#these 3 have struggled with finding their own identity; they tend to get left behind both in-universe and in general plotwise

[somnimagus]

My page for @kairizine. It was such a huge honor to be part of this wonderful book with everyone, I had so much fun!

[id in alt!]

#kingdom hearts #kh #kh kairi #kh xion #kh namine #i don't really feel proud of my own stuff usually but #i really think this is the drawing i'm most proud of from this past year!! it made me think 'oh maybe i can draw' haha #i'm still kinda bad with colors but something clicked with this one. and i feel like i got the sentimental feeling i wanted! #ooh but this project's about flower symbolism so ramble incoming: #protea symbolizes resilience transformation and diversity; hollyhock means 'please remember me.' #so my general theme was finding a sense of self. #these 3 have struggled with finding their own identity; they tend to get left behind both in-universe and in general plotwise #and naminé and xion both resemble kairi and were overshadowed by her memory. but i feel like all 3 have transformed into their own people #xion and naminé have their faces covered partially by hollyhock to show their wish to be remembered for who they are- #instead of the parts that they share with someone else #and the protea bouquets show how they each held on and resiliently grew into their own person despite it all #i put a little swervy path on the hill behind kairi to give that hopeful sense of growth and moving forward. it's a little hard to see #hopefully that makes sense! i really love symbolism but i think in visuals so i'm really bad with words #but gosh working with everyone on this project was so fun. it was like impossible not to get swept up by the team's hype for this zine #i need to hunt down everybody's work and rb it #ohh and everybody's flowers are so crisply drawn it's insane!! i think if i lined all these flowers and leaves i'd die haha #fan art #my art #project stuff

[indigosunsetao3]

Would It Be Enough?

Masterlist

Task Force 141 stepped in to help a hospital extraction as the closest operational unit, the American's off on another mission. Their main objective was to secure a valuable American asset and evacuate any civilian contractors they could. Not many made it but one tenacious woman did, mostly by a sliver of luck and the unit's elite skills.

Unsure of where her contract work lies now, she's trying to navigate everything she saw and figure out her next steps. She really needed the job to help keep her family afloat but with everything in limbo, and the fact she could barely mentally handle it, was she just going to get sent back home? Not if Laswell and Price have their way.

The 141 is in need of a medical professional and Emma fits the bill. But would she be willing to endure what they are asking of her? And how long will it be before everyone figures out not everything is as it seems?

Work can also be found on AO3 - IndigoSunset This story is complete.

Chapter 1 - Hospital Fiasco A hospital is attacked and the 141 come to the rescue. Chapter 2 - Fixed Up Emma patches up the man that saved her. Chapter 3 - Late Night Talks Sleep alludes Emma and she goes to find someone to talk to. Chapter 4 - New Job Emma signs on to work with the 141 as their new field medic and learns all about her new teammates. Chapter 5 - First Day On the Job Emma's first day working in the hospital and training with the 141. Chapter 6 - Dangerous Lines Soap has to leave for a mission and him and Emma have a charged conversation. Chapter 7 - Training and Waiting Emma and Ghost are left behind at the base waiting for news on how the mission went. The team is gone longer than expected. Chapter 8 - Brutal Bruises The team returns one person short and another beaten pretty badly. Emma and Soap finish their conversation that plagued both of them while he was gone. Chapter 9 - Broken Ribs and Battered Pride Emma starts her hands on training with the rest of the team while Soap and Alex recover. It doesn't go exactly as Emma had hoped. Chapter 10 - Cleared For Duty Soap convinces Emma to put him through the paces to be cleared to go back to work. His idea of a test isn't exactly standard protocol. Chapter 11 - Tension Ghost is displeased with what he knows has happened and the tension comes to a head during training. Chapter 12 - Sketches and Dresses Soap finally shares with Emma what's in his journal while she prepares to put on a false identity for her first mission. Chapter 13 - Blown Cover The mission goes sideways. Soap steps in to rescue Emma after being forced to sit and watch from the sidelines. Chapter 14 - Spy Games Emma stays behind at the safehouse with Alex while the rest of the team works. When Soap gets back they have a little alone time. Chapter 15 - Traitor The traitor to the 141 reveals themselves. They know the best way to keep the rest in line is to take a hostage. Chapter 16 - Captive (TW for torture) Emma is trapped and being tortured to lure the rest of the team in to save her. Chapter 17 - Infiltration (TW brief SA) The 141 push back against their orders to wait and go after the man that betrayed them. The traitor ups the ante on his tactics to rile them. Chapter 18 - Demise (TW death) Multiple threats are taken care of but in the fight Soap makes the ultimate sacrifice to keep those he cares about safe. Emma works against the clock to keep him alive. Chapter 19 - Holding Out Hope Everyone waits to see if Soap will wake up or not. Emma deals with her own recovery while tending to Johnny and fixing other relationships. Chapter 20 - Yours Emma struggles to recover from the mental and physical scars of her ordeal. Four months on, life starts to slowly get back to normal and a new chapter begins.

#fanfic #fanfiction #call of duty fanfic #ao3 fanfic #ao3 writer #ao3 author #my fic #soap fanfic #cod fanfic #call of duty #cod #johnny soap mactavish #john soap mctavish #soap cod #soap x oc #would it be enough?

[entomolog-t]

Can you tell us one or more little ranfom facts about characters of each of your stories you just have but couldn't find a good opportunity to share? Because everyone who have ocs have these

HECK YES!! ANY OPPERTUNITY IS A GOOD ONE!! I gotcha!! But fair warning, this is gonna be a long post 😭💕 Some of these allude to much bigger plot points later on in the stories 👀

Bite Me

Aedes is very much enticed by the color red. Theres definitely some biological reasoning behind it, with him being drawn to blood and such. The same way the a particularly sweet/gourmand perfume may be enticing, that how the color red also stirs something in him.

June is a skilled musician, being able to play an array of instruments at an intermediate level or above. She is a regular at her local bar's open mic nights and karaoke nights.

The Shadow we Cast

Sal has a weird sort of hang up with being handled by people. He doesn't mind being carried- and actually quite enjoys it, having no issue with being near/on people. Despite the fact he's okay being picked up, he is firmly against being grabbed. He has no issue with physical contact on his own terms (and is quite the hypocrite with invading other people's space without it being on their terms) but any prolonged (especially restrictive) contact that was not initiated by him?? Big no no.

Mark struggles with body image issues. He's quite thin/small and has wanted to be in better shape for nearly his entire life but has struggled with feeling self conscious, especially in a gym environment.

Betty will knock things off Sal's shelves if she's not given enough attention. This will often scare Lucy who will scramble away from the commotion (Y'all gonna meet Lucy in the next 1-3 chapters 👀)

INSTAЯ

Bram has a wild array of sounds he can make. He can make these sounds whenever it suits him, however I've listed some typical examples

Example 1 - Frustrated

Example 2 - Scared/angry

Example 3 - This one is interesting, when mixed with more chittering and buzzing sounds, this is close to how Bram sounds trying to speak. Though the chirping/whistling sounds are also what it sounds like when he's laughing/crying.

Dawn is incredibly handy, and tends to fix things/make things herself rather than buying things. She is able to get by without working in a traditional sense, having a lot of odd jobs, favors, and skills that let her get money in unconventional ways.

Honey is a 1-2 year old yellow lab that has a talent for getting into trouble. She occasionally sneaks over to the neighboring farm to torment/play the sheep. The neighboring farm dogs don't mind her company too much, though she's gotten chased off the property for being a nuisance more than once. She has returned home with a calf more than once- much to Dawn's embarrassment.

Clyde is Dawn's brother. He left town to pursue a university education (*cough cough* play varsity hockey).

Finding Strength

Tamius is a highly intelligent borrower with a passion for learning and putting his knowledge to use. He is naturally incredibly gifted over a broad stroke of topics (math, sciences, arts). He is voracious in his search for knowledge and understanding, and is ever infuriated by the relative gap in both access to information and the sheer volume of opportunity had by humans relative to his own kind.

Rose is a varsity wrestler struggling with her identity outside of sport. Dedicated and skilled as an athlete, Rose is an average-ish student who has no clue what path lay ahead of her.

#g/t community #AskEnto #JuneOC #AedesOC #Bite Me #HoneyOC #BettyOC #SalOC #MarkOC #LucyOC #TSWC #BramOC #DawnOC #ClydeOC #Instar #INSTAЯ #FS #Finding Strength #RoseOC #TamiusOC

[nyx3927]

I see a lot of deaf Bakugō or deaf Present Mic headcanons floating around and I figured that y’all could use some more technical information on it instead of just “can’t hear” and “learns sign language”.

This is going under a cut since it is a lot but it is all information that would help with writing/developing a good Deaf character and not just focusing on what inconveniences/fascinates hearing people.

It covers assistive devices and fittings, audiograms, medical stuff, and the Deaf community.

Please note that this is not an exhaustive covering of all the technical aspects and is based mainly off of what I’ve experienced/have seen happen/have asked professionals about. I might come back and add more as more comes to me.

1) Types of assistive devices that can be used to help reach the needed level of hearing

The devices depend on the severity of the hearing loss. That is determined by an audiogram which tests the quietest noise at a frequency you can hear which is discussed later.

If you have a mild hearing loss, the chances of you needing an assistive device is low, almost nonexistent. That is because you can still hear the speech of most people which is what an assistive device helps with.

The two assistive devices used are a hearing aid and a cochlear implant.

A cochlear is only for profound or total deafness. You can only hear really loud things, and sometimes not even that. The basics of how it works is you have a sound processor that converts noises to electrical impulses which go to the physical cochlear. It requires surgery to install and you can get that at 12 months at the youngest.

A hearing aid has 6 different appearances which depend on what your needs are and what you want.

a)iitc-invisible in the canal. People can’t see it but it’s better for less severe hearing losses because it’s smaller and can’t process as much

b)cic-completely in the canal. Pretty much the same as an iitc just a bit bigger and more visible.

c)itc-in the canal. Again, same as above, but it does have more ability to help with more severe hearing loss.

d)ite-in the ear. Visible, and can help with moderate hearing loss.

Most in the canal designs are made for less severe hearing loss and better. They’re small and discreet, especially if you get skin-colored ones. They also can have smaller batteries which can be an issue for dexterity.

e)ric- reciever in canal. The power bank is behind the ear while the reciever that makes the noise is in the canal

f)bte-behind the ear. Most visible

The ones that go behind the ear are best for connecting with additional assistive devices because you can fit Bluetooth in or connect a receiver to it. These are also good for children who lose things and are a bit sturdier.

2) What an audiogram is and how you get one

[Image ID: A graph with the left axis labeled “Loudness-measured in decibels(dB)” going from 0-120, the right axis labeled “degree of hearing loss”, normal in 0-25 decibels, mild in 25-40 decibels, moderate in 40-70 decibels, severe in 70-90 decibels, and profound in 90-120 decibels. The top is labeled “pitch (or frequency)-measured in cycles per second(Hz)” and goes from 125-5000. Pictures of different things that make noise are over the graph with a yellow banana-shape in the middle of the graph. End ID]

This is an audiogram with the “speech banana”(the yellow banana shape) which is where you have to be to hear and understand speech without any devices and it is how you find out if you have a hearing loss.

To get one, you have to go to an audiologist and take quite a few tests that take forever and suck. Keep in mind, these tests can go in any order but as kids are a handful they tend to go in this order from experience.

Test one: You go into a little sound dampening booth so you can’t hear outside of it and the doctor puts what is basically wired earbuds in your ear. They leave and sit at a table full of controls and start pressing buttons. You’re told to repeat whatever words you hear through the earbuds and you do it. It goes on for a while, lots of boring words and struggling to make one out, it is done in a single ear and both ears. It can be done by the doctor saying words but that’s not as common in professional settings.

Test two: You stay in the little booth with the earbuds. Now you have to listen to sounds and confirm that you heard the sounds. This can be done verbally, by raising your hand, or by pressing a clicker that tells the doc you heard it. The sounds are piped in through one ear at a time, this is to determine if one ear has a more severe hearing loss

Test three: The doc comes back in and removes the earbuds. Next, they put a special band on your head that looks like a headband but has a cold hard bit on the end that goes right on the bone behind your ear. It hurts and is very uncomfortable. Then repeat the same stuff as test two with the doc coming in to put the headband on the other side of the head so both sides hurt from the bit on the end.

3) Hearing aid fitting

First step, you go and get any big lumps of earwax in your ears cleaned out. Too much earwax means they can’t make a mold of your ear. Second, the doc shoves mini sponges with a string attached into your ear to make sure that you don’t get anything down the canal and it doesn’t get lost. Third, they open up a package with a syringe and some sort of molding stuff, I don’t know what it’s called, but it’s often blue or pink or a mixture. The molding stuff gets put in the syringe which is then used to fill up your ear. The stuff is cold and feels weird while it’s drying which takes ~5 mins, and while it is in there you cannot hear a single thing from that ear. Then the doc pulls the dried thing out of your ear using the string and you have an ear mold for the hearing aid. Repeat for other ear if needed.

Couple weeks later, you go back and the doctor has your completed hearing aid with everything preset to compensate for your level of hearing loss and a perfect fit in your ears. Then you fiddle with the settings a bit so that you’re comfy and trim the wire if it’s a bte to make it sit better. It’ll feel weird for a bit as you adjust to it, but it’ll feel comfy after a week or two.

4) Deaf community and sign language

First, sign is a real language which has its own dialect, slang, jokes, and grammar. Go away if you disagree.

