#or hire a hit on me I'm not picky

[werewolf-transgenderism]

yeah

#me every day : surely this can't be worse #and then it is in fact worse #:/ #somebody sedate me #or hire a hit on me I'm not picky

[ettadunham]

hi! just yesterday i finally received the confirmation that i got my very first Real Full-Time Job (have been working and doing internships since i was a teen tho), so if you got any advice to survive in the capitalist hell, especially in the beginning, i'm all ears 😭

Anon, I now feel intense pressure to not lead you astray (is this what an older sibling might feel? I'm new to the experience 😂), so I'll start with a disclaimer, like any good little capitalist organization trying to deflect blame: none of what I'm saying might apply to your situation or be helpful in any way.

To be more specific, my advice should not be considered much at all if you're working at a state-funded job instead of a private one, and only maybe partially if you're working at a small business or the service industry. I've only ever been working at corporate jobs because I live alone with my cat and I need to pay rent somehow, so that's all I can speak for.

Okay? Okay. Let us proceed.

You can always just leave.

This truly is the number one rule in a neoliberal hypercapitalistic system. You are already regarded as a resource rather than a human being, so anyone telling you that you should have "company loyalty" or anything the like can shove it up their ass.

Of course, you do still need to consider your own situation. Even if you have enough support to get by for a few months, 9 out of 10 times I'd still advise actually getting a new job offer before handing in a resignation, because then you have more leverage and can be more picky about your new job.

However, I also did the thing that you're not supposed to do when I resigned from my first job personally, and I never really regretted it. It did force me to eventually apply for the same type of job that I didn't initially want to do, but it was a much nicer company and an enormous improvement on not just my mental but physical health (I was literally diagnosed with high blood pressure while working at my first job), so... yeah. If it sucks, hit da bricks, as long as there's a support system behind you.

2. Actually... you should consider quitting every 3 years.

In the corporate landscape, it's actually beneficial to switch jobs from time to time, because they will not raise your pay as much as its value goes up in the job market. This is a fact everyone is aware of, as well as how it actually costs more to hire and train new people every 2 years instead of just keeping the old ones, but alas, it's how shareholder capitalism works. All that matters is the next quarterly report.

That being said, not all of us like change, in fact, most people would prefer to have a stable job where they can just go, have a coffee with their old colleagues at the water cooler, do their shift and go home. Corporate propaganda will have you believe that workers just simply prefer to bounce from one place to another, but in reality, it's more of a necessity that comes from stagnating wages, changing expectations, and a general uncertainty about job security.

So... yeah, it's a bit more depressing when I put it that way, isn't it? But the point stands, especially if you feel like your job might not be secure, it's worth looking around. Maybe even look into adjacent positions where you can develop other skills if you really want to be the bestest boy (gender neutral) at capitalism.

You can of course also just move within the company you're working at if they have the flexibility. They love hiring from inside because then they can underpay you compared to new hires while keeping your knowledge in-house. But, I mean... you get new skills and don't have to change much about your environment? It's all about the symbiosis between worker and corporation where you're always the one getting leeched from anyway. <3

3. Drain them for all their worth.

Chances are, your corporate overlord might have some benefits for you. Make sure to look into it and use all of it. I know that for Americans healthcare is a big issue, so definitely look into what your corporate package offers on that, but also see if there's anything else. Can you go on business trips so you can travel more? Do they offer 20% off on gas? Reimburse you on certain purchases? Can you use your company's money to learn some programming to help you apply to your next job?

Have no shame about coming back with receipts every two weeks. If it's part of the package, it's part of the package. It's already in the company's budget anyway, they do not care.

4. Get along with people.

This is both more important and more complicated than it might look at first blush. Or maybe you're already seeing all the potential problems with this point.

Your workplace is much like high school where you're locked in and forced to interact with a bunch of strangers that you otherwise wouldn't choose to talk to. And you gotta do it every. single. day. Even just thinking about it exhausts my smol undiagnosed authistic heart.

But! I would venture to say that trying to get to know and get along with all those people is the most important thing you can do at your job. Sometimes even more so than actually doing your job, lol. Obviously, the most important part is your own team, but if you're at an office, talk to people at the coffee machine. Ask them about what they do, have small talks, etc. Make the effort to socialize a bit. Go to events if they're during work hours, and use your judgement if it's after work hours. Don't let yourself get sucked in into the whole 'we're a family' company culture and let it take over your life, but if it's something you'd enjoy (e.g.: we have a monthly board game club where I work currently), then it's a good way to build solidarity. And... *sigh* connections.

I did say it's like high school, didn't I? It's all about who you know baybey.

That being said... It's all easier said than done if you don't fit into the status quo and stick out in any way shape or form. Shocker, I know.

People also just have differing views, and you need to learn to deal with that somehow. Sometimes it turns out that whatever seemed like an end-of-the-world division on the internet is not all that important of a difference in reality. And sometimes it's much worse.

The thing you need to keep in mind here is that corporate culture generally loathes disruption, so you're not likely to encounter people saying slurs. Well, you're also not supposed to punch people for saying slurs though. It's all about the delicate balance of whatever is acceptable in polite society, and as long as that line's not crossed, you can either bite your tongue and sell a bit of your soul to the neoliberal gods for your survival, or push back mildly. You know. In a "polite" way uwu.

In any case, if you feel like the environment is too hostile, see point 1. Hit da bricks. Some workplaces are infected by assholery and mismanagement. Use your judgement, etc. If you're like me, living in a protofascist nation right now, you might just resign to the fact that more things are acceptable in polite society than you'd like, and you need to pay your bills instead of arguing with a middle manager about immigrants.

Okay, are we depressed enough about general corporate culture already? Cool. Let's see some actual useful tips then.

5. Talk to the people on your team and be a united front.

Does your company have a union? Then you should join that first thing, but as I've never really had that, I can't tell you much about that experience. What I do know, is that you should always form a united front with your immediate co-workers.

For instance, do you and your team members do the same thing? Then ask them about how much time they take to finish a task. If they say they take a day for something that in reality takes about 4 hours, then do the same. Don't be the asshole telling your boss that you finished it in 3 hours. And most importantly, never snitch on your teammates.

(Speaking of that example, you should also just overestimate how much time something would take. That's just good practice anyway. <3)

But yeah, the bottom line is that your teammates are your first line of defense against any kind of higher up shenanigans. Help each other out, discuss wages, stand your ground together. If you can build solidarity outside of your team, that's even better, but your teammates are the ones who can immediately step up for you if needed.

Obviously, realistically you can only give back as much as you receive. If your team doesn't feel the solidarity juice quite as much as you do, there's not much you can do about it other than give an opening and then adapt. At the end of the day, corporate culture incentivices individual achievement over collectivism despite all their empty slogans like "team work" or whatever.

Speaking of which...

6. Advocate for yourself.

So I am going to go completely against my previous point by saying that you need to speak up and advocate for yourself individually. If you want a raise, then call up your team lead, and tell them that you want a raise. Bring them the facts about your work, your achievements, if you have some of those juicy KPI numbers and they make you look good, then read them up, talk about how long you've been at the company, about inflation, the company's self-proclaimed growth... Give them an expectation even, and be prepared to talk in detail about how you are in fact the most bestest at your work actually, and politely imply that you might need to look elsewhere otherwise.

That being said... It's also just good practice to talk about your team's achievements as well. Last time I did this, I actually managed to get all of my team a small raise, even without trying all that much for a collective bargaining. In a healthy team environment, you should be able to talk up each of your team members in one way or another. You might be told that there's a limited amount of money going around for these raises, but it's not like you were ever gonna get more of it. Corporations will pay you as little as possible at every step of the way.

See point 1 and 2 again.

So, yeah. Make sure to advocate for yourself, especially if you've been at the company for a while (the time period here might vary, but bringing it up after a year is a good start if there's been no raises), or heard that you were getting less than your coworkers. Be your own hype man, while not talking down the rest of your team. Otherwise they might "forget" to pay you any of your deserved compensation.

This also goes in other aspects as well. If you're at a chill workplace, you can always bring it up to your boss if you hate your current work, and want to do something else. Employers are usually more accomodating for these types of complaints, and might even help you find other tasks or even a different position in the company, depending on the opportunities. (They might just try to give you more work at first though, lol, so be specific.) And if they're not chill... well, there's not much to lose, because you should already be thinking about point 1 again.

7. Work less, bullshit more.

This is it! This is the point that we are here for.

How to do as little work as humanly possible without getting at the top of the firing list. The true mysteries of the universe. We'll be combining some of what we learned in the previous points for this.

First things first, no, you should never bring your 100% for a bullshit corporate job. You might think that they'll appreciate it and you for it, but the truth is, whatever bonus or raise you might be getting is not gonna be all that much. And it's not going to worth all the effort you put into it.

Remember, corporations will always pay you as little as possible and toss you away at the first sign of inconvenience.

No, all that work is going to do to you is burn you out, and infringe upon your family or social life. If you're doing grunt work especially, then make sure to keep your boundaries. Keep a table about your work hours, even if it's not kept by your workplace, and make sure to keep it always at 8 or whatever your required hours are. Don't answer your email or phone outside of that window.

Even when it comes to your work hours, make sure to take breaks, take your time with your lunch. It's actually kinda unhealthy to work for 8 hours straight anyway, your brain is gonna be a mush by the end.

And also, as we talked about it, make sure to coordinate with your co-workers if they're doing the same or similar jobs. Find the optimal way to do your tasks in a way that's going to stay consistent with the expectations.

If you have a kind of job, where you have set goals, try to reach those, and if you have a bit of downtime, use it. You can ask for new tasks eventually, but don't rush it, if you have the opportunity, take a breather.

There are workplaces that might try to monitor your work, especially in home office, but as long as things are done, most workplaces do not care how much you napped during your work hours. However, if you're worried about seeming inactive on your laptop for instance, there are workarounds on that too. I have a powershell script that presses the capslock button every minute for 2 hours (for legal reasons, this is only for those times when I'm running a python script through a VPN connection, which standby mode would kill otherwise 😂), but I've had a friend who just opened word and put something on her space button. The human ingenuity when it comes to avoiding work is boundless.

The only consideration here is that you should still try to check your chat from time to time, but that can also depend on your workplace. Most people don't care if you reply them 2 hours late, no one's available 24/7.

That all being said, you might still want to secure your job a bit more other than doing the bare minimum, but the good news is, having all that downtime actually means that you can think about other things too if you choose! Maybe even ways to improve your job as it is. Or maybe just talk with someone at the water cooler. Never underestimate the power of talking to people at the water cooler tbh.

Also consider this: if you're doing your job too well, your reward most likely is going to be.... more work! And it's gonna be unpaid work at that. I know, because I somehow never managed to avoid this one, despite doing my best and napping as much as possible.

In conclusion, Bullshit Jobs™ deserve Bullshit Work. <3

#is this helpful anon? i'm not sure it's helpful lmao #at least it's long i guess #capitalism is hell #messages #anon

[diagonal-queen]

NIGHTGOWN ANON HERE omg what if im NIA? short for NIghtgown Anon :) maybe that could be a writing name for me? idk lol im shit at writing decent stories

- Poe x Artist Reader: Reader illustrates the covers for Poe's books (accidentally put boobs instead of books the first time haha)

- Poe x Cook Reader: You were the Guild's chef but now that it was abandoned, Poe hired you to cook for him!

- Poe x Doctor Reader: Aw man he got hurt. Don't worry! Doctor Reader is here to bandage him up!

- Poe x Retail Reader: Reader didn't choose Retail. Retail chose Reader.

- Poe x Vet Reader: Karl

- Poe x Idol Reader: Now it's random

- Everyday you shower Poe with face kisses to wake him up, he gets extremely flustered, even though you've been doing it for years. You keep doing it just to wake him up

- Poe is like Reader's shadow at parties, constantly clinging to her because of his shy nature.

- Reader and Poe both die in a corner at parties because they're shy.

- The reason Poe was able to meet Reader was because he hired someone to go outside and do errands for him (ex: get food)

omg my brain is melting i have so many more ideaassss but THEYRE NOT COMINNNGGG

THAT'S IT DID YOU SEE I USED PROPER CAPITALIZATION(KINDA) THIS TIME YEAH? im so cool. HAVE A GREAT DAY MY LOVE! TAKE CARE! ❤️

okay so first of all NIA is SUCH A CUTE NAME OMG it kinda sounds like a j-pop star name lmaoaooaoaoaa anyways. you're nia now i decided. you don't have a say in the matter /j anyways i have things to say about all of these.

poe x artist reader who creates illustrations for his novels lowkey gives me Dorian Gray vibes? like imagine reader going to a library or a bookstore or something one day and seeing one of poe's books and on the cover it names the author and illustrator side by side and it hits them...T-T also what if reader was originally a fanartist of his books or something and he saw their fanart and he liked it so much that he hired them to be his official artist and reader just combusts lol (sidenote i'm sure poe has some great man milkers)

poor reader who was just hired to cook for a bunch of mean bougie people and is now stranded and jobless in another country T-T fortunately they still have poe. i get the feeling that poe is secretly pretty picky with his food but he's just too shy to say anything most of the time. ranpo eventually comes along and you totally get 'he asked for no pickles'd lmao. STOP WHAT IF YOU DECIDED TO TEACH POE HOW TO COOK (cus it's just easier than having to modify your recipes to accommodate him all the time) and you have like one of those cliche foodfight moments <3 and of course ranpo is your resident taste tester. (IMAGINE KARL PUPPETEERING POE LIKE IN RATATOUILLE STOP)

i can't come up with a scenario atm where poe would get hurt because he's a paranoid boi. but maybe like ranpo accidentally did it or something EITHER WAY. you are his little doctor <3 maybe you're like a training doctor for the ada under the guidance of doctor yosano? there's also a bit of a forbidden love aspect because a relationship between a doctor and a patient is unethical afaik so ooooo drama. maybe you're yosano's sister as well, idk make it even more dramatic lol (protective dadzawa moment)

currently trying to get a job in retail atm, never been there but from what i've heard it's an absolute nightmare. poor reader is probably getting harassed by karens each day and poe is her very calm and quiet respite :) he just seems to easy to assist in a store, even if he does stutter a bit. plus you can lowkey take a couple minutes to just hang out with him under the guise of 'helping a customer' akjsskkssjsjsjks. reader tells poe that she's really just there for the money, saving up for a nicer place or something, and poe's like 'i can buy a place for you /gen' because let's face it he's rather out of touch with us lower middle class folks. reader is like. well then

imagine you're a vet just vibing at work and one day some 1800s gothic emo author bursts in with his pet raccoon in shambles because he thinks said pet raccoon is seriously sick or something. nah turns out karl just ate a spider or something and threw it back up (definitely not something my dog does). and although you did no work whatsoever poe is so grateful for your help (he might cry). whenever karl gets even a little unwell from then on poe comes straight to you because he's always wracked with worry for his lil guy T-T BOOM you two are in love because of a raccoon

poe x idol reader THIS one right here gave me a lot of thinks to think. either you were friends before you became an idol or he was just a fan of your music but like you two somehow meet and it's just funny cus...old fashioned author guy and bubbly trendy idol...it would be so nice of you if you got poe a little pair of earplugs to wear at your concerts when it gets too loud but so he can still enjoy your singing <3 he gets backstage passes and all that special treatment and stuff. also is it really an idol story without some kind of arc involving dating rumours and drama? technically you're both kinda famous cus author and singer- but imagine if your fandoms clashed and were always fighting nooooooo T-T

this one where you kiss poe awake is SOOOOO so cute and i wanna write it now. you and poe could be old ass great grandparents together by this point but he'd still get shy when physical affection <333333 but like he's not complaining. what better way is there to wake up than a kiss from your loved one? he thinks it's very romantic and probably writes poems about it

i personally would have no problem with poe clinging to me (not only am i in love with him but i'm clingy and touchstarved myself) so everyone else would just have to DEAL WITH IT if they wanna talk to me but poe is also there. by the end everyone would know who he is lol (also they probably think karl is cool too)

now if reader and poe were BOTH shy...tbh two seconds in they'd just look at each other and decide to leave snksjakdhakjh if you guys don't know anyone else there then why stay? plus parties aren't really your scene anyway, maybe a cafe or library date would be better for the two of you. You'd have a lot more time and privacy for things like that <3

so like presumably the relationship between poe and assistant!reader would be mostly business, but of course a little friendly as well. so of course RANPO (or dazai lol) has to come into the picture and probably makes some maid joke and that gets poe thinkin...thoughts...about maid outfitssss~ maybe he buys one for youuuuuuu~ and maybe he thinks it looks really pretty on youuuu~ tbh this is mostly just a self indulgent pwp prompt lmaoo

this. was so long. i hope you liked this stuff nia pls feel free to add on if you have anymore ideas <3 ALSO YES I SEE YOUR CAPITALS AND I'M VERY PROUD 🌸🌸🌸🌸 I HOPE YOUR DAY IS SPLENDID AND YOUR BRAIN WORKS MORE FERVENTLY THAN EVER

#dia's discourse #thoughts: NIA #if there are any other recurring anons who wanna send me stuff #you guys should give yourselves names too! #also nia and dia are like almost the same #and i think that's just 💓💓💓

[davekat-sucks]

I like most of the pesterquest sprites and i find some of the artistic liberties charming but damn I'm petty and I'm bothered that they didn't base most of their looks from the original alterniabound sprites. I dislike Gamzees pesterquest sprite, I'm too used to his signature long chin. Why is Jane so obese? It's been described multiple times in the comic that's she's busty, gameover shows her figure. Where are her tits? The comic has brought her boobs more than once. She's had 2 titty grab scenes and Caliborn inquired about hers. Give her boobs back, also I'm not a fan of Kanayas sprite, i dislike the weird posture and I'm not into the hair (missed opportunity to have her switch her wardrobe in her volume). I've mentioned before Tavros's sprite is stiff as hell. I hate the lack of a consistent art style, im being picky as hell but it's what i think each time i see those sprites.

