just shows up with that “his kiss still thrills me, even after a millennia” speech. But that speech is also him explaining his worldview to the guards, the same way he bothers to tell them, “You shot Nicky. You shouldn’t have done that.”

When Nile asks, “Are you good guys or bad guys?” Joe responds, “Depends on the century.” He is interested in those large moral questions, and the answer he has decided on is a combination of Andy’s Badger morality, and Nicky’s Snake morality.

And to go with that really complicated Primary, I think Joe really is just a straightforward Lion secondary (another reason he gets Andy). I mean... he literally headbutts people.

Sebastian “Booker” Le Livre, whose nickname is a very silly pun, is the most vaguely drawn character. I’m not sure if he turns Nicky and Joe over to Merrick because he wants to die, or because he wants to find a way to help Andy die. Or both. But either way, he is a very burnt Snake primary.

Booker seems to be the only one who kept up contact with his family after learning he was immortal. As a result, he got to watch his son die painfully with “hate and despair in [his] eyes,” blaming his father for not loving him enough to save him. It’s been about 150 years, but Booker is not over this.

That is a very Snake primary love, and when it comes down to it, Booker is a Snake with no people he can throw himself into loving the way he loved his son. (No wonder he drinks). He wants more emotional intimacy from Andy than she is able to give him - not in a romantic way, they have more of a sibling dynamic. But look at the betrayal in his eyes when he learns she’s lost her immortality: “Andy, look at me. Why didn’t you tell me?”

This is the exchange right after Booker betrays the team:

JOE: You selfish piece of shit. NICKY: Joe, leave it, please… BOOKER: What would you know of the weight of all these years alone? JOE: You’re a very pathetic man Booker. NICKY: Joe, stop. BOOKER: You and Nicky always had each other, right?

Nicky is sympathetic. He’s a Snake primary like Booker, he knows what living without a Person must be like, he knows exactly why Booker did what he did. Joe doesn’t. He only sees how Booker has failed to look at the big picture (like Joe would have, because he’s a Bird, that’s how he thinks) and that he made an objectively dumb call. Joe is angry at him for the rest of the movie. But the others, who know what it’s like motivated only by personal loyalty… they kind of get it.

To round things off, Booker is a Bird secondary. You can tell by the way he collects skills. He’s the operation coordinator, the quartermaster, the driver, and the tech guy. He’s also not afraid of a plan with steps. Nile calls him, “the brains of the operation” (although she’s probably being nice). Still, Booker is a good example of the way Bird secondaries aren’t always smart. His plan was pretty objectively terrible, but that was because his primary was so compromised.

tl;dr

Nile – Badger/Lion (Bird model)

Andy – Burnt Badger/Lion (Bird model)

Nicky – Snake/Badger (Lion model for fighting)

Joe – Bird who has built Nicky’s Snake morality, and Andy’s Badger morality into himself/Lion

Booker – Burnt Snake/Bird

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ballerinaroy · 4 years

Text

no other way pt IV

pt I // pt II // pt III

“Come on,” Ginny urged. “It’s New Years, you deserve a night away.”

“That’s not going to work again,” Ron told her in a final tone. “You got me at Christmas, didn’t you?”

Ginny sighed, but didn’t point out that he’d only stayed an hour. Instead she looked pleadingly to Harry. At least he seemed to understand, not pushing and instead withdrew a bottle of champagne from within his bag. He raised an eyebrow at Ron.

“Alright,” Ron agreed, “But we’ll have to be quick.”

“You do remember your sister at her birthday, don’t you?” Harry teased and Ginny flushed, but didn’t try and correct him.

Ron let out a laugh, it felt good, even if Hermione wasn’t there to share it. Into salvaged tea cups three drinks were poured, the bottle hidden should they be interrupted and they cheersed one another.

“To the New Year,” Ron said. “May it be a better one than this.”

“To 2000!” Ginny said. “And to the muggle’s notion that the world is going to end.”

“To Hermione,” Harry finished, the thought on all their minds. They all looked over, and she remained as still as ever.

Most of her scaring he hadn’t been privy too, but now it was only her chest that was wrapped so tightly. Her right arm left to breathe. Not that it didn’t show the signs of her attack. But the scaring there was fading, white already in places. The kind of bravery badges she would live with. She had to live.

“To Hermione,” they echoed, clinking their tea cups together and drinking healthy portions of their drinks.

Drinks were refilled and the three settled down into their regular seats. Ron was grateful for the company, though he knew they wouldn’t stay all night. Not that he blamed them. They deserved to celebrate like normal twenty year olds.

“What did the Healer have to say?” Harry asked as though he wasn’t there every day.

“Nothing new,” Ron said, shaking his head. “They say that the skin graft on her abdomen isn’t taking as fast as they’d like, but she hasn’t rejected it. We’ll know more in a few days.”

“And her kidneys?” Ginny asked.

“Just had a bad day,” Ron said, glancing over at Hermione and taking her hand. “Nothing since.”

Weeks now spent waiting. Treatment after treatment with the healers to repair the damages. Potions, so many it made his head positively spin trying to keep track of them all. He knew when Hermione woke she would have question and he’d be damned if he didn’t know the answers to them.

“You two don’t have to stay,” Ron told them. “I’m sure you’ve got a dozen parties to get to.”

“Twenty six to be exact,” Harry said, sounding already exhausted at the prospect. “The balls on these people, I don’t even have twenty six friends.”

“That’s just because you’ve got good taste.” Ron said, puffing his chest. “Cream of the crop we are.”

