#I might spell check this but i probably won’t remember to

[nerdyquestier]

Oscellot feels like it’s the plural, so I suggest oscellittle as the true name of the singular jungle cat in minecraft

* ocelot, but point still stands, ocelittle feels cute for singular bc one cat can’t be enough to be called a lot

[wingedhallows]

I'll be fine; sirius black

pairing: marauders (sirius idk ) x reader | 1.6k words plot: betrayel has consequences, in most cases, revenge prompt: "I'll be fine" authors note: this is the happier version of ( i won't make it, love ) requested by the lovely @arwensloanebarnes , i hope you somewhat like it :)

navigation | sad ending

The alleway was dimly lit, the ground wet from prior rainfall. Your hands were shoved into the pockets of your jacket, your right hand rested on your wand. Atreus held the map out for you, finger resting on top of an apartment complex around the corner.

“They might hide right here.” He mumbled, you nodded and looked ahead.

Atreus was one weird individual but he was nice, he didn’t ask too many questions and he made efforts to hold a conversation. Sirius was against the mission, he had begged Albus to swap Atreus with him, wanting to stay by your side. You had assured him to check in once in a while, the paper bird rested in your pocket, ready to be sent.

“We’ll go soon, Firewhiskey’s on me tonight-” Atreus didn’t have a chance to finish what he had said as he suddenly dropped to the ground, eyes wide, dead.

With a gasp you whipped around, wand tightly grasped in your hand. “Atreus!” You whispered. Before you stood a Death Eater, his face masked and..and.. you had to squint. To convince yourself that your eyes weren’t playing tricks on you, but in front of you stood one of your friends, a member of the order,

Peter Pettigrew.

“Peter?” A sick cold feeling spread in your chest, betrayal cursing through your veins as you realized. He had been the rat, the spy who cost so many of your friends lifes.

All those years you spent being friends, laughing together, drinking your sorrows away together, all those years of friendship were a hoax, a lie. “What the fuck?” You whispered as you unbeknownst  to you, lowered your wand.

“Peter, w-what-”You have to understand, Y/N, there was no other way.” Tears formed in your eyes.

You’d die here in this alleway, you won’t ever see Sirius again. Would Harry remember you? Probably not, he’s just a baby. You raised your wand and sent a wordless spell towards Peter, sending him off his feet. His little friend jumped to the front and whipped his wand in the air.

“Confringo!” He yelled and you deflected the spell with a hast movement of your arm. “Crucio!” Peter yelled after he had gotten to his feet again, catching you off guard. Your body slammed to the ground, your elbow shattered with the sudden contact.

The pain cursed through your body like a wildfire, from the top of your head all the way to your toes. A horrific scream left your lips as you desperately tried to shake the effects of the curse.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. You were always a great friend.” Peter spoke before he grasped your head between his hands and slammed it down with as much strength as he could muster. Your eyesight wavered, the impact of your skull on the cement had surely cracked something.

A groan left you as you tried to stay awake. “Sectumsempra.” He breathed as you could feel the effect of the spell, something hot and wet bloomed in your chest. You had to get away, get to Sirius, to James and Remus to Lily and Harry. You had to live, to not die here by the hands of this traitorous rat.

With the last bit of strength left in your broken body, you grasped your wand and apparated away, away to a place Peter wouldn��t find.

You crashed onto the patio of the Potter house, the door you had hit upon impact sounded with a loud thud. You could feel the blood creeping up your throat, you choked on the liquid. You had to squint as your blood splattered everywhere.

The door swung open and all you could really hear outside of your desperate choking and heaving were a mass of voices and bodies. “Oh my god-Remus, get out the way-Lily, get a towel-No, what happened?”

Sirius and James dragged you inside, your hand swung around, desperate to get someone’s attention. Lily fell to her knees beside you, hand on your face as she tried to get some words out. Sirius had his hand on your upper body, face in a crying mess.

“What was it?” Lily tried. You choked some more blood out before you mustered a whisper. “Sectum-sectumsempra.” “There’s so much blood!” James spoke, not caring for the carpet Sirius and you had gifted them when they first moved in.

“Love, look at me-this-this…w-what happened?” He stammered, hands on your face, trying to wipe the blood from your beautiful face.

“I’ll be fine.” You whispered, Lily would know what to do. She had nodded her head as she now stood above you, wand stretched in your direction.

