#FINALLY we are back to our regular programming

[ikjun]

If I don't find it now, I may never get another chance.

SQUID GAME 3 (2025) 3.04 - 222

[froztbyte]

Backstage Pass: Chapter 1

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“Okay, look alive, people! We have just received news from Honmoon Entertainment that they will be releasing a new girl group. And they want us, World Cable News, to be the main TV station for their first appearance to the world.” The Ceo of WCN said that as every important head figure of the channels was sitting in the conference room with their assistant behind them against the wall.

“This is going to bring our numbers to the sky,” said the Old man as he ended with a laugh. “Like usual, the girls will be shown on the Stardom World Channel. Jaewon, your team needs to make a good impression so they can return to us exclusively. Do you understand?” 

It didn’t take long for the boss of SWC to nod his head in response. 

“We just decided on the show the girl group will be appearing tomorrow night. We are currently finalizing the show's lineup. I have my best people working on it and ensuring things turn out well.”

“Lies, " you said in your head as your boss finished up his mini-statement. As long as you have been a paid intern at SWC, nothing has gone according to plan for your channel station. Leaks about upcoming idol announcements or special programs have occurred too frequently. The scheduled program would have to be rewritten the last hour before a show went live.  

Once the meeting was over, everyone started to head back to the office. And now everyone who works at SWC has started to stress out. At this point, you would have returned to your desk to attend to emails and assist your coworkers with some of their tasks. Your use of working from the background and maintaining a regular schedule can become boring at times. But it pays the bills, so you didn’t really complain about this current lifestyle. But before you could get back to your deck, your boss stopped you and told you to follow him to his office. 

“May I ask why this sudden meet-up?”

“We found out who was causing our leaks. They were fired, and since we have an opening spot. You’ll be responsible for the care of celebrities upon their arrival. Think of your chances of being fully hired if everything goes well tomorrow.” 

So, planning out all the things that the new girl group, Huntrix, needs is more complicated than you thought. As on the day before, you were moved around the whole station building. To get the necessary paperwork to reserve the two rooms that the group needs, but close enough for recording to be done. It wasn’t just Huntrix and their manager showing up. Celine, a member of Starlight Sisters who trained the girls, will also accompany them. 

Then, don't get started on what you have to do to find the drink and snacks the girls asked for. It was going to be hard to explain to her boss that the boatload of food was for Huntrix and hot for you. Then there was the task of finding all the items required for the station tradition when a new idol group debuts.  

The stress was getting to your head for sure as you spent most of your morning trying to find a work outfit suitable for meeting Huntrix. You might have gone through 6 different outfits before finally deciding on a semi-professional suit. Thinking of bringing heels to work might have been a mistake. Luckily, you have other shoes at your desk that you can switch to in case of anything. 

To make the day worse for you, you ran out of your contact lenses and had to bring your glasses to work for today's special event. You just pray to the gods that everything turns out fine. 

Now, it was just a matter of pre-setting everything before the Hunterrix arrived. It was clear that everyone at the station was on high alert today. Barriers were being placed around the building as people began to gather outside, hoping to catch a glimpse of the new idol group. As the last-minute setup was done on the set. Your walkie-talkie went off.

“AB for y/n.”

“Go for y/n,” you respond as you press on your earpiece to hear a little bit better. 

“We have our eyes on a black limo coming to the building. You might want to start heading down soon. Over.”  

“Copy. ETA less than 5 mins. Switching over to channel one (production). Over.” 

“Copy that.” It was time. It's time to show your boss what you can do. This intern can do more than just copy paperwork and get coffee for everyone at the station. The worst thing that could happen is you getting fired and having to go through the pains of a job search once more. With the current state of things, that is something that you want to avoid. 

As you made it down to the building entrance, you made it right in time as the black limo parked in front. Now, there was a noticeable number of people around the fence. Cameras were starting to take pictures. Fans are beginning to yell out the group's name. People are pulling out their phones to record this moment. You took one last deep breath to calm down your nerves.

“You got this, y/n. Just act as you know what you are doing, and everything should be fine… hopefully.” From there, you signal security to let Huntrix out of their limo. 

As the limbo door opened up, the crowd of people started to go wild. The first person to come out was the former Starlight Sister member, Celine. Behind them, it was a Huntrix member with purple hair styled out as one giant braid. There was a certain pride in her stance, as she was here to prove a point. 

Then up was the tallest person you have seen in a while. This Huntrix member had bright red hair styled out with mini high pigtails. She had a mysterious aura, as if she didn’t care what people thought of her. 

Finally, the last Huntrix member stepped out, and the height difference was clear as day from night. It was clear to see they were trying to hold in a burst of energy.

Last but not least, there was the manager of the girls, Bobby, since he was the one who wrote all the emails about what the girls required. 

It wouldn’t be long before all of them enter the building as they wave back at the fans. 

“Welcome to World Cable News, where stars get to shine. Your start as an idol group begins here … that was too much, wasn’t it?” And there goes your professionalism.  

“Ummmmm, just a bit,” said the ball of sunshine of the group. As the tallest member butted in, “It was.”

“Sorry, I’m forced to say that. Anyway, my name is y/n and I’m going to be your ‘helper’ for today. The recording for the show won’t be for a while. So, I’ll take you to your rooms.” So far, everything is going well. The ride in the elevator was quiet; no one said anything. But what was there to say? You're just a worker at the TV station. Someone else could be doing this same job, and they would react the same way. Luckily, that train of thought was cut short when the elevator doors opened up. 

You walked them to their room and turned to face, “The door to my left is for Mira and Zoey. The door on my right is for Celine and Rumi.”

“Wait, what about Bobby?” Said the mysterious girl.

“Don’t worry, girls, I’m going to go check on the production side of things. Making sure everything is fine. Just go ahead and relax while I check on things.” Said Bobby with a relaxed tone. 

“In your rooms, you’ll find snacks and other things to entertain yourself. I would like to thank Bobby for assisting me with the emails they sent me. Now, if you'd like anything, just let me know, as I’ll be waiting out here. Now, if you excuse me, I'll be guiding Bobby to production.”

At least there was a moment of calm for yourself; you explained to Bobby how this was your first day with all of this. Trying to make sure things went well was stressful for you. Luckily for you, he gave you a couple of tips and hopes the best for you. That was when your feet started to hurt; the choice of wearing heels finally caught up with you. But getting back to the girls was your main priority as you made it back to where the girls were residing. Once you finally made it back, that’s when Celine was leaving her room. 

“I trust that the girls won’t need any babysitting, but whatever happens, I’ll be leaving them to your care. That being said, I’ll be heading early to where recording will be done. Has the building had any major changes, right?”

The way that Celine presents herself makes you feel small. That having someone around telling her what to do was wrong. Not in a mean way, but it was clear that she had more experience with this situation than you did. 

 “Ummm…not that I know of.”

“Good, so it should be the same as before. Make sure the girls arrive on time.” Celine said as she started to walk away.

“Wait, you're not allowed to leave alone… and she's already gone.” Great, your boss is going to have your head on a stick. Might as well give production a heads up. As you sent the message to inform your team. The door to Mira and Zoey's room opens up. Like a switch in your brain, you reverted to your smiling professional mode. 

“I’m sorry, but it's possible to get some hot water for our ramyeon.” Says the ball of sunshine of the group, pointing at her beef bone broth ramyeon cup. Wait, if holding the beef bone broth ramyeon means she's Zoey, and the red-haired girl is Mira, then that would mean... She was the one who wanted the spicy ramyeon.

“Yes, of course, just hand over your cups and I’ll get them prepared.”

“Thank you so much.” Zoey said as she handed over the cup, “Hey Mira, hand over your ramyeon. The pretty girl is going to prepare it for us.”

HUH! Pretty! A rush of red started to show around your cheeks and the tips of your ears. The last time you heard someone say that to you was probably your mother. It wasn’t till today that you were trying to make yourself feel more presentable than usual. You would be brought back to reality when Zoey handed you over the Mira’s ramyeon. Luckily for you, Zoey didn’t notice your blush.

“I shouldn’t take long, Ms. Zoey. I’ll be back before you know it.” 

“Drop the miss. We are not that old.” Said Mira as she was sitting in a chair, eating some kimbap. 

“Noted. I won’t take long.” As you started to walk away, you stopped in front of Rumi’s door. At the same time, she hasn’t asked for anything. Something inside of you was telling you to check on her. Zoey and Mira have each other to entertain themselves. Rumi was just there, all by themselves. You were going to knock for a moment, but there was hesitation. Why did you even care? Rumi hasn’t asked for anything, so you shouldn’t bother her, right?

You knocked on the door.

The door opens. 

“Do you need something?” Asked Rumi. 

“Well, hum… Zoey and Mira wanted ramyeon, and I-I’m making it for them. So I-I thought you might w-wanted your made too. But it t-t-totally okay if you don’t want any. It’s n-not like I'm forcing you or anything… I'm going to shut up before I say anything I might regret now.” You were a stuttering mess.

Rumi let out a chuckle.

“I would like some ramyeon too.” She went to get her ramyeon cup. “I’ll be honest, I'm pretty surprised that you found most, if not all, the snacks the girls and I like to eat on. It should have taken you a while to find them all.” 

“Well, it's my job to make sure that the idols are comfortable when they are here. Though I’ll admit that I might have overdone it for being my first time doing all of this.” 

“Well, it’s my first time being an idol. So I say you're doing an amazing job so far.” Rumi said as she handed over the ramyeon. Before Rumi could close the door, you had something else to say.

“Hummm, more thing. Food usually tastes better when you're with friends or family. So I’ll turn a blind eye if you so happen to be with the other girls when I come back.” There was a silent moment there. While Rumi didn’t say anything, you could tell she was happy that you told her. 

“I’ll be back in five minutes. Do what you have to do.”

Making instant ramyeon isn't rocket science. Just get some hot water, pour it into the cup, and wait for three minutes. Then it's all done. Now to find a tray to carry it back in, so that took some of your time. Then you had to bring the Polaroid camera and photo album for the station tradition when a new idol group's debut. You looked at the clock, and there were about twenty minutes left before the girls had to head to production. Which caused you to speed walk back to get everything done. 

This time, when you made it back to the room, the door to Zoey and Mira’s room was already open. You heard the laughter of all three girls as you got closer. When you made it to their doorway, you playfully knock on the door to let the girls know you're here. That made them notice you at the entrance.

“Let's Go! Our ramyeon is here!” Said Zoey as you walked in and started to hand everyone their ramyeon.

“Spicy for Mira, Beef Bone Both for Zoey, and Last but not least, seafood flavor for Rumi.” With no hesitation, the girls started to eat their ramyeon. As you left the girls to eat, place the Polaroid camera and photo album on a mini tablet beside them, and begin to clean up the empty snack packs. 

“What with the camera and photo album.” Said Mira as she was the first one to finish eating her ramyeon.

“Oh, the station has a tradition. When a new idol group debuts here, they get their picture taken, and a page is dedicated to it in the photo album. I think there is a Starlight Sisters’ page in that album, specifically in that album.” You said you threw away the trash. 

“No way that means there is a picture of a young Celine in her golden age,” Zoey said as quickly, grabbed the album, and started to flip through the pages. Once she found it, Zoey let out a giant gasp. “No way!”

The other two girls started to gather around to see the page.

“Hey Rumi, isn’t that your mom right here. ” Said Mira as she pointed to a picture that had one of the Starlight Sisters decorating their braid with accessories. “You guys are rocking out the giant braid looks.”

“I never thought that I would see a picture of her today. It’s like she's still with me.” Said Rumi as she stared at that picture a bit longer. 

“Well, it is your time for you guys to leave a mark in the album,” You say as you grab the camera and face them to take a picture. “Everyone smile, and say Huntrix!”

“HUNTRIX!” All three of them yelled out as they did heart and peace signs. The camera would be passed around as all the girls started to take as many photos as they could before time was up. As the world will soon know these girls as pop stars. 

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It's 4 am as I'm posting this.

I'm sorry for not giving all the girls an equal amount of attention, but there will be other chapters dedicated to them.

Also, sorry if there are any grammar or spelling mistakes. I didn't pick up. I'm mostly an artist, not really a writer. Any, enjoy. Leave a like, comment, or reblog if this fic is worth writing some more. Anyway, I'm off to bed now.

-frozty

Edit: Hopefully, I fixed all the grammatical mistakes

[naumin]

How to format, print, and bind a zine

This is a consolidated version of previous posts on zine making, with more detail and screenshots. For a version of this post on gdocs, click here.

This is a step-by-step guide on how to use InDesign (or similar programs) to format and print a zine. This can be used for fanzines, sketchbooks, anything. It’s also only one way to do things - there are as many methods as there are zines under the sun. If you’re interested in other ways, searching for zinemaking on youtube would be a start.

If you are printing your zine, your total page count must be a multiple of 4.