Harry snorted as Ginny checked her watch.

“Are you sure we can’t keep you company?” Ginny asked. “Honestly, they’re just parties.”

“Go on, I’ll be fine,” Ron told them. “Just, leave the bottle, will you?”

“Just you and me,” Ron said, dragging his chair around so it faced Hermione. “You did tell me last year that the parties were pretty worthless and we could have more fun staying in. Didn’t think this was how you’d win that argument.”

Ron chuckled at his own joke, sitting down and propping up his feet.

“Though, after Ginny’s birthday I think we might have fulfilled our quota for disastrous nights for the year. Not to mention Dean’s.” Ron cringed at the memory. “My sister might actually have a problem around champagne.”

He glanced at Hermione and could picture her displeased look perfectly even as she opened her mouth to argue about the double standard of men getting plastered and no one saying a word.

“Ah, well, she’s Harry’s problem now, isn’t she?” Ron said and mused. “Their wedding is going to be a fun one. Who knows, maybe we can even convince you to get in on the excitement.”

Again he let out a little laugh, wishing he could witness her lips twitch as they always did when he was teasing her. When they didn’t, he sighed, settling back into his chair and taking another drink. It was a cruel joke. She was right here, right beside him. He could stare into her features as much as he liked and yet she wasn’t Hermione.

“Miss you,” he said before he could sensor himself. “Miss you so much, Hermione.”

It was one of those restless hospital nights that nothing could hold his attention.The wireless was too upbeat, and too often reminding him of what he was missing out on with their dedications of this one goes out to all the love birds or to all the sweethearts or congratulations to-

“We get it,” Ron mumbled, shutting the thing off. “Everyone is happy and in love.”

It wasn’t even the point of the holiday. It was supposed to be about fresh starts, new beginnings, wasn’t it?

He’d tried reading his novel, filling out paperwork but not even flipping through quidditch weekly could hold his attention. Still, he’d gotten lost enough in thought that when noises echoed from down the hall it took a moment to orient himself. Then the street echoed the cheers and he realized, with a twisting feeling that midnight had come.

He tried to compose his face though there was no one there to see it and stood up, smiling for Hermione.

“Happy New Year!” he said brightly and from down the hall, Auld Lang Syne echoed from a wireless. He bent down, pressing his lips to her forehead, wishing, for the thousandth time that he might find life in her eyes. “Happy New Year, Hermione.”

And then, incredibly, he felt her hand twitch in his. Ron glanced down at her fingers. Had it just been a figment of his imagination? A wish he’d been making for days?

“Hermione?”

She answered with the most beautiful sound he had ever heard, a long, low moan of pain.

“Hermione!” he said, unable to process what he was seeing. All those days and night spent waiting for this very moment and now that it was here- “Hold on, let me grab a healer.”

She grunted at him, and he rushed to the doorway, “Hello! Help! I need someone in here!”

He didn’t wait for a reply, rushing back to her bedside and taking her hand, squeezing it gently. “I’m here, I’m here Hermione.”

There was a flurry of moment as others rushed into the room but Ron refused to be displaced, holding her hand as tenderly as he could and watching, with amazement, as the body that had been still for months began to show life. Her eyes fluttering open and shut, her hands twitching, coughs echoing from her lungs.

The healers were saying all sorts of things, running spells all

Hermione’s eyes opened and she scanned the room worriedly until, at last, they landed on him. Her lips twitched upward as her mouth sounded his name. Ron.

“I’m here,” he told her, his voice cracking with relief and he pushed past the person separating them, stroking her cheek with his thumb. “I’m here, Hermione.”

Her eyes darted around again, and he could see the question in her eyes.

“There was an accident, at work. You’ve been out of it, God Hermione it’s been a minute but it’s okay, I’m here.”

The hand that he’d refused to let go of twitched in his, a squeeze and he laughed again. “Oh, Hermione. I love you.”

She closed her eyes, tears squeezing out the sides and he pressed his forehead to hers, his own tears of relief mixing with hers. He had never felt joy as he did in that moment.

“I love you,” he whispered again, “I love you.”

Send me a prompt!

#roywrites #ROMIONE #romione fanfic

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dkiddsposts · 3 years

Text

Life Narrative

This is how a body dies: the body first conserves the heart, lungs and brain so it starts to spare the things that aren’t important. The first is the blood to your hands and feet and other extremities. Then the kidneys shut down. You lose your appetite and your blood pressure drops. Your heart rate increases and the body temperatures drop.

I didn’t understand how close I was to death until I learned this. The surgeons said I had about twelve more hours before I lost my leg completely or lost my life.

In middle April of 2021 I woke up on a Monday morning at 5:25AM for weight training. It’s normal, as a collegiate swimmer, for my body to hurt. For my muscles to feel strained, pulled and fatigued. So when I moved my right leg and felt a pain almost like a pulled groin I didn’t think much of it. I skipped out on anything during weights that might irritate or strain it more and thought nothing less.

Tuesday morning I went to work. My back always hurts after standing for a long time. I have a habit of choosing fashion over comfort and instead of wearing the shoes I specifically bought to stand on for eight hours I went for my Air Forces that morning. About three hours of making coffee later I could barely stand. My leg hurt every time I took a step and my back felt like it was killing me. After four hours of making coffee I passed out and had a friend pick me up from work.

