#so I barely met the program requirements
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Me explaining why my grades were/are shit

#applied to grad school today#but my grades sucked until recently due to the *undiagnosed PTSD*#so I barely met the program requirements#had to add in a bit to my personal statement about it#tracking tag#rambling
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Rock Hudson was the subject of my first post on this Tumblr five years ago. Since that time, more information has surfaced about his love life, so I thought he deserved an update.
Hudson might be the most famous Old Hollywood movie star who was secretly homosexual. For a gay man of his generation (born in 1925), you didn’t come out of the closet, regardless of your social standing or occupation. But by becoming a major movie star in the 1950s, it put pressure on him to maintain his secret.
Born Roy Scherer, Hudson grew up in Illinois. After his father abandoned the family, his mother got a divorce and remarried, with Roy taking his stepfather’s last name as his own— becoming Roy Fitzgerald.

Roy joined the Navy in 1944 after graduating from high school. His discharge was in 1946, and he made his way to Hollywood. A Navy buddy introduced him to a radio producer, who tried to help him get connections in film. (They lived together and became lovers.)
He eventually came under the wing of talent agent Henry Willson. Willson was famous for helping to make many handsome men become movie stars. But first, he changed their names to something more masculine and rugged. Roy became Rock Hudson.
There were rumors in Hollywood that Henry Willson required his male clients to repay him with something beyond the usual 10% to agents.
After being signed by Universal Studios, Hudson went through its talent development program (acting classes, etc.). By 1952, he became a leading man. I imagine that as his fame grew, the stress of keeping his secret grew geometrically.
In 1955, a scandal magazine threatened to expose Hudson. Henry Willson wasn’t about to lose the biggest star in his stable. So, he negotiated a deal with the magazine — he gave them dirt on two other actors in exchange for tossing out the Hudson story.

After that close call, Willson insisted that the bachelor Hudson get married. What woman would agree to a sham marriage? Willson’s secretary, Phyllis Gates. Two years later, the couple divorced, and Hudson had an ex-wife in his past to help quell more rumors. (In 1987, after Hudson died of AIDS, she wrote a book where she claimed she never knew Hudson was gay. Yet other sources say she threatened to expose his secret to get a better divorce settlement.)
Some of Hudson’s most popular films were “Magnificent Obsession” (1954) costarring Jan Wyman; “Giant” (1956) co starring Elizabeth Taylor; “Pillow Talk” (1959) costarring Doris Day; and “Man's Favorite Sport” costarring Paula Prentiss.

In “Pillow Talk,” Hudson played a straight man who is pretending to be gay to lure Doris into his bed. Rock’s head must have been spinning.
As Hudson’s movie career faded in the 1960s, he found new success in TV. But those rumors had a way of persisting... As the story goes, a group of Gay men in Huntington Beach had an annual party. Their 1971 invitation joked “witness the marriage of Rock Hudson and Jim Nabors". Nabors had starred for a 5-year run on the popular comedy “Gomer Pyle – USMC”.
The punchline to the “joke” was that Hudson would take Nabors’ TV character name and become “Rock Pyle”. Somehow this joke became an urban legend and was spread as a rumor across the country. The joke was on Hudson and Nabors. In fact, the two barely knew each other. They met in 1966 when both visited Angela Lansbury at a performance of “Mame”. And in 1970 when Hudson made a guest appearance on Nabors’s short-lived variety series “The Jim Nabors Hour”. (Perhaps that was the inspiration for the marriage joke?)

(Jim Nabors, the most famous Marine in the USA as “Gomer Pyle”, was also gay. He met a fireman in Hawaii and they were together for 42 years.
Despite the Rock Pyle rumor, Hudson had success with the hit TV series “McMillan & Wife” (1971-1977). In 1984, he appeared in a recurring role on the nighttime soap opera “Dynasty”. But Hudson had been diagnosed with AIDS the same year. His gaunt appearance on the show triggered new rumors. His character was quickly written out of the show (killed off-screen).

Shortly after, Hudson appeared at a press conference with his former screen partner Doris Day to announce her new daytime TV show. It alarmed his fans. Hudson looked ill and at times was incoherent.

Within days, Hudson flew to Paris to treat his “liver cancer”. His publicist denied he had AIDS, but a week later, he confirmed it. Hudson never officially admitted he was gay, but the AIDS diagnosis said it for him. By October 1985, Hollywood movie star Rock Hudson died at home at the age of 59.
AIDS until then was just a “GAY” disease, actress Morgan Fairchild said. “Rock Hudson's death gave AIDS a face."

I’ve included more about Rock’s Lovers at this post:
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So, fun detail I just noticed about Megamind:
Famously, throughout the film Megamind mispronounces certain words, most notably: "hello" ("olo"), "Metro City" ("Metrocity") and "school" ("shool").
Like many fans, I'd attributed this and other oddities— like not knowing what a window is— to his unconventional upbringing and general social isolation. His speech sounds a lot like the way people pronounce words that they've only seen written down, so maybe he just hasn't had enough practice talking to other people out loud.
Lovely theory, very angsty, makes sense that this would be what the film-makers intended.
Except…
You know who doesn't seem to have this problem with pronunciation? And who in fact attempts to correct Megamind's pronunciation of various words more than any other character?
Fucking Minion.
Minion was there for literally every step of Megamind's childhood. They were raised on Earth together and went through seemingly the exact same experiences. Yet somehow Minion came out the other end knowing how to answer the phone and what a window is and why people use codes, while Megamind didn't.
And I am just so fascinated as to why.
Top three theories:
1. Megamind isn't actually mispronouncing words due to lack of practice, but rather for some other reason.
Maybe there's something up with his ability to hear certain sounds, or his alien anatomy makes it harder to pronounce them. Maybe he's neurodivergent (I mean, he definitely is, but maybe that fact is affecting his speech).
2. Megamind is mispronouncing things due to lack of practice, but there's something about Minion that makes him need less practice to pick up new languages.
Possibly as part of their protective role, his species has advanced language acquisition programmed in so they can act as translators. Else, while Minion and Megamind landed on Earth together, it's not 100% clear whether they were actually at the same age/developmental stage when that happened. If Minion was an adult (or older child) when he became fluent in English, he might have consciously focused more on accurate pronunciation than Megamind did.
3. Megamind is mispronouncing things due to lack of practice, but Minion is getting more practice than him.
This is… honestly the theory with the most evidence behind it. Like, we know that Minion isn't in jail at the start of the film, so he's clearly mot spending the same amount of time in solitary confinement that Megamind is.
He also appears to be in charge of providing Megamind with the resources needed to carry out his plans, which would presumably require him to communicate with scrap merchants, crocodile breeders and Romanian outlet store owners (among others) on the regular.
And like… if he's not getting thrown in jail whenever Megamind does, and Megamind is spending a fair amount of time on the inside, then Minion has to be doing something to pass the time. He's clearly a bit of an extrovert, and seems to take more pleasure in interacting with people than Megamind does.
It seems unlikely that he'd spend all his time sitting in the Evil Lair waiting for Megamind contact him or escape. So what does he do?
I find it both sweet and hilarious to imagine that Minion actually does have his own social circle outside of Megamind.
Minion goes to DnD on the second Tuesday of every month.
Minion gets advice on making costumes for Megamind from his weekly sewing circle.
Minion has been going to university online for the past eight years and is currently working towards his PhD in Marine Biology.
Minion is a semi-regular at Metrocity Night Clubs.
Minion does volunteer work sometimes with kids at the Metrocity hospital.
Megamind has barely any idea about any of this. Like, he knows Minion goes places at various times.
He knows that when he's rampaging through the streets Minion will sometimes stop to wave hello to various people that Megamind has never met. He's seen the half-orc paladin costume that Minion made for DnD.
But he's never really asked about it, and Minion has never seen the need to tell him. So long as Minion's happy, Megamind's happy, and so long as Megamind's happy, Minion is happy.
Meanwhile Roxanna, post-movie, has to grapple with the fact that sometimes she'll go to visit her boyfriend only for him to ask if they can go out for dinner instead because Minion's book club is meeting in the Evil Lair, and he's been gently encouraged not to come back after what he said to Helen about her (wrong) opinions on To Kill A Mockingbird.
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So, I am continuing my previous post. My brain decided to make a Transformer itieration where they fully intergrate with humans, despite Cybertron's infighting are definitely definitely on itself.
By definition, Transformers is not mecha since they can function without a pilot, their chasis literally filled with the parts that can make them into their vehichle form, but, there is appeal where there could a third form in where a pilot could be possible with requirements to be met in human dynamics.
(Rise of the Beast) barely introduced the idea, and I kinda want to extend a concept like it, create a whole new version in how they decided to implement this form into their culture. And this is slightly dumb, so spare my cooking.
So, Transformer : Spark Rider Au
Spark Riders are essentially chosen partner(platonic or romantic) of a Cybertronian that where a spark adapts and even link with an organic that they trust (but can be taken away if one of the two are compromised mentally or emotionally), they basically adapt and function as similarly, with new upgrades where the pilot can be power as the one to control the transformer.
With Organics, they get the added benefit of being able to function in their atmosphere briefly and even taste energon for a source of sustenance as a trade off in creating that link, since there could be chances where they are cut off from normal human food.
In Cybertron, these are often rare cases, hell even seen as a luxury before the full intrigration. Infact, most Cybertronians wouldn't want that at first during their expeditions, as it could be seen as a liability, a connection to an organic is not only illogical but seems frivolous.
Only higher ranks would eat this shit up then, having a cute tiny organic pet where they can spoil and dress up in their paint (since the rider would wear their frame) is just that. Extra flex that Primus lets them have a bond with an Organic.
At the time, Organics are few and far between.
That changes when a Rider bonded with one of the 13 Primes. Yeah, having an Organic now is something to be considered as a big deal. Earth is essentially a Spacebridge away, and well, decided to Alien Stage it. There is now an influx of Organics wanted and taken, with bonds rarely made and runaways being prevalent.
Which also added the appeal, it's the fact that being chosen felt great is why Organics are sought after Post-Prime Rider. Several tried, few succeeded and most are explored and experimented on with potential, especially what would happen if a bonded Organic suddenly die?
Which opened the SparkRider Program.
At the time most would often don't get a chance, practically a lottery ticket on all sides. Since it needs to be curated by the Primes, but there were a few exceptions where they are immediately in the list. One of them was the Gladatorial Champion : Megatronus.
It was essentially to rile him down, especially when his optics strayed from the arena and up above the golden city and advocating for a new system. Fighting the system and bring question of their purpose, which now aligned to him and you, his sorted Spark Rider.
