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#its so frustrating because they do make it easier to focus and its such a relief
sunlightfeeling · 8 months
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in case anyone was curious, yes I am still giffing Blade. Should have a post today (hopefully!)
(see tags for some explanation why they’re delayed and will continue to be)
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me rn
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queenofcoquette · 2 months
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academic burnout
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introduction:
hey loves! recently i've been dealing a lot with burnout. im pretty busy with my schoolwork, studying and water polo practice 2 hours every weekday, and i've just been feeling pretty exhausted. im still getting 8 hours a night but i just feel so tired, so i've been looking into burnout and how to overcome it.
recovery:
get to the bottom of it. try to find the source of your burnout. are you not getting enough sleep? are you studying for insane amounts of time? is it because your goals are too unrealistic?
getting enough sleep. this is easier said than done but during weekends i like to sleep in and even nap sometimes to pay my sleep debt.
taking time to relax/unwind. on the weekends i like to focus on my hobbies- i write, watch movies- but most importantly i just let myself relax and give myself some time to just really do nothing. we can't be productive 24/7!
don't overwork yourself. i know you can't always say no to certain school commitments, but try not to overwork yourself with extra work.
taking a little break. on friday i was so exhausted i just went home instead of going to practice, which i didnt want to do, but i sort of needed it- to have a day to just go home and relax and feel better.
working:
re-think your habits. make studying habits that are more fun and effective.
take breaks. if you're really frustrated while studying, walk away from it and spend 10 minutes doing whatever. i hate putting aside my work, but sometimes i feel so exhausted and it's better to just put it away for a while and then get back to it.
stress-relieving activites. maybe reading, meditation, breathing techniques, etc. try different things and see what helps you relax and feel better.
conclusion:
academic burnout is really a horrible feeling, an its something that can be hard to overcome. as always you should stop yourself from comparing to others, setting goals that're unattainable/unreasonable, and stretching yourself out too thin. i believe in the importance of school but i also know that it's pointless if i'm not motivated enough to work hard. find balance, and with time you'll learn to manage your activities to be succesful while feeling good.
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glossysoap · 7 months
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READY TO COMPLY ; chapter 10/? : инстинкт
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кондиционирование or conditioning is defined as:
a process of changing behavior by rewarding or punishing a subject each time an action is performed until the subject associates the action with pleasure or distress.
warnings/tags: electrocution, choking, violence, panic attacks, hair pulling (not in the good way), memory loss, near death experience.
notes: i literally cannot apologize enough for taking so so long with this chapter !! but i promise i’ll do better in the future because writing fight scenes is what gives me a hard time so now that this is out of the way, it should be easier. thank you for your patience and all of your support! :)
prev chapters here!
word count: 3,200
🏷️: @viylikescats @warenai @briacreations96 @fullmoon-94 @breadboyye @kiroshang @zvdvdlvr @lunitalloronaa @itzzjxlyn @lonely-ofc @m0rganit3 @badbishsblog @wolfyland07 @angelsdemonsmonsters @unkn0wnd3ad @itstokyo-cos @c1rice @venusianlustt @bugonawall @wakusbonkus @shadowycreatormentality @blackrose4242 @blackgaladriel @lilpothoscuttings @thvxr @tapioca-marzipan @luvmeijii @atjamesbbarnes @h-leigh @writingmybeloved @chloeforde @divine--serenity @zittles3000 @thriving-n-jiving @mar-mar-mel @namgification @ivymarquis @crazy-phan-girl13 @goodsoup03 @schaarfyx @rhyanna6012 @abbiesxox @kenz-ee @whateverwhocares6 @sae1kie @thychuvaluswife @elichisstuff @grippingbeskar @cyb3r-4ng3l (excess tags will be in comments)
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The second that the Winter Soldier stomped over to stand in front of you, Rumlow could easily sense your nerves. Anxiety was practically rolling off of you in waves.
The way your eyes widened and your breathing picked up the second that you saw your opponent.
Like a dog with its tail tucked between its legs. Pitiful.
You started by circling each other on the mat, assessing your opponent. Sizing each other up and determining if the other was a threat — but it was clear that your opponent was more of a challenge than you.
The training room was filled with shouts and chants from all of the other subjects. Most were cheering for your opponent to finish you off, to put the new recruit in their place. Others were, surprisingly, rooting for you to prove them all wrong and defeat the long experienced Winter Soldier. They wanted you to put your newfound strength to good use, breaking his bones and putting him through a wall or two.
As the heckling filled that room and echoed off the walls, your handler could tell you were getting distracted. That you were getting thrown off your game even more so, if that were even possible.
You tried to focus on blocking your face and dodging any potential hits from your opponent, jolting out of the way whenever his fist darted out.
It was painfully obvious to anyone that you were an amateur, refraining from making any blows or punches. Instead, sticking to guarding your face and upper body from any hits.
Rumlow’s eyes narrowed into a glare when you dodged your opponents jabs, your body all jittery and full of nerves as you side stepped any hit.
Every time your opponent attempted to punch you, you would dodge and block his hits by jabbing his forearms.
After a minute of evading, you finally went on the offensive and decided to cut him off with a punch of your own. Across his nose, against his jaw, anywhere you could get your fist on.
It didn’t take him off of his feet or knock him out, but if the blood trickling out of your opponent’s mouth was any indication, it still caused some damage.
You capitalized on that momentum and stepped up your attacks. After every punch you landed, you delivered a swift kick to either one of his legs in an attempt to throw him off guard.
Your opponent let out a grunt any time your fist made contact or your foot came down against his legs. His jaw clenched both in pain and anger, clearly frustrated at you finally fighting back.
Your hands moved back up to guard your face when you noticed your opponent’s icy glare narrow on you, his jaw clenching as well.
Only, he took that opportunity to punch you in the place that you weren’t guarding - your abdomen. Thankfully your stab wound from weeks prior was already healed, but it still delivered a hell of a shot.
It might not have caught you off guard so bad if it wasn’t with his metal arm, but it was.
At first, the gut punch just made you recoil ever so slightly. But that’s all it took for him to use it to his advantage and send more punches and hits to your stomach.
“Fuck!” You cry out in pain.
The hard metal arm combined with the pure force and super strength that stemmed from decades of the serum was enough to send waves of pain radiating throughout your body.
Pain grew and bubbled in your abdomen with every hit, making you double over and consider tapping out. The air got knocked out of you each time his fists made impact to your body, making you gasp and lurch forward. Your heartbeat pounded in your ears, the pounding mixing with the shouting of the other subjects.
Your mind wavered between the first possibility of fighting against your much more experienced opponent, and the latter possibility of surrendering while you still could. In the end, your self preservation instincts won out and you reached your hand towards the mat. Fingers shaking and stretched desperately to the mat.
Your hand was only a few inches from the mat, ready to waive your white flag when suddenly you were yanked from your hunched over position. Your sight blurred as you were pulled from the ground, the darkness of the uniforms became black streaks in your field of vision. The metallic glint of your opponents arm and the harsh lights on the ceiling mingled, making you flinch at the brightness.
His metal hand was wrapped around your throat and he squeezed and squeezed, pulling you up to your feet. Your hands scrambled and pushed at his chest and shoulders, desperate to steady yourself as he manhandled you. Your feet stumbled to rise to a standing position, boots scraping and scuffing against the rubber mat.
He used the iron grip on your throat to pull your face up to his and force you to look at him. His icy blue eyes staring into your (eye/color) eyes, his narrowed with anger and yours rimmed with tears.
You gasped for air as he walked the two of you back to the wall behind you, all the way until your back slammed against the hard wall. He shoved you against the cold wall, still having your throat in a vice like grip. He had slammed you so hard against the wall that your ribs ached and pulsed, and your head bounced off the wall.
Pain flooded through your brain and burned behind your eyes from the impact of your head hitting the wall. Each breath you took made you wheeze, your lungs aching and ribs bruising.
His metal hand tightened and he applied more pressure on your windpipe, and he squeezed. You clawed and swatted at his metal arm in an attempt to pry his hand off of your throat.
The subjects’ yelling that once distracted you was now drowned out by your heartbeat pounding in your mind, and your ears ringing from the lack of oxygen.
Your vision continued blurring and you choked, throat constricting on pure instinct to try and harness any sort of oxygen but to no avail.
Your eyes widened when you suddenly felt your feet leave the floor and dangle inches in the air, as he held you up by your throat.
You could feel your limbs grow heavy as you tried hitting his arm, his chest, anything you could reach. Your legs felt like lead as you thrashed and tried to kick your opponent.
You were going to die.
That was all you could think of as black spots filled your vision.
You were going to die all alone, in this cold, mean place. You would die without ever getting any answers as to why you were here, and what your life was like before you got here. Did you have parents? Did you have a family? Any friends? A partner or spouse? Any children?
Whose cerulean eyes were those that kept flashing across your mind? Whose voices were those that kept echoing in your head? Albeit, they were distorted and made your head ache whenever you heard them. But it was just another question you would never get the answer to.
Because you were going to die here.
As your eyes began fluttering shut, you could only take solace in the fact that you would be free from the torture you had endured for months.
Across the room, Rumlow ground his teeth and his nostrils flared as he watched the pathetic excuse of a fight.
In that moment, all he could think of was — that was it?
This was who HYDRA spent their resources on? This pathetic ball of nerves is what they spent hundreds of thousands of dollars on? This is what they spent months of precious time and effort on?
What a waste.
He decided that you were going to cooperate whether you wanted to or not.
As he held that small black remote in his hands and grazed his thumb over the red button, he knew exactly how we would get you to cooperate.
He stared at your scrambling figure held in a chokehold against the wall, your hands trying to pry your opponents hand off of your throat. As he saw your eyes unfocus and begin to flutter shut, he knew he wouldn’t have much time. So, he pressed the red button.
The moment that the button was pressed, an electric current was sent from your neck all the way down your spine, and down to your toes.
Your eyes flashed open and you cried out in pain, eyes watering and voice cracking.
The jolt of electricity struck through your body, setting your spine aflame and burning through every nerve and vein that ran through your body. As the current ran down your spinal cord, you involuntarily arched your back against the wall in an attempt to quell the pain.
When the current hit your neck, it consequentially traveled to the metal arm of your opponent, shocking him as well.
Your opponent sucked in a harsh breath through his teeth, wincing at the shock running through his metal arm.
As if burning his hand on a hot stove, he instinctively recoiled and took his metal hand away from your neck. You dropped to the floor, nearly crumpling onto the mat as you grasped your neck. Immediately you gasped for air, desperately gulping down oxygen to ease the burning in your throat and lungs.
Your ears popped and the shouting returned to flood your hearing, multiple other subjects urging you to get up.
You blinked rapidly to clear your blurred vision, shapes of people and machines becoming more defined with every blink.
You gasped and heaved with every breath, tears pricking at your lash line. Panic flooded your veins as your eyes darted from person to person, subject to subject and soldier to soldier.
The subjects’ were all still shouting and yelling. Their voices pierced your mind, adding to the already pounding headache you were suffering. They were laughing at you, at your pathetic attempt of a fight. They laughed and heckled at how easily you were taken out, how weak you were. They spat and flung insults at you — wearing sneers as they yelled about what a waste you were. How you were a waste of super soldier serum, that you couldn’t even win a fucking match.
The soldiers were just staring at your gasping form, looking down at you — literally and figuratively. They looked annoyed, almost disgusted as their eyes trailed up and down your body. Their eyes were narrowed as they stared down at you, noticing all of the injuries that you had gained so easily. They looked at you like pure scum, like you were just a piece of gum stuck on their shoe.
As you looked, you noticed a new figure in your periphery. It was your handler, Brock Rumlow. He was standing in the inner circle of the subjects, at about ten feet away from you. The expression he wore was nothing compared to the subjects or soldiers. His face was twisted in pure rage, and it sent chills down your spine.
His eyes had darkened and his brows were furrowed, eyes narrowed into slits as he glared at you. His jaw was clenched, the hard muscle pulled taut as he ground his teeth. His nostrils flared. His hands were balled into fists at his sides.
“09012020. Up — now.” He barked out your serial number, voice full of gravel and disdain.
You couldn’t bring yourself to move, no matter how much you screamed at your muscles and joints to obey. You felt frozen in your slumped over position against the wall, the same wall you had been choked against a mere minute prior.
You could feel his dark eyes burn into your head as you remained in your slumped over position. Your brain tried to send signals to your nerves and muscles to get up, to move, to do something — but you couldn’t make yourself get up to your feet. Not only was your nervous system trying to recover from being fried with electricity, but it was also enduring anxiety and panic. Down to every nerve, every cell in your body, trauma was being ingrained into you with every waking moment that you were in this hell hole.
Only a few seconds passed before you heard boots stomping on the mats, making you look up to see your handler had come to stand in front of you.
His expression darkening even more so, mouth pulling into a snarl and brows furrowing, was the last thing you noticed before he grabbed a fistful of your hair and used it to pull you off the ground.
“I said, up.” He all but growled.
You cried out as pain bloomed at your roots, eyes clenched shut as your scalp stung and burned. You could even feel some hair follicles being pulled out.
You stumbled to your feet as he kept a tight hold on your hair, tears pricking your eyes. Merely the action of being yanked off of the ground by your hair was reminding you of your opponent, who had yanked you off of the ground by your throat just minutes prior.
That same opponent was standing a few feet away from you and your handler, still clutching his metal arm from the electricity coursing through it.
“Now,” Rumlow muttered, still pinning you with a glare, “put up a fight.” He nodded towards your opponent, before letting go of your hair and taking a few steps backwards.
Your opponent walked towards you once again, shaking his prosthetic arm in an attempt to shake off the sting from the electricity.
He steeled his expression once more, holding his fists in front of his face in order to block any of your attacks.
You blinked away the tears and quickly wiped them away with a shaky hand. You locked eyes with your opponent once more before taking a few steps towards his hulking figure.
The first thing you noticed about him was that his eyes were no longer narrowed at you, he wasn’t glaring a hole into your head. His jaw was no longer clenched and his lips weren’t pulled into a snarl. His face was just blank, with no mark of expression or emotion. No anger or happiness. His eyes were just staring at you, waiting for you to finally attack him like you’re supposed to.
His body was perfectly poised and ready to defend himself, arms raised and hands balled into fists.
You were just about to throw a punch when another jolt of electricity ran from the microchip in your neck, all the way down your spine. You cried out in agony and your back arched when the sharp pain reached your spine. As the electricity hit each nerve and muscle, it felt like someone was wrenching a knife into your back and twisting it.
The tears you had just wiped away were now running in waves down your cheeks once more, burning your tear ducts. Your lips were bleeding with how much you were biting down on the sensitive flesh.
Rumlow released the button on the remote begrudgingly as he watched your quivering form, your lips trembling and tears running down your cheeks once more.
“The more you waste time, the more I use this,” he drawled, holding up the small black remote up for you to see. Almost taunting you with it — the fact that the little remote could hold so much power over you. “Your choice.”
“Okay, okay, I will.” You nodded rapidly, sobs still racking your throat. You just wanted to appease him and discourage him from using that damned remote again.
You exhaled and made your first move, willing your mind to focus on your opponent and just making it out alive.
You decided on a different approach, desperate to gain the upper hand. Instead of just showing all of your cards and making it painfully obvious that you didn’t know what you were doing, you would try and throw him off.
You acted like you were going to hit with a left hook, which prompted him to use his right hand to block you. At the last second, though, you grabbed his right hand and pulled him to you so his back was to your chest. While you had his arm in your grasp, you used all of your strength into twisting his arm behind his back and pulling it until it was at an impossible angle. You pulled and pulled at his arm until it gave a nasty crack.
He howled in pain. You didn’t stop there, though.
You held his arm in place with your metal arm, while you pushed him onto the floor with your right arm. He all but crumpled to his knees as you continued to apply hard pressure to the injured arm, before he then fell forward onto the mats.
You straddled his back, keeping him in place with your knee sitting on his injured arm. He let out a muffled scream against the mat as you put more weight on his injured arm, grounding your knee even harder on the broken bone.
You capitalized on this opportunity to take him down and make him tap. You grabbed him by his brown hair and yanked his head up from the mat, ignoring all of his cries and yelps of pain. If anything, it just fueled you further.
You wrapped your metal arm around his neck and immediately started squeezing. Your lips pulled into an almost pleased snarl as you watched him choke and cough just as you had just minutes prior. You watched his mouth sputter and gape open as he tried and tried to gasp in air, but it never came. You could even feel his throat try to expand, his adam’s apple bobbing up and down almost in sync with his coughing. His eyes were rimmed with red and glossy with tears.
They were wide with panic and unadulterated fear, as he got to feel exactly how you were feeling — choked within an inch of your life and powerless to escape.
Utterly helpless and alone.
As your eyes were glued on his face, you felt the corners of your lips pulling into a smirk. Seeing his face painted with terror, his lips shifting to a shade of blue and his eyes unfocusing as he became oxygen deprived, sent a sick wave of pride to your heart.
Good.
You spared a single glance up to your handler standing a few feet away. You locked eyes with him, your bloodshot eyes staring into his dark eyes. You squeezed your metal arm even harder, pulling another choking gurgle from your opponent’s throat, and you kept your eyes on your handler the whole time. As he watched you choking the Winter Soldier within an inch of his life, you could’ve sworn you saw your handler gulp.
The sound of your opponent’s palm slapping against the mat almost didn’t register to you as you kept holding his neck in your metal arm. You kept staring at your handler as your opponent tapped out, desperate to escape from your hold.
You gave one more final squeeze of your metal arm while holding your handlers’ gaze, your nostrils flared and eyes narrowed, before finally releasing your opponent.
next chapter
©️ glossysoap 2024. please do not steal, copy, plagiarize, translate, or repost any of my works without my permission. do not steal any elements of my theme without permission.
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tealfloyd · 1 year
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DOG ON THE RUN!
"Gotta catch MC's new pet~"
SUMMARY: MC is kindly asked forced by Crowley to dog-sit for a stray dog found in the NRC, who likes to constantly run away. (Everyone x Fem!Reader).
WARNINGS: Nothing more than jealousy (over a dog).
CONTENT: Most of the guys being petty over a dog. Again, I didn't have any ideas for Ortho :( Crowley dumping his responsibilities onto you, again. A little Malleus x MC moment at the end but it's very short. Also, no mentions of Crewel :( WORDS: 6K+
A/N: Sorry, this took so long, I was busy with some things and had to focus on that for this week, so please excuse me if this work ended up being a bit messy.
I was planning to do it with a cat at first, since I have two cats, but decided to go with a puppy because it's way easier for them to run away, in my opinion, because I also had dogs.
Now onto the fic~
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 “I can’t believe I got tricked by that crow again…” You muttered, looking for the little being that was now freely running through the halls.
You were wondering how you got into this situation to start with, remembering the earlier conversation you had with the so kind headmaster a few hours ago.
A FEW HOURS AGO
“You called for me?” You asked, entering the office after hearing a ‘come in!’ from the headmage, looking around its disastrous state. “By the Sevens, what happened here?”
“Oh, MC! You arrived just in time!” He exclaimed, a tired smile travelling up his features as he looked for something down his desk. “Would you mind helping me here?”
You approached, crouching to look down the desk. “What did you do this time?” You asked, gaze wandering for whatever he was looking for.
"Your words hurt me, Prefect, I'm a very diligent—" He was offended at first, but upon seeing your cold glare he let it pass, a little scared of this action. "I was checking on the well-being of the students as part of my diligent routine, when I stumbled with this little dog."
Your eyes widened at that. “A puppy? What is a puppy doing in this school?” Using the flashlight of your phone, you tried searching for him, but he was nowhere to be found. “I don’t see anything."
“But he must be here! There is no other way he could get out unless…” He glanced at the opened door, and a heavy sigh left his mouth. “Unless you left the door open…”
“He can be anywhere at this point, puppies are very energetic," you said, standing up while you stretched a bit because of the uncomfortable position. “What are you going to do?”
“Well, I need to take care of something important, so you will need to take care of this," heading out, he started waving, shooting you a grin. “I’m counting on you, Prefect!” And with that note, he left.
“Wait, I have plans with Grim-!” You yelled, checking the empty hallway with no signs of Crowley. “This bit—"
And that’s how you ended up in this dilemma, having to look for a lost puppy and at the same time taking care of a grumpy cat, who was walking with you to look for it (‘unwillingly’, as he says).