I’ve always been a healthy person. I’ve been swimming for eleven years and am always raved over by doctors because of my low resting heart rate and rarely ever getting sick. My mental health was a different story; I’ve been seeing psychologists and psychoanalysts since I was seven years old. My freshman year had not been easy on me and to cope I turned to bad and old habits. I was ultimately very unhappy with my life and what was supposed to be a year of growth. To add a serious illness felt like the last straw but I chalked it up to a bad groin strain and stress sickness.

By Thursday I called my mom. I couldn’t keep any food down, was seriously dehydrated, had to switch between getting in a scalding hot shower and sitting face first in front of a fan because my body temperature was fluctuating so much and I could barely walk without crying. She picked me up and took me to urgent care where they could tell there was some type of infection in my groin but didn’t have the technology to tell what. Next stop was the ER where they gave me antibiotics and told me it was cellulitis, an infection of the skin.

Feeling a little better because of the mild pain killer I slept for about two hours before waking up freezing cold. I hopped in the shower to warm up and immediately threw up. At this point I couldn’t keep even water down which meant I for sure couldn’t keep antibiotics down. My groin had swollen to the size of a baseball and I thought this is what dying must feel like.

We went back to the emergency room the next morning and they admitted me just to monitor and give me IV antibiotics. The next week is a haze but I could feel it getting worse. I was on enough pain meds to supply a pharmacy just to get through a couple hours of sleep. I remember how they weighed me at some point and I had gained thirty pounds because my kidneys were failing and I wasn’t releasing any of the liquid in the three IV drips I was constantly connected to. I remember them doing an ultra sound on my now softball sized and blistered groin and how my sister had to leave the room to throw up because I couldn’t control the sounds I was making from the pain of a plastic tool being pushed into my leg. I remember my dad telling me that the best dream he ever had was under anesthesia about fly fishing and he hoped I had a dream that made me happy right before they took me into surgery.

The plan was to make three small incisions in my swollen leg to see what was wrong but they ended up taking a plate sized chunk of tissue out of my leg all the way down to the muscle. What they found was necrotizing fasciitis commonly known as flesh eating bacteria. I was lucky because twelve more hours and I would have been flown to Denver if the infection was in my muscle or blood stream. I narrowly avoided a life without a right leg or possibly death.

I spent another week in the hospital before they sent me home. Three weeks later and I had a skin graft done. Five weeks after that, I was cleared for all physical activity. The recovery was fairly easy and I’m blessed with what was the best case scenario. But I wanted to get back as soon as I could to the life I had been living.

You’d think that you would be scared of death and change your life after being so close to dying but in my head I was immortal and nothing could touch me. I went back to drinking too much and choosing unhealthy coping mechanisms. They say it takes six to nine months to work through trauma at the minimum but I’ve barely started scratching the surface.

This story doesn’t really have an ending. Physically I’m healthy and back to normal but I’m faced with a decision I have to make. Do I start focusing on what’s important and turn my life around and take this as a fresh start or do I continue what I’ve always done with my life? This seems like an easy decision but you’d be surprised how hard it is for me to take action and take care of myself. My sister once told me how scary it was that I almost died and still had no regard for taking care of my health or well being.

I have no plan of action. I’m stuck in purgatory between two decisions not really doing anything for or against myself. For now, purgatory is better than hell.

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pettrichore · 4 years

Text

dunno if i’ll be able to finish this. but so like dabihawks au where like. dabi does his research aka when he was touya he was with his dad once during the whole takami thief thing and met keigo. flash forward he doesnt believe a thing about this hero hawks. sees him for the fabricated person he has become. and eventually hawks sees dabi for who he really is and was and like vigilante-ish dabihawks. bits about the au and the snippet i wrote under the cut.

cause this shit gets LONG af

hawks feels fake. doesnt rlly know who he has even become

the commission kinda forced a lotta habits out of him and completely molded him into who they want him to be

he barely even finds his name to be anything more than a stranger’s name at this point.

anyway so dabi p much knows who he is. does his own digging. and kinda puts some pieces together and sees how fake hawks is

hawks barely even knows if he shows any genuine emotions at this point. he’s kinda at a breaking point where he cant recognize himself and separate keigo from hawks. feeling like hawks has just swallowed him whole

he does show genuine things though. sometimes says or does shit out of line but he tends to have obedience beat into him even if he sometimes has a bit of a mouth on him. it’s mild tho

at the start of dabi working w hawks, hawks was very careful

it kinda progressed into keigo coming out more around dabi even though it was in bits and pieces

anyway dabi puts two and two together and realizes him and hawks are pretty similar and instead of seeing him as a traitor (though he’s sure that he’s not 100% on their side) he sees him as someone who can fit in with the misfits and he can p much fully convince hawks to ditch the bs

so the confrontation happens (see ending snippet) and hawks is like wtf just happened

and p much eventually there’s some tender moments between dabi and hawks and hawks ends up explaining how used he’s felt

he has been molded into the perfect obedient soldier; maybe sorta kinda explains that the commission is having him do double agent duties and instead of reacting badly dabi is p receptive and doesnt just try to kill him. instead he can see how badly hawks wants to break out of his cage and fly free and he deeply feels for that and knows how that can feel and is like aight well fuck them

so hawks kinda double agents on the commission??