Second, one sign language isn’t the same as another. ASL is not the same as BSL which is different from JSL which has little in common with SSL. There are similarities but they are very different from each other. I can’t interpret for a deaf British person because I don’t know BSL

Third, yes staring at someone who is signing is rude and annoying. If you know it, it’s like you’re eavesdropping on them. If you don’t know it, it’s like staring at someone speaking a language you don’t know just because you don’t understand them.

Fourth, sign names are given by a Deaf person. If you’re hearing and learning sign, you can’t give yourself a sign name, that’s disrespectful.

Fifth, most Deaf adults don’t support getting cochlears when a kid is still a toddler or younger because it implies that deafness is something that needs to be fixed and the kid has no real say in the matter.

Sixth, Deaf person and deaf person are two different things. It’s similar to identity first vs person first language, but not the exact same.

Seventh, the Deaf community is fairly welcoming to everyone. Someone who’s just going deaf is just as welcome as someone who’s been deaf all their life. A hearing person learning sign is welcomed in as long as they’re polite and don’t expect the community to shift to make them more comfortable. A parent of a deaf kid is welcomed and given information that the kid needs.

5) Medical Stuff

Technically, speaking if you have any sort of hearing loss, you should wear a medical alert bracelet. It’d have your name, a phone number, if you wear a hearing aid, cochlear, and/or use ASL, and says that you might not respond to vocal prompts. Most of us don’t wear them, it’s just kinda a hassle to do.

Since both cochlears and hearing aids do have metal, you have to be careful about MRIs because if they are removed, they can get ripped out and injure you further. That mainly a concern for cochlears since they’re surgically installed under the skin and not visible unless the outer piece is on

Using hearing aids does cause earwax buildup, so you need to get that cleaned out regularly or it’s make your hearing worse.

Audiograms are typically redone every 5-ish years to update the cochlear/hearing aid ability and to make sure you’re getting what you need.

Anyone can get hearing loss, and it’s almost impossible to not get it as you age. The severity of the hearing loss is dependent on what you do and where you live. The chances of a single accident wiping out all of your hearing and rendering you completely deaf is fairly low, but not impossible.

#deaf bakugo #deaf present mic #deaf yamada hizashi #deaf and hoh #deaf character #boku no hero academia #hearing aids #cochlearimplant #sign language

[hawkinsschoolcounselor]

So I rewatched season 1&2 and I remembered how incredibly great the show is. I also remembered that I am not over the mess that season 3 was yet and I am genuinely angry and worried that season 4 might be just as bad - because I have no idea how they can find a remedy after s3. Lazy writing, missed opportunities in storylines (Will’s could have been done so, so much better), really bad dialogue and more. And I still hear people everywhere say it was the best season! How? I loved ST from the start and I really feel like they’ve ruined it. The show lost authenticity, and I don’t know how they plan on making s4 a follow up to this mess. Thoughts?

I think the lack of authenticity was the entire point of season 3. Just look at the ridiculously over the top Americana that was highlighted alongside a look at the corrupt politics and struggling local economy. Look at the couples the fans adored being portrayed as dysfunctional in one way or another. Look at how almost everyone is trying to portray something other than the truth for the entire season. It all fed into the idea that nobody was who they claimed to be, whether they were the heroes, the mayor, or the townspeople who were turned into thralls of the Mindflayer.

I think it went over the heads of a great deal of the audience, including my own at the time, but the "bad" elements of the season were likely intentional. Will being underutilized actually was sort of meta since he felt left behind and unwanted. Joyce obsessing over the magnets was likely an attempt on her part to avoid acknowledging her own grief, as well as possible guilt over being attracted to Hopper so soon after Bob's death. Lucas' New Coke commercial is a sign that he's willing to go with what's cool over what he may actually think (which may well be his season 4 arc).

I think season 4 will largely involve these characters reconciling who they are with the larger world around them. Season 3 was stated to be largely inspired by puberty, which, as I've posted before, comes with a lot of confusion over personal identity. Almost everyone, particularly the kids, in the season was concerned with putting on a performance of some kind. Dustin is largely immune to this, but only because he is perfectly content to be who he is. The rest need to figure all of this out. We've already seen hints that Lucas may consider himself too cool to be associated with Dustin, but I imagine he's getting pressure to be "cool" or "normal." Mike and Will have their own little gay adventure to go on. El has to determine who she is now that she can have something of a normal life. Erica has to reconcile her previous image with the realization that she's a nerd in her own right. Max has a lot of grief to deal with that she may be hiding since she tends to put out the image of tough tomboy.

Only time will tell, but I think season 3 will make a lot more sense in the long run. They perhaps got a bit too cute with it, but I can see what makes it good now.

#stranger things #stranger things 3

[finzphoenix]

Rasgo, you say? I'm intrigued. Can I get any headcanons?

Sure! ;3 It contains the beginnings of the ship, a special thanks goes to @blackiraven who helped me a lot with these hcs <33 ^^ (since I’m really bad at keeping things short, here’s a cut)

- Hugo and Ra's found each other during the months before Arkham City.

- Ra's was impressed by the strength of will Hugo represented, the fact that he had dared to get in contact with his assassins and face the Demon Head himself. The doctor had managed to find out his whereabouts despite all security precautions and strict secrecy. A difficult task considering how many hideouts he owns all over the world.

- The second fact, Ras recognized Hugo's potential as a worthy successor. Enormous strength, bravery and energy are usually his demands on his potential replacement. And well, Hugo has already proven all this. He has strength and bravery (because he came to him, even at the risk of losing his life and also because he is not afraid to act against people who wants to bring him down, manipulate him or wants to exploid him for their own purposes). Hugo had the energy to withstand this over several years. He kept getting up after a defeat. Furthermore, Hugo has already come close to death and has survived again and again; he did not owe his resurrection to doctors or a lazerus pit, it was his own willpower. And who would be better to inherit the legacy of immortality than someone who has conquered death once, even several times?

- Ra’s tends to analyze all the people who join him, in Hugo's case, he didn't have the time he normally would have. When entering into an alliance with someone, he need to make sure that he can trust his partner (and potential successor). At anytime. So he has one or the other conversation with Hugo outside of their plans and due to the fact that such a cooperation requires a perfect strategic interaction, both work together for a while on the implementation, which in turn means that Hugo stays with the League for quite a bit time.

- The members themselves are loyal to Ra’s and obedient to the death, but there was an incident...

- An adept was too fixated on seeing his destiny in the succession as a leader, the overzealousness seized him. Strange was a potential threat, a shadow that hung over them like the sword of Damocles. It was surely only a matter of time before he betrayed them. After all, this man was so nervous the whole time, as if he had something big to hide... So, in a cloak-and-dagger operation, he decided that he didn't want to jeopardize his future. -> Hugo had been working all day untill late night and decided to give his mind a few hours of rest. All this time he was in the library, reading books on psychology and hypnosis, mind control, studying old maps of Gotham, and so on. When he finished and was about to leave for his room, he heard a strange noise... Then the assassin attacked him out of the darkness.

At first, he managed to dodge and fend off the sword with the book he was holding. Hugo immediately realized that he would not be able to defeat a professional assassin, so he decided to neutralize him with the help of the environment. He lured the assassin to the bookcases (and had to put up with a deep vertical sword wound on his stomach) that allowed Hugo to knock over one of the bookshelves with the last of his strength and to escape the library. And then, as he struggled down the corridor and left a trail of blood behind himself, a sudden large shadow appears. It's Ra's who was drawn to the noise. Hugo first thought is that he came to finish him off and tries anxiously to come up with arguments and not flinch when his opponent carefully moves towards him. Contrary to his expectations, Ra's assures him that he had not command anything like this and that he would like to help... if he lets him.

- After he had been pached up by Ra's after a long night, his trust was of course shaken. Sure, Ra's assured that it had nothing to do with him... he even had said assassin executed to make a statement and a memorial. And yet there was still a doubt. But especially the tension in this new surroundings made it difficult for him to concentrate on nearly... everything. He knew that he was being watched from the shadows. The whole time. And he had no guarantee that Ra's deterrent method had worked... Ra's in turn could already feel when Hugo entered the room. The tension was palpable. If this working relationship, which was also a relationship of trust, had to work, he had to get Hugo to talk to him. But since he didn't seem to wanna face it with words - maybe out of fear of showing weakness - Ra's decides to invite him to a game of chess and puts him under zugzwang, so to speak. In his opinion, chess finally enables both subjectivity and a sense of identity to be expressed with its ideal of unity and authenticity, as well as conveying a clear picture of the private flow of emotions and thoughts, the as a direct self-expression, truth and authenticity guaranteed.

Tied to the basics of intersubjective reason, to a linguistic system of norms that meets the criteria of general comprehensibility

the possibilities of what a person can say and experience in an individually authentic way seem extremely narrow - but if he can let actions speak for themselves... the whole thing looks completely different.

And it actually worked. Hugo's concerns were expressed whether intentionally or unintentionally through his moves and Ra’s responded to them with forbearance and understanding.

At some point Hugo even completely forgot that it was not just a conversation, but also a game and made wrong, more aggressive moves, which in turn made Ra's smile. The mischief that flashed in his eyes as he gradually took Hugo's pawns out of the game made his counterpart realize how counterproductive his behavior was, but also surprised him with this new... playfulness?

That was what finally convinced him to rebuild his trust and to watch the game much more relaxed and pleasant.

- The game is also reflected in their behavior towards each other afterwards. They slowly opened up to each other, exchanging views on medicine and research (when the time allowed), and even talked about family relationships; like, for example, about Hugo's son. A bond of trust slowly weaved around them, laying the foundations for... something more.

#My greatest apologises for my crappy english skills x'3 #thanks a lot for your ask! we had a lot fun talking about it^^ #Ras Al Ghul #Hugo Strange #Finz' Art #temarcia #Finz' answer #rasgo #Batman #DC #Batman fanart #drawing #digital art #and thank you so much for your interest in this ship!^-^❤️ #arkham video games #arkham series #Arkham verse #Arkham city #it's so much fun drawing these two...

[bitchapalooza]

Hetalia nekotalia headcanons(covering just a few of them)

It seems weird that the cats would just be called "Italy-cat" by the actual nation whose name is already Italy so I wasted my time in figuring out their possible breeds and searching up acceptable names(unless stated otherwise) for them that the nations may pick for them and even where the nations obtained these cats. I think they've come to value these cats on the same level as themselves due to how long they may have been around(the same goes for whatever other pet(s) they may own). I thought this was a fun thing to do and honestly it was! :)

Might do more when I get the time again~

***Tw for mentions of animal abuse***

Americat:

Domestic long hair, possible Maine Coon mix!

I think America adopted his cat in the 1980s. He was just a kitten, abandoned outside a supermarket in a box with a sign with one other kitten inside. At least 2 months old. America, having a big heart and soft spot for animals of any kind, took them both in. However he was already struggling to buy proper food for his other animals so he needed to find a different home for them. America ended up keeping one, as he fell absolutely head over heels for him, and named him Liberty— for obvious personal reasons. America raised him for the majority of his life as an indoor cat but with how much energy he has he decided to train him to be an outdoor cat as well, even teaching him to use the doggy door. This gave him enough room to actually grow faster into the adult cat he is now compared to if he'd ALWAYS be around America(as in staying small due to the slow aging around America).

Canacat:

Domestic longhair, possible Maine Coon mix!

Canada adopted him after America offhandedly asked. Canada was pretty stuck when it came to naming him. It was 4 weeks into owning him, mostly calling him a range of names such as Paul and Rookie but never sticking to one for even one whole day, but when Canada was just sitting there eating breakfast before leaving for his daily duties, just a normal quiet morning it came to him. Again, he was just sitting there. That is until the kitten figured out how to climb onto the chair next to him that is. He sat there meowing and pawing at Canada's thigh for 10 minutes while Canada ate. And then he tried to jump onto the table 3 times in a row. Canada gave in and allowed him up there for a minimum of 3 minutes. Not even 1 second passed and suddenly the little rascal is trying to steal the last couple bites of pancake. That was apparently what he wanted. And so Canada named him Pancake! Pancake was an energetic little kitten that a spring in his step but he did mellow out as he grew into adulthood. He's mainly an indoor cat. Come winter time when it snows, Pancake has a tendency to forget the existence of snow so he goes bolting for it only to regret it later.

Germany-cat:

A black or gray German Rex!

Germany isn't exactly a big cat person, he prefers dogs. But after this kitten followed Prussia's cat all the way home and noticed how thin he was he couldn't resist taking care of him. Germany ended up naming him Maus in reference to how tiny and often silent his meow was as a kitten. Now it's just a hilarious name as he's grown quite big and has a very strong meow! Maus is a very well behaved cat although it seems he doesn't favor being played with. He's most often seen at the top of his cat tower or in the window basking in the warm sun. As he was previously found as a stray outside he still does favor being outside. He tends to escape whenever Germany unlocks the doggy door or when Germany let's the dogs out in the backyard to run around for a bit. Maus may be a very mellow cat but he does tend to be loud when he wants food and doesn't want to wait for it. He also tends to attack people when suddenly being pet.

Prussia-cat:

An albino German Rex!

Prussia adopted him in 1998 after his and Germany's new home became a little overrun with mice. Prussia affectionately named him Gunther. Gunther was a spunky little kitten, in fact he was the runt of 6 other siblings and noticeably different to his siblings in appearance(originally thought to just take after the father's white coat despite the orange coats of his siblings and mother). Prussia chose him, the teeny little runt, after watching him easily sneak up and take down his bigger sister and win the play-fight he started. Prussia proudly took him home and trained him to catch the mice! Some years later, Gunther apparently got curious and brave and got loose outside. He was gone for weeks. He came back with a limp, a fresh scar, and a kitten clinging to his side. Gunther rarely escapes outside anymore. Prussia didn't know Gunther was albino until took he took him to the vet for his shots.