“Why did you drag me into this? I don’t want to make part of your… Whatever-you’re-looking-for quest!” Grim whined, tiredly walking with you as his eyes struggled to stay opened.
“It’s not like I accepted, I really wanted to take a nap too, but if we want to eat nicely for another day, then we must do this," you felt bad as Grim kept yawning, an idea suddenly popping on your mind. “Do you want to rest on my back? I’m sure it will take a while before I find him”.
He didn’t make any sound, hazily nodding before climbing on your back, leaving you to look for the creature in silence, making the task a bit more complicated.
Fortunately, you spotted him when you turned the corner, invisible to some of the students that were exiting the Mirror Chamber, who left the door opened enough for the little being to hop onto the delicate room.
“Wait—" You were suddenly reminded that you weren’t alone, as your cat companion yawned one more time before drifting off to Dreamland, shutting up in frustration.
Running as quietly and steadily as you could, you finally made it to the door, encountering the happy puppy as it decided which colourful door he should pass through.
When you were just about to reach him, he decided to jump onto the Heartslabyul mirror, leaving you with your arms hanged on nothing as you let out a quiet scream.
“How can such an adorable creature be so mischievous?” You whispered. “Wait, that’s Floyd…” You thought, finally crossing the Queen of Hearts portal.
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EXHIBITING NOW IN: HEARTSLABYUL
The landing in Heartslabyul was abrupt, so you had to quickly balance yourself so you wouldn’t fall on the land.
“Couldn’t have chosen a more confusing dorm…”
Every time you visited Heartslabyul, one (if not all) of the dorm members had to guide you so you didn’t end up lost; so how were you supposed to find a puppy, which had tons of energy, in such a wide maze?
Well, obviously, for cases like this, you had to rely on luck; and that’s exactly what you did. You turned every corner carefully in order to catch the little animal, and someone up there must like you because just when you were about to exit the maze (by accident, of course), you heard some barks and a high-pitched scream.
Running towards the noise, you found a pretty hilarious yet scary scene.
Trey holding the puppy, which was covered by cake and other deserts; Riddle stood next to him, a tea stain on his usually clean uniform, all while Ace was laughing his ass off and poor Deuce trying to do something to help. Cater tried to record the whole thing, but immediately stopped upon seeing the wrath in Riddle’s face.
You decided it was time to intervene, approaching with stealthy steps, keeping your distance so the noise wouldn’t affect Grim’s sleep. “I’m sorry guys, I didn’t intend to disturb your tea party."
Retrieving the creature from Trey’s hands, you lightly scolded him, trying to ease up the mood. “You’re lucky you’re adorable, if this was Ace’s or Deuce’s doing they would be cleaning windows because of this."
After this, everyone stayed quiet, a blush creeping up their faces as they registered the cute scene in front of them.
Riddle’s wrath dissipated a little after you appeared, thing that is very much appreciated by everyone present. But a new feeling started to blossom in his interior, that being jealousy; not that he knows about this though, he’s never had a crush before, so it’s a new, and certainly a very uncomfortable experience, for him. His face is red, but for different reasons now; he wishes the one you’re cradling and saying sweet compliments to is him, and he knows it’s stupid of him to feel like this because of a dog, but he can’t help it. Maybe this ended up in a good matter because now you’re paying him attention (mostly because you’re concerned; after all, he’s really red).
Trey is, unsurprisingly, the chilliest one of the five. He’s Heartslabyul only hope in terms of appearing normal. He doesn’t feel jealous of you interacting more with the little being; this actually enforces his teasing, but how can you blame him after you did something so cute? Answer: You can’t. He helps you clean the animal, and from the outside it seems like you both are taking care of your little dog son. He is all down for domestic stuff, so naturally his face becomes the slightest shade of pink at the innocent action, making some light chat to ease the mood.
Magicam better be prepared, because Cater is about to create a whole new section on his profile about you and your pup companion, called: “The cutest animal and the cutest Prefect <3!”. There isn’t anything that anyone can do to stop this; you all must wait until the storm is over. In fifteen minutes, he uploaded around 100 photos and videos of you and your canine friend just… Existing. He isn’t bothered by the fact that you are paying more attention to the dog than everyone else, at first. He looks through the pictures and that’s when he notes that he has never been nestled in your arms before… And now he has a new objective.
Ace is offended, because how dare you pay more attention to something that isn’t him? He can’t function properly if you don’t talk to him, but he knows that he can’t just retrieve the puppy from your arms; even if he seems nonchalant, he really wants to make you comfortable, and that action would make you mad, and what’s worse, mad at him. Though he has to admit that the scene it’s pretty adorable and wholesome; and unbeknownst to him, he took a liking to the creature, playing with him a little. It ends up being a win-win situation: you are happy, and he gets attention.
Deuce had a hard time processing the situation. Like, he just saw this dog jump onto the table out of nowhere, and then you appear claiming it’s yours. His mind first tries to comprehend how did a dog get into the school in the first place, also commenting about the fact that he can’t believe the headmaster dumped his responsibilities onto you again. He doesn’t get jealous; why should he be jealous over a dog? Ace had to explain to him why he should be outraged by this, but he doesn't get the point of it, saying it was just a dog and that there wasn’t any harm try to learn something from him.
You stayed to help clean the mess that your newfound pet had caused, insisting to the refusing boys that it wasn’t a problem.
Grim must have been really tired because he didn’t wake up after all the screaming and barking, soft complaints leaving his mouth, probably a result of his dreams.
You were cleaning the tablecloth, which had a huge tea stain on it and some smudges of the previous disaster, sighing at how difficult it was to clean them off.
Ace was bothering you as always, and Cater was on his phone, one of his clones helping the others as he uploaded the remaining photos. Everyone else was organising the garden.
It was then when you heard a bark, turning your head towards the noise, finding that the puppy was following a butterfly, running towards the mirror.
You excused yourself, apologising as you ran too, following the surprisingly fast dog.
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NOW EXHIBITING IN: SAVANACLAW
You passed through the mirror, glancing at the dark room to try and spot him, and sure enough, his next choice was Savanaclaw, happily hopping on it.
You sighed, hopping in as well to try and chase him faster. It didn’t help that Savanaclaw was overbearingly hot, having to stop for a few seconds in order to catch your breath.
Those few seconds were enough to lose sight of him again, and you sighed at it, deciding to walk further into the King of Beasts territory to find him.
It didn’t pass much time before you did though, finding the little creature sitting on one of the lounge’s couches, looking at something, or more like someone.
You shifted your glance towards the person he was looking at, and you were met with a growling Leona, who immediately sensed your stare, turning to look at you in the eyes, grumpily approaching you.
Ruggie was also there, a frown adorning his face as he glared at the oblivious puppy, while Jack tried to comprehend what was a dog doing in their dorm.
“There you are," you said, starting to walk towards the pup, leaving the three of them shocked. “How are you so fast? I wouldn’t be surprised if Crowley fed you batteries."
“Sorry if we interrupted you, it wasn’t our intention, right?” You shook a little his little paw, making an apologetic bow at the three students, who stayed in silence; this time, much longer than the Heartslabyul guys, and you thought that seeing a dog had somehow affected them.
Yes, but actually no.
Leona had to process for a second that, one: there was a dog in his dorm. And two: that dog was apparently yours. He’s not a cat, but he’s still a feline, and seeing the little canine sitting so relaxed on a couch of his territory made him mad; and on top of that, it seems you like this furball better than him. He won’t admit he’s jealous, and even if he looks snappy, he still respects women, and wouldn’t dare to say something that would make you mad instead. He just waits for you to stop being so cutesy and attentive of the little being, so he can be the one you’re paying attention to.
Ruggie is wary. Hyenas aren’t felines nor canines, though they are closer to the feline family. That’s one of the reasons he’s wary of this dog, and also because it appeared out of nowhere and already claimed the couch as his own. He’s surprised when you said that you were taking care of the pup, ears deflating a little because that meant you couldn’t be with him… To run some errands, clearly. Overall, he isn’t that jealous, more like annoyed, but he dissimulates it pretty well, so you don’t know he’s upset in the first place.
Jack isn’t jealous in the slightest. He’s a fan of canines; he loves sporty and energetic animals, and for him, the dogs are the epitome of this description. Like Deuce, he doesn’t know why he should feel jealous over a dog, being the only one among this group that can interact adequately with the canine. He taught him some cool tricks, and that actually sparked your curiosity due to his natural training skills, cooing at the adorable scene. He immediately backed up, cheeks burning while saying that he was just trying to control his energy, continuing to caress the little being.
The atmosphere in Savanaclaw was heavy; partially because of the two beastmen that were fuming over you paying more attention to a dog than them, and the remaining one being pretty excited about this.
Thank you Jack for being the only one with common sense over there.
You decided to stay for a bit, mostly because you and Jack were trying to train him, oblivious to the ominous stare that both his dorm leader and unofficial vice dorm leader were sending to you.
For their like, the dog ran away, probably because the heat. And for their dislike, you had to chase after him.
Quickly excusing yourself, you followed his trace, having to run and soothe Grim because he was starting to wake up, lulling him to sleep once again.
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NOW EXHIBITING IN: OCTAVINELLE
“How can he have so much energy…?” You said out loud, tired by the constant chasing.
You spotted the dog faster this time, following him to the next dorm, which was Octavinelle.
Though the difference was that you actually caught it before he could start wandering around the dorm, lifting it up to check on him.
“Really, you have to stop doing this, I don’t think I can endure it any longer," you lightly scolded, sighing softly when the little creature tilted his head, not understanding anything you just said. “I think it would be easier if we return to, AH—"
You couldn’t help the yelp that you let out, recognising the person who would always lift you up upon seeing you.
“Shrimpy~! I didn’t expect to see you here today!” Exclaimed Floyd, hugging you, and by consequence, Grim, who woke up exalted because of this.
“Nyah?!” He jumped off straight to the floor, thankfully falling on his feet. “What are we doing here?!”
“You forgot? I came here for him," you signalled the puppy, but Floyd didn’t take notice of this, thinking that you were in his dorm to see him specifically.
He didn’t put you down, rather choosing to bring you to the Lounge as he carried you like a cat, leaving a puzzled and annoyed Grim behind.
Less to say that you couldn’t make it through the mirror.
Azul was confused. He was trying to finish some paperwork on his office, when Jade said that he should come out to check on something. He was prepared for anything but this. He gets why Floyd brought you, and he also understands why he is holding you like a cat, but what he doesn’t get is why you’re cradling a puppy. Even if there aren’t puppies in the sea, he knows about them, but isn’t very versed when it comes to interacting with them. He’s jealous, yet he doesn’t demonstrate this, the only person knowing about this being Jade who would totally use this as blackmail, sorry Azul. His mind has two sides; jealousy and using this as promotion because: Prefect plus a cute puppy equals earnings.
Jade is taken aback. You always manage to surprise him, don’t you? He will gratefully take every interesting action (or any action in general, as long as it involves you), and this one was a pleasant one for sure. He was cleaning some tables when Floyd appeared, about to ask what made him took so long when he spotted you, holding a puppy. He couldn’t even ask as Floyd was saying that he was the reason you came to visit, making him raise a brow in amusement, deciding that it was worth telling Azul to come and see. He isn’t jealous, since it’s just a puppy, and although it’s cute, it isn’t anything he should be worried about.
Floyd totally didn’t saw the puppy at first. One of his talents is recognising you after a few seconds of seeing you, and that’s all it takes for him to focus on you and forget about everything else. He was so happy when he thought you said that you were there for him, only for it to be crushed after you explained the whole story. He’s mad at the puppy; how does he dare to steal his Shrimpy’s attention? He should be the one getting compliments about being cute and receiving kisses! In fact, he doesn’t hold back, and demands the same thing he thinks he’s been deprived off, so all I got to say is… Good luck partner.
That puppy should be grateful you’re the one holding him, because you’re the only one that can protect him from Floyd’s grasp.
When he finally let you down, you understood that you weren’t going anywhere, sitting on one of the tables as Jade brought you your favourite drink.
It’s not like you didn’t appreciate it, you did, but it you wished it would have been under another context because having three boys intently staring at you and your puppy companion wasn’t the best scenario.
Azul and Jade sensed your discomfort, and in an effort to ease the mood started to ask some light questions regarding the situation.
You responded them, being able to multitask as you kept the puppy secured in one arm while one of your hands caressed Floyd’s hair.
When Grim entered the Lounge, it was the moment that said creature decided to leave, wiggling out of your grasp as he sprinted outside the dorm.
You stood up abruptly, sighing once again at the inconvenience, lifting Grim and running as fast as you could to catch him and also to escape Floyd.
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NOW EXHIBITING IN: SCARABIA
You were grateful about Vargas classes now, since you were able to outrun the enthusiastic eel.
It seemed like the puppy wanted to go to Scarabia next, because as soon as he jumped out of the Sea Witch dorm he hoped into the land of the Sorcerer of the Sands.
“Hey! I demand you put down right now!” Yelled Grim, making you realise you were still holding him.
“Oh, sorry," you did what he told, putting him softly on the floor. “I can’t believe he ran away again…"
“He was probably scared of all those shady mermen," commented the cat, who was scratching his back to get rid of the sand. “I was having a good dream too…”
You felt bad, coming up with a new suggestion. “We can still have that nap after all of this is over, if you want."
He sighed, looking like he was about to reject the offer when in reality he did want to spend some time with you. “Fine… I can’t believe we still have to find that nuisance—"
A yell coming from inside the dorm was heard, enough to interrupt Grim in the middle of his complain.
“Jamil! I found a puppy!”
“I don’t think we have to search anymore”
Kalim is the one paying more attention to the puppy. He’s immune to jealousy when it comes to something so adorable like a pup, and he’s a huge animal lover, so combining that with one of his favourite persons in the world is a huge yes for him! It’s literally the human version of a puppy interacting with a real one; it was so adorable that you actually had to record it, saving it on your gallery as one of your favourites, smiling at the wholesome scene. He plays with him a few more minutes until he realises something: he can spoil this dog, and you can be sure that if Kalim was the one owning the dog it would be living his best life.
Jamil was alarmed. Since the yell was so loud that you and Grim heard it, he checked on Kalim at the speed of light. He sighed in relief because he found that he was okay, but in annoyance too because he didn’t need to be so loud. You had to explain to him what a dog was doing in the school, and most importantly, what was he doing in his dorm. He understood the explanation; it’s a universal fact that Crowley dumps his responsibilities onto you, yet he still feels a bit uneasy about leaving such creature that came out of nowhere in his dorm, even under your charge. He doesn’t feel jealous, but he is indeed wondering how is it that a dog gets better treatment than him.
Scarabia was by far the chilliest dorm to stay. No discussions, no exaggerated reactions (maybe Kalim at first, but you can’t blame him for screaming after seeing something that cute), just you five enjoying life.
Grim fell asleep again, resting on your lap as he snored quietly, making you chuckle, caressing his fur.
The puppy also was asleep, far away in his dreamland where he was, for once in the whole day, completely calm.
It was a strange feeling, but it wasn’t an unwelcomed one as you all took a collective breath of fresh air, only for the moment to be interrupted by said puppy, who seemed like he still had energy left, standing up abruptly to run away, again.
Your hopes were crushed as well, also standing up, accommodating Grim so he was in a more comfortable position, walking towards the dorm you guessed he will be off next.
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NOW EXHIBITING IN: POMEFIORE
“I hope my instinct is right…” You muttered, passing through the mirror to see a trail of paw marks leading to the Fairest Queen dorm.
You followed the trail, now much faster because he was leaving paw marks in the beauty dorm, and you could only imagine the wrath of Vil if he found out that such a disarranged dog was causing a mess.
You were rounding a corner when you found that someone caught him first, that someone being a familiar hunter that was inspecting the creature, fawning over his cuteness.
You couldn’t even say hi because he was greeting you with his usual smile, asking what brings you here, completely ignoring the fact that he was holding your dog like a cat.
“Ah, actually, I came here because of him," you pointed at the dog, careful to not drop Grim in the process. “I’m sorry about the mess, it’s really hard to keep track of him when he keeps escaping."
You retrieved the dog from his grasp, making an apologetic bow for the disaster to which he responded that it wasn’t a problem.
You were about to leave, stopping when Rook invited you to stay, and you would have said no if Vil and Epel didn’t appear.
At least he is getting a free spa treatment.
Vil is displeased at the sight. How can you hold something that it’s so… Messy? He doesn’t get how you don’t worry about your clothes or your skin making contact with such a dishevelled animal, and it’s not like he dislikes dogs, it’s just that he prefers them to be clean and polished. He understands that you like him the dog, everyone does; after all, dogs keep being the trend in Magicam because of their adorableness, but do you really have to cuddle him like it’s your baby? He would let you cuddle him if you asked! Not even caring if his makeup is ruined because of it, that is if you asked…
Rook finds this situation so beautiful. He loves dogs and finding one happily wandering through the halls was a great surprise, lifting him up to inspect him; oh! So this adorable creature is yours? How splendid! His charming chère and one of his favourite animals? Such an exquisite combination of both beauty and cuteness! He can’t feel jealous over this, how can he? As long as you’re happy there’s nothing he should be intimidated of, instead choosing to bask in your comforting and warm presence.
Epel feels jealous, but this is a special ocassion because he is jealous of the dog and you. The dog because even if he doesn’t want you to think he’s adorable, he still wants those compliments because they come from you, but at the same time he is jealous of you because he is a huge dog lover, and he wishes to cradle that little puppy like you are doing now. Just pass him the dog and everyone will be happy... For a few moments because there is no way Vil’s letting Epel mess up his perfectly clean uniform with dog fur, much to his annoyance.
Your stay in Pomefiore was prolonged because Vil refused to let your companion go looking like that (also including Grim), so he brought you three to the spa.
He had some pet shampoo, mainly because he wanted to use it on Grim as a method to prevent you catching something, since he’s always with you, so all that was left was apply it.
He took care of the puppy while you took care of Grim, who was putting up a fight after feeling the first drop of water.
Rook had to help you while Epel was passing things for both you and Vil.
The scene felt very domestic, and all of you were enjoying the process. Well, Grim being the obvious exception.
After drying and grooming your pet and talking cat, you thanked them for their help, starting to walk back to Ramshackle, thinking that this was finally over.
Oh MC, cute and naïve MC, how bold of you to think that.
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NOW EXHIBITING IN: IGNIHYDE
“You had me running the whole day, what do you have to say about it?” You asked the puppy, who only barked in response. “Apology accepted."
“What about me?!” Grim yelled, impatiently tapping his manicured foot on the ground.
“Yeah, I accept your apology too," you scoffed, still caressing the now shiny fur of the dog.
“How dare you bath me without my consent?! That’s illegal!” He proclaimed.
“I didn’t want to say anything, but you were starting to smell just a little bit. So it’s a good thing Vil decided to give you a bath," he gasped, offended at the accusation, staying silent and pouting as a way to ignore you.
“Don’t be mad, we can still continue to watch movies on that old TV I foun- WAH!—” You had to pause, trying to register the pain on your shoulder after the puppy jumped off of it, leaving you dumbfounded.
“Again?!” Grim whined, paws covering his face in frustration.
“No time to complain Grim, we better chase after him."
You both crossed the mirror leading to the dorm of the Lord of the Underworld, spotting the pup in seconds, bee-lining towards its dorm leader, who had decided to pay you a visit after Ortho finally convinced him to go to your dorm.
“Idia! Catch him!” You screamed, and although the pup wasn’t very big, he had strength, making Idia fall back due to the impact and the surprise.
Idia was scared. He was on his phone, using it as a method to distract himself from the fact that he was indeed going to visit you, when he heard a yell. Feeling something colliding against his chest, he fell on the floor out of shock and bad reflexes. You had to quickly lift the dog, who was searching something on the bag that he was holding, realising later that it was because of the beef jerky he previously bought. He likes dogs, but this was certainly a point for him to like cats a bit more; he can’t stand dog people, but he guesses you can be the exception you're totally the exception.
You immediately lifted the puppy up, apologising to Idia for the troubles, helping him stand while you still held the animal.
Idia rebooted for a few seconds before noting that you were holding his hand, hair combusting into pink flames at the action, unconsciously pulling it back.
You bowed at him, saying that you were very sorry that this happened while Grim was cackling in the background, making the boy even more flustered.
He wondered if you would think of him as weak since he couldn’t even catch a dog, barely talking in order to not embarrass himself further.