and he does end up meeting the LoV and like sees how human they are

but also he’s like damn son but okay i dont agree w everything

and dabi is like yeahhh same ??? idk they are a means to an ends for me but also not lmao

and then there’s some dabi spilling his guts as they get closer and get more intimate and very much boyfriends

and hawks is so livid and he cant help but fuck around with endeavor the next time he sees him. and like he’s just so much more distant to him. he can’t begin to wrap his head around it. and he’s so broken that like.. the one person that he saw as his true hero. that “saved him” is a horrible person behind closed doors

the one person who he was inspired by and agreed to join the commission’s forces for is just horrible

there’s just a lotta solidarity between hawks and dabi and a lotta shared anger and hurt

and they’re boyfriends and it’s great but also like hawks isn’t a horrible person

neither is dabi ??? i mean listen they’ve both killed ppl. they probs will continue to kinda do it. but it’s always just horrible ppl

like listen killing ?? not great folks??? but also like idk man..

they also def leave kids outta this 10000%

anyway p much they end up ditching the LoV too. try to get some of them outta that shit. like toga who has become like a sorta lil sister for dabi in a way

they both just feel so horrible and gross seeing kids get into that shit

also like the girl needs some HELP. some therapy and rehabilitation idk

idk i love the morality shit with the LoV but might not play with it too much here

anyway they end up doing their own thing and the commission is quick to denounce him and just ruin his image

and try to kill him lmao they made him a perfect hero which could be a perfect villain and if he isn’t working for them he’s working against them (i mean he is) and needs to be Stopped Permanently

anyway here’s the snippet. my single brain cell that helped write this has left my body:

At this point, Hawks wasn’t so sure he was even real. His existence felt fabricated. Each smile or joke carefully placed. Each movement was calculated. He didn’t act out of line. His interviews were carefully thought out months in advance if not lies that he himself began to believe after years of telling them. His penthouse had just enough “personal” touches that when he had a spare moment to invite someone over it actually seemed like it could be a home. Hawks’ original motivations were squashed and were pushed aside unless they created an interesting story. His natural mannerisms that came with his mutation quirk were learned to be suppressed. Hell his own name sounded like a stranger’s to his ears. That is if anyone even knew it.

“Is there anything real about you, hero,” Dabi spoke. His back wasn’t fully to Hawks, left side presented to him as he set a framed graduation photo down and fully faced the winged hero. Dabi stuffed his hands in his pockets and tilted his head to the side some, waiting for an answer. Hawks snorted and gave him an unamused look.

“I’m as real as they get, hot stuff.” He kept a casual air about his words, hands spreading out in surrender. “Not sure what else you expect.”

Hawks was on edge, but he wouldn’t let the villain know it. They were supposed to be meeting soon, but once again the villain pulled something unexpected and had been waiting for Hawks in his own apartment. Hawks’ feathers twitched slightly, sharpened edges ready for the command if it came. Dabi leveled him with an unimpressed stare. There was a moment where their gazes met in an intense battle, though Dabi’s look softened as he broke out in a lazy grin.

“Y’know... You might be just as much of a mystery as I am, Pretty Bird.”

“I think I’m a pretty open book myself.”

“I think you like to let people think that.”

“And I think you’re just trying to fuck with me. Can we just get to what you came here for? I had a looong day and kinda wanna get some food and some sleep.” Hawks punctuated his words by stretching his arms up high before shedding off his coat, goggles, and headphones. He tossed the coat over the back of his couch and dropped the gear onto the end table. He hoped Dabi would just drop this whole line of thought, take this as some sort of submission, and be satisfied enough to leave.

Wrong.

“Oh, we can get to that later… You, on the other hand, are much more interesting.” He moved closer, hands coming out of his pockets as he crossed the room to stand a few feet from Hawks.

“I’d love to be a great host and entertain you, but unfortunately I wasn’t expecting any guests today.” Hawks crossed his arms and watched Dabi carefully, eyes narrowing some in challenge.

“That’s too bad. You know, I’ve been doing some research on you. I don’t quite think you are who you say you are, Hawks.” The winged-hero tensed just ever so slightly before forcing his muscles to relax some. He didn’t like the way things were going. While Dabi’s fire was his ultimate weakness, he’s sure that he’s fast enough to put a sharpened feather to his throat and end this all here and now than Dabi would be if he wanted to put the spy to an end.

“And who do you think I am then, Dabi?” He raised an unruly eyebrow. His primaries ached to shoot out and end this, poised at the ready.

Dabi blinked slowly, bright turquoise eyes disappearing for a moment before shining under heavily lidded eyes. His grin stretched a bit wider, tugging on where healthy skin met the grafts.

“I think you aren’t the hero you put out there… Or the person you say you are. You like to say a lotta nothin’ don’t you?” Dabi stepped closer and Hawks’ fingers twitched but his arms remained crossed.

“I think you like to pretend to be this airhead bird. Like to use that name. Like to look like you’re the perfect little hero... You’re good at it, too. You aren’t though, are you… Takami Keigo.”

Hawks had a primary feather in each hand, on pressed to Dabi’s throat. It pressed in just enough to draw some blood from the marred skin grafts. He could feel the heat radiating from Dabi’s skin and particularly from the small flames in each of his palms, but the villain made no move to use it against him. He just continued to grin.

“What’s the look of surprise there, Birdie?” Dabi purred.

“How do you know that name?” He demanded, crowding further into Dabi’s space.

“Like I said, I did my research. Now unless you want to end up on the crispy side of cooked, I’d ease the fuck up,” Dabi’s voice took on a slight bite towards the end and his grin lessened. “And here I was going to tell you that you can meet the boss finally. Thought you might be real League material.”