After Jade's sprite, everyone else's soon after was a bit inconsistent for art style. WhatPumpkin following the Steven Universe way of Rebecca Sugar hiring various artists/writers to do it and each one is "unique", so it has be shown off. Fuck a set line of rules or details they follow. Everyone's art style is unique in their own way (except for anime. Anime is bad for Western fandom). Reason for Jane being fat is because it was CALIBORN himself who insulted her that she was fat, and people picking it up thinking she genuinely has a real chubby body. He's insulting her, but they are desperate for diversity. So in an unironic fashion, all the fandom has and now accepted Caliborn, the guy who is said to be the toxic masculinity of this fandom, as being in the right. gg fanbase g fucking g Better to ignore Jane's frustration of being called fat. Because fatphobic and not many people like Jane if she were to claim she is thin. Boobs are also bad because girls being sexy is bad and they are all teenagers here, despite that they are fictional. It is a missed opportunity. I can see her clothes change depending on certain emotions (like bright colors if happy or dark when it hits to the bad end). She probably wear something nice and professional when renovating Tavros' room. Don't get me started on the contrast between Mom Lalonde and Roxy Lalonde's sprite. Why mess with her hair? Is Mom Lalonde a bad person for trying to straighten her hair now? Interpretations like this are bullshit. They really didn't give Nepeta her hat. I could have seen funny sprites where her hat would also make similar facial expressions like Nepeta or the opposite that shows her real feelings. Here is a nice art of someone giving Nepeta her hat back.

#Homestuck #Homestuck fandom #Pesterquest

[bellveela]

Too Great a Wand ch.1

When Harry Potter is the only responsible person in his family, he has to take charge of organizing vacations. For the winter break, his sister Rose and her friends wanted a place that had stunning views, good service, the ability to use magic, a pool, and a jacuzzi. Harry found a property that met all their requirements, and it was worth thousands of gold coins from their shared treasure. Although Harry preferred a modest cottage on the slopes, he had to accommodate Rose and her friends' picky taste. Harry's aunt was also choosy when it came to accommodation, albeit in a more subtle way.

Money can buy many things, including pleasures, but it rarely solves a person's problems in life. This was an absolute truth in Harry's life, if not in the lives of many people around him. The Potter and Black families' money provided him with an excellent education and allowed him to travel to places he never imagined seeing. But when Harry came of age to reach for the rings of the Potter and Black heirs, their finances were in chaos.

Harry hesitated to take the reins because he didn't want to exceed his authority, but Bellatrix, his stepAunt, insisted. Her family came from ancient money, most of which was stored in trusts and investments spread over a hundred years of purchases. A brief investigation revealed that her accountants had been cheating her since the death of the last Lord Black, and her lawyers were untrustworthy.

Then Harry hired the top-tier Tonks law firm to review the documents and search every financial and stock certificate. The costs were exorbitant, but they paid off tenfold. Harry wasn't of legal drinking age at the time, so his aunt attended most of the sessions. She didn't understand much of it, but she trusted Harry more than anyone else and signed where he instructed her to.

It was too much responsibility for a boy to bear, so Harry used Hogwarts as an escape to disappear. He didn't party or lead a wild social life, but he formed a small circle of wonderful friends and discovered that his early interest in investing and money was still alive and well. After a broken relationship, Harry applied for an internship program at the ministry and waited for a response when Rose insisted on a "mountain vacation."

The house that Harry chose for his family was only forty minutes outside the city and had its own lift that took them to the top of a kilometer-long ski trail that ended back at the house. It was a steep price, but because Harry's sister Rose was known as the girl who survived, the owner promised to cut him a deal if she and her friends published an interview and photos of the house at least once. Harry was confident they would, so they packed up.

Harry's aunt was excited to spend the next two weeks buried in her alcove with her books. For years, she had claimed she wanted to write a book on dueling, and now was the time."

"You should also bring your skis," Harry said as she loaded her bag into the car. "Looks like we'll be getting some fresh powder, and you know you'll want to hit the slopes a few times while we're up there."

"Maybe," she muttered, frowning slightly. "But they'll distract me from writing." Plus, I don't want to get in the way of your fun."

"Do you really think I'll have a good time with Rose and her friends?" Harry was careful not to raise his voice, so his sister in the room directly above the garage wouldn't hear. "They're image-obsessed, immature girls who think I'm a loser because I don't spend every weekend getting blackout drunk."

"They're just young," Harry's Aunt said, waving her hand. "I agree that your sister takes the whole show thing way too seriously, but there won't be too many chances for you two to bond. Rose will be done with Hogwarts and out of the nest in a few years... You'll be going off to your internship soon and getting married eventually."

Her voice had a pause in it that made Harry look up from where he was packing the luggage in the back of their Ministry-issued car. He noticed a spark of anger on her face before she dismissed it and smiled through thick, red lips.

"Let's just make the best of this situation, okay?"

"Okay, but bring your skis and promise me you'll spend at least one day on the slopes with me."

Her smile was genuine, and she nodded in agreement. "Deal."

"Deal on what?" Rose's distinct voice cut through the intimate moment like a hot knife through butter. Harry turned to the side and tried to ignore what she said next. "Is the loser bringing his ugly ex?" You said we could only invite friends!"

"Rose!" Harry's Aunt gave her only daughter a stern look, and Harry noticed his sister's relief at being scolded. "If you're not careful, you won't be bringing any friends to the cabin, and you should thank Harry for making it all possible." The residence boasts an infinity jacuzzi that overlooks its own private valley, according to the pictures."

"Really?" The surprising joy in Rose's voice shouldn't have made Harry feel so warm, and he tried to ignore it as he began stowing skis and boards in the roof rack.

"Really. Bring your bags down now. We're leaving in an hour. It's a long drive."

"Fleur and Daphne are on their way, but I was wondering if we could leave tonight?" Fifteen hours in a car would be hell, but Harry was hoping they could sleep most of the way –"

"We need to leave now or we'll get caught in the storm," Harry replied, ignoring Rose's irritation in the back of his throat as soon as he spoke up. "Unless you want to drive the whole way?"

Before Harry's younger sister could groan from upstairs, he got a tongue and middle finger thrown at him. Harry's Aunt chuckled quietly, making sure to hush her so Rose wouldn't hear. His sister was sensitive enough about failing her driver's test seven times and still lived in fear of having to drive with anyone she knew.

"This will be fuuun," Harry muttered, sarcastically stretching out the last word as he rolled his eyes. "Why don't we use a Portkey?" Harry asked.

"But Switzerland is so heavily secured with protective layers that even using Portkeys is difficult near their borders," Aunt replied, raising an eyebrow in a way that surprised Harry. He almost tripped over the door frame he was leaning on.

"Aunt!" Harry exclaimed, feeling his cheeks warm as he noticed a twinkle in her eye.

"I'm just saying... those are beautiful girls," she said, turning around to go back inside, and Harry saw her own cheeks flush. "And you're a charming young man with plenty to offer... It never hurts to keep your options open." Harry was ready to tell her that the obnoxious, immature friends of his sister were the last ladies he'd be thinking of in that way, but the lie wouldn't come out of his mouth, and Aunt noticed the expression on his face. "Make sure you turn off the lights before you back out of the driveway." "I'll double check at home."

When the girls arrived, Harry felt uneasy and awkward, struggling to help them with their bags and skis. He knew both of them from school, although Fleur had only briefly appeared at the Triwizard Tournament, while Daphne was in his year at Slytherin. Despite the inter-house politics or even differences in schools, they all easily connected as if drawn together like magnets, dominating the school even when they were too young for Harry to see them in that light. Now, as older teenagers, and if one was a red-blooded male, they couldn't be ignored. Harry Potter was almost as tall as Fleur. She was hyperactive, great at Quidditch, and a Slytherin prefect. His sister would have marked her as a nerd if not for her stunning blond beauty. Daphne wasn't as tall or as busty as Fleur, but she was the most beautiful woman Harry had ever seen, except for his sister. She was the perfect blend of her Veela blood, with beautiful light blond hair and charming features. Harry's sister and Daphne were the driving forces behind their growing reputation. With his sister's magical prowess and Daphne's fashion sense, Harry was sure they would have thousands of people wanting to know everything about them until the end of Hogwarts. He wouldn't tell them that. Their heads were already big enough.

Stuffing the girls in the backseat was painful, but Aunt was so absorbed in making sure she had everything that she was useless. Harry had to threaten Rose with leaving before she sat down and swore she wouldn't jump out for one more thing.

Finally, they were on the road and settled in for a long journey. Aunt offered to drive for him, but Harry had spent enough time with her to know they'd be safer with him, exhausted, than her worrying about every semi-truck passing them on the highway.

Harry achieved a fantastic time, and thanks to the magically expanded tanks in the Land Rover, they only had to stop twice before entering Switzerland, and only for the girls to use the restroom. He felt relieved when he exited the highway and took smaller roads up into the mountains, but by that time, it was already dark, and he didn't have the views he was hoping for. When they passed a small village outside the valley, the girls and Aunt quickly fell asleep.

The sign indicated that the town had only twenty-seven people, which made sense considering the shop, bar, and hair salon were the only businesses Harry saw. The ladies wanted an isolated place, and this was the closest thing they could find, apart from buying their own island, which Harry immediately dismissed as a ridiculous expense.

As he drove up the only highway in the valley, Harry was uneasy. He wasn't worried about the steep slopes on either side or being cut off from everything but satellites. The fact was that he noticed a bus full of guys leaving the pub, and even though Rose and her friends were sleeping soundly, he knew that one random glance at the backseat could lead to problems.

When no headlights appeared in the rearview mirror, Harry breathed a sigh of relief and easily ascended the single-lane road. The entire property was brand new, and he liked the freshly paved road, despite the proximity to steep mountains on both sides. It was difficult to maneuver in the dark, and he was sweating by the time they reached the driveway. "Are we finally here?" Rose asked as she sat up and rubbed her eyes.

"He's here," Harry replied as he parked the car next to the house.

They couldn't see much in the dark, so Rose and Fleur pulled out their wands and cast a quiet Lumos, and they began searching for the front door. As Harry pushed open the back door and started taking out the stack of luggage and bags that the girls packed, his Aunt was still untangling herself from cables and blankets she wrapped herself in during the long journey.

"Look, it's snowing!" one of them exclaimed.

Harry lifted his head and hunched over to look at the front window, where his Aunt pointed to a large droplet slowly dissolving. The excitement was short-lived, as another large flake landed on his neck, and the cool drop trickled down his back.

"Rose and the girls are turning on the lights. I'll send them to help you with the luggage."

"Take this with you," Harry urged, taking the bag and the tote from her.

Aunt stopped next to him and pulled on her woolen hat, smiling at him. It was hard not to recognize in her what many men had seen. She was an innocent, slender beauty, with beautiful cherubic cheeks, huge light blue eyes, and pure white skin framed by thick blue-black hair. She could pass for Rose's older sister, except that she had recently gained weight, which went straight to her hips and breasts.

"I just wanted to say..." she said, looking at him. Even when she froze, the white flakes falling on her long lashes made Harry's heart melt. "I'm glad we escaped from all of this for a few weeks. I'm sorry for the inconvenience and I promise to make it up to you."

"It's okay. I'm glad we escaped too."

"You miss her, don't you?" she said, her face sad as she placed her hand on his chest. The snow was falling heavily and Harry wasn't used to it, but it only served to emphasize how warm she felt against him.

"Who, Hermione?"

It had been a month since the breakup and, to be honest, Harry hadn't thought much about her since that terrible weekend. Aunt misunderstood his expression as a guilty conscience about how easily he left.

"As I said... this is a small place for you kids," she added, squeezing him tighter with each syllable. "Maybe you'll meet someone who can help you cope with it."

Harry Potter wasn't surprised that Aunt would say something like that. She was always in embarrassing situations or putting her foot in her mouth. What his body did in reaction surprised him. Maybe it was the long car journey and the inability to relieve himself for longer than a day, or maybe it was the feeling of her large breasts pressing against his torso. In any case, her eyes opened almost simultaneously with his attempt to pull away, and for a few seconds, he thought she was following him with her hips, although perhaps his quick retreat threw her off balance.

Aunt grabbed him by the arm and hips as she fell into him, saving herself from the cold, wet concrete. Her face pressed into his jeans for a terrible minute, and he felt a hot shame wash over him as the length of her cheek rubbed against the thickness of his leg. Afraid of her reaction, he stiffened, but she caught herself and stood up on shaky legs. "Are you okay?" Harry slowly shook off his embarrassment as Fleur's words pierced his embarrassment and helped Aunt to her feet. "Or am I interrupting something?"

"She just slipped," he said, turning to Aunt to offer her comfort.

He noticed the strangest reaction on her face. Instead of humiliation or shame, her expression was filled with pure joy. She only regained her composure after he stood there staring at her for a while. She nodded in agreement, quickly blinking, and added weakly: "I must have stepped on some black ice... I was in shock when I saw myself on it... So I think I'll go to sleep now. It was a long and exhausting journey. Harry, don't stay out in the cold too long, or you'll catch a cold."

Aunt caressed his cheeks before moving over to Fleur and Rose, who hugged their jackets as she moved to the back of the car.

"What's her deal?" Rose asked. "What is she doing, staring at me?"

"Forget about her," Harry muttered as he slung Rose's bag over his shoulder. "We need to move quickly before everything gets soaked."

Rose and Fleur looked up at the deepening snow and without hesitation began to help. Fleur's heavy lifting surprised Harry as she carried almost as much as he did. Meanwhile, Rose and Daphne were solely focused on their luggage.