Examples of multiples of 4 ✅

4, 16, 112

Not a multiple of 4 ❌

7, 99, 31

This is because our book will be made of folded A4 sheets (that’s regular printer paper). 1 folded A4 makes 2 A5 pages. Each A5 page has a front and back. Therefore each sheet of paper makes 4 pages.

How to format

Open InDesign. Go to Create New > Print. Choose A5 and tick Facing Pages. Enter your page number (this can be changed later). I’ve put 12. Hit Create.

Locate the Rectangle Frame Tool.

Draw a rectangle over your whole page, or just the part where you want your images to go.

Press Ctrl+D and insert the image you want on that page.

That’s it! Repeat on every page and you’ll have a book. Promise.

Further reading

I need a free alternative to InDesign.

InDesign is free for the savvy but I also recommend Scribus which is free and open source and very lightweight. The method is exactly the same but the Rectangle Frame Tool is called Image Frame and the Ctrl+D shortcut will now be Right click > Get Image instead.

I need help with designing my A5 pages.

For my first sketchbook zines, I arranged several images on an A5 canvas in a program like CSP or Procreate and exported them as a JPG into InDesign or Scribus. You can do this if your images aren’t already A5 size or you don’t want to waste time with InDesign’s formatting tools.

I need to get fancier with it, format text, or export my file as small as possible.

Here are the InDesign tutorials I used and liked:

How to Add Page Numbers

How to keep Page Numbers on Top

How to Create a Table of Contents

What is Overset Text and How to Fix It <- essential for formatting text onto multiple pages

How to Reduce InDesign File Sizes

Formatting best practices

Remember that in addition to your front and back cover you also have an inside front and inside back cover. You can leave these blank or create an endpaper with a pattern or include a short message or something. Look inside any books or zines on your shelf for inspiration. Or don’t listen to me and put your first drawing or poem there. Just be aware printer paper is thin so you might be able to see it through the cover.

Avoid putting anything important in the gutter (inside edge) or outside edges of the page. Also be careful of creating double page spreads that go across the centre of the book. Because of how we will print and fold the pages, each half of your spread might not meet up perfectly. 

How to print it out

Open your completed book’s PDF file in Acrobat Reader (free download: https://get.adobe.com/reader/)

Print with the following settings: Booklet, and Booklet subset: Both sides. 

We can see a preview of our print-out on the window on the right. The pages will look jumbled up, but form the book in order when folded.

Congratulations! Now you’ll have a stack of paper. Once it’s folded it should resemble your (unbound) final book. Use a bulldog clip or similar to keep your pages together neatly.

How to bind (2 methods)

If your book is less than 30 pages, I recommend using a long arm stapler, or a stapler that can open to lay flat. They are cheap.

There are also special book binding staplers or heavy duty staplers, if your book is thicker than 30 pages. Just position your book so the staples are in the middle of the spine (or as close as you can get) and send it. They will be a little wonky… that’s fine.

You can also separate your book into staple-able segments and then join them into 1 big book with tape or thread.

For my 112-page zine, I used thread to bind it.

These instructions are copied from the video ‘How to Print & Bind a Zine’ by LFONinja.

You can watch it here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zKYy6G7lIy8

You will need: Ruler, awl, thread, sewing needle

Make 5 holes in the crease of the pages like so. (½ page, then ½ of that, then ½ of that again)

If the paper is thick, be careful when making the holes. It helps to have a piece of blu tack, putty, or soft eraser underneath the spine of the book as you work for the point of the awl to push into.

I don’t recommend separating the papers into smaller stacks as your measurements will likely vary and the holes won’t align.

Use a needle and thread to go through the holes in the following pattern. At the end, tie a knot with the ends of the thread (1 and 9) in the centre of the book. You’re now done.

About page creep

Because we are using folded pages inserted into each other, they push each other out like so:

From: https://www.greenerprinter.com/ support/page-creep/

You can use a heavy duty or industrial paper cutter/trimmer to remove this edge. This is why we kept any important contents away from the edge of the page during formatting, because we don’t want this process to destroy our book’s contents.

About image edges

Because of how the printer works, the images in the book don’t extend all the way to the very edges of the paper and have a thin white border on all sides. It’s possible to crop these edges from your book with a heavy duty paper cutter. Be careful and start small (3mm or less). Depending on how much your pages move during the printing process, the size of the white edge can be different on different pages. Or you can just leave them in.

To read some of the zines featured in this post, check out naumin.itch.io.

[sunshine-lux]

Clueless (i.)

summary: Y/N and Peter have been friends for a while now. What happens when a new girl gets introduced to the group and fits in perfectly? New friendships are formed, old routines are broken, and one physics assignment threatens to blow up your world.

pairings: Stark!reader x MCU! Peter Parker

word count: 2k

Y/N and Peter. Peter and Y/N. The two teens had been inseparable ever since Tony Stark recruited Spider-Man to fight on his team against Captain America. Tony had enrolled his daughter into Midtown High School for the following school year to “keep an eye out” on the boy. Despite the fact the girl had never attended a regular high school in her life and she had skipped multiple grades in her homeschool program, Tony thought Y/N deserved a sense of normalcy in her life. And that’s exactly what Peter brought to the table. They were good for each other and everybody could see that.

To everyone except themselves.

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･

Y/N strolled down the hallway, heading toward the cafeteria with her new friend, Gwen. "You got the best schedule. You practically have classes with all my friends! I wish my first year here had been that easy," Y/N pouted. Gwen nudged her, eyes wide with disbelief. "Wait—what? You're telling me Y/N Stark had trouble making friends? My dad’s a cop, and I’m still shocked you’re even talking to me!"

Y/N laughed. "I don't see why that would stop me from being your friend. And trust me, my friends will totally love you! You’ll see right now." She grinned, spotting Peter, Ned, and MJ sitting at their usual table.

Gwen stood hesitantly behind Y/N as she introduced her to the group.

"Guys! This is our new friend, Gwen Stacy! She’s super sweet, so please... behave yourselves."

Gwen sat down next to Y/N, offering a nervous smile to the others.

MJ leaned across the table, hand extended. “Hey, I’m MJ. I guess Y/N’s making us befriend you. You seem sweet… It’s almost like you haven’t been emotionally destroyed by the Saw trap that is Midtown."

The comment sent the two boys into a fit of laughter.

Y/N kicked Ned under the table. "It’s really not that funny, guys." She turned to Gwen with an apologetic smile. "That’s—no. Okay, sorry, they’re just in a silly goofy mood today."

Peter glanced up at the girls, offering a warm smile. "If Y/N likes you, we like you. I trust her judgment... unlike some people," he added, narrowing his eyes at MJ.

"Yeah, of course you do, loverboy," MJ snorted.

Ned’s laughter grew louder, but when he saw the synchronized glares from Y/N and Peter, he finally calmed down, trying to stifle his amusement.

Gwen glanced around the table, her expression slightly puzzled by the entire interaction.

Peter offered her a nervous smile. “Hey, can I see your schedule?”

She nodded, flipping through her binder until she found the slip. Handing it over, she watched as Peter and Ned carefully studied it .

“Oh, nice! We have APUSH together next period!” Ned exclaimed, grinning. “Don’t worry—I’ll help you catch up.”

Peter nodded alongside Ned. “Yeah and it looks like you have Art and Psych with MJ. We have last period together as well.”

At the mention of her name, MJ looked up from her book and snatched Gwen’s schedule from Peter’s hand.

“I guess we do.” MJ sighed, “I can go get you after APUSH. We can walk together to art.”

Gwen visibly relaxed at her comment. She nodded and offered MJ a smile of appreciation. 

Y/N leaned back in her seat, satisfied that Gwen was settling in. Her eyes flicked to Peter — he was already looking at her. He offered her a small, crooked smile. That soft, familiar one that said “we did good” without saying anything at all.

She smiled back before quickly looking down at her tray, cheeks warming.

“So, Gwen,” Ned piped up, “what do you think of Midtown so far?”

“It’s… big,” Gwen laughed, tucking her hair behind her ear. “And definitely louder than I’m used to. But I think I’m gonna like it here.”

MJ, who hadn’t stopped flipping pages in her book, muttered, “Just wait ‘til Flash asks you to be a guest on his podcast. That’s when you’ll know it’s too late to escape.”

Everyone groaned. Gwen blinked. “He has a podcast?”

“God help us,” Y/N said, shaking her head.

The table fell into an easy rhythm of laughter and teasing — the kind that made newcomers feel like they’d always been there.

The bell rang before any of them even realized lunch was over. They grabbed their stuff, laughter still lingering in the air as they said quick goodbyes and split off of their next class. Peter hung back slightly, waiting for Y/N — like he always did — so he could walk her to class.

“Sooo,” Y/N started, swinging her backpack over one shoulder, “what are your first impressions? Come on, Parker. Be honest.”

Peter glanced at her, then plucked the bag from her shoulder without missing a beat. “I mean… she seems nice, I guess. I don’t really have like a full opinion yet.”

Y/N tilted her head, “Hmm. Alright. I think she’s super sweet. We’re definitely gonna be best friends in no time.”

They reached her classroom, and Peter handed her backpack back with a small smile.

“Thanks— oh, wait!” Y/N called as he turned. She leaned casually against the doorframe. “Almost forgot. We’re still on for tonight, right? My dad said we can order whatever we want.”

Peter grinned. “Of course. I’ll see you after school, Y/N/N.”

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･

After 3 long classes, school was finally over. Y/N stood outside the building, ignoring Happy’s texts that seemed to be blowing up her phone. 

Happy:

“I have places to be, Y/N 🙄”

“Hurry up, kid.”

“Drag Peter to the car if you have to.”

Peter stepped out of the building, eyes scanning the courtyard until they landed on Y/N leaning on the railing, phone in hand. His face lit up instantly. 

“Hey! Sorry for the wait– Mr. Lovatt just assigned us an insane physics project, supposed to be a semester-long. Total nightmare.” Peter says with an apologetic smile.

“Oh yikes,” Y/N cringes, “why is he always giving out the worst assignments?”

Peter groaned, “he prides himself in having an 80% fail rate-”

“Peter! You ready to go?”

The voice cut clean through the moment.

Y/N turned just as Peter froze. Gwen was hurrying over, a thick textbook clutched in her arms.

“Hi Gwen.” Y/N says, giving the girl a sweet smile.

Gwen waves at her then turns to Peter, “Sorry I stayed behind — I had a bunch of questions, and Mr. Lovatt gave me this packet of makeup work. ” She held up the fat stack with a wince. “He said if I want to pass, I’d better start yesterday.”

“Oh wow, yeah that is… a lot of work.” Peter winces.  “We can get right on that after we finish our outline.” 

Y/N raised an eyebrow, “You didn’t tell me you got paired up with Gwen.”

“Oh yeah! Mr. Lovatt said he was doing me a favor by pairing us up. It’s a lot of work so I figured we’d just go to my place and get started. Apparently Peter is the best in the class. Physics is my weakest subject so this works out perfectly!” Gwen rants.

Y/N nods and turns back to Peter. He still wouldn’t look at her.

“So… I take it you’re not coming over? No Love Island tonight?” she asked, trying to sound casual.

Peter glanced at the ground, red creeping up his neck. “I’m sorry,” he muttered. “We literally just got the assignment ten minutes ago…”

Gwen looked between them, instantly picking up on the shift in tone. “Oh my god — I didn’t know you guys had plans. We can totally start tomorrow or—”

“What–no! Don't worry about it, okay?” Y/N cuts her off, forcing a small laugh. “School stuff is way more important than…trashy reality TV.”

Gwen looked relieved. “Okay. I just didn’t want to overstep or be, like… rude.”

“You’re not. It’s fine, really,” Y/N said with a wave of her hand.

She turned to Peter one more time, but he still wouldn’t meet her eyes.

“I should go — Happy’s probably about to call in a wellness check,” she joked, pushing off the railing.

“Have fun, Gwen.”

“You too,” Gwen offered. “Nice seeing you.”

Y/N gave Peter one last punch to the arm as she passed. “Later, weirdo.”

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･

Y/N made her way to the parking lot, spotting Happy’s car near the front. Her chest felt strangely tight as her mind replayed the recent interaction. Why was Peter acting so weird about the whole thing? Sure, he had never missed out on Love Island before but he wouldn’t even look at her after Gwen confessed they’d been paired together. Did he really feel so awful for cancelling plans last minute? 

Y/N opened the car door and slid into the passenger seat with a heavy sigh.

“Finally.” Happy grumbled. “Where’s the other one?”

“He’s not coming.” Y/N states, buckling her seat belt.

Happy raised an eyebrow. “He’s missing out on Love Island? Isn’t there a recoupling tonight?”

“Yes. And yes,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Whatever. I had a long day — I don’t think I could’ve handled him yelling at the screen tonight.”