“Vulnera Sanetur.” She whispered in a sing song voice and suddenly all the blood that had leaked from your beaten body seemed to wander right back to where it belonged.

The blood which had crawled up your throat simmered down again, oxygen filled your lungs and for the first time in what felt like forever you went limb, the adrenaline of almost dying wearing off.

“Fuck.” You whispered. “Love.” Sirius spoke, his hands around you in a second.

“What the fuck happened?” James said after a moment of silence. “Water.” Remus was quick to leave the room and fetch you a glass. You lifted yourself off the floor, Sirius’ hand tucked under you to keep you from falling. You sat yourself down onto the couch, a sigh left your lips, you were sore.

You pushed your hand into Sirius’ pants and took out the pack of cigarettes which you just knew was always there. He didn’t protest and lit the stick for you. You had to close your eyes for a moment to enjoy the burning sensation in your lungs.

“I’ll tell you what the fuck happened.” You opened your eyes and took another drag of your cigarette. “Thank you, Moony.” Remus placed his hand on your shoulder and gave you a small smile. You chugged the contents of the glass down in one go and took another drag.

“Peter fucking Pettigrew happened.” Your friends were confused, you could see it. Their faces contorted into confusion. “That’s what i looked like as well, friends.” You took another drag from your cigarette.

“Peter is a Death Eater and he killed Atreus, tried to murder me as well.” Sirius jumped to his feet, face bewildered. “Are you sure?” He spoke, your eyebrows furrowed. “Yes, love, I’m fucking sure.” You pushed your right foot over the other and rubbed your eyebrow with your thumb in irritation.

“Peter’s the rat who has been spying on the order, that’s why so many of our missions failed, why so many of us had to die.” Lily placed a hand on your leg before she spoke.

“We have to talk to Dumbledore, this is serious.” Sirius sat himself down again, taking a drag from your cigarette before he snaked an arm around your shoulder. “I’m sorry, I didn’t want to yell at you.” You nodded and placed a kiss on his cheek. “I know, it’s hard to believe that one of us is a traitor.”

-

The tension in the room could be cut by a knife, you had agreed to stay in the back, to not reveal yourself yet. “He’ll be here any minute.” You could hear Lily say, Sirius was pacing, you stood hidden behind a cabinet. Albus sat himself down.

“Calm yourselves.” He had said and the others sat down as well. Suddenly the front door opened and a disheveled Peter made his way into the kitchen, his face in a small smile.

“Hello there, friends.” He said awkwardly. You had to fight with every fiber in your body to not jump from your hiding spot and slash his throat right then and there. “What’s the matter?” He spoke before he took his coat off, a small innocent smile still decorated his face.

“Y/N didn’t return from her mission.” James said, dropping the bait. Just for a second you could catch the flash of guilt in his features before he furrowed his brows and pretended to care.

“Really? Oh my god, what if something happened?” You couldn’t take it, you weren’t as good at pretending as Peter was, without another thought you apparated right behind Peter, the gust of wind startled him. His eyes were wide as you moved to whisper into his ear.

“Liar.”

He stirred around with a gasp. You looked down on him with a sour snarl.

“Surprised, Peter?” He fell on his bottom and scrambled away from you.

“Surprised you couldn’t manage to actually kill me?” He scrambled to his feet and shook his head.

“But, but-”But, but, you tried to kill me, Peter!” You yelled before you took a step towards him. Your wand rested on his chin, his eyes squinted.

“You Death Eater rat.” 

Albus rose from his seat and spoke. “We indeed have a rat in our circles.” He paused to push your wand from his throat. Sirius was by your side, his face contorted in anger.

“Show us your forearm, Peter.” Peter tried to protest before James and Remus moved to hold him still, Lily pushed up his sleeve and with close to no surprise it was decorated with the dark mark.

“Why, Peter?” Sirius spoke, face in a painful expression.

“So many of us had to die pointless deaths, for what? Your friends had to die, to endure torture and for what?” He yelled, you held his arm to not have him attack the rat. Peter shook his head and his lips contorted in a pained snarl.

“You’re all fools, the Dark Lord's ways are the only ways.”

Albus didn’t falter for long before he had Peter taken away to Azkaban, to not harm any more of the members, his friends.