Harry's aunt assisted with the grocery list as she was the family cook and maintained a flawless kitchen. When Harry and Fleur emptied the chilled coolers and boxes into the fridge and pantry, he couldn't help but wonder how Rose and Fleur became friends.

He met Fleur on the first day of the Triwizard Tournament. She was the only one who was nice to him and didn't judge him for being a Veela, Fleur shared with Harry, shrugging and chuckling self-deprecatingly. "When you're dealing with aggressive females like me, you appreciate girls who make an effort. Rose has always been like that. She doesn't show it, but she's the first to help disabled children or volunteer for an ungrateful task."

"Why are you defending her?" Harry asked, pleased with Fleur's kind words. "You don't even have to sell her to me."

"I don't know," Fleur replied, her cheeks slightly flushed. "I never had a brother, but I have a younger sister, and I watch you two fight... Maybe you wouldn't talk down to her if you didn't think she was an airhead materialistic. And she wouldn't lash out at you and say anything hurtful."

"I don't talk down to Rose," Harry argued, but Fleur's direct gaze stopped him in his tracks. He recognized that Fleur possessed insight that he couldn't refute. It was hard for him to admit it, but he sometimes teased Rose.

"How do I fix this?" Harry asked, taking a deep breath.

Fleur surprised him with her suggestion. She gestured upward to where Rose and Daphne were unloading, a satisfied smile on her face. "You may have chosen this location, but Rose had floor plans emailed to her from the architect," Fleur said, and Harry looked at her in surprise. "She knows more about this house than the owners do. Let her give you a tour and be the expert for a change."

"Good," Harry shrugged. "Is that all there is to it? It seems rather simple."

"Girls are quite simple," Fleur said to Harry. "Make us feel noticed and beautiful, and you'll become the next Adonis."

Harry laughed. "Is that all there is to it? If so, you should tell that to some of the guys I know who've been caught in the friend zone."

"Well," murmured Fleur, her blush deeper than usual. "If Rose and Daphne are to be believed, they only get friend-zoned when they're... you know." She made a small gesture with her fingers and thumb, and Harry laughed, shaking his head as his chuckles abruptly faded.

"Unfortunately, that's not always the case. When faced with rejection, girls are more prone to feeling scared and coming up with stories to mask their humiliation. And male teasing is much worse -"

"Come see how the snow is piling up!" Rose burst into the kitchen, taking Harry and Fleur by the hands and pulling them onto the tiny staircase. "This place is a maze. Do you see that square window, Harry? It's called merciless."

"Really?" "That's cool," Harry replied, truly delighted that Rose recognized it right away. As they squeezed through the staircase, Fleur winked and smiled over her shoulder at Rose.

Since arriving, Harry hadn't seen much of the mansion. He'd been in the kitchen unpacking their food for the next few weeks, aside from the empty entrance with a well-made wooden bench. Rose was right that the area was a maze, especially in the dark.

The tiny staircase led to a small corridor filled with shelves of books. The shelves rose high above various dry and canned goods, and Harry was eager to stay and see what the owners had. His little sister, however, was persistent, and Fleur's sharp eyes watched, so he followed them without hesitation.

They found themselves on a large balcony that wrapped around the exterior of the house. Someone had turned on the outdoor lights, illuminating the area. The grounds were already covered in a thick layer of heavy snow, with more falling by the bucketful.

Daphne emerged from another set of doors to join Rose and Fleur in their dance under the falling snow. When she smiled at Harry, the older girl's blonde hair collected a few large snowflakes, white flakes gleaming in the spotlight.

"Give it a rest, Harry, you can't always be so serious!" Isn't this amazing? On our first night, no less!"

"It's amazing," Harry replied, allowing the petite blonde to lure him from under the eaves and into the dance circle. He wasn't much of a dancer and quickly became restless among the lively crowd. They were doing some sort of footwork, a dance move with a kick they'd learned from some Mongolian entertainment. He tried to follow them, but his stumbling feet made the women giggle. "Don't you care about muggles?" Fleur asked. "How come you haven't learned this yet?"

Harry shook his head, but Rose spoke for him before he could open his mouth. "Harry's not on social media." He's afraid it could come back to bite him if he ever runs for office or anything."

"Politicians are the worst," Daphne replied, tilting her head back and sticking out her tongue. "Harry, you're not addicted to attention and praise. What motivates you to run?"

Harry pondered the small, dark-haired angel. Rose always struck him as an airhead more interested in shoes and clothes than current affairs based on their meetings and Rose's stories, but that was a sharper observation than he expected.

"Attention would be the worst part," he said. "But it comes with power, perhaps the most any one person can gather, and that's something I'm very interested in."

He shrugged and pulled his coat tighter. It was an awkward discovery, but it was the reality he'd learned to accept over the past few years. His life had been turbulent since childhood, and he was at the mercy of Dumbledore. Now he craved power, which is why at such a young age, he took over his family's finances and planned to earn the title of master of business. Like politics, the business world was just another type of control.

Snow was piling up on the deck, forming drifts where the girls' feet kicked it up. They weren't dancing anymore, and Harry turned to see all three of them staring at him with different expressions. Fleur was amused, but when she looked at his sister and saw her pensive expression, her joy vanished.

Daphne's eyes blinked with subdued emotion. Like her buddy, Harry assumed it was all in good fun, but the way her little white teeth sank into her lower lip made his heart race, and he began to look at her more closely. When she sensed his gaze, the little girl's eyebrows lifted, and her small lips twisted into a slight grimace.

"Let's go back in before we freeze to death... Daphne?"

"I'm coming!" The little blonde turned to leave, giving him a flirtatious wave before breaking away. "Rose, your brother is fascinating."

"Yeah, if he wasn't such a recluse, he'd be the most popular-"

The door closed behind them, cutting off Rose's last words. Harry's feet carried him to the door, but he couldn't hear anything inside and had no idea where the slit in the modern house led. He turned and went back to the kitchen, where he found his Aunt preparing dinner.

As Harry entered the room, his Aunt greeted him with a large, slightly loose smile. She swung her apron and pointed to the radio on the counter.

"There you go. Have you watched the news lately? 'The storm has been upgraded to a blizzard, and everyone is advised to secure their windows and stay indoors,' she said. "What the fuck is going on?" Harry leaned in to listen as the meteorologist spoke.

"As you can see, the pressure has dropped across the high plains, slowing the storm and causing it to become a blizzard..."

"This is serious," Harry observed, but his aunt waved her hand and went back to the stove where she was browning something that smelled like Italian sausage.

"This is a brand new home. I'm sure they designed it to withstand the elements around here. Relax, Harry, and have some wine," she added, gesturing towards an open bottle with an almost empty glass next to it.

Harry couldn't help but assume his aunt's calm was due to the wine. She would be bouncing off the walls if the blizzard was weighing on them. The wine was taking the edge off for her, for which he silently thanked God.

"And I'm going to close them," Harry said, raising the latch on the wooden shutters above the sink.

"I'll help you with that," his aunt said, leaning over him to remove the second latch, causing him to catch her in his arms. 

"Whoopsie! Sorry about that..."

"Auntie?" Harry's voice was slightly alarmed and his body reacted quickly. How could it not, with her apron pulled to one side, cutting across one large breast and highlighting every feature against the smooth material of her dress?

She looked at him through long lashes, making no effort to stand up as her body pressed against his. He couldn't take his eyes off her firm, rounded form that slid along the deep shadow between her cleavage. Then her eyes followed his, and then sank further, as if staring between their mashed bodies at his growing manhood, which terrified him.

"Maybe you should check the rest of the house," she said, pushing away from him. But she never looked him in the eyes again, as she returned to the sizzling sausage. "I put your things in the room on the third floor at the top of the stairs. My room is right next to yours... The girls have the second floor, and we hope they won't disturb us all night."

"I'll check the house," Harry replied, cutting her off. He couldn't resist the allure of her huge breasts and tight, round ass, so he cast her a lustful glance. Quietly scolding himself for his weakness, he knew he could never tell her about his humiliating thoughts.

He walked around the massive mansion, closing shutters on the first floor and observing how the windows were made of thick thermal glass reinforced with runes, which emitted a delicate power that kept the cold out of the rooms. A picture by the stairs leading up instructed him to leave his shoes downstairs. He silently made his way up the stairs and noticed light coming from behind the door of one of the bedrooms.

He eavesdropped on the conversation between his sisters and their friends as he approached to knock. They were talking about someone named Hermione, and Harry couldn't resist listening in.

"Why do you always bring up Hermione? I told you, I have no idea. She came from a wealthy Mogul family, and yet she was quiet and strange enough. "I thought he could do better," commented one of his sisters.

"That's something people usually say. Do you remember when Ginny had a crush on him in the early years?" the second one observed.

"Is that why?" said Fleur, her voice fainter than the others but still audible.

"Forget about Harry. Did you expect us to get serious this week? We're on the brink of a breakthrough, but we need to focus on the right material, or we'll get lost in the algorithm." "Daph, did you bring your cosplay stuff?" asked one of the friends.

"Of course, of course!" "I even brought all the swords and guns that the boys from the history club made for me," added Daphne, another friend.

"Great, do you guys have your costumes?" Rose asked.

"I wasn't sure about that with the student..." "Don't you think the skirts and blouses are too short, Rose?" Fleur asked.

"I understand if you're uneasy. But look at yourself, Fleur... "You have the sexiest body I've ever seen, and if you felt as beautiful as you look, you'd have enough supporters to last a lifetime," Rose reassured Fleur.

What he heard was incredible to Harry. His sisters and friends were too consumed with their own social media fame to care about anything else. He groaned and left, thinking they would eventually come to their senses.

Fleur's rough voice spoke to Harry: "You're sweet. But I'm too tall, too mature, and these are too oddly proportioned for me."

Rose objected, but Harry strained to hear her as the door cracked under his weight. "Who's there?!" Rose yelled in fear.

"It's me," said Harry, trying to calm his younger sister. "The storm is turning into a blizzard, and we need to close all the windows."

"Okay, stop bothering us and leave us alone!" Rose exploded with anger. Harry was surprised by her anger, but he remembered Fleur's earlier comments and took a deep breath. "Okay, goodnight."

"You too," Fleur replied, shocked. Harry smiled to himself, pleased that he surprised her.

"I'll go get the shutters from our room." "I saw them when I unpacked," Harry explained before leaving.

"Daph, wait!" Fleur's voice stopped him. Harry tilted his head and caught a glimpse of the golden-lit space inside. Daphne was rushing out of the room, followed by Rose, who stood behind her companion. Fleur caught Harry's eye as she stood naked in front of a large mirror on the wall. Her hands tried to cover herself, but they couldn't hide her breasts and genitals.

"Stop staring, you pervert," Rose said, pulling Harry out of his trance. Daphne's and his sister's laughter followed him as he crouched up the stairs to the third level.

The sound of their laughter echoed in Harry's mind as he closed up the rest of the house. He slipped into bed, regretting that he booked this vacation in the first place. As visions of Fleur's naked body filled his head, he chose them over more sinister ones. When he finally fell asleep, he heard the creak of his aunt's mattress as she climbed into bed, and the storm outside roared, but the house held up easily. Wrapped in warm flannel sheets, Harry slept like a log. The sound of their laughter echoed in Harry's mind as he closed up the rest of the house. He slipped into bed, regretting that he booked this vacation in the first place. As visions of Fleur's naked body filled his head, he chose them over more sinister ones. When he finally fell asleep, he heard the creak of his aunt's mattress as she climbed into bed, and the storm outside roared, but the house held up easily. Wrapped in warm flannel sheets, Harry slept like a log. https://www.patreon.com/posts/too-great-wand-1-82771193

[thunderheadfred]

❄️Todoroki HC's🔥

Aged-up pro hero Shouto. NSFW under the cut. Minors do not interact.

- - -

General

Might as well be tied with Bakugou for the #1 pro hero spot; they seem to pass the crown back and forth every other year. Everyone knows about their intense frenemies uber-rivalry. Well. Everyone but Shouto.

He's asked to speak at a lot of charity events. If he has time to prepare (and hire a speech writer) he is capable of stirring crowds to standing ovations. But if caught unawares... he gets cornered into hilarious on-the-spot interviews. He's been memed. Mercilessly.

He's an OP character, but unfortunately he rolled -500 in fashion sense. Eventually he wises up and hires a stylist. When he finally cuts his hair a slightly different and even more flattering way, it's a national event. People faint in the street.

Does god-awful sleight-of-hand magic tricks when he meets young fans, even though nobody asked him to. The second-hand embarrassment is palpable. But he keeps doing it. God, why does he keep doing it?

Has hovering arm syndrome in every fan photo.

Super into pop music. Not a fan of any particular group or artist, couldn't tell you the name of a single song. But every time he turns up the volume on the radio it's like... really? THIS? Probably pumps that shit through his hero agency to keep up morale. Has no idea what you mean when you tell him his music taste doesn't match his personality.

Similarly, he enjoys brainless romantic comedies and old silent movies. Doesn't laugh at jokes but loses it over physical comedy. Thinks Buster Keaton and Harold Lloyd are the funniest people who ever walked the earth.

He's long and limber. Runs practically a hundred miles every day just to "relax." Doesn't even get sweaty doing it. A filthy yoga addict. He'll probably live to be 200 years old.

He can regulate his body temperature for quirk use but in everyday life he's always half a degree outside the Goldilocks zone. It drives him quietly insane; he has an epic love-hate relationship with his thermostat.

Has a therapy animal pet. Doesn't matter if it's a dog or a cat or a bird or an iguana or a teeny tiny rodent. It's the best-behaved animal in the country and speaks more languages than you. It has its own room and an instagram account with millions of followers.

Lives in a traditional Japanese estate that doubles as a national treasure. Probably has government-appointed snipers at the gate, and he's just like, "don't worry about it." You are afraid to touch anything. Fuck, don't even look at anything, just to be safe.

Has an outstanding personal chef who only gets to cook five things unless (thank fuck!!) company comes over. Impossibly picky eater. He rotates between a few "safe" foods and suspiciously side-eyes everything else. If you cook something unfamiliar for him it will be the most awkward meal of your life, because he'd never tell you he doesn't like it. But oh lord, just look at his face.

This clashes directly with his love of traveling. Frequently uses his hero earnings to visit exotic foreign locales over long weekends... but rarely tries the food.

- - -

Dating

A grey-ace demisexual disaster. You could count the number of people he's been attracted to on one hand. He falls madly in love every time and always gets his heart smashed to pieces when his crush can't magically intuit the meaning of his frigid longing glances and generically courteous romantic gestures.

Which is stupid, because he gets propositioned constantly. He can't walk out the door without being flirted with. People keep slipping him their phone numbers and he always directs them to his agency like a moron. It's a good thing he will never understand how attractive he is because that's the only thing keeping him from total world domination.

Conventional attractiveness does not compute. Shouto doesn't have a type, doesn't care that he's an eleven whilst you are merely mortal. He will fall for your personality above all else.

Probably falls head over heels because your schedules overlap in a completely ordinary way and he witnesses you doing something endearing or brave or most likely: utterly mundane.

Pick a favorite, because you're his favorite coworker, or his favorite barista, or his favorite random bystander in line at the grocery store. You made him smile once; then he spent the next three months daydreaming about your future together before you accidentally stomped on his foot, initiating your first real conversation.

He's big on healthy communication. HUGE. He goes to therapy and it shows. Will talk through literally everything to the point of delirium. Sometimes his dedication to resolving every issue right away can get overwhelming; sometimes you just need some frickin time alone. But it pays off, because the two of you have practically never have a "real fight." There's just no way for bad vibes to fester.

STILL, his family wasn't exactly... erm... verbally or emotionally supportive, shall we say. For that reason, he might not give you all the compliments you deserve, because it simply doesn't occur to him to do so. He assumes you know how he feels. If you're self-conscious or insecure in the relationship, it might take him a while to notice. But when he figures it out (or even better, when you tell him directly) he will make it up to you with enthusiasm.