Happy can tell there’s something wrong but he doesn’t push it. He’s known her long enough to know that she’s not ready to admit she’s upset. 

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･

Later in the evening, Y/N slumped on the couch, a blanket pulled over her lap as the bright pink Love Island intro blared on the TV. 

The show had been reduced to background noise as she scrolled on her phone. Normally, Peter would’ve already shown her memes on his phone relating to the islanders or asked “we’re not voting for Casey, right?”

But tonight, she laid on the couch by herself. No one yelled at the screen when the islanders did dumb things. No one to show her silly memes.

Halfway through the episode, Y/N grabbed the remote and shut off the TV. The silence was deafening. She leaned her head back on the couch and stared at the ceiling.

It’s not a big deal, she told herself.

It wasn’t. It shouldn’t be.

So why did it feel like something had cracked?

Her fingers hovered over her phone screen again. She typed out a text.

hope the project’s going well. good luck :)

She stared at it. Then backspaced every word. Closed her messages.

A voice called from upstairs. “Ms. Stark, your dad wants to see you in the lab.”

She blinked, then groaned, pushing herself up. 

When she stepped into the lab, Tony was scrolling through what looked like seating arrangements on a tablet.

“Hey, kid,” he said without looking up. “I need you next Friday.”

“Why?”

“Oscorp gala. Norman’s hosting. You know the whole ‘Stark presence’ thing. Wear something that says I’m rich but not a bitch.”

Y/N snorted and leaned on the table. “Since when do we do Oscorp events?”

“Since they crawled back to us after their PR disaster with the algae-powered hovercars. Norman’s trying to play nice — and I want you there. No skipping.”

She gave a lazy salute. “Copy that. I’ll find something classy and non-threatening to wear.”

Tony nodded once, still tapping at the screen. Then, casually, “By the way, where’s underoos? Figured he’d be here by now, eating all my snacks and pretending he understands quantum encryption.”

Y/N hesitated just a second too long. “He had a school project. Got paired up with the new girl.”

Tony finally glanced up, sharp eyes narrowing slightly. “Ah. Gwen, right?”

Y/N didn’t respond, just looked past him at the glowing arc reactor on the wall.

“Huh,” Tony said simply, then looked back down at the tablet. “Alright. Don’t start a blood feud with her either. Not unless I can monetize it.”

She snorted. “Damn. There goes my evening plan.”

They lapsed into silence, the hum of the lab equipment filling the space.

After a beat, Tony added, almost offhandedly, “Osborn’s kid’s gonna be there too. Just got back from boarding school or some overpriced European nonsense. He’s around your age. Try to be nice.”

She didn’t say anything. Just nodded once, eyes back on the screen in front of her.

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･

author's note: this is my first time posting something like this omg guys. this came to me in a dream. i'm still not sure how many part this will be but i have some exciting stuff planned!

im curious as to how yall pictured Gwen lol pls tell me your face claim.

i really hope yall enjoyed!

[yuikomorii]

AYAYUI IDOL AU: Chapter 1

// I present to you… MY FIRST EVER FANFIC! It’s inspired by these headcanons and these posts. As mentioned before, in this story, the Sakamakis are simply regular idols with a vampire-themed concept; they’re not actually vampires or related. Since I noticed how much you all enjoy this kind of content and have been so supportive, I thought you might like a fanfic based on it. ☺️

I’m by no means a professional writer, and my style leans more towards the visual novel/otome game format. Even so, I hope you’ll like it! 💕

Voice announcement: Ladies and gentlemen, we have now arrived at our destination.

Before you disembark, please take a moment to ensure you have all your personal belongings with you. For your safety, mind the gap between the train and the platform edge as you exit.

We sincerely thank you for choosing our services and travelling with us. It has been our pleasure to serve you, and we hope to welcome you aboard again soon. Take care!

Yui: ( Eh? Is this…—! )

— eyes widen —

I’m here… I’m finally here!

Yui’s Monologue

I can’t believe my dream is actually coming true! All this time, this seemed like a childish wish but right now I truly am in Tokyo…!

Uuh… I’m getting a bit emotional, but can you blame me? It simply feels… surreal.

I never thought my father would agree to let me join a work exchange program in such a massive and dynamic city.

To be honest, I was half expecting him to say no, but it seems he believes in me more than I thought.

Knowing that he trusts me this much… it really makes me want to work even harder to prove he made the right choice.

Yes, that’s so. I will try my best to make father proud!

— takes big breath —

Yui: Nice to meet you, Tokyo. Let’s make this journey one to remember.

Place: Studio

Photographer: And~… pose! Ah yes, exactly like that! Keep on, keep on!

Ayato: ( Man, this shit is so tiring at this point. )

— smiles falsely —

Photographer: W-Wonderful…! Another one, thank you!

— keeps taking pictures —

Ayato: ( Can this woman stop blinding me with that flashlight already? It’s past 11 pm… )

Photographer: Now, a profile sho——

Manager: Hold on.

Pardon my intrusion, but I believe we already have enough pictures for today. Don't you think so?

Photographer: Eh? But we just got star— Oh my, it’s almost 12 am!?

G-Geez, my apologies. I guess the saying “time flies when you’re having fun” must really apply here.

— winks at Ayato —

Ayato: ( Gross! )

Manager: If more promotional pictures are required, we can extend the photoshoot to tomorrow. Watanabe-san, would it be possible for you to arrive earlier if that is the case?

Photographer: With such eye candy around, who could resist spending more time with him~?

Fufu, just kidding. I'll contact the director and get back to you with an answer as soon as possible.

Until then, have a good night! Bye-bye~!

— leaves —

Ayato: Haa… thanks goodness! One more photo, and I might’ve completely lost it.

Manager: I understand completely. Given your schedule, it’s clear you’re quite overworked. Nevertheless, it’s impressive how you still manage to perform so well.

Ayato: Heh… thanks.

— rubs eyes —

Manager: You look a bit tired, Ayato-san. Rest assured, the limousine should be arriving soon.

Ayato: Right, the limo is on its——

( Fuck! I can’t believe I almost forgot about it! )

Wait! Now that I think about it, I’ve got something else to take care of.

So… don’t mind me! Go ahead and take the limo; I’ll call for another one later.

Manager: Haa… Ayato-san.

You're not planning to do something that could get you into trouble, are you?

Ayato: O-Of course not! It’s just… no, it’s nothing important. Just a silly little thing I remembered I had to solve.

— tries to leave —

Manager: Ayato-san!

Ayato: Huh?

Manager: Do NOT let anyone see you, understood?

— Ayato nods and leaves —

???: You’re late.

Ayato: …!

Man, you almost gave me a heart attack!

Laito: My bad~. You came prepared at least, didn’t you?

Ayato: Yeah, yeah.

— puts cap and mask on —

Laito: Nfu, let’s go, shall we?

Place: Street

Yui: Uuh… come on! Why is no taxi in sight?

( It’s been two hours and I still couldn’t find my way to the Airbnb. )

( I knew Tokyo was huge, but I wasn’t expecting the transportation system to be this complicated… )

— looks at sky —

( It’s already late, huh? )

( I wonder if it’s safe for a girl to roam on these streets at this hour. Well, at least I hope it is, otherwise… )

Place: Private Night Club

Laito: Two Cosmopolitans. One for me, and one for that very fine lady over there, nfu.

Ayato: Another glass of Tequila.

Laito: Heh, another one? Is this the fifth by chance?

Ayato: I had a busy week, okay?

Laito: Ah, of course you did. After all, our Ayato-kun is the IT boy of this generation. Always swamped with brand deals, while the rest of us barely get a crumb~.

Ayato: …Not funny.

Laito: C’mon, don’t take it too seriously.

— pats his back —

I doubt any of us could care less about brand deals anyway. The idol job already pays well enough, and with barely any time for ourselves, why would we want to give up even more of our freedom?

Ayato: ( It’s not like it’s my choice though. )

Well, I can’t deny that the love I get is cool and all, but sometimes… hmm, how do I put it? It feels like people only like me because I’m an idol, y’know?

Laito: That’s to be expected, isn’t it? Fans often form a one-sided connection with idols simply because we’re constantly visible and accessible through the media, without really knowing who we are or what we’re capable of.

On top of that, you’re the visual, the face everyone admires. Who wouldn’t be drawn to someone who's not only stunning but also famous? It’s like the perfect package for embodying every girl’s fantasy.

Ayato’s monologue

Laito… he always knows what to say.

Seriously, this guy is so aware of everything around him to the point that it’s becoming unsettling.

And the worst part? He’s not just talking—he’s right, which is why it almost hurts to hear it.

At the end of the day, we idols are just puppets, carefully crafted to feed into the fans’ delusions. They don’t see us for who we truly are, but rather as a fantasy they can cling to.

And we, caught in the spotlight, are forced to live out that role.

Before becoming an idol, I was surrounded by people who kept me around because of my looks. At first, the amount of attention felt good, but as I mature, I realize just how hollow that really is.

I can’t help but wonder… if it weren’t for my appearance or status, would anyone actually treat me nicely? Would anyone be willing to accept me, flaws and all?

Heh… now I just sound stupid. As long as I’m an idol, I doubt I’ll get my answer anytime soon.

Waitress: Here we go, gentlemen. The Cosmopolitan and the Tequila.

Laito: Hello, earth to Ayato-kun, are you still in there?

— waves in front of his eyes —

Ayato: Yeah, yeah. I was just spacing out a bit.

Laito: Nfu, cheers.

Ayato: Cheers.

— they start drinking —

Ayato: Ngh…!

( My chest… it started aching! )

Laito: Hm, you good?

Ayato: Y-Yeah… I just— Ngh!

( It’s getting worse! )

I need some fresh air, that’s all.

— quickly puts on mask and cap —

I’ll be right back.

— quickly goes outside —

( Haa… Haa… what is happening…!? )

Agh… fuck!

( It hurts…! Could this be…—— )

— eyes widen —

( No… No, don’t tell me this is a real heart attack! )

Hnn… Ngh!

( What… what should I do now!? )

???: Quick! Please, drink this!!

— hands him water —

Ayato: Huh…?

— takes it and starts drinking —

???: A-Are you feeling better? I got another bottle in case you need it too.

Ayato: Haa… Haa… It’s okay now, all good.

???: Are you sure…? You really seemed in a lot of pain.

Ayato: Yeah… no worries.

( This girl… she just saved my life, didn’t she? )

By the way, uhm… thanks for that.

???: A-Ah, it’s nothing, really.

As far as I recall from my father, drinking water after alcohol can help reduce chest pain and lessen the severity of a hangover. I’m glad to see that it actually works.

Ayato: Heck yeah, I’m glad to see that it worked too, otherwise who knows how I would have ended up.

— the girl giggles —

???: You should be more careful though. Drinking too much alcohol can be very dangerous.

Ayato: ( Okay, mom. )

Yeah, yeah, I got it. I’m not usually like that.

Moreover… why exactly did you help me?

???: Eh? What do you mean?

Ayato: ( Could it be that she actually recognized me? )

( My face is practically hidden behind the mask and cap, and we’re in the dark, so there’s no way she could have, right? But if she did… )

???: Uuh… I suppose it was out of pure instinct.

Ayato: Instinct, huh?

???: Yup. You see, I heard you struggling, so there was no way I could brush that off.

Ayato: Hmm… But wait a minute, what were you doing all alone at this hour?

( What if she’s a stalker then? )

???: Ah… uhm… T-That’s a bit embarrassing to say out loud.

Ayato: Oh, come on, you straight up saw me about to drop dead from drinking Tequila. There’s no way this could be more embarrassing than that.

???: Actually… today’s my first day in Tokyo, and I’ve been struggling for almost 3 hours just trying to get to my Airbnb.

I tried taking the subway, but there were way too many lines, and I got lost at some point.

As for taxis, every time I tried to flag one down, the driver just ignored me.

Ayato: ( Nevermind, I’m taking it back. This might truly be more embarrassing. )

Pfft, why didn’t you call for a cab then?

???: I couldn’t find any reliable number…

Ayato: Hmm… Alright then.

I just arranged one for you. You’ll just have to tell them your location and wait for them to get you there. There’s also no need for you to pay.

— lends her money —

???: E-Eh!? Thank you… thank you so much! But I’m sorry, I just can’t accept the money!

Ayato: Nah, it’s fine, seriously. After all, you’re the one who helped me first.

Just promise me you won’t tell anyone about what happened today. Understood?

— the girl nods —

Ayato: Heh, great. Well, I guess it was nice to meet you. Now it’s time for me to return.

???: W-Wait! I forgot to catch your name!

Ayato: …!

( So she really doesn’t know me? )

It’s——

( No… it’s too risky. )

Oh look, the cab arrived! You should hurry up!

???: But—

( He left…? )

Yui’s monologue

As the taxi started moving, I found myself looking back, almost subconsciously, hoping to catch one last glimpse of that boy.