Itabby and Romano-cat:

They're both European shorthairs!

When the Italies were freshly unified and everything was still pretty awkward they were forced to go bond by taking walks every morning. Veneziano didn't mind this, he enjoyed the morning and even more so the countryside around them. Romano however could care less about it all and just wanted his bed back. Veneziano was all conversation, very observant of his surroundings as he commented on them to strike up an interesting conversation. And that's how he noticed a man cruelly stuffing two kittens into a sack on their way out of town. After alerting his brother, the two confronted the man. The man claimed these two were sick because neither were getting any of their mother's milk like the rest. Romano demanded he hand the kittens over or else he'd regret it. Veneziano annoyed him with his whining to the point where he gave in and handed them over quite harshly. Once they got them safely away from the man they took a look at the 1 week old kittens; they were both terribly skinny but clearly hanging on for dear life and the brothers both agreed, for once(well more like Romano kept saying "whatever the fuck you want"), that they wanted to help these poor creatures. Luckily for them they knew a stray cat that just had another litter of 3 and could perhaps try to get her to accept two more. And she did! Well it took a day but she did eventually take them in and feed them. Veneziano immediately decided that once they were old enough to eat solid foods he was going to keep one of them and name him Gino! It took a while for Romano to warm up to the idea of keeping even one but he eventually did. He took the other kitten and named him Sonno. They've lived so long due to just how clingy they are to the brothers. Their aging was so slowed down because of how often they're near the Italies that they didn't become fully grown adult cats until some time around 1932.

Japan-cat:

Japanese bobtail!

Named Yoshi* for being Japan's little lucky charm. Yoshi was left behind by his previous family after they moved away. He left his home and began wandering around until he got to Japan's house. Taking notice of how the cat stuck around his house, Japan began feeding him. And feeding him. And feeding him. And eventually he accepted the idea that he was now a cat owner. Not knowing his previous name, Japan decided to rename him Yoshi. Because of Yoshi, Japan began to come outside more and more each day as he is an outdoor cat that seldomly comes inside anymore. What's more is Yoshi came into his life in 1999, just a few months before 2000— aka when The Lost Decade was coming to an end as well as his personal on and off string of depressive episodes. Japan spoils Yoshi with treats and only the best cat food he can afford!

*The real name given to him by Himaruya is Tama, most likely a reference to calico cat Tama from Kinokawa, Wakayama Prefecture, Japan(that's at least what I've gathered). Before I knew this(in my early fandom days) I headcanoned his name to be Yoshi, as I said above it was a reference to luck(I didn't have as easy and unmonitored access to the internet as I do now so I never had a steady way to look these things up). I like Tama as well but I still can't get the name Yoshi out of my mind! I'm not sure if Yoshi and Tama can be combined like some names here in America can be combined(like Lilian Pad[as in Lily Pad] or Patches Poo) and I don't want to attempt it in case I get it wrong no matter how much research I do.

Austria-cat:

Domestic longhair!

Austria has quite the soft spot for this kitty surprisingly. He was born on his estate after his mother wandered in and settled between a couple bushes in his garden. He was born one of three kittens, almost entirely identical to his mother. Austria ended up giving names to all the cats but this one specifically was named Mozart— for very obvious reasons on Austria's part. The mother cat and two of the other kittens ended up moving along a year later after Austria decided to renovate part of his house; however the only one to stick around was Mozart. Austria would let Mozart come inside if only he could manage to pick him up. Mozart will jump into his lap outside, brush up against him, greet him in the morning, allow him to come near(especially with food and clean water) and even pet him but he won't ever peacefully allow Austria to carry him. Mozart was originally thought to be a Ragdoll however it was France who identified him to be a simple domestic longhair instead.

China-cat:

Burmese cat!

Originally a stray that endlessly bothered a shop owner and his own cat, China attracted his attention when he fed him only once. This cat followed him all the way to the hotel he was staying at not far from the little shop, which annoyed him greatly but honestly gave him a little laugh as well. As his car ride home was only going to be an hour at best he decided to at least attempt to bring the little fella home for proper care and attention. And obviously it worked. On his way home he decided a name like Zhi seemed perfect for him! Something told China Zhi was used to car rides and being around people, which told him Zhi was originally in a loving home. Feeling a little sad that this nice loyal cat was living on the streets he began to pamper him. Now Zhi expects to be brushed twice a day, let out at least once a day to soak in the sun's warmth and lay in the soft grass. He's fed the best food possible, has more toys that he knows what to do with. China's cellphone is overrun with videos of Zhi playing fetch— a trick he didn't teach him which, to him, is further proof he had a previous owner.

Russia-cat:

Siberian cat!

Taken in from a rescue shelter, at first fostered, then adopted. Russia kept the name the shelter gave him, Boris, as it fit him very well considering his past. Boris was unfortunately neglected when his previous owner was around. His fur was matted, he was skin and bones, upon pick up he had an eye infection. He was terribly scared of people. After being treated and showed kindness, it wasn't very long for him to open up. When Russia came along and took him in to give him all the proper attention he lacked, Boris fell in love with it. And Russia fell in love with having a cat around. Before anyone could swoop in and try to adopt Boris, Russia already put in to adopt. Now Boris is a happy healthy cat who's favorite toy to play with is Russia's supply of yarn. Boris loves bird or feather based toys the most, however, and will often drag his favorite feather wand over to Russia so he'd play. He's not much of an outdoor cat but after being kept mostly in a small cage since birth he does enjoy at least laying on the porch outside.

France-cat:

A Sacred Birman with light creamy point colouration!*

Obtained as a newly born kitten in 1992, France had offered to help nurture him as his mother had died shortly after giving birth. France named him Minou, more so in honor of his deceased mother Minet rather than it being a common French cat's name(some assume he was lazy with his naming). Minou grew up to be properly spoiled and loved by France. From the time he could see and walk properly, France began putting light outfits and accessories on him for very small amounts of time(like hats and ties mainly to avoid overheating). Minou often silently greets France at the door whenever he comes home, barreling through the hallway or off the couch in order to get some much needed love and attention. He surprisingly gets along very well with France's pet birds, only ever going after them once as a kitten. Minou can be found in his luxurious cat bed made of cardboard from the cat tower's box and a quilt France had crafted long long ago that's now drastically torn in various places. OR he can be found planting his fanny on France's face at night, nearly suffocating him. Minou seems to have a likeness for Russia and England.

*I know France-cat doesn't have any visible point colorations to him but him being a Persian doesn't fit him in my opinion, especially a blue eyed white cat. There's a high percentage of blue eyed white cats being deaf. However a common trait in Birmans are blue eyes so that, to me, fits better.

Iggycat:

Scottish fold-American shorthair mix!*

Obtained through a small litter from a colleague. England named him Lopsy  immediately upon seeing him, completely falling in love with him. Due to Lopsy's health concerns(osteochondrodysplasia) he's strictly an indoor cat. He's not very playful due to the pain he endures so he's prone to lay about, especially in England's lap, in his cat bed that sits directly under the window to reach the sunlight, or under England's bed. Despite being on them for so long, it still takes quite the struggle to give Lopsy his medication as he's come accustomed to when England is preparing to give it to him. As he's not very active, Lopsy isn't too fond of France's, America's, or Canada's cats— all of which tend to love playing together. However there are times when Minou is in non-playful mode where Lopsy will lay near or eat with him, but will absolutely refuse to lay with since Minou does have a tendency to attack another cat's tail without warning.

*The reason I see him as a mix is due to the major health concerns breeding two Scottish folds together can bring. However, breeding a Scottish fold with an American shorthair or British shorthair is often the better choice as there's less issues involved. There's talk about banning the breed all together. Even with this talk, breeding persists, preferably for cat shows from the sound of it. There's even research going into fixing these health concerns but it seems incurable due to the Scottish fold disease seeming to be a very dominant trait no matter what secondary breed it's bred with. Scottish fold disease doesn't always occur in a litter, mostly being a 50% change.

Spain-cat:

European shorthair!

Named Vivo for his lively personality, this little guy was found in the rain, drenched and hungry. He looked to be roughly 3 months old, very well fed and groomed so Spain assumed he had a family he ran away from for whatever reason. Without any other solution, Spain took him in until someone came to pick him up. A few weeks go by without anyone coming to claim him, so Spain opted to keep Vivo. Vivo is very loving, he possess a strong purr and often falls asleep purring. He's a lap cat but also has a tendency to curl up on or near Spain's shoulder when he's on the couch. Vivo is mainly an outdoor cat, often chasing mice or other vermen away from the garden without ever destroying it. Spain is pretty grateful to of found him as it had gotten quiet with Romano gone and all. And Vivo defiantly brought some noise to the house! He's not always vocal but when he is he tends to run around happily meowing for attention. He's surprisingly very territorial however— when introduced with then young kits Gino and Sonno, the Italies' cats, Vivo almost attacked them. It took small steps forward to get the three of them to warm up to each other. It also took a while to warm Vivo up to Minou and Gunther.

#hetalia #hetalia headcanons #nekotalia #nekotalia headcanons #hetalia america #hetalia romano #hetalia veneziano #hetalia england #hetalia france #hetalia spain #hetalia austria #hetalia prussia #hetalia germany #hetalia china #hetalia canada #hetalia japan #this took aaaaaallllll day lmao #worth it tho #i learned a lot about cats! :) #tw animal abuse

[mediaevalmusereads]

The Only Good Indians. By Stephen Graham Jones. New York: Little, Brown Books, 2017.

Rating: 3.5/5 stars

Genre: literary fiction, horror (?)

Part of a Series? No

Summary: The creeping horror of Paul Tremblay meets Tommy Orange’s There There in a dark novel of revenge, cultural identity, and the cost of breaking from tradition in this latest novel from the Jordan Peele of horror literature, Stephen Graham Jones. Seamlessly blending classic horror and a dramatic narrative with sharp social commentary, The Only Good Indians follows four American Indian men after a disturbing event from their youth puts them in a desperate struggle for their lives. Tracked by an entity bent on revenge, these childhood friends are helpless as the culture and traditions they left behind catch up to them in a violent, vengeful way.

***Full review under the cut.***

Content Warnings: blood, gore, animal death, violence

Overview: A friend who teaches horror fiction at the college level recommended this book to me, and I had fairly high expectations. I love a creepy novel, and I was looking forward to an Indigenous horror story that played with some of the tropes I was accustomed to seeing. Unfortunately for me, I had mixed feelings when I turned the final page. While some scenes were definitely evocative, and I liked some of the imagery, I ultimately wanted more of a sense of dread. I also found Jones’s prose style to be hit or miss (depending on the section), so as a result, this book is a 3-star read for me. Readers who enjoy horror, however, might like this a little more than I did. I’m admittedly a little picky when it comes to the genre.

Writing: Jones’s prose seemed to work really well for me at times and really hold me back at others. Especially towards the beginning, I personally found it hard to follow, in part because it felt like Jones was using a lot of slang I didn’t understand along with some unclear syntax here and there. There were also some sentences that felt like they were rambling, and while I think Jones was going for was a kind of laid-back style that imitates speech patterns, and that may work for some, it didn’t always work for me.

There were moments, however, when the laid-back style really set the mood of a particular scene. I think Jones’s rambling sentences and casual tone helped illustrate what life feels like for characters struggling not to become Native stereotypes, and I liked seeing the characters in their day-to-day lives (before the horror happens).

There were moments in these types of scenes, however, where I felt like Jones relied on a lot of telling over showing. Sometimes, Jones describes a character or object or event and then he’ll give a sentence or two of backstory or explain the significance of the thing, or else reference something that happens off-page or in the past, and it felt like I was being asked to absorb that significance right away so that the events in the moment had more meaning. I understand that a lot of these references are meant to evoke a kind of lived experience or “realistic” vibe, and overall, it wasn’t an overwhelming problem. I just happened to notice some sentences here and there.

Plot: This book primarily follows four friends as they are “hunted” down by a vengeful elk spirit (?). Without giving anything away, I will say that I didn’t quite feel an overwhelming sense of dread while reading, and I think it’s because I didn’t feel the psychological impact of the horror or past event. While characters were definitely affected by creepy images and phenomena, and there were probably some cultural implications that went over my head, I ultimately didn’t feel like the characters were mentally or psychologically affected by what happened in the past. Maybe I could say something about Lewis’ paranoia - and indeed, I think that was well done. But the others... not so much.

I also think the pacing felt a little off, and events didn’t really build on one another. While I did like reading about the characters’ everyday lives, it ultimately felt like I was reading literary fiction punctuated by a gory scene here and there. I’m picky about my horror, though, so this criticism might be personal preference. As a piece of literary fiction, this book would have absolutely worked for me. As horror, not so much.

Aside from that, there were moments where I thought characters ended up in situations or did certain things that weren’t wholly believable, and it made me think that Jones was writing them so plot things could happen. For example, in part two, Cass’s girlfriend, Jo, is hiding under the truck for some reason (did she see the elk spirit? We don’t actually know), and doesn’t come out when she hears Cass and Gabe fighting. She needs to be under the truck for something to happen (which I won’t spoil), and it just felt odd to me.

Characters: This book primarily follows 4 characters’ POV: Lewis (in part one), Gabe and Cass (part two), and Gabe’s daughter, Denorah (part 3). Personally, I found the character studies (rather than the horror plot) to be the best parts of this book.