Will take you on lavish dates. Spoils you rotten without actually intending to. He's clueless about money. If you wanted a sugar daddy, you just hit the fucking jackpot. But if the word valet makes you uncomfortable, perhaps suggest some romantic picnics instead. He can still go all out with the food and five-star location without making you see cartoon dollar signs.

Chronic Insomniac. Stays up too late watching YouTube every night. His viewing history is an incomprehensible blur of k-pop music videos, serial killer icebergs, and super girly crafty ASMR channels. When he's watching a video, he is unreachable. Please call back later and try again.

He's disgustingly cute when he sleeps. Doesn't snore, but drools. Sometimes the drool freezes and leaves frost trails on his face in the morning. Still sleeps with the giant stuffed cat pillow that his mother gave him when he was like, zero. He'll inadvertently suffocate you with it, and you will welcome death with open arms because awwwwww!!!!!

The first time he tells you he loves you will be after your traditional Japanese shinto wedding. You won't hear it again until you start a family. Honestly, it's a good thing he doesn't say it often and is always holding you when it happens. It's a knee-buckler.

- - -

Icy-Hot

I don't even need to say it. Shouto is as old-fashioned as they come. You will never open another door or pull out another chair for yourself as long as you live. He will ask before he holds your hand. He will ask before he kisses you. He will stop and check in if you so much as breathe funny during sex.

If you don't orgasm at exactly the same time while staring into one another's eyes, he'll consider himself a failed lover. God forbid you want him to pound you into the futon... cause you are going to have to present that scenario to him in writing first.

Physical intimacy rarely leads to sex. He loves cuddling, craves physical affection. He'll sprawl all over you and turn into goo while you hold him close. He's an amazing, astounding, phenomenally good kisser. And that's... nice and all... but sometimes you have to grab his face and say, "Shouto, I'm horny," before he's like so that's why you're currently dry-humping me?

Even if he isn't technically a virgin the first time (or the millionth time) you sleep together, you won't know the difference. He's a blushing violet. Every. Fucking. Time. This doesn't mean he's a bad lay, oh no. But there's always ten minutes of confused bumbling before he hits his stride and remembers oh yeah, I DO know how to fuck good.

Absolutely silent during sex. Focused. Intense. Sometimes you have to push him a little to make any kind of noise at all, just so you know you're pleasing him (oh don't worry, you are).

His cock is Just Right. Not to big or too small. Perfectly proportioned and symmetrical. Somehow pretty. Like a fucking factory prototype. It truly is not fair.

Gets handsy and restless at night, even if you both have work the next day. Seems to crave sex at three in the morning. You've given him more than one exhausted handjob.

Gets offended if you don't cum. Will go down on you for hours. Of course he uses his quirk to tease you. He doesn't typically use it during actual intercourse, but he's all about foreplay, and he'll use every tool in his arsenal.

His sex drive is completely fucking unpredictable. Sometimes he's all over you, other times he's an icy slab. His line of work leaves him busy and stressed on a near-constant basis, so you can't entirely blame his personality for this one. Just give him some time and help him take care of his basic needs. He'll come back around soon enough.

#todoroki shouto #todoroki x you #todoroki x reader #todoroki x y/n #gender neutral reader #todoroki headcanons #bnha headcanons #mha headcanons #smut #fred writes #bnha #mha

[kdramaxoxo]

hiii~ ! I've recently started watching kdramas again and I don't know which ones are worth watching. could u recommend some good ones to me if possible?? thank youuu ^^ (btw love your blog 💌)

Welcome back to K-dramas anon!

Also, thank you so much for the blog love - it means a lot to me :)

I'm not sure when you stopped watching k-dramas, or what genres you like, so I'll just recommend way too many and you can pick what sounds good?

Great K-Dramas in a Variety of Genres:

Fight for My Way (slice of life/romcom): I love this drama! Always a fave for me, this drama is funny and heartwarming! The leading lady is a strong female which I LOVE, and Park Seo Joon plays her really cute down to earth best friend. It’s a childhood friends to lovers trope with a group of regular people (no rich heirs in this show!) and has a happy ending and a lot of cute flirting, cuddling and kissing. Argh I love these two!

Terius Behind Me (Action/Adventure): FBI agent goes under disguise as a babysitter! While there are some intense parts of this drama because it’s a crime thriller, the characters are super funny and all work perfectly together to create a comedic element. Honestly this show was almost perfect for me, and I’m very picky.

Shopping King Louie (romcom): Ridiculously fun and lighthearted romp following a spoiled and useless chaebol with amnesia who is being taken care of by a country bumpkin in the city. Very low stakes, super adorable couple, and as many tropes as you can fit in your bag, this one is one of my favorites to recommend.

Flower of Evil (psychological thriller): A psychological thriller centered around a jewelry maker who is running from his past, and his cop wife (power couple alert!)  who doesn’t know his original identity. The chemistry of the couple is amazing and all of the characters are nuanced and interesting. I was on the edge of my seat, AND sobbing! Also, I finally understand Lee Jun Ki stans, he was SO GOOD in this!

Extraordinary You/ A Day Found By Chance (fantasy/romance): This magical k-drama has my heart. It plays with all of the predictable tropes and then just goes crazy! While not perfect towards the end, I give this show bonus points for being super creative AND inspiring me to read a LOT of fan fic. I think about this drama more than any other.

Extracurricular (thriller): An unusual, fast paced thriller about an introverted high school boy mixed up in a prostitution ring. His crush gets involved and well, I don’t want to say what happens but it’s a wild and crazy ride. There really is not another k-drama like it. I like to refer to it as the least k-drama-y kdrama I’ve ever seen.

Where Your Eyes Linger (BL web drama romance): A super cute BL web drama about a boy who is hired to be his friend’s body guard. There is a lot of tension and pining, and I fell in love with the stories pacing and the chemistry between the two leads.

Just Between Lovers (romance/melo): Slice of Life romance between poor trauma babies just trying to live! The OTP is one of my favorite couples EVER and even as the years go on, very few couples have matched their love in my opinion. There’s a lot of comfort/healing themes with for me is just *chef’s kiss.* Lee Junho became my bias wrecker because of that drama.

Have a Nice Dessert (another cute web drama): If you’re looking for low angst and a super soft boy, this is your drama!! It’s a web drama (youtube) about a girl who loves photographing desserts and the boy who likes her.  Like all web dramas, it’s short, and there’s really no time for angst and breakups :)

The Best Hit / Hit The Top (romcom): A famous 90′s boyband dude travels into the future and meets up with his family and friends in this really cute drama featuring Yoon Shi Yoon. I LOVE Yoon Shi Yoon in pretty much everything but this role was made for him - he is hilarious. It’s a slice of life but features the k-pop music industry so the setting is unique.

The Smile Has Left Your Eyes (psychological thriller): This drama has a lot of psychological thriller-y aspects but the style of filming is really interesting and the leads could not be more angsty (especially the guy). It takes them a while to get together and while not entirely pleasant, this show is one of my faves.

Into The Ring (workplace/romcom): The perfect slice-of-life rom com! Goo Se Ra has trouble holding down a job due to her passionate personality so after she loses her latest job working for the ML, she decides to run for a small government office position because it pays a salary. Literally she does it for the money which is just *chef’s kiss.* The show is about her dealing with local politics and it’s SO FUNNY and smart and the OTP is the best! 

Hospital Playlist (workplace/friendship): This slice-of-life drama featuring five college friends who all work at the same hospital came to my mind first. Chae Song-Hwa is one of the most interesting characters I’ve ever seen in a drama and I love the depth and care the drama gives to every single person featured. There is some romance but it’s the hospital and friendship dynamics that make this show a must see.

Psycho But It’s Okay (melo/romance): A gorgeous k-drama using fairytale narrations as a backdrop, features two brothers who lost their mother, and a beautiful & famous author who grew up in a traumatic and abusive household. Everyone is very closed off and holding onto intense pain, but the three come together to help one another move on and find happiness. Gorgeous angsty and melodramatic romance. Best friendship ever, and literally the prettiest lady I have ever seen.

Age of Youth 1 (slice of life): Age of Youth/ Hello My Twenties is one of the best k-dramas that centers around strong female friendships. A group of wildly different girls find themselves rooming together in an apartment. Lots of romance too, but the girl’s lives and friendships are the primary focus.

Her Private Life (romcom): Park Min Young really knows how to pick dramas. I loved this one about a museum curator who is secretly a fangirl obsessed with an idol. It’s fun and fluffy but does have a very mild childhood trauma thing with his mother but I mean, 99% of dramas like this do? If you like this one, Touch Your Heart and Why Secretary Kim are by the same person and have similar vibes.

Thirty But Seventeen (romance/found family): Precious puppies with past trauma! Don’t be turned off by the shows description as it turned out to be one of the best surprises of 2018 for me. The leads are lovely and everyone relies and supports one another - it’s so sweet.

Melo Is My Nature (slice of life): This drama is by far my favorite slice-of-life drama of 2019. Found family, strong and complex characters, I laughed, I cried. Plus a gay character that’s an actual character, with the gay as a casual side note (classy k-drama!!) It was just a perfect show for me. There’s romance, but all of the stories are super interesting.

#kdrama #kdrama recommendations #masterlist #i love a list #i hope i didnt skip any #but then again i have warned you about my brain already once today #lol #ask #answer #flower of evil #hospital playlist

[ombreblossom]

Ooh I'm curious about the TMA Tesco meet cry and TMA queen wips!

Oh! Yay! I haven’t had cause to think about either of these in a while, so thank you for the ask!

TMA Tesco Meet Cry

So, this WIP sprang from an experience I had several months ago shopping for groceries. I’d had a terrible day and been in an anxiety spiral for most of it to boot, but I desperately needed to do some grocery shopping. My cashier took one look at me and was like, “You’ve had a day, haven’t you?” I’d been crying not long before this, so that tracked. She stopped ringing me out and grabbed a bouquet of flowers for me. Didn’t charge me for them or anything, and even added an extra sunflower that wasn’t in the bouquet, saying, “I even added a sunflower in there for you.” I was floored, couldn’t really talk, barely said “thank you,” and was on my way. The whole thing was really touching, and I kept the flowers long after they withered and died.

I don’t have anything written for this yet, but I’m imagining this with either Jon and Martin or Georgie and Melanie, though I did the bulk of my outlining for the boys. It’d be a short fic - one or two scenes - and I imagine Martin has just had a hell of a week. He’s in his early 20s, maybe, either right before he’s hired at the Institute or shortly thereafter. He’s struggling to make ends meet for himself and his mother, who’s still living with him and requiring a nurse to visit everyday to help him take care of her. She’s doing her thing of being absolutely awful to him for reasons that are (to us) out of his control but to him just feel like failures. He’s missed a bill payment, maybe, and he had to cancel plans to meet up with a friend or go on a date because he needed to pick up work somewhere, and he’s sleep deprived, etc. etc.

Jon’s working at Tesco (or some other UK supermarket - I’m not picky) because he’s fresh out of uni and looking for work in his field and also not yet been picked up by the Institute. He’s not too far out of his relationship with Georgie, and he’s been feeling a bit maudlin about that. He sees Martin approaching his counter and it activates something in him. (Or maybe he notices Martin beforehand and approaches him in a more deserted part of the store. I do tend to imagine Jon as being hyper-empathic as part of his neurodivergence, and that could be why he picks up on Martin immediately.) And Jon’s like, “I don’t know what’s going on in your life, and you don’t have to tell me, but please accept these flowers. I put the sunflower in there just for you.” Martin just can’t handle it and breaks down. It just so happens to be the end of Jon’s shift, and Jon takes him back to his flat and makes him food, throws a blanket over him, and talks with him. And they hit it off, and the rest is history.

Haven’t decided if this is a no-fears AU or canon divergence, but I don’t think picking or the other will change the story much.

And I thought about the reverse, but I usually write Martin doing the comforting, and so I thought it was time to switch it around! Haha.

TMA Queen

“Queen” referring to the band led by Freddie Mercury. This one started as a short, fun karaoke story and then led to me wondering: who of JMart would be a Queen fan? I ultimately decided on both of them but for different reasons. It morphed from a fun (probably S1) thing and turned into fun (still probably S1) thing with f e e l i n g s.

I don’t have anything explicitly written for this one, either, but I imagine it going like this: when Martin was young and his family was still together, I think they did what my family did, which was put a vinyl of Queen’s Night at the Opera on or maybe the Greatest Hits album and sing and dance the night away. (Me? Projecting? No, absolutely not.) When Martin’s father left,that stopped immediately. His mother was already weakening, and her resentment even then had started coloring her actions.

Later in life, Martin found out that Freddie was queer and did some digging into his history and into Queen as well. I imagine, as a result, Martin has a smattering of favorite songs across Queen’s discography, and I think he especially likes “Love of My Life” - at least on days when he’s feeling particularly wistful and romantic. Martin also maybe finds out that Brian May is an astrophysicist, and he dreams about living a different life - not necessarily Brian’s life or Freddie’s life, but a different one. He dreams away while he works and works and crashes up against the overwhelming force of his mother’s disdain for him, and the dreaming and hoping sustains him for a time.

Jon, on the other hand, doesn’t discover Queen until uni. He grows up (I haven’t decided) either not listening to a lot of music or only listening to the music his grandmother listens to. She has a handful of vinyls of oldies music she became familiar with shortly after emigrating from India with her young son, and she’d play them from time to time. As technology advanced, I think she’d also try to find recordings of Indian classical music, and Jon might listen to them with her.

But he finds Queen in uni and mostly listens to the hits because they’re what’s popular - when he does listen to music at all. He honestly strikes me as someone that doesn’t listen to much music except when he’s trying to focus on something and he needs just a tiny bit of distraction for his mind to not get lost in the sauce. He doesn’t seek out any more of their music but listens to, oh, I don’t know, “Death on Two Legs” on repeat while completing various uni assignments because he’s dramatic, and we love him for it. I can see him liking “Love of My Life,” too, honestly, romantic that he can be.

So it’s S1, and the team goes out for a night of karaoke as a team/friendship-building thing. I haven’t really gotten further than this in thinking about what happens, but Jon and Martin end up bonding over Queen, and it’s an opportunity to talk about themselves; their connections to queerness, to music, to family; and all sorts of things. Sasha and Tim can join too, maybe, if I think of backstories for them haha.

I also, in my heart of hearts, want to write a scene where Jon and Martin either slow dance to or sing a duet of “Love of my Life.” That can be the epilogue~

And have a gander at my other WIPs! I’d love to talk about them if any interest you~  

#tma #the magnus archives #jonatham sims #martin blackwood #jonmartin #ombre answers #ombre writes #jmart #twisted-pride #these are a lot of projection #but i think they work~ #oh also #if you look into 'death on two legs' and you haven't heard it before #cw for brief mention of suicide #tma wip game

[hyperfresh]

So, that happened. Here are my thoughts on the latest Splatoon 3 trailer.

Of course, spoilers ahead if you haven't watched the trailer. Go watch it first* before you hit "read more"!

*if you care about it: this is the Nintendo of America video

I'll be honest, my impressions on the trailer are mixed. The gameplay looks nice and I'm super hype for it! The story mode of course has me intrigued (just like how the previous story modes have). The new mechanics and weapons look cool as well! Everything revealed before this trailer was awesome.

This trailer however... worries me, and to explain why we have to look at the UI for Splatoon 1, 2 and the upcoming 3.

Etce - Splatoon 1 Meme Omnibus : Vol. I

Here's the UI for Splatoon 1 (nostalgia vibes anyone?) - notice the squid icons at the top don't have the weapons (just displays who's dead) and the timer is at the left instead of the centre. In terms of font, the timer and p counter is in bold Splatoon font while the "splatted" text is regular non-themed font.