Today had been exhausting, but despite the strange circumstances in which we met, those brief minutes spent with him were oddly comforting.

I wonder who he is and what his life is like. It feels a bit silly, I know, to be thinking so much about someone whose name I don’t even know.

But there was something in his presence that made me feel in a way I haven’t felt in a long time.

Whatever it was, it stuck with me, lingering in my thoughts even after we parted ways.

My journey has only just begun, and yet I can’t shake the feeling that meeting him was no coincidence.

I really hope I get the chance to cross paths with him again.

[blueskiestarot]

Good News and Update on the Coworker Situation! 🎉🥳

Hey, guys! I don't know if y'all remember when I posted awhile back about the issues I was having with my coworker and I asked for advice about what to do because I was afraid I was overreacting. Well, y'all gave some really good advice that I was/am so grateful for. I took y'all's advice and I made an extensive list of every grievance I had with clear examples and evidence of some of the stuff she was doing. I also had another coworker who was having issues with her who could back me up and support my claims against her. Well, we both went to our boss and expressed our concerns. It was a lot of drama but it ended on a good note. My boss had a talk with my coworker, she moved her out of my classroom, and gave her a last chance with a different age group who may be a better fit for her. So, I finally have my hours back that this coworker demanded even though I have seniority over her and she was coming into my classroom, her problematic behaviors were addressed, and she got real consequences for her actions. So, the kiddos are no longer subjected to someone who doesn't really care about them, who gets too frustrated and expects too much of them for their age, and who just is not a very loving and kind person. It was a long process and a lot of drama for this whole week. That is why I haven't been posting much and why it's taken longer to get my shop back up and running. However, it was worth all the drama and conflict because I stood up for myself (which is very rare and very hard for me to do), the conflict between this coworker and I was solved, and I think this outcome was best for everyone involved (especially for my kiddos). I hope that she does better with this new age group and that she has learned from her mistakes.

So, I just wanted to give this update and let y'all know that it worked out in my favor. It's all because of the advice you gave me. I just wanted you all to know how grateful I am for your kind words and support! Anyways, we will back to the regular programming on this blog shortly . lol. 🤓

[captainsophiestark]

Don't Mess With Demeter

Luke Castellan x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Written for Fictober 2024!

Fandom: Percy Jackson

Day One Prompt: "That was good work."

Summary: Travis and Connor Stoll like to cause problems. Fortunately, having Luke Castellan for a boyfriend can help take the sting out of dealing with those problems.

Word Count: 1,802

Category: Fluff, Humor

A/N: Happy spooky season everyone!

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

"I AM GOING TO KILL YOU TWO!"

My eyes snapped open at the screeching sound coming from just outside my cabin. I rolled out of bed quickly, hustling to the front door in my pajamas, to find Katie Gardner absolutley fuming in the front doorway. Her fists were clenched as she started at someone beyond the cabin door, the early morning light giving her silhouette a rosy glow.

I hadn't had a chance to look at the clock, but clearly it was much too early on a Saturday for me to be dealing with this. Unfortunately for me, as the head counselor for the Demeter cabin, I didn't actually have a choice.

I followed Katie as she stormed outside, in hot pursuit of whoever had gotten on her bad side. As she stepped further into the light, I realized she was absolutley dripping wet, and the most likely series of events clicked into my head at the exact same time I heard the Stolls cackle.

Damned Hermes kids. I knew better than to expect them to ever stop pranking us completely, especially since Travis seemed to use it as a way to flirt with Katie, but did they have to do it so early in the morning?

By the time I cleared the Demeter cabin's front steps, Katie had already chased the Stolls halfway across the lawn full of cabins, shouting and hurling seed packets at them as she went. With a little Demeter magic, she made the packets explode as soon as they got close enough to the Stolls. For the sake of every single camper still asleep, I needed to put a stop to this sooner than later.

I snatched up my own handful of seeds that had been sitting outside the cabin, then took off after Katie, Connor, and Travis. The Stolls kept cutting back and forth across the grass, Katie always a few steps behind them, which made it much easier for me to catch up to the trio by skipping the zig zags. Connor made it almost to the treeline of the forest before apparently remembering he might not want to take a fight with a Demeter kid into the woods, so he came to a screeching halt. Travis, who'd had his head turned to grin at Katie, ran right into his back. The two went toppling to the ground, and when I finally reached them, Katie had her arm pulled back to annihilate the brothers with whatever she managed to grow out of all the seeds she'd grabbed.

"Nope!" I cried, using one hand to stop Katie from following through on her throw while I scattered my own seeds with the other. A little concentration and a wave of my hand later, some flowers had sprouted and wrapped lightly around the Stolls' legs, keeping them in place at least for the moment. I turned my attention fully to Katie again.

She scolwed me, her half-dry hair and near-growling tone giving her quite a wild look.

"What are you doing? I had them!"

"Katie, as much as I get where you're coming from, I can't let you make the Stolls into living tress."

"Why not? They deserve it! It'd finally stop them from showing up at our cabin at five in the morning on a Saturday just to mess with us!" I grimaced. I knew it was early, but 5am... oof. "See! You know I'm right."

I sighed. "While my regular camper heart might agree with you, since my alarm was you screaming thanks to their prank... my senior counselor brain is reminding me we don't get to kill the other campers, even when they might deserve it. Sorry, Katie."

"So what, they just get away with it? Like nothing ever happened?"

"No, definitley not." I turned to the Stolls again, hands on my hips. They'd both managed to get about halfway out of my flower trap, but they froze on the spot when they noticed my attention on them. "What do you think, boys? You drove a daughter of Demeter to a murderous rage. I think that's gonna take quite a bit to make up for it."

They both sighed, relaxing back against the ground as they shared a look. They communicated silently for a few moments, Travis opening his mouth to say something before Connor held up a hand. Finally, Connor turned back to me.

"We'll take her stable cleaning chores for the week," he said. Katie and I scoffed in sync.

"Nice try, Connor. How about this? Both of you take all of Katie's chore spots for the next week, and I'll schedule you a few extra rotations in the stables, since you seemed so willing to take over there. And if you wake me up this early in the morning by going after one of my siblings again, I might just roll over and go back to sleep while Katie takes care of the problem for me."

Travis huffed, flopping onto his back on the ground, and Connor narrowed his eyes at me.

"That seems a little harsh."

"Oh, by all means. Let me wake you up at five tomorrow with screaming and a run and see how you feel about it."

"Fine. Message recieved," he huffed, rolling his eyes. I waved my hand to free them both from the flower trap and they stood. They made it all the way to the door of the Hermes cabin, Travis shooting a wink at Katie as he went, before Connor paused and turned back to me. "We'll make sure to schedule our pranks in the late morning from now on."

The grin those two gave me before ducking through the door was mischief incranate, but I just sighed. Now that the crisis had been dealt with, all I wanted was to go back to sleep.

"I'm going to kill them," Katie huffed from beside me. I turned to her with a lopsided smile.

"Even Travis?"

"Of course Travis! Why would you even ask me that?" I raised an eyebrow at her, and despite her scowl, she blushed furiously. "Oh, shut up! A traitor in my own house..."

She shook her head, grumbling as she headed back to our cabin without looking back at me. I just grinned as I watched her go. As much as she liked to complain about the Stolls, I'd seen her shoulder to shoulder having the time of her life with them too many times to believe she really hated them. Travis especially.

The sound of a door opening and closing drew my attention away from Katie and back to the Hermes cabin. I got ready to hurl another handful of seeds if the Stolls had decided to pick possibly the worst time ever to show their faces again, but instead, I got a much nicer surprise. Luke, my boyfriend and the head counselor of the Hermes cabin, wandered out in a camp t-shirt and his pajama pants, his hair a delightfully ruffled mess.

"Hey," he called as he walked towards me. "Any idea why the Stolls just came running into my cabin muttering and plotting?"

"Is that not just the base state of Hermes kids?"

"Very funny," he huffed, and I grinned.

"They dumped a bucket of water on Katie's head this morning. I woke up to her screaming bloody vengance, and just managed to catch them before she got her revenge. In the interest of keeping the peace, I gave them all her chore spots in exchange for Katie not attacking them. Then I made sure they knew I wasn't going to get up to save them next time if something happened before nine am."

Luke laughed, pulling me in close for a hug as he finally reached me. I let him, leaning into his chest and sighing in the now-peaceful morning.

"You know they're just going to wait until about five minutes after nine now, right?"

"Yeah."

"As long as you're prepared. Still. That was good work." He pulled back with a smile, then leaned in as if to kiss me. I leaned back, putting a hand on his chest to stop him, and he frowned.

"Kisses are for boyfriends who don't abandon me to deal with his problem-children on my own. At five in the morning."

Luke huffed a laugh before pulling me back into his chest. I let him, although I put up a little resistance just to make my point.

"Hm. I don't suppose there's anything I can do to make it up to you? Get back in your good graces?"

"I don't know, Castellan. Connor and Travis made me run at five in the morning."

"Oh, it's Castellan now, is it?"

"Mhm."

"Alright. What if... I put together an extra-special date for us tonight? Something romantic, relaxing, and maybe even a little magical. Would that get me back in your good graces?"

I hummed pretending to think about it. Luke kissed the top of my head, then pulled back again enough to look me in the eye. He raised an eyebrow.

"Well?"

"I guess that might work. Depending on just how relaxing and romantic said date is."

"Oh, I can promise you right now, it'll be the most romantic and the most relaxing. And even better, I'll make sure nobody can interrupt us with camp problems, pranks, or anything else for the rest of the night."

"You really think you can make that happen?" I asked, letting the skepticism creep into my voice. By virtue of being two of the oldest campers who'd also been here close to the longest, we got roped into everything. Luke just grinned back at me, a little bit of his family resemblance to the Stolls creeping through via the glint in his eyes.

"I really think I can."

I grinned, dropping the huffy act and leaning up to kiss him on the cheek.

"Well, good. Because after this morning, I need a night like that with my favorite person."

"So I take it I'm at least mostly off the hook?"

"Mostly. All the way if and when we get our peaceful night tonight."

"Can't wait."

We shared a smile, then Luke leaned in to kiss me, and this time I let him. Despite the early hour, the moment alone with the camp so quiet as the sun rose over Long Island Sound was actually pretty nice. After a moment, though, I pulled back, and Luke and I shared a sigh.

"You wanna head to breakfast while we can still get away with sitting at the same table? Before the rest of the campers show up?"

"Always," he said, smiling again and taking my hand in his. The two of us headed off to the dining pavilion together, taking the rare opportunity to enjoy a peaceful morning together. Would I have preferred to still be asleep right now? Sure. But if I couldn't get that, then a nice, quiet morning with Luke wasn't a bad second option.

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

Everything Taglist: @rosecentury @kmc1989 @space-helen

Riordanverse: @valkyriepirate

[professorfcknmoriarty]

Best of Sam/Evan 2024 Fic Recs

Home is not a place words: 33,711 (bioloyg)

Much like the magic they sought out to understand, this thing between Sam and Evan is both new and very, very old. What was once an amorphous well of love and trust has split into its constituent parts for examination. Only, Evan isn’t sure that he wants to examine it. As the age old saying goes, if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it. ~ “You cool, or am I gonna have to put you in an arm bar again?” T2 snorts, a somewhat disaffected sound. Evan gets the sense that he just said the equivalent of, “You could try.” Evan huffs and squats so that they’re on the same plain. Sort of. “Look, I’m gonna be living here for an unspecified amount of time, which means we’ll be seeing each other on a pretty regular basis.” He’s met with a blank look that communicates something to the effect of, “Yeah… and?” “So,” Evan begins pointedly, “We’re gonna have to find a way to get along. For Sam’s sake.” If it weren’t for her, he’d be fine beefing with this teacup pig for the rest of his natural life. T2 takes a moment, his tail flicking as he considers this. He lifts his head with an air of finality, which Evan takes as his cue to continue. “Truce?” Evan tries. “At least temporarily.”

Show me your scars, and I'll show you my heart words: 2,525 (bioloyg)

An unofficial follow up to Home is not a place ~ She loves his smile. It makes her heart do funny things. When it was rare, Sam could rationalize the response, but now that they come more freely, she’s forced to sit with the fact that she loves Evan. She may even be in love with him, though she has no way of knowing without something to compare the feeling to. That was scarier a year ago than it is now. She knows Evan won’t fault her for taking the time to figure it out on her own.

Our Rituals of Care words: 39,174 (WIP) (Vee (Vera_DragonMuse))

The unpredictable and unconscious workings of new magic weave their way through the Pilot Program and suffuses their lives with warmth.

Tender Ferocity: The Founders in the Early Days of New Magic (2024-2027) words: 12,655 (Vee (Vera_DragonMuse))

Thank you for attending the opening of Tender Ferocity. We value your membership to the Boodle-Stitchnit Museum of Magic History and in thanks for your continued support, this guidebook has been included with no additional cost. It provides replications of all the works on display, in-depth image descriptions, additional information, and transcriptions where needed. The exhibit will run through the end of December 2253.