Hawks instincts and mind screamed to press the sharp feather further or at least hold his position, demand answers. His judgment told him to ease off and soften the feathers once more. Hawks didn’t move too far from Dabi, though the primary feathers in his hands softened and returned to his wings. The heat radiating off Dabi died down along with the flames in his hands. Steam left his skin as he killed the flames.

“Much better… We don’t want any incidents like that when you get to meet the boss, right? You’re lucky I’m a lot more patient.” Hawks wasn’t sure what this was all about but didn’t argue with him on that point.

“Glad to see your fake little hero persona is starting to crack.”

#long post #dabihawks #dabi #hawks #todoroki touya #takami keigo #dabi is a todoroki #dabi is touya #my writing #speaks #bnha au #bnha #boku no hero academia #mha #my hero academia

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d00medships · 4 years

Text

i know in my bio it says i’ll never get around to writing fics, and yet here i am, posting a fic that i wrote.

here’s to me being a liar and a fraud (cross-posted on ao3).

33 year-old Keigo is pretty sure 23 year-old Keigo couldn’t have predicted this.

In fact, Keigo is almost positive his 23 year-old self would have imagined his life ended right then and there, with the brunt of Dabi’s metal boots pressed onto his head -- suffocating Keigo entirely as the heat of the villain’s quirk threatened to burn beyond bone from above the hero’s head.

Cornered and down for the count, it made sense why Keigo thought his destiny to die young was manifesting in that moment. With the world closing in on him and his mission seemingly complete, Keigo may not have been ready to go just yet, but he understood if it was his time.

Mission accomplished, at any cost.

Years later, Keigo now thinks his past self was a bit melodramatic.

“Why are your feet so damn big?!”

Touya turns his turquoise gaze away from the Doc Martens he had been eyeing, cool confusion written upon his face. If Keigo were a lesser man, he’d stop to admire how handsome his husband had become in recent years -- the skin grafts had taken well, and however disjointed and discolored they still may be, no one could deny Touya looked much better with healthy skin as opposed to...well, the opposite -- but alas, Keigo had already fallen for this man too many times since their first meeting. This time would not be one of them.

“Do you understand how hard it is to find shoes for you? You’re like, a fucking giant, I swear.”

Touya chuckles, a low sound that still somehow reverberates in Keigo’s heart everytime he hears it. Once it used to only elicit fear, something that could immediately put Keigo on the offensive, but nowadays --

“Well, you know what they say about big feet,” Touya offers, his attention now back on the prized pair of Doc Martens. He turns the shoe over and eyes the number on the sole, only to click his tongue in annoyance a second later. Keigo catches a glimpse of a size -- 30cm. Jesus Christ, this man was a fucking cryptid.

Setting the shoes back down, Touya scans the store for an attendant, but it seems like he and Keigo have the store to themselves. Despite the annoyed look on his face, Keigo knows that Touya isn’t exactly surprised. Even with his skin grafts and dye-free hair, his scars still remained. Anyone with a sharp eye could put together that Touya probably didn’t have the cleanest of slates. In fact, the only saving reason why his technical ‘witness protection’ still worked is the fact that Keigo was the one who actually took his father down (in court, mind you), and to the public, Dabi was dead and buried after coming out on the losing side from a fierce three-way battle between himself, Endeavor, and Hawks.

Dabi being dead also meant Todoroki Touya stayed dead, too. Though he originally was a bit annoyed at what the implications were for his reputation and his once-master plan (to this day, Touya swears he didn’t lose that fight -- he was just that good of an actor), even Touya had to concede that Takami Touya -- average citizen, aspiring children’s social worker, randomly close confidante of the Todoroki family, and husband to No. 219 hero Hawks -- sounded better anyways.

“I don’t even know why we bothered with the mall. You’re just gonna fixate on the same damn shoe you already have at home, then get mad when they don’t have a size that’ll fit your big-ass feet,” Keigo grumbled, “meaning that we’ll have to head back with nothing and order your boots online like everyone else does in the first place.”

“I...,” Touya pauses, as his bored gaze landing on another pair of near-identical Doc Martens, “don’t like your tone.”

Keigo smirked. Touya’s lack of rebuttal was the sign of a win in this battle.

With one last, fruitless glance at the cascading racks of black boots, Touya turns away from the sight with a huff and a roll of his eyes to level Keigo with a look. It’s not The Look™, which usually means Keigo is about to get his ass handed to him (which in a post-Touya-gets-anger-management era has either in a sexy or very much not-so-sexy context, like when Keigo blue-shelled Touya during Mario Kart), but instead one that spoke to Touya’s waning patience for this specific brand of BS.

“Well since this is pointless apparently,” Touya’s voice trails off before coming back at a ten-fold vengance, having noticed a wayward shop attendant behind Keigo who is clearly startled at having been caught hiding from the pair, “and nobody seems to be here to fucking help us,” -- Keigo groans as the shop attendant runs back into hiding; subtlety will never be this man’s strong suit -- “we should at least grab some crepes before heading out.”

“Oh, and you’re paying?”

Truth be told, Keigo actually doesn’t care if he has to pay or not. The sugar daddy aspect of their relationship never really bothered Keigo, nor did it bother Touya even after he managed to get a part-time job (in fact, Touya’s only response to the one-time Natsuo brought it up was, “eat the rich,” and BOY, if that wasn’t a double entendre). At that same dinner, Fuyumi said something about his love language being something like ‘gift giving’, which lead Rumi co-signing Fuyumi by unhelpfully offering up the fact that Keigo has his Venus in Taurus despite his seemingly cold-stone Capricorn heart (whatever that means, Keigo just had to take their word for it), but all he knows is that he likes/loves/needs Touya happy.