Vicvillon - Splatoon 2 but I Start Over in 2022

Now, the UI for Splatoon 2. Notice how different it looks compared to Splatoon 1: the timer was moved to the centre and the icons on top now show weapons. On the right is a refreshed special meter and p counter, while the "cheers" on the bottom left got a refresh. This is the Splatoon UI that most people are familiar with - at the time of release, it felt fresh and new - and well-distanced from the previous release.

Nintendo: Splatoon 3 - Release Date Revealed - Nintendo Switch

And this is what worries me. Look at the UI for Splatoon 3. Apart from minor shape changes and tweaks, the UI is practically the same. There's almost nothing UI-wise that makes this different from Splatoon 2 (definitely different from Splatoon 1, but not the previous release!) Look at Pufuu's concept for example: I'd call this enough to distance Splatoon 3 from Splatoon 2.

Pufuu - The HORRIBLE addition to Splatoon 3

(Actually, why hasn't Pufuu been hired by Nintendo yet? This is SO much better, given with a bit more tweaking for it to be unique but still not be a pain in the eyes. This comparison probably between what was revealed and Pufuu's concepts is quite telling though...)

My worries could be completely unjustified - and you know what, that's fine. It could just be me being picky, but it is at least food for thought.

And for those who agree with me, it does make me worried that Nintendo got too comfy. They're not willing to refresh the game's looks if it still works out. It makes me worried that there might be recycled Splatoon 2 UI (and/or content), which makes Splatoon 3 less able to stand on its own two feet.

Especially when both Splatoon 2 and Splatoon 3 are on the same console, I do think that there needs to be more done to separate the two in terms of UI and make it look like the newer, fresher game instead of what just looks like Splatoon 2 on steroids.

I do at least respect the idea that it is April and things shown in this trailer are due to change, but September is only five months away... and this has me really worried that Splatoon 3 won't feel fresh enough for returning players, especially those returning from Splatoon 2.

This was written at midnight my time. If you read through all of this, I love you. /p

#Splatoon 3 #hyla's blog of rambles #very long ramble #trailer analysis

[castielific]

Title: Fancy and the tramp

Story status: Complete, 8 chapters

Rating: Explicit

Tags: Dean/Castiel, Alternate Universe, Fake boyfriends, pretend relationship, homeless!Dean, rich!Cas, family, angst with a happy ending, temporary breakup, getting back together, coming out, past!homophobia, self esteem issues, Dean Winchester has a sexuality crisis, first time, homelessness, bed sharing, pining

Sex tags: anal sex, switching, bottom!Cas, bottom!Dean, first time, frottage, marking, blowjob, fingering, barebacking

Special warning: Contrary to what the title may presage, there are no spaghettis in this story. 

Summary: 

"Okay, let's be clear on one thing from the start. This is not a lifetime movie and I'm straight, so no falling in love, get it?"

"I get it, Dean," Castiel nods.

Well, that's it then, apparently Dean is going to a fancy engagement party with his new fake boyfriend. What a weird day. 

Link to AO3

Chapter 1 under the cut:

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

"Come on Ricky, you owe me that money!" Dean says on his phone, taking a step forward when the line of the coffee shop shortens. 

"I don't owe you shit, Dean. You still owe me the last three months of your rent," his ex landlord says on the phone.

"And I'll pay you, you know I will. But to get the money, I need a job, and to get that job I need some new clothes and-"

"Yeah yeah, I know the deal. You think no one has told me that one before? No bueno, man, I'm keeping your deposit," Ricky grumbles. 

Dean groans in frustration. "Come on, all I need is fifty dollars so I can buy a pair of pants without any holes in it. You give me fifty, I get the job and I pay you back, how does that sound?" he tries to negotiate. 

"Like a fucking lie," Ricky spits just before hanging up.

"No Ric-fuck!" 

The woman in front of him in line sends him a dark look. Dean rolls his eyes at her. Like she hasn't heard worse before. 

Ricky was his last shot. It was a long one, he really does owe that bastard some serious money. Guess he can kiss the job interview at two goodbye. It's some kind of assistant job. It sounds easy enough, buying coffee and picking dry cleaning and stuff. It was still a long shot anyway. Dean's only real job experience is being a bagger boy when he was seventeen and it lasted about two months before his dad decided to move them further east. 

So far, he'd always managed to get by doing repairs or cleaning at gas stops and motels. The older he gets and the harder it gets to find that kind of random job. People are more willing to give a few bucks in exchange for manual tasks to a kid than they are to a nearly thirty years old guy. Now they just tell him to fuck off. 

And since it's always been casual and off the book, the only official work experience he has is the bagger thing. He doesn't even have a high school diploma because he dropped out long before that. Not exactly a stellar resume. Which explains why he hasn't found work in eight month and is currently living in his car. Thank God he has Baby. 

He had been too ambitious thinking he could get his own place. It could only pay rent for about five months before he went broke. He's never had a home before, and had no idea that having an apartment cost so much. In motels, you don't exactly have to pay for water or heat or utilities. There was a bunch of stuff he hadn't planned for that ate up the last of his meagre savings. Ricky threw him out after three months when Dean couldn't scrape up enough money to pay rent anymore, putting a violent stop to Dean's pipe dream of living a normal life. He hoped it would be simpler to get a job if he had an actual address, had even thought about scrapping up enough to maybe get his GED. He's not sure what he's going to do now. 

He's always wanted to be a mechanic. If his dad ever taught him anything, it was how to take care of the Impala. John taught him all the basics and Dean got the knack of it. As a teen, he spent days reading car magazines and working on the Impala, trying to learn as much as he could about how cars worked and how to repair the different parts. He knows enough by now that he could easily work in a garage, but he's got no diploma, and hasn't found anyone willing to hire him on faith alone. 

The line of the coffee shop shortens again, the barista asking her order to the goody-two-shoes in front of him. Dean looks regretfully at the display of sandwiches. He searches his pockets and only comes up with three dollars. Of course, the cheapest piece of food cost four dollars. Dean sighs. Guess just a coffee will have to do today. 

He won't have another choice but to go to the soup kitchen tonight. He hates it there. The food is crap and he wants to punch the prancy people serving it. They always try to give him some Jesus bullshit with his food, like Jesus is ever gonna put a roof over his head and find him a decent job. Neither Jesus nor God nor whatever gives a crap about him. Not that he blames them. Hell, if they exist they're probably not big fans of the guy that used to slip into church as a kid to pick the lock of the donation box

"Just an americano, please," Dean says regretfully when the barista asks for his order. At least it will keep him warm and fill his stomach for a short while.

Halloween just went by and the weather is becoming really cold. He should use the last of Baby's tank to go as far south as he can before winter really hits. He probably won't get farther than Wichita though, and the thought makes him shiver. No one wants to get stuck for a winter in Wichita. Maybe he could go and see if he can make a few bucks at the nearest motel, that kind of place always needs a handyman's help. He hasn't tried the one on Corn Street yet. He's noticed only two lights are still working on their sign, he could offer to help with that. If he makes fifty bucks, he might be able to reach Austin. 

Dean stops on the sidewalk in front of the coffee shop, pondering if he should walk to the bar a few streets down or the motel. Sometimes Benny, the owner of the bar, lets him use the sink in the back to wash up. If he's lucky, he'll even get some leftovers from last night. It's generally just some stale pretzels, cold fries on good days, but it's still better than nothing. He's got two cans of beans and a car with an near empty tank to his name right now, so he's not picky. 

Dean takes a look at his watch. It's eleven thirty already, the leftovers are probably already in the trash at Benny's. The motel is probably his best bet. 

"I'll give you a hundred dollars if you pretend to be my boyfriend." comes a hoarse voice, way too close to his ear. 

Dean jumps, nearly spilling his coffee on himself. He spins to the right to face the man who just talked and is met with a pair of clear blue eyes. Way too close again. He waits a second for the man to take a step back as he realises as close Dean turning brought them, but the guy just continues to stare at him, head slightly tilted to the side. He's wearing an oversized trench coat over a dark blue suit that looks expensive. He's so close a gust of wind makes the bottom of his coat brushes Dean's shin. 

"Dude, personal space," Dean reproaches, taking a step back. "And fuck off, I don't swing that way," he adds, not meanly. It's not the first time he's getting hit on by a dude. Sadly, not even the weirdest. He's strictly into chicks though, so no dice.

"Two hundred bucks," the man insists. He looks ready to fall on his knees and beg, eyes going wider and wider as he throws a panicked look to the right of Dean's shoulder. "It won't take more than ten minutes and all you have to do is nod along," he begs, making Dean wonders if he's in danger somehow. Maybe he has a stalker or an abusive ex? 

Dean follows his eyes to a woman coming closer. She's very elegant in a grey pantsuit and a long white fur coat as she walks straight toward them. He can feel her eyes judging him even from thirty feet away, looking at him from head to toes. If he wasn't already self-aware of the number of holes in his jeans, he would definitely be under that gaze. 

"Five hundred dollars," the other man whispers just as the blond woman reaches them. 

"Castiel, dear, you should have told me we would have company, I would have notified the restaurant," the woman says, sending a clearly disapproving look toward Dean as she deposits a kiss on the other man's - (Castiel, apparently, what kind of name is that??) - cheek. 

"Mother, let me introduce you to my boyfriend," Castiel says, looking ill at ease. He's obviously not a very good liar. 

Dean blinks a few times as their attention turns toward him. Castiel seems to be trying to communicate something with his eyes, and Dean frowns in incomprehension for a moment before he gets the hint. 

"Huh. Dean. Winchester," he finally says. "Ma'am," he adds when she just continues to stare at him like he has grease smeared all over his face. He's pretty sure that she wouldn't want to touch his hand if he were to offer it to shake, so he doesn't. 

"Naomi Novak," she introduces herself. "What a delight to finally meet Castiel's new companion," Naomi says, her deadpan tone contradicting her words. "Of course, I would have preferred not to be ambushed by such an announcement. Castiel, you know, that Le Délice hates it when we change our reservation last minute. Who knows if they will even have a table for three," she declares, already composing a number on her phone. 

"It's okay, mother, Dean won't be joining us for lunch."

"Oh, is it because your attire isn't appropriate?" Castiel's mother asks, looking at the holes in Dean's jeans and the big leather jacket that used to be his dad's. "I assure you they won't say a word about it if you're with us," she reassures. 

Dean squirms a little, wondering what the hell is even happening. Ten minutes ago he was buying a coffee and going at his day like a perfectly normal person (well, albeit a homeless and jobless one). Now, his fashion sense is being criticized by the mother of a man who is pretending to be his boyfriend. Did a piano fall on his head or something? Has he finally lost his mind?

He looks to the man beside him. He's scratching the side of his neck in nervousness. The move makes his coat fall a little over his wrist, revealing a freaking Rolex watch. Dean looks back to the woman, eyes sliding on her diamond earrings and the huge rock around her neck. 

You know what? That's not okay. His stomach has been crying for food since last morning, and he's what? Supposed to help this stranger by saying no to free lunch at one of the most prestigious restaurants in town? Fuck no. He's gonna eat like a king and make a few hundred bucks off the back of those rich assholes. 

"In that case, it would be my pleasure to join you," Dean announces with his most charming smile. 

"What?" Castiel can't help but bark. "But y-your work thing?" he tries, sweating. The round panic eyes are back. Dean sends him his best shit eating grin. They both know he now either has to invite this stranger to lunch or reveal the lie to his mother. The guy is trapped and may as well continue to play along.

"It's not as important as a chance to finally get to know your mother, honey," Dean answers. "He's told me so many nice things about you, Naomi. Can I call you Naomi?"

"Of course, dear," Naomi says. She looks a little wide eyed too, probably thrown by Dean turning on the charm to the max.

"Perfect! We shall go now, we don't want to miss your reservation. I do hope it won't be too much of a bother for them to add a chair to your table," Dean says. He should probably tone it down with the pompous tone, because he nearly added an English accent here. 

Naomi leads the way, and Dean is going to follow when a hand grabbing his arm makes him fall a few steps behind. 

"What the hell are you doing?" Castiel hisses.

"Acting as your boyfriend?" Dean says innocently. By Castiel's glare, he's not fooled. 

"I asked you to nod silently for ten minutes, not to do method acting for a whole meal," he reproaches. Naomi sends a look behind her shoulder and Castiel smiles at her like there is no worries, indicating for her to lead the way, 

Dean shrugs. "I had some free time."

"I'm not giving you more money than planned, if that's your goal," Castiel says with a suspicious squint. 

"I'm fine with the five hundred as long as you're also paying for lunch," Dean says, wiggling his eyebrows as they walk toward the restaurant. Something passes on Castiel's face that Dean can't quite identify. The other man stares at him for so long that it's a wonder he doesn't trip. He finally relents with a long suffering sigh as they enter 'Le Délice'. 

Apparently, Naomi Novak is prominent enough that they don't mind changing her reservation after all. They're seated at a table near a legit indoor fountain. Dean is looking around, trying not to let show how impressed he is by the place. The walls are made of stone and covered in frescos that he always thought you couldn't see outside of a church or castle. A waiter gives him a leather covered menu and Dean opens it eagerly. After a few niceties to Naomi, they're asked what they want to drink. Dean has an inkling that he probably shouldn't ask for a beer in an establishment like this. 

"Same for me, please," he says after Castiel ordered some wine with a name Dean can't pronounce. At least, he hopes that's wine. Who knows. Hell, in this place the bottles of water are probably more expensive than his usual brand of beer. 

Dean starts to second guess his decision when he realizes that the menu is in french. What is it with rich people and France? He just wants a damn steak, how do you say that in french? Is there even steaks here or is it just frog legs and snails? Oh god, he hopes not. 

"I think I'll take the duck today," Naomi notes. "Nobody cooks it better than chef Francis. How about you Dean? Have you ever come here before?" There is a mean glint in her eyes that says she knows perfectly well he hasn't. Hell, from the side eyes he got from everyone as they crossed the room, everyone here knows he's not from their world. There are three holes in his jeans, threads hanging from the bottom and his dad's leather jacket probably should have ended up in the trash about three years ago. Even now, it's still too big for him and the sleeves are so scruffed that they're nearly paper thin. The original dark brown color has turned to a light beige in most places from wear. His scruff is just the bad side of too long now, and he hasn't had a haircut since April, strands starting to fall into his eyes. At least, he's wearing his best plaid shirt and managed to wash up last night, so he's not smelling too rank. Why would Castiel pick him out of all the people in the street at that moment to play his boyfriend? It makes no sense at all. From the guy's obvious discomfort as he hides behind his menu, he probably realizes it. 

"Actually, Naomi, duck sounds like a delicious idea," Dean says, voluntarily ignoring her question. To be honest, he’s never even eaten duck before, but it's poultry so it probably taste like chicken. You can't go wrong with chicken, right? His stomach certainly likes the idea, gurgling so loudly that he has to hide it behind a cough. 

Castiel ends up ordering some fish and soon their drinks arrive. Dean barely has time to sip at his red wine before Naomi pounces. 

"So, tell me everything, how did you two meet?"

Dean nearly chokes on his drink. Castiel seems to gulp down his whole glass. 

"We met at a coffee shop. Dean was in line in front of me and we started to talk," Castiel explains, not quite meeting anyone's eyes.

"How quaint!" Naomi exclaims, clasping her hands in delight. "I'm just sorry that you didn't tell me about it sooner, Castiel. How long have you been keeping this charming man a secret?"

"Not-," Castiel clears his throat, "-not long."

"Well, it's nice to finally meet you Dean. I sure wish this luncheon will give me the chance to learn everything about you."

Luncheon? Who even talks like that outside of Downton Abbey?

