#I'm taking a break from that story for a bit

[soulgazingwithbucky]

why bucky has a blowout

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Wife!Reader

Summary: bucky would never take advice from valentina or any of the thunderbolts, let alone hair advice. but the love of his life? a different story

Warnings: fluffy ig?

Word count: 750

A/N: i never thought i would miss the unbearable itch to write, and yet!!! so happy i was able to make something, so i hope ya enjoy! If you find yourself enjoying this, feel free to check out my other works here <3

"Stay still, Buck," you murmur softly.

Bucky stifles a huff. He could stay still for hours--if he wasn't in front of the bathroom mirror, forced to stare at his reflection. Behind him, you cup a strand of his hair in your hand.

You release the strand, pleased at the slight curl that has formed.

"I'm not doin' anymore of these things, doll," Bucky says. "M'telling Valentina she can put Walker up there from now on."

"You tell her, love," you encourage, though you're a bit distracted wrapping the next strand of hair around the thermal brush. You've never met your husband's "boss," but you've heard enough to get a sense of her character. You doubted Bucky was going to be able to get himself out of press conferences.

"After this hairstyle, though? You'll be first in line for any media coverage," you tease.

This time, Bucky can't hold back a grumble at the thought. You giggle, but it's quickly stifled by a yawn. Bucky softens at the sight of your sleepiness.

"Thank you, sweetheart," he says sheepishly.

Valentina is a blur as she rushes past Bucky. But she pauses abruptly, taking a few steps back until she's planted in front of him. Bucky does his best to ignore her, staring straight ahead, but he eventually puts down his sandwich and slowly meets her eyes.

"This won't do," Valentina says, gesturing at his head. Bucky doesn't care much about what "won't do," but he has a meeting with Agent Taylor in twenty minutes. He very much likes the idea of enjoying his sandwich on the couch, sans the Contessa.

"What, Valentina?" Bucky says slowly.

"This hair," she responds, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"I have been telling him that!" Alexei declares. Bucky pinches the bridge of his nose as the Red Guardian emerges from the kitchen. "I told him, my sponsorship with Drybar is at risk if--"

"Oh, Drybar? That's pretty good. Listen, Bucky, if there's one thing I know, it's hair. Wish you could ask that guy, am I right?" Valentina gestures in Bob's general direction in the next room.

"No," Bucky responds.

"I tell him, so flat," Alexei continues, "so lifeless! Bucky, hair care is so important--"

"Great talk, everybody," Bucky declares, scooping up his sandwich and taking it into the other room.

When Bucky recalled the conversation to you, he thought you'd laugh it off with him. Instead, he saw a glint in your eye that made him worried. Afterwards, he came home one too many times to you binge watching hair tutorials. Foolishly, he held out hope that you would lose interest, but then packages of hair tools started arriving at your door.

"You know," you said, holding back another yawn, "if we lived closer to the Tower, we wouldn't have to wake up so early."

"Not yet, doll," is Bucky's gruff response. Living far away meant that it would be harder for people to link you two. It wasn't that he would get relentlessly teased by his coworkers about being married--that was a given. But if they were on a mission, and one of them became compromised? He couldn't imagine what would happen if the wrong people found out about his life. About you. He already had to live with the fact that Sam helped you both find this house, and now--

"He's our friend, Buck." You recognize the distraught look on your husband's face, and you place a gentle hand on his shoulder, breaking him out of his spell. "He would never do anything to hurt us."

Bucky moves to place a kiss on your hand, grateful that he doesn't always have to talk for you to understand him. He opens his mouth to express his appreciation, but you interrupt him.

"All done," you say proudly. The wide grin on your face is almost enough to make Bucky forget that he is going to be sitting in a room full of journalists in a few hours. You comb your fingers through his hair to loosen the curls, then apply hairspray. Bucky makes a show of sputtering. He never makes a show of anything, but he loves the way you giggle at his antics.

He turns to face you, wrapping his arms around your waist. You wrap your hands around his neck, trying your best to avoid your hard work.

"My wife," he says, a phrase he will never get tired of saying. He plants a kiss on your lips before you respond:

"My hero."

[linnlarsnhansn]

SKAM 10 year anniversary podcast -

English translation

NRK is celebration a decade of Skam (😭) with a nine episode podcast. You can listen here

I'm collaborating with @kosegruppie who will be posting my translations and make subtitled videos with them. Make sure to follow them here on insta for all the latest!

Below the cut you'll find the transcript of the first episode (I've skipped a few summaries, the radio hosts watching the show etc, but all cast and crew interviews are there!). Enjoy!

From 03:50 

Torkil Risan: It’s hard to measure that kind of thing, but Skam has to be Norway’s biggest tv show success. It was a small productio with low budget, had unknown actors and no traditional marketing. But the show would go on to break streaming records, set the agenda for public debate and take part in changing the language both in Norway and abroad. It would change the lives of many young people and entertain hordes of adults, and not only in Norway, no. There were people using their free time to translate the Norwegian episodes to a steadily growing international audience. Episodes were downloaded both illegally and, well only illegally really. But whatever. People all over the world were watching Skam. Skam has, up until this point, nine international adaptations, with Sram in Croatia as the latest one - it came out in October 2024. And all of this, that is the Norwegian original version, is created, written and directed by one person - Julie Andem. 

JA: It became very difficult after a while to film and keep the storylines secret, because we were recorded wherever we went. Especially the outdoor scenes. Like at Nissen there were suddenly hordes of fans from all over the world when we were supposed to film, so that made it a bit difficult.    

TR: And you can’t picture what it would become like when unknown 16 and 17 year olds get cast in a new show at NRK.

JA: Before these actors got their roles, at the last round of auditions, I had a talk with each one of them where I said: “I don’t know how big this show will become, it can become nothing, but it might become big. And if it becomes big and you become famous, you give away part of your freedom - the freedom to be anonymous to people. Today, when you’re on the bus, having a bad day, no one bothers you. But after you’ve become famous, people will walk up to you and want to talk to you and you can’t get away from that. When I call you next week and give you the role, if I do, I’ll ask if you’ve thought that over, and what you think of it - because you have to think that over now.” And I said that to each one of them before they got their parts. And then I think it was Josefine who said, we talked later about what I had said, that she thought “that lady is delusional. She’s making a small P3 show”. My talk went in one ear and out the other. 

JA: It’s hard to imagine things like this for people that haven’t experienced success like that, and what it demands of you afterwards. And the freedom you lose to be anonymous. It is a really difficult pressure and it can be challenging. We thought a lot about it throughout and one of the main reasons that we ended Skam when we did, was because of that pressure on the young actors.

TR: Is this an ongoing conversation with the cast? 

JA: I always think - there’s no one outside of it who understands what we experienced with Skam. So the best ones to talk to, always, about these things are the cast and the production team, who understand it and have the same feelings. 

TR: That Skam also changed the lives of those who created it, we’ve established. I am curious about how Julie Andem, who has no clue how big the show is going to become, created these characters?

JA: As I remember it, I did loads of research with the target group to understand what that group, girls in Norway aged 16, needed, what stories it needed. And I think my goal was to develop 10 characters who could fit into a universe about them. That’s where I started. And the plan was that all the characters would develop in a way that they could carry their own season. So all of them were developed as main characters. I created them before the seasons, before the storylines. 

TR: In September it’ll be ten years since Skam was released. It was released more like an event than a traditional tv show. Short clips could be dropped at any point during the week and people in the show posted on social media. It was Mari Magnus who was responsible for these digital updates. 

MM: All the characters, even if they don’t have open accounts on social media, have a bunch of email addresses. I have a box full of sim cards and burner phones. Everyone had a facebook account. They were private, but it was so that it would feel a little real if you searched “Isak Valtersen”.

TR: Someone else that became well known to the audience, was media professor Vilde Schanke Sundet. She saw the format as unique enough that she had to start doing research on Skam while it was still possible. 

VSS: I binged the entire first season one night. I remember laying in the cosy corner at home, watching on the ipad. I went to bed at 2:30 am and thought “now I understand what they are talking about”. I was interested in analysing it the same way researchers have been interested in analysing multimedia storytelling - how the story is built, how you make the different components, what it is NRK wants with this show, what it is trying to tell. And you become so drawn into the story that the ability to analyse goes a bit up and down through the different seasons. 

TR: What makes Skam different from other tv shows?

VSS: There’s both things that make it very different and things that are very similar. Because the dramatic curves are similar to other dramas we know of. It’s love triangles, good vs evil, the struggle to find yourself, all things similar to the high school/coming of age genre. And it’s well made, but that’s not what’s groundbreaking. The groundbreaking part is how the story is told. You're doing it real time, so if you’re following the blog it will appear very close. You never know when something is coming. It’s unpredictable, it drags people in. It’s based on the needs of the audience. They did loads of research when developing the show and it appears closer when the setting is a Norwegian high school than an American one. That makes it different and innovative. I think all the fans know they are fictional characters, but they feel much more real because we are not sitting down in front of the tv to watch, they are just there in your everyday life. It’s much more at the top of your mind than other things you watch and put behind you until the next episode is released. 

TR: The way Skam was created made it special. But that was not the most important part for Morten Hegseth. 

MH: The format has been given too much credit. It was a good format to post clips in that way, but the reason it was so good was that the content was amazing. It wasn’t the publishing strategy that made Skam an international phenomenon. 

(Skip to 13:26)

TR: Before they created Skam, the show creator Julie Andem and a few others made in depth interviews with young people in the target group. And the challenges Eva has in season 1, was pretty common with the group. 

JA: What is that life like? When you’re coming from secondary school, where you have a friend group and a familiar and safe environment and you’re thrown into a new universe. Everything is starting over and you have to find your place again. But she starts out as a girl who has become totally dependent on her boyfriend. She’s been thrown out of the friend group because of the choice she’s made to be together with her boyfriend, with Jonas, and that makes her dependent on him. 

TR: A successful way to independence is to become friends with a confident, stylish and cool new girl, like Noora. That, despite being good in Spanish, isn’t as crazy about russ as the other girls Eva start’s to hang out with - Jente-Chris, Vilde and Sana, who has concrete plans to fix a spot on a russebuss. And there you have our girl gang. Do you, the listener, think they are cool? Are they supposed to be cool?

JA: Socially, in school, they are not a cool group. That’s what the first storyline is about. The Pepsi Max gang are the cool, pretty girls and the other girls are not so cool. But I think they are very cool.

TR: What about the boys, aren’t they cooler?

JA: Yeah, they do at least have cooler references and masks. I’s more important to them to be cool. So they might be “cooler”.  

TR: To actress Lisa Teige, it was a bit like starting a new school - moving from Bergen and start working as an actor in Skam. How much of Eva is really in Lisa? 

LT: In the beginning I felt very different from Eva, because she went through very different things, I thought at that time. But things like finding friends in high school, I do identify with. I didn’t have that boyfriend drama, at least so early on. But looking back at it now, I would say I see myself in a lot of the things Skam talks about. I’ve also been in girl drama, had partner problems and the vulnerability in finding new friends. But back then, I felt the need to be like “No! I’m not going through the same things as Eva right now”. But really I did eventually go through those things. 

TR: And like Eva, Lisa did find some good friends on Nissens’s school yard. 

LT: I remember I noticed they were a few years older than me. I thought they were incredibly cool. That was my first thought “shit, these are cool people with experience”. It felt very cool to be part of that group. And I have so many good memories from the set with all the girls together. Especially because there’s a lot of humor surrounding the Vilde and Chris characters. They improvised many funny parts and we were laughing so hard on set. The dynamics of the group was really good. 

TR: But Bergen, where Lisa is from, and Oslo are two different cities and they have different accents. 

LT: Some things were difficult for me, as someone from Bergen. Like when I was supposed to say vors (pre-game) for the first time, which I had never said before and I don’t think I had ever been to one. And they said vors in the Oslo dialect and it was so difficult for me. I had to call mum and dad back home to ask how I was supposed to say the word. 

TR: Eva is also one of the characters who is making out the most in the show. And here both Lisa and actor Marlon Langeland, who plays Jonas, got thrown into the deep end from the start. 

LT: We had a workshop before filming, where we got to know each other and we played some games, as warm up. But to start kissing that person is something totally different. I remember dreading that quite a lot, because we were making out the first day of filming. 

LT: And that’s the kind of thing you dread a lot, but when you first get going it’s very mechanical in a way. You don’t think about what you’re really doing and it’s like “can you place your hand there”, “turn a bit that way” and “make the kiss a bit more intense, because it looks good on camera”. 

(skip to 27:19)

TR: Mari Magnus mentioned The penetrators, the coolest russebuss at Nissen. 

MM: Penetrators has a song, that’s on Spotify and I don’t know if it has been said before, it probably has, but *whispers* it’s Tarjei. 

TR: That’s rapping?

MM: Yes. 

TR: So they guy singing lines like “Penetrators cums on your face, the weather report says flooding, it’ll rain cum”, that Tarjei Sandvik Moe, who plays Isak. Tarjei went to Nissen himself during this time and managed to sneak in several references to actual things going on in the school. And to blur the lines between the fictional and reality was one of the show’s goals. To make the show as real as possible they had instagram accounts and could start chatting with each other on friday evenings. 

MM: It was a Friday evening and Julie was probably at work and we posted a photo on Jonas’ account, a Big Smalls reference, that he tagged Isak in. And we are logged into one account each, one on Isak’s, one on Jonas’. And we decided to have some fun in the comment section, hoping that maybe three people would see it, but that these three would have such a weird experience that they in school on Monday would say “You won’t believe what I say on instagram on Friday”. So Isak and Jonas drag Eva into it, but Eva is on a russebuss. And the audience is so cool, there are fans playing along and commenting things like “I saw you in the cafeteria today” “what did you get on your maths test?”. This is week two maybe, and those things we could do a bit more strategically at the start to get the engagement going.  