[drxmxss]

Just Once | Taeyong x Reader / Jaehyun x Reader

this was requested !! tysm again ❤️ i hope you like it!!

summary: jaehyun and the reader are dating.. but what happens when taeyong develops a crush?

warnings: cheating (sorry jaehyun 😔), taeyong is a little pervy/kinda subby, smut, unprotected sex (do not do this!!) begging, probably some more but I forgot.

please excuse any spelling errors! thanks and enjoy! 😊

To be fair, Taeyong saw you first. He still remembers the too low top you wore to the bar that showed way too much skin for the middle of winter. Nonetheless, Taeyong was enthralled by you. You were just so gorgeous to him and he swore it was love at first sight. He was trying to psych himself up to go over and talk to you but as soon as he turned around to walk towards you, Jaehyun was already talking to you.

Taeyong already knew his chance was already out the window, and drowned out his sorrows with another drink as he watched both of you from afar. He knew how Jaehyun was, he knew how easy it was for him to pick up girls and you already had a sparkle in your eyes just after a few minutes of talking to him. It was over before it even started.

However, Taeyong also knew his best friend had a habit of dropping girls as quickly as he picked them up, which shouldn’t have given Taeyong as much comfort as it did. At least he would only have to watch this one time.

Wrong.

Per usual the universe held a personal grudge against Taeyong and soon enough Jaehyun would tell him that you two had actually began dating one day at lunch.

“We just really hit it off.” Jaehyun told him “She’s really funny and you already saw how gorgeous she was. I was an idiot if I let her go you know?”

Taeyong hummed, using every bit of strength in him not to throw a fork at Jaehyun’s head. He knew it was stupid to be jealous, to be angry that his best friend had found someone he really liked. But why did it have to be you?

So when Jaehyun started bringing you around their shared apartment more and more, Taeyong was slowly going insane. He couldn’t ignore you or be rude to you. 1. He didn’t have the strength to do so. 2. If he did, it wouldn’t take much for you to figure out he was actually in love with you, he’s read all the books. The only option that made sense was to be your friend. In a weird way it made him feel guilty, he had all these feelings for his best friend’s girlfriend and now he’s trying to be friends with her? He was not a good person.

But all of that didn’t matter once he was with you. Sometimes you would come to the apartment before Jaehyun got home and Taeyong would take the opportunity to talk with you, whether it be about your day or the new show you were watching. Even when Jaehyun came home, you two would still be talking. Thankfully Jaehyun wasn’t particularly jealous, so Taeyong was grateful to still be in your life, even if you weren’t his.

That was until late one night, he got a message from you.

I miss you.

[Image]

Taeyong choked once he opened the message. It was a picture of you. Topless. On his phone. On his screen. Topless. No shirt. Boobs. On his screen. Your boobs. He short circuited. (He also never felt blood rush to his cock so fast.)

What should he say??? You had obviously picked the wrong number, this was definitely meant for Jaehyun. Taeyong felt sick.

Y/N did you check who you were sending this to?

Taeyong replied and threw his phone on his bed, slapping his hands over his face, embarrassed. What was he gonna do now? It was already hard enough pretending he was already thinking about how your tits looked under your shirt when you talked to him about the new cookie recipe you tried. Now he had nothing to imagine! He was so fucked.

Oh my god Taeyong. I’m sorry don’t look!!

Don’t tell Jaehyun he might kill you.

Taeyong chuckled at your response. God you were cute. Nope, he told himself, don’t think about how cute you are.

Trust me I won’t tell him. No worries.

Taeyong sighed as he laid down on his bed, staring up at the ceiling. Perfect. Great, the girl of his dreams just sent him a super hot boob picture and now he has to act like he doesn’t care.

Unless.

No, Taeyong thought, don’t say anything else just pretend it didn’t happen. It’s your best friend’s girlfriend. Taeyong fights with himself, trying to ignore the throbbing in his cock and the nagging feeling he has to say one more thing to you.

Fuck it, he thinks, it won’t do any harm. You can just ignore him.

Taeyong picks up his phone and it feels like he’s typing forever before he sends one message to you.

You’re beautiful btw. Sorry I looked.

-

You stare at the message on your screen. Trying to process what Taeyong has said.

You should be angry right? Your boyfriend’s friend called you beautiful and admitted to looking at a picture of your boobs! That’s bad!

But why does it turn you on? Why do you feel flattered? You should be angry!