It was awkward at first, being stuck with someone bigger. Hell, practically depending on someone who can kill you.
But, it was better than with someone who saw you as a pet that is overbearing, distance was prevalent when he still sees you as someone weaker.
More often than not, both of you only appear close together to the program's rule and reputation, but also in appearance, which was rarely done well with tension on both sides.
That also meant, you only started depending on eachother with close calls, one of the first times, is a gladatorial match where you were involved thanks to a technical rule(sabotage: someone pushed you in.)
At that time, there was entertainment, but this was different now, just like the Cybertronians down below, you were similar like them, but you couldn't fight like them.
It was sudden, instincts flared. Because it didn't feel right for someone to die like that. Safe to say, the program worked...but failed in stopping a revolution already there in their very function.
With connection and trust, it shows that a Organic in-sync with their Cybertronian reveal a surge of already strong power, which revealed a new form of power.
#transformers ideas#transformers#writing#mecha#deception#idea for au#creative writing#any transformers#×reader#optimus prime x reader#transformer x human#transformers x you
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Business Proposal || knj (7/?)
pairing: namjoon x f!reader || ex friends to lovers!au friends to lovers!au
Genre: fluff, angst, smut, slow burn, fwb!au, non idol!au, unrequited love
Warnings: slow burn, angst,
Rating: mature, 18+
w.c: 5.8k
Synopsis: Namjoon is living on borrowed time, and it’s time to cash in. His father is months from taking his last breathe and his life long dream is to watch his oldest son say “I do.”
a/n: hello hello hellooooo, this one is more of a filler one to get everything started. Still, I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. lmk your thoughts and if you want to be added to the tag list!
m.list || series m.list || wattpad
prev || next

10 years ago
The first time you ever met Kim Namjoon, the leaves were just beginning to change in color. The fall season was approaching. The greens of the summer were slowly fading into vibrant autumn hues. Replacing the obnoxious sticky heat, for humid and cooler winds. The leaves still hadn’t fallen, the foliage was at its peak and you were desperately trying to stay afloat.
Somehow, you had gotten roped into a math class. Well, you weren’t necessarily roped into it. You were forced into it. It was part of the prerequisite requirements and because you had barely passed all of your Algebra exams in high school, you couldn’t plead the advisory board to accept those credits. They would’ve just laughed in your face and sent you away with a list of professors who specialized in the devil made subject.
Now, you had hoped that college algebra was a bit easier, after three weeks of a summer intensive course you were proven wrong. You weren’t necessarily failing, but you weren’t passing either. Though, in a panic-induced state full of hope you had done the math - ironic, and came to the conclusion that if you didn’t pass the final exam, you wouldn’t be able to move onto part two of the class.
If you had done things differently, you would’ve taken the classes at the start of your degree, just as your academic advisor had suggested. You didn’t and now you are two semesters away from a beautiful bachelors degree in arts. Achieving an impressive double major in Writing and Rhetoric and Journalism with a minor in International Communications, along with a tasteful three point nine GPA.
You were almost there. You could savor it as you looked into master degree programs. The looming debt of your student loans was the least of your worries. At least for now. If you didn’t pass the stupid final exam, in one of the easiest math classes you could ever take in college. You would be growing a larger hole in your loan repayment agreement with the prestigious HYBE U.
At this point you were desperate. Almost to the point in which you considered cheating. A blaspehmous thought that you only ever had in high school during science labs. Those gizmos computer stimulations were a quizlet file away, and the sweet taste of victory was even closer.
Yet, quizlet wouldn’t work out in this scenario and finally you caved, putting away your pride for a little bit to admit that you needed help.
A math tutor was the best option for you. Lots of college kids were desperate for another quick buck along with their less than promising part time jobs, while they struggled with juggling school in the process. You only hoped that the ad you posted on the HYBE U facebook group would workout, even if it had been a week ago and still hadn’t gotten any engagement.
Maybe it was time to accept the truth, what’s one more extra semester. Sure, it interferes with your descriptive five year plan, but you could somehow modify it. Right?
Wrong? So very wrong.
You needed a tutor quick. Probably in the next hour or so, because you refused to step foot in another math class again. Your life revolved around your rhetorical readings, feminist discoverings in Ancient Greece. You loved research, writing papers on things you found interesting, and developing a new perspective to already made discoveries. It was a rush. Not necessarily the writing part - it was tedious and sometimes you wondered why you even decided to pursue writing in the first place; but the sense of achievement and the ego boost you got when you typed the final sentence and the final period was euphoric. To then scroll through twenty plus pages of times new roman double spaced text that came from your brain, was a thrill. And one you would never achieve when it came to math.
Ugh!
“You good there?” You knew that voice. It was all too familiar. You had spent countless hours sitting in a lecture hall with him telling you jokes and writing you notes retelling you the rumors he heard about your math professor.
So, maybe, your total inability to see patterns when it came to numbers wasn’t completely your fault. But the fault of the raven haired, toothy smile of the muscle bunny that you had befriended in both your science lab and college algebra courses.
You lift your head up to see Jungkook with his head cocked to the side. His right eye was a bit swollen due to the sty he had developed from scratching his eye too much with his dirty germy hands. So, he had to opt to wear his glasses, his right eye lens was a bit thicker than the left, making his eyes look a bit disproportionate. If you weren’t aware of how successful he was at getting around with both women and men you would’ve thought otherwise, due to his geeky look and fascination with RPG games.
You groan, messing your hair with your silver ring cladded fingers. “No offense but math is the worst subject in this entire world. Why do we need it? I’m not going to use it to calculate the circumference of the can of beans I’m going to buy at the grocery store. Nor will I use the pythagorean theorem to measure the circumference of my pizza.” You rant, glancing at the time and closing your laptop.
Your self study session was unsuccessful because all you did was refresh the facebook page hoping someone would take your twenty dollars an hour offer.
Yes, you were incredibly desperate, even considering upping the price to appeal to more money hungry college students.
“The fact that you’re using geometry terminology regarding a simple college algebra class tells me everything I need to know.” He grins, partially leaning his body to the side, resting his weight on the umbrella handle he was carrying.
Fuck, you forgot it was going to rain today.
Your day couldn’t get any worse.
“Anyway, I’m guessing the tutor search isn’t working?”
“Bingo,” you snap your fingers at him before proceeding to gather the rest of your stuff.
This was the part you dreaded the most. The agonizing walk to your math lecture. Honestly, if it weren’t for Jungkook consistently meeting up with you in the cafe that connected to the hallway in the math building to walk to class together. You would’ve probably never turned up after the first class. Hence why you’re not in a sinking boat. Just a partially sinking boat.
Jungkook sighs, scratching the back of his head, watching you scoot out of the booth. He wishes he could offer you more help other than moral support and a few ‘You can do it,’ air punches. But between his computer science classes, and increasing doubt regarding his degree plaguing his mind, he’s found himself with zero free time.
That’s when he remembers something. A small passing comment made on his way to bathroom last night as he was getting ready for bed. Maybe he does have a way to help you. His face lights up, alerting you.
“What, why do you look like you’ve just seen a cheesecake on sale?” You adjust the strap of your leather bag, against your shoulder and make your way to his side, eyeing his umbrella.
Would it be weird to ask him to walk you home after class?
Shaking your head at the thought, a problem for later, you decide.
You shift your gaze to meet his. He’s biting the inside of his cheek and you’ve never been so desperate at knowing what goes on in that questionable head of his. He also never takes this long to say something. Once a thought pops into that head of his head, it's out in seconds because he’s afraid he might lose it.
You can thank his ADHD for that one.
“I think I might know someone who’s free on Tuesday and Thursday evenings that can probably help you out.” He squints, nodding his head, and you feel your mood turn right side up.
You knew befriending Jungkook would end up benefiting you one day. Though, you do feel a little bit irritated, couldn’t he have told you this wonderful news, um, I don’t know a week ago as you two sat in this exact same booth, while he watched you make the stupid facebook post.
You shove him a little, his umbrella buckling under his weight and he stumbles a bit, shock written all over his face. “What was that for?” He complains, taking a hold of his right arm in mock hurt.
“You’ve seen me suffer and you’re now just telling me that you magically happen to know someone who can tutor me this entire time.” You huff, shoving past him, glancing at your phone screen for the time. Class was in five minutes, unfortunately.
“That’s not necessarily true.” He speaks from behind you, and you throw him a glare making him buckle under the pressure. The dramatics. He’s only been your friend for almost four weeks, but he’s already gotten used to you and he knows he’s hit a vein, and that you’re so stubborn any explanation wouldn’t work. It is always worth a try.
“Okay maybe that’s true, but they’re pretty busy and I just assumed he would have a full schedule and no time to tutor you.” He explains, keeping up with your steps. The two of you arrive in front of the lecture hall with a minute to spare, you take it upon yourself to open the door, revealing the room full of stressed induced faces, quietly whispering to each other.
You shake your head at Jungkook’s explanation, making your way to your usual seats. In the middle but on the outside for a quick escape if ever needed. “How do you even know this person? I thought you only had two friends.” You place your bag gently onto your desk and sit down.
“Actually, including you, I have three friends.”
“My friends don’t count either.”
Jungkook rolls your eyes and slumps down next to you, spreading his legs wide, taking up all his leg room and part of yours. God, he was such a guy.
“Do you want my help or not?” He says in feigned annoyance.
You unzip your bag, fishing out your pencil and notebook, while he takes out his laptop. You could never understand how he was able to take math notes on a computer, but he was the self proclaimed computer genius. Well, his straight A’s in all of those freakishly hard classes were also proof, so, there must be a method to his madness.
You sigh, setting your bag down in the empty seat next to you. “Fine, yes, please, my perfect Jungkook. I’m desperate, put me out of my misery.” You plead, hands clenched in front of you as the hushing of the students dies down, and the greeting of your Spanish accent written professor echoes throughout the class. It’s your cue to shut up and hopefully pay attention.
“First, don’t ever say things like that.” Jungkook begins, leaning in closer to whisper, “it’s weird.” He says in disgust–the audacity. “Second, do you have plans after class?” He finishes leaning away and opening up a new blank document on his laptop.
You shake your head at his question and click down on your mechanical pencil. You were determined to at least understand one thing in today’s lesson. Jungkook doesn’t answer, your professors voice booming throughout as he begins the lesson of the day, and you’re distracted in seconds by the light tap on your shoulder.
You look over at your friend, his laptop screen turned in your direction so you can read the tiny invitation written in cosmic sans font. He’s a child.
Come with me to Serendipity after class and thank me later :p
You look up at him rolling your eyes at the ending emoji. A child indeed. But you nod in agreement, you don’t know what or who is at Serendipity. Except for a solution. At least that is what you hope for because there’s a reason why you haven’t stepped foot in there since childhood, despite Jungkook raving about it time and time again. The overpriced vanilla lattes is the main reason why.