"I do hope I'll get to keep some mystery, we wouldn't want this guy to lose interest," Dean says with a wink. He pats Castiel's hand on the table. Should he hold it or something? How open on PDA are gay people those days? Not that he knows more about how heterosexual couple act in public anyway, especially in those crowds. It's probably safer to keep the PDA to a minimum here. 

"You have to at least tell me some things. For one, what career path are you on?" She looks like a shark circling her prey. 

"I'm a mechanic," he lies. He'd rather stay as close to the truth as possible. It's a little unfair that Castiel is letting him do all the talking when his initial demand was that he stayed silent, especially since it's his skin that Dean is apparently saving, but the guy looks like he's swallowed a potato whole. 

"Oh, that's...interesting," Naomi says in that insincere tone of hers. She looks like he told her he was fucking children’s corpses every full moon. He's two seconds away from telling her that he's actually jobless, penniless, and homeless, just to see her face, when Castiel intervenes. 

"How is Anna's engagement party coming on?" 

Thankfully, this seems to be a subject Naomi loves because she tells them about every aspect of the future party all the way through their meal. 

Duck, as it turns out, is actually very good. It's more like red meat than chicken, which is a great surprise. Although, Dean isn't a fan of the way rich people put tiny quantities of food in very large plates. He eats all the dinner rolls and scrapes every single bit of sauce out of his plate, yet he's still hungry by the end of it. He nearly starts crying when the waiter asks them if they'll take dessert and Naomi declines. He's starting to wonder if that little piece of duck was worth sitting through lunch with her. 

"That sounds like you're turning this into a wonderful event, mother, Anna must be delighted," Castiel compliments. 

"Oh, you know your sister," Naomi waves it off. "It sure feels like a nice opportunity to introduce your new beau to everyone."

Dean frowns. What's a beau? Is that him? That's not him, right?

"I wouldn't dare take any attention away from Anna," Castiel tries to refuse. 

"Don't be daft, you know your sister won't care. Everyone will be so happy that you've finally found-" she passes a long look, over Dean, like she's doubting anyone would actually approve of him. She certainly doesn't seem to, "-someone," she finishes lamely. 

"Oh shoot, I don't think I'm available that night," Dean tries to play off. 

"I'm not sure I've told you the date of it yet."

"Cas did," he says. The other man perks up at the surname, but whatever, 'Castiel' is a mouthful. "And I have this huh work thing, you know? Bummer," Dean says with a fake pout. 

"What kind of 'work thing' can a mechanic possibly have on a Saturday evening?"

Dean tenses up, pursing his lips. "One he can't get out of?"

"Nonsense, you're coming," Naomi brushes off. And that is that apparently. Shit. There is a vein about to pop on Castiel's forehead. "Castiel, dear, you look a little white. Was the fish okay?"

"I-Yeah-I-Actually, do you think we could possibly cut our lunch short? I am indeed feeling quite unwell."

"Of course, my dear," Naomi says, leaning forward until her hand touches his forehead. "You're as clammy as a fish. I should come home with you, and make sure you're okay," she announces, taking her napkin off her lap and deposing it on the table, ready to stand up. 

"No!" Castiel stops her, a little too brusquely. "I-Dean will take good care of me, don't worry," he says, getting up and grabbing Dean's arm so he does so too. Dean follows his lead, all too happy to get out of here. "Stay and enjoy your tea, mother."

"If you say so," Naomi says, sending an unsure look at Dean, obviously upset at being brushed off in his favor. "Call me this evening, or I'll worry all night."

"Of course, mother," Castiel acquiesces, kissing her cheek. Dean hovers behind him. Is he supposed to kiss her too? Wave hello? Shake her hand? 

"Dean," she says as what is apparently a sufficient goodbye. Thank God. "I'll be sure to see you on Saturday," she reminds just as they're walking away. 

Cas turns on him as soon as they're outside the restaurant. 

"What was that?!" he asks, not quite yelling. He starts pacing, rubbing a hand through his already pretty ruffled hair. 

"You owing me five hundred bucks? Dude, you're lucky I don't charge you more for the fresh hell I just lived through."

"You went through hell? You?!" his pacing gets faster and Dean has an idea that if he stops pacing he might punch him in the face. 

"That's what you get for asking this kind of stuff from a perfect stranger," Dean shrugs, pushing a pebble with the point of his shoe. His red sock is peeking out from a tiny hole near his big toe. It's such a contrast to how grand everything and everyone looked in there. It's making him feel like shit. He's maybe feeling a tiny bit guilty for trapping Castiel like that too. He doesn't seem like a bad guy, albeit one with a psycho mom.

Cas turns on him, eyes glaring and mouth open in what will probably be a flow of reproaches. He stops himself before he says anything though, seeming to deflate. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breathe instead, shoulders falling. "I'm sorry. You're right. I should be thanking you. I have no right to make you any reproach when I brought this on myself."

"It wasn't so bad, though, was it? I mean, I think I sold it?" Dean asks, a little hesitant. He even used pedantic talk and everything. 

"You did as well as could be expected."

"That's not much of a compliment…". 

"I shouldn't take more of your time," Cas apologizes, taking his wallet out. Dean goggles at the amount of cash in there. 

"You really shouldn't have that much cash on you, that's, like, asking for trouble."

Castiel squints at him like he's wondering if that means Dean is gonna rob him for a moment, before he hands him a wad of cash. 

Dean's eyes bulge out, "That's way more than five hundred dollars."

"There's also an advance in there to buy some clothes for the engagement party."

"The what now?" Dean blinks dumbly for a second until his brain catches up to what is happening. "Dude, no, I'm done!" 

"You were the one to push it so far in the first place," Castiel reminds. Accuses, really. 

"I just wanted to eat fancy food, okay! Not, like, go steady."

"There will be lots of food at my sister's engagement party," Castiel tries to persuade. Badly. 

Dean gives him a nonplussed look. The cash feels heavy in his hand. He's never had so much before. This could help him get a new start. What's a night of playing Downton Abbey compared to the many many nights he might not have to freeze his ass off in the backseat of his car thanks to it?

"Why are you even doing this anyway? And why would you choose me? Do I look that desperate for cash?"

"No," Cas says after what's definitely a too long pause. Dean scowls. "You were in front of me in the coffee shop line. I heard you talking on the phone. You said you needed some cash to buy a new outfit for a job interview. Begged, really."

"Where the fuck do you get on listening in on other people’s conversation?" 

"I didn't listen, I just heard."

"You know, what? Fuck you," Dean spits, "I don't need that bullshit in my life right now." He has enough cash to get to Austin and replenish his stock of food, even buy some new clothes. At least this way he can keep his dignity rather than being insulted by a bunch of rich assh-

"Please," Castiel begs, following him as Dean storms away. "You don't understand…"

"Oh I understand perfectly," Dean says, stopping and turning around so brusquely that they nearly bump into each other. "You think you can shit on other people from your high horse and that they'll still do your deed for a few hundred bucks. Well, I'm not your freaking puppet, man."

"I have never shitted on any-" he stops himself with a frustrated groan, before turning on the puppy dog eyes. "Dean, please. Listen to what I have to say at least?"

"I know what you're gonna say. I've seen that movie before, Cas. You're going to bring me to that party, so you can parade me around like I'm some earned price or some shit. Meanwhile you get to appease mommy dearest and the clan of hyenas putting pressure on you to find a husband, while still having the satisfaction of giving them a huge fuck you by bringing a guy like me instead of the golden boy they're dreaming of."

"I-" Castiel stops himself, pursing his lips. "That's actually not that far from the reality."

"Of course it isn't. Told you, I've seen that trope before. Except this is real life and your plan sucks, so you can keep your money and I'll keep my dignity. Just grow a pair and tell them all to fuck off, will ya?"

"You sure do like saying that to people," Castiel sulks. "Are you sure you can't do it for me?" 

"Oh believe me I would love to tell your mom to fuck off, but I like my balls attached to my body, so that's a hard pass."

Castiel laughs slightly at that and Dean can feel his own anger start to abate at the sound. "Good self-preservation instinct on your part," Cas mumbles. The puppy look is still there, except now it's making him feel like he's kicked the puppy.  

"You know, we're in the 21st century, right? You shouldn't feel pressured to the point of inventing a boyfriend. Who gives a shit about that nowadays?"

"My family does," Castiel answers in a long sigh. "You don't get it, how could you... I have three brothers, Dean," Castiel explains. "Two sisters. My little sister, who is just nineteen, just got engaged. I was already seen as the irremediably unwed one and now I…," he pauses, sending a nervous look at Dean, looking ashamed.

"Oh come on. How hard can it be? You're rich, objectively good looking. Do you have weird kinks or something?"

 "I-I wouldn't know. I've never even been in a relationship before," he confesses, looking at the ground.

"When you say 'relationship', you don't mean you've never…" Dean inquires. Cas' cheeks redden, and Dean blows like he just got punched. "Wow. That sucks."

"Yes, it's very pathetic."

"What? Eh no, it's not pathetic. Surprising, yeah. But, to each their own, you know?"

Cas inclines his head like he's not sure he does know. 

"I'm sorry I tried to drag you in all of this. You seem like a good man. You don't deserve-"

"-to be served on a platter to your family?" Dean asks, searching Castiel's gaze until they exchange a smile. 

"Yes. That." The man is still looking dejected. The money is still in Dean's hand. That duck really was good. Damn it.

"The food better be freaking awesome," Dean relents with a frustrated grunt. Castiel seems instantly relieved. "And you're not pretty woman-ing me," he warns, pointing a finger at the other man. "I'm choosing my own clothes and I don't give a shit if I don't know which fork to use for fish."

Castiel's head is tilted and he's blinking owlishly, like he doesn't understand a word that Dean is saying. Figures. He's not sure how he could convince anyone that he's this dork's boyfriend, honestly. Naomi certainly looked like she wasn't fooled. 

"I'm sorry for the way my mother behaved toward you. I assure you, being yourself will be amply sufficient to the task."

"Dude, the way y'all talk, where do you come from, Victorian England?"

"I-I don't think I have English ancestry, no. Why?"

They blink at each other for some time. 

"I must be a freaking masochist."

Cas' face scrunches up even more in incomprehension. 

"Okay, let's be clear on one thing from the start. This is not a lifetime movie and I'm straight, so: no falling in love, get it?"

"I get it, Dean," Castiel nods. 

Well, that's it then, apparently Dean is going to a fancy engagement party with his new boyfriend. What a weird day... 

You can read the rest on AO3

#destiel #destiel fic #deancas #dean/castiel #dean/cas #spn fic #ao3 fic #destiel fanfiction #AU #pretend/fake relationship #homeless!dean #rich!cas #myfic #my fic #castielific #castielificfic

[paperanddice]

Xander was the first member of the Gravelstoke family to decide to return it to its former glory. With the family greatly reduced in size and power, he took a personal hand in getting their assassination business started once more, training himself to peak form and proving the possibilities of killing for money with his own hands. Once he'd brought around his less personable siblings and a few other members of his extended family he trusted to keep quiet and smart about it, he stepped back from active duty and left the majority of killings to Tovin, Mikus and Alesia while he arranged business.

As the Gravelstokes reestablish themselves in this business, Xander handles most negotiations and planning with the help of his uncle Barin and his widowed sister-in-law Lenore (though neither have the level of combat skill that Xander or any of his siblings carry). His siblings don't have the personality for these kinds of talks, and his third wife Regan (the first two having died in "tragic accidents") was chosen for her looks and family connections. She's smart enough to not pry or ask questions, wanting nothing to do with the obviously horrible things her husband is up to behind the scenes. The last member of the family, Xander's only child Vincent, is a different problem. The boy is an exceptional killer, but far more unpleasant to be around than even Xander's siblings. Additionally, Vincent is incredibly picky about his targets, making him nearly useless as a hired killer. It is all Xander can do to keep the boy reigned in from more casual murder, as the family is not yet established enough to be able to get away with such activities.

Originally from the 4e Monster Vault: Threats to the Nentir Vale. This post came out a week ago on my Patreon. If you want to get access to all my monster conversions early, as well as access to my premade adventures and other material I'm working on, consider backing me there!

5th Edition

Xander Gravelstoke Medium humanoid (human), neutral evil Armor Class 19 (glamored studded leather) Hit Points 150 (20d8 + 60) Speed 30 ft. Str 17 (+3) Dex 20 (+5) Con 16 (+3) Int 15 (+2) Wis 18 (+4) Cha 20 (+5) Saving Throws Dex +9, Int +6, Cha +9 Skills Acrobatics +9, Deception +13, Insight +8, Perception +8, Persuasion +9 Senses passive Perception 18 Languages Common, Dwarvish, Elvish Challenge 10 (5900 XP) Cunning Action. On each of his turns, Xander can use a bonus action to take the Dash, Disengage, or Hide action. Evasion. If Xander is subjected to an effect that allows him to make a Dexterity saving throw to take only half damage, Xander instead takes no damage if he succeeds on the saving throw, and only half damage if he fails. Quick Rally (1/Short Rest). As a bonus action Xander can call out orders to his allies. Each creature of Xander's choice within 15 feet that can hear or see him can use its reaction to move up to 10 feet and make a melee weapon attack. Each target must attack a different creature. Shadow Step (1/Short Rest). Instead of moving normally on his turn, Xander can teleport up to 25 feet. Attacks against him have disadvantage until the start of his next turn. Sneak Attack (1/Turn). Xander deals an extra 35 (10d6) damage when he hits a target with a weapon attack and has advantage on the attack roll, or when the target is within 5 feet of an ally of Xander that isn't incapacitated and Xander doesn't have disadvantage on the attack roll. Special Equipment. Xander wears glamored studded leather. He wields two +1 shortswords. Stone Cold Slayer. Any creature reduced to 0 hit points by Xander is magically petrified. As long as the creature remains petrified, it cannot be raised from the dead. Xander can end the effect by touching the petrified creature. The effect can also be ended by spilling one or more drops of Xander's blood on the petrified creature, or by the greater restoration spell or similar magic. Actions Multiattack. Xander makes three attacks with his +1 shortswords, or two with his light crossbow. +1 Shortsword. Melee Weapon Attack: +10 to hit, reach 5 ft., one target. Hit: 9 (1d6+6) piercing damage. Light Crossbow. Ranged Weapon Attack: +9 to hit, range 80/320 ft., one target. Hit: 9 (1d8+5) piercing damage. Reactions Uncanny Dodge. Xander halves the damage that he takes from an attack that hits him. Xander must be able to see the attacker.

13th Age

Xander Gravelstoke Double Strength 8th level leader Initiative: +17 Shortsword +15 vs. AC - 45 damage Natural Even Hit: The target pops free from Xander. Natural Odd Hit or Miss: Xander can pop free from the target, move again, and make an off-hand swipe attack as a free action. [Special Trigger] Off-Hand Swipe +15 vs. AC - 30 damage Lunge +15 vs. AC - 65 damage. Xander treats the natural die roll as 5 points higher for the purpose of overcoming resistances to this attack Lunging Strike: This attack instead deals 95 damage on a hit if Xander first moves before attacking an enemy he was not engaged with at the start of his turn. Limited Use: Xander can use lunge only when the escalation die is even. Shadow Step: 1/battle, as a move action, Xander can teleport to a nearby location he can see and gain a +2 bonus to AC and PD until the start of his next turn. Stone Cold Slayer: When Xander drops an enemy to 0 hit points or lower, that enemy must begin making last gasp saves. On the fourth failure, the enemy dies and is turned to stone. While petrified in this way, the target can’t be returned to life. The effect can be ended if Xander willingly touches the statue, or by spilling a few drops of Xander’s blood onto it. Quick Rally: 1/battle, as a quick action, Xander issues a series of orders. 1d3 of his nearby allies can pop free from any target they’re engaged with, move to a nearby location, and make a melee basic attack. Each ally must attack a different enemy. AC 24 PD 22 MD 20 HP 202

#D&D #dnd #dungeons and dragons #5th edition #13th age #homebrew #my homebrew #monster #npc #humanoid #long post

[chemicalpink]

Hi! How are you?