After a few minutes of back and forth you realize it doesn’t solve anything to just stare at a screen. You also don’t want this to continue through text, you should confront Taeyong about this! He can’t just say things like that.

So you call him.

After two rings, he picks up. You hear him breathing for a moment before hearing his voice. “Hello?”

“Taeyong?” You say, suddenly unable to think of words.

“Yeah y/n? Are you alright?” Taeyong says. You scoff. “Am I alright?” You repeat.

Silence. Taeyong doesn’t say anything.

“Y/N I’m sorry. Please let’s just forget this happened okay?” Taeyong whispers, like someone would be listening to your call. You don’t reply at first, still processing what to say.

“You think I’m beautiful?” You ask softly, you know it’s wrong but you have to know the answer. This is crazy, but you can’t help it.

Taeyong doesn’t answer you, so you ask again. “Taeyong, do you think I’m beautiful?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” He finally says, and you notice he sounds a little breathless. “Have you looked in a mirror? You’re gorgeous.”

You chuckle once, “Taeyong you know you can’t just say things like that…”

“Why not huh?” He snaps back, “I’m so sick of this” you hear him grumble. You’re a little shocked at his reaction. “Sick of what?”

“Sick of pretending like I don’t think you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. Pretending like I just wanna be your friend. Pretending like I don’t think about you every fucking second of every damn day.” Taeyong confesses.

Without thinking, you hang up the phone. You immediately feel guilty and mean, but you don’t wanna hear anything else. Maybe he’s been drinking or something, he doesn’t know what hes saying. Maybe this is all just a bad dream and you’re gonna wake up tomorrow and everything will be normal.

You don’t know much, but you do know you are never ever no matter what forever ever going to tell Jaehyun about this.

-

“Did you send Taeyong a picture of your boobs?” Jaehyun asks you at lunch the next day.

Motherfucker.

You choke on your water. “What?”

“Taeyong, our friend, my roomate. Your boobs.” Jaehyun says slowly again, looking at you from across the table with a way too calm expression.

You want to crawl into a hole and die so bad right now, but instead you decide to look stupider. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” You deny, looking away from Jaehyun.

“Y/N he showed me the message this morning. It was an accident obviously you don’t have to lie to me.” Jaehyun says, again way too calmly for your liking.

‘Showed me the message’ you replay in your mind. Did Taeyong show him the part where he said you were beautiful? What is wrong with that guy?

You try to process everything in your head while still looking at Jaehyun’s indifferent expression. What the hell is wrong with him too actually? Why isn’t he more upset with you?

“You don’t care?” You ask, “You look like you’re just reading the weather forecast to me. ‘It’s gonna rain today oh and also Taeyong saw your titties.’ Jaehyun smiles at you, “Well no it’s not that I don’t care.” He says.

“But?” You reply.

“But..” Jaehyun sighs “I know you. I know Taeyong. I know our relationship. Taeyong is very honest with me, always has been. He said you sent him the picture accidentally and he deleted it in front of me and thats it.”

Well he didn’t mention the phone call, whether that’s good or bad you don’t know yet. But you do know Jaehyun isn’t angry, which is good.

“I was so embarrassed..” You tell him, “It was meant for you I promise.” Jaehyun smiles softly at you again, “I know and it’s alright. Just try to be more careful yeah? Luckily this time it was Taeyong. If you had sent it to Mark it might’ve killed him.”

You both laugh, and you feel a little weight go off your shoulders. This was just a funny story to tell later, you think, Taeyong didn’t mean what he said.

You decide then and there you won’t think about it anymore.

-

Two weeks have passed since the incident, and Taeyong has not gotten over it. At all.

He feels like a sick loser, he kept the picture you sent rubbing his cock raw to it every night since. Sometimes twice. Or three times. Four. Who’s counting?

God he’s terrible. Jaehyun is one of his best friends and here he is looking at his girlfriend’s boobs.

To make matters worse, Jaehyun wasn’t even angry when Taeyong told him about what happened, he just laughed! Taeyong thought for sure he would get angrier, and when he didn’t he just felt guiltier.

On top of that, now Taeyong had to try even harder to pretend he wasn’t crazy about you. Like right now, at the stupid dinner he stupidly agreed to come to with you and Jaehyun because he didn’t want things to be weird. Which is impossible.