TR: It’s a bit slow in the beginning, but interest in Skam grows quite fast. So to chat as the characters on instagram becomes too difficult, there’s too many others taking part in the conversation. And some audience members were more engaged than others. One of them was Julian Dahl, who was very active in the comment section. Active enough to get mentioned in the show. 

TR: You’re living alongside these characters and sometimes that creates problems. Because Eva wants Jonas and Isak to go with her to the revy-party but they can’t. Why not?

Isak: We can’t

Jonas: Why not? 

Isak: The tickets to Kindred Fever. 

Jonas: I had totally forgotten that. 

TR: You’re excused if the name Kindred Fever doesn’t ring any bells. They had a mini hype right around the time when this was released and they happened to have a concert the same day as the revy-party. 

JA: The only reason we picked that concert was because it was Oslo that day. We just thought what band could they possibly be interested in that’s playing in Oslo that day?

TR: To make the right references is hard when you’re making a show. How do you know what 16 year old boys are saying, doing and would post? Sometimes Mari Magnus asked the actors to do it themselves. 

MM: In season one we sent Isak, Eva and Jonas out on the town with some phones and told them to make some content as if they were a friend group eating burgers in town. And they came home with loads of nice stuff we could post. 

(Skip to 33:40)

TR: I’m at your disposal - you can ask questions about the show and leave your thoughts and tips. There’s many easter eggs and symbolism in Skam that might be fun to dig deeper into if we come across it. There’s a messaging function on NRK radio. You could for example ask, like I asked Julie Andem, why is the show called Skam?

JA: We had loads of suggestions and we hung big sheets of paper at the auditions where they could write suggestions for the name of the show. And we got a lot of strange ones and Ingvild Marie Nyborg, who was on the team, came up with Skam and no one of us hated it, so that was the one. 

TR: Do you remember any of the ones you hated? 

JA: I remember “the 99:er gang”. 

TR: I’ve found some questions the fans are wondering by sneaking around in some of the many Skam online fan forums: Like, who in the Skam universe is Lisa Teige? 

LT: During the auditions I very much wanted to be Noora. Especially when I was 16 I thought Noora was super cool. But I do feel closest to Eva. I recognize myself in the insecurity and the fun parts and being someone with principles. It’s a boring answer, but it is Eva. That’s why I got to play her.  

[mechncheese]

Do you have any tips for drawing transformers/simplifying transformer designs :0?? Your art retains their 3-dimensionality without sacrificing their posability and all this while using 'simple' looking shapes, it's genuinely very satisfying to look at

Thank you ! One of the biggest challenges for me when I first got into drawing transformers was trying to keep their movement from being too stiff while keeping their design robot-like so I'm glad that it reads as fluid to people !

I'm used to drawing organic characters, working with simpler designs, and emphasizing movement and flow so this was definitely new territory for me !

I'll talk about my simplification process below !

The easiest way to go about simplifying transformer designs is reducing them to their basic shapes and then building them back up. You can see it a lot in G1. Since G1 characters are designed to be animated (and also look like toys) they can't make their designs too complex so it makes a good starting point when breaking bots down.

The comic designs are a different story. Because it's a different medium, artists can go ham with details.

IDW Thundercracker has a lot going on ! You can see all his mechanics and joints, he looks a bit overwhelming to draw !

G1 Thundercracker is more blocky and simplified, definitely less intimidating to draw, he's mostly just cubes

When I simplify transformers, I break them down and then gradually add details. I think about it like carving out a statue, you have your block of marble and you carve out details until you're happy. You definitely do NOT need to draw every detail, I always leave out a bunch of detailed parts in favor of simplicity.

Let's simplify IDW Thundercracker, if you break him down into shapes, he is also just cubes. The red underneath is my initial sketch and the blue outline is just there to show the shapes.

It also helps to have an understanding of perspective and the way 3D shapes work.

I'd say this is the base for him ! He follows almost the same base as g1, we're keeping it blocky but I do take liberty to taper parts of the body like towards the knees and or along the arms to give my pose some fluidity. Then we shove on his details bit by bit

A lot of it is just picking and choosing design elements you like about a character and finding ways to make it fit onto the design. Thundercracker's IDW design has these cool ribs that go along his torso and I tried to include that while simplifying it.

Something I try to avoid is shoving as Many details as possible onto a design. It can make the design look cluttered and busy and that might be good if that's what you're going for but it's just not for me. I find that more details make it harder to pose my robots so I keep it minimal.

Applying color also gives you a good look at how much room your design has. Here's TC colored !

I could stop here and call him done but I think he looks a bit too spacious so I'm going to add some more details. Here's where I get a bit wild and kind of just do what I want. For me, the references are a base and as I get further along down the design I add seasoning to taste. More plating, different hues and colors, bits and baubles, and artistic flare. Here's where I wind up !

I'm happy with this ! I think Anymore detail and he would be a bit too cluttered (his wings are already reaching the Clutter Point for me)

As you draw more and more designs you'll develop an eye for what you like ! The world is your oyster and you can always go back and redesign/adjust !

[thelustrouswritermirage]

AHHHHHHHHOMG

I'm going to do some headcanons and scenarios for the hanks cause I've had so much Date Everything content on my fyp and I'm literally in love with them. I ♡ HIMBOS

Warning - This is going to have plenty of NSFW work in it so read at your own risk

As a Group

They definitely have one big brain cell that they kinda just pass around

They all will learn how to do a skill or trick together and they will literally spend a week focusing on nothing but that and then never do it again

Let's be real the poor baby boys don't know how to do much for themselves. That closet is like a living frat house and they take that to an extreme. I think Hank number 2 could cook a little but only enough to make like burnt pasta or a nice salad. Other then that they survive off of kids TV dinners a hope and a prayer.

They literally worship the ground you walk on. They will attempt crazy stunts or preform a whole choreographed dance routine just to get a bit of smile or a thumbs up from you and God if you praise them...... BRO they are rolling around on the floor, jumping up and down, Hank number 3 has a raging hard on and now they won't leave your side for the rest of the night.

After you and them become a package congratulations you will never have a moment to yourself again. Someone will always have something new to show you or a story they wanna tell and these guys don't break off oh no if you get one you get them all.

They never really calm down but if you do express to them that you would enjoy some quiet they will happily attempt to do so.

Keyword there "ATTEMPT" these poor baby's are so energetic that even something like charades will make you think the house is about to come down on you. The thumping and thudding and whispered ows after a fist bump got to "radical" will some how manage to be even louder then before.

Also just gotta throw this in here hank number 4 has major golden retriever vibes. Like imagine patting him on the head and telling him your proud of him or that he's a good boy. GOD HE WILL NEVER GET ENOUGH OF YOU

NSFW

Okay in my mind the hanks are just a huge poly group that swallowed you whole so have fun with that.

It all starts once you've gotten to know the hanks a bit better. Soon Hank number 3's thoughts start to kinda seep into their shared dreams at night. Images of you sprawled out beneath them covered in sweat and cum both yours and theirs while you suck them off. When morning comes and they see you the visuals just won't leave and soon they are all red faced messes fawning over you.

You would have found out either way I mean these guys are open books but the way you would find out is less then ideal. You would be wandering around the house talking to furniture and silverware as one does when you hear a loud thud from up stairs. Obviously being curious you go to find out what's happening only to walk in on the hanks in a jerk circle heads thrown back, eyes screwed shut, moaning and muttering out your name in helpless whines as they cum all over their own hands and each other. Then they would giggle and mumble out some nonsense about how rad that was before they finally see you.

I don't think any of them including Hank 3 have ever been so embarrassed.

They would try to cover themselves while also apologizing and a sly comment about you "enjoying the show" from Hank 3 would ignite the flame that eventually leads to your newest predicament.

So there you are, Hank 3 behind you hitting a spot in your ass you never imagined could feel so good while whispering in your ear about how beautiful you look from that angle. Then Hank 5 is in front thrusting up into your weeping walls and holding your head up so he can stick his tongue down your throat. While they ravage your insides Hank 1 and 2 sit off to either side of you watching with their dicks in hand. Hank 1 loves to watch how your ass just molds like play doh to Hank number 3 waist everytime he thrusts into. Hank number 2 is definitely more of a boob guy. He likes how soft they are and how your hardend nipples are a deep shade of rossey pink. He would probably imagine them in his face or mouth while he gets himself off and wouldn't mind being suffocated to death by them. Finally sweet golden boy hank number 4 would be on his side on the bed watching hank 3 and 5 thrust into you. Something about the way your cunt trys to suck number 5 cock back in while he pulls out makes hank 4 ache in all the right places.

Once they all have finally had enough they would crawl into bed with you in a big sloppy cuddle puddle and tell each and every person in the bed individually things that they love about them.

After about 45 minutes of that they have whined down enough to get to sleep and you actually sleep very comfortably. Considering that good luck getting out of bed in the morning cause they are not going to wanna let you go.

[peekofhistory]

Hi! Love your Tumblr! I'm fascinated by the fact that you are in China making and playing the Guqin, I was wondering if you can share a bit more about yourself and your background and why you decided to move to China? Like a self intro (that you're comfortable sharing). Thanks and have a nice day!!

Hello :D

How I ended up in Yangzhou learning to make/play the Guqin is a rollercoaster of a story xDD

As for my background, I was born in China (Beijing) and moved to the US when I was around 6 yrs old (my mom had moved several years earlier and I went to live with her). From the start my mom emphasized I can't forget I'm Chinese, because that's where I'm from and where my family's from, so she put in a lot of effort teaching me Chinese. She even had a colleague send over elementary school textbooks from China so she could teach me Chinese at home. She also got recordings of some Chinese TV shows and she'd watch them with me, explaining each episode and giving me information on that period of history.

Back then there weren't that many TV shows in China, and the ones we could access in the US were even less, so it was mostly classics shows like Journey to the West (1986), Dream of the Red Chamber (1987) and Romance of the Three Kingdoms (1994):

That really planted the root for my interest in Chinese history and culture. Especially in the case of Romance of the Three Kinggoms that was based on the actual Three Kingdoms period in Chinese history, it made me aware of how long China's history was and how rich and colourful it was, all the incredible historical figures, the battles of the past, the stories, etc.

Later on I also became interested in Chinese Opera (mainly Peking Opera, Huangmei Opera, and Shanghai Yue Opera):

We moved to Canada after a few years and stayed there until I graduated uni. I then went to Japan to work for a few yrs.

When I returned to Canada, it was 2018 and I found myself having to start all over career-wise. My experience in Japan really didn't help me at all when job hunting in Canada, and I ended up doing a few entry-level jobs in healthcare (office admin work). Then Covid and I lost my job, found another job about a year later, but still entry-level.

It was actually during the Covid break that I found out I could buy Hanfu fairly easily now. Throughout my time at uni and in Japan I didn't really check Chinese websites so I didn't know much about what was happening in China. During the Covid break, with nothing else to do at home, I found Taobao and realized the pretty clothes I adored in TV shows as a child I can now buy :D I went a bit crazy at first and ordered a whole bunch, but at the time I honestly didn't know too much about Hanfu aside from long robes, large sleeves, criss-crossed collars. But it was fun to wear them out (once lockdown ended) and actually feel like the characters I once saw on TV:

The job I had just before I came to China I actually really enjoyed, the work itself was fulfilling, the pay wasn't great but OK, and my co-workers for the most part were pretty good (my direct supervisor was great, I really, really enjoyed working with her). Unfortunately there was some changes to staffing in the office and the workload became really bad. I found myself literally having nightmares about work, and crying driving to and from work everyday. I decided I needed to quit. It was taking over my life 24/7, I was constantly tense and dreaded having to go to the office every morning.

At this point I'm in my late 30s and I took a few months to think about what I wanted to do with the rest of my life. Either look for another regular office job that may or may not be better than the last, or try something completely different.

At the same time, I decided to take the chance to visit my family in China. Without a job, I could visit for a longer period of time (otherwise I could only get 2 wks paid vacation). I remember my mom mentioned during one of her visits to China she had met a master of woodblock printing (雕版印刷/diaoban yinshua). It was the first form of printing invented, they would carve out pages of text (or images), put ink over top, then print it onto paper:

This was even earlier than movable type printing (活字印刷/huozi yinshua) where each character was printed on a separate block so you could arrange them as needed:

This master's workshop took in apprentices and would offer free housing and food. After a certain amount of time, once the apprentices' work reached a certain level, they were even given a salary for their work.

I thought that sounded like a great plan. I didn't explicitly come to China with the goal of finding a place to do an apprenticeship, but I was aware this sort of opportunity was available, and it aligned with my interest in Chinese history and culture.

When I arrived in China last year I spent a few months visiting my dad and other family, before I ended up in Yangzhou.

There were some emotional ups and downs in between, I did find a woodblock printing master, I started to learn a bit with him, it didn't work out, etc., etc. But essentially I found myself in Yangzhou with nothing to do.

Yangzhou is quite famous for Guqin (there's an entire street here dedicated to selling Guqin...although it's a bit of a tourist trap ^^;;) , and I thought I could find a teacher to learn how to play the instrument at least. I had bought a Guqin years ago in Canada, but was always too busy/lazy to actually learn/practice it, but now being free everyday I decided I could do some sort of intense course. While scrolling through the Red Note app looking for Guqin teachers I came across a post of a teacher looking for students to learn how to make+play Guqin, with the option to live at the workshop and have housing and food covered:

And my eyes lit up.