Lewis is interesting in that he’s left the reservation and tried to make a life for himself with a white woman. I liked that he had his quirks - he liked to read trashy fantasy novels and worked on his motorcycle a lot - and I liked that his paranoia about the elk spirit created a kind of tension in the narrative. While reading his perspective, I wasn’t sure if the elk spirit was literal or something Lewis made up to symbolize his guilt, and I think Jones did a good job showing that Lewis’s paranoia made him think and act in strange ways.

Gabe and Cass are also well-developed in that they have their own lives on the reservation, but struggle to keep their head above water, so to speak. I appreciated getting a glimpse into what challenges they faced and how some of those challenges come from a clash between “traditional” and “modern/contemporary” culture. While I didn’t quite find Gabe and Cass as interesting as Lewis (in part because they barely remember the event from the past that triggers this whole “vengeful elk spirit” plot), they weren’t bad characters by any means. I liked Cass’s focus on horses and his plans for a future with Jo; and I also liked Gabe’s complicated relationship with his daughter.

Denorah was sympathetic in that she had some very clear goals for her life, and as a reader, I wanted very much for her to achieve those goals. She loves basketball, and readers can see that in the way she acts and thinks. But as much as I liked Denorah, I think her section (part 3) tended to drag out a little bit, perhaps because Denorah comes face-to-face with the elk spirit and the spirit’s vengeance felt a little misdirected. I also think the book as a whole ended somewhat abruptly; because the book ends with Denorah, I wanted a little more from her, like a commentary on the past and how she takes the pain of the past and uses it to move forward. Instead, it felt a little like a bunch of bad things happened at random, and there wasn’t much of a “lesson” (not that books need them, but I’m picky about my horror - I like the scary things to comment on something).

Supporting characters such as Lewis’s wife (Peta), Lewis’s coworker (Shaney), Cass’s girlfriend (Jo), etc. were likewise well-written and seemed complex. I don’t have much to say about them without giving away plot points, but I do think they served their purposes.

The elk spirit was... complicated. As a character, I didn’t really connect with her, despite Jones writing a couple of chapters from her POV. While I understand the desire for vengeance, I didn’t really feel it in my bones, so all the violence in the book that the spirit commits feels random and superficial. I think I would have connected with the spirit more if Jones had included more passages from her POV, getting us to empathize with her pain a little more or at least providing some kind of commentary on the rights of nature or something. But this might be personal preference, so take this criticism with a grain of salt.

TL;DR: Despite a lack of dread or suspense, The Only Good Indians is a welcome addition to the horror genre, using spooky, disturbing imagery to underline the struggle of four Blackfeet characters trying to make a life for themselves. While die-hard horror fans might find this book lacking, Jones’s novel will absolutely appeal to literary fiction readers, as the character studies are the strongest and most compelling parts of the book.

[crimsonbluemoon]

6, 3, 7 H2OVanoss! You know me heh ( •ॢᴗ•ॢ⋈)

Ahhh Owlbun! So I hope this fits the perimeters of a cute-meet cause I don’t know if it does but I think it does? Idk, its cute, please enjoy this mess of a story. >.> It’s a diff style than I normally do, but….hope it works out!

AU: Coffee shopTrope: Meet cutePrompt: “You had no idea, did you?”

Pairing: H2O Vanoss

If Evan was being honest, he hadn’t expected the chalkboard wall at his coffee shop to make much of a difference. The Owl Cafe was a staple in the community, and he had an okay group of regulars that liked to come in and check out his new blends on the daily. There were ones he knew by name, like the 6 year old girl Momo who loved Brian’s hot chocolate, or the late-night writer Kryoz who always seemed to appear when the place was deserted. Some regulars he didn’t catch names for, so he titled them as he saw fit; Runner man, vlogger teen, cute sweatshirt guy. All had their place in his cafe, which was steady in its sales. He wasn’t rolling in cash, but it was enough to pay Brock and Brian, so he felt that he was doing alright. 

The chalkboard had been something of a whim. A friend when he was younger had a wall in his bedroom with chalkboard paint that Evan had always enjoyed drawing on before bed. When he’d bought the cafe two years ago, he hadn’t really remembered the fun times he had scribbling across the bedroom wall. He was too focused on payments and attracting customers to stroll down memory lane. That had changed three months ago when bumping into Lui, the two speaking about their times as a child. The wall came up, of course, and Evan couldn’t let the memory go for days after. Lots of his customers had children, and college kids were always quick to bore when waiting for coffee. So one night, after a really good week at the shop, Evan went out and bought the paint in order to make his wall next to the waiting area a drawing board. 

The result was amazing; people loved coming by and adding their own doodles to the wall, filling it with different styles of art or funny sayings. There were always the punks who tried to draw dicks or write derogatory marks, but street justice tended to stop the crimes far quicker than Evan or his friends picked up on them. Evan enjoyed looking at the board at the end of the night, seeing what secrets it held from the customers he served. He tried to guess who drew what, or where each blurb of inspiration writing came from. Was the struggling mother of three the one who drew the calm beach? Did the preppy college girl express her darker thoughts in the corner of the board? Or was that old couple who shared a coffee really sweet enough to write their 70th anniversary with a heart around it? All of the pieces of the board was a collection of minds, hearts, and souls, and the nights didn’t feel complete for the shop owner without gazing at them in appreciation.  

His favorite part was the confessions; like an anonymous message board, people left words of secrecy every day. Evan felt it was a safe way for customers to express themselves without having to reveal their identity, and so far he hadn’t gotten any confessions that worried him. Brock always enjoyed reading the romantic ones where someone would claim their love for a friend, an ex, or a person they could never have. Brian’s favorites were the weird claims; he made Evan keep the ‘I like smelling feet’ confession up for three days. Evan couldn’t really say he had a type he sought out, because all of them were fun to read. If anything, he liked taking in the handwriting of the confessions, seeing whose were quaking with fear or more broad with confidence that only anonymity provided. 

It was nearly two months into owning the board that a message caught his eye; it didn’t have much color or outlandish design to it, so Evan wasn’t sure why it stuck out to him so much. But the writing just…looked different. Friendly. A little messy but with long enough strokes to show some care went into it. The words only took up a small part of the board. 

I come here every day because I think the owner is nice. And maybe cute? I wanted to ask for his name, but I’m too nervous.

Evan blinked in surprise, feeling his face heat up when he read it again. Someone…confessed about him? It was sort of risky, since this was his shop and he could have checked in on the board at any time, but it was also endearing. Someone was too shy to approach Evan, but felt strong enough about him to confess on his wall? He read the line two more times while he cleaned off every other drawing and confession, leaving the words in the middle of the board. Slowly, his eyes dropped down to the basket of chalk at the bottom of the wall, fingers twitching by his side. Despite having it for months, he’d never actually written on it. He left designing the morning greeting to Brock, as he was the artistic one of the three. But now…

He kept the confession where it was, drawing a little circle around it with the red chalk. Then, with block letters bright enough to catch any returning customer’s attention, he wrote out a simple reply. 

It’s Evan. Nice to meet you.

He didn’t think about the teasing Brian would rain on him, or how unlikely it was for him to get a response. The confessions were meant to be anonymous, not openers for conversation. So sure that his words would be left unanswered, Evan didn’t look once at the board the following day, trying to keep focused on making his customer’s happy. Any time he wasn’t working, he rushed into the back, trying to stay occupied so he didn’t stare at the wall. The day dragged on forever, but when the final customer was out the door, Evan nearly fell flat on his face vaulting over the counter to move to the board. 

“Desperate much, buddy?” Brian’s shout from across the shop went ignored when Evan scanned the wall, looking for any sign of a response. At first, the words around the response were disheartening; nothing connected to what he’d said. The drawings were still cute, and he wanted to read the confessions, but his heart slightly dropped at the sight. Had he scared off the anonymous messenger? He felt his frown start to capture his lips, but then his eye picked up on something. A blue circle had been wrapped around Evan’s words, and a line of chalk was drawn to the left of the board. Curious, his eyes tracked the line. Like thread in a maze, Evan was led to a familiar handwriting. 

Your name fits you! I’m…Jonathan. Is that okay? 

“Jonathan.” He rolled the name around in his mouth, his smile small when he finished. He knew instantly what his new secret penpal was asking, and he found the red chalk from before in order to scribble out his answer. 

That’s totally okay. I bet your name fits you, too, though I’m not sure who you are. Care to give me a hint? 

And for the next two weeks, the hints poured out. 

I like to wear blue a lot. Luke says it matches my eyes. But I think yours are prettier.

Evan counted seventy three customers with blue eyes who wore blue that day, but it did little to limit his search. 

I saw you drop that lady’s coffee on purpose. She deserved it for treating Brock like that. You’re a really good boss.

The incident had been in the morning around rush hour, which probably meant his penpal was at least his age. 

You only wear hats when you clean the mocha machine; it really looks good on you. 

Except this was something he did at night, so maybe he had different shifts throughout the week? 

Whenever little Momo comes in, you always give her the best smile. Sometimes I wish you’d smile at me like that.

Evan’s face hurt from how many smiles he gave out that day, but there had been nobody who hinted at knowing why he’d been grinning so much. 

You’re so beautiful. I really want to ask you on a date. 

Evan’s face flush red for the rest of the night. 

After the days of trying to piece together just who ‘Jonathan’ was, Evan was almost ready to throw in the towel. The little banter between them was fun, and peeks of Jonathan’s personality came out with doodles or smilies at the end of his sentences. He mentioned his friends, his dog, and if Evan closed his eyes, he could almost make out a voice to the words. Everything just felt so familiar about this guy, like he was already seated comfortably in Evan’s life. But he just couldn’t come up with a name, or anything to sink his teeth into. 

So, with a shot of courage (Brian may have supplied the alcohol) and nothing to lose, Evan wrote out one final message. 

Anything but coffee, and I’ll say yes.

Evan tried not to look at the board, just like the first day, hoping he wouldn’t scare away his crush by staring the wall down. Brock and Brian helped distract him, jokingly picking out old men and toddlers as ‘his secret admirer’ before laughing at the outlandish suggestions. Evan tried to smile and joke with them, but his shaking hands when giving out the orders always proved how nervous he was. Each time a customer came up to him, his back tensed, wondering if it’d be his penpal. But they never were, always asking for sugar or a bag for their half eaten muffin. 

When the last minutes of the day ticked away, and just a few regular souls lingered in the cafe, Evan finally broke. He left Brian and Brock behind the counter to walk up to the wall, hands shoved in the pockets of the apron to hide his twitching fingers. Slowly, his eyes scanned the board, trying to find the blue handwriting he’d grown to adore over the couple weeks he’d gotten to see it. But there was nothing; his crush hadn’t replied. 

“I scared him away.” Evan sighed and pressed his head to the chalkboard, eyes closing in defeat. His shoulders slumped down, unable to hide his disappointment. He’d just wanted to know who this guy was, because starting to fall for a chalkboard he technically owned was starting to feel a little creepy-

“Um.” An unsure voice made Evan bite back a groan, trying to keep his composure. Even if he was being ghosted by an anonymous customer, it didn’t mean he could ignore his other ones. Pulling back from the wall, Evan turned to catch sight of a familiar face. Cute sweatshirt guy had been a regular for months, always polite but never one to really engage in much conversation with Evan or the others. He always contributed it to the slight stutter in his speech, which only seemed to come out in longer sentences. It was actually kind of late for cute sweatshirt guy to be at the cafe; he’d bought his coffee close to an hour ago, and though he normally left right after, he’d seemed to linger now. He’d been one of the people who’d come up to Evan, looking like he was going to burst out in a confession, only to ask for creamer.

And sugar.

And a new cup.

…And more creamer.

For a coffee he always drank black.

“Wait.” Evan’s breath hitched in his throat as his eyes widened on the blue gaze nervously watching him, fingers curled into the worn down sweatshirt that was identical in color. 

“Yeah, I’m-that was me. Jonathan. Who you were-I’m the guy tha–that, um, fuck. Luke said I should’ve just-but the wall was…was our thing.” Jonathan’s face lit up in color at the confession, the nervous laugh that poured out loud and uncontrolled. It echoed from the emptiness of the cafe, and both men jumped when Brian swore and knocked over a stack of cups in surprise. Tagging that as future Evan’s problem, he turned his attention back to Jonathan, who looked ready to let his sweatshirt swallow him whole. The smile he gave only lifted half his mouth, proving he didn’t feel confident. “You had no idea, did you?”

“None,” Evan admitted, hands pulling out of his apron at the defeated look that sunk over Jonathan. 

“Right, that’s- I don’t have to ask you on a date if this isn’t what you…if I’m not who you-”

“Ask me!” Evan cut him off fast, not wanting to let Jonathan feel rejected for a second longer. He rushed forward, snagging hands that tugged the end of torn sleeves to entwine their fingers. Blue eyes widened above him, but Evan refused to let his racing heart of reddened cheeks stop him from repeating his confession from before. “Anything but coffee, and I’ll say yes.” 

“Dinner? Can I-would you like to get food with me tomorrow?” Like a puppy, Jonathan’s body perked up at the possibility. Evan laughed before lifting their hands to cup Jonathan’s cheeks. He pushed up onto his toes, feeling the slight intake of his customer’s breath before he answered with a kiss.

But just to be safe, he wrote ‘yes’ on the chalkboard the next morning.

#kihoori #H2O Vanoss #H2O Delirious #VanossGaming #OTP boys #<3 #Crimson drabblez

[goatsandgangsters]

For the trans asks! 1, 6, 14, 18, 25, 41?