Even though we're miles apart, we're each other's destiny words: 9,280 (godhashealed)

Sam finally gets Evan to go to a party. *** “You should bring Evan to one of your parties” Their face is beaming with mischief reflecting Sam’s disbelief at the nature of their question. Sam muses for a moment before ultimately coming back to reality “I don’t think Evan would have fun at the parties I go to, maybe a gala…I’m already planning to ask him about one of those so I can surprise him with Davey” K makes a buzzer noise with their mouth and frowns. “Cmonnnnnnnn you don’t know unless you ask. And he never says no to you .”

Seegenpelater words: 6,041 (Aryn)

“Okay,” Sam says, leaning back to sit on her knees and clap her hands on her thighs. “I know it’s late, but I’m calling an Honesty Hour. That alright with you?”

“Can’t think of a better time to do it,” Evan says with a shrug.

“Is there any part of you that is disappointed I didn’t seek out Seegenpelater after the Qohlye denied me, even if their magic was better suited for me?”

Or: Sam has a nightmare, and has a long-overdue chat with Evan about it.

a reason for dreaming words: 5,337 (cigfigs)

Sam and Evan have been dating for a while now, and they've honestly never been happier. But there's one thing that Sam has never liked, and Evan's on a quest to mend that wound. He's successful, but not quite in the way he expects. Can be read as a follow-up to 'heaven is not fit to house a love like you and i' but again is not a necessary read to understand! It's basically just smut. Soooo, enjoy!

would it be so bad? Words: 4,006 (rramfx)

“Would you like to sit with me?” She asked, quieter than she’d been. The man shook his head, taking a step back. “I would hate to impose, I’ve already ruined some of your garden, I would hate for more to die because of me.” “You said you want to see my flowers up close. The ones closest to me will not die.” “How can you be sure?” Sam thought for a moment. “Would it be so bad if they did?” --- obligatory hades and persephone retelling because it's LITERALLY evan and saM

heaven was not fit to house a love like you and i words: 4,051 (cigfigs)

Sam and Evan spend a sleepy morning in each other's arms and reflect on the effects their relationship has had on their personalities and feelings and who they have become. somewhat of a character study. sort of an epilogue follow-up to 'i'm yours and thats it. forever' but can be read as a standalone as it doesn't really reference anything from earlier. if read as an epilogue, it is set several months later :)

but i'll be there next time words: 1,112 (kermit_coded)

"I'm looking for a reason to have a sofa."

The Smallest of Hopes words: 3,975 (lavbeebear)

Evan is a creature more designed for paranoia than for hope, it's only in recent years that these instincts have lead him astray and he's been forced to try and learn to wrangle them. Starting as quickly as their post-mission meal at Nandos Evan finds himself unable to believe that the goodness can stick even when he beats the fearful monster inside of himself as fiercely as he can. Evan is an animal surrounded by people who love him with and through his many fears, and as they prepare to go their separate ways Evan tries to hold onto his very fragile hope. Or: post-canon angst about Evan and his tape box of hope, his fears about authority and his need to protect his friends while struggling to verbalize what he needs to feel protected but just this once people are getting it right for him

Watching Somone Lose Their Mind words: 1,221 (lavbeebear)

Sam is trying very hard to keep everyone on track and everyone around her is losing their grip on reality, it is all a puzzle that can be solved though. It's all fine and normal a kind of thing to worry about but something easily moved on from until Sam saves the day and unmakes her friends with one simple turn of phrase. Or: Sometimes you accidentally make your friend say a lot of things and you think really hard about how you would do anything for him to always feel good

I want a reason to buy a sofa. words: 1,741 (pengblackgirlorjustlexi)

Evan invites Sam to his studio and they have pre-sofa conversations.

Feeling Someone Find You words: 2,507 (lavbeebear)

They've saved the world but now Evan's run away again to escape the burden of his wanting that he throws on other's shoulders. He is only trouble, too much work and only something that other's are forced to carry until they can throw him aside. He must finish the task, try and right the many wrongs he's put upon the world. Impossible to do, worse if he doesn't try. Perhaps one day he will be good enough. Enter Sam: who simply will not stand for that and will put to rest her dearest's many worries about the weight of his wanting and the joy of being able to provide someone with rest.

Holding on So Tightly words: 1,811 (lavbeebear)

Sam has been tearing herself up with worry, something inside her knowing that something is wrong with Evan. It's probably a childish assumption, even despite their recent reunion the distance that has stretched between them in the years since they were young cannot be ignored. So many things, said and ignored had been added to the turmoil in-between them and it's very possible that this isn't Evan running away from the world and condemning himself to isolation, perhaps he is simply removing her from his life. She still can't shake the worry though and when Evan's shadow appears in her room she knows her childlike and foolish instincts were correct.

a soft place to land words: 1,126 (infinitelactose)

She hummed to herself as she poured heaped teaspoons of instant coffee into their respective mugs. It struck him then, as he watched her, that she was beautiful, which he had always known, sure, but - well, it had been a fact of life, not something that he felt. Until recently. Sam was his friend, his best friend. He loved her desperately, more and more each day he had known her. She made him happy. Happier than anything. So why was he crying? * a little domestic fluff. evan just wants a soft place to land.

What Fits words: 2,059 (Observing_Stellar_Motion)

You want that Sam/Evan kiss? You're getting the Sam/Evan kiss! You're just also getting a fun conversation between them as a postmortem on the whole season and a debrief on the current state of reality in the world of MisMag. But also they kiss.

you're mine and that's it. forever. words: 12,809 (cigfigs)

Sam and Evan love each other. This is a fact of life as undeniable as the existence of humans. But what is more easily denied is how deeply the love runs between them, and what that could mean for these two. This is the story of how two incredibly worried and stubborn people learn to let themselves have what they so greatly want, and find exactly what they need in the meantime. Not without tripping over some cracks in the road on the way, though. Obviously.

You're Evan, all that other stuff doesn't even hold a candle. words: 1,302 (pengblackgirlorjustlexi)

Friday night cuddles and just because presents made and given with love.

dangle on the leash of your longing words: 2,457 (HeartHarps)

And in the throes of Sam holding and handling him with the drive of her mouth, he felt soft leather slip around his throat. The clasp deftly fastened. Fingers sneaking underneath to test the tightness. When Sam broke the kiss, some metal component jingled quietly. Evan’s eyes fluttered open, and as he stared up at Sam, registered the full feeling of the collar now around his neck.

Be my Evan Kelmp. words: 1,906 (pengblackgirlorjustlexi)

The moment we've been waiting for, more quiet evenings and subtle romance. We love to see it.

Gift exchange words: 739 (Inkwellsandfeathers)

Evan isn't sure what to get Sam as a gift for Christmas, Sam loves it regardless.

Updated to add (and disappointed in myself for losing):

Denial is a River words: 9,142(WIP) (godhashealed)

What if the pilot program met up again for a different reason and not to save magic????

*i've always loved fic rec posts bc they make it so much easier to emerse yourself in a pairing, so I decided to do one myself

**does not encompass all Sam/Evan fics currently available and posted. these are just some of my favourites

***these are arranged in no specific order

****I did not include any fics that are pilotcule or include other ships as this is an entirely Sam/Evan relationship focused list

*****if one of these is yours, and you'd rather stay off fic rec lists send me a message, and I'll remove it

[fretnotmyfriends]

I think I might be finally understanding what “we wanna strap a rocket to your back” with Jey meant.

(Long ass conspiracy theory below).

Given that Cody and Roman are gonna be out filming after Summer Slam, and the fact that both of them returned specifically to save and tag with Jey, I think this is a roundabout way of putting him over as the next face of the company for the near future.

Cody’s first run for champion saw him losing at WM39, a fight he probably should have won. It was a roadblock there to make him more sympathetic to the audience. I think Jey losing the WHC is supposed to be like that. (It was also for ratings and counter programming AEW, but shhh shhhhhhhh don’t worry about that). Pulling the rug out from under him right when he’s got it to increase audience sympathy.

On that, Jey’s run kinda felt like the Anti-Cody run. Cody held that shit for an entire year, and Super-Cody’d his way through enough matches that people really wanted his run to finish. There wasn’t a Super Jey, or a “Jey H*gan” or whatever- he was extremely beatable. And he held the belt for a super short time, when so many doors were left unopened. I think that makes the audience feel like we got robbed of that run and that it needed to be longer.

Plus giving him the WHC, even for a short while, ABSOLUTELY increased his popularity. He’s gotten a quite frankly ridiculous amount of things over with the audience since getting the belt (the fact that not only is “One More Time!” a regular chant for his theme song, but they also do the goddamn hand motion with him, is crazy). I think giving him the WHC in the first place was absolutely the right move, even if it was short lived.

Then we got Cody and Jey teaming up against Cena and the YouTuber. And as weird as the build to that match was, to WWE I’m sure putting him with a bunch of huge names was a sign they saw something for him in the future.

Now, if he really is teaming with Roman at Summer Slam, I see this as another way to get Jey over. Obviously the plans had to change with Seth’s sudden injury. But I think we still would’ve gotten Jey beefing with Seth’s faction either way. With Roman teaming with him, I’m pretty sure we’re gonna see OTC putting him over. On the mic, in the ring, he might even let him pick up the pin. Roman’s gonna be out soon, so you might as well.

So that rocket? I think this is a springboard to REALLY set Main Event Jey in motion. Put him with a bunch of dudes you already consider your “faces of the company” so that when those guys are gone and we need someone to be our top face in the immediate future, we have one ready to roll. It just makes sense to me.

Jey’s been on a losing streak lately (he’s gone on losing streaks before, to be fair). But we gotta remember that there’s other ways of putting people over other than winning. Jey and Gunther’s rematch put him over by still making it a competitive 1v1 despite his injuries. Jey vs Cody still put him over because of how good the match was and how much Cody needed to do to put him down. And they’re constantly putting him over on the mic.

So honestly? I think Jey’s gonna be alright. I think he’ll get his hands on a world championship again. Maybe it won’t be soon, but he will get one. I wouldn’t be surprised if we get Jey vs Sami for the WHC at Wrestlemania 42.

Let’s not sound the “Jey is buried” alarms just yet. Jey is getting protected in his matches, in one way or another. He’s in the main event picture, and I think he stays there. They’re gonna need a face of the company when Roman and Cody are out, so you might as well make it the guy the entire crowd is raving with. Bron Breakker will for sure become “the guy” at some point soon, but for the immediate future, Jey’s our best bet.

TLDR: mental illness got the better of me. Anyways give Carmelo Heyes screen time ‘k bye

[abbysimsfun]

Sims In Bloom: Generation 2 Pt. 85 (Searching for Rafa Bonilla)

cw: mentions underage trafficking, drug smuggling

Conrad looked for Rafa Bonilla between his regular cases at the precinct, following clues and booking suspects to keep his captain satisfied. A few months into his search he finally located one of Rafa's known associates, according to police reports.

He called Heather, tapping his fingers against the desk. "Hey, you've reached Heather's phone. It's either the middle of the night or I'm with a patient, so leave a message and I'll call you back."

"Hey, it's me. I was hoping to talk to you, but I've got to work a little late tonight. I'll make it up to you. I'm sorry. I love you."

He drove outside Brindleton Bay to greet the man who thought he had everyone fooled with his chess mentorship program. It would be less than thirty minutes before his students - mostly children - started showing up for their scheduled lesson in the park, so Conrad knew he had to work fast. He shuddered as he got closer to him, and not just because it was freezing outside.

"Jimmy Stefano," he said, dropping his voice an octave to sound serious.

"Not lately," mused the man with a laugh. "Who's asking?" He turned to face the voice who knew his old identity. "You? They said you were a cop now. No surprise they never let you work our cases."

Conrad knew they had no time for small talk and he whipped out his cuffs. "You're under arrest for aiding and abetting a known fugitive."

"You can't be serious! Who?"

"Rafael Bonilla."

Jimmy's face went white, but he stopped resisting. As Conrad cuffed him, he asked, "Are you taking me in to help San Myshuno PD, or did she call you?"

Conrad scoffed. "She who?"

Jimmy laughed. "She told both of us sweet nothings, old friend. You were just dumb enough to believe them."

"Shut up and get in the cruiser."

Back at the station, Jimmy looked around the interrogation room in his orange jumpsuit once Conrad booked him. "Aren't you going to need the cameras on to record your attempt at my confession?"

"I want you to speak freely, Stefano. Tell me everything you know."

Jimmy eyed him suspiciously. "You're not working with San Myshuno PD at all, are you."

"I didn't stage an elaborate arrest just to scare you. I still plan to file a report after you and I catch up. Just talk."

"She really did get to you. Are you trying to let her ruin your life again?"