That was how it all started :D

The biggest obstacle is honestly some family members. Growing up abroad, I've never really had a close relationship with any of my relatives in China. I've also never had to navigate the complicated family relations that Chinese families can sometimes have. If I were to go to any other country in the world to learn something, none of them would say anything, I don't think they'd even think about it, but because I'm in China a lot of them suddenly feel they need to express an opinion about my decisions, lol. Some don't like my interest in wearing Hanfu, some think I'm crazy learning something that "no one else these days is interested in", some think I'm immature/irresponsible not finding a 'regular' job and 'wasting' my time. Luckily, none of them live in Yangzhou so aside from a passive-aggressive text message/phone call once in awhile I can do my own thing 😁💖

[anyarose011]

Born Too Late III: "It Ain't Me, Babe"

Pairing: DBF!Michael 'Robby' Robinavitch x Reader

Summary: You're not out of the woods even after your roommate's crazy ex-boyfriend beat you to a pulp. Over a series of setbacks pushing you to the brink of several panic attacks (or is it just one really long one?), you still manage to find refuge in a few, safe people. But, in the words of Doechii "And just when it couldn't get worse", the worst possible person finds out about you and Robby...

Part 3 of 3 (Masterlist)

Warning(s): Past Physical Assault, Blood, Inevitable Medical Inacuracies, Allusion/Mention of Sexual Assault, ANGST, Trent and Kimi, Reader has valid crashout(s), Healing of Daddy Issues?, Rant about a Real Criminology Concept, and a Realistic but Open-Ending.

I do have to say that this was one of my favorite stories to write on here. Not even for the purpose of Robby x Reader, I just loved the dynamics of all the characters and plot overall. I truly hope that the ending doesn't seem like a cop out; my intention was to write it as real as possible, especially since this all took place in one day. I'm tempted to write a prequel to this, showing all of the "missing scenes" alluded to throughout the story with Robby. We'll see how I feel lol. Thank you guys for ALL your interest, and hope you enjoy the ending! Sorry not sorry about the length, I yap 😭

Word Count: 9.2k

There were people you knew who had resting bitch faces. Dennis Whitaker was the first person you met to have a resting scared face.

That, and it was also because he asked you if you were okay, and you didn’t say anything.

He called your name. “Are you okay?”

Your mouth trembled as you tried to find the words. What left your lips must have been from the depths of your subconscious.

“Where-where’s my dad?”

You were outside of your body, but you couldn’t even see yourself. Hell, you didn’t feel like yourself.

Whitaker furrowed his brow. “Your…your dad?”

All you could do was nod.

“I’m not sure.” He responded gently. “Can I take your hand?”

You nodded, swallowing thickly. You wanted to cry, but you didn’t know why you couldn’t. Whitaker took your hand, leading you alongside him.

“I’m sorry I haven’t talked to you in a bit; I know things have been crazy.” He smiled reassuringly.

“It’s okay.” You whispered.

“Have you eaten anything besides chocolate today?”

You shook your head. “Have you?”

“No.” He laughed. “We can go get something from one of the vending machines in the break room.”

“I want to go home.”

God, could you sound even more like a sniveling child?

Whitaker stopped just a few feet away from the elevator and so did you. He got a better look at you; either that, or he was finally saying everything he first noticed when he ran into you.

 “What happened to your nose?” He asked gently. “It’s kinda swollen.”

“I don’t know.”

Why did you say that so swiftly?

He frowned. “Were you crying just now? I think some of your mascara got onto your cheeks.”

Instinctively, you wiped your face with your free hand as if you would find any residue. You shook your head.

“It’s nothing.”

Whitaker took a deep breath, lowering his voice and saying your name. “I’m going to be honest, I think you should get checked out by someone here. It doesn’t have to be me, but I think something bad happened to you. You don’t have to tell me-.”

“-I’m fine.”

“But please, let me help you.”

It felt wrong, how he wanted to. No, it was his job to do that; there’s no way someone could see right through you when you were actually not doing well. You had relationships (friendships and romantic) where you had to earn the privilege of people caring for you.

You’d gotten used to it. Mainly with Kimi but also others who you thought were safe.

It felt like your skin was burning, and it was only then you realized you were still holding his hand. So, you dropped it.

“Thank you,” you felt like a puppet on strings as your mouth moved. “but really I’m fine.”

“Did you drive here?”

He wasn’t giving up.

“Yes.” You sighed. “I know what you’re doing, I can-.”

“-One of the guys on the night shift got here early and discharged me.” He interrupted, yet somehow, you weren’t annoyed. “We can go get your stuff and then get dinner. Anywhere you want, my treat. I mean, as long as it’s not like over a hundred bucks or something.”

You wondered if he was smiling out of nerves or trying to cheer you up. In your experience, it was usually both.

“I’ll drive.” You stated.

He thinned his lips. “You had a rough day; I can do it.”

You snorted. “So, if you’re driving my car, how are you getting home?”

“I’ll call an Uber.”

Usually, you would’ve made a joke about his male privilege and being so carefree about taking an Uber home late at night, but circumstances didn’t allow you to. Still, as if it hadn’t been one of the worst days of your life, a watery smile pulled onto your lips.

The ‘ding!’ of the elevator beside you made your head turn, and the doors slid open. Standing there, was Trent, seething. Blood coursed down from his nose to his chin, and where you once saw nothing behind his eyes, they were now filled with the rage you knew all too well.

You met his gaze the same time your soul left your body.

“You fucking bitch!” He charged you.

It happened all so fast.

Trent was just a hair away from you one moment, the next, Whitaker flung you behind him. You landed onto the ground, and when you looked up, you saw Whitaker go face first onto the floor beside you.

Crying in horror, you grabbed onto a nearby cart and pulled yourself onto your feet. Everything playing in your ears was simply noise; people were yelling and screaming, but you couldn’t make out a word they were saying.

It was only your eyes you could trust.

If they did not deceive you, you watched Jack Abbott tackle Trent to the ground; the first one to do so…When did he get there?

And, it was then that your vision began to blur as tears clouded your sight, that part of your hearing returned. As you stood there, with Jack holding Trent down, for verbatim, you heard.

“Did you get off my little girl when she told you to?!”

Someone wrapped their arm around your shoulders, turning you away, but something in your body told you that they were safe. You could barely see anything as you were led through the ER; only hazy objects and blaring lights. Someone was talking in your ear too, but again, it was just all noise upon the noise coming from the catastrophe behind you.

 You hadn’t even realized you were clinging to the person like a buoy in an ocean you were stranded in until you heard a door slide shut behind you. Like a miracle, your vision started clearing up, and air entered through your nose and into your lungs.

Then, the taste of blood on your tongue.

You touched your nose, pulling your hands away to see them coated in red.

Melissa King gently called your name, placing her hand on your back.

“You should sit down.” She moved away from you to dim the lights, and your eyes caught sight of one Heather Collins in the room as well, prepping one of the beds.

Somehow, just at the sight of a medical bed, did you finally realize how much everything hurt.

Yet, you couldn’t rest.

The little girl, practically a baby, the one who got stung by a bee, you had to make sure she was okay, you had to-!

Collins rested her hands on your shoulders, stopping you. “It’s okay. Robby checked on her a minute ago, she’s fine. You need to sit down.”

Did you say all of that aloud? Could she read your mind? Oh God, if she could, then does she know-?!

“-Holy fucking shit!” Santos opened the door, and you never knew her face could morph into such fear. “Are you okay?”

You shook your head. “Is Dennis okay?!”

He threw himself in front of you and was fucking pummeled to the floor!

Santos looked out the door before looking back. “I’m gonna be honest, his nose kinda looks messed up. But hey, you’re twinning.”

“Santos!” Collins scolded.

“Right, you’re right.” She nodded. “I’m so sorry I-.”

“-I heard you had a spinal tap to do.” Collins interrupted.

“I’ll go.” Santos gave one last look to you. “I’ll talk to you later, I swear.”

And then she left. It wasn’t the strangest, nor the quickest, interaction you had with someone…but fucking hell, this day.

Mel said your name again, but this time, strained. You looked at her and saw her gaze downwards at your pants. Following it, you saw blood seeping through the fabric around your groin.

Your jaw trembled as you looked back up at both her and Collins. As professionals, you knew they had seen worse than this. As women, you could see that familiar look of horror on their faces.

“He didn’t do anything.” Were your first words. “Not like that.”

“Baby…” Collins uttered.

“No, no,” You resisted. “I’m on my period! I-I-Mel, you gave me a pad this morning. I got him off me and-and I got it out and put it in his face so he’d stay off. I-I-I mean he bragged about pulling a girl’s tampon out of his mouth one time, so I didn’t think he’d overreact.”

What were you even saying?!

“I’ve had sex before! I-I would know, I would know if that bastard did something to me and-and-!” You hiccupped, feeling more blood seep through your nose and into your mouth.

“It’s okay,” Collins soothed. “we believe you. Can you sit down so I can assess you?”

What other choice did you have?

Sitting on the edge of the bed, you tried to catch the blood still gushing out of your nose before it could get on more of your clothes. Too late for that.

Mel went to one of the drawers nearby as Collins held up her finger. “Follow it.”

You did; passed with flying colors.

“EOM is intact.” She told herself, then took a mini flashlight from her pocket, shining it in your eyes. “Pupils are reactive. Do you have a headache?”

“Kinda.”

“Does it hurt to breathe through your nose?”

“Weird, but doesn’t hurt.”

Mel came beside you with a handful of tissues and a nasal tampon. “I’m going to clean up the area around your nose, and this should pack the bleeding.”

You hummed. “You got one for me to put between my legs?”

She shook her head.

“Extra pants?”

Collins slipped off her sweatshirt, draping it over your legs. “I got some in my locker, plus a pad.”

You nodded, getting choked up. “Thank you.”

“Mel,” she looked at her. “could you finish up?”

She affirmed. “Of course.”

“I’ll grab some icepacks.”

Collins left, leaving you alone with Mel. It felt strange; both your body and the entire day. Still, Mel wasn’t one to dwell on it, unlike you.

She brought the tissues up to your nose. “Your gonna feel some pressure.”

You grunted as she placed the Kleenex onto your nostrils. The white tissues turned red, and she carefully slid the tampon into your left nostril. Apparently, that was the only one bleeding.

Mel placed her thumbs on your face. “Tell me when you feel pressure.”

They traveled up around the area of your nose, and it was only when she touched the septum did you hiss in pain. Mel walked back over to the drawer, then taking out a few wet wipes.

“Well,” she hunched over, cleaning the blood off of you as gently as she could. “it’s not misshapen, so that’s good. It’s not broken either. Swollen and bruised, but all you really need are icepacks and I could get you some pain medication.”

“Could you take pictures?” You asked out of the blue.

 “I’m sorry?”

“Police usually take pictures of injuries for evidence, but could you?” You explained. “I just want to get it out of the way.”

Mel nodded. “Yeah, of course. Is it just your nose?”

You sighed. “No. It might be my head, I don’t know. He kicked me in the ribs…I think…yes, he did.”

“If you feel comfortable, would you want me to take pictures of those too?”

“Yes.” You said with certainty.

She backed up enough to give you space, taking out her phone. You decided to start with your ribs. They were tender, but thankfully, it wasn’t impossible to pull your shirt up. After Mel took a picture, you pulled it back down and she took a few photos of your nose and head.

“This is the worst photoshoot I’ve ever been in.” You joked.

“I’ve never been in one.” She stated.

“Let’s change that when the weather’s better.”

“Alright.” She put her phone away. “Now-.”

The door slid open, and in came Kimi like a bat out of hell.

“-What the hell did he do to you?!” She approached you.

Mel placed her hand on her shoulder. “You can’t be in here-.”

“-Fuck you, she’s my roommate.” She kneeled in front of you. “Baby, what happened?”

You hadn’t realized there was a long list of people you didn’t want to see at that moment, and she was near the top. You looked away, scowling and slipping the tampon out of your nose. Luckily, the blood finally stopped.

She didn’t take that as you being angry with her. She huffed. “Motherfucker. What’d you say to him?”

You finally looked at her. “What?”

“I’m just asking.” She explained. “He’s never done this before when I was a bitch, so you probably pissed him off-.”

You laughed. “-You’re an idiot.”

Kimi’s eyes shifted. At first, she was confused, then it quickly seeped into appalment. “What do you mean?”

You fell into a fit of giggles like Alice did down the rabbit hole. “I have told you hundreds, thousands, of times that whenever Trent hit something near you or me, then he actually wanted to hit one of us!”

Standing up, you weren’t laughing now. “And my God, I have never met someone who hates themselves so much, they bring a baby into the world for validation. But no, no, no, they’re not expecting to get it from the kid, they’re so fucking stupid they still think they’ll get it from the dad!”

The door slid open gently, and Collins came back in, carrying the pants, a single pad, and an ice pack. She said nothing.

Kimi didn’t lash out, and that’s what terrified you. Tears flew down her cheeks as you yelled at her, but she took a deep breath once you were finished.

“So, what should I do? Fuck my fifty-year-old boss?” She huffed. “How’s that working out for you?”

She marched out of the room, past Collins.

A part of you wished that Trent had killed you in the bathroom; you couldn’t feel shame if you were dead.

If not that, then you wished he somehow blinded you; just so that you wouldn’t have to see the way Heather Collins’s face dropped at the revelation.

Those two seconds in that room were brutal after Kimi left. Just where your gaze could only fall to the floor, and you didn’t even want to imagine the looks Mel and Collins were giving each other; or you.

“She has whiplash.” Collins said. “She can’t leave alone unless she signs an AMA.”

Just like that, you felt Mel hover her hand over your shoulder before retracting it and rushing out of the room. You stood there like a child who had just been yelled at, and didn’t dare to even breathe.

“How about we put these on?”