1. How did you choose your name?

So the majority of people in my life call me either Em or EJ, though some people still call me Emeline (which is my given name). I don’t think I’ll ever consider it a deadname, because I do have some attachment, but I think the nicknames Em and EJ suite me better. People are welcome to use any of those options. While I’m particular about people getting my pronouns right and using neutral- or masculine-coded language, I’m kind of shrug emoji when it comes to names.

Em is actually largely @meyerlansky‘s doing (still suspended, rip), because they just... have a tendency to shorten people’s names and started calling me Em several years ago. And it just caught on! Particularly among online friends or mutual IRL friends, I looked around one day and was like “oh huh, a lot of people call me Em now, don’t they?” 

EJ has a bit more of an intentional story behind it: I first thought of EJ back in mmmmaybe late 2018? I saw a post on tumblr that was like, “I think it’s cool how there are a couple different Categories that transmasculine names tend to fall into” and listing those out. And one of them was initialisms—with examples like AJ, CJ, TJ. And I noticed, you know, J is always the second letter. And EJ is ACTUALLY MY INITIALS. And I just instantly felt really good about that, because here was a Very Gender Neutral Name, but it still already felt like a name I’d had my entire life. It was fresh and familiar all at once. It fit into this J pattern while also still feeling unique, because EJ is not as common as other -J initialisms. I first tried it out when I started going to a trans group IRL, so I have an entire trans friend group that only calls me EJ. The majority of people at work also call me EJ—similarly because nicknames just spread sometimes. I left my official documentation under Emeline, but mentioned to a couple people that I also go by EJ and then I blinked and almost every single person I work with calls me EJ. 

Both Em and EJ amuse me, because I’m surprised at how easy it is for people to pick up a nickname. I’ve found that people adjust to using a different name WAY more easily than they adjust to changing pronouns? Which is on the one hand an interesting observation, but on the other hand, it’s unfortunate because I CARE MORE ABOUT THE PRONOUNS PEOPLE USE THAN MY NAME

6. When did you realize you were transgender?

Short answer: 2012. I was a sophomore in college and one day I found out some people actually want to be their assigned gender?? I had thought we were all just miserably putting up with it. 

(There’s a longer answer here about realizing my gender in 2012 but then spending years and years overcoming my internalized guilt about “not being trans enough” and constantly moving my own goal post of “well I’m not trans enough because I don’t do x” and then doing x and going “OKAY BUT I HAVEN’T DONE Y” and then doing y and going “YEAH BUT I DON’T DO Z” and then wanting z and finally realizing, hey uh, how many times are you gonna move this goal post and also you’re eventually going to run out of goal posts—and finally having to go OKAY FINE, YES, I’M TRANS ENOUGH. I’M OUT OF EXCUSES TO INVALIDATE MYSELF.)

14. How long have you been out?

2018 was the first time I started telling people directly to use they/them pronouns for me. (I know, I know, took SIX YEARS RIGHT? But processing that is what my therapist is for.) But before that, I was definitely like in that vague place of “blogs about gender feelings and nonbinary stuff often enough that everyone who follows me like probably knew for a number of years before I said anything directly.” But in 2018, I was finally being Concrete and Direct about it, put it in all my socials, etc. Then in 2019, I came out to my parents and at my job for the first time. So officially, 2–3 years overall! 

18. How does your family feel about your trans identity?

If you asked them, they would tell you that they love and support me and they’re proud of me and they fully accept my identity. 

If you asked me, I would tell you that while they do love and support me, trans stuff is COMPLETELY BRAND NEW to them, so they don’t always know the right ways to show that support. It’s one of those “sometimes I wish it didn’t take work, but I know they’re trying and they mean well” situations

They ARE making progress, albeit more slowly than I’d like. Neither of them had ANY IDEA what I was talking about when I first came out. They very much... did not understand what I was telling them. So I made them both read a very good book on the subject, which they did read, and that helped lay some groundwork.

My dad has been consistently good about using neutral language from the start and as of a couple months ago started consistently using my pronouns! My mom still has not used my pronouns ever, which is kind of a bummer because she’s had... two years. She’s at the stage of “notices when she gets it wrong” or “aware enough to avoid pronouns,” which is better than not noticing at all, but it’s still not as good as getting it right. iT’S A PROCESS. I’m trying to be patient with it. They mean well. But god I wish it could just be easy, like a light switch. 

I still haven’t told them about my plans for top surgery. I’ve been putting off that conversation for....... months. It was actually the “pin in that for next week” comment to my therapist when we were wrapping up. But like, IDK IF YOU’RE STILL WORKING ON PRONOUNS, I FEEL LIKE “SURGICALLY REMOVING MY BOOBS” MIGHT SOUND LIKE A LOT?

25. What do you wish cis people understood?

I MEAN, QUITE A LOT. But if I have to get specific, I wish there was more understanding of why pronouns are actually important. I get the sense from a lot of cis people who are older and who don’t have a lot of understanding about queer stuff to begin with, that they think of pronouns as like “something they have to be PC about” and if they use the wrong pronouns I’m going to be mad and offended and they’re going to be sent to pronoun jail by the language police. Like, people approach pronouns by thinking “I need to remember that she uses they/them pronouns, so I need to only call her by them/them pronouns.” 

But actually, I’m asking that they stop seeing me as a woman. I don’t want a linguistic bandaid slapped over internal misgendering. If you can’t internalize that I’m not a girl, then pronouns will continue to be a struggle. I’d rather people call me the right thing than the wrong thing, but I don’t want to only be called the right thing. I want to also be seen as the right thing, too. It’s like one of my friends had a coworker call them by the wrong pronoun and the coworker came to apologize and then was like “alright, see you later girl!” with apparently no cognitive dissonance whatsoever. Pronouns are important, but they’re also not JUST language. Pronouns are important because they signify seeing people authentically. I want people to get my pronouns right, but I don’t want getting my pronouns right to be ALL that people do. 

Also, the idea that trans people are “angry and offended” when you misgender them because everyone is so sensitive and political correctness has gone too far, instead of like “it’s a painful reminder that you never get to just exist as your gender the way that cis people do, that no matter what you do there are always people who’ll use the wrong pronouns—sometimes unintentionally, sometimes intentionally, and it’s death by a thousand cuts” is a whole other rant I could go on. But if I get into how the myth of trans people being “easily offended” is dangerous, unfair, and untrue, we’ll be here all day. 

41. What is the place (blog, website, forum, IRL space) you get most of your info on being trans or on trans related things?

When I was first starting out, I did—for better or worse—get a lot of information from tumblr. On the one hand, I can’t shit talk, because it did allow me access to information that at the time I couldn’t find anywhere else. On the other hand, tumblr is often an ugly place for information (and whatever nonbinary discourse and misperceptions might exist now, it was 38475785 times worse in 2012. good god. just fuckin wall-to-wall trusc*m). I can’t tell you how many “HOW TO PASS AS A MAN (FTM)” articles and blogs I read back in 2012 as well. I absorbed any information I could find about anything, anywhere, because it was not as widely available. 

In the interceding years, I feel like I don’t know exactly where my information comes from. I just absorbed so much of it, wherever it could be found, that I don’t have a strong sense of where it comes from. I’ve watched countless “1 month on T / 3 months on T / 6 months on T / one year on T” videos on YouTube. I’ve trawled transbucket and facebook groups looking at people’s top surgery results. I’ve read lots of articles on fitting clothing and masculine style onto bodies that weren’t necessarily intended for those clothes. 

Spending IRL time with trans people though has been by far the most enriching and healing, though. It wasn’t necessarily where I learned the basics like different methods of top surgery, but it was where I started un-learning a lot of the emotional baggage I’d picked up along the way. 

[Trans ask game! What has been your gender journey?]

#in typical me fashion I gave you VERY LONG-WINDED ANSWERS to theoretically simple questions :p #big gender mood #smittyjaws

[thethistlegirlwrites]

OC Enneagram types!

@nade2308 I haven't been able to stop thinking about doing this since the Enneagram conversation came up in the Discord, so here it is! My seven main characters (sorry, Rowan, I'm not confident enough to type a tree just yet) and their Enneagram types, plus a short explanation and some quotes about their basic type and wing!

Robin - 4w3 As a basic type of a 4, Robin sees himself as fundamentally different from other people. He isn't sure how to fit into the world, since his dual fae-human nature leaves him feeling on the outside of all of it. He feels broken and incomplete, and keeps trying to create a place that he fits. The 4 tendency to imagine a world where they can belong led him to idealize the hunter world and want to join it like his father, despite his grandfather's warnings against it. The 3 side of his personality is also involved in the effort to fit in, to make himself into an acceptable version that people will like. “Fours feel that they are unlike other human beings, and consequently, that no one can understand them or love them adequately. They often see themselves as uniquely talented, possessing special, one-of-a-kind gifts, but also as uniquely disadvantaged or flawed. More than any other type, Fours are acutely aware of and focused on their personal differences and deficiencies...Healthy Fours are willing to reveal highly personal and potentially shameful things about themselves because they are determined to understand the truth of their experience—so that they can discover who they are and come to terms with their emotional history. This ability also enables Fours to endure suffering with a quiet strength. Their familiarity with their own darker nature makes it easier for them to process painful experiences that might overwhelm other types.” “Threes learn to perform in ways that will garner them praise and positive attention.” John - 6w5 John is deeply tied to his roots, following the family tradition of becoming a hunter with no question of whether or not that was what he wanted to do. To him, duty is the highest thing to seek after, and individual personal goals must always be secondary to what has to be done. the 5 side of his identity comes into play in his work; John feels a sense of pride in working from the shadows, knowing about vampires but hiding that secret from the larger world for its own protection. Like his great-grandfather, he's the sort of person who seeks out a person to be devoted to. Until his brother died, Gabe was the tethering force in John's life. After his death, John drifted away from his home, searching for a new connection, but struggling to find it. “Sixes are the most loyal to their friends and to their beliefs. They will “go down with the ship” and hang on to relationships of all kinds far longer than most other types.”Wanting to feel that there is something solid and clear-cut in their lives, they can become attached to explanations or positions that seem to explain their situation. Once they establish a trustworthy belief, they do not easily question it, nor do they want others to do so. The same is true for individuals in a Six’s life: once Sixes feel they can trust someone, they go to great lengths to maintain connections with the person who acts as a sounding board, a mentor, or a regulator for the Six’s emotional reactions and behavior.” “Investigating "unknown territory"—knowing something that others do not know, or creating something that no one has ever experienced—allows Fives to have a niche for themselves that no one else occupies.” Kira - 5w4 Knowing she would struggle to fit into normal society because of her deafness, Kira seeks to make herself important to others by making discoveries and creating new things. She often called on the 5 tendency to rely on their knowledge and curiosity in her classes, and made a name for herself as the smart girl, not just the Deaf girl. Her passion for strange and new fields of study allowed her to keep an open mind when she first learned of the existence of vampires, and also helped her delve deeply into the lore surrounding them when she became a vigilante hunter. As she's grown, Kira has become more in touch with the 4 side of herself as well, accepting her uniqueness and seeing that as a gift. “Behind Fives’ relentless pursuit of knowledge are deep insecurities about their ability to function successfully in the world.  Fives “take a step back” into their minds where they feel more capable. Their belief is that from the safety of their minds they will eventually figure out how to do things—and one day rejoin the world. Fives are not interested in exploring what is already familiar and well-established; rather, their attention is drawn to the unusual, the overlooked, the secret, the occult, the bizarre, the fantastic, the “unthinkable.” ” “Fours maintain their identity by seeing themselves as fundamentally different from others.” Cody - 2w3 Cody is at heart a giver. He grew up being the friend Robin needed, and that was such a formative part of his identity that when Robin left Rowan House to become a hunter, Cody felt adrift. As the youngest child of his family, he'd relied on his friendship with Robin as an outlet for his need to be useful and needed, since his siblings didn't seem to want the nurturing. Since then, he's channeled that into his work, where he enjoys helping people find the information or books or other help that they need at the library. While he's very selfless, Cody is also ambitious, deeply driven to create stories that he can share with the world. His drive to become a published, successful author is the main evidence of his 3 wing. "Being generous and going out of their way for others makes Twos feel that theirs is the richest, most meaningful way to live. The love and concern they feel—and the genuine good they do—warms their hearts and makes them feel worthwhile. Twos are most interested in what they feel to be the “really, really good” things in life—love, closeness, sharing, family, and friendship. Healthy Twos are the embodiment of “the good parent”: someone who sees [people] as they are, understands them with immense compassion, helps and encourages with infinite patience, and is always willing to lend a hand—while knowing precisely how and when to let go." "Threes are often successful and well liked because, of all the types, they most believe in themselves and in developing their talents and capacities. Threes want to make sure their lives are a success, however that is defined by their family, their culture, and their social sphere. No matter how success is defined, Threes will try to become somebody noteworthy in their family and their community." Maira - 9w8 Maira's basic 9 type has allowed her to navigate her world by finding the paths of lesser resistance. She's wise enough to know when to back down and seek another route to her goal, and this has gotten her far in her world. People respect her shrewd 'chess match' movements, but also like her as a person since she has managed to maintain a reputation of being even-handed, understanding, and willing to seek negotiated solutions. But making the mistake of thinking Maira is a pushover is a dangerous one. Her 8 side is strongest when she encounters an injustice or cruelty. Maira has her breaking point, and woe to the person who pushes her over it. "Peacemakers are the skilled mediators and counsellors in a group of friends or coworkers. They work hard behind the scenes in order to keep the group harmony steady and flowing. As children, they knew how to get along with each classmate, making them a great addition to any group project. They can easily see the many different sides to an issue and tend not to jump to conclusions quickly, if at all. Complacent and humble, Peacemakers are stable and gentle, willing to go the extra mile to avoid rocking the boat. Soft-spoken yet firm in their personal stances, they make an effort to neutralize tension and restore group harmony." "Eights have enormous willpower and vitality, and they feel most alive when they are exercising these capacities in the world. They use their abundant energy to effect changes in their environment—to “leave their mark" on it—but also to keep the environment, and especially other people, from hurting them and those they care about. At an early age, Eights understand that this requires strength, will, persistence, and endurance—qualities that they develop in themselves and which they look for in others." Emma - 5w6 Emma's 5 tendency to acquire esoteric knowledge is one of the reasons she's risen so rapidly in vampire society since her turning. She's learned a great deal about herself and her fellow vampires, and she uses that knowledge to her advantage. She's well known for being not only on the cutting edge of knowing what's happening in the city, but for being able to analyze that information and interpret what it will mean for the vampire community and the wider city population. Her 6 side is evident in her formation of a coven that accepts vampires who were not turned by its own members, giving outcasts or vampires who broke free from their sires like her a place of safety. "Fives think, “I am going to find something that I can do really well, and then I will be able to meet the challenges of life.” They therefore develop an intense focus on whatever they can master and feel secure about. Depending on their intelligence and the resources available to them, they focus intensely on mastering something that has captured their interest. Much of their time gets spent "collecting" and developing ideas and skills they believe will make them feel confident and prepared. They want to retain everything that they have learned and “carry it around in their heads.” " "Sixes rely on structures, allies, beliefs, and supports outside themselves for guidance to survive. If suitable structures do not exist, they will help create and maintain them." Arion - 7w8 Arion is perhaps the poster child of the dangerous side of the 7 type. A hedonistic pleasure seeker, he's driven by filling his life with whatever he enjoys. He has acquired a wide range of talents and interests. But his vampire bloodthirst is his most intense drive. Unlike some vampires who control and manage their impulses, Arion embraces them. He revels in the pleasure of drinking real blood, and sees nothing wrong with seeking it out. His 8 side makes him truly dangerous, because in addition to his craving for a life of comfort and ease, he has a powerful drive to do whatever it takes to attain that goal. While he is fully capable of luxuriating in his pleasures, he is also willing to temporarily put them aside in pursuit of one he believes will be even greater." "Sevens are enthusiastic about almost everything that catches their attention. They approach life with curiosity, optimism, and a sense of adventure, like “kids in a candy store” who look at the world in wide-eyed, rapt anticipation of all the good things they are about to experience. They are bold and vivacious, pursuing what they want in life with a cheerful determination. Sevens are compelled to stay on the go, moving from one experience to the next, searching for more stimulation." "Eights do not want to be controlled or to allow others to have power over them. Much of their behavior is involved with making sure that they retain and increase whatever power they have for as long as possible. They often refuse to “give in” to social convention, and they can defy fear, shame, and concern about the consequences of their actions. Although they are usually aware of what people think of them, they do not let the opinions of others sway them. They go about their business with a steely determination that can be awe inspiring, even intimidating to others."