"Where the hell is Rafa?"

"I don't know. I haven't seen him in two years, when the last job we did together went bad. I assumed his sister told him to run since the charges he's facing are so serious."

"She doesn't know where he is."

"I'm sure she told you that. Did she tell you she was done with Los Tigres, too?"

Conrad flinched, and Jimmy raised an eyebrow.

"I'm happy with my chess students, but I can't get out now. When you walked, I should've joined you, but I didn't have your father's connections at the police station to keep me out of jail."

"I wasn't even there that night, but you gave them my name."

"Yeah, I did, because you walked before you even got started. Los Tigres only let you live because you became a cop and they didn't need the heat. I don't know what she told you, but if you think Ximena's turned over a new leaf and is done smuggling for the cartel, you're an idiot. She just uses new aliases these days."

Conrad breathed in through his nose. "If I turn the cameras on, will you avoid mentioning our history while you tell me what Ximena's still doing with the cartel?"

"What's in it for me, Sargent?"

"If it comes to it and you're telling the truth, I only want Ximena. As long as Los Tigres doesn't get caught up in anything at the Brindleton docks, I've got no reason to open up a window to the past. You should think about moving on, too. Turn that chess mentorship program into more than just a front."

Jimmy rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah. Some of us are lifers, you know."

Conrad hit record while Jimmy told him everything he knew about Ximena's past - how she escaped being trafficked in her teens by offering to run drugs for Los Tigres de Selva, working her way up to running an entire operation moving drugs from Selvadorada to San Myshuno, through Britechester, and back again. Her associates called her The Chameleon because of how often she changed her hair.

She'd been arrested but never did hard time, with those who worked under her often taking the fall, instead - like Jimmy Stefano. Twice. Ximena kept herself just clean enough to avoid prison, and dragged her brother into the same life. "Rafa and I used to pose as Simlandian military to run product for his sister, but he never got caught for that," Jimmy said.

"When was the last time you worked for her?"

"Four months ago."

Conrad led him through several questions, showing copies of Ximena's old police reports. When they'd finished, he released Jimmy Stefano. It didn't satisfy him to send a known smuggler back to the streets, but he'd gained some incriminating evidence against Ximena, at the very least. He was beginning to think he might need it, eventually.

He headed home in darkness, and his mind raced with possibilities. Could Ximena's activities have led directly to her brother's disappearance? Who were her enemies these days?

He tried to call her, against his better judgment, but she didn't pick up her phone. He hung up before the voicemail kicked in.

When he walked in the door, he found six-year-old Ash on the floor, working on a castle diorama for extra credit at school. He knelt down to help him without even changing out of his work clothes. "Can you help me with the small pieces? Mommy won't let me use better scissors, but my kid scissors barely cut anything!"

He grinned. Grateful for the distraction, Conrad pulled out an instruction booklet tucked under the edge of the box. "Of course. What did you need me to cut?"

"Just these windows," he said. "They're too small. And can you measure to make sure my towers are big enough? I want the biggest towers of the whole class! Like the Spire Tower!"

"Tallest towers, can do. Hey, did you want to use this lump of clay for anything?" (Finally, the clay comes out at a sensible moment!!)

"Yeah! Moat mud! And we could use real water!"

"Your mom won't be very happy if we make real mud in the house, buddy."

Heather walked into the room then, kneeling down next to them to play with Gord. "Please don't make real mud. Why don't you use the clay to mould a base for the castle?"

"Good idea, Mommy! Can we have pancakes for dinner tomorrow night? I've been thinking about pancakes all day!"

"I can make you pancakes for dinner, but your mom and I won't be here to eat them with you," said Conrad. "Tomorrow night, I'm taking your mom on a date."

"What's a date?"

"It's when people who like each other hang out," Heather said.

Ash's eyes grew wide. "Is there kissing?"

Conrad grinned. "There might be. What do you know about kissing?"

He paused. "Nothing, I guess. Scotti Holiday says it's like eating faces, but why would people who like each other eat their faces?"

Heather laughed. "Don't worry, Conrad's not going to eat my face. Are you almost finished with your diorama for the night? It's getting late and you should get to bed soon."

"Just a little while longer, Mommy. Please! I'm not tired and I'm almost done!"

When he and Conrad had finished, they displayed the excellent diorama on a kitchen countertop until Ash could take it to school in the morning. Before he went to bed, Conrad went upstairs to check on his sleeping baby girl.

Intuitive to his human's growing stress level, no matter how well he hid it from everyone else, Gord followed him. ->

<- Previous Chapter | Gen 2 Start | Gen 1 Summary | Gen 1 Start

[usafphantom2]

PARIS AIRSHOW 1989~ Russian pilots in American pilots get together for a drink.

SR pilot Capt. Steve “Griz” Grzebiniak, tells his story in Richard H. Graham’s book SR-71 Revealed The Inside Story.

@Jim Greenwood @ Steve Grzebiniak

‘Jim [ Maj. Jim Greenwood, his RSO] and I were TDY to Det in June 4 in June of 1989. The Det was tasked to send an SR-71 to the Paris Air Show. Lieutenant Colonel Tom Henichek was the Det 4 Commander at the time and became the Air Show deployment commander.

‘We flew a brief arrival show, landing in showery weather at Le Bourget airport for four days of static display. The big attraction at the `89 Paris Show was to be the unveiling of the Soviet SU-27 Flanker, for the first time on western soil. The SU-27 was an impressive example of the cutting edge of Eastern Bloc air superiority. It was a large fighter, with massive engines and silenced the crowds daily with its aerial demonstration.

Victor Pugachev, the head test pilot for Sukhoi aircraft in the Soviet Union, and the inventor of the unbelievable “Cobra Maneuver” in which the fighter would make a slow speed, high angle pass at low altitude, then snatch its nose back beyond the vertical, an recover with AB’s blazing, was there, along with an elite cadre of other Soviet pilots.

However, the American SR-71 was attracting more attention than the Soviets airplane .

The SR 71 pilots decided to have a cordial drink with their enemies the Soviet Union pilots. But only under the condition that it remained secret.

Jim and I decided we had to meet these pilots in a less formal manner. After all, they were flying some of the same aircraft, and indeed could have been the same pilots who regularly attempted high altitude intercepts against us in the Barents Sea! The day prior to our departure, after the final aerial demonstration of the afternoon, a note was passed to one of the Russian pilots reading, “Meet us at the base of the tower for a drink—the US pilots.”

They were acting very proper and cordial as Victor announced that they were ready to receive the “press” now. I told him there was, “no press, no cameras, no recorders, nobody knows we’re here Vic!” At that announcement, the room erupted with revelry! Victor was no longer the “mouth piece” for the group. Everyone was eager to learn more about their “comrades” from across the ocean. Victor said to me,

‘Steve, the next time you are spying on us in the Barents Sea, please come up on my radio frequency so we can say hello.” I jokingly said,

“Vic, I’ll be glad to do that, but if my voice sounds clear, it’s not because we are very near your border in the Barents Sea, I’m really far away on a training mission, but our radios are very powerful.”

We all had a good laugh, realizing that in a week, we would indeed be over the Barents, and we would see those tell-tale contrails of Soviet interceptors, hopelessly fluttering out of airspeed and ideas, far below us.

‘The spontaneous party lasted about an hour. We signed our bottle of Tequila, and our guests signed an unopened bottle of vodka, and we exchanged them as gifts. The following day, Jim and I departed Le Bouget with a series of afterburner passes. Our departure was to be the last aerial demonstration that day, immediately following the Soviets regular daily flying demo.

All Soviet flying demos were mysteriously canceled that day. Could it have been the Tequila, or did they all want to be in place to see the HABU thunder past the crowd and disappear out of sight?

After returning to the Det, we placed the signed bottle of Russian vodka in a small glass case with a simple plaque reading, `GLASTNOST, Paris, ’89.’

This was the last time the SR 71 would appear that the Paris airshow as the Air Force canceled the program .

Linda Sheffield

@Habubrats71 via X

[defectivevillain]

this winding labyrinth, chapter 13

chapter thirteen: confrontation

pairing: Hannibal Lecter/Reader (reader's race & gender are ambiguous; no physical descriptors or pronouns are used)

summary:

You wish you never met Hannibal Lecter. But you yearn for his presence. You want to forget him. But he never truly leaves your thoughts. Now, you’re left to pick up the pieces of a broken design. A battle of instinct rages on in your mind—one of bittersweet relief and cloying grief, fearless resolve and poignant regret; a clashing between affection and antipathy, pride and pain. What will win, in the end? Only time will tell.

this is chapter 13, act 2 of this broken design. if you haven't read act 1 or chapters 1-12, this won't make too much sense.

ao3 version | Spotify playlist

author's notes: this is a bit of a shorter chapter (more dialogue heavy) but i still think you’ll enjoy 😏

A few notes before that, though. First, we’re nearing the end! Woop woop! I plan to write a few more chapters (2+) and two endings. Second, on that note, a friendly reminder that this story will not have nsfw. I think I put that in the notes of this fic over on AO3, but not over here... Oops.

Anyways, on to our regularly scheduled programming! Typical warnings apply.

It’s a miracle you survived the Red Dragon. At least, that’s what everyone’s saying. There are nearly countless theories going around the FBI now, ranging from you simply being lucky to the killer second-guessing himself. As time passes, the rumors only grow more ludicrous—and you’re almost happy when you can finally return to work and dispel them once and for all. You return to holding occasional guest lectures in recruit classrooms (in the advent of your frequent fieldwork, you had fallen away from regular instruction). Things slowly return back to normal, to your relief. 

Unsurprisingly, it doesn’t take Jack Crawford long to find you upon your return. The two of you had kept somewhat regular communication throughout your hospitalization, with Jack calling you from Quantico. It’s nice to see him in-person again. He looks composed and professional as always, wearing his typical suit and a focused expression on his face as he stands in the doorway of your office. “Agent,” he nods, moving to take a seat across from you. “It’s good to see you.”

“Thanks,” you say, a tired smile rising on your lips. “It’s good to be back.”

Jack nods in acknowledgement, before continuing to speak. The two of you have never been much for pleasantries, so it’s no surprise that he is eager to move things along. “Now, on to business…” he trails off. Then an interesting, uncharacteristic expression falls onto his face. It’s hesitation, you realize. 

“What is it?” you hear yourself ask. Jack rarely ever hesitates. Apprehension is not in his vocabulary. 

He takes a slow breath. “Since your hospitalization, Hannibal has reportedly been acting a bit… difficult,” Jack says carefully. There’s something he’s not telling you. He’s not giving you all the details. But why? Jack and you have always been honest with one another, even when (especially when) it concerns your work. It’s strange, and a bit unsettling, to see your boss being so cautious with his words.

“Difficult?” you question, after a tense silence descends across your office. You cross one leg over the other and tap your fingers against the arm of your chair, feeling restless all of a sudden. 

A pause. “He has been asking for you,” Jack then confesses. Something lurches in your stomach. “I refused to pass along information, which supposedly distressed him.” That doesn’t seem right. Hannibal isn’t distressed by anything—least of all your momentary absence.  

Your thoughts must show on your face, because Jack nods. “You know I’m not fond of this arrangement with Lecter,” he sighs. Yet he continues. “But it may benefit us.” His ambiguity isn’t giving you any confidence. 

“What are you suggesting?” you ask. You fear you already know the answer. 

“I’m suggesting we visit him,” Jack answers, confirming your suspicions. “Wear something that conceals those bruises on your neck. It may do us well for him to see you in good health,” he advises, a brief flicker of frustration passing across his face as he glances at the marks the killer left behind. You self-consciously grab at your collar, despite knowing it’s a futile effort. 

“We should tell him about the interaction between you and the Dragon,” Jack muses. “Lecter values knowledge above little else. It is quite likely that he has been unsettled by your unexplained absence.”

You mull over that statement for longer than you should. “Hannibal doesn’t get unsettled,” you then frown. 

“Perhaps not in front of you,” Jack says, an echo of a wry smile on his lips. There’s that feeling again—the sense that he knows something you don't. “But I’ve been told his behavior was rather ‘uncharacteristic.’”

“I will be accompanying you, of course,” Jack continues, after you can’t seem to find the words to say. “The doctors would not be happy with me, if I were to let you strain your voice too much. All I ask is that you remain at my side. I can handle the talking.” You blink at him in surprise, before a strange sense of gratitude washes over him. He’s not sending you by yourself. You will not have to face him alone. 

There’s a question that’s been lingering on your tongue for minutes now. Jack looks at you expectantly, waiting for you to voice your concerns. “Do you think he knows anything else?” you ask halfheartedly. You suspect Hannibal may grow uncooperative soon, if he hasn’t already. Besides, there’s a limit to his knowledge—what with his confinement. 