It was disgustingly hard for him not to stare at you. You had a cute little cooking apron on from when you prepared dinner for the three of you. Taeyong only watched your mouth as you and Jaehyun spoke, imagine what it would feel like wrapped around his-

“Taeyong?” Jaehyun’s voice sucked him back to reality, “Did you hear me?”

Taeyong felt his face get hot, embarrassed he shook his head “No I’m sorry. Long day at work I’m kind of out of it.”

“No worries man but unfortunately I just got a big emergency call from work.” Jaehyun said “I hate to cut dinner short but my boss was pretty pissed. You’ll help Y/N clean this up yeah?”

Oh no. Taeyong. Alone. With you. Oh no.

Oh yes.

NO! Bad thoughts bad thoughts!

“Y-yeah.” Taeyong murmured. “Of course.” He smiled softly at you, who nodded.

“Go on Jae.” You said in your sweet voice, making Taeyong already regret everything. “We’ll be here when you get back!”

Taeyong watched Jaehyun give you a kiss goodbye before hastily heading out the front door. Leaving you and him silent at the dining table. You look down at your food, playing with it.

“I’m sorry.” Taeyong blurts out, suddenly feeling hot again. You look up confused “What do you mean?”

“For what happened. And for telling Jaehyun before you.” Taeyong says, standing up quickly to put his plate in the sink. You shook your head “No worries. It was a mistake.” You said firmly. “We can just forget it.”

Taeyong suddenly felt his chest tighten, forget it? He sat down at the table again, this time closer to you. You looked up at him, slightly confused.

“What if..” He began “What if I don’t want to forget it Y/N?” What was he saying?! Taeyong couldn’t stop the words from coming out.

Your brows furrowed, what the hell was he trying to say? “What?” You said, scanning his face for any sign of a joke.

“I said, what if I don’t want to forget?” Taeyong said again, grabbing your hand softly. You froze up, he definitely wasn’t making a joke.

“Taeyong…we can’t. Jaehyun is-”

“Please can I kiss you?” Taeyong cut you off, “Please? I don’t care what Jaehyun will say, I told you that night I’m sick of pretending. Just once, one time please I won’t do anything you don’t want.” The words spilled out, and Taeyong immediately felt guilty. But he couldn’t help himself, he gripped your hand tighter.

“I…What? No!” You said, but you couldn’t pull your hand away. Really, you didn’t want to. But you cared for Jaehyun, this was his best friend.

Taeyong sighed, and dropped your hand. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I should’ve just dropped it, I just…” He trailed off.

You being stupid, couldn’t stop yourself from asking. “You just what?” Suddenly you felt like you had deja vu, this was becoming so reminiscent of that stupid phone call.

Taeyong looked at you, his face stern. Here goes nothing, he thought to himself. “I think I just love you, Y/N.”

You didn’t know what else to say. You could only stare at him.

“Y/N?” Taeyong said after a long time. You weighed out your options in your mind, not sure which direction to go after hearing him basically confess his love for you. What are you supposed to say?

Fuck it, you think.

“Taeyong kiss me.” You say, grabbing his hand again. Taeyong looks at you confused for a moment, before gripping your hand tightly and pulling you close to him.

And you’re kissing him. He’s kissing you. This is so fucked up. You’re kissing you’re boyfriends best friend, and you really like it. This is bad.

But also so good.

Taeyong pulls away from you face and leans down to kiss your neck softly. “Please let me taste you.” He says in your ear, making you gasp.

“Not here.” You reply, you feel your conscience scream at you to say no, but no feeling compares to that of Taeyong on your neck. “Your room.” You tell him.

Taeyong grins and scoops you up making you yelp, before carrying you to his room.

Taeyong’s room was dark, cozy pretty similar to Jaehyun’s you thought as he carried you in.

Jaehyun.. You feel your chest ache a little. You feel guilty, but being with Taeyong right now feels..almost perfect.

Your pulled out of your thoughts as Taeyong sits on his bed with you in his lap.

“Can I take this off?” He murmurs against your ear, gripping the hem of your dress. You nod, to which he replies by nearly tearing your dress off, leaving you in your underwear. You gasp, and Taeyong smiles at you. “Sorry I got a little carried away.” Before you can respond, he lays you down and stands up to remove his own shirt.

“Are you sure you’re still okay with this?” Taeyong asks you again, grabbing your ankles, hesitating.