And Heather spoke to you like you were still one, but not with any hint of disdain in her voice. Hesitantly, you looked up and saw her holding the pants out to you. With shaking hands, you took them in yours.

She picked up her sweatshirt from the floor. “I’ll cover you. You can turn around if that makes you more comfortable.”

You nodded, and she draped the sweatshirt in front of you, giving you privacy from any peering eyes outside. Slowly, after getting your pants down to your knees, you slipped your underwear down; your ribs aching with every move. You managed to secure the pad, and as you tried to pull your pants all the way down, the sharpness in your side forced a hiss out of you.

“You need help?” She asked.

You shook your head immediately but seethed and clutched your ribs when you tried again. Collins set her sweatshirt aside, placing a comforting hand on your back and dropping down.

“I got it.”

She helped you out of your bloodied pants, and you placed your hands on her shoulders as you put one leg into each hole of the pants she got for you. Your eyes watered at the familiar feeling; how old were you the last time you did this? Seven? It’s so strange to remember such a small thing as your mother dressing you, not knowing when it would be the last time.

“There we go.” Collins smiled, standing back up, then guiding you to sit back down on the bed.

“I’m sorry.” You finally managed to say, even if it was barely above a whisper.

She shook her head, handing you an ice pack. “There’s nothing to be sorry for.”

She hates you. You told yourself.

You saw Kiara come to the door, and your heart leapt into your chest. She waited as Collins cracked it open, and they talked in hushed tones. In the end, Kiara came in and she sat at your side.

You had to cross your arms to keep yourself from throwing them around her. You doubt she would’ve cared, but it was strange; at that moment, you wanted to be held, but still would’ve felt like you were suffocating.

“Hey.” She greeted gently.

“Where is he?” You asked.

 “Well,” she began, not knowing exactly who you were asking for. “Whittaker’s being checked on, and he won’t stop asking if you’re alright. Trent was secured in a room, but the police just arrived so he’s in custody now. They want to talk to you, is that okay?”

You nodded. “If it’s a fucking man, I’m leaving.”

“There’s a woman.” She comforted. “She already volunteered to speak with you. At any point, if you want to stop-.”

“-I won’t.”

She said your name, warning but not to scare you. “I know you want justice; we all do. Still, you have to do what is best for you in the moment. You have every right to react the way you need to. Do you want Dr. Collins to be in here?”

You shook your head.

“Alright.” Kiara looked at her. “Could you send in officer Moreno, please?”

Collins nodded. “I’ll be back to check on you.”

Before you could say that her shift was over, she left. There you sat with Kiara, staring at an empty corner of the room. Without thinking, you laid your head on her shoulder. She said nothing; just ran her hand up and down your back as the officer came in.

It was different being the one to tell the police what happened to you. You were either in the cop’s position asking questions, or Kiara’s, just being a support for the other person.

Officer Moreno was nice enough. She never pushed you, but she wasn’t exactly comforting either. You understood she just wanted everything to write a report for, but you knew this wouldn’t be the last person you’d have to talk to.

The more you spoke about what happened to you in the last fifteen minutes (fuck…was that all it’d been?), the heavier your body became. You didn’t even feel a hint of fear or sadness within you; just the aching in your nose, and the exhaustion that swept over you.

Officer Moreno asked to take photos of your injuries, and you told her you’d taken them already, saying you’d give them to her.

“You’re efficient.” She complimented.

I have to be; you wouldn’t do anything if I wasn’t. You said in your head, but aloud you uttered. “Thanks.”

She left you with a phone number to send pictures to the police, a case number if you “remember anything else”, and a “Goodnight.”

That left you and Kiara together.

“Where’s Kimi?” You asked.

“She was calling her mom to pick her up last time I checked.” She answered. “Do you need a ride home?”

You shook your head. “I’ll get my dad to.”

“Dr. Abbott’s on call right now.”

Of course she knows.

“I can do it.” She offered.

“Kiara.” You said. “I’ll call a friend from my building.”

“I just want you to get home safe.”

“I will.” You smiled. “You’ve been here longer today. Go home.”

She sighed, standing. “You’re not coming in tomorrow. I’ll get Zidan to escort you out if you do.”

You forgot who that was for a moment, until you remembered him as the security guard. You were going to have to make him cookies or something; he probably had to deal with not just Trent, but a million other people.

Kiara said goodbye, giving you one last look before leaving. Just as you stood up to escape, Collins came back inside, carrying your purse and lunchbox.

“I’m sorry, I got the code from Jack.” She set them down. “How’re you feeling?”

You don’t know why, you had been asked that damn question countless times that day, but Collins asking it was the final nail in the coffin. Hours of repressed tears finally escaped your eyes, and you covered your mouth.

She immediately placed her hands on your arms, looking over you. “Are you in pain?”

“I’m sorry.” You hiccupped, rubbing your eyes.

“There’s nothing to-.”

“-Yes, there is!” You sobbed, and everything came out like a confession in a Catholic church. “I-I didn’t know you and Robby were together. I-I didn’t even know that he’d be a supervisor, or-or that I’d work with him, or even-or even that…”

Collins wrapped her arms around you, and you hid your head in her shoulder. She shushed. “I’m not mad.”

“Yes, you are.”

“No,” she pulled away, still holding onto you. “I’m not.”

You searched her face. You couldn’t find a hint of anger, but you knew she had to have felt something towards you. “Weren’t-weren’t you together…?”

“Not for a long time.” She shook her head.

You rubbed your face with your sleeve; you had cried all of your mascara off. Sighing, you picked up your belongings.

“I’ll wash your pants. Thanks.”

She laid a gentle hand on your shoulder. “Just wait a little bit.”

“You’re done with your shift, I’m done with mine.” You shrugged her off. “I’ll call a friend, I won’t drive.”

Except you would.

Collins said your name, and you only wished her goodnight, walking out the door. It was a miracle no one was instantly surrounding you, asking for answers to questions you had no energy to even listen to. You were making your way to the door to Chairs when-.

Your name left your stepfather’s mouth. You glanced to the side and saw him making a beeline towards you from across the room. Without any uncertainty, you turned around and walked back where you came from.

Like a demon in the night, you felt panic fester within you once again, just when you thought it was all over. You weren’t running, but your legs began to burn alongside your chest as you tried to find the nearest exit.

You pushed your way outside and found yourself in the ambulance bay. Still, despite there being only two paramedics and one security guard, there were still too many people. Your vision blurred once again, and you limped against the wall until you found the small opening to the alleyway.

Collapsing against the brick wall, you dropped everything you were holding and hid your eyes in your hands.

And you cried; really, truly cried.

Then crying turned into sobbing, then to weeping, then into you having to cover your mouth as you started wailing. You didn’t know when the walls of the alleyway started closing in on you, and neither did you know if it was your own shame or the walls crushing you to the point where it hurt to breathe.

You couldn’t even think. Every time you panicked, the weight of the world and all of your actions came into your head like a horrible flicker. Not now; no, there was nothing but white, hot pain.

“Put your head between your legs.”

They were just words. You couldn’t recognize the voice, but you listened. Knees bent, you bowed your head.

“Breathe.” The voice said, and it sounded deeper. “In and out. In and out.”

You did. The countless times you had to coach someone through an anxiety attack coming back to you.

It must’ve been another minute before you could feel your heart slow down and hear the ordinary sounds of the night; a pleasant mix of the bugs on the ground beside you, and a near-distant ringing of an ambulance.

“Rough day?”

It was Robby. That was the voice who had guided you through the second panic attack that day…or was it your third? Or had you just been in one that lasted a full half-hour?

You laughed upon looking at him, shaking your head and drying your eyes.

He offered a pitiful smile. “That bad?”

“Yeah.” You heaved. “Does this mean I’m doing a good job at coping if I’m laughing?”

Robby shrugged. “If you don’t laugh, you’ll cry.”

“I’ve done too much of that today.”

He nodded, not saying anything. You rested your head against the brick wall. Maybe it was better that you saw him after all the shit that hit you in such a short amount of time. In the end, tears and all, the whole day was just ridiculous.

“Do you want me to tell you what happened?” You asked.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” He looked at you.

Sighing, you realized that, yes, you actually did.

“I wasn’t sexually assaulted.” You said it so easily. “It just…hurt, what he did. Nothing’s broken but I still feel like shit and it’s…it’s funny. I apologized. I was so unprofessional towards him, and I apologized, but he still did this. I did everything right and he still did this!”

Robby shook his head. “Don’t go down that road. Nothing you did to him could ever justify what he did to you.”

“No,” you didn’t even listen, tone laced with sarcasm. “I did so many things wrong now that I think about it. ‘Christie’s Ideal Victim, 1986’; there are five things that make the perfect victim. ‘She, always a she, is physically weaker than the attacker’; gold mine if she’s a kid or a grandma, so I did that wrong. ‘The victim is doing a respectable task when the attack happens’: I was having a mental breakdown, so debatable. ‘Next, the attack happens in a place she could not be blamed for being in’; I was in a sketchy as fuck bathroom in the basement, so yeah, my fault. ‘The offender is physically stronger’; holy shit, he was, so I did that one right! ‘Finally, the victim has no prior relationship to the offender; he is a stranger.’ Well shit, I failed the perfect victim test.”

He sighed, saying your name.

“I’m not done.” You said, voice shaking. “Now I added my own qualifications to this obviously bullshit concept we were taught for ‘educational purposes despite how out of date it is’. What did I add, you’re asking? Only pretty girls, only nice girls, only virgin girls, and only white girls. Those are the only girls that apparently are the perfect victims to a lot of people. It’s been almost forty years, and there are still people who believe it.”

Robby’s gaze never left you, even when you looked away from him, talking to the actual brick wall in front of you. Yet…he listened. He was quiet after you finished, but only to let you breathe.

“I didn’t know any of that.” He finally said. “It’s horrible.”

You nodded. “I’m sorry, that teaching just always stuck with me and…”

“It came out tonight?” He asked.

“Yeah…” You brought your knees to your chest. “I’m gonna have to see Trent and Kimi again. Court, I think.”

“If you ever need-.”

“-I need a cigarette,” you tried to diffuse the pain, despite bringing it up. “that’s what I need.”

He scoffed. “Should’ve asked me five years ago. Anything else I could get for you?”

“Is there a Jewish prayer that kills someone?”

“You smoke and you’re religious?” He feigned shock, but you could still see inklings of it on his face. “Didn’t know you had so many secrets.”

“Answer the question, Robinavitch.”

“No.” He huffed. “Not that I know of, at least.”

“I’m not really religious either.” You sighed. “After the day I had though…”

He nodded. “I’ve been there.”

“You’ve been a girl lost in her twenties before?”

“I’m a son-of-a-bitch in my fifties, and I’m still lost.”

As if you shared a mind, you both laughed. It wasn’t loud or even jubilant; more so just an acknowledgement of how weird the whole situation was. There was a sense of familiarity with how you were talking to him.

How you and Michael joked around but also were capable of serious conversations, whether it was about personal struggles or just current events.

Now though? As you sat in an alleyway just outside of the place you discovered who Robby really was? There was more of an honesty; a shameless one.

“Makes sense,” you wheezed. “we fucked each other.”

Although he was getting over his laughter, he still asked. “What’s that got to do with anything?”

Your smile began to fall, but somehow, you couldn’t lose it fully. Call it insanity, or call it nerves, you still spoke with it.

“I mean…I actually liked you.” You admitted, and instead of feeling horrible, it felt better to finally say it. “I slept with you because you were nice, and you made me feel safe, not just because I had an itch or something. I knew we wouldn’t date or anything, but…I just really liked you.”

Robby had a horrible poker face when it came to women; he told you that when you first caught him smiling in a way you’d never seen a man smile at you before. Now, he was looking at you, face fallen into…not exactly pity, but something alike to it.

He took a deep breath. “I didn’t mean to hurt you; it was never my intention.”

“…You kissed my forehead the next morning, then left. I saw the note saying I could stay but…I felt stupid just waiting for you, so I went home. You didn’t leave me your number or anything else, then I didn’t see you again.” You sounded more confused than wounded. “I know I was stupid. You probably just wanted to feel younger and-.”

“-It mattered to me.” He stopped you. “Yes, there’s no way we can keep this up; I’m sorry, but it’s the truth. Don’t think that I regretted it, or that it didn’t mean anything to me. I liked you too.”

You genuinely didn’t expect him to be so vocal about it. It would’ve been easier for him to just nod and agree that it was nothing more than a primal feeling; no emotions on his side. Still, there he was, openly admitting it all.

You breathed in through your nose, despite how strange it felt. “I wish I was born the same year you were.”

Robby kept his eyes on your form, and when you glanced over at him, you wondered if his response would be ‘Me too.’

But it wasn’t.

“I wouldn’t have been good for you.” He confessed.

“Why not?”

He said your name, shaking his head. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

You swallowed, knowing that he meant it. “Sorry.”

“No, it’s…” He sighed heavily. “You’re going to find the right person one day, and they’ll be your age-.”

A laugh left your mouth. Except, it wasn’t a spiteful or doubtful one, even Robby could tell. It was the most genuine and honest one you felt that day.

“I fucking knew it!” You bragged.

He snorted. “What?”

“You had to have had that line in the holster or something.”

“Maybe I’ve just seen too many movies.” He laughed with you.

The both of you just sat there in the peculiar change of emotions. Of course it wasn’t the strangest thing to happen to you that day. To add to it, you said.

“I’m wearing your ex-girlfriend’s pants. She and Dr. King know, by the way.” He snapped his gaze at you, and you thought he was going to go into cardiac arrest. You shrugged. “Collins she…it’s probably just because I got the shit beaten out of me, but she acted like she didn’t care.”

Robby looked back at the brick wall, taking it all in. After a while he said. “That’s why she looked like she was gonna kill me a second ago.”