You reassured him, explaining that this dog was very energetic, trying to make him feel better about himself.
It worked a bit, after he let out a frustrated sight, saying he was going back to his room, awkwardly waving you goodbye, wishing to scream onto a pillow out of frustation.
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NOW EXHIBITING IN: DIASOMNIA
“Did you see how he fell? I can’t believe he couldn’t catch a dog!” Grim was still cackling, making you huff in anger as you stared at him.
“I don’t find this funny, Grim," your cold tone made him have shivers down his spine, and he knew it was better to avoid your ire than fuelling it.
“Yeah, yeah, whatever, can we finally go back to sleep now?” He asked, and you nodded, opening the door to get out of the Mirror Chamber.
You should have guessed it by now, but it seemed that the dog wanted to explore the last dorm, managing to wiggle out of your secure grasp to hop onto the Thorn Witch realm.
“Are you kidding me?” You stated, whining in exasperation as you started to walk towards the Diasomnia portal.
“Good luck on your own," said Grim, leaving the room, deciding that it was too much effort for zero results, leading you to chase after the puppy alone.
And now you’re starting to realise that that dog may be fearless because he wasn’t scared in the slightest of Diasomnia’s gloomy and dark ambience, making your work more difficult.
Though the one that made it easier was none other than the King of the Valley of Thorns himself, picking it up in curiosity as the people behind him were shocked by this.
Malleus was amused, and then enraged. He has seen plenty of dogs in his life but has never interacted with them; they were intimidated by his mysterious aura, running away in seconds, yet this one stayed, which made him more curious about it. He comes to know why is that when you come to pick him up, explaining that you were in charge of him for the day, or maybe for the rest of your life. Light thunders started to form, the reason behind being his jealousy. Why won’t you compliment him and caress him like that? Is it because he’s not a dog? He could turn himself into one if that meant having your love and affection, and no, he’s not joking.
Lilia is delighted by this! Who would have said that such an adorable dog would find his way into a villain’s school? He literally snatched it from your arms, intentionally ceasing the thunders since Malleus calmed down after this. He treats him like a baby, and he can’t help it, it’s just so cute! He wouldn’t even get the opportunity to be jealous, it’s more like he’s jealous he can’t have a pet. Don’t let Lilia even think about getting him a homemade snack, because he will be more than willing to give it to him, so make sure to grab him before he teleports to the kitchen.
Silver is happy about this. He can’t feel jealousy when the dog is the one reaching up to him; he’s an animal attractor, and the puppy wasn’t an exception, so you let him be when you noticed he wanted to be with the knight, cheerfully barking at him as a sign of appreciation. If Crowley lets you keep it (which he probably would since the probabilities of him taking care of him are low), you are sure you’re going to visit Diasomnia with him, that way you will have him and Malleus under control.
Sebek is jealous of the dog because it takes your and his lord Malleus attention, period. He doesn’t think this animal is worth of you nor Malleus, though he only interacted with him once and then moved onto Silver so he just looks at him in discontent until you let the dog be with the second year student, which he also doesn’t appreciate much but it’s better than having you fawn over such a weak creature, it’s definitely not because he wants your compliments, definitely not- In fact, how dare you even think something like that human? Don’t you know that-
You sighed when Malleus took hold of the little being, amazed and relieved it wasn’t scared of him, sharing a mutual curiosity.
The puppy went from Tsunotarou’s hands, to yours, Lilia’s and then finally setting on Silver’s, happily licking his face as an affective gesture.
You sighed, feet hurting because of all the exercise you did today, an idea forming in your exhausted mind.
“Tsunotarou, can I ask you a favour?”
MC, he would cover up a murder for you and then blame it on himself if you asked, so of course he can do you a favour.
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LASTLY, EXHIBITING IN: RAMSHACKLE
“Thank you, Tsunotarou," you said, breaking the hand holding, thankful for the teleport ride. “I would invite you for tea or something, but I’m kind of tired and I still have to watch over him."
Some grey clouds were starting to form, stopping abruptly at your next sentence.
“But you can come tomorrow, Riddle gave me a tea set and I’ve been meaning to use it."
His eyes widened at the invitation, lips forming a gentle smile. “I will be pleased to assist your tea party, Child of Man."
“Great!” You exclaimed, hearing a little yawn, coming from the tired puppy in your arms. “It seems like you've finally burnt out," you chuckled, waving your hand at the tall dragon fae as you closed the door. “Thanks again, please take care."
And with that, you finally closed it, making you sigh in relief at the end of the adventure, sitting on the sofa next to a sleeping Grim, silently laughing at the cute sight.
“Now that I think about it…” You looked at the puppy, who also looked at you, tilting his head. “You don’t have a name, do you?”
The only response you got was a little whimper.
“What do you think about ‘Goofy’? After all, you’re pretty goofy yourself, aren’t you?” You tickled his belly, and he let out a cute yawn, nuzzling into your lap. “Goofy it is."
Your eyes started to drop, also falling asleep with your cat companion and apparently new pet.
THE END~
DON'T REPOST.
EVERY CHARACTER BELONGS TO DISNEY AND YANA TOBOSO AND I DON'T TAKE CREDIT FOR THEM.
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eris-snow · 2 months
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8. 𝐒𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐀 𝐆𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭
Tags:bakugou x fem!reader, juxtaposition, detective bakugou, hacker bakugou, fluff in the midst of angst
There’s a light at the end of the tunnel. One must grasp it before the tunnel caves in.
January 6 20XX
You have to give Katsuki credit, because the dude was dedicated. Not only that, but he could do things that you found difficult with ease. Such as, well, talking to someone.
"Aizawa-sensei says that the foolscap was outdated from 10 years ago. Apparently, it was the same ones he used when he was in U.A. It spanned a good ten years, so at the very least, they haven't walked off the fuckin' earth and died yet." The ash blond announces, flopping on the ground next to you. It was the first day officially back from winter break, but Katsuki was as unfazed as ever.
Back when people were still being potty-trained, Katsuki was practising hours a day on the piano in between kindergarten and card trading with the guys. That's what made him the best, and half of you was glad to see that part of him was still the same.
Focus, you tell yourself. Now isn't the time to get distracted!
"They could be anywhere in the country. With my luck, anywhere in the world." You counter. "Or maybe the one with my condition has poofed out of existence—"
"Stop it with that," Katsuki knocks his knuckles against your forehead, making you reel back at the contact. "People stop writing for all sorts of reasons. They could have cracked the code, or had a fallout, who knows? Shut up and be optimistic. I can't afford you spiralling."
You make a face at him. "You've changed."
"I'd be an asshole if I didn't." He replies, not missing a beat.
You're still an asshole, you want to point out, but you hold your tongue. He's trying to help you, after all.
"Any idea of what course they were in?" You ask instead. "It'd be easier if it was a hero, high profile is good."
"There's a phone number on the paper—"
"That has been changed and is unavailable." You finish. "It's a dead end."
Katsuki huffs, folding his arms. "It's a lead."
You snort loudly, holding back your laughter. "You've changed a lot—"
"And you're an idiot." He refutes. "You can track a phone even after its number is changed. I can get a hold of the IMEI number—"
"What are the chances of someone keeping a phone for over a decade?" You scoff.
"What other chances do we have of finding these pieces of shit?" Katsuki counters.
Biting the inside of your cheek harshly, you sigh. He has a point.
February 20XX
The plan, unfortunately, did not work. Either someone had used the phone beyond repair, or it had already been destroyed.
Brilliant.
Katsuki lets out a growl of frustration. It took him a month to find out how to track this guy. A month. And yet you were no closer to finding these grown-ass men.
It was around that time that you started to bring newspapers of that time to the hall, scourging for any clues relating to that incident.
"If only we just knew what course this guy was in..." You mutter, consuming yourself with the papers.
Katsuki stands by the curtains with an unamused expression, hands full of yearbooks as he watches your eyes scan the papers with an immense amount of focus. He's come to know you for months at this point, and has started taking note of little things about you because the more he looks at you, the more he finds.
Like how you bite your lip whenever you're nervous, bite the inside of your cheek when you're irritated and tuck your hair behind your shoulder when you lie.
Like how terrible your piano playing is but you still continue, like how even though what you've been through is more mentally taxing than anything on the battlefield, you still—
It takes Katsuki a second that he's been staring at you for way longer than normal before he unceremoniously drops all the yearbooks on the ground with a loud thud.
You jump like a startled cat, glaring daggers at him as you scramble to get your newspapers away from him. "What the fuck, Bakugou."
His mouth coils into a pleased smirk. "Jokes on you, I'm going deaf. What was that?"
You groan, and it makes Katsuki's confidence ignite. There we go. This version of you, he can handle.
"What's the yearbooks for?" You ask instead, nearing the dusty stacks of bounded paper before flipping through them.
"I managed to round up the yearbooks from the people who still used this piece of foolscap when they were in school." Bakugou plops down on the ground with you. "It's just ten years. If we can go through every class and see if anyone has photo fucked with—"
"Photo fuck?"
"Has the same photo issues as you."
You raise an eyebrow. "Not one of your best works, Nickname Wonder."
"Whatever. Find someone with consistent photo issues throughout their time in U.A and we might be able to narrow it down."
"..."
"..."
"Seriously, photo fuck—"
"Shut it."
"Hey man, where are you going?" Eijiro bounds up to him like he'd shitted rainbows, and as much as he appreciates the ball of sunshine cramped into every cell in his friend, he did not want to deal with him now.
Still, he replied. "Training."
"Sick! I was just thinking of—"
"Not today." Katsuki picks up his duffle, checking the clock. "Meeting the nerd at Ground Beta. All Might wants to try something. Gotta run—"
"You've been real busy lately." Eijiro cuts off, blocking his path. "Look, me and the squad don't want to push, but...don't overwork yourself, okay?"
Katsuki almost snorts. Yeah right. Overworking himself was Izuku's job, not his. A tight schedule didn't mean a messy schedule. He'd planned enough time for sleep, eating, internship, training and hunting down people who may or may not exist.
He was being productive, not stressed.
" 'm not overworking myself," Katsuki mutters, sidestepping his red-haired friend as he walks out of the common rooms.
"Well, I'm here if you wanna talk things out!" Eijiro calls.
Katsuki gives a grunt as a response as he pushes the door open.
It's not like Eijiro would remember anyway.
The list of possible victims is done by the end of the week, and Katsuki takes the liberty to go for a slow walk around the school to hunt down his teachers and interrogate them. He'd like to say that he's made a good amount of progress, but Katsuki doesn't lie.
The entire procedure is pretty much a coin flip. He can confidently eliminate one or two, but can't ever be sure for the remaining. Were they just forgotten with time? Did they drop out? What if they went undercover?
A handful were even in the General Course, and getting in touch with those alumni was even more difficult.
"Look," Aizawa stares at him tiredly. He looks like he's on his 5th cup of coffee and that his eyebags can carry weights of lead. "I see you from Monday to Friday non-stop. I wish to be alone on a Saturday morning so I can mark your papers and get them back to you on Monday next week. So for God's sake, get out of my face."
"I'm trying to save someone." Katsuki prevents the door from closing with his foot, staring up at his teacher with raised eyebrows. "And from what I heard, heroes don't get breaks. Let me in, Sensei."
Aizawa squints at Katsuki. He may have lost his leg, and pretty much his quirk, but Katsuki's still sure that Aizawa kicks ass. All Aizawa had to do was say the word, and he'd get booted out.
Wouldn't be the first time.
Even so, his teacher lets him into his lair of unwashed coffee cups and Post-it notes wonderland. Katsuki doesn't bat an eye.
"Doesn't ring a bell." Aizawa shrugs, crossing names off.
"Nothing? Cause this guy was in your class." Katsuki yanks out a yearbook and slams it on the table, flipping to the bookmarked page.
On it, is a class photo of 17-year-old Aizawa surrounded by his classmates all those years ago.
"It's been a decade and a war," His teacher snaps. "Give me a break."
As his teacher's eyes survey the picture of his youth, Aizawa's finger hovers over one person's face.
"Oh, I remember him."
Katsuki's breath catches.
Aizawa-sensei trails his finger down to the names, circling the name of the face he'd pointed out that was streaked with blotchy ink.
Imasu Saito.
"He was one of the top students in our year, until his third year. Kept disappearing after class and even ditched. Dropped out right before graduation."
A thin thread circles the name, bright red just like his eyes.
This isn't just a throw-away line.
This was a lead.
"Tell me about him."
Surprised by the sudden interest, Aizawa continues. "I don't know. Last I checked, he was still living with his parents. Could be anywhere by now."
Heat burned in his throat. This could mean something. "Kenji Tanaka," Katsuki urges, iterating the name carefully "Did Saito...know Tanaka?"
Aizawa gives him an unamused expression. "Flattered to think you expect me to remember my classmates' names. And to answer your question, I wasn't even aware that there was a Kenji in my class. Now looking back, I doubt I ever interacted with him at all."
Katsuki groans, slamming his head on the table and sending paper scattering everywhere.
"Fuck humanity. This is what I get when I try to be a little fuckin' nice."
Well, a lead's a lead. Best to take advantage of it, no matter how small.
Aizawa raises an eyebrow, slides a hand to the mini-fridge and cracks a can of Red Bull.
He offers it to the blond wordlessly.
Katsuki swipes it from Aizawa's hand.
Best fuckin' teacher ever.
Katsuki shares his findings with you when he plops down in the hall later that evening, and you take turns to share yours.
"There's this guy that made headlines for one news issue." You show him the newspaper, and on it, he reads it out loud.
"20-Year-Old Claims The Existence Of The Non-Existent: The Hottest Flat Earther Theory."
Katsuki almost crumples the sandy paper in his hands. His mouth feels just as dry.
"Bullseye."
"Despite the catchy opening, it didn't do well. The news didn't stick, and there are no follow-ups in the issues before or after it." You push the paper down, causing Katsuki to look into your eyes. "This guy was—"
"Imasu Saito." Katsuki finishes, watching you nod in agreement. "A name. We have a name."
Katsuki looks at the decomposing tabloid, seeing gold. "Alright, spit it out. How did you even manage to find this? There were so many companies and articles—this isn't even from a big-name company. This could have taken years to uncover."
You wriggle your fingers together, shrugging. "Let's just say being invisible has its perks. And the internet. No one bats an eye towards me when I went through their archive."
"Their?"
"It's a long story."
Shrugging it off, Katsuki refocuses on their task. They have bigger fish to fry.
"We need an address." You tell him. "Do you have an address?"
Snorting, Katsuki gives you his most 'are you crazy' look. "Who do you think I am? God?"
"No, you're Katsuki Bakugou," Your eyes sear with confidence. Katsuki's felt that look somewhere. The pure, raw, doubtless look of trust behind those eyes.
He's definitely seen it somewhere before.
"You've risen from death and beat someone twice as powerful as you. You've bounced back from setback after setback. You're the winner of the Sports Festival and the top in Battle Simulation, and you've hacked into systems with firewalls so strong people on the other side of the screen think you have a Tech Quirk. You can find one measly address."
Well, when you put it like that, what is Katsuki supposed to say? Deny?
Puffing up his chest, he levels your gaze.
He can do this.
He can do this, and he will.
A week to the end of February, there's a text from Bakugou captioned "Look, at what I've got, you little shit."
On it, is an address of a residential apartment.
25 February 20XX
Katsuki could only get a permit to leave school on Friday, so it's the tail end of February when you leave school. It was only at this moment, did you allow excitement to swell in your chest. You're making progress. Much more progress than you had in years.
It was enough for you to start believing that there was hope for you after all.
And Katsuki was helping you.
Plugging the address in the GPS leads you both to your destination 30 minutes of U.A., and as you stand in front of a door with a fist raised, you glance at Katsuki.
He gives you a subtle nod.
Closing your eyes, you knock.
Please let him be home, please let him be home, please—
The door creaks open, and the door chain clinks as a lean man with lengthy limps peeks out. His eyes are cobalt blue, and when he looks at Katsuki, he squints.
"What do you want, kid?"
Wordlessly, Katsuki points to you, as if it explained everything.
All the trouble it took to find this stupid goon's house, led to one too-tall man that looked like he had survived a trainwreck.
Sunken eyes hollow, eyebags prominent, and body far too thin.
The man's orbs widen as he blinks rapidly, only just noticing your presence, even though you're standing right in front of him.
"Are you Isamu Saito?" Your voice is small, as if any louder would cause the floor to fall out from beneath you. "If so, I'd like to talk to you about this."
Rifling through your bag, you pull out the decade-year-old foolscap encapsulated in a file.
He just stands there, blinking, unflinching, mouth falling agape.
The door slams in your face.
At first you think that he wasn't who you'd assumed he was and that you had somehow gotten the wrong house.
But before the panic can sink in completely, you hear the door chain jingle as the door opens wide. The man's gaze of you is pitying, and he speaks directly to you for the first time.
"I'm Isamu Saito. Please, come inside."
.
.
.
8 Months, 2 Weeks, And 2 Days Until Time Of Death.
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rhoorl · 8 months
Text
Delta Landscaping
Chapter 1: Welcome to Torrey Hills
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It's here.
Series Summary: In this Triple Frontier AU, the boys start a landscaping business post-Colombia.  
Series Masterlist
Rating: Explicit (18+). Not this chapter necessarily, but a blanket statement to this whole concept.
Chapter Summary: As much as we want to get to the thirst, there is some setup we need to do.
A/N: I first have to thank the amazing @goodwithcheese because, without The Layover, this idea would not have come to life. This entire concept was born from a scene in one of her chapters. 
This AU stays true to cannon in some aspects (Tom is dead y'all) and not in others (the boys kept some of the money and Frankie does not have a kid). There is a main storyline, but also opportunities for extras/drabbles/asks … maybe a guest post or spin-off? I've included some Easter eggs and jokes throughout, some more obvious than others. From its conception this has been a group project, so let’s keep that energy going!
Finally, a big thank you to @gemmahale (our Technical Supervisor for all things plants and protective wear) and @trulybetty (the creator of our logo) for listening to my ramblings and for their advice and encouragement along the way! @patti7dc also contributed a hilarious idea for a commercial that had me cracking up.
Ok enough of my rambling, on with the show…(I hope you like it!)
_____________________
There's something kind of magical about when an idea finally comes together in your mind. Different thoughts, images, and words swim around in your head, some of them unconsciously, until they finally coalesce in the depths of your brain and bubble up. Going from abstract to clear and defined.
Benny had been grappling with forming an idea for months. It was right there, he could feel it. But it frustrated him because it never came together the right way. 
_____________________
Nine months earlier
In the immediate aftermath of Colombia, the Delta Force boys tried to process what happened, each in their own way. Santiago took off for a few months traveling on his own, finding solace in discovering new places. Frankie came back with a renewed focus to get his life together, talking to a therapist Will recommended to him and going to weekly meetings. The more quiet and reserved one of the group, Will continued to find ways to help other veterans. He volunteered at the local VA and shuttled veterans to and from medical appointments. He found driving to be soothing for him – having a set path, a direction to go in, and accomplishing something. Sometimes his passengers wanted to talk, sometimes they didn’t. He was comfortable either way.
And then there was Benny. He needed to keep his body in motion to try and silence the whirl that went on in his head. Fighting helped. He continued training, getting booked for local fights in Tampa, sometimes making it over to Orlando or as far as Jacksonville. At first, it helped him numb some of the pain. He felt like dealing with physical injuries was easier than his mental or emotional ones.
When he wasn't fighting or training, he found himself returning to a love he had as a kid – drawing. At first, he didn't really draw anything in particular, just doodles. But eventually, his doodles started to form beautiful landscapes and vistas…pulling inspiration from places he had seen during his time in the service. The activity brought him a sense of calm, using his hands to concentrate and make something. It didn't have to be perfect or beautiful, it just was.
Months passed and the guys just sort of existed in this newfound reality. None of them really talked about Colombia to each other, leaving the hurt and pain largely unspoken. Benny, Will, and Frankie would see each other often throughout the week. Santiago would FaceTime occasionally depending on where he was in the world. Although the guys kept some of the money from their mission, none of them had really spent it. Benny never did end up buying that Ferrari.
One day while driving back home to the apartment he shared with his brother, Will decided to take a detour to drive through a few different neighborhoods. He and Benny tossed around the idea of buying a house together, even going so far as visiting some open houses together to check things out.