Yet, desperate times come along with desperate measures. And if you need to drop a couple more on your favorite caffeinated drink in order to pass math. Then so be it.

Serendipity stood in between two worlds. It separated the lively college town from the perfect four person familial neighborhood. On weekday afternoons it was mostly frequented by college students who needed a change in scenery or remote workers with their bangs still in rollers and their eyes puffy from sleep. On Friday nights it was home to young adults grabbing dessert after a fulfilling dinner or a late caffeinated drink for a long night out. Tired office workers, likely forced to attend a company dinner, usually took up the long tables in the back wall of the first floor.
Sunday’s were a favorite at Serendipity, young families would come from different parts of town to enjoy a late brunch. And morning runners would waltz in for a late caffeine kick before the strenuous work out around the lake that offered the cafe it’s most famous view.
Dionysus Lake.
Just as its name implies. The lake was a place for celebration, festivities, and madness. It’s where everything would happen for the first time. Your first fall, your first scrape. The graduation ground from a four wheeled bike to a two one. The first time you saw your crush outside of school. The first time you held hands with someone and the downfall of your first friendship with your childhood best friend—Sabrina. I was the breeding ground of impulsive decisions like getting drunk on the steps that led to the bank. With beer and soju you had gotten because you paid a broke college student scrambling in between odd jobs to buy them for you. The breeding ground of many triple dog dares and the place in which you decided what your future would be like.
It was a right of passage from childhood to teenagehood and finally adulthood.
It’s where couples that beat the test of time go to enjoy their last moments of humanity. Both the cafe and the lake are full of nostalgia, and so famous that it now became a must see spot from people all over the city. With inflation and the influx of people both the cafe and the lake were places you and your family had started to frequent less, until eventually it was out of your minds completely and the longing for just a fleeting moment to visit before the chaos was gone.
That is until today.
Everything had changed so much. The rustic decor was now replaced with a mixture of antiques and plants hanging from every possible surface. The windows were now floor to ceiling and they opened up to a very cooling outside patio, where you could enjoy the view of the famous lake. They had even expanded to a second floor, and added a rooftop with fiery lights and wooden tables. It basically looked nothing like what you had grown up with and more like a pinterest board of garden core had thrown up on it.
It also had more menu options, and gone was your favorite blueberry and mint tea you and your mom would enjoy whenever your anxiety spiked to levels in which you could not control. Everything had been replaced with something more expensive and trendy. A complaint that had been surrounding the cafe for years by everyone who grew up inside the walls. Though you hadn’t really believed it until now because you were finally working up the courage to see it for yourself. And the one thing you can only really think about—apart from the overpriced vanilla latte you had just paid for—was how could a place so familiar feel so unfamiliar at the same time.
“Hobi always gives me a discount when I come.” Jungkook throws into the wind while he plays with the white buzzer in his hand.
Unlike you, Jungkook and his family—from what you have gathered—were regulars. As soon as he arrived every worker greeted him with a warm smile and a simple hand wave. Some had added a mention of seeing his mom earlier. And if you hadn’t been convinced, the barista with the high nose bridge, sporting the floral shirt, a bright yellow beanie and khaki pants had already inputted his order before Jungkook could mutter the words “iced americano with a splash of vanilla syrup please.”
“I’m sorry who?” You move your head closer, eyeing the way his hands wrapped around the buzzer. Desperately hoping for it to ring because although it was almost three and you probably shouldn’t really be drinking any form of caffeine at this time. Your body desperately needs something to keep you alert. Especially now that you were meeting your classmate's brother for the first time.
A brother who could possibly save you from failing your college algebra class. He had told you a little about him. Apparently, he wasn’t really his brother, but his mother remarried his father when Jungkook was young, so to make matters easier for everyone involved. He would just introduce him as his older brother. He called him Joon and he was currently working on his masters in philosophy. A real pretentious nerd if someone were to ask you. They lived together in an apartment just outside of the college town, and according to Jungkook, who you have noticed likes to input his opinion where it really doesn’t matter. He was still a virgin, because he lived and breathed philosophy like one of those weird philosophers from ancient times. The only thing he needed was a laurel crown and a toga.
His words not yours.
Basically he didn’t really do a very good job at painting a good image of his older brother. And you were already having some negative opinions regarding him because you have dealt with a handful of pretentious boys in many of your classes that you really didn’t feel like adding another one to the mix. But again, you’ll push your preconceived notions aside. This was for your four point zero GPA and your five year plan. One more insult to your psyche and intelligence wouldn’t hurt.
Right?
“The one that rang us up. He gave you one too, vanilla lattes are usually seven and you only paid six.” He points out before jumping at the sound of the buzzer going off. “I’ll get it.” He smiles standing up faster than you can protest, and walking off to the pick up counter.
It’s strange that the two of you became friends or clicked so well. And you like to think that it was mainly because you shared a few classes more than anything else. He was a little energizer bunny, a right arm sprinkled with a few tattoos and a scar right above his eyebrow where a piercing had been. You were not far from the opposite, but you did have a social battery that would often run out before the end of the day. You valued the quiet and apart from the many earrings decorating your ears and the hot pink peekaboo dye job you had your mom do. You were deathly scared of needles and didn’t look nearly as rebellious as Jungkook did, even with his stupid nerdy glasses.
“Hobi gave us cookies, on the house.” Jungkook says as he sets down the tray in front of you. “I think he might want your number.” He adds with a nonchalant tone before taking up his previous seat and getting a head start at setting the table.
You tilt your head in confusion as he pushes a plate with a matcha cookie your way. “You’re talking nonsense. I heard you ask for a chocolate chip cookie before you paid.” You roll your eyes, grabbing your tall glass of coffee.
Jungkook rolls his eyes, pushing the brown tray to the side. “I ordered a cookie but I didn’t order two.” He points to your cookie. “Plus he couldn’t take his eyes off you while you ordered.” He finishes and takes a long sip of his drink. He finishes with a refreshed ah and smacks his lips together in satisfaction.
The drama.
That’s probably another thing the two of you did have in common. You’re both dramatic in your own ways. Something the two of you discovered about each other two weeks into knowing one another. It was a long story that involved a stubbed toe and a papercut. One that wasn’t worth reminiscing about now because it added nothing to both of your lives.
“I doubt that Kook, he’s just doing his job and he knows you.” You raise a finger at him and you take a long awaited sip of your coffee.
Jungkook crosses his arms in front of you. “Okay then why did he ask me if you were single.” He adds in a matter of fact way. Cocking an eyebrow to prove his point.
You narrow your eyes at him and kick him under the table. He recoils in pain, whispering explicits to not draw any more attention to the two of you. “You’re lying and I know you’re lying because I saw you order another cookie when you went to pick up our drinks.” You say leaning in closer so he can hear your whispering.
Here’s the thing. Jungkook has been trying to set you up with every guy he deems is cute. You on the other hand are not interested, mostly because you’re still young with your whole life ahead of you. And right now the only thing that matters is your degree.
What’s the rush?
He pouts, uncomfortably cradling his shin. “Fine, he didn’t give you a cookie on the house, but he did say you were cute. And he’s a nice guy. My brother is friends with him and he’s really funny.”
You sigh, breaking a piece from your cookie. “I'm happy to hear that but you know that’s not a priority of mine now.”
Jungkook rests his elbows onto the table and leans forward. “Have you ever heard of a work- life balance?” Because all you do is work and you should be out and partying. Your twenties are supposed to be full of fun.”
“I do have fun, Jungkook.” You point out, putting the piece of cookie into your mouth before crossing your arms in annoyance. If you had a coin for every time someone in your life tried having this exact same conversation with you, then you’d probably be able to afford more of these over priced lattes.
Jungkook sits back with his arms crossed, tonguing the inside of his cheek in suspicion. Sure, he’s only known you for a short amount of time, but every time he sees you around campus or meets up with you. You have your head buried in either a book or your fingers are flying across your laptop keyboard. He’s positive you don’t know how to have fun.
“Fine name one instance in which you are not doing school work.” He challenges
“My friends and I have board game nights every Wednesday and Sunday night.”
Jungkook sits up a bit straighter, a look of shook written all over his face. “Wait, you actually have friends.” He says before lifting a hand to cover his mouth in disbelief.
Before he can stop you, you kick his shin one more time and this time harder than the first time. This is exactly why you are surprised you’ve chosen to be friends with him. Sometimes he could get under your skin by just existing.
“You know I have friends, Jungkook. You’ve hung out with them.”
He doesn’t answer, instead he nods his head while he once again cradles his shin in pain. Maybe he crossed the line this time. He met Taehyung and Jimin more than once. And from what he was able to gather in the few times he’s hung out with the three of you. Is that Jimin might have a huge crush on you and Taehyung’s jokes aren’t nearly as funny as you make them out to be. Still, he thinks they’re cool.
“Sorry I’m late, I missed my bus.” An unfamiliar voice speaks up and it makes the man in front of you sit up so straight you’re positive he’s going to break his back.
You raise a brow in confusion before turning your head to look towards the person who has the energizer bunny fix his posture and shut his mouth.
The first thing you see is the flowy khaki pants, then his simple t-shirt topped with a blue and white checkered flannel. And finally your eyes land on his face, and the black framed glasses sitting on the bridge of his nose. His hair hides under a navy beanie and your mouth almost falls open in disbelief.
Holy fuck, wait a second. This is the man Jungkook was describing. The nerd of a brother who could possibly still be a virgin and has his nose stuck in philosophy textbooks? Out goes your preconceived notions of the man in front of you and now you’re downright confused because this man was hot and reeked of chillaxed energy. He probably owns a few plants, and bike rides on the weekend and visits a few buddhist temples for the experience.
Nobody says anything as the man—which you perceive is now Joon—slides into the spot next to Jungkook’s. He hasn’t really looked in your direction, except for the short glance he sent your way when he first appeared.
Jungkook scoffs in annoyance as he scoots over making it a huge show like it’s inconvenient for him to move over. “This is Joon.”
“Namjoon.” The older one corrects before he extends his hand for you to shake. You hesitate for a second before shaking it and telling him your name.
He nods, retrieving his hand and sets it down on his lap. There’s a brief silence as he looks in between you and Jungkook probably trying to make sense of the situation himself because if you were being honest you’re still stunned yourself. Though you know Jungkook and his brother aren’t blood related you can’t help but feel like good genes simply run in the family somehow.