“Hannibal may very well be reaching the end of his utility,” Jack admits. You nod, trying to fight off the stewing feeling in your chest that’s been accumulating since the beginning of the conversation. “We will have to see.” He leaves you with that ominous remark, promising to return soon upon securing visiting hours. 

The drive to Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane is far quicker than you’d like it to be. 90 minutes pass in what feels like a blink of an eye. And of course, the sight of the building is enough to bring back all the negative thoughts you’ve been suppressing. In light of Frederick Chilton’s death, the building has fallen under new administration. The security detail has grown a bit lax, which you pretend not to notice to save yourself stress. Even the building itself looks a bit… grimier than normal. Jack and you don’t end up meeting the person who took on Chilton’s role, instead being swiped in at the security desk and then taken through the halls immediately. 

Jack leads the way and you follow after him like a shadow. You’d like to think that you can go relatively unnoticed, but the thought is exceedingly unrealistic. You can only hope Hannibal has miraculously lost interest. Upon entering the space, you find the killer in question sitting at his writing desk, reading a book. Jack closes the door after you enter, impatiently staring at the man until he decides to break the silence. “Hannibal.” 

Hannibal blinks and looks up, seeming surprised. “Ah, Jack,” he says. “I must admit, I wasn’t expecting you. It’s been some time.” He places his book down and gets to his feet, standing across from Jack. 

“I suppose it has been,” Jack responds amicably. In a less stressful situation, you’d be amused at how unenthusiastic he sounds. But you can’t quite get yourself to forget your anxiety. It’s not just your imagination: the air is incredibly tense, almost charged. 

It is only inevitable that Hannibal’s gaze drifts to you. You’ve shoved your hands in your pockets, a false notion of security beneath these blinding fluorescent lights. You’re not sure how long you stand there, a mere subject to Hannibal’s fervent attention, before he finally speaks. “It is nice to see you.” Hannibal is looking at you when he speaks. You get the inexplicable urge to smoke again, despite quitting months ago. It must be the uneasiness brewing in your chest. 

“You too.” You can’t summon more than a tired quirk to the edge of your lips and a brief nod. 

He regards you for a moment, a thin but knowing smile on his face. “You are unusually quiet today.” How he’s able to conclude that based on one sentence is beyond you.

“Apologies,” you murmur. The sentiment feels slimy and wrong on your lips. Your voice is audibly raspy and you can virtually see Hannibal digesting that information, puzzling it out in his mind. He needs more. 

You helplessly glance at Jack, who sighs. “Yes, well,” Jack breaks off, seemingly struggling to find the right words. “There was an unforeseen complication.”

“Oh?” Despite his attentive response, Hannibal’s eyes still haven’t left your face. From there, Jack recounts your conversation to him. Hannibal nods along during the appropriate moments, but it almost seems as if he isn’t paying attention. He’s practically tearing you apart with his eyes—his gaze extremely scrutinizing. You just barely manage to keep still, instead of fidgeting restlessly. “We decided it would be worthwhile to see the painting in-person—to meet with someone and discern its significance,” Jack finishes. 

“The Brooklyn Museum,” Hannibal recalls. Jack nods, not appearing surprised that Hannibal knew where the painting was being kept. Then his gaze slides to you. “What delayed your return?”

“We encountered some unexpected opposition,” Jack answers. It’s vague, but it answers the question nonetheless. 

“We?” Hannibal hums lightly. “Forgive the discourtesy, but you seem unscathed, Jack.”

A tick in Jack’s jaw is the only visible sign of his irritation. Hannibal should know that Jack’s position requires him to be at headquarters virtually every day. It is exceedingly rare for him to leave the office, since he supervises the entire Behavioral Analysis Unit in addition to many other recruits. You struggle to fight off a frown at Hannibal’s unusually acerbic remark. He almost seems angry. The source of that anger is exceedingly unclear. 

You’re ready to diffuse the tension by giving him an explanation, until you find Jack firmly shaking his head at you. You frown. Wasn’t that the entire point of this excursion—to taunt Hannibal with the information you gained and see if he revealed anything else in its wake? Why is Jack changing his mind now? 

Hannibal does look rather impatient and irritated. This may be the first time you’ve seen his emotions written so plainly across his face. He’s staring at you hard enough to melt your skin off. 

“If you wish to waste time, I can make an educated guess,” Hannibal offers. His eyes are dark, his smile is overwhelmingly fake, and there’s a noticeable venom to his voice. Jack stiffens at your side, before taking a slow breath. It’s clear he’s accepted the futility of the situation. You can’t waltz into a lions’ den with fresh prey, only to deny them the meal. 

“Very well,” Jack says. He turns to look at you; you’re not sure what your expression is, but it must betray some of your confusion, because Jack’s lips only fall into a tighter line. Is there something he’s not telling you, here? “We—or, more accurately, my agent here—came across the killer.”

Hannibal is silent. He’s waiting for more detail. Jack won’t give it to him. You stifle a sigh. “He consumed the painting, like you said he would,” you add. 

“Ah,” Hannibal says. He doesn’t seem particularly surprised, nor does he seem satisfied by your answer. “I’m afraid that doesn’t explain your silence, dear.” The pet name is an unwelcome jolt in your chest, even when used sarcastically. Jack’s expression darkens as he glares at Hannibal. Hannibal doesn’t care to notice. It’s as if the two of you are the only ones in the room. 

“And I can’t help but notice you’ve fastened the top button of your shirt today,” Hannibal continues. It’s a casual comment, nothing more than a harmless observation. Or, at least, it would be—if you weren’t hiding your wounds from the Red Dragon. “A rather uncharacteristic choice for you. I’m curious as to why you would make that decision.” 

You want to keep quiet, knowing anything you say will betray you. But Hannibal’s gaze is insistent and expectant. There’s an ugly feeling rolling through your body. Every fiber of your being is telling you to run, to escape this trap he’s sprung. 

“Agent—” Jack warns you, suddenly breaking his static posture and turning to look at you. There’s a wary expression on his face and it’s clear he doesn’t want you to reveal anything more. But it’s too late. As if possessed by a foreign urge, your hand has already met the edge of your collar. You’re forced to watch as you pull the material down from your neck, wincing as the effort drags the fabric along your still-healing wound. If Hannibal’s attention was intense before, it’s utterly ravenous now. You’re not sure why you’re so compelled to tell him the truth. All you know is the rapid drumming of your heart in your chest, pushing you to take action. 

You’re sure the achingly bright fluorescent lighting does nothing to aid the yellow-brown bruises scattered across your throat. Hannibal’s eyes trace the marks with clinical scrutiny; your heart steadily pounds in your chest as he resumes his silent investigation. For a while, there is only quiet as he examines you. The glass wall between you is rendered obsolete. You can feel the weight of his gaze over the dull headache you’ve been sporting; in the goosebumps along your skin; and across your shoulders. 

When Hannibal finally tears his eyes away, you’re fooled into thinking his inspection is over. But somehow, he seems to know you hid the bite mark from him. “There is more,” he states with deceptive composure. There is nothing composed about the look in his eyes or the tension firmly pulling his shoulders. Hannibal is standing closer now, steadily approaching and rendering the barrier between you entirely inconsequential. “At the edge of your neck.”

Jack seems to feel just as overwhelmed and helpless as you do. Because although he looks at you and fiercely shakes his head, there’s a perplexed fear glimmering in his eyes. Both of you are unsure about this course of action—and about Hannibal’s uncharacteristic mood swing. 

“Show me,” Hannibal demands. There is no politeness in his voice. There is no pretense written across his face. This is not a request—this is a demand, an order. 

You obey and tug the material over with a shaking hand, revealing the base of your neck and the edge of your shoulder. His eyes leave no stone unturned, as he follows the teeth marks scattered across your collarbone and crawling up your shoulder. Otherwise, Hannibal doesn’t verbally react: he is frighteningly silent. You can’t even hear him breathe. He never displays his emotions—you know that. And yet, there is no sign of his characteristic restraint now. There is only violence in the lines of his clenched fists; anger in the firm pull of his lips; tension in the furrow of his brows; and something far darker glittering in his eyes. 

You lock eyes with Hannibal Lecter and, for the first time in several months, you remember to be afraid of him. His sudden presence at the very edge of the glass is all you need to take a cautious step backwards and enforce the distance between the two of you. And he latches onto that fear with frightening speed. It almost feels as if the walls around you are caving in; in the blink of an eye, you can see Hannibal swiftly stepping out of his transparent prison and reaching out towards you—

Jack’s hand on your shoulder brings you back to reality. You just vaguely hear him say something to Hannibal, before whispering to you as he leads you out of the space. He’s speaking, but you haven’t the faintest idea what he’s saying.  You don’t have the energy or wherewithal to resist, instead remaining pliant in his grip as he ushers you through the hall. You expect Hannibal’s voice to travel across the hall, but he remains silent. And your heart begins to calm, with the distance you gain on him. 

A stiff breeze greets you upon exiting the building. Jack takes you to the car, and the two of you drive back to headquarters in complete silence. It isn’t until you arrive at the headquarters parking lot under the cover of night that Jack sighs, before rounding the car and coming to a stop near you. You can hardly understand what’s happening, forced to watch in confusion as he brings a hand to rest on your uninjured shoulder. There’s a quiet fury in his eyes—not unlike Hannibal’s rage. You feel slightly sickened and ashamed that you’re the cause of this emotion, that your weakness is provoking such a reaction from those around you. 

Jack seems about ready to pull you into a reassuring hug, but he stops himself. You’re both brutally aware of your roles as employer and employee, mentor and mentee. Jack looks torn, his eyes searching your face as if waiting for you to give him a clue as to how you’re feeling. His right hand falls to his pocket, a restless tell that you almost never see from him.

“This won’t happen again.” The stormy expression on his face suggests that Jack will ensure it. Maybe the sincerity in his eyes should alarm you… but you only feel grateful. You nod jerkily, pushing your tears back and swallowing past the burning feeling in your throat. It’s the best the two of you can do. Neither of you can promise a happy ending, but you can strive to do better in the future. 

Then Jack nods and the moment is mercifully terminated. He glances up at the flickering streetlight across the lot and seems to come to a decision. “I’ll take you home,” he says. You try to object, but your protests fall on unwilling ears. You soon find yourself in Jack’s car once more, relegated to that tense silence once more. You’ll leave him with a word of gratitude as you exit the car, before heading up to your front door as your fingers restlessly trace the outline of your key. You’ll spend the rest of the night subconsciously tracing the marks along your throat, remembering how they provoked such a visceral reaction in Hannibal. It will be hard to sleep that night, as you toss and turn under the covers with an unfounded conviction that you’re being stifled and subdued. 

Meanwhile, Jack will remain parked in your driveway until he’s certain you’ve gotten inside safely. Then he’ll wait until he’s down the street to clench the steering wheel in a tight-knuckled grip that betrays his frustration.

next chapter

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[houseofwolves-v1]

Hi friends, I finally have consistent reliable cell service again for the first time since Friday. I’m so incredibly thankful that my family and friends are all safe and experiencing only minimal disruption to our homes and living situations in the wake of Hurricane Helene, especially since the same cannot be said for the majority of our area.

I’m going to be compiling a list of local nonprofits and mutual aid funds in Western North Carolina that are helping with disaster relief that are in need of donations and support (I’ll continue editing this post to add more as I find them)

My family and I are doing what we can to help out since we have the ability to do so, but resources are scarce here right now and outside help is greatly appreciated. That being said, please please please DO NOT physically come and try to offer volunteer aid! There are coordinated groups that are making supply runs back and forth, and we need to make sure roads are kept as clear as possible so that emergency and utility workers are able to do their jobs. The majority of the area is still without power and/or water and there are enough of us in stable situations who can volunteer where it’s needed without bringing in people who will be unnecessarily using precious resources.

*EDIT: most places have received such an influx in donations they’re requesting a halt on physical items so that they have time to distribute everything, so monetary donations to purchase bigger ticket items (generators and other such things) are now the priority!* Items needed are non perishable food, bottled water, trash bags, blankets, first aid supplies, pads and tampons, diapers, formula, hand sanitizer, wet wipes, toilet paper, paper towels, bleach, shovels, gloves, coolers, propane, camp stoves, flashlights, and batteries. There are plenty of groups outside the area that are coordinating with groups here to bring those supplies up, so locating someone who is doing that to donate those supplies to is key if you’re wanting to offer a physical donation rather than monetary.