This neighborhood, Torrey Hills, was particularly beautiful, with a palm tree-lined entrance and expansive water fountain greeting you on the drive in. Will aimlessly drove around taking in the Mediterranean-style architecture. Lots of two-story homes, stucco and white brick, raw iron and metalwork. There were some ranch-style homes sprinkled throughout as well. He noticed one in particular that had a for sale sign – 319 Mulefall Court.
Parked on the street, he grabs his phone to do some quick research. He checks on the price of the house first, a lot lower than he was expecting just based on the looks of the neighborhood, which he confirms once he looked up some recently sold homes nearby.
"What's wrong with you?" He mumbled toward the house, wondering why it was valued so much lower than everything around it.
The housing market in Tampa was pretty competitive, something Will and Benny had already realized. Oftentimes by the time they found a house they both liked it was already under contract or had multiple offers. They conveniently kept the fact that they could pay cash for literally any house they wanted from their realtor; they wanted the house they chose to be special.
Will continued looking over the specs of the house. Four bedrooms, two and a half baths. Two-car garage. Pool. Pretty spacious backyard from the photos and from what he could see from the street. A beautiful, old oak tree in the front yard. He noticed there weren't too many photos of the interior of the house or much of a description. 
Normally, he would text a listing to Benny to get his thoughts, but this time he went straight to calling the realtor’s number on the sign. The realtor, Ethan, picked up and was a bit surprised someone wanted to talk to him about that property. It had been sitting for a couple of months without an offer, so Ethan was eager to set up a showing for the next day.
When he arrived home, Will saw Benny sitting at their kitchen table, head down over his notebook with a pencil in hand.
“Hey man, what’re you doing?”
“Nothing just got an idea for something,” Benny said, not looking up.
Will heads to the refrigerator to pull out a beer, grabbing one for his brother as he goes to sit down in the chair across from him.
“D’you have a good day?” Benny asks, putting down his pencil and grabbing the beer from Will.
“Yea, Mr. Jacobs seems to be doing better.” Will pauses to take a swig of his beer. “So…I saw a house today.”
“What?”
“Well, from the outside. I have a showing tomorrow morning if you want to go.”
“Yea, where is it?”
“You know that Torrey Hills neighborhood? It’s in there.”
“Wooo, that neighborhood is nice! Are you sure you want to go all fancy?” 
“It is a nice neighborhood for sure, it seems quiet. This place looks like it needs … some work.”
“How much work?” Benny is a bit skeptical of what his brother may be getting them into, but trusts that Will wouldn’t do anything too rash. 
“It’s going to be a project.”
“A project? 
“Yea. The house has been sitting for a couple of months,” he said as he fished out his phone from his back pocket, pulled up the listing, and handed it over to Benny. “Look, I figure we go in and take a look to see how bad it is. You know how much shit we built with Dad back in the day. We can even call Joel to see if he thinks it's doable for us to fix it up ourselves.”
Benny looks up from the phone and gives a little smile as he hands the phone back, “Sure, man. Sounds good.”
Will and Benny could buy any house. But rather than buy something brand new, they wanted to buy a house they knew needed a lot of love and care. They wanted little projects they could work on, either together or by themselves. 
______________________________
As the guys walked through the threshold of the house with Ethan in tow, they realized they may be biting off more than they can chew with this place.
“Shit, how long has this place been empty?” Benny asks as he looks around. 
“Well, the house was built in the ’90s and had the same owner for about 20 years before it became an Airbnb,” Ethan said as leaned on the kitchen counter. “Then, some guy bought it, trying to do some real HGTV-type shit in here. Bought it before the pandemic, but didn’t realize how much work goes into a complete flip, you know? It’s not like the TV shows. Anyway, he ended up getting in over his head with it and then the foreclosure happened. He left the place an absolute goddamn mess,” he gestured around. “The neighbors have been on my ass to get this place sold. The curb appeal is kind of bringing down the block.”
Will quietly walks around the living room, his mind working through logistics. He comes into the kitchen where Benny was checking out the cabinets and appliances.
“Ethan, can you give us a minute?” 
“Yea sure, I’ll be out in the backyard, y’all take your time,” Ethan said as he attempted to open the glass door leading out to the back porch. Struggling, he decided to head back out to the front door and unlock the fence to the backyard.
“So, what do you think?” Will asked, arching his eyebrows.
“Psh, I don’t know man, this is kind of a shit hole, right?”
“Yea, but like … we could do this. Maybe get Fish to come over and we can demo the inside. Start from scratch?”
“We should call Joel.”
Their cousin was a contractor in Texas, so he would be able to give them his honest opinion of whether or not they could do this. They ended up calling him on FaceTime so he could see what they were dealing with.
“I mean, it’s not gonna be easy or quick, but I think y’all could do it,” his low Southern drawl reverberating in the empty living room. “Plus, when you’re all done I can come out and inspect it for you. Sarah has been bugging me about taking her to Disney,” he laughed.
“Oh hell yea, that would be awesome!” Benny lit up starting to see how it could all come together based on Joel’s suggestions.
Will hadn’t seen his brother get this excited about something in a while. 
“Ok, Joel. We’ll talk to you soon … tell Tommy and Sarah we say hi.”
“Later guys.”
Hanging up and looking back at Benny, who still had a smile on his face, Will clears his throat. 
“So, what do you think? Should we do it?”
“You already know what I’m going to say!”
“Alright, let’s go talk to Ethan,” Will says motioning to the front door. 
Coming out of the front door, they head out around the right side of the house, picking their feet up high to walk through the overgrown grass and weeds. 
“This fence looks a little rough,” Benny observed, jiggling one of the loose boards.
“Hey, stop that! Don’t fucking pull it out.”
“....that’s what she said?” Benny laughs.
Will rolls his eyes, slapping his brother on the chest. “You’re so fuckin’ stupid.”
As they head back, they notice the pool. Ethan was standing at the edge looking at his phone. He hears them traipsing through the overgrowth and turns around, “Hey guys, what do you think?”
“Well, it’s going to need a lot of work, that’s for sure, but, we want to make an offer.”
“Shit, really? I mean … cool. Yea ok, I’ll draw something up and send it over.” 
Giving them both a handshake, the men start to walk back to the front. Benny pulls out his phone taking a few photos of the backyard and the front as they make their way back to Will’s Jeep. 
Ethan gives them one final wave before pulling out of the driveway and heading out.
Will and Benny walk up to the driveway and give one final look at the house, Benny snapping a few more photos. They hear someone clear their throat behind them. Turning around they see a woman, around their age, walking a corgi.
“You guys going to buy that?” she nodded towards the house.
“Uh, yea we’re thinking about it,” Will said cautiously while Benny bounded past his brother to crouch down to pet the dog.
“Aw man, I love corgis!”
“Ha, thanks, he loves people so you’re making his day. My name is Megan, that's Bucky.” She extended her hand to shake Will’s first, looking down at Benny who got back up. Removing his backward baseball cap and putting it in his left hand to shake her hand.
“I live over there, the blue two-story with the basketball hoop,” she says pointing over to a house a few doors down and across the street. 
“Do you play basketball?” Benny asks, reaching back down to give the dog some belly scratches.
“No, but my son does.” She reaches up to brush some hair out of her face and the boys both notice the huge diamond on her finger. 
“What’s the neighborhood like?” Will could tell it was a nice neighborhood, but still wanted to do the proper reconnaissance. 
“Oh, it’s pretty quiet. A few families, but some singles as well,” she eyes them both up and down. “You have some nice neighbors on both sides of you. We’ve been trying to have more events together, block parties, and stuff. Hopefully, you boys can fix up this piece of shit and we can all come over,” she smiles tilting her chin up at the house.
“Yea, well that’s the goal.” Benny looked up smiling, continuing to play with the dog.
“Well, I’ll be seeing you around hopefully.” She waves and continues her walk.
Later that night, Will was sitting in the living room playing some zombie video game when he noticed Benny head back over to his chair at the dining room table, notebook, and pencil in tow. Except this time Benny had some colored pencils with him too. Will saw his brother prop up his phone, using it as a reference for whatever he was drawing. A small smile on his face as he got to work.
______________________
The next month was busy getting everything together with the realtors. During that time, Santiago returned from his travels, wanting a bit more stability than the nomad life. He and Frankie had been helping the brothers pack.
Closing day comes and before they go in to sign the papers, Will pulls out his phone.
WILL: Headed in now to close on the house…should have the keys by 5. You guys want to come over and check it out?
FRANKIE: Yea, Pope and I can head over after I get out of work.  
BENNY: Sweet, see you guys later. Bring beer!
“Goddamn, my fucking hand hurts,” Benny puts his pen down and massages his hand. “I didn’t realize we had to sign so much shit.”
“What did you think, we would sign one paper? We’re buying a house.” Will chuckles.
_________________________
The boys waited approximately one day before fully starting Operation Bachelor Pad, as Benny put it. Will continued to lean on Joel’s advice about what materials to buy and avoid and techniques to use. Joel even sent them a new set of power tools as a housewarming gift. 
The sweltering weather made working outside on the yard a bit of a hassle, but one of Will’s first orders of business was to clean up the front so it wasn’t such an eyesore to the neighbors. Between the four of them, they were able to knock it out rather quickly. Will mowed the grass, while Frankie meticulously edged. Being the tallest of the group, Benny worked on pulling leaves out of the gutters with Santi’s help. They pulled weeds and removed a couple of dead shrubs. When they were all done, the boys sat in some folding chairs in the driveway drinking from their bottles of water.
“It’s so fucking hot out,” Frankie said as he took his hat off, wiped his forehead and combed his hair with his hand, before returning his hat to his head.
“How am I this sweaty?” Benny grunted as he peeled off his T-shirt, resting it on the back of his chair.
“What, you trying to give a show to all of the housewives?” Santiago teased him.
“Fuck off, it’s hot. If the pool wasn’t such a goddamn disaster I would jump in there,” Benny laughed.
Will looked up and saw Megan walking towards them holding a basket.
“Hey boys,” she smiled.
“Hey Megan,” Will got up, meeting her at the front of the driveway. “What’s this?”
“Where’s the corgi?” Benny yelled. Will turns around to glare at him. “Just kidding, hi Mrs. Megan!”
“Oh my god, Benjamin, please do not call me Mrs. It makes me feel old,” she chuckles. “Here, I wanted to bring something by, not sure how stocked your fridge is yet and I saw you had some friends over.” She nodded to the group behind Will.
Handing over the basket, Will sees she had arranged a few bottles of water and Gatorade, along with some homemade cookies and a gift card to a pizza place. 
“Wow, thank you, this is so nice,” Will smiled. By this point, Benny had walked up to see what was in the basket too. 
“Nice, this is awesome!” he said, pulling out one of the cookies and stuffing it in his mouth. He noticed Megan giving him a quick up and down, so he stood a little taller. “This is fucking amazing. Are you a cook or something?”
“Baker. And no, not professionally or anything. I just dabble.”
“Well, you can dabble with us anyti-” he chokes as Will hit him in the side of the stomach. “Shit. I, uh, I didn’t mean it like that. Sorry,” he looked down bashfully. 
“I know what you meant, all good,” she laughs. “Well, I should be heading out.”
“See ya later!” Benny waved, grabbing one more cookie from the basket before bouncing back towards the chair. 
“So, are all of your neighbors hot?” Santiago asked with an arched eyebrow. “May need to move in here myself.”
“Fuck off, Pope. She’s nice. She’s actually one of the first people that has come by to say anything.”
________________
It was so fucking hot outside. Florida summers were no joke. As a result, the boys used the next few months to completely renovate the inside of the house. They installed new countertops in the kitchen, laid down hardwood floors, upgraded nearly every appliance or fixture in the place, and fixed the glass sliding door to the back porch. As the months went on, the house became a source of their collective pride and joy; they reveled in their handiwork.
Megan would come by every so often to say hi. She introduced the guys to a few other neighbors and it felt like they were starting to develop a home base. Even though Frankie and Santiago didn’t officially live there, they may as well because they were over all the time, even when Will and Benny were gone.
As the weather got cooler, by Florida standards, the boys decided to focus on the outside of the house. 
One day as they were sitting around watching a football game on a lazy Sunday, Benny got up and headed out of the living room with a purpose.
“Where the fuck is he going?” Santiago looked over the couch to where Benny ran off to.
“Who knows, the kid has been really focused on something and I don’t know what it is,” Will said.
“Ok! I got it!” Benny ran back into the room with his notebook and a pencil in tow.
The other three looked at him with confused looks.
“I’ve been thinking about what to do with the yard, but I think I finally figured it out. This was the missing piece.” He quickly scribbled some things down and turned his notebook around.
“What are we supposed to be looking at Ben?” Will asked, confused and trying to read what Benny’s chicken scratch said. 
“Ok, look,” Benny sat in the middle of the couch, Will and Frankie on either side and Santiago came over to sit on the back of the couch, looking over his shoulder.
“Let’s start in front. We need to replace the fence on both sides and put in a swing gate, that’s easy. I’m thinking we do some flower beds here in the front. I haven’t decided what kind of flowers yet. But leading from the front porch over to the fence we’ll put some flagstone pavers down. Yea, I think that’ll look nice. Oh, and a couple of planted pots here in the front,” he motioned to circles he drew on either side of the door.”
He keeps rambling as the other three look at each other, Benny oblivious to them.
“Oh and then on the left side of the house, I’m thinking some permeable pavers so that the water can drain, will help us not have standing water to avoid excess mosquitos and algae and shit. That side of the fence is bigger so we can easily get the lawn mower into the backyard that way and not fuck up the grass as much.”
Moving the paper closer, he points to the left side of the paper. “Ok, so once we get into the backyard, I think we line it with some raised flower beds. Near the pool, we’ll have some more perennials. We’ll add some more planted pots on the porch. Maybe some string lights or something.”
“And then this is what finally came together!” he smiled pointing to the back right of his drawing. “I think … wait for it … we build a gazebo thing.”
“Isn’t that called a pergola?” Santiago asked.
“Same shit. They’ll be a structure back there. With some shrubs up to the fence line. We can put a palm tree out there, some more flagstone pavers, and then we include a little water fountain in one of the perennial beds here.” 
When he finished, he leaned back on the couch and exhaled, pleased with himself and excited that his idea finally came together.
“So that’s what you’ve been working on, huh?” Will smirked.
“Yea man, I … I don’t know. Ever since we came here for the first time I had this … vision. Like, I could see it, but I couldn’t. So I’ve been working on different designs.” Benny paged through his notebook showing numerous mockups of their backyard.
“Holy shit, Ben, that’s awesome,” Frankie looked over at Benny. “But what if you put a grass bed over here by the utilities.” 
“Yea … yea, that could work Fish!”
_______________________ 
Over the next few weeks, Benny and Frankie continued to tinker with the design, sending Will and Santiago out on Home Depot runs to get things off their list. 
As they did working on the interior of the house, they found themselves opening up to each other as they worked, finding that keeping their hands and bodies busy gave their minds time to process.
And they worked hard, completely rejuvenating the look of the house both from the inside and outside, so much so that the neighbors took notice. 
Megan was the first to come over to ask if the guys could look at her lawn. Benny made a few easy suggestions, offering to fix it up on weekends. Then another neighbor and another neighbor. Before they knew it, the boys had worked on nearly every house on their block, which helped them get to know everyone.
One night as the boys were hanging out in the backyard, Benny came up with another idea. 
"Ok, hear me out," as he opened the cooler to grab beers for everyone. 
Frankie was by the grill and turned around to peer over at Benny. "What Benjamin? What job did you sign us up for now?" chuckling as he took a swig of the beer Benny handed him.
"Landscaping."
Cocking his head to the side, Santiago repeats back matter-of-factly, "Landscaping."
"Like what, do it professionally or something?" Frankie laughs.
Benny looks over at Will who was observing, taking it all in.
"Oh come on! Look at what we did with this place," gesturing around to the backyard. 
They all had to admit they did a beautiful job with the backyard. It has been almost therapeutic for them, working on this house together. 
“We’ve already been doing it! Megan’s lawn. Fish, you had a great idea for Melissa and Derek’s backyard, they fucking loved what you and Pope did with the place. We … we could do this for other people. Figure out how to make shit better.” He pulled his cap off, brushing his hair.
Although the other three had always seen Benny as the little brother, bouncing off the walls with energy, they had to admit he had a newfound focus when it came to the projects around the house. His brain was crawling with ideas. Plus, they were having fun working on projects for their neighbors. They had gotten very close to some of them.
"This could be a legit business for us. I even have a name I came up with. Wait for it…Delta Landscaping!" He beamed, clearly proud of himself and waiting for the guy's reaction.
Next Chapter
A/N: I hope you enjoyed the first installment of this series! Seriously thank you to everyone who has sent me a message or a comment in the lead-up to this. I’ve had so much fun interacting with all of you and it has been a bright spot in my days for sure.
Let me know if you want to be on the tag list moving forward!!
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ego-meliorem-esse · 2 months
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Do you hc America to speak other languages or is he a fully English bimbo? To my knowledge, NASA requires Russian fluency, I don't think many other US-government level agencies require another language but I could be wrong. I know Spanish translations of official documents are increasingly accessible but English is still the de facto language.
What I will say is that the notion that Alfred, as a superpower in the modern age, does not speaks several languages is absurd to me.
The languages i hc him to know, besides English, are:
Spanish - first and foremost. Though Alfred does have more of a Mexican dialect when speaking Spanish, which slightly annoys Antonio. As it should.
German - very good at it! Gets the accent almost perfect. For Alfred, German was one of those easier languages he learned. With most nations, Alfred speaks English. And not really because he doesn't want to or try to speak their language, but mostly because it's rare that other nations expect this dude to speak their native languages. Not with Gil tho! Their conversations are full of German-centric memes. Alfred is a big fan of Mitten im Leben. Unapologetically so! He knows enough German to understand the shitty acting in the show.
Mandarin - this on is very straight forward, it's good business. He uses it too much for diplomatic purposes to find joy and interest in speaking it. Sad really, as its a fascinating language.
Russian - also very straightforward, he works at NASA for commissions and contracts and its very common to speak it. Even besides that, the Cold War required it as well. His Spotify playlists are full of post communist songs of Russian, Polish, Yugoslav origins but he'll die before show it to anyone.
Japanese - He stutters and takes his time when speaking Japanese. He learned it but rarely uses it nowadays.
Korean - man, he tries. It's a relatively new language under Alfreds belt. But his problem is that he sounds very flat when speaking Korean. Nowadays he uses it more than Japanese though!
French - oh this is a very fun one for me to get into. Contrary to popular headcanoning, I hc him to struggle with it. He does understand most of verbal French, but as a child he started learning it and at that point he wasn't really all that interested in other languages. He had other shit keep his focus. So, while he did hear a large amount of it growing up, he had few attempts to speak it himself. Even during the American revolution, when he made his way across the pond to woo his french patrons, he was mostly spoken to in English. In their minds he was not very cultured. A mixed race country bumpkin putting his big boy pants on for the first time. As annoying that was for Alfred, he had other shit to worry about. And Matt rarely spoke French when living with Al and Arthur so there wasn't really an opportunity there for Alfred. This is one language that he is constantly passively learning, which is hilarious bc it's one of the first ones he should have known lol. I get that this is a very niche hc and makes little sense but i find joy in it. And also in François' frustration.
Plus a limited knowledge of other languages. Alfred is trying to make time to learn more languages, but finding time for it is a challenge.
I'll expand on Alfreds knowledge of both specific classifications of Algonquian and Iroquois languages in a later post.
All that said, Alfred is, in heart and soul, an "English bimbo" 🙏
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as a black genderfucked lesbian who is american, watching white american queers argue over stuff sometimes feels so.......like. hollow. or shallow. in a way. i dont know how to explain it. like it just feels like "lol. lmao even" because yes i GUESS these are valid concerns but you guys................can we focus on why you guys never include black people, or almost any nonwhite folks in your little rants that border on tantrums. i mean EYEEEEE know why but do YOUUU know why? i dont know. it just makes it hard to navigate because they're fighting battles i would never think to pick up simply because its like okay yes thats a problem but there is a giant tuna sitting on the grill rn i am not worried about anchovies
EXACTLY. It’s so exhausting being black and trans and trying to exist in trans spaces. White trans people never consider trans people of color when they’re talking about the community as a whole it’s so frustrating. Trying to find things that were useful to me as a younger trans person was pretty much impossible and sorta still is :’) Don’t even get me started on all the “trans stereotypes” that only ever include white people. I have never once related to any of that shit.