Namjoon shrugs once he’s silently done making his assumptions and sets his arms on the table, clasping his hands together. In an instant his face is replaced from a pleasing and welcoming one to one that screams he’s honestly here for business and not to fuck around.
“Are you the one that Jungkook tells me needs help?” He questions, earning a jab from the younger one. He doesn’t react and instead keeps going. “Have to ask because he’s been trying to set me up on blind dates thanks to our mom, so if this is what this is then I’m sorry but I’m not interested.” He nods before leaning back. Joon, or Namjoon doesn’t let you respond before he stands up and walks towards the order counter. There you see him greet the same barista who you now know is Hobi thanks to Jungkook.
You don’t linger on his figure before you turn to face Jungkook. Who looks mortified beyond belief and you can’t help but laugh because things are simply just making sense. All of Jungkook’s backhanded praises involving his brother made so much more sense. He did mention he was an asshole but you just assumed that was a simple sibling thing. No, he was most definitely right. And he fit more into the description you had once assumed before even meeting him, minus the typical nerd look you had conjured up with the brief descriptions Jungkook had provided. He was hot, and could probably crack your heart open into two, but he was exactly like those pretentious classmates you’ve had the unfortunate pleasure of encountering all throughout your degree. But for some reason you aren’t as bothered by it, because in a way it was hilarious.
Jungkook whines, “He can’t even try to be nice for a little bit.”
You throw your head back laughing even harder, while Jungkook continues to grumble underneath his breath in annoyance. You laugh until your stomach begins to hurt and until someone clears their throat making your giggles die down slowly.
“Why is Hobi giving out free cookies?” He points out before setting his tray down and taking up the seat next to his brother again. To which Jungkook silently gestures to the cookies and you as if to prove his earlier point. Namjoon rolls his eyes at his brother's actions before turning to face you.
“He also told me to give you his number but I told him that I didn’t know you and that if he wanted your number he should just ask you himself.” He shrugs, taking a sip of his dark liquid and making the same satisfied noise Jungkook had made earlier.
Ah, maybe dramatics also run in the family.
You stir the liquid of your latte with your straw. “Um thanks I guess.” You take a sip of your drink as he nods.
The atmosphere is so awkward that you want the entire cafe to fall through a hole in the ground. The three of you are silent before Jungkook’s phone lights up and starts buzzing. He quickly grabs it and silences it before standing up. “Sorry, I have to go. I forgot I had this thing to do.” He says inconspicuously before grabbing his book bag and throwing it over his shoulder.
You scramble eyes going wide as he adjusts the straps and straightens his black long sleeve. “Wait where are you going? I thought we had plans after this.”
Jungkook bites his lip, silencing his buzzing phone again when it goes off a second time. “Sorry Bun, I have to really go, it's important. I’ll see you at home Joon.” He salutes before basically running out of the cafe.
“Typical.” Namjoon catches your attention and rolls his eyes. “I knew he had something planned when he asked me to meet him here last minute. I’m really sorry about him but I’m really not interested in dating right now.” He says before grabbing hold of his bag and going to stand up.
Your body is filled with panic as you watch him. You do have a few choice words for the person that just ditched you with his brother. But this could be your last resort and you weren’t going to let him walk away. “Wait.” You extend your arm in his direction. He stops slipping on his bag and raises a brow at you in curiosity.
“I actually do need help. I’m close to failing my college algebra course…well I will fail it if I don’t pass the final exam.” You begin to explain, finally grabbing his full attention as he stuffs his hands into the pocket of his pants. “Jungkook mentioned you could probably help out.” You bring down your hand, circling both of them around your watered down latte. “That’s why I’m here. I promise this isn’t a blind date or anything.”
Namjoon nods, looking at the entrance before sitting down again, sighing, his shoulders relaxing instantly. And you’re once again met with the same nonchalant demeanor he had approached you and Jungkook. Once again things started to make sense, why he had made the switch so quickly. It was something he was probably so used to by now, but now as he adjusts himself in the seat in front of you. You can see that maybe he could not really be that bad.
“In that case I can stay.” He grins, pushing his iced coffee to the side. “I should warn you I’m not the best when it comes to math but college algebra is easy so I can help you out.”
You let out a big sigh of relief and nod your head. “Thank you so much you don’t understand how much you’re already helping me out by agreeing.”
Namjoon chuckles lightly before reaching into his side bag and taking out a plain black notebook with a pen. “In that case we should figure out our schedules.” He opens the notebook to a blank page and uncaps the pen. “Does Tuesday and Thursday at seven work for you?” He tilts his head in question.
You nod rapidly. “That’s perfect for me.”
He hums and writes down your name with the agreed days and times next to it. He closes it quickly and puts it in his bag. “Great, I'll see you next Tuesday.”
That’s it? It was that easy? Then why the heck did it take such a long time for someone to respond to your Facebook post. Especially when you had increased the payment.
Payment. Oh you had forgotten about it, and from
What it seems like so did Namjoon because he was already getting ready to go again.
“Wait.”
He stops, eyeing you in confusion but you decide to continue. “How much do you charge?”
Namjoon opens his mouth and closes it quickly. He puts a pensive hand on his chin before snapping his fingers in front of him. “I think you’re the one Jungkook mentioned about studying writing.”
“Writing and Rhetoric.” You correct before he can continue going. He nods in acknowledgment.
“Yeah, that’s what he said. I’m sure he mentioned what I was studying and if I’m being honest I hate revising my own writing. So, instead of paying me in money you can just revise my work in exchange for tutoring lessons.” He offers with a shrug.
You would be a fool to not take up this magnificent offer, so quickly you agree, extending your hand for him to shake. He takes it and for a second you swear you feel your heart drop down to your belly from just his touch. But you brush it off quickly when he retrieves his hand. It’s probably just the caffeine anyway.
“Great, it’s a pleasure doing business with you.” He smiles, and this time it is wide enough in which you can see his cute little dimples. “See you on Tuesday.”
Before you can respond with the same statement he’s already rushing out of the cafe. Leaving you alone in the booth, with three unfinished iced coffees and cookies.
You can’t really make out anything, just that this was probably the longest day of your life. And that unbeknownst to you, you can slightly feel the light crack in the corner of your heart. One that you will later on learn was the moment Namjoon had started to infiltrate it.

hope you liked it!
#bts fanfiction#kdiarynet#bts imagines#bts fanfic#bts scenarios#bts fic#namjoon#bts army#bts x reader#bts x you#bts angst#bts smut#bts fluff#bts namjoon#namjoon scenarios#namjoon fanfiction#Namjoon fanfic#Namjoon x reader#Namjoon smut#Namjoon angst#Namjoon fluff#namjoon x y/n#Namjoon fic#Kim namjoon
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First time doing an ask but I’ve seen your matchups and you’ve been really descriptive with them, so I’m curious what mine would be.
I identify as genderfluid, and my favorite color is pink. I dress alt in general (I could be pastel, emo, even goth!), and I love drawing and writing poetry. Now and then, I cosplay characters I like with things from my closet. I sleep often, sometimes accidentally missing work or just barely making it to appointments.
I don’t have too many friends, honestly it feels like too much of a pain to expand my friend group, and all the effort isn’t worth my anxiety and the drainage I usually get after a social interaction. I often wont do something if it takes too long, like with food I just wont eat if there isn’t anything ready to make or eat. And I wont go to a place if I have to walk to far. I have BPD tendencies and Juvenile Myoclonic Epilepsy, and my favorite drinks are tea and coffee.
Your romantic matchup is…
Leviathan!!
- this one was just a given for me.
- so levi is also not the best at socializing. socializing requires him to leave his room (his safe space) AND he has to actually talk to people, so it’s very draining for him.
- i imagine that the two of you would be formally introduced to eachother at the beginning of the RAD program but Levi just didn’t seem that into it 😭 like i can see him calling u a “normie” and acting like he didn’t wanna be there (bc he didn’t)
- but I think that would change once he sees ur cosplays (which are amazing btw :D). i think he’d maybe see you post one of your closet cosplays on Devilgram and be like “shit maybe they’re cool??” but levi would be soo scared to talk to u still😭
- i think he’d have a friend crush on u (at first) and he’d pull a modem day jay gatsby and add u to his close friends and post certain things in hopes that you’ll see them and respond to his story.
- and if u ever draw any of your fav characters he’ll eat that shit up LMFAOO
- i think if you haven’t approached him at this point, he would just respond to one of your stories and compliment one of ur cosplays! he probs recognized it from a game he plays and he asked some questions like “whats ur fav character?” and even invited u to play with him.
- that’s how u guys became friends.
- i think you’d be best friends before you guys developed romantic feelings towards another. levi would probs realize he had a thing for you once he realized how enamored he would be whenever he’d watch you play games with him or how flustered he’d be whenever yall would brush hands when he hands u a controller or smth.
- levi would have a really hard time confessing tho bc he has his doubts that u like him back (he’s so insecure, this poor man) but also he doesn’t wanna risk loosing the best friendship he’s ever had.
- i think either you would have to confess first or levi would eventually confess to u in a really cute way but after a while.
- yk that scene in Juno where she tells bleeker that she thinks she’s in love with him for real and that he’s the coolest person she’s ever met? that’s how I imagine levi would tell you. after u guys beat a game together, he would pause and turn away with this blush on his face and just blurt it out.
- you guys would literally be eachothers part time lover and full time friend !! (Can u tell i love Juno?)
- but anywho, when u guys do date, u guys are fs going to a LOT of cosplay cons ! (I think that’s what they’re called??)
- i also think that levi would be very shy in the beginning of the relationship. he’s been alive for thousands of years but i think he’s had very little to no experience with serious relationships. but for you, he’ll try.
- i see his love languages as quality time and physical touch so expect to spend a lot of time gaming tg in his room or cuddles with him!
- OMG and levi would totally buy cosplays for u from akuzon and mb wanna do matching cosplays tg !
Your platonic matchup is…
Solomon!
- hear me out on this one because this one was a bit hard (because levi would be ur bsf but im not gonna give u the same character two times in a row LMAO)
- so Solomon formally introduces himself at the beginning when u drop ur ddd and he hands it back to u, right? you guys wouldn’t talk for real until you grew closer to levi. It’s known that levi is close to Solomon canonically because of their shared love for TSL so when you grew closer to Levi, I can imagine that he’d invite you to spend time with him and Solomon.
- it’s then that Solomon and you would grow closer together.
- he’s a very curious person so I think he’d ask you about your cosplays and I think you guys would bond over human world games.