You snorted. “When?”

“Before you ran out here.” He clarified. “Jack saw you, I told him I’d talk to you because he was technically on duty, Heather comes out guns blazing saying something like ‘Don’t say a word to her,’. She tried to go after you, but I managed to get her to go home.”

You pursed your lips, surprised at Collins’ protectiveness. “Wanna divide and conquer? I talk to King, you talk to Collins?”

He nodded. “Sounds good. You uh…you gonna be alright? Going home?”

Looking down at your shoes, you took a bit to think. You didn’t really want to go back to your apartment, and maybe Kimi would stay home with her mom…but you were immature, you had just been beaten to a pulp, and you didn’t want to talk to her on the small chance she was at your apartment.

“Yeah, I mean…” It was second nature to avoid the conflict, but you caught yourself. “I know Trent won’t be there, hopefully never again, but I don’t know how I feel around Kimi. I was a piece of shit for what I said, but I don’t know how safe I’ve felt around her for a while. I told her how I felt about her boyfriend, she saw how he treated both of us, and I feel horrible she’s with him, but I won’t be collateral damage again.”

Robby nodded, taking a deep breath. “I might be overstepping, and I get if it’s a last resort, but if you ever feel unsafe at your apartment, you’re welcome to sleep at mine.”

You furrowed your brow, scoffing. “Is that really professional?”

“Just be respectful; and unless you’re dying, you’re on the couch.”

You both chuckled, the overall day only becoming more ludicrous by the second. You decided to add onto it.

“So, save for Collins and King,” you held your pinky up. “swear to never tell anyone about us?”

He snickered. “Really?”

“Yeah, mutually assured destruction. Whoever tells, has their pinky broken.”

 “Makes perfect sense.” He locked his pinky with yours. “Do we have to swear on anything or-?”

“-Nope.” You let go. “Pinky sworn.”

It felt natural after that, how you moved to hug him with no hesitance. He responded in kind, enveloping you into his arms. It felt…different. When you thought of it, the only times you really embraced were in moments of desperation, passion, even.

Now, it was quiet. For the first time that day, you felt at peace; both in your body, and inside his arms.

When he pressed his lips to your cheek just for a second, while it brought back memories, it was simply innocent.

He pulled away first from you, and you rubbed your eyes. “Thanks. Sorry about everything.”

“Don’t be.” He said. “‘Let everything happen to you, beauty and terror. Just keep going, no feeling is final.’”

“Oh hell yeah,” you smiled. “Jojo Rabbit.”

He furrowed his brow, not hiding his amusement. “Rainer Maria Rilke.”

“Yeah, it was in Jojo Rabbit.”

“Really? Haven’t seen it.”

“Oh, you’d love it. It’s about a little German boy in the 1940s who has an imaginary friend, and you’ll never guess who it is!”

“I don’t think I want to know who it is.” He chuckled.

You hummed, feeling just a little better. You looked around the alleyway, feeling as if you weren’t outside of an ER. “No wonder this is Jack’s favorite place to have a mental breakdown.”

“I would’ve thought the roof?”

As soon as the words left his mouth, you saw that he wanted to take them back.

You blinked. “The…what?”

Well, there was something you had to talk to Jack about. It certainly wouldn’t be that night; too much to unpack.

“You didn’t hear it from me.” Was all Robby said, standing up and holding his hand out to you.

Sighing, you took it. “Think he’ll say more to me, or to you?”

“Whenever I find him up there,” he pulled you up. “I just guilt trip him into not jumping because that’s a horrible way to start a shift.”

“On parr with finding out you screwed the new hire?”

“Don’t push it.”

You snickered. “I’ll leave you alone. Have a good night.”

He wished you one as well, watching you go back into the ER, carrying all of your belongings. It seemed about as chaotic as you had known the night shift to be; although, it wasn’t even seven-thirty. There was one more person you wanted to see before you left.

Turns out though, there were two more who needed to speak with you.

“We’re not gonna ask if you’re okay because you’ll probably have an aneurysm.” Trinity Santos came up to you with Dennis Whitaker at her side. Her hair was down.

 “Okay?” You snickered, then looked at Whitaker. “Hey…thanks. I’m sorry your nose is fucked.”

He shook his head, offering a shy smile. “Don’t be. My brothers have hit me harder.”

“Aw, he’s just being modest.” Santos draped her arm around his shoulder. “He’s a regular ol’ Superman.”

“More like Clark Kent.” He corrected.

“Same person, Huckleberry.” She counter corrected. “Okay, so medically speaking, how are you doing?”

You pursed your lips. “Medically, my nose isn’t broken but always needs an icepack, I kinda have a headache, and my ribs hurt. Emotionally…everything.”

Santos nodded, a forlorn feeling upon her face; but somehow, you didn’t feel like she was pitying you. “I was about to beat the shit out of that guy if I didn’t have a baby coming in at the same time for a spinal tap. But we-Dennis has a proposition for you.”

All eyes fell on the poor boy whose nose bore a similar, semi-swollen resemblance to yours. He stumbled a little until he found the right words.

“We sometimes get together after a shift and watch a movie to decompress. We get food, and the person who had the worst day gets to choose the movie. We uh…we kinda appointed you, if you want to come. It wouldn’t be anything huge, just the three of us. That might be too much, and maybe you’re exhausted-.”

“-Oh,” you interrupted, crossing your arms. “so the only reason you’re inviting me to this secret movie club is because I got the shit beaten out of me?”

“No!” Whitaker gasped. “I-we just thought it’d be good to help overall after a stressful shift-.”

“Huckleberry,” Santos snickered. “she’s just fucking with you.”

He paused. “Oh…”

You smiled. “I’d love to. I uh…I technically shouldn’t be driving but my car’s here-.”

“-Do you mind stopping at Target to get some snacks?” Santos asked.

Pleasantly surprised by her question, you chuckled. “Um, no?”

“No sorry,” she laughed at herself. “I mean that I’ll drive your car, but is it okay if we get snacks on the way back to my place?”

“Oh! Yeah, sounds good.”

“Great!” She slipped her keys out of her pocket, holding them out to Whitaker. “You remember how to drive something other than a tractor, right?”

He made a face. “I’ve never driven a tractor before.”

“Bullshit, you told me you did.”

He shrugged. “Nebraska doesn’t even exist, why would I know how to drive a tractor?”

The conversation from earlier that day came to mind, and you saw in his eyes that he had it in mind as well. You smiled, turning your face down to hide it from the world. It had been a while since you had an inside joke with someone.

Whitaker took the keys. “I’m just kidding. Yeah, I’ll meet you guys there.”

“See you soon.” You wished him goodbye. Santos gave him a nod before he left. She turned to you, a shit eating grin on her face. You frowned. “What?”

“Nothing.” She shrugged. “Ready to go?”

“Actually, I need to talk to someone first.”

“Who?”

Ah fuck it, You decided.

“My stepdad.” You answered. “He works the nightshift.”

“Damn! Who?”

You smirked. “You’re welcome to follow me at a distance to see.”

She made a face as if debating it. “Nah, I’ll give you privacy.”

Smiling, you nodded. “I’ll see you out front?”

“See you.”

She left through the doors into Chairs. Sighing, you began your search for Jack. On the way, you said a quick ‘hello’ to Ellis and went to check up on the little girl who had a bee sting. She was still there, speaking with the same police officer you had.

Your name cut through the air, and you looked to your right, seeing Jack approaching you. He wore the same look on his face you’d only seen on parents who had just lost their child in a supermarket only to soon find them.

“Hey.” He greeted once he stood in front of you.

“Hi…” You said. “Uh…is it okay to talk? I don’t know if you’re busy-.”

“-Unless Death himself comes into the ER, we’re gonna talk.”

Jack Abbott had technically only been a father for a few years (who knows if you can even count all of them considering you barely were at home after high school?), but he somehow managed to perfectly blend his strict tone into one of reassurance.

So, the two of you walked into the breakroom, and he spoke first.

“How was the shift?”

You smiled, sitting at the table. “Aside from getting the shit beaten out of me by my roommate’s boyfriend? Pretty okay.”

He sat beside you. “That’s a win in my book.”

That was the thing you and Jack had in common the second your mom introduced you to him: dark humor. You never hated him, but you never exactly got close with him. Maybe it was time to change that?

“Are you still in any pain?” He asked.

“Nose is getting a little better but is still sore, and so are my ribs.”

Jack nodded. “You got a ride home tonight?”

“Yeah, I’m actually gonna go hang out with Santos and Whitaker at their place, and then…” You couldn’t finish it. What were you going to do? You didn’t have the strength anymore to lie, saying you’d drive back to your apartment where Kimi might be.

You refused to stay with Robby, maybe Santos and Whitaker would take pity on you?

“I don’t know.” You choked on your words. “I said some horrible things to Kimi, but she also blamed me for what Trent did, and I…I don’t wanna go back to the apartment.”

Jack’s eyes softened. “You still got a key to the house?”

“Yours? Yeah.”

 “If you want to, your room’s still the same.”

You hadn’t slept in it since your mother died. You’d sometimes drive home from college and sleep over, so both your mom and Jack left it alone.

“You didn’t change it?” You couldn’t believe it.

He shrugged. “It’d take more effort to turn it into something else. I mean, it’s probably dusty as hell, but your bed’s still there, all your weird little trinkets and stuff from high school too.”

You scoffed. “It’s only weird to you, grandpa.”

“Sure, Jan.”

Both of you snickered, falling back into a rhythm you hadn’t known you lost. As it died down, Jack asked.

“But, you’re doing okay, kiddo? If you want to talk about it-.”

“-Not tonight.” You interrupted. “It’s just a lot but…you’ve probably seen worse.”

Jack looked like he wanted to say more, but he held back. It would’ve led down a farther hole of trauma, which you both knew you could not deal with. Instead, he asked. “You do anything I taught you?”

You grinned. “Yeah. Kicked his knee in and got creative with what I had around me.”

“Your pad, I heard.”

“It was his own fault he dabbled in fuckery!”

“Certainly was.”

“What…happened to him?”

Jack’s face grew sullen. Breathing through his nose, he said. “I got to him first and Robby had to pry me off. Bastard’s lucky he didn’t get a taste of my right foot.”

Damn…he was serious.

“Police took him away; I didn’t even get a slap on the wrist because he assaulted both you and a student doctor.”

You nodded. “Thank you...”

“Don’t mention it.”

You both fell into a tender yet awkward silence. There was so much but also nothing to say. It was actually Jack who tried to end the conversation.

“Well,” he stood. “I don’t wanna keep you from your new friends-.”

“-Would you wanna get breakfast sometime?”

It just fell from your mind and out of your mouth. You were hungrier than you thought and also wanted to spend time with him.

Despite working several shifts with Jack, and knowing him for years, you never saw him so surprised. Still, his face soon relaxed into one of mild glee.

“I’d love to, kiddo. How does tomorrow after my shift sound?”

Your eyes grew. “Really? You wouldn’t want to sleep in or something?”

“There’s nothing else I’d rather do.”

You weren’t going to cry, you had decided. Your stepfather, and essentially everyone else who had comforted you that night, were making it incredibly difficult.

“Do you need a hug?” He asked upon seeing your face; and most likely your attempt at repressing tears.

You shook your head. “I’ll bawl my eyes out again, and I gotta be somewhere after this.”

He hummed. “Wouldn’t want to embarrass you now, would I?”

“Well…” You placed your hand on his shoulder, attempting to still have physical affection without being overly vulnerable.

The awkward act, alongside a beat of silence, caused a fit of giggles to erupt between both of you. You must’ve laughed this hard with him at some point, but you couldn’t remember.

“I have therapy tomorrow at ten-thirty anyway.” He said, recovering.

“How’s it been?” You asked.

“Fine, nothing out of the ordinary.”

You nodded. “I’m really proud of you for going. I don’t think I’ve ever told you that.”

He shifted in his seat but smiled. “Honestly, with what you’d been studying, it helped convince me. It sounds like the bare minimum for everyone if they’re able to go.”

Smiling, you teased. “You’re doing great; you’re raising my standards for men.”

“That a fact?”

You hummed. “If you didn’t start going to therapy, I would’ve married the first military man who asked, even if I only met him three weeks ago.”

“Hell no,” he played along. “eight weeks, I told you that.”

“Would you have proposed to my mom that quickly if you met her before you were deployed?”

“I would’ve married your mother sooner because I loved her.”

“Did you think that while you were dating her?”

“Of course I did.” He leaned forward, saying your name. “There are some people in this world who know in an instant who they want to spend the rest of their life with.”

You pursed your lips, thinking back to Robby, and everyone else you had ever dated in your life. “I don’t think I’m one of them.”

“And that’s okay.”

Sighing, you looked down at your watch and immediately stood with your belongings. “I should go. Hey…thanks for everything.”

Jack got up with you. “Don’t mention it. You got a ride?”

“Yeah, Santos. She’s driving my car.”

“Are you gonna sleep at the house tonight?”

“Uh huh.” You walked out of the breakroom, and he followed. “I’ll pick you up after your shift and we can get breakfast.”

“Are you okay to drive home?”

You turned to face him in the hall as you approached the door to Chairs. “I’ll be fine. If anything bad happens, I’ll call Ellis because you don’t have your phone on you, and she can tell you. Okay?”

Jack sighed. “Just doing my job, kiddo. Have you figured out which shift you want to do?”

That was the question. You’d done a week’s worth of the night shift, and only one day shift. You enjoyed people on both, and had personal history with both of the attendings…

“I think the day mostly.” You said. “I can’t come back in tomorrow, but I will after that. I think I like the vibe more. But, I’d also like to do at least one night shift a month; maybe two.”