I truly wish it was easier for trans people or color to take up space in this community.
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dramaqueeenamby · 1 year
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Easy | T'Challa Udaku
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A/N: My god, BP2 was such an emotional ride. This is a product of all of the emotions I'm still reeling from. I have not written for BP in probably a year+, so I apologize for the rustiness.
Warnings: ANGST.
Words: 3K
You can find my other works HERE.
++++++++++++DO NOT READ IF YOU HAVEN'T SEEN BLACK PANTHER: WAKANDA FOREVER++++++++++++
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Loving him was easy. 
Maybe too easy.
Maybe things would have been easier if he wasn’t so easy. So easy to admire, so easy to be drawn to, so easy to feel an ungodly amount of love and adoration for. 
But maybe that was just T’Challa. With his beautiful smile and brilliant mind, few paths seemed to lead to some place loveless. He was the embodiment of attraction, from the way he spoke, to the way he conducted himself, to the way he loved.
Yeah….easy seemed to be unavoidable. 
A small smile makes its way to your face as you reminisce on your first meeting all those years ago. 
“Would you just tell me already?”
Nakia simply looks over at you with that same bored yet tempted expression. “And ruin the surprise? Never.”
She laughs, clearly amused by your frustration, by the lack of patience for which you’ve still struggled to fully comprehend. 
You’d just completed your War Dog training and had been assigned to Nakia, to shadow her on a few missions and prove that you were ready for your own assignment. It was a perfect partnership, as Nakia matched your wit and sense of humor, both of which had definitely gotten you in trouble more times than you’d like to admit.
“How about a hint?”
“How about no?”
Your eyes narrowed as you nudged her. “You are enjoying this.”
“Somewhat,” she admits. You share another look before giggling together when a firm voice from behind interrupts your moment. 
“Forgive me, ladies.”
“You are not forgiven,” your response is natural and instantaneous, a small smirk playing on your face. “Matter of fact, you should know better than to sneak on two lad–” The smirk drops and your ridicule is cut short by the dark eyes and curious gaze of the crowned prince who stands before you. 
If Nakia was amused before, she was delighted now. You can feel her eyes still focused on you as she bumps you with her hip. “Y/N, you didn’t finish your statement. How rude.”
Your glare could burn two holes into the princess as she shakes her head and returns her focus onto Prince T’Challa. 
“Yes, T’Challa?” It’s in the most random, unexpected moments that you remember while Nakia is your friend, she is also royalty. Perhaps it’s something you should commit to memory, especially given how you’ve just completely disregarded all protocol for the future ruler of Wakanda. 
Finally able to pick your eyeballs off the ground, you find that T’Challa’s gaze is pinpointed on you. “Nakia is correct. It is improper to finish your statement…..”
He trails off, and you realize he’s searching for your name. Slightly dejected and still embarrassed, you answer, hastily adding a “your grace” onto the end. For good measure and respect.
He simply makes a sound before repeating your name. It feels so strange hearing your name on his mouth, strange but also….right. Shifting your stance, you’re thankful when he finally reirects his focus to Nakia. Memory of what was said between them was lost years ago, but the initial butterflies in your stomach upon your first meeting have always stayed with you. 
You pray to Bast they always will. 
Rolling your shoulders, your fingers dance across the fabric on your skin. It’s a piece you’d acquired since moving to Haiti. Your fingertips stroke the intricate pattern, and just like that, you’re hit with memories of laying in bed, naked, a sheen of sweat covering your back while the same fingers dance across his chest.
There are too many times that this occurred, but it’s somewhat easier to recall one of the later moments. 
The silence rattles you, not because you can’t handle it. It’s because you know underneath it lies turmoil, It’s present in the way he entered you, rough, desperate, lost. Lovemaking with T’Challa was always anything but that, maybe the first of them at times, but never the latter two. 
Your hands flatten against his chest, gently curving inward to draw his attention. He doesn’t move to look down, but you know he’s listening. 
“Talk to me,” you implore, licking your lips. “There’s so much more room out here, my love.”
He says nothing but you feel the scoff underneath his strong chest. “There is already too much out here.”
“Nay,” you lean to kiss the underside of his jaw. “You underestimate the space, kumkani.”
Finally, allowing you a glance of his dejected expression, he counters, “and you underestimate the weight, Isithandwa.”
Sighing, your hand travels to his face. “You didn’t know, T’Challa. None of us did.” If you’re being honest with yourself, it’s still nearly incomprehensible to believe that King T’Chaka was responsible for the murder of his own brother as well as the abandonment of his nephew, T’Challa’s cousin, the man who seemed hellbent on revenge. 
But not for poor reasons.
Still, the fact that so much of this falls on T’Challa, who has barely had time to mourn the loss of his father, your heart aches for the pain he refuses to show but you know he feels. 
“And we cannot change the past,” you continue, though vaguely unsure of yourself. T’Challa has always been the better of you two when it came to wording things in a way that was equally beautiful as it was helpful. “But, we can make decisions now that will help us create a better future.”
“Built on what? Lies.”
“No….” Again, your hand movement shifts to his hard abdomen, as your fingers offer comforting, circular movements. “No, my love, the lies stop with you. You will be the change that will usher in a new era for Wakanda, a better era, for us all.”
Instead of the incoherent sounds you usually receive, his hand on your back tugs you just a little closer. “You have such unyielding faith in me.”
You sit on his words for a few seconds before answering thoughtfully. “I’ve questioned many things in my life, T’Challa, but not one of them has ever been you. Not your ability to rule, to protect, not even to love.” A beat. “Now I’ve maybe questioned your fashion choices at one point or another, but Shuri’s influence will hopefully start to rub off on you.”
A small yelp escapes your mouth as he flips positions so that he’s hovering over you. Your gazes lock as he lowers himself, stealing the gentlest of kisses before resting his forehead against yours. Your hands cradle his cheeks as he kisses both of your palms before shifting downward and laying against your chest. Your arms cocoon him, protecting him, offering a solace only found within your safe embrace.
“I love you, T’Challa. Never forget that.”
You once believed that the five years without T’Challa, having lost him to the Snap, was the most difficult thing you’d ever had to endure.
Clearly….clearly you were wrong.
It starts with a cough. 
Nothing persistent or chronic, more inconsistent and light than anything. Probably nothing major enough to raise an eyebrow from anyone else. But you knew T’Challa, and you knew the many benefits of the heart shaped herb.
He didn’t get sick, and more importantly, the black panther didn’t get sick. 
A small part of you pretended that it wasn't an issue. You were comforted by the fact that he’d been ripped away from you for five years and returned. What more heartache could possibly outweigh that?
But then the cough was no longer as infrequent, and along with it came a sort of dullness in his normally bright eyes. He seemed….weary.
You knew the weight of returning after being gone for so long weighed on him, but this….this was different.
It was also concerning, as he would come and visit at least once a month, the two of you no longer able to steal moments in time as often as you once did. You were both older now with even more responsibilities than ever before. So when he came to visit two times in a row and you noticed the same dullness, your concern definitely spiked.
It was late, and the two of you were just getting into bed. He’d only just pulled back the blankets when you finally asked.
“How long do you plan to pretend that everything is alright?”
He stands upright and his jaw ticks. “What are you talking about?”
Deflection. T’Challa never deflects. Your concern increases.
Moving across the room, you stand directly in front, looking up at him. “You know exactly what I am talking about.” When he says nothing, your hand lifts to his cheek. “Please talk to me. I am worried.”
“It’s nothing.”
“What is it, T’Challa?” Moving closer, you lay yourself against his chest, mindful of how he hesitates to reciprocate your embrace. “I need you to be honest with me.” A beat. “Or maybe I just need you to be honest with yourself.”
His body tenses underneath the weight of your own as well as your words. And finally, he answers, “something has been…..plaguing me.” Looking up, he immediately goes into comfort mode. “It is nothing to worry about, Isithandwa.”
His eyes betray him, and you can’t help how your own water. “How close are you to a cure?” His silence is the answer you don’t want to hear. It’s an answer that is not the security of promise and hope that you need in this moment. 
“Y/N–”
“What-what does Shuri think?” More silence. Your eyes naturally widen. “You have not told her?” His lack of an answer adds another layer of panic as she painfully realizes, “you have not told anyone….”
“There is no need to worry anyone, Y/N.”
“But I am worried, T’Challa!” You whisper harshly, mindful of your volume as not to disturb or let alone awake the last person who needs to be hearing this conversation. “Do you not think I have not noticed how long this has lasted? You have been sick for weeks, months maybe, and if there is no cure in sight, then who is to say you will get better?”
He shakes his head, cupping your face. “Aye, listen to me.” The tears are falling, and his thumb goes to brush them away. “You once told me that you have never doubted me. Do you remember this? Hmm?”
Sniffling, you manage to nod and murmur, “yes.”
Relieved, he tucks you into him, his chin resting on the top of your head. “So trust me now, Y/N. Have faith.”
His words still haunt you, still bring the sting of tears to your eyes and the sharp flash of pain in your chest. Realizing that the man you love has limited time left on earth is a pain like none other. But watching him gradually decline, knowing that there’s nothing you can do….that is a hurt too explosive to even describe.
For his sake, you both acted normal. Same smiles, just a little dimmer. Same laughter, just an octave lighter. Same love, not a damn thing different. Some days you wonder if that was for the better or for the worse. Was it staying and operating out a state of denial? Could you have maybe delayed it, prevented it even if there was more of a sense or urgency?
Because even when you both sat him down, when you were finally honest about T’Challa’s condition, about where his path was leading him, it still felt bitterly hopeful. Like it was a maybe instead of a definitely.
Maybe this will happen, instead of this is going to happen.
But you also knew this wasn’t a decision that you could make by yourself. And truth be told, it wasn’t even a decision T’Challa could make, which disgusted you. How could a man like T’Challa, your sweet, kind love be subjected to such a cruel ending? An ending so unbecoming of the majestic man that he was. 
This is when the anger kicks in, the rage at having him taken from you not once, not twice, but three times. Why the hell did you all have to be dealt such a vile card? What travesties could you have done, could he have done to deserve this ending? 
In the final weeks, days even, items were dropped or were thrown, tempers were short, clearly, and interactions felt so much more heavy. You still beat yourself up for being so consumed by your own emotions that maybe you weren’t present enough for him when he needed you the most. 
That also happens a lot, that feeling of it not being enough. Not enough of him. Not enough of you all. Not enough time. 
Not enough of…..anything. 
And then that ceremony, the damn goodbye that he decided would be just for them, that was the moment you realized that T’Challa wouldn’t be returning for another visit. This was the last time, and it broke you. Of that night, you don’t remember much, just the absolute agony and grief that tore through your entire being. It’s such a blur, but the pain felt is a constant. 
That last goodbye…..even reflecting back on it is too much to bear, too much to try to swallow. Maybe someday you’ll be able to dwell on it….but now….now is too soon, much too soon.
What does stand out is the days following the notice you received that he’d passed on to be with the ancestors.
Washing the dishes was the last thing you wanted to do, but the dishwasher was giving an error code, and you couldn’t bring yourself to seek out someone who could fix it. Especially when that someone you would usually call is no longer available. 
Wiping at your face with the back of your hand had become a habit, one that had caused the skin on your face to become tender, harsh even from the constant friction. But the final straw was dropping the glass plate in your hand onto the floor, shattering all over the tile. 
You cursed, leaning down to gather the pieces only to not pay close enough attention, accidentally slicing the palm of your hand.
Hissing loudly, you lifted your arm, observing the blood leave the open wound. You do nothing to stop it, watching it continue to spill, even aiding in the process as you apply pressure around the area. It’s a fruitless effort though, because the physical pain is nothing in comparison to your emotional pain. 
Overcome with that same emotion, you bring yourself to your feet and storm out the door, running toward the beachfront. 
T’Challa always loved the water and wanted you two to be away from everyone else, both for your comfort as well as your privacy and overall safety. 
Falling to your knees, your hands brace against the grainy sand as a loud, guttural, visceral scream erupts from the deepest part of your soul. But, it’s not enough. So you go again. And again. And again. Continuing to scream until your voice breaks, as does your resolve.
Now on your side, sobs rake through your entire body, you wails bouncing off the waves of the water. 
It’s both comforting and suffocating. A release and a limitation. A blessing and a curse.
“How-how could you leave me?” The question is posed to no one, to everyone, to anyone who will listen. “How could you leave us!” The interrogative nature quickly transitions to a demanding tone, a plea, a beg for mercy. “You said-you said to have faith, and I–I did.” You continue to wail, shaking your head. “And where are you now? WHERE ARE YOU, T’CHALLA?”
Stomach throbbing and eyes burning, your vision is blurred by pain, but you manage to twist your body when small but firm arms wrap around you and a body is pressed against yours. The familiar smell of shea and cocoa butter fills your nostrils as you look down and nearly cave again.
“I’m right here, mama,” your son’s words hit you deeper than anything you could have imagined. And another wave of tears overcomes you as he repeats himself and holds you even tighter. “I’m right here.” 
You’re not sure if Challa, as both you and T’Challa took to calling him even when he was still in your womb, will ever be able to fully comprehend the depth and importance of his words. His comfort in that moment pulling you from a darkness you’d never encountered. A darkness you’re not sure you would have been able to save yourself from without him. 
It’s been roughly a year since that night, that evening where your greatest blessing saved you from your greatest battle. And every day is a struggle, there’s always moments where you find yourself encountering a memory, missing a touch, yearning for that love.
But then Challa will smile at you, and you’re reminded that death…is never the end. 
You remember that loving T’Challa was always so easy because it was inevitable. 
“You’re always with me, my love,” you speak upward, smiling softly. “And you always will be.” 
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starsurface · 21 days
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Mk1 BiHan <3
Okie!! :D
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<3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3
Regressor Bi-Han Hcs pt 2
❄️ My last ones were really sad so I’m gonna focus a bit more on positive hcs
❄️ Little Bi-Han actually highly enjoys more ‘baby’ or ‘softer’ regression activities
❄️ Paddycake, story time, cuddle time, just sitting beside you
❄️ Does not do tummy tme because he doesn’t like how vulerable it makes him feel
❄️ It also doesn’t . . . look like he’s into these things though
❄️ If you play paddycake with him, he’ll just stare at you, no giggling, no small smile
❄️ But if you stop playing, he’ll get very upset and demand you continue, taking away his fun like that >:(
❄️ He’ll whine and complain about physical touch when he’s bigger, especially out in public (behind closed doors he’s actually super clingy)
❄️ But little Bi-Han? Psh, you can’t get him off you!! He’ll drap himself on you, or snuggle against your hide, or practically sit on your lap
❄️ He really wants to sit on your lap but he’s too shy because a, it’s childish, and b, he feels like he’s too big and heavy
❄️ Nonsense, just tell him that he has to be a bit careful and of course he can sit on your lap <3
❄️ Bi-Han has a  . . . very big communication issue
❄️ When he wants something or is upset, he’ll sit there silently, staring at the floor with tears in his eyes, frustrated that you can’t just know what he wants
❄️ A really simple solution to this? Communication cards or one of those apps
❄️ Bi-Han gets really fussy about using technology, but he also gets really embarrassed if you bring the cards out
❄️ Especially around others!!! He might not talk much, but you don’t have to embarrass him like that!!! >:\
❄️ Over time though, he learns very quickly that it’s way easier to use the cards or app than to sit there frustrated with himself and you
❄️He’ll angirly get it when he’s upset, stomping over to its hiddey place and shoving it in your face, repeadingly tapping about why he’s upset (It’s so adorable and you have to remind yourself to take it seriously)
❄️ One of Bi-Han’s secret wishes is to regress outside
❄️ The Lin Kuei gets a bunch of snow, and he wants to play in it!! 
❄️ Building snow men, making snow angels, catching snowflakes on his tounge 🥺
❄️ But he’s also terrified of regressing in public, so it’ll probably never happen :(
❄️ You’ve caught him peaking outside his curtains to look at the snow, but he’ll claim that he was just making the that the curtains ‘still working’ (whatever that means)
❄️ If you do try to convince him to go play outside, it takes so much convincing
❄️ Bi-Han at first gets super upset that you even suggested it, and might try to ignore you
❄️ But eventually curiosity does get the better of him and one day, you do have a little day outside!!
❄️ It’s late at night, and Bi-Han makes sure everyones busy, and it’s one of the best regression memories he has
❄️ You two got to play in the snow!! It’s one of the few times you’ve ever heard Bi-Han’s real giggle :D
❄️ You could exactly see his smile, because his mask was on, but you could tell there was a huge smile on his face
❄️ A really easy indicator that he’s regressing is that he begins to suck his tumb
❄️ He has other indicators, like clinging onto you more, or sitting next to you and grabbing your sleeve or back of your shirt
❄️ But a big indicator is that his hand will drift to his mask, and then he’ll whine because he has his mask on still :(
❄️ His favorite regression item is a nursery rhyme book that his mother gifted him when he was a young boy
❄️ He really likes being read to, especially if your very active in your story telling
❄️ Praise!!!
❄️ Please tell him that he’s a good boy, or how smart he is for doing something simple, or even just how much you love him
❄️ He needs your reasurance that you love him, that he’s not naughty when he has his meltdowns, that he can relax and be babied and just breathe
❄️ Bi-Han struggles sometimes to comprehend what someone’s trying to tell him what to do, and this also follows into his regression
❄️ He needs clear instructions, or he’ll try to do what you want, only to stand there incredibly frustrated with himself and feeling like an idiot for needing more help
❄️ Make sure to remind him that he’s not an idiot for wanting clearier instructions, because he’s not, he just want to make sure the jobs done right
❄️ He’s very clingy and protective of you or whoevers watching him while small
❄️ If your watching someone else too, he’ll be attatched to your hip and’ll glare at the other person (he gets better with this overtime)
❄️ This man has little to no regression items, and even though he will completely freak out if you got him something simple as a plushie, that plushie will become his new little friend and he cannot not have it while tiny
<3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3
Hope these are okay!! <3
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innominaterifter · 3 days
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A little about my ADHD running practices
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I have ADHD and autism, ADHD predominates (or so, I think at the moment). The symptoms of ADHD and how it manifests itself in life is a broad topic, but in this post I will focus on one thing: about a specific practice that helps me do things that I otherwise wouldn’t be able to do.
This practice is definitely not a solution for every matter and every person, but with something specific it works great for me.
So, you have the complexity of doing something, and this complexity is not monolithic. It consists of the difficulty of starting, the difficulty of continuing, and the difficulty of finishing.
Why do I divide it into these stages?
First
For different people, the complexity of these stages may vary: for some it is difficult to start, but it is much easier to continue, for some it is difficult to continue, but in principle it is not difficult to start, and so on.
Moreover, the complexity of the stages for different cases may be different.
An example:
It’s quite difficult for me to get myself into the shower or the bathroom or to swimming practice. But if I’m already there, if I’m already interacting with water, then I can be in this process for a very long time. So much so that it becomes difficult to complete.
Thus, if you evaluate the complexity of the stages on a three-point scale, then for me to start is 3 points, to continue is 0 points, and to complete is 1 or 2 points. External circumstances help me with the completion: the hot water in the boiler runs out sooner or later, and lying in a cooling bathtub is not so fun; during swimming training I get tired or training time ends. The external limiter here serves as a helping element.
With other things, the distribution of stage complexity may be different. And if I know how the complexity is distributed, which stages of a particular task are the most difficult for me, and which do not require the expenditure of willpower, then it is easier for me to plan tactics.
If I know that the continuation stage is not difficult for me, I can plan a larger amount of work for this stage. If I know that in this particular case the continuation stage is gaining high difficulty scores for me, then I will not plan too much work there in advance.
For example, with everything related to water, the most difficult thing for me is to begin with, then there are no problems, because I really like the interaction with water. Thus, the main task becomes to lure myself into the process, to create such conditions and expectations that I would like to start it. The realization that the process will continue on its own and you don’t need to spend any resources on it makes it easier to start.
Thus, dividing into stages allows you to approach the task more structurally, distribute resources more competently and - most importantly - see the upcoming task as something composite and completely doable, and not as a monolithic peak of Overcoming.
Second
Dividing into stages with an understanding of the complexity of a specific stage of a specific task specifically for yourself allows you to praise yourself for the stages completed, even if the task itself was not fully completed.
An example:
If you think of running training as a monolithic task that sounds like “run for an hour,” then if you do not run for an hour—for whatever reason—then you feel like a failure. And any running training that ends in less than an hour gives you a feeling of frustration, a feeling of “I failed”.