“Yes..Don’t worry.” You reply, sitting up on your elbows to grab his hands and pull him in for another kiss.

He whimpers into your kiss, feverishly grabbing at the straps of your bra. “Please, let me take this off of you. And tell me if you’re ever uncomfortable please.”

You nod again, gasping as he practically scratches to get your bra off. Immediately he starts kissing down your bare chest, making you giggle. Immediately he takes one of your nipples in his mouth and nibbles softly. “Oh god.” You moan, grabbing his hair which makes him whimper below.

Taeyong continues his minstrations on your chest, all the while making you wetter as every time you would pull on his hair he whimpered, before pulling away to look at you.

His big black eyes were blown out with lust and he looked at you with so much love you thought it was cute, which felt almost wrong in the moment.

“I fucking love your tits baby. So perfect…”He mumbles, pushing your shoulders to have you lay flat on you back before going to raise your legs up and lean down in between them.

“I bet your pussy’s better huh..” Taeyong says, hooking his fingers into your waistband and pulling them down your legs and throwing them into a corner of the room. You start to feel self conscious as he stares down at you, but the feelings quickly subsides when you feel his fingers rub between your folds, making you gasp.

“Aw you got so wet for me…Just for me right?” Taeyong asks, slowly rubbing your clit making you whine underneath him. You take note of the possesive tone in his voice and decide thats an issue to tackle later as you nod, unable to speak with how perfect his fingers feel on you.

Taeyong smiles at you before finally diving down to kitten lick your folds, holding your thighs close to his face to feel all of you around him. You whine and pull on his hair again, making him moan into your messy cunt.

Everything feels like too much yet not enough, Taeyong eats you messily, and his iron grip in your prevents you from doing anything but grip his hair tigheter. All the while he’s moaning underneath you, and you start to wonder who’s louder..

“Taeyong.. cum. M’gonna cum.” You whisper, pulling up on his hair to grab his attention. (Literally.) Taeyong responds by fully sucking on your clit, and you feel the knot in your stomach burn before you immediately feel yourself come undone with a shout.

Taeyong pulls away from you, and you open your eyes to see his face wet with your arousal, and a drunken look on his face.

“That was hot, your pussy’s so gorgeous honey.” Taeyong says, making you giggle. You sit up to pull him in for another kiss, climbing into his lap, which you notice is soaked.

“Did you cum?” You ask, to which Taeyong turns his face away from you, redder than a fire hydrant.

“You just..you make me crazy Y/N.” Taeyong mutters, kissing your face and going down to nibble your neck. “Any man who’s ever been lucky enough to taste you should be busting in his pants like me.”

You laugh at his comment, wrapping your arms around his naked torso to kiss his cheek. “Well that’s flattering, but you’re not quitting on me yet right?”

“As long as you ride me.” Taeyong replies, making you pause. Jaehyun never had you ride him before, always wanting to be in control of the bedroom. You knew it wasn’t that big of a deal, but with Taeyong..it felt like it was.

“Okay.” You reply, pushing his shoulders down as he quickly takes off his pants.

Taeyongs cock stands tall, harder than ever even though he just came a few minutes ago. You notice he’s a little thicker and longer than Jaehyun, which makes you clench as you hover over him. Taeyongs hands hold your hips as you slowly sink down, holding back a moan at the feeling of your hot cunt.

You realize too late you both forgot a condom, oh well. You never wore one with Jaehyun either, your birth control took care of that anyway. It’s not like he’d notice..right?

You’re pushed out of your thoughts by the feeling of Taeyong’s entire cock in you, and hearing him moan below you to move. He almost feels too perfect in you, hitting every spot that makes you crazy. You bounce on his cock with a vengeance.

“Fuck, you’re so perfect.” Taeyong murmurs under you, hands on you tightly. “Wish I could feel this all day, I’d do whatever you want baby all the time.”

“Yeah?” You find yourself asking, grinding down on him. Taeyong whimpers, hands moving up to pull your chest down closer to him, feeling his breath on your tits, making the angle his cock entering adjust perfectly. “Yeah whatever you want. Just wanna be your toy baby.” He rasps, hands going to grip your ass cheek making you moan.

“Fuck Taeyong…” You whisper. He’s too much. This is too much. Its so perfect its too much, you don’t even care if Jaehyun finds out or dumps you or calls you a cheating whore liar. All your morale flew out the window already anyway.