- omg and Solomon is not dense, he’ll realize when you and Levi start to develop feelings towards another and tease ts outta you two. i can fs see him teasing u like a brotherly figure LMAO
- but when you guys do date, sol would be happy for you two :D
i hope you liked this 🩷🩷
#obeyme#obey me#obey me matchups#obey me shall we date#obey me!#obey me nb#obey me nightbringer#obey me leviathan#obey me solomon
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System Breach Sunday... Rewind ⭕
#7
“Connor!” Hank dropped to his knees in front of his android charge. Sidearm holstered, he reached out, hesitant.
Still frozen, lifeless like a broken doll, Connor could only watch as Hank took one of his hands from where they rested in his lap. The sight seemed almost far away… nearly glowing under the weak midday sun. Even still, Connor could feel it as Hank’s warm, calloused palm squeezed his own—he could hear the Lieutenant’s elevated respiration, feel his anxious pulse through the contact in his palm—but he couldn’t react. Couldn’t reciprocate in any way.
Connor was fine, but the remaining seconds that he was powerless to prove it made something inside him hurt.
>WARNING: COMPREHENSIVE MOTOR REBOOT REQUIRED
>Time Until Motor Reboot: 53 seconds
>
>Software Instability ^
Gently, almost fearfully hesitant, Hank reached to Connor’s chin, tilting up his head. The sensation was a stark, cutting contradiction to the deviant’s forceful grip—and in a flutter of irrationality, Connor once again found himself verifying his anti-virus program’s readout.
Still clear. Still nothing.
He was alright.
Connor’s vision rose, panning from the Lieutenant’s knees before his own, up to the man’s concerned, gray-framed face. Hank’s expression was pained, his voice tentative, “Can you hear me, son? You okay?” His gaze shifted slightly to Connor’s right, and the finger at his chin tilted his head to follow—Connor’s LED was still an angry, cycling red.
“Shit, you still in there, Connor?” Hank asked with a bit more urgency. But then his gaze shifted away, and his hand gently lowered Connor’s head. His tone took on a more inward quality, “His LED’s still goin’, probably means he ain’t dead… the fuck did that deviant bastard do?” Careful, probing hands prodded at Connor’s sides, his arms, shoulders, his throat—barely brushing the data panel below his jaw—yet Hank found nothing amiss. “This is why I didn’t want you going off alone, you dumbass!”
>WARNING: COMPREHENSIVE MOTOR REBOOT REQUIRED
>Motor Reboot Initiated
Finally, after so many frustrating, powerless minutes, Connor began to regain physical functionality.
His breathing was the first to come back online. In a warmer setting, the influx of air would have been vital to cool his arrested biocomponents—but as his synthetic lungs expanded, Connor was met with the frigid rush of Detroit winter. Some basic, hard-coded instinct sent a violent shiver juddering through him, and Connor’s eyes squinted shut before he realized he’d even regained the ability to blink. He wheezed again, exhaling harshly as if the next breath would not come just as cold.
“Connor!” Hank gasped, moving to grip the android’s shoulders. “Hang on kid, hang on. I’ve gotcha.”
Though the shivers persisted, each tremor was more fluid—more lifelike—than the last. And before long, Connor was able to perform simple movements of his own volition. With meticulous focus, he strung a sequence of actions together, then executed. First, Connor reached for the Lieutenant’s wrist and grasped it lightly. He slowly shook his head. Then Connor opened his mouth, activated his vocal synthesizer, and whispered, “I’m okay.”
Yet he sounded anything but. Connor’s voice had come out small, rattled, afraid. He hadn’t queued an emulated well of emotion, hadn’t plotted the expression he could feel furrowing his brows. Androids weren’t supposed to—
“Like hell you are! What the hell happened? What’d that fucker do to you?” Hank’s tone was rough now that the imminent danger had passed, but the sharpest edges had been sanded smooth by relief. Connor couldn’t help but think back to the echo of Hank’s anger—his fear that he might lose…
Connor blinked, then jerked his hand away from Hank’s arm. He tried to right himself, but only managed to sway in Hank’s persistent grasp. The danger had passed, but— “The deviant—” Connor pressed, eyes wide, “It can’t have gotten far. I can track its progress through the cameras from here—”
“Woah, woah, woah, hold it,” Hank rumbled, biting back a curse as Connor nearly slumped further to the ground. “I’m not going anywhere until I’m sure you’re actually okay. And not just saying it. Why’re you moving like a drunk bag of rocks?”
#today! we have a snippet from way back in chapter 1! that way i'm not just posting literal chapter updates here every week lmao#it feels like it's been so long since i've gotten to write hank and connor interacting in this fic#even longer since they were nice to each other like they are here lmao#i was working on the start of chapter 8 and OOF the confrontation between gavin and connor was hitting all of the#'autistic kid getting picked on and not realizing it' red flags 😅#like. i'm over here writing the scene but also yelling 'no connor! don't ask him to give you back the notebook he stole from you!'#'that's just going to make him bully you MORE!'#System Breach Sunday#System Breach rewrite#dbh#dbh fic#my fic#detroit become human#detroit become human connor#connor rk800#dbh connor#system breach saturday
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I'm honestly not sure if I've mentioned this on here before, but here we go.
I've been looking into getting a service dog for a few years. What breed would be best for the tasks I need, if I should get a program trained dog or if I should owner train, what it costs to get said service dog and anything they need or would like, how to take care of a dog, what are the laws around service dog prospects and housing, what are the laws for service dogs, etc. etc.
Up until now, it's all been more of a thought experiment than anything else because my father established a "No Dogs Under My Roof" policy a long time ago, and despite a service dog being medical equipment, the answer to if I could get one is a hard "Not Under My Roof"
But! We're finally down to the last year or two of community college before I transfer to a 4 year where I'll be living on my own and can thus get a dog. So I'll be looking into breeders to see what their wait lists are like and check to make sure the breeder I decide to go with is actually an ethical breeder.
I've debated on breeds for a while. Poodles are hypoallergenic but require a lot of hair maintenance and will matte up fairly quickly if I forget to brush them due to a flare-up, so they're a no. Doberman seemed like a good fit as they met most of my requirements. However, I was informed that they're a velcro breed that are very protective, which makes sense since they are breed to be guard dogs, but that doesn't work if i need a strangers help. Goldens and labs are quite similar in most things regarding my list of requirements but didn't end up being my final choice.
I've decided to go with German Shepherds for the breed, as I need mobility, medical alert, and psychiatric tasks. That's quite a bit for one dog, but German Shepherds are breed specifically to be working dogs with varying jobs, so while I'll need to be careful with training to keep them from burning out as a puppy, they're my best bet.
I've decided on owner training supplemented with a professional trainer's support/assistance.
The mobility tasks in question aren't weight bareing, and even if they were, I'm aware that type of training doesn't start before the vet okays it around 2 or so years old. Sometimes, my vision stops working, or I'll get horribe brain fog making me very confused, and I can't bend down to pick things up off the floor unless I'm sitting, so think along those lines for mobility tasks.
The medical alert is for POTS and maybe migraines. I'm not sure how migraine alerts work yet, i still need to look into that one, but I know how to do the POTS ones.
The psychiatric tasks are to tell me if I'm displaying anxious habits cause I don't notice them and can't feel when I am due to a disconnect in my brain from physical reaction and emotional reaction. I react physically but can't emotionally, which means i can have the bodily reaction of a panic attack and all the issues that creates but I think im perfectly fine. Which is oh so fun to deal with (can you hear the sarcasm?) Plus a few other things I don't feel like sharing that I need help with.
If anyone has anything helpful to add, please do. I've looked into things, but research can only get you so far
#chronic illness#postural orthostatic tachycardia syndrome#disabled#ehlers danlos syndrome#chronic pain#hypermobile ehlers danlos#pots syndrome#chronically ill#disability#spoonie#service dog#medical alert dog#psychiatric service dog#mobility service dog
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November 6, 2024, WIP Wednesday Game Community Answered Asks: everything is fine-2
Yeah... these lines took me a while. And still would benefit from more editing, but at least there's something to edit. Celebrate wins!
@1attheedge
Over and over, Ballister flexed his hands, trying to shed some nervous energy. He didn't dare pace, as much as he wanted to — too much risk of making noise. Soon — too soon — he'd have to explain himself, but he'd rather not have that be to someone half-asleep and panicked over an intruder.
@twyrewolf Olive You is the Fandoms Trumps Hate fic, and here are your (somewhat wordy) everything is fine lines:
Hand flexing became counting on his hands in binary — something he'd picked up from one of his favorite teachers. As a squire, he'd taken advanced mathematics and elective courses in programming, science, and engineering, much to the bafflement of his peers at the Institution, who didn't really see the point. They still needed to pass the Academy's basic requirements to graduate — and the Director insisted that knights have their diplomas so they'd reflect well on the Institution when among polite society — but most did the bare minimum.
@tiercell
And so, Ballister often found himself in classes next to the children of the gentry and well-off merchants, who expected to continue on to university or apprenticeships. Sometimes, he couldn't help but wonder if he would have been one of them, if his father hadn't sold him off. But then he might not have met Ambrosius, and that possibility also made his heart ache.
@aparticularbandit
Ballister reached 1023 — the highest he could go on two hands — and started counting all over again until he couldn't bear it any longer.
There was a sudden, terrifying feeling of falling, and then he shook himself awake. Apparently, slouching against a wall had not been the best idea.
@allofthebeanz
The room had become noticeably lighter during his impromptu nap, and he fumbled with the watch.
Five fifty. Much better than he feared.
@somefishycat I wrote Olive You for Fandom Trumps Hate and here are your lines:
Trying to avoid nodding off again, Ballister mentally ran through the periodic table next, starting with the noble gases and ending with the four known magical elements. Apparently some foreign scholars theorized there were more, but magic was somewhat frowned upon in the Kingdom. At least in the capital — there were rumors of witches in the remote villages and deep woods of the mountains.
@sourb0i
Six. As a squire, he would have been up by now, tending to horses or whatever other chore he happened to be assigned to. Knights had the luxury of sleeping in sometimes, though on tourney days he typically spent some extra time warming up.
@kitten-kokomo Indeed, it is not! Hence an over 6 month delay.
In not too long, someone would probably start wondering where they were.
And then Ballister heard noises upstairs.
In not too long, someone else would be probably wondering why they were here.
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Ah, come on!?!
FOUR
Jaune and Wolfie sat dejectedly off to the side while a moving company, dropped off all the salvageable equipment in the waterfront warehouse that was to become the new home of the Grimm Development Department. Jaune was despondent due to the hours it was going to take to reconnect everything… Wolfie because he/she met her/his “donor”.
Saphron Arc was a piece of work, and while she did present Wolfie with a proper set of attire, she was entirely TOO handsy in helping him/her put it on. Memories of that encounter caused the humanoid grimm to shiver in fear, particularly because Saphron Arc made a point of saying she would be coming back for another visit, with more cute outfits for her little “sister”.