I'm sorry for your loss recently, about your grandmother. I must've been so hard. I'm not sure what i could say to help or comfort but i'll like to give you a (virtual) big big hug if it's okay 👐🥺❤ I also hope you are able to take some time and care for yourself despitd your busy life schedule 💟

I have been reading some of your works for the last year since and i enjoy them a lot and thankful/impressed by the fact you still get to write despite your busy life (based on some of your posts). I hope the things finds you joy still sparks the same and will able to lift up some troubles you've been worrying even just a bit. Thank you for still sharing your works with us! 💖

anyways!

I don't know if this will reach you but I dunno why, i just have you get this out of my system and something with being an anon messenger suddenly gave me a push in my guts to let this all out (or maybe other people could relate and somehow maybe i'm not alone afterall). I am really not okay. This is kinda long and sad and feel free to dismiss this ask, totally fine. Somehow, i just needed to get this out and if its just out in the void, it sort of still gives me a hit relief.

I have been feeling lost for a couple of years. These past few months, I get to sort of reflect what my life has become and my plans for my own life, what I want to do. Basically, the past few years I had several but very short lived jobs (I had only 3). I started working in Feb 2018 and with that, basically had job hopped. I also realized that i'm thr type of person to quit when I thoroughly know that the thing is for me or not. I also on my last job because it was very toxic (after me, a lot of workers quit the company too so that says a lot for them). So its the reason why I only last for a month or 3 in those 3 jobs. I just thinking whether i'm too picky or unlucky or something. I stopped working (or look for work) in the year 2020, around January before the pandemic. So I just worked for the years 2018-2020.

At January 2020, my niece was born and somehow I got to be one of her caretakers (besides her parents of course). My mother sort of gave me the responsibility to take care of her because "that's what family do" and it was the same way she did with her siblings before. Since I was unemployed at the time, I agreed to help and of course since they're family and I love my sister and my niece as well. But a part of me also felt trapped and guilty for thinking that this sort of halted my life, the life I want to establish. I have been taking care of my niece till this day. It's not my sister and niece's fault for sure of course. But part of me feels anger towards my mother.

This is getting too long sorry.

Basically, I just realized over the couple of years:

• my mother have (not sure but just observation) the tendency to emotionally abuse me with all the guilting and controlling and passive-agressive treatments, making me feel that I have to sacrifice myself for others and thinking others above, that I should always try to understand others. She treats me like a slave, making me clean the house (with not much on her part); making me take care of my niece & nephew (especially when they were just newly born) when I never knew how to do it at all and not her teaching me things on how to do it. Somehow I have to know how do it on my own; pressuring me to take jobs that i totally cannot do bc its very far from my degree nature and skill-wise (I graduated in arts and design so i worked as a graphic designer/designer for a while). She doesn't know me at all or the nature of what i want to do and doesn't take effort to know so. I feel like I just have a big responsibility towards other but I can't focus on myself. Which leaves me neglecting myself and what I feel.

• I have been living here, with my sister and her family's place for a year now. Sleeping on their couch and I take care of her daughter mostly while my sister works. My sister now hired a helper since my sister's now gonna work full time and also to give me my own time on my hands as well. My sister's kind enough to offer her home too, knowing I don't have a good relationship with our mother (all of us siblings don't have the nicest relationship with her. They just moved out bc they got married and have a family of their own).

• I am about to move out of my sister's home and will move back again at our childhood home next few weeks from now. I will get to live with my parents again. This makes me very anxious and terrified. I've always feel like i don't have a space in that house anymore and that i am not respected as person. I know it's their house (and sort of their rules) but still. Idk i just feel terrible and defeated.

• i have been unemployed for almost 3 years now and i thiiink i have an idea of what job i want but still confused about making it a reality. I think i just need to get a job that's decent and will make me save enough (enough to move out). I just really want to saaave so that i could get to move out of that house.

So, in short-- I'm kind of lost and scared in my life. I'm clueless of what i want to do and what should I do. I'm terrified that I'll be again worse when i get to live with my mother again.

I'm scared to get stuck in there and stuck with the same horrible feelings and feeling defeated whether I'd get a job and get out of the house and get to live my own life. I'm 25 years old and as i've read on others, I should explore things out there and live my life.

I feel like I have no choice for a lot of times and now, i desperately want a bit of freedom and see out there of what I could do.

So that's all. You don't have to post or answer this. I just. I feel lost and defeated and desperate. I want to have money and savings and i want to have a career and a good/striving one. I do want to live my own life.

I don't know what to do with this and you also don't have anything to do with this but. I just want to get this out there cause i've been keeping this inside of me for yeaaars and i dunno. I'm not sure if it'll help but. Maybe it will and maybe there's also someone out there feeling trapped and hopeless. Anyways. Sorry this is long.

Thank you for giving us this space to vent.

I hope you're doing okay and get to feel better for the next days ❤

- 🌮 anon

🌮anon first, thank you so much for such sweet words, I shall return that amazing big virtual hug, and know that this is a safe place to just let go of anything on your mind.

I wish I could give you some type of answer that could make it all better but life doesn’t seem to work that way, going through a lot of stuff isn’t ideal and certainly it drains us so I’m sending you a lot of strength, everything that you feel around your experiences is 100% valid love.

20s and even 30s are quite the rollercoaster, we’ve been told time and time again that somehow life gets better, you’re set on the right path magically or something but it’s really not all that about just happening as much as it is about going through a lot of stuff, feeling a shit ton of emotions and being terrified of the future, and it’s only in human nature, it means we are taking over ourselves, breaking toxic cycles, daring to do thing you’ve never learned how to do but want to do so because you’re searching for happiness in your own terms.

There’s really no deadline set on humanity, some may grow and find their true call along the way, others will never stop looking for it, but none of that means that we don’t get to live for ourselves instead of for expectations. And it’s hard, and it’ll feel like a lot of baggage to carry, but it’s all in you to decide what’s the best next step to take and standardise your journey to your own liking, we are all happy to co-exist with you while you do so, at least I am. And I’ll be here either as a stranger on the internet that you may want to read from, as a safe anonymous space you can reach out to when you need it, or as someone, truly human, behind this text that is rooting for you without expectations, just wanting to applaud you for choosing to do things differently, for being so strong and keep on going under your own terms, no matter the outcome.

I’m sending much love your way 🌮 anon

#🌮 anon

[ghostgirl19posts]

Hi! First things first, that last chapter of falling in glove with you?? Awesome 😂 Ooh I saw your WIPs list and I'm INTRIGUED 😂😂😂 can I ask about red riding hood, blue collar and sheriff? 😁

Haha aww, thank you 🥰 I love baseball and Zelink, so combining the two has been really fun lol

Let's see...the red riding hood au takes place in Hateno, where Zelda lives as Purah's lab assistant and she isn't a princess. Link is the village's best huntsman who mostly makes his money from accepting jobs protecting people as they travel or helping them track down animals to hunt. One day, Purah tasks Zelda with making the journey to Akkala to deliver parts to Robbie and Zelda is THRILLED with the opportunity. However, she's disappointed to learn that she'll have a mandatory escort. Three guesses as to who that is ;)

Here's a snippet!

“I’ll be right back; I forgot my hood!”

She had only been gone for a minute. Perhaps two at the most. Yet in that scant amount of time her life had been changed forever.

Okay, perhaps that was exaggerating a little, but something did change in her life then.

That change, charging in like a storm and bringing the damage wrought by one, came in the form of Link. Or Linky, as Purah introduced him as with a cheeky wink and a snap of her fingers. She explained that she hired him to escort Zelda to and from the Akkala Tech Lab, despite Zelda’s whispered protestations that it wasn’t necessary and that she was more than capable of making the trip by herself.

Unfortunately, Purah would hear none of her highly convincing arguments, instead citing the risks of a possible attack from a wild animal or, Hylia forbid, a Yiga ambush. The group of rogue Sheikah were prone to rob and mercilessly kill innocent travelers, and guess which roads they seemed to frequent?

Why, exactly the same ones Zelda would be taking, of course.

Ultimately, she was given a choice: either put up with Link, or not go to Akkala at all.

Her pride and desire to prove herself to Purah won out in the end. Zelda roughly grabbed the basket of Sheikah parts, adjusted her traveling hood with an irritated flick of her hand, then brushed past her hired shadow, sure to hit his shoulder on the way out.

Blue collar!Link will be a series of oneshots on AO3 featuring modern Link working various blue collar jobs. The first one will have him be a welder. Others include him working as an elevator repairman, a bug exterminator, and an electrical power line repairman ;) And of course, these will all be Zelink lol

Unfortunately I don't have anything written other than a rough outline for each, and I don't want to give away what's gonna happen yet. But thank you for your interest :)

...

Sheriff!Link au will be a western with Link as the new sheriff in town that cleans up all the crime, and Zelda being the only daughter of the wealthy Rhoam Bosphoramus, who has a reputation for being extremely picky on who he lets take out his daughter.

Guess who Rhoam believes is Zelda's perfect match, much to her disagreement? ;)

I already posted this, but fuck it, it's the only solid writing I've got. Everything else that happens in the fic is still only in my head unfortunately lol:

“Who, her? Why, that there’s Miss Zelda Bosphoramus, prettiest girl in town. Look all you want, but don’t touch.”

“…”

“Her Daddy’s got her on a tight leash. Ain’t no man in town worthy enough to take his daughter out.”

“…”

“Heh, I’ve seen the same fire in yer eyes as plenty of other men. Trust me, it’s best to forget about any chance ya think ya have with her and move on. It’ll save ya a lot of heartache in the future.”

“…”

“And let me tell ya, a heart is the last thing ya want when handlin’ this town, Sheriff.”

Thank you for the ask! :D

#ask #wip ask

[bxllafanficc]

¡Skate/sing your hearts out! (Yuri Plisetsky x reader)

(part four)

Part one. Part two. Part three. Part five. Masterlist

Summary:After last year's cancellation of Figure Skating Grand Prix, Yuri Plisetsky finds himself unable to bring out his inner skater after a year of doing nothing but enjoy life like a regular teenager. That's when you enter the picture; We Are Voice Grand Awards's currently hottest competitive vocalist come first place two years in a row. Just like the other competitors of Grand Prix, it turns out that Victor and Yuuri faces the same issue. With an arrangement between Victor and Yakov, they agree to travel to Japan and hire you as a mutual coach for Yuri and Yuuri to help bring back the emotion into their performances like before, maybe even more intense than ever. Yuri however, who's never experienced issues with his coaches before, for some reason finds this one particularly difficult to coexist along with in their (reasonably) odd partnership. Warnings: none

*Your POV*

Your eyes scanned through the fully stocked room that came to be yours a couple of days ago. Fairly large and a great window where the sun came to welcome you each morning. Not even the blinds could stop it. Now it was fairly dark inside since the sun was about to go down. You reached for the light switch and scanned through all your products and belongings for things that you could possibly move somewhere else.

The grunt of the Russian skater behind you caused you to turn around. As you did, he stopped and returned your stare, as if waiting for you to announce something. There was a lot that you needed to clean up. If you had known that you'd be expecting a roommate, you'd already have done so. Guess Victor forgot to mention that too, eh?

The visible twitch in the corner of your left eye was impossible to force back. Just at the mere thought of unintentional (?) screwups of the one and only Victor Nikiforov. Now, just because he was your childhood friend, it didn't mean that he wouldn't receive a massive ass-whooping if he as much as repeated the same mistake three times the same day now the few remaining hours of the day. If only you could get that message through.

And, you kind of did. Just not to the man you intended. Yuri at the receiving end of your stare was just about to open his mouth to say something, what you assume, sour when he noticed the twitching of your eye. Surprisingly, it shut him up before he started. He kind of shielded himself behind one of his bags and eyed you carefully.

Shit, wrong Russian dude.

"Sorry, that was meant for Victor." You let out a sigh and helped him with one of his bags out in the hall. You got a simple nod from the boy just before you passed him in the doorway.

He's been acting all quiet and confused ever since you tended to his wounds. Was something you said unclear? Maybe you should make sure the two of you were on the same page. 'Later...' you thought.

Yuuri and Victor hurried to the entrance of your room with a couple of more bags.

"So what do you think about it, Yuri? Pretty special eh?" It was Yuuri who spoke up, probably just as an act of friendliness. Though, you could understand how a punk like Yuri might take it as teasing.

"I'm not staying here. There's- there is no way I'm sharing a room with another person. I should have my own room. Why can't Victor and (Y/n) share a room and I get my own?!"

Ah, there he is. You were starting to get worried that he might actually turn nice. Then you'd have to call an ambulance just to ease Yakov's mind if he ever found out.

"With that thief? Nuh-uh. He already owes me an entire bottle of lotion, a mascara and a lipgloss. And for some reason, my throwaway razors are gone too. I'm not endangering any more of my stuff to him!" You shot a glare at Victor but he intentionally pretended not to hear nor see you. Seriously?

"Just lock them up or something, I don't care. Maybe I should just sleep on the couch. Give me one reason why it's worth sharing this room with you."

You didn't really know why you felt so opposed to the thought of him sleeping on the couch. You should be relived that you wouldn't have to share room with The Russian punk. But you still mumbled the one sentence after taking a brief moment to carefully word out your reason.

"What did you say?"

"... I have a cat."

The silence following almost made you feel like the scene of these weird soap operas that streamed on tv once in a while. But you did have a cat. A beautiful sacred Birman with the eyes of an ocean. And you knew about Yuri's fascination with them. Victor mentioned it somewhere along the lines when discussing his arrival days ago. And if you had to give him one reason, then that would be the one. It's probably the only reason too.

"Where." It wasn't a question. It almost made you giggle but you kept a straight face. Victor who knew the reason behind your words, almost cracked under the pressure.

"He's probable sleeping under the blanket on my bed, as always-"

Yuri pushed Victor aside with a stern 'move' and headed for your bed. A little anxious, you followed him through the entrance, afraid that he would be like one of those crazy catpeople who never stopped bothering their cat. You worried because you were one of those people. But because your cat was rather clingy too and you always had a bunch of stuff to do daytime, it kind of evened out the contrast. Two crazy people were too much, you figured.

"Well, we'll go off now and let you two bond now. Don't forget that we're having afternoon tea in an hour!" And with that, Victor and Yuuri was out of the picture. For awhile.

A round uneven pile under you blanket made Yuri stop at the end of the bed. You stood beside him as he lifted the blanket, revealing the fuzzy ball that was your cat. Round eyes stared up at the both at you and the cat stretched it's back, making a 'u' position.

"His name is Magnolia. You'll have to apologize to him for interrupting his sleepy time though." You half expected Yuri to scoff at your statement, thinking you were taking the animal too seriously. But the baby voice he used to communicate with Magnolia next almost had you taking a step back.

"Hi, Magnolia... 'm sorry, pretty boy. You'll have to forgive me, I'm afraid." He kept on talking to the sleepy cat as he extended a hand for him to smell. Magnolia yawned and gave the hand a sniff before sitting up, eyes intensely staring into the boy's soul. You could tell by the hesitation of Yuri's petting hand that he really wanted the cat's approval. He cat kept staring him straight in the eyes which usually means bad. Though, the purring heard from his belly said the opposite. You finally relaxed a little. Magnolia is very picky with who gets to touch him and you were expecting a bite, honestly.

"He's always been so stare-y... I've figured that he only stare at people he like or something he finds very interesting." You crouched down beside Yuri and rested with your arms at the bedside.