“Duh, birdie. What else am I going to spend this money on?” Touya asks. He holds out his hand -- still scarred, still callused, a weary yet strong reminder of what they’ve been through and how far they’ve come -- for Keigo to take.

And as always, Keigo takes Touya’s outstretched hand without hesitation. For them, this is the softest they’ll ever be in public, but it’s enough.

“Well in that case, I want two crepes...with extra fillings,” Keigo chirps, his brisk pace somehow equally matched to Touya’s lazy gait. Fastest hero living notwithstanding, Keigo still cursed his short legs.

“Oh, fuck you,” Touya laughs as he looks at Keigo fondly, and oh, isn’t his laugh a glorious thing. It’s lighter, and less rough around the edges. It’s happy, and at the end of the day, it makes Keigo feel like he’s doing something right.

Hand in hand, the two men walk out of the store and blend into the crowds of the mall. Now one with the masses, it’s hard to imagine either of them as anything more than ordinary, and certainly not once on the brink of tragedy on both sides.

33 year-old Keigo likes this new normal. Even if he could have never predicted it, he’s sure it’s a future that 23 year-old Keigo would have hoped for.

#a birthday present to me #dabihawks #toukei #hotwings #dabi and hawks doing mundane things in the future as a couple is my kink #dabihawks week 2020 #dabi #hawks #todoroki touya #bnha #takami keigo #also YES i have theories on each of their charts #let's just say dabi screams aries moon and venus in scorpio

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heartxofxaxvillain · 4 years

Note

Give me fake your death for Dabi and hurt my feELINGS BBY

OKAY OKAYE

It’s not good at all, but I’ll get better the more I try (I hope??) aaaaa i hope its okay! There’s probably a BUNCH of errors, but et ees what et ees ig,,,

It had been years since that last time you saw him.

Dabi, a mysterious and gruesome villain, best known for the trail of charred victims he’d leave in his wake.

How the two of you met was a bit cliché in your opinion.

It was a rainy night, and you were walking home, deciding to take a smoke at the end of a dark alley, dimly lit by nearby neon signs from active clubs and bars from across the street.

I choose defeat...

It wasn’t preferable to be there at this hour, after all, your home was just on the outside of the worst part of town, but that’s just how it seemed to play out.

You quickly jogged into the alley, your thin jacket draped over your head and shoulders to try and stay dry, you weren’t intending on staying at work that late so your didn’t think you’d be caught in the rain.

You sighed quietly as you stopped to lean against the alley wall, moving to hold up your jacket in your hand to reach into the right pocket to pull out a lighter as well as a pack of cigarettes, frowning to see you only had on left.

Rolling your eyes, you place the last cigarette in your mouth, lighting your lighter and holding your other hand around the flame so it won’t go out with the harsh wind.

That’s when you heard it, a quiet, but noticeable shuffling coming from inside a nearby dumpster a yard or two back.

It grabbed your attention for a second, but you didn’t bother turning around to face it, raccoons and other animals weren’t uncommon, after all. After a second though, while the shuffling persisted, something with it seemed off. You decide to focus on it a bit more, and you almost regret doing so, because that’s when you noticed the heavy breathing and panting along with it.

Before you had time to register that though, a much louder, pained groan escaped from the dumpster, making you jump and snap around to look towards the source.

You were frozen, your mind buzzing with thousands of thoughts, was this a trick? A setup for a kidnapping?

‘No...I know what pain sounds like...that had to be genuine...”

You may have been a fool for doing so, but you took a slow step towards it anyway, not realizing you had dropped that last cigarette in a nearby puddle, either.

As you made your way to the dumpster, you couldn’t help but notice a very strong, disgusting stench, but with a hint of a metallic scent. There was definitely blood, and a lot of it. If it weren’t for someone possibly about to die in the dumpster before you, you would have sighed in relief, maybe you weren’t going to get kidnapped. Maybe.

Then there was another groan, and you nearly jumped out of your skin.

Taking a deep breath, you very hesitantly opened the lid to the dumpster where the groan was coming from, and inside you saw the silhouette of a tall, dark haired man with an enormous tear on his side, blood pooling in the light-colored shirt under a leather trench coat that was laying under him.

I walk away...

You stared for a second, you were used to seeing wounds like this, but the strong, disgusting smell was making it much more unbearable then ever before, but you figured out what that smell was when the man opened his eyes.

A neon turquoise, glowing bright enough to illuminate quite a bit of his face. Your jaw fell with a gasp and you let go of the lid of the dumpster out of fear.

This wasn’t some guy, this was a criminal- no, villain. A well known villain, identified by his blue flames and thousands of scorched enemies.

You were definitely going to get kidnapped.

And leave this place...

“Nn...fuckin rude..” he spoke from the dumpster.

You jumped a bit, not thinking you’d hear him speak at all.

You stood there, thinking about how you should walk away, run away even, get law enforcement to take him, maybe even look for a hero.

Though, something in the back of your mind was telling you to help him, that you should.

“NO. No, no, no! I am NOT going to help a villain! I am a good man! That’s not what good people do! That’s..”

“Gnnh..you’ve got a pretty me...messed up view on good then...” he interrupted, his words quickly followed up by loud, raspy coughing.

He was right though, you always wanted to save people, and just because he was a villain doesn’t mean he deserved to sit in die in such a horribly painful way. Probably.