Taglist: @nade2308 @cmvorra @bands-space-and-monsters-oh-my @catwingsathena @asloudasalone @anguishmacgyver @flowing-river24 @myhusbandsasemni @floh673 @teddythecat1234 @bkworm4life4 @viawrites-andacts @amarilloskies

If you want to be added to or removed from my taglist for Magic & Silver stuff, just let me know! (Type description references taken from https://www.enneagraminstitute.com and https://www.truity.com/enneagram/9-types-enneagram) 

#magic & silver #my ocs #robin #angus robinson #john stoker #kira burke #maira lawson #cody dayton #emma cole #arion #enneagram

[bolinshipskorrasami]

Korrasami + Love Languages

Ok, so ever since doing a post about Catradora + Love Languages, I have felt compelled to do one with other OTPs. And since I just finished rewatching Korra, well, here we are! For those unfamiliar with this concept, here is a link to a brief description. (Disclaimer: it has a very heteronormative origin but I really love it as a concept and have personally found it useful in my relationships.)

Honestly, Korra and Asami were much harder to pin down! There’s a lot of evidence for different love languages for them both, but I think I narrowed it enough. It's fun to think about and their compatibility is much higher for sharing love languages, in my opinion.

Korra = Gives: Acts of Service + Quality Time, Receives: Words of Affirmation

Like I said, both Korra and Asami gave me some difficulty pinning things down. For Korra, the difficulty comes with her being the Avatar. Since being the Avatar is so ingrained in her identity - especially early on, before she is forced to examine it more through her PTSD and trauma - it is at times difficult to distinguish between her feelings of duty as the Avatar and her love language to those closest to her.

The reason I finally landed on this is two-fold: Korra is very action-oriented. Her first instinct if someone she loves is in trouble or needs something is to act. See Season 1, when Bolin goes missing, she spends a lot of time helping Mako find him and break him out of the Equalist rally. This shows both her love for Bolin by rescuing him, but also of course her growing crush on Mako. When Asami sacrifices... basically her whole life/world by taking down her father, she also tells Mako that Asami needs him, even though she has feelings for him herself. (From my experience, I think it's a common thing for people with Acts of Service as their love language to sacrifice their own needs for others.)

But Korra also values Quality Time with her significant others and I think this says a lot as the Avatar, whose time is constantly in demand from the world. She goes to the Winter Festival with Mako. She invites Asami on a Spirit Vacation, "just the two of us." She gets upset when Mako doesn't put her before his job. She goes to Asami's office to visit in the comics. Honestly, they are almost always seen together! She even gets a little put out when Asami wants to stay behind and work on designing new homes rather than going with Korra to great the refugees. Fortunately, they are able to smooth these things over with Korra’s receptive love language, Words of Affirmation. Acts of Service and Quality Time, at least for Korra, tend to overlap a lot, as we will see with Asami...

 Asami = Gives: Acts of Service (Quality Time?) + Words of Affirmation, Recieves: Quality Time

Let me start by saying that, I think Asami is probably fluent in all 5 of the love languages, as I could find examples for literally all of them! But I think Acts of Service/Quality Time + Words of Affirmation win out by a lot. Acts and Service and Quality Time are harder to tease apart, as most of them go hand-in-hand for Asami. She invites Mako on a date (where she provides him with something to wear!) and arranges for him to meet and get funding from her dad for the Fire Ferrets. She offers to go with Korra to the South Pole. She does Korra's hair for Jinora's ceremony. After a mild argument, she offers to take Korra out on a "turtle duck date night." She shows up in Season 3 with an airship when Korra gets kicked out of Republic City. She offers to watch over Korra's body when she enters the Spirit World. She also basically rebuilds Republic City while she is pining for Korra (from afar!) for 3 damn years. Must I go on? Her Acts of Service are colored by the fact that she wants to be present with her partners and attend to their needs in very specific ways. She also just... low key wants to spoil them? 

But! Asami is also very fluent in Words of Affirmation - and this is especially great when it comes to her relationship with Korra, and when we compare her fit to Mako's.

Compatibility: High AF

In Season 2, we see Korra and Mako struggle to communicate. I don't think this is any fault of either one of them, but a sign of mismatched needs and expectations. Korra, as a likely ESFP, is an external processor who needs a lot of validation and a partner who can hear her out and build her up. Asami does this well - probably because she understands some of the pressures herself, as CEO of a company, but also because she doesn't have any trouble expressing herself verbally. While Asami may be quiet and low-key, she is observant and very vocal about how great Korra is all the time! Even in Season 1 - "That's ridiculous, you're amazing!" And let's not forget Rememberances, which was a whole 10 minutes of Korra unloading and Asami building her up. I also see this action at work in the comics, when Korra gets a bit defensive at Asami brushing off her protection intially (ahem, an act of love from one of Korra’s love languages!!) - Asami doesn't rise to Korra's sudden hurt and defensiveness, she merely re-frames it for Korra and reassures her that she loves her - by offering Quality Time together, which Korra also values.

Asami herself doesn't want for much - as a probable INFJ, she is very independent and self-sufficient. But I think the love language that resonates the most with her is Quality Time. She attends all of Mako's games in Season 1 and takes him and Korra out on dates frequently during her respective relationships with them.

She states that the 3 years Korra was away were the "hardest in [her] life." When her and Korra grow closer in Season 3, she drops all her responsibilities (ok, she probably left someone very capable in charge) to go fly around the Earth Kingdom with her and practically never leaves her side. The Spirit Vacation clearly means a lot to her, when Korra offers it ("Really?").

Korra is very clearly willing to give Asami as much of her time as she has to give and Asami reciprocates by being Korra's #1 confidante and cheerleader. Not to mention, either one of them would do almost anything for the other. They meet each other's needs quite wonderfully, which is why their relationship is so harmonious, even in the most stressful of situations.

#korrasami #my meta #love languages #lok #korra #asami sato

[forasecondtherewedwon]

Spiderskin

Pairing: Peter Parker x Michelle Jones (Spideychelle) Rating: M (non-explicit sexual content) Word count: 2469 @spideychelleweek​

Spideychelle Week Day 3: Fairy Tale Retelling

Summary: She pulled him in one day, like a fisherman heaves his catch from the sea.

The sky was black with storm clouds and the wet window shrieked and squealed as she hauled it up to reach the figure behind the glass. She knew his face―everyone did―but she’d never seen it here and never like this. His red mask was torn and blood congealed along the jagged edges. Clinging to the wall of her building, he seemed to hold her stare for an eternity as wind whistled in and rain wet her bare feet and the rug beneath them. Then, he sagged over the sill, unconscious.

She pulled him in one day, like a fisherman heaves his catch from the sea.

The sky was black with storm clouds and the wet window shrieked and squealed as she hauled it up to reach the figure behind the glass. She knew his face―everyone did―but she’d never seen it here and never like this. His red mask was torn and blood congealed along the jagged edges. Clinging to the wall of her building, he seemed to hold her stare for an eternity as wind whistled in and rain wet her bare feet and the rug beneath them. Then, he sagged over the sill, unconscious.

Swearing and struggling, puzzled and panicking, she gripped him under the arms and leaned back as hard as she could, lugging him into her apartment. It wasn’t easy and he didn’t come without a thud. She shut the window and paced. His limpness scared her as much as his bloodied face, but she was hesitant to remove the mask. That was his identity. Though seeing his face might solve the question of why he’d come to her, it was something she could never undo. She rolled him softly onto his back, a hand behind his head to offer gentler treatment than it had taken to pull him inside. Those cuts to his face frightened her. Would he revive on his own? Without the mask, maybe he could breathe better, see better, speak better to tell her why he was here, besides the obvious and dire need for shelter.

First, she knelt. Second, she folded the mask back to expose his neck. Third, she felt for his pulse. Strong. Fourth and finally, she eased the mask up to reveal the pale underside of his jaw, his chin, his bruised mouth, his nose that had lately leaked blood from the crusted track left behind. Before she reached his closed eyes, she knew. She knew him. She knew the eyes were brown and kind and that the pain she would see in them when he awoke was not something she would ever care to see again.

Removing the mask the rest of the way, she smoothed his hair and studied his battered face. She didn’t touch him beyond that. She was afraid to. He was a hero who came in with the rain and had transformed into the boy she once pined after in the halls of their school. He might dissolve into a hundred thousand drops of water and soak the knees of her pajama pants as she waited at his side. Could she hold him? Could she keep him? Could she be sure that he was ever here at all? Leaning forward, she allowed her lips to hover, parted, above his for no more than a breath. Then, she leaned farther and whispered his name by his ear. She drew back, observing the slide of his eyes behind their lids. This time, she spoke his name louder and he winced as he surfaced from wherever he’d gone to retreat from the pain. He was strong, she thought, to allow her to coax him back to consciousness.

When he realized where he was, she didn’t see remembrance in his face and decided he must have dragged himself there as the last impulse of a failing body. She made it clear that she couldn’t provide more than superficial treatment, expecting him to admit his mistake or offer further instructions, like the name of someone who could take care of him. She’d like it to be her, but his needs were unclear, his wounds unexplored. He promised her he’d heal on his own and promised again when she requested it, fearful tears coursing down her cheeks. With the assurance that he could move, not without feeling the ache, she clutched him to her and got him as close to standing as he could bear. She told him she wouldn’t let him leave and he accepted it, asking to be submerged in a hot bath. It was possible that her intentions were already what he would later suspect they had grown to become. The trouble and the truth were that she’d rescued him. Now, why should he not be hers?

His breathing was rough and his steps stumbled as she guided him, one hand on his ribs to accept his weight and the other with a tight grasp on the mask she’d retrieved from the floor. With a grunt and a heavy lean into the wall once her arm was no longer supporting him, he assured her he was alright alone. She left him dirtying white tiles and closed the door for his privacy.

The world came back to her when they were apart and she didn’t like it. She gathered what she needed and returned to the place where he’d lain, wiping away the grime and gore, cleansing the smaller, safer world into which she’d brought him. His gashes would close, his bruises fade to yellow and nothing―that was what he’d told her―and there would be no trace of this terrible thing. The sound of the shower drew her back to the bathroom door. He must already be steadier on his feet. One trace, she thought, listening to the water’s interrupted flow as it splattered his body. One trace would remain. But she could remove it.

He'd left the door unlocked at her suggestion, in case he called for help. Well, he hadn’t called, but she would help just the same. Soundlessly, she turned the knob. Heart thumping, she slipped through the slightest crack she could manage. Darting a glance at the opaque curtain that concealed him, she snatched up the suit, the mask, and fled.