"Like owner, like cat, I guess then. I feel like he has the exact same piercing gaze you gave me earlier." Yuri grinned smugly at you and turned back his attention to the ball of fur who stood up, stroking its back to your chin. A little heat rose to your cheeks and you hoped Magnolia covered it up well enough with his body. It was kind of true. And you couldn't really deny it. You always did watch things a little to intense. But just because you found people very interesting, always seeking to improve your understanding and emotional range at any given time. So you shrugged your shoulders and coughed a little when the cat made sure to get his butt all up in your face too. This habit, you had noticed, was a trait almost every cat held within them.

"You're going to object or what?" Yuri caught your attention again and Magnolia moved away from your face just in time. So he was expecting some kind of denial.

"You're not wrong... You've just got the wrong idea of it."

"What do you mean?"

"You should probably start getting yourself settled here. We only have one hour."

"You didn't answer me." Yuri's remark left unanswered as well as you stood up and threw a bag at him. A light 'oof' slipped through him as the heavy thing hit him right in the stomach.

"Hey!"

You grinned and opened another bag, pouring the internal onto the floor. Tons of clothes splattered on the floor. Everything in-between black training clothes to underwear and a pajamas with cat prints. A keychain with a chibi cat and a stuffed animal of a tiger fell out on the floor lastly on top of the pile. Yuri quickly made his way to the clothes and gathered them in his arms, trying to hide them away. It was worth taking an extra look at the blush staining his cheeks. You wondered if you'd just met a fellow catmerch fan as instense as you. No, this was far crazier than you! Especially as you recognized the keychain being a print of his own cat that you'd seen on a social media Yuri Plisetsky fanpage once.

"Y-you can't touch my stuff! Nor see it!" His voice was a good blend of anger and a thick stain of embarrassment.

Maybe it wasn't ideal poring someone else's belongings onto the floor. But you knew that look that Yuri bearded only moments ago. The cat had taken him as his loyal servant and Yuri wasn't intending to move until he had satisfied Magnolia's every need. If you let that happen, it would take the entire hour you had to clean up the room. And you clearly didn't have that time.

"Just hurry up and help me then if I'm not allowed to touch it!"

"Fine! And move your stupid clothes and stuff over to your half of the room!"

(A/N: Shoutout to my cat who gave me the entire butt-in-face idea through experience. I really owe you one, you little jerk<3 Also, what have you thought of the story so far? I bet you Victor has planned a familiar exercise for tomorrow's day of training. Just a little helping hand to get Yuri back into shape, y'know;))

#inspiration #yuri on ice fanfiction #yuri on ice fandom #yurianime #yuri katsuki #yuri on ice #yuri plisetsky x reader #yurio plisetsky #yuri plisetsky #viktor nikirofov

[succubused]

Lord Succ, I know this is not exactly an ask but to go back to normal, I wanted to recommend you some songs...? I don't know if they match your tastes but: After Dark by Mr. Kitty, Mr. Fear by Siamés, Love Me Dead by Ludo, Genghis Khan by Miike Snow, and Collar Full by Panic! At The Disco. I hope one of these hit the mark with you! And thank you for standing up against A/M ships, I'm so tired of those, and for your writing (Nomura should hire you for that DLC tbh). So... rec us some tunes too 👌

thank u so much all of this is so sweet im gonna die....and these songs are REALLY good and im usually very picky so thank im actually saving all of these

i can rec some stuff ive been listening to recently here:

lost lost lost - mr. fijiwiji

omen - the great discord

settle down - taylor phelan

devils i know - clavvs

wide awake - roniit

#Anonymous

[unholyhelbig]

Always incredible writing! Can't get enough of your storytelling and I'm sure many others can agree. Keep up the amazing stories. Prompt idea for ya since I've just been Netflixing tons of movies after work lol: Movie Tulip Fever, oldtimeAU Beca is a lowly painter who has been hired to paint a portrait of a wealthy man and his new much younger wife. She has married him to support her family. They fall in love. Btw the movie was pretty shitty lol, but I thought it would be a fun/diff idea for ya!

[A/N: Thank you so much! This movie would have been so much better if it was gay… Anyway, this is a big prompt so I could only fit so much into it. This is longer than I usually do. So if you guys want to see a part two, send me an ask about it!]  

The candle gave a soft light to the crowded room. It was an arc of brilliant yellows that was cut with a horrid orange. However, the two colors worked together in an almost therapeutic way- one tiny combination of wax and wick giving a new life to the smallest room in the house.

That was no feat; the mansion was massive- coated in royal reds and cobalt blues. Nothing was spared when it came to Garret Beale. His family being ahead of all the trade on their small island- often taking a page out of the colonist’s books and resorting to working with the men of the sea. Men who pillaged and brought back three times what this home was worth, only keeping a small portion of it to get the great law of the king off their flame-heated trails.

He was a handsome man, one with charming stature and the best-assembled clothes. Garret carried himself as such- royalty that didn’t have a true bloodline, but enough to get everything he desired. Including the woman who stood with a hard stare in front of him. His deep Irish eyes were scanning over her figure, taking in the small stature that she carried. In fact, she reminded him of one of his men; not a nationally regarded painter.

She wasn’t traditional, a pair of grey slacks and a black shirt hugged her figure, her eyes almost as dark as the midnight sky. Different colors of paint popped against the fabric; it made her look more like a street beggar than anything. But he had seen her work- seen the way she made use of the canvas and vibrant colors given to her. She was an artist, one like no other.

“I’ve seen your work,” Garret said, quite dramatically as he leaned backward in his seat. It creaked and groaned in irony. A man with that much wealth should have a better place to sit. Maybe there was some semantic value, but the woman didn’t question him. Instead, she lifted her chin, keeping her jaw tensed. “it’s good.”

“Just good?” She finally spoke, lifting her eyebrows. She leaned heavily on his hand-crafted desk, annoyance sparking within her stomach. He had more money than he knew what to do with; Beca running her fingers over the carved edge. It was done well. Better than his chair. “I mean no offense, Mr. Beale, but I have spent years studying under masters of artistic ability. You’ve pulled me from sea two weeks ago, for what? To design your walls?”

“Garret, please.” He seemed unphased by her annoyance. The man knew that she wasn’t happy, practically being pulled onto his family’s property. She agreed, having to travel weeks to even get to the home. He offered up a project, one that peaked her interest. “If I wanted to have my walls recolored, I would not send word for you, Miss Mitchell, have a seat.”

She drew in a soft breath, that skeptic look still in her deep stare. However, she eventually lowered herself into the chair pushing at the back of her legs. It was cold against her spine, making her swallow back a shiver uncomfortably. She waited patiently, despite questioning the man’s privilege.

“My wife,” he drew in a long breath, “She is quite exquisite.”

Beca pressed her lips together in a frim line, instantly finding discomfort in the man’s words. The whimsical look in his eyes solidifying just how much he cared for this unnamed woman. A small smile played at the corners of his expression. “I have yet to find someone who is talented enough to capture her beauty, which is why I called you.”

“To paint her?” She eased out, “I paint what I feel, Mr. Bea- Garret.” She corrected herself last minute. “There is no rhyme or rhythm to my work. It’s near impossible for me to construct something when I feel nothing.”

“Ah,” he leaned forward, pressing his elbows against the desk. “I assure you, Miss Mitchell when you see my wife it will be highly unlikely that you won’t feel a thing.”

She gave him a jarring look. This man was quite clearly in love with this woman. So much so that he would invite a near stranger into his home to paint a fine picture of her. He had apparently done so before, many times, but was never happy with the outcome. Men, she was sure, men who drooled and didn’t focus on the task at hand. Maybe that’s why he hand-selected her. It couldn’t’ just be based on her work. He was a picky man.

“Are you insisting that I should fall for this woman?”

“No, of course not.” He waved his hand dismissively “I merely suggest that you form a bond with her before you even sit down to draw your first stroke. I’ll pay for it all.”

She lifted both brows, her head resting on her hand as she kept her fingers on her lips. She watched him carefully. “How so?”

“You can stay here, for as long as you need. I certainly have the room to spare.” He stated plainly. “I just require that you spend time with my wife enough to know exactly what I need to be portrayed in her portrait.”

“Her essence,” Beca said as more of a statement than a question. “Not just the way she appears to the human eye.”

It was interesting, something Beca had never done before. She was more into taking an edge of charcoal and sitting on the bow of a boat- sketching the way the waves ate at a flat-lined shore. But if this woman, whoever she was, took so much captivation from the world, then it would be a certain challenge.

“Do we have a deal, Rebeca?” He held out his pale hand, firm and strong.

“It’s Beca.” She took his grasp in hers, squeezing it with force. “And how could I say no?”

The warm spring day changed the atmosphere in the usually dark house. There seemed to be no such thing as vibrant yellow, and unforgivable violent the night before. Beca having an uneasy sleep in one of the cold master bedrooms. It was far from comfortable- but still too fancy for her taste.

She woke up to a long ray of sun pressing against her gaze, birds chirping incessantly on the balcony. The stone balcony that was warmed by the very star that stirred her from her snooze. Regardless, she pulled herself from the clutches of the duvet, flinching as her bare feet hit the cold floor.

Begrudgingly, the talented artist slid on a pair of black pants and a loose fitting white shirt- not ever bringing more than that with her. She was fairly simple, hating the wire corsets and edged dresses of the time. They were too heavy and nice for her to paint in.

After lacing up a pair of brown leather boots, Beca made her way to the kitchen of the house. It wasn’t too far, Garret had set the place up like a maze, although, she was at the edge of it. He gave her a half-hearted tour before fleeing from the property himself, claiming of some business he had to do. It was close to three in the morning, there was nothing he could busy himself with at that hour- but again, the woman didn’t question his generosity.

She was close to the service quarters, residing in the same sector as the staff; she was staff. Having been hired for a job. To paint a wealthy man’s wife in exchange for room and board. Part of her wanted to drag it out to its full extent, the other part hating the idea of spending one more minute in this place.

A sickly-sweet scent coated her lungs the moment she walked into the kitchen. It was large, set up and built like a room from the Spanish colonies; complete with deep yellow walls and terracotta tile with intricate suns and moons. Natural light seeped in from the grassy courtyard. It was good work, just like Garret had said, no expense spared for his family.

There was a woman leaning heavily over a mass of dough, she was tall, almost tall enough to bump her head on the chandelier, it hung low enough. Flour coated her fingers and clothing as a strand of dirty brown hair fell from the bun on her head, sweat forming on the woman’s brow.  She glanced up with deep charcoal eyes at the change in atmosphere.

“Oh!” She let her folders fall back, moving her eyes down her smock as a certain heir of heat pressed against her cheek. She reached for a dish towel. “I’m sorry Miss Mitchell, I didn’t see you there. The dining room is right through the left corridor.”

This woman, whoever she was, looked petrified. Like she had done something wrong against the curiosity of the young artist. Beca having noticed the same thing as she cocked her head to the side slightly- like a lost puppy.

“I’m not looking for the dining room.” She stated simply from the doorway, trying not to scare the taller woman off. She was young, a simple look of amusement finding a way to her face. “You know who I am?”

“Of course.” The stranger let out a soft breath, pushing the base of her palms into the moldable dough. “Mr. Beale often hires new artists to tackle capturing the enigma that is his wife. Many of them leave after the first few days. They’re not very social.”

Her slate eyes flicked up towards Beca, almost as if asking a question.

“I’m not either,” She relented, a small smile on her lips. “But I know proper manners. I take it none of them have ever been back here?”

The woman grimaces, shaking her head as she struggles to blow the strands of stray hair from her gaze. She was becoming more comfortable with the conversation, with the presence of Beca in general. This was her kitchen, the woman knew not to overstep her boundaries.

“Never, Miss Mitchell.” She held back a snort. “Wouldn’t give the staff a second glance. A bit like Mr. Garret himself, if I might add.”

“Beca is fine.” The smaller girl said, shoving her hands in her pockets as the woman gave her a kind smile. She was different than the rest of them, actually making conversation and not attempting to rush the other way. She made eye contact and didn’t hold her shoulders along the straight edge of a metal plate. Instead, she looked calm and collected. Strong, even. “And you are?”

“The chef.” She answered on instinct.

“I figured that.” Beca elicited a small laugh. “I meant your name.”

“Oh,” she stilled her movements, a genuine smile finding it’s way to her flour specked face. “I’m Stacie Conrad.”

The Conrad’s were a fun group of people, a family name that Beca recognized almost immediately. She had met a man in the Pacific with the same surname, almost the same features as the chef that stood in front of her; a strong and seducing fella with a great sense of humor. If this woman was anything like her bloodline, Beca would get along great with her.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Stacie.” Beca reached out to shake the woman’s hand, reaching over the island, not hesitating a bit as the taller girl produced a powder covered one instead. She shrugged sheepishly- taking it regardless, Stacie’s mouth falling open. “What’s a little dirt?”

“Ah,” She nodded softly “Miss Chloe will love you.”

“Chloe huh?” The name rolled off of the artist’s lips. It was the first time that she had actually heard it. She was always proclaimed as Garrets wife, or even the woman no one could really paint. But she hadn’t met Beca yet. “Do you have any idea where she is?”

“You two haven’t met yet?” Stacie raised a pointed eyebrow.

“I got in around three last evening,” Beca explained, following that ashy stare towards the courtyard. It was a feat in its own; large hedges shielding the home from the outside world, lush green grass coating the full area, even a tall tree that produced bright fruit like that of a flame. Yellow and sharp. “Mr. Beale took me right to my quarters. After a tour, of course.”

“A fine man that’s proud of his home.” Stacie grimaced, stepping away from her task as she rounded the large counter. She was just as tall as Beca though, both of them turning towards the large doors, leaning heavily against the island as they stared out into the yard, Stacie crossing her arms over her chest. “Every morning, you can find Miss Chloe out here.”

“Reading?” The tiny girl still couldn’t see much but the yard- assuming the woman of the hour was situated on the other side of the large tree, back against the bark as she perused some ancient form of literature.

Stacie scoffed. “You wish.”

Beca threw her an odd glance before turning her attention back towards the area. Struggling to focus her hearing. She had been so focused before- not paying much stock to the little patch of outdoors. She noticed the taller woman first, at least she thought it was two women. Both in form fitted white suits- mesh masks over their faces. Fencing.

This woman who everyone raved bout was battling it out loudly with another, stepping gracefully against the grass, unlike any high-class girl that Beca had seen before. Both grunting as the metal of their foil’s clanked with each fluid hit. The shorter of the two took a step out of bounds, her partner not sparring a second.

“Avertissement” Beca scoffed under her breath, shaking her head.

“Aubrey never plays fair” Stacie spoke without tearing her gaze away from the pair. “I’m sure she does it to keep Chloe on her feet. You fence?”

“I used to.”

The two burst into laughter, muffled by the door that separated their spectators. Each woman panting with a purpose as the taller of the two removed her mask first- face red from the labor as she struggled to catch her composure. Stacie cocked an eyebrow at the blonde, cheeks maintaining their rosy complexion. “That’s Miss Posen.” She informed the small girl. “I swear, Chloe and she are joined at the hip. Protective, that one is.”

Aubrey went to remove her chest guard, but Beca didn’t have the attention span to continue watching the blonde. Instead, she focused on who she deemed to be Chloe. The mask was removed, a bout of coppery locks fell against her shoulders; she shook her head trying to free them from the heat of the island day. Her own chest was heaving, cheeks a bit red as she tucked her weapon beneath her arm. An angelic smile pressed close to her lips, a thin layer of sweat coating her collarbone.

“You’re drooling, Beca.”

“What?” The brunette snapped her mouth shut, dragging the back of her hand across her cheek, checking to make sure she was in fact, not drooling. Stacie was right, she could catch flies the longer she stood there, each passing second, she stared at Chloe made a heat press near her core. “I was doing no such thing.”

“Hmm,” Stacie nudged her new friend. “There is a reason they call Chloe Beale unpaintable.”                              

#beca mitchell #chloe beale #bechloe #fanfiction #request #i really like this