Wolfie: This is bullshit.
Jaune: You think this is bad? Wait until we have to attend the emergency BoD meeting and explain the added expenses… my budget is going to be decimated!
Wolfie: Seriously, dude? How do you get anything done?
Jaune: I don’t. I’m lucky I get a paycheck each week… which reminds me I have to take you to Human Resources, soon.
Wolfie: Why?
Jaune: You need identification, and your Social Insurance Number, plus you have a TD-1V to complete. Then we need to go to the bank and set up an account.
Wolfie:Uh, again. Why?
Jaune: You are an employee, and as such you need to have the proper documentation, plus the Inner Circle refuses to get nailed for tax evasion so we need to pay you as well as take the proper hold backs for governmental remittance.
Wolfie: Huh? But I’m a monster?
Jaune: You are… or will be a valued employee.
Wolfie: But you built me for combat?
Jaune: Yes, I did, and you will be most likely listed as an active combatant member of our PMC forces.
Wolfie: PMC?
Jaune: Private Military Contractor.
Wolfie: Seriously? I thought we’re supposed to be trying to dominate the world?
Jaune: Well to rule the world we need to be able to provide for security or our people, as well as have sources of income to provide needed social welfare programs, in addition to collecting taxes, etc…
Wolfie: This sucks.
Jaune: Tell me about it. At least you’ll be lucky, once your paperwork is done you’ll be transferred to the PMC division… which Saphron is in charge of by the way…
Wolfie: WHAT?!? SERIOUSLY!?!
Jaune: Yes, anyway, once you’re transferred you’ll be free of this mess and can enjoy yourself…
/==/ 72 Hours Later /==/
After working basically around the clock, Wolfie and Jaune finished reassembling the lab into something that was functional. A day before the scheduled meeting with the Board of Directors. Though, neither, due to sleep, deprivation, noticed the blinking lights on one of the bio-pods.
/==/ 24 Hours Later /==/
Jasmine Arc (Director of Finances): So as a result of the repairs required and the need to relocate Grimm Development, plus the rental of said location… I’m sorry to say Jaune your operating budget is going to be lowered by sixty percent.
Jaune: How am I supposed to get ANY work done?
Jasmine Arc (Director of Finance): Well, fifteen percent of your budget is just your salary, and ten percent is overhead expenses like utilities. So you still on paper have fifteen percent to allocate towards project development.
Jaune: I was barely able to complete Wolfie under my normal budget! How do I…
Oleander Arc (Executive of Espionage): As important as this is to you, dear brother, I feel we have much more pressing matters. In particular, the assault on one of our SECRET and secure facilities, by the Red Huntress at that. We have a leak.
Saphron Arc (Director of PMC Operations): I can direct my teams to start searching for the leak. Though I would need some assistance from the Security Department.
Azalea Arc (Director of Internal Security): My department has already started to searching, with a focus on former employees.
Tyrian (Director of Legal): IF the leak is an employee, then we do not need to use the PMC forces to “black bag” the perpetrator. All our employees sign an iron clade NDA, and as such if YOU can give my department proof of their actions I can have my department bury them… legally.
Saphron Arc (Director of PMC Operations) Phooey, that’s no fun.
Salem: Be that as it may. We must be vigilant, and protective of our image, and as such we can not afford any rumors of misconduct on our behalf. What of the plan to infiltrate Beacon?
Oleander Arc (Executive of Espionage): We have contracted the Strategic Development Department, and they have drafted a report, for our consideration. Director Watts, if you please.
Arthur Watts (Director of Strategic Development): Upon closer examination of the proposal, we have come to the conclusion that it is inadvisable to sens Doctor Arc in as applicant. His lack of combat training, coupled with his aura not being unlocked, makes it a potentially hazardous work environment for him and as such after consulting with the Legal Department would give him grounds to sue.
Salem: I see. You wouldn’t do that to us, would you, Jaune?
Jaune: I… um… I…
Salem: Jaune?
Arthur Watts (Director of Strategic Development): If I may continue my Lady.
Salem: My apologies. Please, the floor is yours.
Arthur Watts (Director of Strategic Development): Upon further consideration, we have submitted adjustments to the proposal. Namely, that if the operation to get a more insightful information as to the nature of Beacon’s training practices, Jaune should attend as a member of an established team.
Oleander Arc (Executive of Espionage): We have already begun the process to screen potential applicants, though only needing two makes the process easier.
Jaune: Wait a second? Two? Aren’t teams made of four?
Oleander Arc (Executive of Espionage): They are, but as you and Wolfe Bete are both employees of Grimm Development
Wolfie: Since when?!?
Oleander Arc (Executive of Espionage): And this is a project for your department, of course you will both be members of the operation.
(== Table of Contents ==)
#rwby#miss kuroitsu from the monster development department#jaune arc#salem#jaune is a grimm designer#anthropomorphic grimm#humanoid grimm#wolf bete#All of Jaune's sisters outrank him in the organization#salem wants world domination not destruction
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holding onto a stuffed animal/pillow, imagining that it's their lover in their embrace instead for Carrie/Reggie?
Carrie was ready to pull her hair out. Not that this particular assignment was all that hard, just tedious as hell. Whose idea was it to require all senior’s to write a 12 page research paper in order to graduate anyway?
On top of all the other courses and music program requirements Carrie barely had the time for it. Effectively losing some of her precious weekend time in order to get it done.
She was staring at the document on her laptop frustrated that certain words were no longer looking like words. Was monotonous always spelled that way? And was the spell check absolutely certain complete wasn’t misspelled? Her thoughts were interrupted by a rhythmic knocking on her bedroom door.
Which could only really be one person.
Her dad would typically knock just the once before trying to talk to her through the door. Julie and Flynn would have texted, and wouldn’t just be showing up at her bedroom without some sort of ruckus at the front door first.
“I don’t have time right now, Reggie.” She called out, holding back a groan at finding a sentence that made absolutely no sense.
“Oh, but I miss you.” Reggie said, poking his head and shoulders through her door. “Feels like I haven’t seen you in weeks.”
“You saw me last weekend.”
“Yeah, at Eats and Beats for another open mic night.” His voice moved to behind her where the bed was. She glanced up to her mirror in time to see him dive onto her bed, face torn between a smile and a pout. “And we didn’t exactly get to hang out before you had to run off again.”
“I’ve had a lot of homework.” She said returning her focus to her paper, even if she struggled with writing and talking at the same time. “Speaking of, I really need to focus on this.”
“Want some help?” He cheerily asked and she bit back her smile. She’s not sure she’s ever going to get used to how much he wanted to just spend time with her. Especially now that she was also in on the ghost secret and they weren’t restricted to the studio anymore.
“If this was physics or Calculus I would take you up on that offer in a heartbeat.” She said, almost wishing she still had homework in either of those subjects so could switch over to it.
“Maybe I can just hang out until you're done?”
Carrie sent a glare his way through the mirror. Or attempted to anyway, the look lost some of its edge when she was met by his hopeful smile. “Fine. But don’t distract me and stay out of my stuff.”
He was quick to promise her with a bright smile and a giddy little bounce on her bed. She returned to her work with a small eye roll, and a small smile she couldn’t hide.
True to his word he kept to himself, though he wasn’t entirely quiet. Quietly muttering and making small noises. Carrie was able to ignore them for the most part, figuring he must be reading or something.
After an hour or so Carrie stretched her arms up over her head, finally content with what she had for her paper. As she did so her eyes drifted back to the mirror and spotted Reggie still on her bed. On her bed and using one of her teddy bears as if it was a puppet, reenacting some sort of fight scene.
“I thought I said not to go through my stuff.” She said, spinning around in her seat to fully face him.
“I didn’t.” Reggie’s smile faltered slightly. “This little guy was sitting with your pillows.”
She scowled, not so much at him but at the fact she forgot she’d left the teddy bear out. Though she struggled to stay upset for very long especially with how Reggie was now making the bear in question do a little happy dance.
“You done with homework?”
“For now.” She said as she joined him on the bed, barely remembering to not try to take hold of his hand. The fact she still couldn’t touch him was still a bit of a struggle.
Both of their smiles faltered slightly when Carrie’s phone chimed. She groaned seeing the message from Julie, asking if Reggie was with her. Apparently Luke had some breakthrough and absolutely needed the band back this instant. She was half tempted to not even let Reggie know since they barely spent any actual time together.
“Guess I gotta go.” He said after she let him know. A bizarre bittersweet flutter took over her heart seeing how hesitant he was to return to his band. Quickly he tapped the teddy bear’s muzzle to her cheek. “I’ll see you later.”
He vanished away with her gasp of breath, leaving her to wonder if the gesture was intentional. She pulled the teddy bear into a tight hug, burying her face in the top of its fuzzy head, sort of hoping he had meant it to be a surrogate kiss. Feeling that sting of jealousy as she wished she could hug him as easily as Julie could.
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Only Teeth
a starter for @saishuu-heiki
It had begun innocently enough. It was a young child’s dream to find that place again in the world, to find that warmth that was lost. Beloved jewel to unspoken disgrace, overnight, without warning or explanation, Genesis was left yearning for something he could neither describe nor tangibly hold. It was the scorn of the Banoran townspeople’s eyes, the pensive looks, the whispers. Once, they were filled with adoration, with smiles and laughter. But now, after so many years, such things were rose-tinted echoes that the freshly recruited SOLDIER hardly recognized.
One would think admission to the most coveted ranks in ShinRa’s imposing army would have been cause for celebration. But even at the entrance ceremony, Genesis stuck out like a sore thumb. Amongst the rows of fresh recruits, he was quite a bit older. He was far more freckle-faced, far less muscular, and if these were all overlooked, the bright red sash on his arm that no one else in the crowd bore truly did separate him from the rest. And it was not in a good way. Genesis had only been accepted via a niche, scarcely used program that specialized in magic and materia usage as a primary vector. At first, he thought there would be plenty of others like him, that he would rise through the ranks and prove every naysayer wrong, and turn every scornful eye to respect.
Genesis was wrong. And as the weeks turned into months, he became intimately acquainted with just how wrong he was. SOLDIER was predicated on the strength enhancing properties of mako and those that could withstand it. And it turned out that even those who passed the initial tests often dropped out to infantry as their tolerance failed. They dropped like flies. They puked during physical exams, were overtaken by fever, by memory loss, by a whole host of ailments that disqualified them from becoming the best of the best.
And, as it was in nature, when the environment was brutal, only the strongest would survive.