The same today...

After a few more seconds, you swung open the dumpster lid to the side where you could see his face.

“L-Listen...If I help you...you have to promise not to kill or hurt me! I know your probably could give a shit less about a life like mine, b-but...”

“Holy fucking shit, you’re actually still here.” He said, sounding genuinely surprised.

Some like to sleep...

“W-Well...I cant just leave someone hurt...” you replied, quietly.

“Ghah...still, I’m a person who could kill you in less then a second if I so pleased...but I guess you’re lucky I’m too fucked up to kill anything right now heh—“ he tried to end his words with a laugh, but let out a very loud, pained groan, writhing a bit along with it.

That’s how is started, you ended up taking this villain to your apartment. Nowhere else was safe for him, if you had chose a hotel, they would have called the cops. You still cursed at yourself for bringing him there, though.

You laid him on the living room couch, cutting his shirt off of him so you could see what was happening. You quickly found the source, a badly torn skin graft, one of many on his body. Now is a time you’re kinda glad you took a few years in medical school.

“HGGN— fuck!” He cursed as you tried to clean up the tear.

We like to play...

“Shhh! Shut up! Someone’s gonna hear you screaming and call the cops!” You quietly yelled at him, the fear of getting caught helping a criminal with his wounds showing through your tone.

“Then just sew it back up and be done with it! None of that extra ‘cleaning’ bullshit, it doesn’t even do jack shit!”

“Well I think you’d prefer it to not get infected!”

“I could care a whole-fuckin-lot less about it getting infected. Never concerned me before!”

Your face twisted in disgust, you couldn’t imagine someone leaving so many wounds untreated, villain or not.

Just look at all that pain...

After a bit more grunts and curses, you stitched that part of the skin graft back together with his healthy skin, to which he scoffed, complaining about how ‘it fucks with the style he’s going for.’

You didn’t respond, just glaring and quickly getting up to walk into the kitchen to dispose of your gloves and wash your hands.

After some silence he spoke up,

“Hey..I just realized, I don’t know your name,”

“And I’m not going to tell you it.” You quickly replied.

“Rude...can’t I know the name of the man who took a stupid amount of time to put back together” he laughed.

“Why do you care so much? You’re just going to try to kill me or something, anyways...”

“Nahh, I want to know cuz a owe you. You kinda did a huge favor for me with all this, even if you took an annoyingly long with it all.”

You scoffed at that, villains don’t owe shit to people like you.

While you aren’t a hero, you’re also definitely not the type of guy to want to be associated with villains.

You want the heart...

With no response, he spoke again,

“I’m serious, dude. I’m not gonna hurt you, in fact, if you tell me your name I’ll make a promise to never kill you or some shit.” He sounded slightly annoyed, which weirded you out a bit.

“As if I’m falling for that. And don’t try with any of that ‘I’ll tell you my name if you tell me yours’ bullshit either, I already know your name.” You retorted.

Dabi gave an aggravated sigh, and started shuffling to get up, to which you sped over to get him to sit down again at a safe distance.

“Sit back down, you dumbass, it gonna tear again!” You insisted.

“Well if I don’t even get to know the guy who helped me then there’s no point in just sitting around and healing here or whatever. I’ll manage.” He hissed.

You actually started to feel bad, but you weren’t sure why. Was he really serious about owing you something? What did he even owe you?

“M-my name is Y/N!”

You clamped you hands over your mouth after blurting your name, Dabi stopping in the middle of opening the door, turning slowly back towards you.

Or to be saved...

You too a step back out of fear, but he just seemed to look surprised.

“What?” He raised a brow, seemingly trying to make sure he heard you.

“My name..is Y/N” you continued. You already said it might as well clarify, but your voice shook a little out of fear, and the two of you stood in silence for a second while Dabi looked as if he was contemplating something.

He then let out a long, almost relieved sounding sigh as he walked back over, sliding off his jacket and throwing it over a nearby chair as he eased himself back on the couch.

“Thank FUCK, this shit hurts like hell, and with me that’s saying something.” He hummed.

But even good guys still get paid...

The next three months were all very, very unusual.

The first one was hard, you were wary of him, but after about two weeks he started trying to help around your apartment while you were at work.

You were very very confused, as he’d try to do the dishes, take out the trash and clean the bathroom.

No matter how much you complained about him getting up, Dabi moved as he pleased anyways. During that time, you thought maybe this is what his idea of “paying back what he owed you” meant.

After the third week, you gave up trying to tell him not to stand up, he didn’t listen anyway.

Then when month two came, he was gone every other day or so for the first week and a half. It really frightened you and made you extremely paranoid, even worse then the first month he was around.

You confronted Dabi, clearly upset at the more then likely possibility of him coming back from villainous crimes. You didn’t want to be tracked down and arrested because of this, but confronting him and expressing your distrust apparently upset him, he ended up melting the apartment’s doorknob as he stormed out.

So watch my back...

You thought he was gone for good, till about 5 days later.

He was back, and slightly tore the stitching of the wound, so he asked you to redo it.

At least he came back with a new, nearly identical doorknob to the original.

Was the tear an excuse for him to come back? It wasn’t even bleeding.

The rest of the month he barely left your apartment at all. He’d always be home when you got back from work, helping as much as he could, actually trying to make small talk, and sometimes even leaving small gifts for you in random places.

You started to realize that this big, horrifying man was a lot like some strange, stray cat you managed to get close to and now it won’t leave you alone.