But you haven't really failed.
You started this training - this is usually the most difficult thing; you ran for some time - and this also needs to be counted towards your completed things. Actually, you're great. You have done certain things that are difficult for you. Praise yourself, you deserve it.
Dividing into stages helps you better notice what you have succeeded in. Division into stages helps to get away from the catastrophizing “if you didn’t complete some part, you failed in everything” and move on to the more sensible “you didn’t complete some specific stage but completed others.”
To be honest, I have certain difficulties with running. Unlike swimming, it's not something that brings me pleasure in the process, all the time. At least for now. I hope this will change but at the moment this is the situation.
For running training, it’s not enough for me to just start, and then everything will go by itself, like in swimming. For a running workout, the difficulty of continuing is higher for me than the difficulty of starting.
At the same time, I really want to run, I like this feeling of flying, dynamic movement in the surrounding space, when I manage to catch it (if I didn’t like the idea of running or didn’t consider it useful for myself, then I simply wouldn’t do it).
So, unlike swimming workouts, my running workouts look completely different. It was much more difficult for me to start them because I knew that the stage "continuing" would be even more difficult than the stage "starting." And thus it launching a self-propelling attractor: you know that further it will be more difficult for you than at the beginning, so it becomes more difficult to start.
When I began to count as a plus the completion of at least one specific stage - or partial completion - then everything became easier. I went to running training and ran 500 m, and I don’t have the strength to continue? Okay, you basically went out to train and ran this distance. Well done! How about we just walk for the rest of the time? You don't have to run, just walk at a brisk pace. Although look, if you take this turn at a decent speed, there will be a cool feeling of centrifugal force - shall we try it? Doing the task in this format really made a difference for me. This allowed me to concentrate more on what was done rather than on what was not done.
This, in turn, made it possible to create spirals of positive reinforcement that helped start the next workout a little easier (or it allows you to blame yourself less if you missed a workout or didn’t complete it to the extent you planned).
I’ll tell you about how I use cosplay practices for ADHD in the next post.
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oreoambitions · 1 year
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Kara hangs some four feet off the floor, palms sweating, legs trembling, and tries not to close her eyes. Four feet might as well be forty. Might as well be four hundred. The move is a drop knee and a reach up with the left hand and she can do it, has done it before, has to do it again because otherwise fear wins this one and since when does Kara Danvers let fear win? She turns the knee in but the left hand has a mind of its own and it wont let go. If she lets go she’s going to fall. And if she falls…
She pushes off the wall and drops the four feet with ease, lets her knees fold, indulges in an unnecessary backwards flop onto the mat. She stays there for a long moment, eyes on thick wooden rafters high above, chest heaving with what feels even to her to be unnecessary drama. The absurdity of it all would make her laugh if the frustration of it all weren’t burning hot through her veins. It’s a V0. It’s a climb for beginners. For Kara, it should have been nothing.
But today it’s something. Alex would say, we are taking each day for what it is. We are meeting each day as we are. We are refusing to swell in the past. Easy for Alex to say.
Kara rolls to her feet to take up a perch on the cubbies just off the mat. A couple of minutes and some water and she can try again. It’s about the strength of her will, isn’t it? The body is strong. Not as strong as it once was, but strong enough. It’s the mind that falters. A boy no older than 14 scrambles up a route of tiny chips, his weight all on his fingertips and toes, defying gravity 16 feet straight up with no hesitation, and Kara looks away. There is nothing, and everything, to fear. And isn’t that what she’s come here for? To look fear in the eye and win? Because if she wins…
“Injury?”
Kara startles so hard she almost knocks her own water bottle out of her hand. The woman who settles down onto the cubbies next to her suppresses a smirk. Kara tries without success to suppress her own heartbeat. Green eyes meet hers for half a second and flicker away. Suddenly Kara finds herself fascinated by the loose thread on the seam of her climbing pants.
“Sorry,” the newcomer says. “I know it’s hell of an assumption. I just thought- I’ve seen you around a couple of times.”
Kara has seen her around too, because, and she means this in the gayest possible way, shoulders. The woman beside her is, according to all available evidence these past few weeks, allergic to shirts. Addicted to sports bras. And she’s clearly never skipped a training day in her life, because shoulders. Has Kara mentioned the shoulders? And let’s not talk about the abs. Kara cannot, in fact, look away from the abs. She makes a noble effort to redirect her attention to the lose thread.
“I just joined a couple weeks ago,” she chokes out.
“Lena.”
Kara is so busy looking the other way she hesitates far too long before taking the hand offered to her. Who shakes hands these days anyway? But she takes it, and then she hesitates another moment too long before letting go, because warm.
“Kara,” she replies.
“You don’t move like a new climber, Kara,” Lena comments. “But I never see you on anything steeper than a V1, so I’ve been wondering. And it’s super rude of me,” she concedes, nudging Kara with another smirk, “ but I thought I’d just ask because, as it happens, I am also working some lower grade problems right now because I tore my ACL a little while back.”
“You tore your-”
Lena waves her off. “Happens. So I was wondering if-”
“Happens?” God. Humans are fragile. And reckless. And well muscled. And warm. God. Focus.
“So I was wondering if you wanted to be my injury recovery accountability buddy. You know? We can hype each other up, remind one another that there’s no shame in easier climbs. Maybe we can meet up and do a couple workouts off the wall, some prehab, some core. That sort of thing.”
What Kara should say is, “Sure, but if we’re doing that, I’m definitely gonna need your number.” Maybe not. Maybe something similar to that but smoother and paired with some kind of winning smile. Kara has never before this moment worried about whether her smile is winning or not. What she says instead is, “I’m actually not injured. It’s- I can’t get out of my head.”
Lena nods slowly, her gaze joining Kara’s on the loose thread now twisted tight between Kara’s fingers.
“So…” she says after a long pause, “Was it a fall?”
For an instant, Kara is there again. And it is four hundred feet rather than four, and the concrete rushing up so fast below her, and the taste of ash in her mouth, the smell of iron and blood choking and choking her as the wind whips past, and then the crack-
“Yeah,” she says. Her fingers flex. “And now I can’t- And now I’m scared of heights. And I’m-” Human, she almost says. “And I’ve lost a lot of strength.”
Lena reaches out to tug the loose thread from between her fingers. “Just because it’s in your head,” she says, “Doesn’t mean it isn’t an injury.”
That’s the kind of thing Alex would say. That’s the kind of thing that would make Kara want to roll her eyes on a good day - would, on a bad day, make her want to scream and rage against the unfairness of a solar flare that might just never end, against the tedium of building strength and endurance one slow painful day at a time, against the weeks piling one on the other, the waiting, the fear, the courage that never comes back to her no matter how hard she tries.
Coming from Lena, it isn’t so bad. Lena’s hand lingers on Kara’s a moment too long, and Kara decides the line. “Guess I’ll need your number if we’re gonna be accountability buddies.” She tries the winning smile too, risks a glance back up into those too green eyes, just for good measure.
Lena laughs. Her hand is still on Kara’s, that loose thread between her fingers. “Guess so,” she replies.
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moonlightwarriorqueen · 8 months
Text
Bad Batch + Home Improvement
This one includes out beloved batch, Howser, Gregor and Mayday
there is also a bonus at the end
and I was totally giggling at the cuteness of it
Echo is stated again, but it works as a continuation of his 501st version, of sorts. While some things are the same, others are not. His is also shorter because of this
The Batch
I firmly beleive these guys would work best together buuuut...
Echo
is still good at electrical work, but is a bit more wary of it and will double check things
doesn't wanna accidentally mess with some mechanical parts of himself cuz he wasn't paying attention
still hates the staple/nail guns but is more comfortable with more of the power tools than he was when he was in the 501st
likes having a good plan of action so things can get done quickly, there's always something he needs to help work with elsewhere
will work through his breaks and be more insistant that he doesn't need them
lots of research before he goes near anything but is definitely more confident about figuring things out than he used to be
measures several times, glares at where the piece is gonna go then will cut it
will have a plan meeting with you before starting the project and there will be another sorta-meeting in bed later to talk about what you still need to do and what needed to be adjusted from today
gets frustrated easier because he has a harder time working on these sorts of things
will hover when you're doing something because he can't
he feels so redundant and wants to do it for you but he can't do the thing
there might be some mini-rain cloud moments that will drag the project on because of these 'can't do it' moments
Wrecker
the biggest help and the biggest hinderance
Wrecker is the kinda guy that ought to be doing the heavy lifting but not the fine details
do not let this man do wiring or trim, he'll snap them on accident then want to cry because he made more trouble for you
will throw you up on his shoulders at any point in time
will move furniture and whole beams, etc on his own and will shoo you off to the side
is super proud of any little thing he manages to do
he did the hammering for the flooring? he's gonna sound like a 5 yr old
the whole 'did you see it? did you see it? look what i did. i did that. did you see?!'
you're probably gonna get a stress headache from him narrowly missing destroying your puttywork or painting
if he has nothing to do he'll just watch you in awe
if you're doing something on the floor expect to be snatched into his lap so he can hold you and watch you work
snack this man or the world might implode
nobody wants to see him without snackies
is freaked out by anything that uses air pressure
he hates the sound it makes
will start a paint/putty fight in 0.003 seconds if you so much as try to go to the bathroom and leave him in the project room
you're gonna have to have like caution tape or the door locked because big guy is ginna accidentally ruin half the project by leaning on wet, half screwed or 'just sitting together' items
he'll be uber upset over it though
Tech
good luck getting anything done
he's gonna want a proper plan, blueprints and a solidified project outline
you cannot and will not deter from this agreed plan
you also can't do this without him
he gets super upset the one day you thought you could do some sanding without him to just keep it moving along
he's got so many projects...but this one he gets to do with you
so it's special but he's still gonna focus on his stuff too
is a pro at electrical, like a god
is pretty good at everything else as well
doesn't care for painting as he finds it a waste of his time compared to the other parts of the project
perfectionist to the max
its never gonna be good enough cuz he's gonna think of a way to make it better or get the task done more efficently
you'll probably bicker over this because of his constant 'improvements'
funny cuz you had to agree that you wouldn't alter the plan
is more function than fashion so he won't care if it's not pretty if it does its job
hence why the paint is the worst part for him
might tech-plain things to you
he's not doing so maliciously, he really thinks he knows it better and has to help you out
will get really upset if Crosshair shows up and moves any of his perfectly organized mess
you are also not an exception to that rule
gonna be a lot of watching him work
not a big praiser if you do something well on your own
Crosshair
He's not a handy man
he hates every second of every minute that you're forcing him to work
forcing is a strong word but its the one he chooses
will broodily do what you ask but in the most slow, annoying and procrastinating way possible
his goal is to get you mad enough that you'll just take over the task and let him leave
unwanted 2 cents will be weighed in on every single thing you do
"you're not angled enough for that drill"
"that's not gonna stay on the wall"
"you think that's hammering?"
he will not take over if you sass him back about your 'incompetence'
will sand the putty to perfection if you're not there to witness him actually helping
will argue you on anything just because he can
will hold things up for you because he doesn't want you to get hurt
but he ain't gonna admit it damn it!
will promptly call one of his brothers if he thinks they can do a better job than either of you and that it will get him outta helping
wants this shit over with because then you'll stop paying attention to it instead of him
will go in and clean up if you fall asleep exhausted from working on said project
will move your tools around so they're not where you left them
he's just being an ass because he can
he also finds it hilarious to watch you have a crisis becuase you remember leaving it 'right there'
Hunter
is mildly handy
as in he knows a pretty decent amount of things and is good at it, but that knowledge is very surface level
like yeah he can wire a socket but the breaker?
yeah he has no idea how that works
he'll call his brothers for help / advice before anyone else
if his brothers can't help then it'll be research time
whatever it is you need done, will be figured out
doesn't like paying people to do the work because 1) they ask too much money and 2) he can just learn to do it
woodwork is his greatest skill
gets pretty into the process but you're gonna have to go over the plan with him first
otherwise how is he gonna know what you're trying to get accomplished?
really enjoys the project because he can just have quiet time with you and you're making something together
isn't a fan of the power tools because they hurt his ears so he'll opt for the manual-tools at any chance
sometimes he'll just let you handle those pieces and excuse himself until you're done with the noisey ass machinery
other times he'll bring in super headphones to cancel out as much noise as possible
is really proud of any and all progress you make
he's proud of his own work, but he's prouder of yours
will not hesitate to praise but it won't be excessive
will carve little words or messages that are hidden as things get built
you dont need to know about them, it's enough for him to know he's left them for you across all your projects and tasks
Howser
isn't much of a handy man
like he'll do whatever you ask and the task you give him will be done...even if it ends in him failing it miserably
is not above asking for help
does not want Cham finding out though, he's sure Cham'll tease the shit outta him
goes above and beyond for his friend-boss to never know about the projects
you will eventually end up with a beaming and excited Hera at your door because she tailed her favourite captain
she is sworn to secrecy, but her presance ends up forcing Howser to loosen up
he will full blown panic if she goes near any power tool though
like runs across the room and scoops her up to remove her from said tool
he's a bit hesitant with the power tools himself and is totally in awe watching you handle them
you'll catch him humming / softly singing while he dances along, if there's music playing
if Hera's still around he'll be more goofy and dance with her as they work together to help your project
it is now your and Howser's baby but Hera's totally in on all of the decisions - not that you mind
Hera is better at keeping the snack breaks happening than you or Howzer are
when the project is finished, she'll show you the pictures she secretly took of the two of you working together
there will be a small putty war between the three of you
Howzer is uber proud of the project regardless to how it looks
will have the three of you make little finger prints in a putty spot or write your names hidden in the build, things like that to keep this moment forever
Gregor
is a big goofball but is really handy
don't ask me why, idk, brain says he a handy man
like Jesse level handy
enjoys most of the project process but you better have music playing or he's gonna get bored
is the kind to loudly sing as he works but the songs will be broken by swearing if something irks him only to continue singing like nothing happened
very much wants this to be something you do together
gets upset if you end up doing some of it on your own but not vocally
just like sad Gregor eyes and pouting
you're in charge of breaks, he's going to get carried away and forget
has so many ideas he can barely contain himself
let's you plan it out but will be constantly asking you about changing something cuz he has an aformentioned idea
is super interested in all the tools
you monitor him the first few times cuz his eagerness might end up being dangerous
staple/ nail gun rights are revoked after one "little" accident
he complains loudly about it and whines for a good several days in hopes you'll give in and let him have it back
makes funny details on things
writes stupid notes on his measurments so you can see them when it's handed to you for your part of the project
is very much excited for all of the process
takes pictures every so often so that you can watch it magically get made as you flip through them later on
gloats to anyone who will listen about your and his shared skills in making the thing
Mayday
is very handy
will ask you to explain what it is you want to do and will have a whole in depth conversation with you over it
he's kinda taking over the majority of the work
he really enjoys it but he also wants to do this for you
prefers the manual tools but will use the power ones
straight up has a tool belt that he wears with pride
doesn't matter how ugly it is, he's ready for anything
legit anything you want, he's gonna make happen
prefers to make the thing rather than buy it...but he's not going to fight you if you really want the bought item
will give you points and ideas as the project comes along but leaves the big decisions up to you
whatever parts that you contribute to, he'll praise you for
if it ends up shitty looking or non-functional he's going to gingerly take it apart and fix it for you
likes the whole 'i make, you decorate' idea
dreads any pipe work and will leave it aside for as long as he can
once he's forced to, he's grumbling quietly to himself as he fights it
he's enforcing the breaks like clockwork and will not hesitate to toss you onto his shoulder and forcibly remove you from your project so you can rest
doesn't care if the music is on, but he wants chill stuff - no dance parties for this man
once it's done, he'll just stand in front of / in the middle of your project with you and smothering you in affection and praise over how proud he is for you
Bonus: Omega!!
she tries so hard
she just wants to help you with whatever it is that you're doing
it doesn't matter how slow you go or what you allow her to do or not do, Hunter is going to be hovering and watching her like a hawk
you won't let her use the power tools but you'll let her use the manuals
she's very excited to learn / do anything
a million questions and ideas
she'll rush off in .05 seconds to get one of the others if she thinks they're better at the task
will tend to ferry you items as you work and crowd you because she needs to know everything you're doing
when you let her putty and paint she's having an absolute ball of a time
you'll have to sand like crazy and do another coat of paint...but she's happy
dance parties will take up a lot of time
you don't even mind
there will also be dramatic lipsyncing and singing as you two work together
she measures everything a hundred times before she gives it to yo to cut
then just before you bring the saw down, she'll snatch it and run to measure one last time
is so proud of it when its done she's absolutely buzzing in excitement and will happily yack the ear off of anyone who'll let her
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theskoomacat · 21 days
Text
i want to plug Pacific Drive real quick. i had a free day yesterday so i spent it in its entirety glued to the screen. i'm not proud. check out this game!!!!!!
it's kind of like a mix between STALKER and Firewatch (by vibe. in my head). (the Impact of Roadside Picnic on our society!) idk the official genre tags on the game but at its base it is a survival game with looting and crafting.
but. you're doing all that to spoil your beautiful princess (your maybe sentient cat that maybe will kill you eventually). you spend 80% of the time in your car, it's your defense against the elements and the Zone. the gameplay loop is fairly simple - you drive, you listen to scientists bicker over the radio, you loot, you lose half your car, you HAUL ASS, you get home.
the game offers a HUGE variety of stuff to explore, from anomalies to weather conditions to biomes to the weird flora/fauna to lore. there's SO much lore, idk who decided to write a blurb for every type of paint. huge game for people who love to collect stuff. and collecting stuff is sometimes a puzzle on its own because you need different tools (which are often interchangeable, thankfully, with varying efficiency).
and driving is very fun. i have a special condition called "Played Skyrim in formative years", so the mountains are a challenge to me, not a barrier. i enjoy the fact that driving being the focal point reshapes the world significantly (from the gamedev pov), because it is built to accommodate driving instead of just running around. the roads are the main focus of all the anomalies due to that, so frankly running around would be easier than dodging the roadblocks, but also you would fucking die. it's actually funny that i regularly find the roads by the concentration of anomalies instead of like. the road itself.
the game is pretty. the GIANT walls/lab megastructures blow my mind, they're so fucking huge. BUT. one problem i have is that there are too many nights. i have already toggled "Shorter nights" on, and still it feels like 60% of rounds take place at night (maybe i'm doing something wrong idk). yes, it is a challenge, but also i wish i could see the game?
the world itself is pretty fun. i have already mentioned STALKER, which is a very fair comparison since you're in a Zone filled with Anomalies. except this time the Zone is not a strictly "natural" occurence, which mixes this genre with the "fucked up mid-20th cent american science->military complex" genre. it is really interesting to see many different opinions on what the Zone is doing in the lore. and you can draw your own conclusions from interacting with it. it is as likely to harm you as help you, and most of the time it just Fucks with you (LIM shield ilu).
what hasn't i mentioned yet? the characters are fun, an old jaded scientist lady who's entombed herself within her creation, her ex-colleague and his bf/husband who stayed in the Zone to hunt cryptids, all lovely. the music is mostly good, but unfortunately there aren't too many tracks, so some get old really quick (i WISH i got tired of DOCTOR JUICE). but do check the radio from time to time, there are cool transmissions you can catch there.
idr if there was a difficulty selector anywhere, but you can make the game easier at will in the settings - keep inventory, restore the car when back home, etc. i wish i had known about these settings when i "died" at the EXACT moment i moved to another zone, because i both lost half my inventory AND was forced to continue my run due to that lmao. the game is Not easy tbh. the first time i was in the city with a hole in the center i couldn't climb out of there because it was pitch dark and my car was so so broken, it actually made me super frustrated. but when you learn all that stuff and actually plan for it and outfit your car with it mind, it all becomes manageable and enjoyable. it is decidedly not a horror game, but it Is unsettling at times. dense fog+bigfoot weather conditions made me SO paranoid, although i didn't actually see anything lol
so yeah, i totally recommend the game if you enjoy survival games. here are also some tips for people trying the game out for the first time, aka what I wish I had known:
In the beginning doing more runs (=bringing in more anchors) will be more benefitial than turning over every rock in every zone because a lot of good stuff is locked behind upgrades. One exception - quest zones with Perpetual Stability, you can explore and loot there for an hour if you want
Shorten the nights. It's not fun to stumble around blindly, especially not in the beginning while you're still learning
Hold T to teleport your car out of sticky situations and use Y to sort inventories. idk why they don't tell you that
PLAN. Look at the resources in each location has before launching and bring extra instruments/raw materials in accordance
Invest into better batteries and renewable energy, it gets more and more important as you progress. You don't really need to upgrade the gas tank until you've upgraded the engine, unless you spend 50% of the time trying to crawl up a mountain with summer tires (off-road tires are the shit)
Skip the crowbar, the impact hammer and scrapper can do everything it does
Dying is not super scary aside from losing progress, you just lose your inventory and maybe some attachments, but you will get an opportunity to find the wreckage of your car on a different run (orange tombstone? icon) and to loot it
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creature-wizard · 7 months
Note
Man, witchtok and witchbook sure do love the narrative that Christianity stole everything from them, huh?