“Well, well, well… I guess 17 times the charm, Rhapsodos.” A brutish SOLDIER 3rd’s voice cut across the training room where Genesis had been planking on a mat. Even if his strength requirements were not the same to maintain his good standing, he had bare minimums. Cloudy eyes glared forward as Genesis pretended to not hear.
Then, a boot was placed square on his back, pressure mounting.
“I even heard they were so tired of you trying that they made up a whole new program. Isn’t that rich?” The 3rd chuckled as his little posse echoed his sentiments, surrounding their prey like a jackal.
Genesis’ breath labored, arms shaking beneath the weight, arms screaming. But he grit his teeth to hold his silence. He reminded himself of his own promise-- to turn every eye, make each disbeliever swallow their tongue. The example of stoicism and refinement that one lauded Sephiroth excluded was secretly every SOLDIER’s dream, even if they never had the chance to meet the prodigy face to face. Most were lucky to even be deployed with that one man army. With grace and skill like that, one had no use to respond to snapping dogs.
Only…
The more Genesis sweat, the more his muscles ached and stomach knotted, the more he was faced with a bitter reality; he was not Sephiroth. And his arms buckled, body flattened beneath the oppressive pressure. This was met with laughter, the 3rd’s sharp heel digging into his shoulder blades. “Awww. City life’s hard for a little country boy. You know, I heard there are still openings in infantry for a toilet scrubber. That is of course if your dainty little self can withstand such hard labor.”
Genesis did not have the luxury of grace or decorum. He did not have the reputation. He had only his teeth, his bones, his wrath, his indignation.
From outside the training hall, those passing were only mildly aware of the drama within. Some lingered at the doorway, curious, but knowing better than to get caught up on a SOLDIER’s ego trip and continued on. Others idly gossiped at the common room nearby or just got some much needed coffee in their sleep-deprived bodies. It was a more or less unremarkable scene, until the entire floor of the building shook with an explosion. Those in the hallway were immediately enveloped in the plume of a fireball, and the common room was filled with hoarse choking and blindly fumbling through the smoke. The thick metal walls encasing the training room began to crack and in some places even melted-- that was until the fire alarms began to blare, water steaming down in an attempt to put out the blaze.
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Supporting you
Aki x OC (Sae), Modern AU
Summary: Akiyasu, an onmyoji, is a college student in the modern era together with Sae. Sae is suffering over group requirements.
Comfort fic for Sae who has a ton of school works to do.༼ つ ◕_◕ ༽つ
Word count: 436
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"Hey, should I curse them?" Akiyasu asked after hearing her rant about her current situation.
Sae who was on the verge of tears looked up and saw the seriousness in Akiyasu's eyes.
She wiped the corners of her eyes and replied, "You don't have to. If they won't help me, then I'll do it myself."
"In that state?" Akiyasu snapped sarcastically.
Sae was aware that he is only acting that way out of concern for her. Still, it wouldn't be right to do that out of spite.
When she kept silent, Akiyasu sighed audibly. "I hate that I can't do anything for you even when I can see you suffering. Maybe I really should shift to your program. It's still not too late for me to do that."
It was not the first time that Akiyasu offered to do that but of course Sae also wouldn't want that. When it comes to a point that Akiyasu feels baffled enough that he can't help her, he always says that line.
Hearing that usual line brought the corners of Sae's lips turn slightly upward. She then replied her usual line, "You know I wouldn't want you to do that anyway. You have your own dream to fulfill. I'll never take that away from you."
"Then, what do you suggest? Should I rat on them for you?"
Sae contemplated for a moment and said, "For now, I think I have to finish this up so we can submit it on time."
Akiyasu rolled his eyes. "There you go again. You're too nice for your own good." He sighed again and added, "What good are these powers if I can't even use it to help my girlfriend?"
"I know at least one good thing -- your powers got you a girlfriend. Don't forget that we met because of it."
"Fine. But if I you don't rat them out soon, I'll be the one to do so. Or else, they might get a grade that they don't deserve over a group output that they barely helped out," Akiyasu said reluctantly.
Sae hugged Akiyasi at his acquiescence. "Having your company is enough for now. At least you'll stay up late with me."
He patted her head and sighed again. "Of course, it seems that this is all I can do for you now. Would you like a warm drink? I'll make you a cup."
"Thanks a lot, Aki."
Sae then proceeded to work on the group requirements that required her to do most of the work because of her uncooperative groupmates. She is thankful for the moral support that Akiyasu unconditionally offers her.
#comfort fic for sae#aki x oc#aki x sae#arr fanfic#ayakashi akiyasu#arr modern au#ayakashi romance reborn#ayakashi rr#ayakoi#ayakashi koi meguri
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idk about NCCC, but I know that in general AmeriCorps is a predatory program that targets young vulnerable people, often escaping abusive situations, and forces them to comply with draconian rules under threat of being literally dumped right back where you started off
When I was working a conservation corps in Tennessee, I was the highest paid AmeriCorps trail crew worker in the country at my level - I made $6.55 an hour. I worked with people making $2 an hour. One of my friends who I met later was working with a $4 a day food budget, and routinely went hungry because he could barely afford his remaining food and gas off of his measly paycheck. When I got to my job, they recommended we apply for Food Stamps - this is a somewhat-standard practice for AmeriCorp employers. No job that recommends you go on food stamps on the first day is worth it
AmeriCorps is an institution that provides exploited labor to local and state projects for a lower cost than professional, adequately-compensated labor. It relies on a neoliberal system of lowering taxes to next-to-nothing and then requiring public works projects to be funded by grants from rich people who pay next-to-nothing in taxes. And those grants often stipulate that the projects *have* to be done by volunteers, and considering AmeriCorps workers are "full-time paid volunteers", and considering unpaid volunteers will never put in the hours to complete some of these projects, it means that AmeriCorps workers are the *only* ones who can oftentimes even work on projects since local and state governments allocate so little money to public lands (this is mostly true for trail-conservation, but the same trends are there for other public works sectors)
As for AmeriCorps itself? I sure hope you're working for an organization that only pays you through AmeriCorps, and that you aren't directly employed under them. Otherwise, you have no workman's comp, so if you get injured on the job, tough fucking luck. Have fun paying those medical bills on a $2 an hour job that you can't even work anymore. Wanna organize your workers and make your situation better? Too bad, you're not allowed to - and even if you were, they intentionally keep seasons short to thwart unionization efforts
Luckily you get partially paid in scholarship money that you can only use if you have the capacity to attend a higher education institution. And if you work for two whole years you get $12,000 in scholarship money - not terrible, but a very low amount for all the time you put into the program. And if you want to work trail work in the National Forest Service, you oftentimes *have* to work for AmeriCorps to get the requisite experience to be a serious applicant for professional positions, since there oftentimes isn't an alternative. I knew a guy on his 10th year of working for AmeriCorps because he got stuck in that trap. You receive no scholarship money compensation after your second year working for AmeriCorps
Wanna have a fling with a coworker? If discovered, you'll be sent to a tribunal and if found to be fraternizing, if you don't have your own transportation, you'll be sent back to the address you listed on your application form. Did I mention that a significant fraction of AmeriCorps workers are young, poor, queer, and escaping abusive households? What an intensive to stay in line when the alternative is being delivered back to your abusers
Not everyone has a terrible experience with AmeriCorps, but so many people I've talked to have, and it's an institution that enables this kind of treatment. I make a point of begging everyone I know not to go into AmeriCorps - and I was one of those people with a generally good experience. I've just seen too many of my queer siblings hurt by this institution to let more of that happen
The guy before me is repeating what's on the brochure. If any of those points interest you, work for NPS, work for USFS, work for BLM (either one!), there are so many seasonal jobs in municipalities around the country - many of which have accommodations like room and board!
I had to escape an abusive situation and I used an AmeriCorps job to do that, and it almost left me homeless - don't follow in my footsteps
And also, don't join the US military: it's just a slightly-better paying abusive institution with the bonus of letting you participate in the systematic murder of black and brown people in the Global South

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Stephen Gariepy - phaware® interview 508
Canadian resident, Stephen Gariepy, was diagnosed with Chronic Thromboembolic Pulmonary Hypertension (CTEPH) in 2018. After initially being active in senior hockey, his condition worsened, leading to difficulty breathing and performing daily tasks. Gariepy continues to live with this rare and terminal disease, adapting to the limitations it imposes on his daily life.
My name’s Stephen Gariepy. I’m from Edmonton Alberta in Canada. I was first diagnosed with CTEPH in 2018. What had happened was I had just recently retired and was beginning to enjoy retired life. I had joined a senior hockey league and was very involved in that playing hockey three times a week. Of course, everything came crashing down with this diagnosis. Every September I’d go out and do some recreational skating and preparation for the season openers, in October. I had started my skating program. There was a large clock on one of the ends of the rink, and I always use that to guide how my times were doing. I was noting there was a little improvement. I’m going, “Wow, I must have really got out of shape this summer.” So I continued my skating, was getting nowhere with it, so I figured, “Oh, well, I’ll be like the other guys and I’ll just play into shape.” Fortunately, I was able to do a couple of games, but my breathing was very compromised. I didn’t know what was going on. Then, I got a shoulder injury and that pulled me out of hockey and then I could concentrate on why I wasn’t breathing. This progressively really got worse to the point… I live in a two-story house and I was barely making it up the stairs. It was just ridiculous. I didn’t know what was going on. Fortunately, my GP I’ve had for 30 years, so the familiarity with me and him was very fortunate, because I went in to see him explaining what was going on. He could visibly see I couldn’t even breathe. So we set up a bunch of tests. He was able to pick off right from the original chest X-ray that it appeared that I might have pulmonary hypertension. What he did with that was completed the rest of the tests, sent in the referral to the Pulmonary Hypertension Clinic in Edmonton. I was able to get in there within the usual four to six weeks. I got my appointment there. I met with the specialist. They did a CT scan during the appointment and an ECG. I got lost in emergency somewhere, because they couldn’t fit me in anywhere. I had to go through the emergency system. During my appointment, finally, around 9:00, I was able to get it done. Fortunately for me, it proved the dedication of the staff at the Pulmonary Hypertension Clinic. It was a Friday night and the doctor waited until it came through. He was going to Disney World the next morning. I don’t know how he did it, but he stayed. Then, he came and got my wife and I from the emergency back to his office, back to the clinic. And he quickly looked at the CT scan and he advised me that yes, I had chronic thromboembolic pulmonary hypertension.