Independence, but also not ignoring your stepfather’s existence.

Jack smiled. “I think that sounds reasonable. Alright, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Bye, Jack.”

You’d work your way up to ‘dad’, and even the casual ‘I love you’. Still, it was more than apparent both of you were wholeheartedly fine with where you were at. Progress, that was what was being done.

Finally, you made your way out to the front of the hospital, and there was Santos, leaning against a streetlamp. She smiled, approaching you.

“How’s your daddy?”

You snorted. “He’s doing fine. How was your shift?”

She began walking to the parking lot with you beside her. “Not bad. I mean, kinda boring until your roommate and her batshit insane boyfriend came.”

“Glad they could entertain you.”

“I don’t mean it like-.”

“-No, I know.” You eased. “Do you have Mel’s number?”

She took out her phone. “Yeah, why?”

“I had her take pictures of my injuries, and I have to send them to the police.”

Santos glanced up at you. “How’d it go talking with them?”

“Eh.” You shrugged.

She chuckled, showing you her phone with Mel’s number on the screen. You created a new contact in your phone, then texted Mel as you and Santos walked.

“Hey, it’s your fellow member of the ‘Dead Moms and Unknown Dads’ club.”

Just as you typed it, you deleted it. Apparently, you still had the mental power to overthink things.

“Hey it’s,” you typed your name. “Could you please send me the pictures you took so I can give them to the police?”

It was then you decided to send another message. One completely different.

“I still owe you dinner, or lunch if you prefer. If you have any questions about what Kimi said after I blew up at her, please don’t hesitate to ask. I’m okay with talking about it. Just could you not bring it up to anyone else, please?”

You had a feeling she wouldn’t text back that night. Maybe she’d talk about it tomorrow, or maybe she never wanted to hear about it? Still, you’d cross that bridge when you came to it.

“All good?” Santos asked.

You smiled, putting your phone back in your pocket. “Good.”

“If you ever need help with legal shit, I’ve kinda been around the block with it.” She reassured. “But I know you’re probably smart enough to handle it if you want.”

“Thanks.”

The two of you walked in silence, apparently you had parked in Kansas, your car was so far away. To fill the space, Santos said.

“Whitaker likes you.”

You looked over at her, a funny look on your face. You knew what she meant but tried to deflect. “Yeah, I like him too. He got decked in the face so I wouldn’t.”

“No.” She shook her head, chuckling. “You didn’t hear it from me, but I think he wants to ask you out.”

There it was. Even with all the shit that happened to you that day, there were good things. You reconnected with your stepfather, you somehow managed to have the most mature “breakup” with a guy twice your age, his ex-girlfriend took care of you despite knowing about all the shit you had done, and you made new friends for the first time in a while.

Still…it was all so much.

“I don’t think I’m ready to date anyone right now.” You admitted. “I’ve got a lot going on.”

“No, of course.” She said. “I just wanted to give you a heads up, just in case if you weren’t feeling that way towards him, or if you were-.”

“-Trinity,” you stopped her, smiling. “I’m good.”

She nodded. “Right.”

Even with an abrupt ending, there was not a hint of discomfort. After finally finding your car, you thought it would’ve all been over when.

“Hey, doctor Robby.” Santos greeted.

You drew your head up at his name and saw him approaching the car beside yours. This whole time…he had parked beside you and hadn’t even known. He rose his brow as if he had the same thought process as you.

“Hey, how’re you two?” He asked.

She shrugged. “We’re just dying down for the night, you?”

“Same. I have a date with my bed.” He chuckled, then looked right at you. “Are you doing alright? I can only guess how many times you’ve been asked that.”

You smiled. “Several, but I’m doing better now.”

“That’s good. Are you okay to drive?”

Santos jumped in before you could answer. “Nah, I’m driving little miss Starshine.”

“Starshine?” He asked, trying to hold back his amusement.

You hid your face in your hands. “Oh god.”

“How’d you get that from Dr. Santos’ extensive list of nicknames?” He questioned.

Santos took that as her cue. “She had too much caffeine one night shift, and both Whitaker and I were greeted by her.”

“It’s not that funny.” You rolled your eyes.

Robby disagreed. “I for one think it’s hilarious.”

Santos jumped in. “Please say you’re in tomorrow. I was gonna rely on her to be entertaining, but Kiara ordered her to stay home.”

He clicked his tongue. “Sorry to disappoint, but it’s my day off.”

She sighed. “At least tell me you’re gonna do something useful.”

“I was thinking of going to a coffee shop, maybe.”

“Where?” You asked, curiosity bettering you.

Robby pursed his lips. “I heard Big Dog is good. Ever been?”

You tilted your head, managing to hide how perplexed you were. “Yeah, a few times. It’s alright.”

“I might try that one.”

All you could do was smile, not knowing his intentions. It could have been bait for a reconnection, it could have been a way of saying goodbye to a fantasy, or it could have just been him making conversation.

You tossed the keys to Santos. “Let’s go before Target closes.”

She smirked, unlocking the door. “You think I drive slow?”

“Maybe.”

Robby stepped in. “Please don’t get either of yourselves killed.”

“Yes sir, Dr. Robinavitch sir.” Santos snorted, getting into the car. “Come on, Starshine.”

You gave Robby one last smile before ducking into the passenger seat. After buckling up, Santos plugged her phone into the aux chord.

“Don’t play trash.” she said, starting the car and putting it into reverse.

Snickering, you put on your favorite song. As Santos pulled out of the parking spot, you made eye contact with Robby. Not knowing what else to do, you waved to him.

He waved back.

While Santos drove, you couldn’t help but ponder the day. It was one of the worst, there was no doubt about that, and it ended with more questions than answers. Yet, where that would leave you in a deep storm of turmoil, you decided to weather it.

If all of that happened in a day, who’s to say what would happen in a year?

Maybe you’d still be in Pittsburgh, maybe you’d be in a different continent.

Maybe you’d still be single, maybe you’d be married.

Maybe you’d still be roommates with Kimi, maybe you’d never talk to her again.

Maybe you’d still work the day shift, maybe you'd switch back to the night.

The best part?

You didn’t have to know right away.

[bokettochild]

Do you have some hcs for Legend? I'd love to hear your thoughts on him :)

So, so many of them!

he's far-sighted! Due to a lot of adventuring and focusing on the far away stuff, he's actually trained his eyes to always be focused on far away things, and so now he struggles to see things clearly close up. he has specticals for it (Impa took him to get some when they were in Labrynna together) but he rarely remembers to wear them, and doesn't like to out on the road to begin with, as he's worried they'll break. he tends to forget he's wearing them when at his house though, so Ravio's really the only one who sees him wear them more than he sees him without them.

he's totally a bit of a history nerd, because I said so. It was more just stories when he was little, but between frequently interacting with ancient artifacts and architecture, as well as time traveling himself, Legend's become somewhat fascinated with history. he likes having all the answers (as most Links do) but for him, that includes knowing where things came from, why they were made, and so on

he's also a horse girl, much like Twilight and Warriors, but doesn't travel with a mount because it's less convenient. While having a mount in a Zelda game DOES make avoiding foes much easier, it also gets frustrating when you have to go find them again after doing however many things (point in case, my BotW horses are scattered to the four winds All The Time). Legend, who frequently is getting up and dropped in random places, doesn't like that this would leave any of his mounts alone in the middle of nowhere and thus doesn't take his own horse many places as a result. Said horse is Puini (OoA manga) and is currently housed either at the castle or with his grandparents (OoS manga). He dotes on her exceedingly, and being around Epona now reminds him of her a lot. Being as she's a literal war horse though (trained for battle with a knight) he has an inkling she would't quite like the mares of the rest of his brothers and leaves her out of the conversation when they bring up mounts

he's the OPPOSITE of someone with claustephobia! I have this fic I'm writing in my head right now where the boys finish their adventure just to get collectively dropped at Lon Lon with no way home, and have to adapt to "normal" life. A chapter of said fic (if I write it) would likely focus on the fact that Legend literally grew up in dungeons, like, his games have the most dungeons of all the Zelda games, as well as some of the biggest focus on dungeons, and as a result, they likely feel more familiar to him than the open world (and oddly safer, since they're predictable and follow Rules that the outside world doesn't have). I like to think that small, narrow, dark places would actually be soothing for him, to the point that, in the theoretical fic, it freaks the rest out when they find out he keeps purposefully climbing into dried up wells for some space when he's homesick. Maybe it's the inner bunny instincts, maybe it's a pre-existing trait that influenced the magic that made him a bunny to begin with, but Legend tends to burrow, and feels safest when he's in smaller, darker places.

He loves puzzles. I think it was Squido who said that we should let the boys enjoy their adventures, no? Let them look back fondly and smile at some things? For Legend, I think the thing he loved most about adventures with the problem solving, and puzzles are the best sorts of problems because you're guaranteed that there IS an answer. So, for someone who grew up doing puzzles most of his life (dungeons), they're a familiar thing for him and a challenge for him to face without actually endangering himself. he likes mind puzzles and logic puzzles mainly, but picture puzzles are fun too for him

Apple snob. He knows all the apple types, probably bred two of his own apple breeds somewhere in his life, and he has opinions on all of them

Nature boy. Not like Wild and Hyrule who like to get lost in it, no, Legend just likes existing in nature. He grew up on Orchard Hill, so gardening and husbandry are something he was raised to before the hero shtick, and he finds a certain sort of peace in gardening/plants. Also, he travels a lot, so he spends a lot of time by himself out of doors. Granted, that's also where a lot of the bad stuff happens to him, but the good outweighs the bad and I think he genuinely would love to go hiking or do nature walk sorts of things if adventure didn't scoop him up every time he left the house

Really big dancer. Mostly because of Din, partially because of Marin, and Cadence definitely had an influence too. Unfortunately, his mental metronome is set to the music pulse of Octavio's magic so he sort of just...can't keep a beat well without a lot of time to adjust. Once he's got it though he's killer

He can play a lot of instruments, but I really like the idea that the violin is his favorite. yes, he's got that precious ocarina from the dream world, and he learned to play one of those first, but like the idea that Uncle Aflon or maybe one of his friends was a violinist, and Legend just got dead set as a kid on that particular instrument. It's also a very diverse and emotional instrument, which grants him a lot of freedom of expression he'd usually not allow himself

He didn't speak his first word until he was four. Uncle Aflon kind of accepted early on that he might be mute, but as it happened, he just didn't feel the need to use words to communicate, since what he wanted was either always evident or could be figured out without him having to speak much. I think he was likely either mostly silent as a child, using mainly sign or other nonverbal communications, but if you want to make it angsty, I also like to say that it could be because his throat got messed up by an illness he had when he was very small so talking was painful for him. I HC that that changed after he traveled to Labrynna, because the memaid's curse didn't just give him a tail, but also effected/altered his voice, making speech easier for him but also making it to where he can actually cham people with his voice if he's not careful (which perhaps contributed to him becoming a harsher spoken person because then the charm is less likely to slip through on accident if he's being a jerk)

Continuing the speech HCs, I think Legend's tendency towards speech is impacted heavily by wo he's around. if it's anyone he met prior to Labrynna, or in Labrynna, he defaults to mostly sign, whereas if he met them after, he tends to usually use spoken words

Legend' far more expressive and open with sign language, as tone is very important and easier to navigate for him. In essence, it is his first language and the one he's most comfortable with

That said, with people he's truly comfortable with, legend's just straight up non-verbal. he doesn't feel the need to speak and usually just uses facial expressions and exaggerated motions to express himself. Being able to shut down the speech center of his brain for a bit is a huge relief and since those he knows well know how to read him just fine like that, it doesn't make much of a difference either way

As y'all know, I champion the Fable and Legend are siblings HC, though I know it's neither cannon, nor likely to be cannon in LU (pretty sure JoJo confirmed it's not true). Still, I really really like the twins thing!

On the note of being twins! You know how sometimes, with twins, one comes out stronger than the other? Yeah, that was Fable. Legend's actually the smaller/weaker twin, though not by much. he was a very sickly baby though. Oddly enough though, despite being physically weaker than his sister, he actually got the stronger of the magic between the two of them! It might even be possible that the strength of his magic might have been the reason his body is weaker; because housing that much power can put a significant strain on a body. Either way, Fable and he joke about it frequently, saying that as he's got stronger Holy magic, he should have been the princess, and since she's physically stronger, she should be the one with the sword. He doesn't mean it though, and is only playing along. Fable kinda sorta really does mean it though)

It's less focused on by the fandom as a whole, but in case you didn't know: Legend is more than just a polyglot! In his games alone, we see that he can hear and understand not only most trees (not just guardian trees like the Deku and Maku trees, but the normal ones around Kakariko too), but also animals, spirits, and literally forces of nature! Heck, the literal SEASONS coo about how adorable he is when you meet them in OoS! That said, I think he learned pretty early on that this isn't normal. Uncle started getting really worried when he saw and heard Legend speaking to what seemed to be thin air on multiple occasions, so he learned to just not answer unless there aren't other humans/hylians around

Continuing the previous one, this does mean that Legend has to frequently resist asking for directions from various passing by birds and animals, and instead just bites his tongue and lets Twilight go off scouting because explaining that he can hear voices no one else can hear is just....ot the best of ideas

Despite the rest of the heroes' being under the impression that Legend was an only child, he actually has Middle Child energy. this is because he grew up with Fable, Ralph, the Oracles, and Ghanti bossing him around/messing with him, but he also helps look after his neighbor Gully, who I fully believe he loves the same way that Wind loves Aryll.