So I see that you asked a mutual of mine the same question, while also asking what can be done about this problem. Since said mutual suggested that you come to me for advice here, that's what I'll post.
First of all, understand that this is nothing new. this has always been a popular narrative among neopagans, because it gives people a narrative in which they can frame and talk about their grievances with society. "The Catholic Church stole Christmas" isn't factually true, but it's easier to learn and spread than advanced socioeconomics. People believing this stuff is not a personal failing. It's a consequence of systemic failure. We live in an information crisis, with conservatives effectively sabotaging education at every turn and algorithmic feeds designed to serve up whatever will get the most clicks, not what's most accurate.
The problem, therefore, must be addressed systemically. This means participating in politics, voting on whatever elections you can vote on, spreading relative political news, whatever. Do whatever you can do keep the GOP out of power or from gaining more power. Get involved in political activism circles if you aren't already.
You can also put out your own information to counter the misinformation, and boost or promote good info. Work with the limitations of social media - short, memeable content is always more likely to spread.
When you catch yourself wanting to complain about something you hate, try to find a way to transform it into praise for something you love. Like instead of complaining about people who post misinformation about the goddess Aphrodite, find some cool facts about Aphrodite to post instead.
When you're creating educational content of any kind, follow this very simple guideline: don't shit on the dinner table. That is, don't mix big ranting gripes in with content meant to educate the masses. If you got a big gripe to get out of your system, put that gripe in its own space.
When you do have to address incorrect beliefs specifically, try to avoid shaming believers, because not only does it not work, it's just unnecessary cruelty. Nobody misinforms themselves on purpose. Nobody wants to be a bad person. What we have are a lot of people suffering from systemic fuckery and just want to not feel sad, scared, and helpless, because feeling that way hurts.
(This post is an example of how I took something frustrating and put a positive spin on it. I wrote it when I was feeling pissy about the kinds of problems you mention in your message.)
Prepare to deal with the same misinformation a lot. Like not just intellectually and emotionally, but physically - create FAQs, masterposts, whatever. It can get really frustrating trying to deal with that stuff a million times, but the reality is that there are billions of people in the world and they're making new ones every day.
Keep a list of resources on hand that you can share with people you're talking to, depending on what they're searching for. The fewer steps/resources that are needed to access said resource, the better. Keep a list of podcasts, scholars with YouTube channels, blogs with good information, whatever, that you can just suggest to people looking for info.
And finally, take care of yourself. If you find yourself wanting to rip people's throats out or something, it's time to take a break and focus on yourself.
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melancholysway · 1 year
Note
Hi there! I just found your account today and think your work is amazing! If requests are open, could I possibly request headcanons for the 2012 Turtles for when their S/O is severely stressed out and needs a break? Thank you so so much and keep up the amazing work! :)
TMNT Headcanons: Stressed out S/O! (2012)
OFC! This is my first request so I'm excited! My ask box and submission box will be closed after this weekend so I can work on finishing Serendipity, so request if you like up until then!
For future reference, if my account grows, I'll most likely take 1 or two requests at a time. I like to take time to write what I write, and turn a simple headcanon into something more complex in nature. That being said, you can request a longshot (where there's headcanons + one shot for each turtle,) or a shortshot (where there's just bullet points as headcanons) to make it easier. Some people love a long read, but others prefer a short read that's to the point of strictly headcanons! I respect both! &lt;3
OKAY I JUST WANTED TO SAY THAT LEO'S & DONNIE'S WERE MY FAVORITES TO WRITE WTF.
some tunes while you read:
youtube
Key: ~ = time skip/scene change ============ Leonardo
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Out of all the brothers, Leo gets it.
He gets the most stressed out of all his brothers, but Donnie is a VERY close runner-up.
Leo holds the most stressful burden on his shoulders, so, trust me, he'll be there for you.
He cares about your well-being, so when he notices you've been stressed, he takes matters into his own hands.
Because, in the relationship, Leonardo makes sure you're in a good headspace all the time. He knows the downfall of a broken mind.
So when he texts you suddenly after yet another breakdown of the week and tells you he has a surprise in the lair, you take it.
Because good God, you needed a distraction, and Leo's text was so sweet that you couldn't resist.
"Hana, are you busy? I have something for you and I think it'll help with how you've been feeling lately :)"
Putting on your coat to counter the January air in Manhattan, you quickly make your way downstairs to the lobby of your apartment building. You didn't even bother to doll yourself up, Leo always said you looked better when you were natural.
Now, it's not uncommon for your boyfriend to surprise you. If anything, it was Leo's favorite thing to do. He loves the art of surprise, and how you always have the most beautiful smile upon your lips as he reveals what he has in store for you. But, you were unsure of what he may have. You couldn't think of what he could be up to.
Would he take you out for the nightly rooftop scream he does to get his pent-up frustrations out? (don't tell anyone about that btw.)
Force...I mean, suggest that you watch Space Heroes with him?
You're unsure.
But, you put all theories aside and walk over to the manhole cover you've familiarized yourself with for the past year.
You knew it all-too-well, that if you take a right, then walk straight for 5 minutes, then turn left, and walk again for now 10 minutes, you'll see the abandoned subway station in the distance.
Desperate for some warmth, your hands grasp the heavy black cover, it's edges frosted with light snow, causing your fingers to become numb from the cold. You push it aside and descend down the ladder and into the damp atmosphere and tangy scent that finds its way up your nose.
The walk is quick, as your strides are brisk. You watch the droplets of water land in the mixture of suspicious liquids that was the sewer water. You learned quickly to never walk in it, and you scrunch your nose up as you reminisce about the first time you came down to the sewers to see the turtles.
You see the familiar subway station you've come accustomed to visiting a few times a week- time permitting. You can hear the grunts of Raphael become louder, as you watch him (once again) massacre the poor practice dummy in the living room space.
"Hey, Y/n. I wondered when you'd be coming." Raph acknowledges your presence, but his focus stays on the dummy.
"Sup, Raph, why? am I late?" You ask, you wondered if Leo's text was sent later than he intended due to service issues, and you may actually be late to his surprise.
"Nah," Raph kicks the dummy in its stomach, the weak chains respond with clangs as if they're begging him to stop, "Leo's been in the dojo for a while, said we couldn't go in and spoil the surprise for ya."
"You have me all excited, it's the first time this week I've been giddy about something." You respond, a soft smile dancing on your lips.
"School?"
"School, work, friends, parents, everything. Truly whooping my ass."
"Hey, sorry to hear that." Raphael stops massacring the practice dummy, and he turns to you. "I'm not the best at words...but um...hope you feel better after tonight."
~
After waving goodbye to Raph, you make your way toward the dojo. It's quiet once again, but as you get closer, you can almost...feel a low vibration bubbling from within you. It's odd, but it's calming all the same. You see a piece of paper and a blue paisley bandana on the ground in front of the dojo. You bend down and take the note to read.
Put this on before you come in - Leo
Written nicely in blue ink, how could you defy this order?
As you slide what feels to be the dojo doors open while blindfolded, you can sense that something is different.
"Y/n!" You hear Leo's excited voice say the beautiful name he's gotten engrained into his brain and vocabulary. You smile sincerely, knowing that the only thing visible on your face is your lips. You can hear the sound of Leo's footsteps coming closer, and before he tells you to take off the blindfold, his lips connect to yours in a loving kiss.
The type of kiss you couldn't go one day without having. The type of kiss that makes your whole body feel like jelly. Yeah, that kind.
While you're distracted from the kiss, you feel Leo's hand go from your waist up to the back of your head, and you feel the fabric being lifted from your face.
Pulling away for air, you open your eyes- and the first thing you see is the familiar Prussian blue irises staring back at your e/c ones.
"Surprise."
Leo steps away from you, and you finally see the surprise he's talking about.
The dojo is dimly lit, only white unscented candles being the source of lighting. The normal scent of worn-out birch wood mixes in with a new smell. Its seemingly fruity, yet wooden undertones come about the more you inhale. Along with these, there's a hint of...what is it?
"Patchouli."
"Huh?" You stop smelling the air to find the mystery scent and look at the leader in blue.
"That's the smell you can't put your finger on. Patchouli. I could tell you were confused from the look on your face."
How lucky were you?
Aside from the scents, there are large copper and silver bowls sitting in the middle of the dojo, with a wooden mallet sitting on a velvet red pillow.
"Okay, it may seem too kumbaya," Leo says, his hand immediately going to the back of his neck as it usually does when he's nervous.
"No...it's...what's that sound?" You ask, walking closer to the bowls. The closer you get, the more the sound vibrates throughout your body at a low frequency.
"They're from those Tibetan singing bowls. Buddhist monks used it for meditation throughout India and later on Japan." He points to the bowls sitting together, the three different-sized bowls giving off unique vibrations from one another.
"He gave me these blue lotus incense sticks, too. I burned one not too long before you came, and it really shifts the energy in the room." Leonardo softly takes your hand in his and leads you to the front of the Tibetan bowls, and sits you both down in a kneeling position.
"I know you've been stressed...and Master Splinter let me borrow these when I started heavily meditating. It's a unique way to unwind and destress." Leonardo takes the wooden mallet in his hand, then slowly goes around the largest bowl with it.
At first, nothing happens. But as a few moments go by, you can hear that vibration you felt before you came into the dojo. It seeps into your body, as you can physically feel the negative energy leave your system. Frustration, stress, anxiety- all gone.
At this moment, you're not stressed. At this moment, you have peace and clarity.
You both sit in silence, and you close your eyes for the sound and vibration to fully go into your body. It takes about 3 minutes for the sound to completely go away, and as you open your eyes again to the world, Leo does the same. Only Leo's eyes are looking at you for a response. He hopes that he helped you.
"I...I love it." That is all you can say. It's all you truly can say because it's 1000% how you feel. You loved that Leonardo took the time to find something to destress you. He was truly a gift.
"Y-you do?" His smile stretches from cheek to cheek, and his eyes glint with hope.
"I really do, thank you, Leo; seriously." You interlock your fingers with your boyfriend and lean in to give him a well-deserved kiss. The feeling of his smooth lips upon yours, to the way they went together and danced the same dance they'd rehearsed since the very first kiss was perfect.
Everything was perfect. The kiss, the atmosphere, the surprise, Leo.
Everything was perfect.
=======================
Raphael
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He's not the leader of the group, but boy does this turtle get stressed
doesn't matter about what, it could be the weather, he doesn't give a shit.
if it's something that can cause stress, chances are it's stressed him out.
Raphael knows his style of letting off steam is different from the average person, they don't have their own dojo where they can absolutely annihilate everything they see.
His alternative is breaking stuff
but, he can't exactly break everything in the lair, so he finds other things outside the sewer where it's absolutely okay to break shit
the definition of
"I know a place"
The Place:
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When he finds out you're stressed after overhearing your conversation with Splinter, he's on the job.
He catches you at a good time because you're just about on the brink of a breakdown.
Since he would never go to this abandoned place in the night, he texts you in the afternoon, when the sun is still very, VERY bright and high in the air.
Babe, I have a surprise for you
Be at your window in 10 :*
You hear your phone ding again, and you pick it up already knowing who it is. Nobody double-texts you other than your boyfriend. Heck, Raph even quadruple texts when he's in the talking mood.
Were you even in the mood to see him? Not that you didn't WANT to see him, but you weren't sure if you were in the right headspace. It's been a stressful week, with finals and all. Your two good friends have gotten into a fight and wanted you to take a side, and your parents have been too caught up in their jobs to pay attention to you. It was a terrible situation that was only going to get worse if you couldn't let it all out.
Were you ready to see him? You didn't want to lash out on him or anything from all the pent-up stress.
But still, you find yourself getting ready, putting comfortable clothes on as you just got out of the shower, anticipating Raph's appearance.
As a few minutes went by, you suddenly hear the familiar rhythmic knocks at your window. You take one last look at yourself in the mirror, and you can see bags forming under your eyes from lack of sleep. Not only that, but your eyes have been slightly puffy from the crying you've been doing in the shower. Honestly, that crying session was just the pre-game warm-up. But, the grand breakdown was luckily put on pause thanks to Raphael.
You walk over to your window, and you both follow the routine you've come accustomed to.
"Hey, babe," Raph says, his voice soothing. He used it when he knew he had to be gentle when speaking to you, and it was the same one he used with Chompy.
"Hi, Raph," Your boyfriend places a chaste kiss on your lips, and you find the strength to give him the same energy back. You both share a kiss, his filled with concern, and yours with hopefulness.
"Okay," Pulling away from the kiss, he looks around your room until his eyes land on something.
"It's gonna sound weird but, put this on." You're unsure what this is until Raphael presents a midnight black Nike head tie you had sitting atop your pearl-white vanity. You comply, but your eyes narrow and look straight into his emerald green ones, trying to find the method to this head tie madness.
You find nothing, and thus, the head tie is now a blindfold.
"What now?" You asked, trying your best not to bump into anything around you as you followed Raph's receding voice.
"I forgot, you can't see." You hear a slight chuckle followed by footsteps coming close. A 3-fingered hand grabs your own, as your 5 digits wrap around them in anticipation.
"I'm gonna take you somewhere," Suddenly, Raph's hand leaves yours, and two strong arms pick you up, bridal style.
"But...it's daytime, Red." You use his nickname, to let him know that you appreciate his offer of being taken out of your tiny apartment.
"Where I'm taking ya...you'll be glad it's during the daytime."
Okay, maybe this wasn't the right thing for Raph to say to tease the surprise. It sounded terrifying, and you were left in his arms thinking up every possibility the surprise could be. As Raph slides the window close, you can feel the warm wind of springtime make its way into your hair. It separates the strands, and you could feel the warmth from the air tickle your scalp. You're relying on smell and touch for this trip to...well, you don't know where. But, you smell the usual, the freshly cut grass and the musty remnants of mass pollution from the citizens.
It's a bumpy ride, but it's expected. Whenever Raph takes you roof-hopping, he's always fast and never slow. You faintly hear his light breathing amongst the wind brushing against your face.
~
"It's...it's a..." You hold onto your blindfold, unsure of what exactly you're looking at. After you reached your destination, Raph placed you back on your feet and took off your blindfold with no warning. So, you didn't anticipate seeing what you're looking at now.
"Abandoned factory. Come, this isn't the full surprise" Suddenly, Raph takes your hand into his own, and he leads the way into the graffiti-ridden building.
Abandoned may be an understatement. Maybe demolished? Run-down? On its last limb? You cautiously step over different textures and pass different sceneries, the rays of the sun illuminating the inside of the factory. It's massive, and you can see the open ceiling above you reveal more space and floors the more you walk around at the bottom. It's truly a hidden gem because you would've never thought you could find something like this still standing in the city.
You take in the new world around you, as it feels you're now isolated and far from city life. Nothing moves here but you and Raph; not to mention the small debris falling from the outdated cream popcorn ceiling.
After minutes go by of walking, you reach a room that appears to have been the work area. You wonder what they made here, but you can't think of anything specifically until you see the worn-out sewing machines atop every wooden table.
They rest gracefully as if they're waiting to be used again.
You wonder, 'who's going to break the news and tell them that they never will be?'
"I need you to do two more things for me, babe." You turn to Raphael, who hands you a pair of safety goggles that he definitely stole from Donnie's lab.
"Put this on," You do as told. You watch as your vision gets mildly cloudy from the smudges on the lenses.
You still feel confused, as you're trying to grasp the point of all this.
"Casey let me borrow this last time I was here, so, we should put it to good use, right?" He walks over to a corner of the spacious room and picks up what looks like a baseball bat.
After handing it to you, he takes a deep breath. Raphael was never good at finding the right words in such little time, but right now, it came easy.
He may have rehearsed what he was going to say to you.
"I...I overheard you telling Splinter you've been stressed. I-I...I shouldn't have eavesdropped but...I knew something was off about you, Y/n. I just didn't know what." You watch as Raph's green eyes avoid looking into yours. He must be nervous. I know, Raph and nervous never go in the same sentence, right?
Wrong. Raph gets nervous, especially when talking to you. He's still finding his groove when it comes to talking to his girlfriend.
"I thought about ways to help, but they were all ways that I would normally deal with anger. So...I brought you here." You listen as Raph riles himself up when he was nearing the end of his speech to you. Like I said, words never came easy to Raph, but for you, he was more than willing to take a dive at it.
"It's sort of a way I would deal with being stressed, but it's in a more satisfying way for you. You take all your frustrations on the building to avoid self-destruction, as uh...Leo would say." He smiles, a small one, but you can still see it. It's rare that Raphael smiled, but since he started dating you, it's all his lips felt like doing when he saw you.
You look down at the wooden bat in your hand and then back up at Raph.
"I...you thought this through so much...this is so sweet of you, Raph. Truly. I could use an outlet to let everything out." Your lips curl into a smile, one of the few you've done this past week due to the stress you've been under.
Raphael came at the best time, you would've cried and trashed your room alone. But, you had Raph.
"It's what I'm here for, Y/n. Let it all out." He steps back, far away from you for you to use the baseball bat.
Poor factory.
You take a deep breath, before readying your bat and swinging at one of the sewing machines. It crashes on the ground, its red paint on the outside cracking and breaking off.
"Stupid...fucking...school!" You yell in between hits. Your breathing is heavy, but you don't care. You also don't care that you may look crazy in front of Raph. Honestly, he was right. You had to let it all out; no matter what.
"Stupid…fucking friends that put ME…in the middle of THEIR bullshit!" You swing again, and again, and again. You wind up hitting a sewing machine in the process, and watch as its red paint chips off once it hits the ground.
You continue like this for a while; hitting chairs, shattering glass, hell, you even ditch the bat and start throwing things with your bare hands.
It goes on for a while, and after you throw the last innocent sewing machine on the ground, you sink to the floor to catch your breath and calm down.
"You alright?" He asks.
"I see why you do that…." Raphael helps you up, and he takes the goggles off your face.
"…Why you take your anger out that way…it's…"
"Satisfying?" Raphael finishes your sentence, and you laugh in response.
"Very. Very satisfying," You place a kiss on Raph's left cheek, and you watch as it turns light pink from the feeling of your lips. "Thank you Red, really."
"Anytime. Let me know if you ever need to destress, and I'll find more places like this that you can wreck to your heart's content." With that, Raphael takes your hand once more, and leads you back to the entrance you both came from.
How lucky were you to have someone like Raphael help you out in times like this.
And better yet, how de-stressed you felt after this whole thing.
=================================
Donatello
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Okay, Donnie's way of dealing with stress is pretty...weird.
The man reads academic journals for fun, so, that should tell you all you need to know about how he deals with it
Donnie thinks you're avoiding him at first. You haven't been coming to the lair as much as you usually do, but he doesn't want to pry. Donatello was never the type to confront you about something. Actually, anyone for that matter. He just wasn’t the confrontational type.
But, when April and Casey come over to the lair without you for the 5th time this week, he’s lost. 
That is, until April lets him know what’s been up with you.
“I’m not sure what exactly it is…maybe finals week? Y/n’s been studying like crazy, especially for the honors classes. 
You’re stressed! That was it. Donnie figured that much. 
He thinks about the stuff he usually does to get rid of any stress, but they’re not ideal. He can’t make you invent something or talk to Timothy, that’s his style of doing things. He had to get into your mind. 
What could he do to make you feel better?
“Are you free today?”