At that point, he told me the only option was if I had an operation, which would have to be done in Toronto, because they had lost their search and had Edmonton. They went at it right away. There was another test that was required for the surgeons in Toronto, which was the heart catheterization and some other test. I’m not sure what they all were. I was getting tested so much I couldn’t keep track anymore. Then, they had to set up a video interview with the surgeon in Toronto. That was Marc de Perrot. Great man, very impressive person. He determined that I was a candidate for a pulmonary thromboendarterectomy. They also noted that after the heart test and all that, they should probably do a bypass while I was opened up and that would allegedly make my heart stronger to survive the endarterectomy. So from October when I was diagnosed, I was able to get down to Toronto for the surgery. Of course, that came as quite an expense. The government did provide airfare and, of course, I had to travel with somebody, so I brought my wife. Then I had the surgery. It worked out to be, I think it was a little over 13 hours, because they had to do the bypass initially, and then they went in and did it. I was septic. I developed pneumonia twice. The real kicker here was that I turned out to have allergic reaction to the Heparin and then I developed a blood clot in my leg. The Heparin reaction like that is unbelievably rare. The only way they confirm it is to send your DNA to a laboratory in Hamilton, where then, of course, it was confirmed. To make it a long story short, ultimately it ended up the thromboendarterectomy being futile because I instantly re-clotted because of the Heparin allergy. With all the complications and everything, I wound up in Toronto in the hospital there for 45 days. I came out no better than when it went in, actually. Possibly a little worse. As I did not get better, I continued on with the Pulmonary Hypertension Clinic and they re-referred me back to Dr. Perrot in Toronto to look at other options. Ultimately, what was concluded was that I was too high of a risk to endure another pulmonary thromboendarterectomy, because of existing scar tissues and things of that nature just made the procedure too risky for me to have. But they did conclude that they could refer me to a vascular surgeon who could look at doing what’s called a balloon pulmonary angioplasty. That was arranged for me to go back to Toronto. That doctor said until he got in there, he couldn’t tell. Whether or not he could proceed with it, because if it was 100% blocked, he had nothing to work with, he couldn’t get a catheter around it. But he said he wouldn’t know that until he went in. But he saw some kind of backflow with the blood and figured he could attempt it. So I was scheduled to have it done again the next day for both lungs. He was able to get through, inserted a balloon in one lung. That worked in opening up one of the arteries. Then, he went in to the other lung and successfully opened that one as well, which was great. Then, we flew home. I felt much better. I was still on oxygen, but that didn’t last very long. At some point in the future, if I meet the requirements, I will be subjected to a lung transplant, but that’s down the road. I just take it every day by day, wake up in the morning and appreciate that I’m awake. On a humorous note here, what pulled me through the last time through the first endarterectomy was I said, “Please let me live so I can watch…” One of my daughters was just finishing off a degree, and I just wanted to be around for her to graduate. I take this as an omen. She was accepted for a post-graduate degree, but she started in September. So, I figured that’s got to give me two years because I have to see her graduate again! My wife just recently retired in June, which is fantastic because being alone with this thing, you’re just sitting at home dwelling on your illness, so it’s great. I have my partner back. We’re guardedly proceeding with our retirement and seeing what limitations I have. There’s all the flying restrictions. I have to go through all that kind of crap, but that’s just part of the disease and learning to live with it. I finally after years and years through the Pulmonary Hypertension Association of Canada, I was finally able to get hooked up with a PH buddy. I talked to him about twice, because he had had endarterectomy 10 years previous. After the 10 years he was deemed PH-free, so he kind of disappeared. I got to start working on that again. When I was diagnosed with CTEPH, the first emotion is, “God hates me. What did I do?” You get a diagnosis like this. First thing you do, like everybody does, you look it up on the internet. It says one to three years, you’re dead. God. You go through the five stages, right? Anger, denial, until ultimately you’re at peace with it. I know what I’m up against. I’ve been through it all and living day by day. I wake up, I’m happy I woke up. I do everything I possibly can. Of course, there’s good days and bad days. There’s days I can barely get out of bed, and there’s days I feel okay. Of course, if I go to cut the lawn, I’ll throw the oxygen tank on and get out there. I can’t do anything physical just the way it is, at least without oxygen. The surgery is a major surgery. It is huge. You’re made hypothermic. They stop your heart. They stop your brain. You’re clinically dead for 20 minutes for three periods, so you’re dead for an hour. The reality is that I’m living with a terminal disease. I realize that. I’ve gone through all the stages of grief and everything, and I just carry on. I know there is possibly a chance of getting a transplant down the road. By the time that happens, I wouldn’t even be eligible till I’m 70, and then the whole process will have to be reevaluated again. Until such time, I’m just going day by day, living with it, going through every emotion known to mankind. I got nothing left. I’m just living. It’s such a rare disease, you almost get tired of trying to explain it, so you say, “I’m sick.” There’s no denying it’s hard, what I’ve been through. I don’t think anybody’s been through, but I’m still here talking to you, so I’m winning. You just adapt and do what you can do. My name is Stephen Gariepy, and I’m aware that I’m rare.
Learn more about pulmonary hypertension trials at www.phaware.global/clinicaltrials. Engage for a cure: www.phaware.global/donate #phaware Share your story: [email protected] Like, Subscribe and Follow us: www.phawarepodcast.com. @phacanada
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Summary: Researcher Kaze and trial candidate Oscar share a quiet moment on their way home and bond over fear for the future.
Word count: 1.2k
Prior reading: None required
Kaze leaned over the railing between the street and the lab. Well, "lab" was putting it generously; it was really just a cramped little suite downtown, on the fifth floor of one office building among countless others. Kline Innovations -- the company he worked for -- had recently acquired it in an effort to branch out to more clinical trials. All the fancier equipment was in the main building, which Kaze rarely got to visit.
Today had been the first round of meeting with candidates for a new program Kaze himself was in charge of. The work had mostly been taking blood and skin samples from a variety of humans who showed partial mutations. With enough data, they might be able to narrow down the genetic switches responsible for making the mutations permanent; if things went well, it could potentially lead to a cure. That would be a long way away, though -- likely beyond Kaze's lifetime.
Rain poured down in front of him, the awning above his head causing the rushing droplets to barely miss his face. The white noise of the rain hitting the asphalt seemed to reflect Kaze's rushing thoughts; it was already dark out, but his brain refused to keep quiet. If he could hasten the path to a cure, a life spent using Sensecraft without fear of consequences would be within his grasp. He could put his Visimancy to work even on frivolous things and never need to worry about the changes. It was far from realistic -- Kline had already spent so long hunting for a cure that Kaze's own efforts were unlikely to contribute much -- but it was so tempting to think about.
The door to the office building opened, and someone else joined Kaze at the railing. He looked to see Oscar, one of the trial candidates he'd met with earlier.
Oscar was quite mutated already, well on his way to becoming a Chronoborn. He had an ashy skin tone, broad pointed ears, claws on his hands, and a long reptilian tail curling behind him. He even shaved his head to deal with the patchy hair growth. Combined with his angular jaw and heavy brow, he was an intimidating sort. And now, he was leaning over the rail and staring out into the rain in silence, just as Kaze had been doing.
For several minutes, neither of them moved. Only the sounds of rain and passing traffic kept them company. Kaze glanced over nervously; what was going on? Why hadn't Oscar said anything? Kaze didn't want to imply the company wasn't welcome, but--
"Want one?" Oscar asked.
Startled, Kaze looked down at Oscar's offered hand, which held a box of cigarettes. "Oh... oh, no thank you," he said with a stiff shake of his head. He used to smoke back in college, but never touched the stuff these days.
Oscar nodded, lit one up for himself, and took a slow, thoughtful drag. Blowing the smoke out into the falling rain, where it immediately dissipated, he turned towards Kaze again and said, "Are you doing alright?"
"H-Huh? Yes, I'm... I'm fine."
"It's not my business or anything, but I'm a pretty good read of people. And you, Dr. Hawkinson, don't seem fine to me. Something on your mind?"
Kaze stumbled through a few false starts of sentences, trying to think of the best way to politely deflect. He wanted to keep things strictly professional, but he also didn't want to offend or patronize.
"No pressure," Oscar said with a shrug. "I'm a taxi driver, so I'm used to people spilling their guts out to me, is all." He turned back to the falling rain.
A few seconds of floundering later, Kaze found himself being honest. "I'm scared of using my Craft," he blurted, mortified but unable to stop the admissions from tumbling out. "It's all I was looking forward to for years, it's one of the largest reasons I moved here, but the changes are terrifying. I don't want to end up like--" He froze, realizing he was probably crossing a line. "Well, you know," he finished lamely.
Oscar took another drag. If he was offended, he didn't show it. "Sightcraft, I take it?"
"That's right." Kaze stared at the ground, wanting to crawl into himself and forget this ever happened.
One more inhale, and then Oscar snuffed the cigarette out on the railing and tucked it back into its box. "I used to be scared too," he said, still staring out into the downpour. "Once you get used to messing with how your brain processes time, it's hard to give up. I could slow the whole world down and have a good while all to myself, or speed it up and skip right over the boring stuff. I blew through some of the changes so quick it scared off my partner."
"Oh... I'm sorry."
"Don't be, they weren't worth it anyways. Shook me up for a little while, but I went back to it eventually. Timecraft gets me through life. I guess I stopped caring about the side effects, they're worth it to me. But still, I get it." Idly, Oscar scratched a line in the railing's paint with one of his claws. "It's hard to tell where the line is."
Kaze pursed his lips. The silence that hung over the pair was killing him. "Do you ever get nightmares?" he muttered.
"Oh, sure. I still dream about turning into one of those things they shoot on sight."
"But then, how do you live with it? If you keep going as you are, maybe it'll really happen."
"Maybe... but probably not. It's a risk worth taking if you ask me. Shouldn't let your fear hold you back from something that'd make you happy, Doctor."
Kaze frowned, trying to let the words sink in.
"Tell you what," Oscar said. "How about you break out your sightcraft right now? Something fun, just for the hell of it. If you keep letting your fear get the better of you like this, it'll strangle all the life out of you until you can't remember what you were even getting out of bed for."
"Something fun..." Kaze looked all around the city street, until his gaze finally settled on the night sky looming overhead.
Risks worth taking... hm.
Taking a deep breath, Kaze shut his eyes and called on his Visimancy to focus them beyond their means. When he opened them again, the ambient light of the city initially blinded him; it took some trial and error to tweak his vision in just the right way, to pull in distant light without registering any in his periphery.
But when it clicked, and he looked up again, the sight took his breath away.
"Here, lemme see," Oscar said, laying a hand on Kaze's left shoulder. He wasn't too practiced in using his Craft to affect others yet, but it felt natural enough when he tried. He knew it worked when Oscar gave a low, amazed whistle.
Above them, Kaze and Oscar saw through all the usual pollution of the countless streetlamps, window lights, and glowing signs around them, to a brilliant nebula of gleaming stars.
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