While I have Gully on the mind, I think Smith and his wife have mentally adopted Legend and all but see him as their eldest, since Bertha (Smith's wife), also had a hand in helping Aflon, newly appointed caretaker to an infant he knows nothing about minding, with learning about babies. Legend however, dense as he is, still fully believes they just put up with him for their actual son's sake, since Gully clearly adores him so much

This shows up a lot in my fics, but I like the idea that Legend loves the stars. Like, tehy're the same, always there, no matter where you go. he's traveled a lot and been tossed into random locations where everything is different, yet whenever he looks up, there the stars are, the same as always, just from a different angle. I think Uncle Aflon taught him the various constellations when he was small, and maybe when Legend was lonely in his adventures he started talking to them like they could hear them (and heck, if the seasons can hold a conversation, then why couldn't the stars?). Also, you know the thing about how if you're deep enough underground and you look up through a hole you can see the sky? Yeah, he's more used to night skies and stars than sunlight

Despite being a traveler, he's actually got a palish complexion for his skin tone, since he spends most of his time underground. He's also a bit sensitive to sunlight all around and gets a headache fairly quickly when he's out in it. He hates noon time and would rather be sleeping than awake when the suns at its zenith

I've seen this one around a bit, but I really love the idea that legend enjoys wearing his uncle's old clothes around the house when he's between adventures. he probably keeps Uncle's pipe tobacco and other things stored with the clothes so they still smell like him even after all these years

He's entirely unaware of the fact that being on regular speaking terms with the Golden Goddesses, the Fates, the Seasons, the freaking Triforce, and most royalty is uncommon for a hero. He's aware most people don't do it, but it's sort of jarring for him when he realizes that the other heroes' dealings are limited to mostly mortals, and lowly ones at that, and that when they do speak of the goddesses, it's usually with some sort of reverence. Meanwhile Legend will and has insulted Din to her face for picking on him about his height, gossips with Farore whenever they run into each other, and the only one he kinda treats with reservation/respect is Nayru because they sort of faught each other that one time and while it wasn't her faught, it still makes things a bit awkward at times

He tends to chew on things when he's restless/agitated. He's not even aware he's doing it half the time, and has chewed his sleeves, hair, and various tools at different times. The Chain have designated bowls (Sky got bored) and his has very clear signs of gnawing around the edges. Same with any wooden spoons he's given (although, being as Uncle raised him with manners, Legend does carry his own silverware at all times, and thus rarely needs to borrow from others (it's a medieval manners thing))

Unlike the stereotype of men when they're sick, Legend actually gets really quiet when he's sick. Hyrule's the same way and it's mostly to draw the least attention to themselves when they're not in fighting condition. Usually though, he tends to take the 'sleep through it' approach, which is really a very poor choice, but as far as he's concerned, it's worked until now so he's not changing it

I think Legend's a very physical person, someone who likes to be able to touch and feel various things, and generally enjoys the idea of physical affection, but in reality balks at it because it usually catches him off guard. That said, he do be touching all the stuff and animals.

Gets weird about dodongos. he knows that the majority of them are threats, but there's always a part of him that wonders if some of them are like Dimitri, and it can be tricky for him to fight them at times

The early Zelda games are sort of wack honestly, but the fact that he's technically a telepath gets brushed aside way too much, y'know? Like, Legend regularly has conversations with Zelda and Sahasralah from miles away, IN HIS HEAD, and only uses certain stones to strengthen that connection, not forge it to begin with! Now, he might just be receptive to telepathy, maybe it's a twin thing (I have a WIP about that) but I think it'd be really funny if he's just sitting on that little skill and never brings it up because linking up (lol) thoughts with someone can be very overwhelming when your brain is already moving a thousand miles a minute, and trying to process thoughts and feelings that aren't his own gives him a migraine. So he just.... doesn't. Unless Zelda reaches out first or he needs to tell her something important.

He's terrible about self care and remembering his own needs, but will, can, and does scold others for doing the same. He doesn't even care that he's a huge hypocrite, not much anyway

Magpie. Boy loves his shiny things. Like, he doesn't technically need everything he has, and he knows most of it will never be used, but if it's pretty he keeps it anyway

I feel like Legend'a also got a bit of food insecurity. When he was a kid, freshly thrust into his first adventure and with the kingdom turned against him, he didn't actually know how to find his own food and ended up going hungry a LOT during that first adventure (which might have stunted his growth a bit). Since then, he's made a point to not only educate himself on what's safe to eat and what's not, but he also taught himself how to preserve and prepare long lasting foods, which he keeps a huge stockpile of. He also doesn't trust any food he hasn't watched be prepared unless it's made by someone he trusts, and even then sometimes his anxiety/paranoia gets the better of him. There were a few neighbors who tried slipping something in the meals they gave him under the pretense of taking pity, when in reality they planned to turn him over to the knights, so he's always cautious now

He's actually less wary and guarded outside of Hyrule than he is inside of it. Lorule is an exception because it's a version of Hyrule, but any other country is used to a very different version of him because Legend isn't always suspecting foul play in other kingdoms who have nothing to gain from his death.

He cannot handle blood well. Yeah, he's a hero, yeah, he fights a lot, and yes, he's frequently injured in battle or dungeons, but watching his Uncle bleed to death left him with a kind of hemophobia and he tends to have mini panic attacks/breakdowns when exposed to large amounts of blood. He hates it, but can't control it, and hasn't found a way to overcome it at all

After spending a long time at sea after Koholint, trying to find his way home, Legend actually really dislikes the taste of fish. He had to rely on his mer form a lot getting home, and fish has been ruined forever because it was his only choice for food, and eating it raw (mer) did make him sick a few times (he's still hylian at his core) so now he tends to get queasy when eating fish, just on reflex

He's a dead ringer for his late mother, to the point where people who knew her sometimes double take

I know Warriors is supposed to be the pretty one, but considering Legend's canonically had forces of nature comment on how pretty he is (I think it was Summer specifically, but it could have been one of the other Seasons), I think he's got a type of beauty that, at the least, appeals to the supernatural/magical beings. He's unaware of this though, although he'll always say Fable is one of the most beautiful people in the world, all while unawares of the fact that they're nearly identical looks-ways

He likes to doodle. Drawing more so, but e enjoys both depending on what mood he's in

Logically and artistically minded. Numbers bother him though (something Ravio, who is the reverse, definitely abuses)

He's one of those people who genuinely will be happy if you get him a candle. He's got everything anyone could need, but something that smells nice, offers minimal light, and he;s always running out of? Oh he loves them. He's very picky about what scents he'll accent though because his nose is very sensitive

He cracks his knuckles and rolls his shoulders a lot when he's bored/tense/stressed- basically all the time LOL

he uses sewing/stitchwork as a way to try and relax himself after a long day. it works half the time. the other half his thread gets tangled and he gets very worked up LOL

Secretly admired Sky's skills in embroidery, but doesn't have the patience to practice anything complicated

he loves to teach people things, but constantly assumes people won't listen, so he tends to break things down to bare basics rather than going into the nitty gritty like he enjoys.

Such a big sweet tooth

Genuinely hates the feeling of fur. Twilight's pelt bothers him, not just because the guy who turns into a wolf is literally wearing a wolf's skin, but also because the feeling of fur, treated or no, displeases him most of the time. He only likes fur when it's on something alive and moving, and even then, he's picky about it

Has a extreme fear of dogs. It's both from being chased by the soldiers' dogs, but also various dog-like things in the Dark World. Wolfie used to make him very uncomfortable before he realized it was Twilight

Fall boy. The other seasons would be offended if they knew he had a favorite, but I think his little apple farming, leaf crunching, bright color enjoying self would just adore the fall.

he LOVES the rain. His arthritis acts up something awful when it rains, but when it's not too bad he enjoys being out in the rain. That said, he HATES thunderstorms, less because of being struck by lightning (LA) and more because of the storm the night that his Uncle died

He's actually not fond of heights. He doesn't panic, but he's used to being very low, or even below the ground, so being very high above it unsettles him.

He tends to sleep curled up, he's not sure why, he just does

He's got VERY sensitive ears, both to touch and sound

Buck teeth <3

Also, freckles. He doesn't spend much time in the sun, but he does tend to freckle when he has. It also brings out some natural highlights in his hair, but he's not aware of that because it's not happened since he was small

Tends to sound like he's talking down to everyone, but in reality he's just never sure what all most people know about any given subject

Has such a soft spot for kids

He's a god-father to Bippin and Blossom's kid, and he adores that little munchkin, bordering on spoiling them.

Imma end it there because it's late and I need to be up early, but I hope this satisfied your curiosity a bit!

Thanks for the ask! I appreciate the chance to talk about all these ideas!

[alllgator-blood]

I need to ask, because of it I CAN'T SLEEP AT NIGHT.

How do you make, not only long comics, but also VERY FAST. Like- I read one part that has 2/3 like pictures and then next day are again 2 or 3 and I'm like grabing my head and just screaming HOW??? (Also these comics are very yummy and I feel like getting stabbed after each one but in a good way cuz I like being stabbed (Kallamar got a bit too relatable in that one comic 💔))

THAT'S REALLY IMPRESSIVE AND ALSO SHOCKING FOR ME. Like- what is your secret??? 🤨🤨🤨

HAHAHA OH GOD I DID NOT THINK I WAS VERY FAST BUT- I'll try to do a list of tips I thought of off the top of my head, in case any of these help you or anyone else??? I try to not gatekeep anything I do because I think the world needs more comics honestly, so I tend to ramble a lot when giving advice.

click the read more to unleash many paragraphs of tips:

Okay these tips aren't 100% about being fast but also being efficient/keeping a good pace, I hope that's okay!

1: Originally the first tip was "draw every day even if only a little bit, so you don't lose steam" but I'm sure everyone has said that at some point. So I'll just say I Pavlov myself into drawing better by having little "rituals". Liiike...the only time I have energy drinks is when I draw. Or the only time I light candles is when I draw. I have specific songs I put on when I START drawing to get me into the Zone. I find that when certain circumstances are met, it helps the time fly by 'cause I stay focused enough to keep a steady pace. After a while of doing those things when you start drawing for the day, it tricks the brain into going "oh shit, we're drawing now? aight bet" and then you just. Go

2: SETTING DEADLINES FOR SURE HELPS. It's definitely nice hearing from people that there's no Real Pressure on me when I post comics...for free...of characters I have no obligation to draw...just for the enjoyment of doing it. BUT I work best when I have a fire lit under my ass, so I set deadlines like "I need to post this on saturday/sunday at noon so the algorithm will actually let people read this comic". I usually slip those into a description so it's a very casual announcement and I feel okay with postponing it if necessary, rather than making a text post like "NEW COMIC SATURDAY!!1" and then feeling terrible if I can't finish it in time. Lmao

3: I just fuckin GO when I make a draft. Like for this new comic I'm working on, I just sat down and started drawing like the world was gonna end; there's a lot of panels with very off model characters/wonky anatomy because I just wanted to sketch enough for future me to get the idea. I try not to look back on my progress for any reason besides continuity, because then I see how long the comic's getting and I sweat bullets. Literally so many comics have been ditched because I got spooked thinking about how hard it'd be to finish them. So if you just shut your brain off and don't think about the technicalities of it, just keeping mind the story you want to tell- it's SO much easier to complete. Breaking comics into parts is ABSOLUTELY necessary for completion :')

4: Maybe the most important piece of advice I learned from a published comic artist, is that people are gonna look at your comic panels for an average of like 10-20 seconds and will move on to the next. You don't wanna spend hours on a single panel that basically only exists to convey a tiny bit of the plot. So I like to draw just *enough* to convey the general environment/mood, but not feel obliged to put in a million little extra details. I really hate doing backgrounds but my art, to me, feels incomplete without them. So I'll add like PART of a room or a general Nature area just to say hey, this takes place in the temple/outside/whatever! As long as your story is engaging and the pacing is comfortable, I don't think people will mind (or notice) if you take shortcuts.

5: I listen to specific things to help maintain a good speed while not being distracting or understimulating. During the sketch stage, I usually have something slow/instrumental going so I can focus on the little movie that plays in my head and draw what I feel like a scene would look like. It also helps not distract me from what they're saying. For tasks like lining/coming up with color schemes/reworking dialogue, I have something more stimulating playing but not like distracting, so a video essay I've already watched or fast music I already heard a lot of times. THEN for the absolute fucking slog that is the coloring stage, I blast shitty breakcore or put on an actually interesting video so I can zone out while I click my mouse ten billion times to fill in all the colors >:)

Basically, comics are funny to me because it's like a frantic fucking race to the finish line before your motivation completely abandons you. There's been a few comics where I was ABSOLUTELY sick of even looking at them, I think it was specifically "in little ways, everything stays" where the comic itself is sweet and inoffensive but OMFG. I WAS SO TIRED OF DRAWING GRASS AND REWORKING DIALOGUE. KALLAMAR AND LESHY JUST HUG IT OUT ALREADY SO I CAN STOP DRAWING.

This post probably reads like "I HATE COMICS!! I HALF ASS THEM TO GET THROUGH!!" but I really do love making them and it's kinda the only thing I like doing nowadays, so the other aspect of why I get them done fast comparatively is just that it's what I spend all my free time doing. Some comics take weeks of me working on them daily to finish them, because working on them is my main coping skill rn so it always feels worth doing. I know it can't last forever so I try to just get as many stories as I can out before my circumstances change! Maybe don't be motivated by fear of the future though. Just do these because it's fun and people love reading your comics :') I KNOW I DO

In any case- here are the lines for the beginning of the new comic, I KNOW you love the funny squid so here's mine as a kid flexing on narinder for being able to summon his crown weapon:

[dr-litcrit]

Why Stories Matter: Letting Them Loose, and the Havoc They Wreak

a deeply emotional rant about The Handmaid’s Tale’s betrayal of Nick Blaine

I started watching The Handmaid’s Tale when three seasons were already out. It was a bittersweet time: I was finishing my PhD, newly married, and we had just moved to a quiet house in the countryside. It was winter break. My husband worked in the capital during the week and came home on weekends. I stayed behind, mostly alone. We didn’t have our dog yet. We didn’t have our daughter yet.