You didn’t seem to mind Dabi being around, though. He more often then not would help you with chores, and his presence was actually somewhat pleasant.

Around the start of the third month, though, things got odd. He got weirdly affectionate, leaning his forehead on the back of your neck while you cooked in the kitchen, sitting oddly close to you no matter where you sat.

And keep the blade...

Dabi even got you to agree to let him sleep in the same bed.

You didn’t hate it though, and that’s what was bothering you though.

‘Is this some strange ploy? Is he using me for my money or something?’

You’d always ask yourself thing like this, but they never did add up.

Money never left your bank account, and he rarely ever took food out of your fridge unless you asked him to make dinner.

It wasn’t till about two more weeks of the increasing affection that you realized what it was.

“Y/N, would you ever consider loving a villain?” Dabi asked.

I think it got you laid...

It was a Sunday night. You were both watching the television on the right side of the couch, his arm pressed up against yours as he leaned up against you.

“Huh...? I..I don’t know...” you suddenly weren’t hungry for the popcorn in the bowl in front of you anymore.

Dabi sat up a bit, leaning forward to turn and look at you.

You couldn’t read his expression at all, but there was some sort of a look of anticipation.

“What do you mean you don’t know. It’s a yes or no question, Y/N.”

“I...I’m just not sure...” you averted your eyes, trying to focus on the TV again.

“Don’t avoid my fucking question, Y/N. You know what you would and wouldn’t do, so answer me!”

“Dabi, please—!”

Dabi grabbed you by the collar of your pajama shirt, pulling your face up to his own.

You then remembered exactly what you had been dealing the past three or so months.

This wasn’t a roommate, this wasn’t a friend or a lover.

This man is a bloodthirsty criminal, powerful and aggressive, and meant to be feared.

Your face went white and you must have shown the sudden realization, because Dabi let go of your shirt, the imprints he left smoking a bit.

He didn’t say a word, looking to your shirt where he started to burn it and then back to you.

He got up and walked out of your apartment while you said nothing. Dabi was gone.

It was lonely without him, no matter how much you tried to push him out of your mind.

Why was this man...this villain so stuck in your head?

You didn’t get it.

So fake your death...

Six months later, your watching the news. You took the week off of work and you’ve been sitting at home watching TV the whole time.

An emergency broadcast takes the screen, a hostage situation from a building on the same road home from work. A familiar face is shown, a tall man with dark hair and purple skin grafts all over his body stands at the top of a large building on fire.

You practically lunge at the remote on the coffee table, turning up the volume to hear everything perfectly as your entire focus is now on the the screen.

Dabi watches everyone around the building scream, police cars pulling up as they wait for a hero to arrive to the scene.

He seems confident, standing tall while unresponsive to any requests from the police below him.

Or it's your blame...

That is, until the building begins to crumble unexpectedly. Dabi loses his balance and falls backwards as the building caves in on itself.

You watch in horror as he seemingly panics, using his quirk wildly and burning everything around him, but accidentally engulfing himself within a ball of bright blue fire.

Somehow, the fire is out in less then an hour. All that’s left on the scene is ash and rubble, and Dabi is proposed dead, a victim to his own quirk.

And leave the lights on when you stay...

That’s it. A man who was in your life for only less then a fraction of it, a man who you managed to care so much about is suddenly just gone.

But he was a villain...

Why the hell do you feel so bad...

You end up constantly thinking about Dabi, even now, as you leave your new apartment in the town he was presumed dead.

Even now, as you call for a taxi to take you to the nearby mall to get some food.

‘Would it really have been that bad to admit to falling in love with a villain...?’

You ask yourself this a lot, trying to think if it would have been fine, or if you could have maybe even convince this villain, this man who you barely even knew if he could have stopped his evil ways.

Take off your clothes...

Maybe that was too selfish though. Though, you’re being selfish anyways.

While you’re stuck on the man, the villain, who killed so many people and how you could have possibly loved him, nobody else would bat an eye at his death nowadays.

You walked through the mall quietly, your mind clouded and busy with your lingering thoughts from over the years.

You walk over to your favorite tea stare, stepping in line and waiting to order. You can’t stop thinking about the fact that you managed to care so much about him when you only knew so little about him as well. Did he actually care for you like that?

“Sir...?”

You jump a bit, you hadn’t even realized that it was your turn to order.

“O-oh Sorry...uh, one large matcha boba please.” you mumble as you place the right amount of change on the counter and step aside.

You wait beside the front counter next to this tall man with red hair and a face mask as well as some girl with her friend who seem to be gossiping about some app.

You lose yourself in your thoughts again, but notice the barista getting a green drink ready and realize it’s probably yours.

“One large matcha boba!” She announces

“Oh that’s m..”

“That’s me—“

And dream that fame...

You and the red haired man look at each other instantly, both of your voices a bit too familiar for comfort.

And the moment that mans bright, turquoise eyes land on you, you know exactly who you have been standing next to.

How did you not notice.

“Y/N?” He asks, brows furrowed as if he’s trying to see if it’s really you.

You hesitate for a second, but quickly go to hug him.

“You asshole...I know we didn’t know eachother too well, but you can’t just love a guy and then leave to fake your death...” you mumble into his chest, quietly.

He laughs “it’s not like it’s the first time I’ve done that.”

Come on and feel that shame.

#dabi x reader #bnha x reader #dabi x y/n #dabi x you #mha x reader #mha x y/n #bnha x y/n #yandere dabi #?#kinda #GWritesStuff

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