Buncombe County:

•Blue Ridge Public Radio has been an incredible source of information and provides regular updates, both on air at 88.1 if you’re local, and on their instagram page @/blueridgepublicradio (this one is a resource suggestion rather than a donation suggestion)

•BeLoved Asheville- local nonprofit working to distribute supplies and coordinate clean up efforts, Venmo: @/BeLoved-Asheville, PayPal: @/belovedasheville

•Babies Need Bottoms- local nonprofit distributing wipes and diapers, based in Asheville but serves all of Western NC normally, so hopefully they’ll be able to start expanding where they’re offering supplies to soon, Link to Donate: https://babiesneedbottoms.org/donate/

•Pansy Collective- mutual aid collective, also Asheville based but serving the Western NC area, using donations for both general supplies and the specific needs of individuals, Venmo and CashApp: @/pansycollective

•Asheville Survival Program- mutual aid collective, using donations for both general supplies and the specific needs of individuals, Venmo: @/AppMedSolid, CashApp: $streetsidehelene

•Manna Food Bank- private nonprofit distributing food, they serve all of Western NC but just had their headquarters severely damaged by flooding (although they have still been out regularly distributing food the past few days), Link to Donate: https://donate.mannafoodbank.org

•Brother Wolf Animal Rescue- local animal shelter that is urgently seeking foster homes for pets if you’re in the area, and also seeking monetary donations as their facility was severely damaged by flooding, Link to Donate: https://secure.qgiv.com/for/rebuildbw

Madison County:

•Community Housing Coalition- local nonprofit providing home repairs to low income residents, Link to Donate: https://chcmadisoncountync.org/donate/

•Rural Organizing and Resilience (also known as ROAR WNC)- mutual aid effort working to get supplies out to people who can’t access shelters and food distribution sites, Link to Donate: https://ruralorganizing.wordpress.com/donate/?fbclid=PAZXh0bgNhZW0CMTEAAaYcowwFWXMZ2KX9E5soM2mg1dXfHbe3s8j1_S2D5HAuPuyYv3JtPXzeEDc_aem_rI_E3daUQlumDDLbIEn22g

•Holler Harm Reduction- mutual aid collective, working with ROAR to help distribute supplies, Link to Donate: https://www.hollerharmreduction.org/get-involved

Watauga County:

•@/sweetleaf161 on instagram- regularly sharing mutual aid links for Boone and surrounding areas

•Watauga Humane Society- working to provide pet food to locals, and offering available facility space for those needing a safe space for their pet to temporarily stay during this time, Link to Donate: https://wataugahumane.org/donate/doogies_hope

•F.A.R.M. Cafe- local nonprofit providing free or pay what you can meals, Link to Donate: https://farmcafe.org/donate

•Hunger and Health Coalition- local nonprofit distributing food and medications, based in Boone but serving the whole High Country area, Link to Donate: https://secure.qgiv.com/for/thehungerandhealthcoalition

[weirdly-specific-but-ok]

the baftas: my eyes need bleach after the livestream chat.

I SAID I WOULD COME TO TUMBLR AND SLUT-SHAME ALL OF YOU, AND YOU BET YOUR GODDAMN BILDADDY I'M HERE TO DO IT. First, a huge thank you to @good-usernames-were-taken, Valerie, for enabling this entire chaos and streaming it. And of course to Disappointment the Main Maggot.

Second, as per requests from you maggots, I have to give an honourary mention to the tragic lack of an emotional support gaseous orange, the late half-eaten packet of Lays on my desk, and my nearly empty can of Monster energy. Idk either, you asked for the mentions you got them.

Without further ado, presenting the BAFTA Awards 2024:

I am busy drawing out the neckline stitches of Crowley's wedding dress, when I am reminded of the stream and I crash into it midway. Little do I know what I am getting into.

Everyone is here for David Tennant. No one is here for the actual awards. This is made very clear very quickly.

KNEES. JUST KNEES. ALL EVERYONE TALKS ABOUT, THROUGHOUT THE STREAM, IS DAVID TENNANT'S KNEES. ARE YOU ALL OKAY WHAT THE FRESH HELL.

For context, David is in a kilt for the first half. I finally see why my relatives disapprove of skirts above knee-length. I never knew humanity's unholy worship of knees till I came here.

SOMEONE ASKS IF DAVID HAS TANNED HIS KNEES. MAGGOTS. PLEASE.

We interrupt our regular scheduled program of David knees to have an intense discussion about British versus French humour, and the misgendering of croissants.

RDJ wins an award and calls his wife his Alpha and Omega.

We're back to the knees. I can't handle how slutty David's knees are, says a worthy maggot.

This goes into a discussion about tickets for David's Macbeth, because, you guessed it, the kilt and the knees.

A lot of gorgeous and talented women in the BAFTAs tonight. I am floored.

I am not allowed to dwell in my awe because the chat is not a place of the lord. Curtain calls of Macbeth are discussed with unnecessary lasciviousness.

Thankfully, in the midst of this, I get a great Zodiac pattern reference for Crowley's wedding dress cummerbund. I was going to have to research the night sky for star charts but this is better.

People show their beautiful brainrot-induced Doc Marten purchases.

The knee thirst has moved into X-rated territory. I am terrified.

A song is sung in memory of film industry people who passed away this year, and people are sad about Dumbledore but at the same time are imagining Aziraphale and Crowley dancing to the song. The brainrot is real.

I accidentally spoil Saltburn's freakshow for someone. When I ask how I can make up for it, they say something about GOAD. I'm alarmed. Is that an OnlyFans, I ask. It's Good Omens After Dark, the chat answers. Is THAT an OnlyFans, I ask. Close enough, the chat says.

David has now changed outfits to a suit, which finally makes people pay attention to the BAFTAs, if only to alternatively thirst over the suit and bemoan the loss of knees.

Things, uh, happen, which I will have to include as quotes in another post. Cheers, @thearoacemess and @vitrilol.

Barty Crouch Jr is debated about as the Wolfstar child. Bratty Crouch Jr is said to be Crowley.

I obtain a banana, which I associate with blowjobs.

@thearoacemess talks about someone deepthroating a seven-inch banana without a hitch.

The stream does a flashback to the kilt time. It is a mistake. @queermarzipan barrels in and is being too slutty about the knees.

I tell them they need jesus, and they yell about how they've gone to mass twice today and they're an atheist.

Thankfully, @vitrilol starts chanting about the glory of Ireland. The only thing that will distract Marzipan from David Tennant is Ireland.

He proceeds to start screech-singing in all caps.

🎵IRELAND IIIRELAND TOGETHER STANDING TALLLL.🎵

The BAFTAs end. People are still thirsting over David Tennant.

🎵I KNOW YOU'RE MISSING HOME IT'S SO LONG SINCE YOU'VE BEEN🎵

Uh, more dubious things about David, suits and the absence of said suits are discussed. I'm trying my damndest not to notice.

🎵AND THE LIFE YOU HAD IN DUBLIN NOW AIN'T NOTHIN BUT A DREAM🎵

There is accidental Mascot lore: I am apparently from a different timeline (I mixed up timeline and timezone) and that's how Apollo deposited me in an illegal sushi restaurant where I became Neil Gaiman and Michael Sheen's intellectual child.

I am compared to a cat.

TOM HIDDLESTON AND DAVID TENNANT WERE IN THE STAGED-LIKE THING IN THE BEGINNING AHAHAHAHAH LOKI AND CROWLEY MY TWO CELESTIAL GENDERFLUID ICONS.

OKAY so I will end the summary here and make a list of out of context quotes in a new post. Because. Boy oh boy. That deserves its own post.

[annasghosts]

April 19th 20th and 21st for @jilymicrofics with the prompts thinking, of and wouldn’t

“You should turn slightly to the side. There, in this light you don’t look so ghastly pale.”

Lily opens her mouth, a retort already on the tip of her tongue, but Rita turns around, facing the camera with a huge, fake smile. “Good evening and welcome back to the Bachelorette! We have quite the special treat this season..” After a pregnant pause the camera pans over to Lily and she smiles, hoping she looks genuinely happy and not regretting all the life choices that led to this moment. “Meet Lily Evans, twenty six and founder of her own company! Isn’t is right, Lily?”

“Quite right, Rita. Evans’ Solutions is my pride and joy and quite successful.” There it is, the little white lie her publicist suggested. She wishes Evans’ Solutions was successful, but her small company has been struggling against bigger and wealthier competitors for a while now and she simply doesn’t have the money to invest in the kind of publicity that would give her the spotlight she needs, which is why she accepted to be on a television show she and Marlene mock on regular basis. Any publicity is good publicity, or so she hopes.

“So successful at work and so unlucky in love.” Rita sighs dramatically. “Do you think spending your days in the lab makes it hard to find a boyfriend?”

Lily tries to keep the smile on her face, but she really, really can’t stand the woman. “To tell you the truth, I recently ended a long term relationship and it has been hard to trust someone again. I’m hoping with the help of the public I might meet someone special.”

Her comment gets the appropriate swoon from the crowd present and Lily thinks she detected the slightest glint of approval in Rita’s eyes. “Well, we certainly tried to select a good number of candidates. Let’s see who we have first!”

Despite herself and the fact that she has no intention of really dating someone she met on television, Lily leans forward, watching as a video starts playing.

A young man, flaming ginger hair and lots of freckles grins at her, snug shirt showing off his muscles. “My name is Gideon Prewitt, I work for the department of magic transportation and hope to sweep you off your feet!” He winks and despite the line making her cringe, she finds herself thinking she wouldn’t mind knowing him better.

“A strong start! What do you think, Lily?”

“I agree Rita, I must say you know what you are doing.”

“And the best is yet to come!” Lily doesn’t react, hoping this won’t end like the previous season when during the finale Rita revealed one of the top contestants was the Bachelorette’s first cousin. “Let’s see who we have next!”

“Hi! I’m James Potter.” The bloke on the screen looks like he just rolled out of bed, unruly hair sticking in every direction. “I dunno what I’m doing here, but I think it might be fun. Alright, so I’m a Chaser for the Falcons and I think I’m supposed to say something about chasing you, but I’d rather not.”

Lily stifles a laugh, while Rita’s smile freezes and someone off screen whispers something to the bloke, making him laugh. She can’t help but notice that he has a great laugh, the amusement bringing out the warmth in his hazel eyes. Damn, maybe she’ll really be forced to admit this program isn’t complete garbage after all. “Blimey no, why would I be interested in Potion making?” Or maybe not.

“Well,” Rita says, turning to Lily, smug smile back in place. “Who doesn’t love a challenge?” She doesn’t reply and Rita adjusts her glasses, signalling they are ready for the next video. “And we still have a few surprises up our sleeve!”

[drdemonprince]

Hi! I remember you talking about doing shadow work (in a reply to an ask, I think); do you have any advice on how to start? Especially for someone who who has a really hard time with consistency/habits? Thanks!

For me it is not an intentional practice separate from my regular life, it is an orientation toward my own most negative thoughts/impulses/reactions. I do not believe that any thought is harmful or morally wrong to have, and so when I experience a thought that is violent, cruel, bitter, pathetic, prejudicial, short-tempered, jealous, whatever else, I accept it, and study it with curiosity rather than self-condemnation.

I notice patterns over time in what I am particularly un-evolved and unenlightened about. What hang ups do I have? What weird bullshit respectability politics or traditional gender norms do I still apply to myself or to others? Who do I fuckin hate and why?

Which of these things can I just kind of shrug at and accept as a feature of my programming and which ones do I see seriously holding back my life? That's probably the hardest part of shadow work for me. I'm very aware of a lot of my flaws and the things i'm irrationally emotionally reactive to and defensive about, but I get attached to my way of seeing things. It can be scary to become more open-minded and uncertain and less spiky. And some things just aren't easy to change even if I want them to. Part of shadow work means allowing oneself to be in an unfinished state.

Another part of it for me is accepting with a dark kind of gratitude that the world would be a pretty terrible place if everyone was like me. There is so much about humanity that I do not understand. I could never be a surgeon. I could never be a good parent. I could never be a social worker. There is so much I am so bad at. Maybe this is the Narcissism and Lack of Empathy talking, but I've had to really humble myself. I used to think I was so much more rational and less of a waster of time and resources than most people around me. Now I realize I have run on self-denial and repressed emotionality for a very long time and demanded that life have some Purpose when it doesn't. So a lot of my shadow work has been acknowledging my ultimate smallness and feebleness and just general uselessness -- i have a lot to be grateful to other people for doing, but also life has no purpose that needs to be fulfilled so i can just exist and suck for every single second that i'm alive if that's what i'm gonna do.

radical acceptance shit is definitely mixed in there, and some DBT kinda strategies. I've finally arrived at a place where I can love my dissatisfaction as a core part of me and accept that life is not meant to be happy and comfortable. we always keep moving, changing our environments to make them a little better, chasing after new passions and then getting disillusioned with them, falling in and out of love, getting lost. we're always lost. we're always making mistakes and being dumb as humans. that's like what we are. silly little freaks that make up lots of pretend games for fun but then get swept up in believing them too much. i kind of feel at peace now with the fact that i'll always be messy and impulsive and have weird beliefs and will change constantly and look back on my past with a cringe reaction every four or five years. i dont expect myself to ever arrive, because what the hell would that look like?? being satisfied and happy sure sounds a lot like being dead.