One day, my neighbor and her little boy came over, and she suggested I try The Handmaid’s Tale. I’d read about the book but didn’t even know there was a show. I guess I was too buried in my studies. I needed something to watch in the mornings—just background noise while I made breakfast and drank my (now shocking to me) cup of coffee. I’m fully team matcha these days.

I gave it a go, assuming it wouldn’t be my thing. It seemed too heavy. I hadn’t read the novel yet, I absolutely knew what the book was about—I'm a literature professor with a PhD, after all. But our curriculum is very different, and The Handmaid’s Tale was never a required text, though it absolutely should be, considering our history. I’d read 1984, The Hunger Games, Red Rising… but I went in with zero expectations.

And then it happened.

The voices. The music. The imagery. The sheer emotional weight. It wasn’t background noise—it was everything. I couldn’t look away. I watched, completely still, barely breathing. It became my ritual, this sacred hour in the early morning dark. I devoured Season 1 and immediately bought the book. Then I rewatched Season 1 with the book’s insights. Then read the book again. Then rewatched again. It spiraled quickly, and I was loving every second.

I soon reached Seasons 2 and 3, and that’s when Nick Blaine truly became the heart of the show for me. His scenes were tiny rays of sunlight in the pitch-black cruelty of Gilead. He was hope, from the beginning. At first, I prayed he wasn’t an Eye. Then I hoped he was an Eye for a reason. And when we learned that he became one to take down corrupt Commanders after a Handmaid died under the Waterfords’ roof—it shattered me.

He didn’t yell or rally crowds. He didn’t write manifestos. His resistance was quiet, cautious, calculated—and deeply human. That made it more believable. More painful. More real. I saw myself in him.

I’m not loud. I go to protests, but I’m the one who moves with the crowd, not the one holding a megaphone. I vote. I sign petitions. I care. But I don’t scream. Nick felt like my kind of hero. Someone who shows up. Who watches. Who listens. And who acts—when it really matters.

His connection with June was the soul of the show. When he brought her that message from Luke in Canada… I don’t have words for what that scene meant to me. I rewatch it every time I’m traveling alone for work (I’m also a translator and interpreter). It gives me comfort—like a familiar voice in an unfamiliar city. At this point, Nick should be claiming frequent flyer miles for all the emotional support he's given me in hotel rooms. That kind of quiet love—that sacrifice? It stays with you, long after the credits roll.

When I ran out of episodes, I read The Testaments. It pulled me out of a COVID reading slump and helped me feel grounded during the chaos of those early lockdowns.

Season 4 was the first I watched live. Week by week. I’d rewatch each episode before the next aired. I was obsessed with the music (Adam Taylor’s score deserves awards), the cinematography, the acting. Honestly, if I could major in 'Handmaid's Tale Visual Suffering with a Minor in Symbolic Pacing,' I probably would’ve. I convinced my husband to watch with me, but I still needed those solo rewatches. As an introvert, I needed space to fully feel the show. And afterward? The podcasts. Above the Garage was (and still is) my favorite. (Eyes on Gilead lost me a bit with the inaccuracies.)

Season 5 aired while I was grieving a chemical pregnancy. The show, with its themes of motherhood and loss and strength, kept me afloat. My ritual stayed the same: episode with my husband, rewatch alone, podcast on my walks or while folding laundry. I lived and breathed this show. I analyzed every word, every glance. When Nick started acting… off… I noticed. Why was he asking June to come to New Bethlehem after risking everything to get her out of Gilead? It didn’t make sense. But I kept hope alive.

I got pregnant again soon after Season 5 ended. I was terrified the whole first trimester. Naturally, I turned to The Handmaid’s Tale. I rewatched it all during my pregnancy (well, up to Season 4—life gets busy). That’s how much it meant to me. That’s how much I needed it.

When my labor started, I tried to stay home as long as possible. In a stroke of absurd optimism, my husband put on The Handmaid’s Tale to distract me. Spoiler: it didn’t help. But I remember a scene where Nick tells Lawrence he just wants to keep June alive. That stayed with me through the pain.

Fast forward a couple days: I’m in the hospital with my newborn daughter. She’s sleeping beside me. And what pops up on my phone? A notification for a new Above the Garage episode: “Nick Blaine Character Analysis.” I listened, right there in my hospital room. No headphones. Just me, my daughter, and the voice of someone who got it. Honestly, if the nurse had walked in, I probably would’ve asked her to sit down and listen too—priorities, right?

Back home, I continued rewatching the series during those endless breastfeeding sessions. I was a hormonal mess (shoutout to postpartum life), but somehow it made me appreciate the show even more.

Now, let me tell you—I was blessed with a very difficult baby. Sleep? What sleep? Some days I couldn’t see the light at the end of the tunnel. My peace? Long stroller walks with The Handmaid’s Tale soundtrack in my ears. Or podcasts dissecting Nick’s every breath. That world became my safe place. Which, now that I think about it, is kind of ironic—finding comfort in such a bleak, brutal show. But maybe that’s what made it feel so real. So earned.

So when Season 6 was announced? I was ecstatic. Finally, we’d see Nick’s Mayday storyline in full. Finally, his years of quiet resistance would come to light. I couldn’t wait. My toddler had just entered the chaos era (Toddlerzilla unlocked), but I clung to this. Tuesdays became sacred again.

Problem: Tuesdays are my university days. I travel early to the capital to teach. Solution? Downloaded HBO to my phone. Set my alarm for 5:45. My sleep-deprived brain thought this was a solid plan—clearly, I was still in denial about how far the show would go to ruin my week before it even started. Watched episodes on the train, half-awake, headphones on, praying for a stable internet connection. If the signal failed, I hid in my office to finish the episode before lecture. Mother. Scholar. Fanatic.

When Nick “betrayed” June, I wasn’t even upset. We knew it was coming. He revealed a plan that June never supported anyway. I figured—okay, we’re moving pieces. He’ll explain next episode. We’ll be fine. It’ll all make sense.

Oh, how naive I was.

The second half of Season 6 felt like a cruel joke. It broke me. The writing wasn’t just inconsistent—it was insulting. I kept asking: who are these writers? Did they swap out mid-season? I was so disoriented I started talking to AI. My friends watched casually. I was spiraling alone.

Thank god for Easter break—and a couple of other unexpected free Tuesdays. I watched the last two episodes at home, alarm set for 6 am, praying for redemption. What I got instead? Grief. Disbelief. Rage. Intrusive thoughts. Total disillusionment.

It. Did. Not. Make. Sense.

For the first time in my life, I started commenting online. I argued. I brought receipts. I found other fans who felt the same. We built a community. We cried, raged, and analyzed together. And I realized something:

The people who care most about this show? The ones who remember every line, who understand every choice? They all love Nick. Because he’s not a coward. He’s not a villain. He’s not violent or dishonest. He’s just a man doing the best he can in a world gone wrong.

So no. I’m not watching The Testaments. They don’t deserve our viewership after this. I can't believe I'm saying this—but I'm glad it's over. The damage they did in just a few episodes was so severe that it turned years of love into something close to resentment. It's a brutal irony, really—how something that once brought me comfort and strength ended up making me feel betrayed and disillusioned.

The writers may have forgotten their own show. But we haven’t. We remember who Nick Blaine was.

And that’s why stories matter. Because even when they get ruined—when they get butchered by people who never understood their own characters—we carry the truth with us. As Philip Pullman once said, 'After nourishment, shelter and companionship, stories are the thing we need most in the world.'

And I won’t let those clueless writers take that away from me.

[museofzia]

yes, you can

sadness and frustration over shifting never is acknowledged in my mind anymore because i'm at a state of such peace that i forget how absolutely unhealthy i was mentally over shifting just a bit ago. now that it's been 2 years since i began shifting im actually reconsidering so much of my journey and my mentality and how much patience and peace this whole journey has brought me.

shifting gets really frustrating whether or not you've shifted or minishifted, and it's obviously the very big temptation to quit or take long breaks or just completely blame yourself for everything. i don't like when people begin interpreting my mentality advice as "push it away and move on." i don't want people to neglect their feelings but i don't want them diving too deep into a losing game either. balancing the understanding that shifting is completely available to you alongside the understanding that there's inevitable stress to this journey begins to allow you to open your soul to consistency and emotion. emotion is natural and there's no such thing as being "unnaturally" stressed. don't set expectations for a mind so complex! the simplicity of shifting includes understanding the possibilities of your mind, awareness, and surroundings. villainizing all of these things will not help you expand your territory, it will only make you sad. there is no point in feeling shame, laziness, or any kind of lingering bother from the things you haven't yet achieved, because if you cannot achieve it at all, how is it so available for so many people to attempt? how is there so many resources and stories to go off of? if you truly were the one person in the world who is completely unable to reality shift, ask yourself what the science behind that is. because unlike that, reality shifting has evidence. reality shifting has proof of unlimited ability. you are not formed to be isolated. you were not made for a life you are unable to live. be content with your progress and the growing of it. stop dwelling on your present and begin looking through your future, it's only when you're working that you should prioritize the second circle of presence and awareness. realizing that you've evolved from your past into your present opens your pathway to your fortune. in the end of the day, every celebration is a celebration of a new day, and a new day is still a step forward from the past. each second that passes is anew, and time is just as easy to evolve as yourself.

but with shifting, there's no external property that will push you any more than how you're meant to push yourself! you don't have to find every extraordinary resource in order to feel content with your knowledge, because your body and mind are a gallery. there is no point in limiting your own identity and villainizing imagination! every fantasy is rooted from a possibility of life. dragons are still alive, fairies are still alive, and beasts are still alive. every quality of life still breathes, even if it isn't our air.

to think from a realistic standpoint is to assume this reality's way is the only way. there is so much more you can experience! you were put in this reality to explore, just as you discovered other realities to explore as well. the opposite of infinity is zero!! and to have some progress is closer to infinity than to zero.

[physics-of-one-piece]

Everyone I see on here or Ao3 always has A LOT of words per chapter. Heck, the one you're working on has 10k+ from what you've said in that one post. How do you get all that out into one chapter? The best I can do is like, 2-3k a chapter and that feels so "meh" compared to everyone else.

First, what I want to say is that word count does not equal quality. You can say so much within 1k words just as you can say nothing in 10k words.

Heck, my most popular fic of Doffy is Risk and Reward, the fic with 4k words of Celestial Doflamingo x Reader and only like 2k of that is smut.

Nothing is "meh". All writing is great! Don't you dare talk about your writing like that! 😠

For example, I wrote just yesterday only 600 words but they are all full of feelings of a character and is that "meh"? NO! Those words are important! Whether it be plot, emotions, descriptions of something, if it is short does not make it "meh"

NO WRITING IS "MEH". Don't base the worth of your writing on the amount of words you write. It will kill your motivation bcs you'll be self-pressuring yourself to reach a "certain word count"

There is no "word count goal"

I hate that thing. Hell, I hate that it takes ME so many words to get what I want to express across in my writing!

Now, for the og question, how do we get all that out in one chapter? It takes us like a month for that. And it takes planning, too. And don't forget... ✨Motivation✨

I can't barf 10k words in one single day (okay, fine I barfed M&P Chapter 1 and wrote it in a day like I was possessed BUT that is an EXCEPTION of hyperactivity and being obsessed with Doffy 🤣)

But usually, that doesn't happen. We take breaks. We procrastinate. We got IRL duties. 10k words come from probably WEEKS or MONTHS of writing.

Editing is a big thing of how to like fit the 10k words in one chapter. I honestly HATE when I cross 10k words. When I get past that point I just HATE myself. Because editing also means PROOFREADING. And there is so many times I can re-read a scene before I never want to re-read it again in my life 🤣

10k words is like 20 pages in a Word Document, I think? That is an absolute NIGHTMARE to proofread to me.

@ohnomyhooves can say a bit more about word count cus... Hooves got the Write-Write Devil Fruit I swear to god. Also @oddmawd can also hop in and give some account on this bcs they also write quite the word count for Doffy fics (not that I'm complaining)

I myself hate reaching 10k mostly because of Editing Nightmare™ that it becomes for me.

And like... There is if you want to post it on Tumblr... From my experience, Tumblr can't take more than 12k words.

Yeah, I... I know bcs I tried. Remember, M&P Chapter 4 was originally Chapter 4+ Chapter 5 combined. I end my chapters when I feel they should end.

Write however you want and never depend on word count to tell you how good your writing or story is. That's bullshit. Writing is about having fun!

Sending love and I hope this helped a little ❤️

[watermelpm]

I'm finally onto drafting my side story! I'm just tell you guys the name bc I'm tired of saying side story/Au buuuuttt it's named "The Queens Chessboard"! I might change it but I'm also planning on publishing this one when it's done soo yeah. Also Kiwi if you want to be the Beta for this one too I would appreciate it a lot, but don't feel pressured too :3

Anyways! I don't think this story is going to be that long, maybe 7-9 chapters at most

[tannnnblogs]

Part 1 | Part 2

[khaire-traveler]

I gently pet my dog's sleeping face with a small smile. She rests peacefully with the same grounding energy that she's always had, her playful heart now tired. "There will never be another like you, even if your soul moves on to another."

[cheriafreya]

the timing??? omg Sparkle is so fun to play in this game 😭 why is the video quality shit tho

[shiawasekai]

I promised myself to return to the Nela drawing once I had finished 4 family members in the tree, then I proceed to not draw in days when I'm probably close to being done.