What was this thing she held in her hands? That she bundled and secreted to the deepest corner of her largest closet, stuffing it inside an empty suitcase and locking it away? A bad thing. A martyr’s uniform. The fleece of a sacrificial lamb. A spiderskin, shucked and venomous. It had made him an amnesiac of his mortality, an idea that propped him up only to be struck down over and over. His intentions may have been durable, but his apparel was flimsy. She had to intervene before he ran out of chances to get home alive―or to slump through the window of an old classmate for reasons only he knew. Whatever the case may be. The key to the suitcase went into her tiny jewellery box and in his presence, it would never come out.

He staggered from her bathroom wrapped in a towel and cottoned in steam. He was clean, and pliant when she told him to sit on her bed and let her swab his cuts to prevent infection. She tended to his face while his eyes were closed, then his hands with his eyes upon her. Again, she volunteered privacy and left him with gauze and hydrogen peroxide to care for the rest of his body. Outside her bedroom, her face burned to picture it. At her name from his mouth, she re-entered to find him shockingly bare. Sure that it was only weakness that had made him drop the towel, then lose strength before he could draw the covers down her bed, she averted her eyes and lowered the sheet for him, continuing to look away as she took his hand in the firmest grasp she could give and helped him recline. But she wasn’t careful enough. He laid back and, with eyes that told her that letting the white towel fall had been a surrender in a mood beyond weakness, implored her to stay close by. She fell asleep at his side.

Hours later, with light streaming in, she was pleased to learn his recovery was underway. Without a word beforehand, she stripped herself of her pajamas and he rolled to cover her. They made love slowly. This was, somehow, exactly as it was supposed to be.

It didn’t happen once, but every morning before they worked on healing him. She’d found him clothes, though frustratingly, they didn’t stop the single question he posed each day as they laid in the ruin of her sheets, tangled in each other. He would ask where she’d put his spiderskin. She would say it was safe, then ask why he’d come to her. It was at that point that he would tell her that he had known. What it was he had known was something he kept to himself.

He wasn’t a liar; the gashes closed and the bruises turned to mustard, then butter, then nothing, his skin pale again and unbroken. He could walk alone with his back straight and he had a good appetite for the meals she ordered in, neglecting what rotted in her fridge. She no longer had use for the world outside. She had him, and she could hardly take her eyes off him. Since school, he’d only become more handsome. Very quickly, she was in love.

As his condition improved, she noticed something that bothered her. Instead of occupying himself with a book or a show, he would spend long hours looking out her windows. What disturbed her most was when he chose the one through which she’d pulled him that night. Formerly, she had kept the windows cracked open in good weather, but now, they were always shut. For his safety, she told herself. This was nothing. She intensified her efforts to care for him. He was grateful, that was obvious, and he welcomed her touch, sometimes drawing her away from another focus to take her to bed in the middle of the afternoon. All of her longing was to make him as happy as she was.

Her friends were forgotten, her family put off, and the work she did from home all but neglected. She came to feel that she had stopped time to have him here. The choice seemed worth it for their blissful mornings together―before their ritual exchange of questions that went unanswered―and for the satisfaction of devoting herself to his protection. At first, she thought of the key all the time, but eventually, days toppled into weeks and she forgot that he might be motivated to remain for any other reason than loving her back. One evening, they shared a bath. With his arms securely around her as his hands lingered (without protest from her) on the task of soaping her chest, he murmured into her ear that he had used her computer to order her a gift. She turned to him, smiling, and if she could’ve acknowledged that there were other people on earth, she would’ve pitied them.

When the gift arrived, MJ buzzed the delivery person into the building to receive it at her door. With his gravitation towards the windows and the city beyond, she was reluctant to leave the apartment, even to go the short distance to the lobby.

He opened it for her, a box within a box, and she gasped at the jewelled, black flower he withdrew to hang around her neck. Though she considered it perfect, he was upset; several petals had splintered from the flower in shipping. She liked it better that way. Besides, perhaps something could be done with the pieces. It could be fixed. For now, she would keep them in her jewellery box. She whisked them away to her bedroom, unaware that he had followed her. Unaware that his superior eyesight would pick up the silver shine in the top tray of the jewellery box and, from across the room, identify it as a key.

Although they developed favourites in the litany of restaurants that offered take-away, she varied their meals, so it surprised her when he expressed a craving for a food she was unable to provide. But she could provide it, he encouraged her. The only thing was that they would have to buy the ingredients and make it themselves. Hating to leave him, the idea gave her a terrible feeling. However, he had lately been sitting at the window more and more. If this would cheer him up, she would overcome her misgivings and give him what he wanted. She was heartened by the passion of his goodbye kiss and promised a swift trip.

It was a shock to return to the streets of the city she’d been blocking out. She had never been afraid of it, only fearful on his behalf when it had sent him to her, wrung out by the demands of too many dangers and desperate people who would never understand the care he required the way she did. While she selected their groceries, clouds tumbled across the sky. As she paid, they darkened to a deep, ominous blue. She caught a bus home and jumped when rain struck the windows in a sudden torrent. At her block, she pushed violently at the doors and stumbled onto the sidewalk, instinct screaming that something was very, very, very wrong.

As fast as she flew up the stairs, as hard as she hoped, and as fiercely as she regretted ever having left at all, none of it mattered. She burst into the apartment and knew that he was gone. She raced to her bedroom. Her jewellery box sat open and there were clothes strewn across her carpet from where he dug the suitcase from the back of her closet. It sat open and gutted like a clamshell in the middle of her floor. She couldn’t bear to sweep her gaze across their bed, but tripped back out of the room, searching for a sign. When she saw the open window that the rain was now slanting through, she thought that was all he’d left her. As she approached, face already crumpling in despair, she spotted the note on the floor and picked it up before the rain could reach it. Finally, she discovered what it was he had known and never explained to her:

I knew that you would help me, with no questions asked.

I knew that you would love me, harder and sooner than I could ever have loved you.

I knew that I would have to go back, and that it would hurt, and that I was no one’s to keep.

She understood that he would risk his life again. With ceaseless repetition, he would test his two skins until one or both gave way. Heartbroken, she crushed the note in her hand and flung it straight out the window, where the paper would turn to mush and the ink would bleed away. Her chest heaved and the necklace he had given her weighed against her skin. She held the pendant in her hand and raised it for observation. The flower would always be broken. Without its petals, it would always look, more than a little, like a spider.

#my writing #spideychelleweek2k20 #spideychelle #spideychelle fic #spideychelle fanfiction #peter parker #peter x mj #peter x michelle #peter parker x michelle jones #michelle jones

[venusofthehardsells]

Dreamgirl [part 4]

ReaderxBucky Barnes [part 3] Summary: Bucky tries to adjust to his new life in the Avengers compound. One day he meets a girl who might be everything he needs in order to move on, but is his past really that far away? Warnings for this chapter: typical self-hate, not much else this time tbh, (general series warnings include noncon, violence, mental illness, feels probably) A/N: I can’t believe I let you wait this long for a chapter with this little content. Ungh. Like I already said, I have nothing to say for myself. My writing process is about as fast the plot. I’ll try harder to update more, and if you’re still following this story, just know it really means a lot to me!

When Bucky wakes up it’s three am and Steve is still there, fast asleep next to him. Steve’s arm is resting protectively over Bucky and both of Bucky’s hands are holding onto Steve’s T-shirt, the fabric close to ripping in his unyielding grip. He soften his hold a little and looks up to study Steve’s face.

Despite the serum keeping him young, there are a few lines adorning the face of America’s golden boy that weren’t there during the war. They’re faint and few but this close there’s no doubt. The worry has managed to leave its mark on him and Bucky feels his stomach clench itself into a hard little ball. How many of those fine lines have he caused?

Then again, how many lines separate this weary ghost from the bright young man he used to be?

Steve’s presence has had a good influence on him. The last few hours of sleep have been quiet and heavy. He can’t remember the last time he slept so soundly, but he’s sure it was one of those other rare occasions when he was so far gone in his nightmares, Steve had slept in his bed too.

Bucky is pried from his sleep-heavy thoughts when his stomach growls painfully and he vaguely realises he hasn’t eaten anything the entire day. Well, he’s paying for it now.

A headache is forming behind his eyes and his chest feels as though it’s going to implode into the void of his empty stomach if he doesn’t get some food in him fast. The way his throat is beginning to constrict is almost nauseating. He’s always had a healthy appetite and has often gone hungry, both in his youth and during HYDRA missions, but whatever Dr Zola did to him made him less affected by such things as hunger when he was the Asset. It was as if his mind didn’t fully acknowledge the needs of his body. 

Now, however, the combination of his enhanced biology and not being brainwashed makes the hunger close to crippling.

It feels safe and nice to lie with both of Steve’s arms around him, Bucky realises when he shifts a little, and he almost doesn’t want to leave the bed. Steve mumbles something in his sleep and manages to hug Bucky closer so he’s flush with Steve’s entire body, face squashed against his chest.

“Ftoovh,” he tries and rolls his eyes at the muffled sound that’s all he’s capable of producing without chewing on Steve’s shirt. With a bit more determination, he gets his arms in between them and pushes Steve in the chest, harder than he would a normal person, but not hard enough to hurt.

Apparently, the push is still more powerful than he calculated.

With a yelp, Steve rolls off the bed and crashes into the nightstand that goes tumbling towards the opposite wall. Bucky winces, but is on his feet in a second to get Steve up from the floor.

“Fuck, ‘m sorry, Steve,” he mumbles, feeling his cheeks burn. Steve thankfully looks more shocked than hurt and there’s a redness spreading along his cheekbones, too.

“No, it’s… I’m fine, it’s… everything’s fine, yeah.” He nods as if to accentuate the point and it calms Bucky a bit. Then Steve frowns ever so slightly. “Are you okay?”

Bucky shrugs.

“Just hungry,” he says, trying to sound casual. His stomach betrays him by practically groaning just then and the corners of Steve’s lips twitch. Bucky scoffs. “Fine, starving. Do you think there’s anything left of that dinner I slept through?”

Thinking back on the nightmare, he wishes he had gone down to eat instead. Maybe it wouldn’t have been that bad then. It’s wishful thinking of course, but it helps. Admitting that the nightmares are beyond his control is still too grim a reality.

“Oh, there’s plenty we can reheat. Come on.”

Not long after, they’re both sitting in the empty compound kitchen, steaming dishes of a spicy casserole in front of them. It’s the best thing Bucky can remember eating in a long time and he’s through his second helping by the time Steve finishes up his first, significantly smaller one.

“This is real damn delicious,” Bucky comments, gulping down a glass of water like it’s going out of fashion. He’s only just starting to feel better now that he’s got at least two meals’ worth of warm food in him. “Stark hire a cook or something?”

“No,” Steve smiles and scoops another portion onto Bucky’s plate. “Wanda made it. Traditional Sokovian stew, spent forever on it. She put a ton of spices in I’ve never even heard of, but you gotta admit she knew what she was doing.”

“Sure did.” Bucky is a little hesitant about the next bite. There’s something in the taste that he can’t quite place. A warmth, a lingering feeling of… something.

The spices remind him of when he was on the run, of the place he had settled at in Europe before Steve and that SWAT team had torn it apart. Many times during the evenings, the hot smells of food had drifted through the floor and walls from the other flats around him and made him think of the almost forgotten joy of a home cooked meal. 

Homely, he realises. This kind of food tastes of a home, something safe and familiar that he hasn’t had in a very long time.

“It would mean a lot to her if you told her you liked it.” Steve looks intently at him as he says it and Bucky looks down out of reflex. Can’t look Steve in the eyes when he talks like that.

“Okay,” he mumbles with a light shrug of his shoulders, but Steve isn’t done.

“She says you’re avoiding her,” he begins carefully and Bucky sighs, which makes him pause. “What?”

“I’m kinda avoiding everyone in case you haven’t noticed.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t.” Bucky is staring at him now. Steve’s face is turning slightly pink, but he goes on. “Might be good for you to talk to someone other than me. Not everyone hates you, you know.”

The words feel like a punch to the gut and it takes a second for Bucky to figure out why.

It’s the non-sugar coated truth and Steve hasn’t softened his voice the way he sometimes tend to do when it comes to touchy subjects, hell, the way he did a second ago. 

It’s also a surprise.

He has tried over and over to appeal to his logical self with the reasonable assumption that even if Stark and Fury and very likely also Natasha hate him, the others have no reason to. Yet somehow, he realises that he didn’t actually believe it until now. Steve’s words make a splinter of hope ache in his chest.

“You sure?,” he murmurs, raising an eyebrow at his friend who just hums affirmatively and takes another bite of stew.

“Of course I’m sure. There’s still a person behind all that brooding and scowling somewhere. The others know it too. They know it wasn’t your fault.”

“What?”

“Everything that happened to you.” Instead of sending him a pitying look, Steve just shrugs and for a second, Bucky is sure his friend has lost his mind. “Just think about it. I’m not saying you should invite Tony for a fishing trip, just maybe, I don’t know, show up for dinner. Compliment the chef, even if it’s Clint. You know, engage a little more.”

Bucky grinds his teeth behind closed lips.

He engaged with the pretty girl in the coffee shop and now he’s already having bad dreams about her dying. It’s not that he doesn’t want a little more human contact, really. But he wonders if Steve would have suggested it if he knew how many times he had starred in one of Bucky’s bloodcurdling nightmares.

“I’ll try,” he gets out, poking at the remains of stew on his plate with his fork.

“Good.” Steve doesn’t push him further and he’s grateful for it. They finish the meal in silence.