“I’ve got a surprise for you, but it requires me to come over. And…it’s going to need a large time slot for it to be a proper surprise :D”
You reread the text your boyfriend sent you. It was enticing, and you wondered what it could be. Lately, you’ve been staying home more cooped up in your room. Finals week was coming up, and you were swamped with studying. It was all you did. Eat, sleep, and study. So much so, that you started getting nervous about the upcoming exams. You were having so much anxiety over finals that it stressed you out severely. It wasn’t one specific kind of stress. It's an odd description, but this stress that feels like a big cloud looming over you everywhere you go. It wouldn’t go away, no matter how much you tried.
 It took a toll on your room, too. Your room became messier than the average teen's. You had a pile of clean laundry you never took the time to put away, and packets of study guides for all classes sprawled across your desk and onto the floor. Your bed was undone, and you sat in the middle of your room, reading Donnie’s text again for the third time. 
It was bad enough you haven’t been down to the Lair lately, and it would be even worse if you turned his surprise down. Donatello does things out of the kindness of his own heart. You’ve noticed this time and time again. He would do something or make something really special for you, and ask for nothing in return. Don’t get me wrong, you loved to get him different things that piqued his interest or plan out fun dates around the lair or your apartment, but Donatello was truly a special turtle. 
Your thumb hovers over the send button. You get a slight wave of excitement from the idea of seeing your boyfriend and what he might have in store for you. Pressing send, you lay and gaze at the dull white ceiling of your room. 
You start to wait for Donnie’s arrival, but then you wonder if you should tidy up. 
In all seriousness, it really wasn’t THAT bad. You’ve seen Mikey’s room before, and Lord, that boy needs help in there. It also would make time go faster and before you know it, Donnie will come knocking at your window. 
You groggily get up from your spot on the bed and begin to slowly gather all the study guides in your hand, making sure not to bend or crinkle the edges of the papers. You have about 3 packets for each subject, so, yeah, being overwhelmed is an understatement. 
You place them all in one pile on your desk and decide that it was enough tidying up after you made your bed. Your clean clothes could wait to be put away.
You were in the middle of separating past tests by the subject when you suddenly hear the knocks that were exclusive to Donatello. He always knocks quietly at first because he doesn’t want to be rude or scare you, but then he realizes you can’t hear it, so the knocks gradually get louder. 
A glint of happiness seeps into your eyes as you see Donnie’s gap-toothed smile through the window, but it doesn’t help the fact that the cloud is still hovering above you. 
Sliding open the window, you invite the sunlight into your seemingly dark room. It was still the middle of the day, and you were surprised Donnie came over when it was still daytime. But, he’s a ninja, he’s smart. He knows how to get to your place undetected. 
You completely give in as Donnie steps in and embraces you in a tight hug after setting down three large brown plastic bags he brought with him. 
“Dove, how are you? Honestly.” Donnie asks as he strikes your hair. Feeling comfort in his arms like you usually did, you couldn’t lie about how you felt anymore. Plus, from the sincere tone in Donnie’s voice, he already had an idea. 
“Not…not so good. I haven’t been this stressed out in a long time. It’s horrible, I mean, look at my room, Don.” 
“Hey,” Donatello lifts your chin with his green finger and smiles, “I've seen Mikey’s room, believe me, I’m not judging.”
You couldn’t help but softly smile, and you place a loving kiss on Donnie’s lips. Like always, Donatello melts. He's been melting since the first kiss you both shared 6 months ago. He couldn’t help it, he was finally being loved- and that’s all he wanted. 
Donatello was truly a gem, and when he tells you to close your eyes, you can’t help but think of all the things he may have to ease your mind as you comply. 
~
“Painting?” You tilt your head and look at your boyfriend. Donatello presents to you a wide smile that displays his cute gap as he begins to tell you why he chose painting to help you. 
“Precisely! I remember you talking about how much you hated the cream color and wanted something nicer, so I researched colors that are known to lift moods…” Donnie kneels down and uses a box cutter to get the first can of paint open. Once it’s fully cut, he lifts the lid, and you can see the sunflower yellow paint glisten from the seeping sunlight from the window. 
 “And I found this. Making paint from scratch is really simple. It’s pigment, binder, the actual liquid, and some additives…and…sorry, I’m going on a tangent.” You watch as Donatello stops himself from speaking about his entire process for making this paint for your room, but it makes it all the more special. Donnie MADE paint, a custom color just for you to make you feel better. How fucking sweet was that?
You look at the paint once again, and it’s so glossy, you can faintly see your reflection drowning in the yellow hue. “Now, I know it’s bright,” The ninja in purple starts, “but according to color psychology, the color of a room has a significant impact on human behavior and mood.”  He opens another plastic bag, and he’s managed to fit large paint rollers and paint trays. Not only that, he’s even gotten painter's tape to help with the fine lines and smaller paint brushes. 
You never really thought about how the color of your room has an impact on your mood. As you look around, you imagine your room the same color as the one in the can. 
  You can imagine a dramatization of white tulips and lilacs growing in your room from how bright and lively it’ll be after it’s painted. 
“Don…” Donatello truly thought of the best solution to your problem, and you couldn’t be any more grateful
“Yeah? Wait, you don’t like it? Is it too much? Is it the color? I happen to really enj-“
“No no no Donnie, it’s great.” You walk up to Donnie’s hunched form over the paint cans and wrap your arms around his neck from behind. You can feel his hands touch yours, and his deep brown-red eyes close with satisfaction. He did it again, he got something right for you. 
“I would love to spend the day with you painting my room.”
You and Donnie both take the time to quickly move all furniture up against the walls to the middle of the room. It’s fairly easy since your small room in the apartment doesn’t have much. A vanity, a dresser, a nightstand, even your bed. But, you get it done. 
You take down any posters that are up on your walls, and it’s finally bare. It’s a disgusting dull cream shade, and you couldn’t despise it more. After getting the tape to block parts that normally didn’t get painted, it was finally time!
“Are you ready?” Donnie asks as he hands you a roller. It’s not heavy, but as soon as you dip it in the large tin that your boyfriend put the yellow paint in, you can feel the weight increase as the roller soaks up all the liquid it can to saturate the wall. 
“I’m excited…I haven’t painted in a while.” You initially thought Donatello was bringing paint so you guys could just relax and paint some pretty pictures together, but honestly, this was so much better.
You start on the wall in front of you, thinking of where you should start the roller first. Now, you wanted it to look good, so you decide to start rolling from top to bottom, applying light pressure in the beginning, before gradually placing more for the paint to transfer onto the wall. You watch as the new sunflower yellow replaces that nasty color you initially had, and comparing it after just a few strokes you can already tell the gorgeous difference. It was going to look absolutely beautiful when it was done. 
Once you start getting the hang of it, you and Donatello divide and conquer, as you learned pretty quickly that you couldn’t reach the higher parts of the wall. 
But, that’s the benefit of having a tall mutant turtle as a boyfriend, Donnie got to those hard-to-reach spots with no problem!
~
It took hours. But, those were the least stressful hours you’ve had for the past couple of weeks. Not once did the thought of finals cross your mind, as you were distracted with Donnie. He took his time, as did you, to try and drag this whole painting project longer than it probably should go. But, time didn’t matter to you right now. What mattered was that Donatello was with you, painting your room. You were nearing the end of the project, as you had less than half of the final wall to go. Donnie took it upon himself to make any conversation- and you both spoke of mundane topics. Mundane until Donatello heard something you said about a certain conspiracy theory that piqued his interest. 
“I mean, it’s science. What idiot would say the world is fl-ah! Whoops! sorry, Y/n.” You feel something cold land on your cheek, and you stop painting the wall to feel what it is. As you wipe the unknown substance off and look at your hand, you see there are remnants of yellow paint covering your fingers. 
You look at Donatello, putting up a front as if you’re shocked he just did that. As he stumbles upon his words to apologize again, you dip your finger in the tin of yellow liquid and fingerpaint his bicep.
“Whoops, sorry, Donnie!” You giggle as the purple-banded turtle turns red from your touch until he snaps out of it and dips his own finger in the paint, only to cover your nose in it. 
“Sorry!” He exclaims sarcastically. Oh sweet innocent Donnie and his sassiness. 
“Oh, you’re gonna get it now Don!” What turned from a normal room painting project amongst two people that just so happened to be a couple, shifted into an all-out paint fight between them. You haven’t felt so free in weeks. 
Stifling your laughter, you try and wiggle out of Donnie’s grip on top of you as he tickles your sides, trying to make you say “mercy.”
“Okay okay! Mercy! Mercy! Uncle!” You say in between laughs. You both stop and catch your breaths, and Donnie- covered in paint like you- dives in to kiss your lips. Despite them having paint on them, he didn’t care. It was a cute moment that he would be thinking about for the next couple of months. You both stay like this, and Donnie’s lips work yours like they usually do, and you could feel him smiling into the kiss. You give in, too, and smile as well. Kisses from Donatello were something that you craved.
“Thank you, Donnie. It means a lot to me that you did this.” You say after the slew of kisses end. He smiles and chuckles nervously, “Anytime. My sweet angel.”
~
If you were wondering, once you were done, it came out amazing. It was just like you imagined it. Once the furniture was put back in place (not touching the wall, Donatello would help move it back once the paint fully dried,) you take a moment to let it seep in. Your room was a breath of fresh air, and that’s what you needed right now. You felt this imaginary cloud that sat atop you in your room fade away, and you could almost feel your newly yellow walls smiling back at you.
===============================
Michelangelo
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Mikey is always pretty laid-back and energetic.
He rarely gets stressed, unless it’s during a mission and he’s done something to fuck the team up
Then at that moment, he’s stressed.
He usually deals with it in a very “mikey” way.
He may go skateboarding in the sewers, or take a chance and try and skateboard on the rooftops. Don’t do that second one if you’re not mikey, it’s pretty dangerous. 
He’d also just sit down and eat a few slices of pizza, nothing extreme, but indulging in your favorite food in moderation is something that can make you feel better!
When you first start dating, you always found yourself wanting to be around Mikey, as he was never a negative turtle. He was always so happy, so much so that it even made you question why. Not in a bad way, but you wondered how he could stay so positive.
So when he notices something is off about you, he has something very special planned. 
He shoots you a text, hoping you’ll accept his offer and come down to the Lair today.
Heyyyy gorgeous! I know you haven’t been feeling so good, so I was wondering if you wanted to come down and see the super duper awesome surprise I have for you :D?
Now, who are you to turn down Mikey? You couldn’t allow your stress to take over your love life, as it already had taken over your academic and social life. Regents exams were coming up, and everyone knows New York students despise those- especially you- because you just so happened to get a terrible math teacher this year and were worried about failing. On top of this, your friend group had gotten terribly complicated. It seemed that drama followed your friends, and you were seriously considering finding some new ones. All of this being said, it took a toll on your mental health. Your life, as you knew it, was getting stressful. So much so, that you sat in your bed on the weekends, not really interacting with anyone but your parents if they came into your room. 
You sadly haven’t been texting Mikey as much as you usually do, and you hoped he didn’t take it the wrong way. But, as you reread his message once again, you think about how he noticed the changes in you without even asking. Raph may clown him at times, but Mikey was extremely observant.
You peeled the covers off of you and got out of your bed, wondering if you should even make it up. 
“That one navy guy said to always make your bed in that one speech...” You say out loud. It’s may seem dumb, but that one navy guy is right. If you have the willpower to do something so small as making your bed, you’ll have the willpower to overcome the hardship in your life.
You decide to make your bed. It didn’t make you less stressed, but you felt hope for how the rest of your day will go. You’re looking forward to seeing your boyfriend, as he was your break from all the mess in the world that was your life. 
You look out into the city sky through your window before leaving, and you see the many hues of orange and yellow merging as the sun sets. Orange, huh, it reminds you of Mikey. You make your way down to the stairs of your apartment building, and soon to the outside. You feel the cool air hit your face, as the nearing summertime weather was approaching. You wondered what you would do this summer IF you were to pass your mathematics regents. You thought about the farmhouse April took you and the guys to last summer.
 It was your first actual vacation with the turtles and their sensei, and it was seriously relaxing. You were far away from the city, as upstate New York was quiet- Suffolk County being one of those quiet places. You were able to have quality time with the turtles as a group, and then also have quality time with your boyfriend, Mikey. You guys did a lot together, you paired up for the volleyball game (and lost badly against Leo and Raph,) tried to fish (you landed in the lake,) and even made a fire together! (Thank you, Google.) Needless to say, you were looking forward to the next trip to April’s farmhouse. 
This thought also made you more anxious for the exam, so you distract your mind by quickly getting to the manhole cover and going down into the sewer. You had gotten used to the smell over time, and it was nearing summer- where the smell would get progressively worse as the temperature rises. But, you had been down here enough times to where the smell didn’t bother your nose as much. Plus, the Lair smelled 1000x better than the actual sewer tunnels. 
Speaking of the Lair, you made it!
“Y/n! Hey!” You’re greeted by Leonardo, who’s sitting in front of the TV. You can hear voices that belong to Captain Ryan and his crew, so you’re lucky that Leo even noticed you. He’s usually always into the show that he tunes everything out around him. Unless, you know, Raph makes a comment about how dumb the show is. 
“Hey, Leo. Another marathon?” You ask as he turns his head to you, the TV lights illuminating his face. 
“Yeah, I got dibs on the TV tonight and everything!” It was comical to see Leo out of “leader mode,” he seemed so happy today. 
“Any idea where Mikey is?” You ask, looking around the living space. You see Raph sitting on the couch behind Leo reading a comic and feeding his pet turtle a few leaves. Don’t even get me started on the irony of this picture. Anyway, there’s no sign of Donatello, but you hear faint humming coming from the kitchen far off on the opposite side of the living space. 
“He’s in the kitchen, he nearly kicked me out for trying to feed Spike. Almost malnourished the poor guy saying I would ‘mess his flow up.” Raph says as Spike chews on his leaf. He nods his head at you to say hello, and you wave in response. 
“Thanks,” After talking to the brothers in red and blue, you make your way over to the kitchen. Out of all the areas in the Lair, the kitchen was special. Why? There’s a cat in the freezer. It was comical, one day you were grabbing an ice pack for Mikey, and you were shocked to see a literal ice cream kitty hand you one and meow happily at you. Like Raph with Spike, Mikey really loved that kitty, plus he felt bad that he mutated it accidentally, but, Ice Cream Kitty seemed pretty happy. 
You turn the corner and see your boyfriend, Mikey, with a “kiss the cook” apron on. He wore it for “special meals” as he would put it. You wondered what was so special about tonight’s food.
“Hey, Mikey?” You call out, he’s getting something out of the cabinet before he sees you. But, when he does, it’s over.
“Y/n! Oh my sweet angel Y/n!” Mikey smiles and pulls you into a loving hug, and you faintly smell remnants of vanilla on him. 
“Okay, so, surprise! We’re bakin’! You know, according to Google, I read that baking is good for the mind, I knew my awesome cooking skills will come in handy!” Mikey cheered as he gave you a quick kiss on the cheek. You wondered what you were going to bake with him. As you looked around the table at the different baking ingredients, you concluded it would be a cake. 
“We’re making a cake?” You ask as you walk around the table. You smiled as you saw the different colors of icing sprawled across the top. 
“Aw yeah! You have the professional uncertified chef here to help, too! I know your mood has been down, with school and stuff- and I know school causes stress…so I thought this would help.” You watch the orange-clad turtle give his puppy eyes at you, hoping that this would be the way to convince you to unwind and bake with him.
Mikey didn’t need the puppy eyes this time around, him thinking of this activity was more than enough to swoon you over. 
“I think it’ll help more than you think,” Michelangelo’s eyes get a glint of happiness in them from your response, and you place a kiss on his lips, “Thank you, for thinking of me and how to help out.” 
“Anything for my sweet sweet sweet…sweet…hold on…that’s too many sweets, sweet sweet angel Y/n!” His bright blue eyes glance into yours as he cheeses. 
~
Mikey may be an uncertified unlicensed chef with no study in culinary school, but, he surely knows a thing or two about baking. 
It makes this process stress-free, and that was his intention. He measures out everything for you so all you have to do is mix it in and watch the magic happen. This part is fun alone, as you watch the sugar be mixed in with the melted butter, creating a sand-like texture before the sugar is totally dissolved. Mikey’s careful with the eggs, as he went off the instructions when they said to add the eggs after melting the butter. 
“I don’t think you want scrambled eggs in your cake.” He says, stopping you from cracking the egg into the golden liquid. 
You feel the side of the bowl after mixing the sugar and butter, your hand feeling the bowl cool down, as the sugar lowers the temperature. You then continue mixing the liquid ingredients together, while Mikey measures out the dry ingredients in a separate bowl. You wanted to make a marble cake, so you were soon separating the liquid mixture in half while your boyfriend did the same with the dry, only adding cocoa powder to one of the halved bowls. 
After some time, you’re ready to combine the dry and wet ingredients together. Mikey hands you the orange rubber spatula, and you gently fold the ingredients together in each bowl, careful not to over-mix. You and Mikey continue joking around and for the first time this week, you’re having fun. You’re not thinking about school, or anything else negative. No, this activity has managed to clear your mind in a positive way. 
“Awww yeah! In the oven it goes!” You used a skewer to mix the chocolate part into the vanilla, creating that marble effect you were desiring. After this, you and Mikey hold it together and place it in the preheated oven at a toasty 350 degrees for 25 minutes. 
While you wait, you think about what you should decorate the cake with. Mikey hasn’t mentioned anything about it, but it’s probably because he’s losing to Ice Cream Kitty at Uno. It’s so funny to watch Mikey get beat at his own game, as he whines after the cold kitty throws down yet another draw 4. Cheating or not, it’s comical to watch a cat play cards. Uno at that. 
~
Now that the cake is out of the oven, you and Mikey agreed on waiting 15 minutes so it could cool down for decorating.
Watching the Uno match in front of you, your lips form into a smile, and you let out a giggle as Ice Cream Kitty meows in response to Mikey’s whining, as they secretly show you their last two cards. Yeah, Mikey’s toast.
Mikey gets hit with a blue skip as Ice Cream Kitty beats him to yell “Uno” first, and then places down their final card: a red skip.
“You definitely cheated!” Mikey exclaims as the Neopolitan kitty climbs off the table and shimmy’s up the fridge back into the freezer, ignoring Mikey’s antics. The timer you set on your phone goes off, and as you poke the top of the cake, the surface is completely cooled and ready to be iced.
“What were you thinking to put on it?”  You asked, opening the red icing while Mikey the orange. 
“Um...well, I was thinking of leaving that to you. You know, to do the honors. Now, I know we’re not all gifted with artistic greatness, butttttt I trust you to do it.” He jokes, earning an eye roll and a nudge on the arm from you.
You first grab the white frosting that's off to the side, realizing you had to paint the cake first before actually putting a design on it. Grabbing the silver-angled spatula, you dip it into the Pillsbury container and begin to maneuver the cake tool to fully cover the cake in white sugary goodness. With the cake cooled, it’s a breeze. 
You look around the cake at every angle, making sure you got every corner and cranny. As you grab the red icing you opened earlier, you grip it in your hand and hover on top of the cake. But, you stop. 
What should you decorate it with? Actually, what should you write? That’s what bakers did, right? They wrote nice sayings in beautiful script, right?
A thought pops into your head, and it causes Mikey to tilt his head in confusion as you get a devious look on your face. 
You apply pressure to the small icing bag, and watch as the red icing writes the words you’re thinking of in your head, letter by letter. You tell Mikey to turn around so he couldn’t see, and he complies. 
After a few more minutes, you put the half-full icing bag down, and admire your work. 
“Okay, Mikey, you can turn back around! Look!” You smile at your work, despite the letters looking absolutely atrocious. It looked like Donnie’s chicken scratch handwriting. But, it says what you were thinking, and that’s what matters. 
As Mikey turns around, he reads the cake quickly before snickering at the sight. 
“I guess there are people with artistic greatness! We have to show Raph. And hide it from Splinter, but also cut him a piece, you know?” He says, handing you the cake cutter as he screams for Raph. As Raph comes over (not before scolding Mikey for yelling,) he looks down at the cake before you stab the middle of it to cut.
“Huh. Somethin’ I would do. Nice, Y/n.” The green-eyed turtle compliments.
To: Stress
Fuck You Bitch!!!!!
Love, Y/n ❤️
After you give Leo and Raph their pieces, you cut Mikey’s, purposefully giving him the slice with the heart on it. 
“For you, because I love you. Thanks, Mikey.” Mikey’s eyes light up, and his freckled cheeks have a slight pink tint after you dive in for an overdue kiss.
Best stress reliever ever.
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