When they get up to put the dishes away and head back to sleep, the soft light of the predawn is beginning to settle outside. Bucky figures he can squeeze in a few hours before heading out for his daily run. He hopes the food and the talk with Steve will make the nightmares stay away for a while.

Otherwise, there’s always the park, and the coffee shop, and the girl…

He finds himself halfway tempted to ask Steve if he wants to go with him for his morning run. They always spar and work out together at nine, but until now, running has been Bucky’s own thing, the only routine he performs in solitude that doesn’t make him feel, well, alone. When he runs, he just exists. No pressure.

Bucky never gets to ask. Steve’s SHIELD pager pings and just like that, the strained tension between them is as thick as it was in the afternoon.

Steve looks at the little device and groans.

“Jesus, Fury…,” he mumbles, rubbing his eyes that have already begun to droop a little again. “Four in the fucking morning.”

“Mission?,” Bucky asks without looking at him.

“Must be. Better be fucking important.” Steve always swears more when he’s tired, slurs the curses into his other words so they’re a part of a sentence-long word and almost not there at all. Bucky hasn’t been on any missions or to any publicity events with Steve since the forties, but he imagines it’s very far from the image everyone is trying to pin on him. It occurs to him not for the first time that his friend is struggling to hold onto his identity just as much as Bucky is. It’s no mean feat considering all the world’s eyes are always on Captain America, the glorified ideal, but hardly ever considers Steve Rogers, the real person wearing the uniform. 

“Hey. Watch yourself out there,” Bucky cautions just when Steve is about to leave. He sends a half smile with the warning to make it sound more casual. Steve grins wearily.

“I will. Careful with the sentiment though, people might start to think you care.”

Bucky scuffs and rolls his eyes.

“Don’t worry, pal, I think everyone knows by now I only care about you.” He shrugs and pats Steve on the shoulder. “I’ll see you when you get back.”

He turns and leaves before Steve can come up with some well-meant words of concern to make Bucky feel like even more of a burden than he already does and trudges back to his room.

It takes him a while of tossing and turning to realise that he's not going to get any more sleep now that Steve is gone. The bed doesn't feel comfortable at all, just vast and empty. He tries to fold the scarcely used duvet into a sort of substitute for another body for him to hold onto, but it still doesn't feel right.

Annoyed with himself, he finally gets up and automatically puts on a pair of black sweatpants from his stack of identical black sweatpants, along with a grey T-shirt and a hoodie. Bucky swallows when he looks at himself in the mirror and realises that this has become as much of a uniform as all his heavy tactical HYDRA gear used to be. Dark sweatpants, dark T-shirt, dark hoodie. Nothing to make him stand out in a crowd or mark him as an individual. 

It suddenly occurs to him that he has been wearing a uniform practically his entire life. He struggles to recall what it was like to wake up and putting thought into what to wear. He must have done it at some point, he knows that much at least. Back in the thirties, even if his family hadn't had two nickels to rub together on a good day, much less anything near the frankly insane amount of clothes people these days seemed to own, he knows there was at least something vaguely resembling choices. There had been a pair of pants, he remembers after wringing his brain, a pair that had been slightly nicer than his everyday ones and which he only wore on Sundays or when he was taking out a girl. They had belonged to his father before he died and Bucky had naturally inherited them, along with some shirts and a tie he rarely had reason to wear. None of it had been made for him, so his mother had had to adjust the clothes the best she could. The pants had still been a little too tight around his thighs, but they meant he didn't have to wear his often dirty work slacks on dates.

It wasn't much, but it had been different. Hell, everything had been different.

He glances down at his black sweatpants now and bites his lip. He'll have to do something about this feeling somehow. The longer he contemplates this new, unintentional uniform, the clearer the Asset appears in his mind. For a second, he almost swears his dark metal hand looks silver again. Then he blinks and the vibranium fingers are back to normal.

Good lord, he can't wait to get that coffee today.

He runs his usual route in the infant daylight, still trying to shake off the nightmare. It doesn’t feel as bad as it has on other mornings, the food and sleep and the talk with Steve has helped. The coffee will definitely help. And moving his legs, albeit mindlessly, that is helping right now, but what Bucky really wants is to see her. Just to make sure she is okay.

The coffee shop is still closed when he reaches it, so he turns back to do another round in the park. Even though it isn’t physically taxing for him, his heart is thundering a hundred miles a minute. What if she isn’t going to be there?, a little, unwelcome voice whispers in the back of his mind. What if you really killed her?

Bucky almost scoffs at himself. There is no way. It was just a nightmare. One of the worst ones he’s had in a while, yes, but still… If he had somehow brought her into the compound, everyone would know. Steve, Stark, Fury, the entire government probably gets daily reports on what he does. Same thing if he had left to go somewhere else. Besides, he never went anywhere or did anything yesterday after getting back, he’s sure of it. He wasn’t anywhere near her, it was just a dream.

Even so, he can’t stop overthinking every single impossible scenario in which he might have hurt her without being aware of it and his heart is sure as hell not slowing down no matter how many calming breaths he tries to take. He needs to see her.

With his bottom lip caught beneath his teeth, he shoots his watch a look and groans when he realises he's still nearly half an hour early. It's going to be some of the longest minutes of his life. Bucky quickly decides he hasn't got that kind of patience, not with how his stupid heart is trying to beat him into a panic anyway. Instead of waiting, he goes back to the place he first saw her, the park entrance. From there, he tries to remember which direction she came from. If he can just see her on her way to work, he knows he'll feel better.

It doesn't take him long to scour the surrounding streets and eliminate the ones that lead to business and shopping districts. It's a guess, but if she had the money to fund one of the few apartments there, she wouldn't have to work in a café. She must live further away.

For a minute, Bucky considers all the tactical and strategic training he's gone through in his days in captivity with HYDRA, but absolutely nothing that can help him out comes to mind. The park is surrounded by too many tall buildings for him to properly see the streets if he were to seek higher ground and he doesn't have any sort of tech except his phone which won't do him any good.

All he really can do is to keep running and try not to get stuck inside his head. Like yesterday, Bucky tries to focus on the movements of his body and the feeling of muscles clenching and unclenching in his legs with every stride. It's something his therapist has told him to do when he needs to calm down, trying to create more awareness of his body and thereby divert his thoughts from any upsetting or stressful factor. Normally, it's good advice, but right now, his body is a part of the problem.

Before his sweaty palms and too shallow breaths end up filling too much in his mind, Bucky forces himself to observe some other detail, any detail.

He settles for the great, big nothing in front of him.

The air.

It’s not the crisp, crystal clear air he loved about the Wakandan sunrises where he would be the only one up and awake to enjoy the quiet, one deep, fresh breath at a time. But it’s still nicer in here, in the park, than outside on the streets. Bucky is not overly fond of the polluted city. He used to be a city boy, sure enough, but that was a long time ago. Whenever he dares imagine himself somewhere else than the compound these days, it’s almost always some version of the hut he had in Wakanda. Most times, it’s the same hut all the way down to the straw roof and spotted goats. Other times, he imagines a small cabin in the woods next to a lake or a faraway little stone cottage surrounded by grassy hills and sheep.

No matter where he sees himself settle though, it’s always somewhere remote with unspoiled air. Sometimes, Steve is with him, and they both look as if the war never happened, but this morning, it isn’t Steve sitting next to him in front of his little imaginary hut.

It's her.

And she's not wearing her work uniform, but a bright yellow dress that matches her nail polish. She has bare, dirty feet and wild flowers in her hair. She smiles when he approaches. He sits down next to her and kisses her cheek. She offers him a strawberry from the basket next to her, freshly picked from their little garden. He prefers to lick the taste from her lips and mouth instead. It's just the two of them there.

His heart soars at the dreamscape for a moment, but plummets just as far when he involuntarily remembers his nightmare again and suddenly, the scene runs red with blood.

Bucky wills himself back to reality and casts another desperate look at his watch.

Less than three minutes.

He wills himself to take the last part of his route at a slow jog despite every fibre in him screaming that he run like hell. When he once again stands in front of the coffee shop, he's about ready to kick down the doors, but right then, the lock clicks, the handle turns and there she stands. Exactly as beautiful as yesterday, if not more.

She looks up at him in surprise, then a smile spreads on her face.

"James," she says happily and Bucky's heartbeat melts into a rhythm of steady calm.

Tags will be added in reblog

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #marvel fanfic

[lalaurelia]

1, 2, 3, 4, 10, 18, and 19 for the meta asks, please :)

Thank you!

1. Tell us about your current project(s)  – what’s it about, how’s progress, what do you love most about it?

Oh. *stares into the void for a million years* Well, the current ones will be Second Chances - and I really want to finally get to the scenes where Jim and Oswald open up more to each other, and are extra soft. And Imagination Infection needs to be finished up, there’s just a chapter worth left, two at best, or maybe one and an epilogue. It just needs to get the final plot reveal.

And I’m currently working on neither, and attempting to write a fix-it to an old story XD

I love the idea behind all of those. Exploring feelings of guilt and struggles with identity. But first of all, I just want to see Gobblepot find love in each other.

2. Tell us about what you’re most looking forward to writing – in your current project, or a future project

I do look forward to that final reveal mentioned earlier. I wonder if it will come as a surprise...

Also, I shouldn’t be spreading myself between dozens of WIPs, but I so want to start on that role reversal AU, and also that fateful meeting story... The role reversal idea seems terribly fun to toy with - how they would meet, how they would interact, their troubles and everything. But it’s mostly in my head now.

3. What is that one scene that you’ve always wanted to write but can’t be arsed to write all of the set-up and context it would need? (consider this permission to write it and/or share it anyway)

I don’t think I shy away from challenges like these? The PWPs can be quite liberating, and I’m also trying to master writing drabbles from time to time, so every idea does get written. The question is “when” XD

Okay, just not to make it too boring, and because I don’t think I’ll get to it very soon, two concepts. One, Jim thinks he sees a ghost. The ghost is Oswald and he’s trying to communicate, say he needs help, and Jim thinks he’s going mad. It has a sci-fi idea at its core though.

The other is a comedy of errors of some kind. Basically, Jim and Oswald fall in love, buuuut Oswald is convinced that Jim has a twin brother, and he only loves one, but not the other XD Mixed feelings, silly situations, all that stuff as Jim pretends to be his own twin.

4. Share a sentence or paragraph from your writing that you’re really proud of (explain why, if you like)

Now this is a little difficult because I don’t often nitpick my writing for paragraphs or phrases and try to see them as a whole, but I guess now it’s this one, from Half-doomed and Semi-sweet, the scene where surgeon!Oswald first meets don Falcone.

“Was it worth the pain, boy?” he asks, his voice almost fatherly, and Oswald feels angry tears welling up again in his eyes. He doesn’t answer the don, and that can only be the don, with demeanor like that.

“You’re proud, and I respect that. But one should know when to bend or he would be broken,” the don says, running his finger over Oswald’s cheek. “You’ll never make head surgeon now. Even an assistant position is difficult for you, although you’re clearly so gifted. But you can still be a doctor, boy.”

Oswald looks at him and he never hated anyone quite like this. He feels hate boil inside him, hot like all hell, for this is the man responsible for his pain even if he never laid a blow on Oswald himself, and Oswald wants to see him dead. The glint in his eyes must give him away, because the don smiles thinly and holds Oswald by the chin.

“Bend, boy. You will work with us, will be our doctor. And we’ll try to remedy the injury dealt you… if you keep your end up.”

The don takes Oswald’s hand in his and it feels like death, the touch dreadful with the promised pain and ruin.

“Otherwise you will never be a doctor again, boy. Hospitals don’t have much use for cripples,” the don says in that fatherly tone again, squeezing Oswald’s hand, and Oswald is horrified, hypnotized by the touch, the images of his fingers crushed in the vicious hold rushing through his mind, and this is something he can’t live with. If he loses his hands…

“What say you, boy? Do you yield?”

“...I yield,” Oswald breaks, and bends his head.

I like this one because I keep hearing don Falcone’s voice when I read it.

10. How would you describe your writing process?

A mess? XD It’s exactly as you said for me as well - when I know where I’m going, when the plot is clear in my mind, it’s so fast and I can’t hold back, it just flows. I could stumble over a word I’m not sure about, but it’s usually so easy. When I have doubts about the plot or don’t have any time to really think about it, it’s a snail’s pace. I could stare at a doc for hours and end up correcting a comma. It used to be easier when I commuted, and then the quarantine happened and it’s been very frustrating since.

I want to try listing key points in a notepad and see if it helps figure out the plots for the stories I’m stalled at.

18. Do any of your stories have alternative versions? (plotlines that you abandoned, AUs of your own work, different characterisations?) Tell us about them.

Sometimes. I liked the concept of Deconsecrated so much I wanted to give it more flesh, and thus came Second Chances. Also, His Demon and His Angel are companion works with religious setting as a starting point, but the roles Jim and Oswald have in each are different.

I try to experiment with characterisation, but I don’t think it comes through, it’s mostly small details. Maybe I should try being a little bolder in that respect...

Things that I abandon are usually those that feel too angsty or too out of character to me. They’re hardly ever full plotlines, more like bits of paragraphs.

19. Is there something you always find yourself repeating in your writing? (favourite verb, something you describe ‘too often’, trope you can’t get enough of?)

I do love my adverbs so XD And details of body language, microexpressions, voice tone, all that. I wonder if they make the text feel heavy to readers?

I’m not sure how much of a trope it is, but Jim tends to suffer a fair amount in my stuff. He’s often plagued by doubts and guilt and things that contradict what he thinks about himself.

Thank you! 💙 💜

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