“Can I cum baby please?” Taeyong asks you, almost whining, his hips bucking up. “Let me fill up your pretty pussy baby please I’ll be so good for you.” Hes rambling now, making you clench even harder around him. You’ve never felt this in control before, sure with Jaehyun being more laid back and letting him take control was fun but this was a different level of hot.

But you had a mean streak in you too.

“What would Jaehyun say huh?” You ask, making Taeyong’s eyes snap open. “What if he sees your cum leaking out of me later?”

Taeyong shakes his head “Baby please he won’t I’ll clean you up with my tongue after just please.” His hips buck up harder, you yelp as the tip of his cock kisses your cervix.

“I don’t know yongie..” You mumble, feeling his hips stutter at your new nickname for him.

“Please honey, just this once for our only time.” He’s totally whining now, hands gripping at your hips, your ass, your tits, like he’s trying to ground himself. “Let me fill you up this once baby please.”

You may have a mean streak, but nothing can make you say no to Taeyongs whines, and the fact that you’re worried he’s gonna break a hip with how quickly he’s bucking into you. You finally nod, locking your legs around his torso and grinding down on him slowly.

Taeyong cums almost immediately with a moan, and you feel his cock spurt thick ropes in you, making you whine as you fully lay down on top of him after pulling yourself off, feeling his and yours fluids leak out of you.

“You needa come too.” Taeyong whispers, and before you can tell him you’re fine you feel him shove three fingers deep in your cunt, fingering you one of the quickest orgasms of your life.

He pulls out almost as fast as he entered, shoving his fingers into his mouth as his other hand strokes your hair.

The guilt can come later, you think. Listening to Taeyong’s heartbeat relaxes you. You just want to be present in the moment.

“This isn’t the last time” You say, looking up at Taeyong. “We can say that, but it’s not the last time.”

Taeyong only smiles cheekily at you before saying “Yeah. I know.”

[misc-obeyme]

The ordering food one but with the dateables

(person really shy to order food so they ask friends to order for them)

Okay, I went ahead and did them in order from most likely to least likely. Thank you for the request!

GN!MC asks the dateables to order their food for them

Warnings: None, just talking about food as before!

Diavolo

Of course he’s happy to order for you, MC! This is a breeze for him. He’s used to directing people. He’s good at chatting with the server, too. Asks them what their favorite thing on the menu is. Discusses the best choices with you before finally ordering for you both.

He’ll probably even order for you before you ask him to. Don’t worry, he’ll still consult with you about what you want, but just takes it upon himself to order everything.

Despite being perfectly happy to order for you, Diavolo most likely won’t remember all your preferences. He knows your favorite foods and the foods you hate, but anything beyond that you’ll have to tell him every time. Always apologizes for not remembering.

Won’t realize why you asked or that it means you trust him until someone else like Lucifer or Barbatos points it out. Gets a little self conscious about taking over like that, but reassure him it’s what you want and he’ll get blushy instead.

Simeon

Likes to take care of people and that includes you. He might be a little surprised when you first ask him, but agrees quickly and has no problem with it.

He absolutely knows all your food preferences but he’s gonna ask you exactly what you want anyway. He wants to be sure he gets you the right thing. If you're not sure what you want, he's ready to discuss it with you.

Might try to help you overcome your anxiety. Tell him about your feelings, MC. Talk to him about how you feel and he'll be able to help you work through it. At the very least he can reassure you. He’s here with you and you’ve got nothing to worry about.

Will check in with the brothers about whether or not they’re aware of this preference of yours. Won’t make a big deal out of it, but he’s protective of you too and wants you to be comfortable. So if the brothers seem oblivious, he'll tell Lucifer that he should order for you when you go out.

Solomon

MC, is this your way of asking him to cook for you next time? You don’t have to be so sneaky about it, you can just ask him outright! Quick, explain you’re just shy and you really do want him to just order for you that’s all!

He doesn’t mind doing it, but he is a little confused. Wouldn’t you rather order on your own? He will probably tell you about some spell or potion that’s meant to boost confidence. If he asks you to try it, you’ll be taking a risk if you accept.

Won’t push you about it, though. Also won’t order for you unless you ask. He probably just forgets you’d like him to do it, but he also won’t assume you want him to, either.

Doesn’t remember what you like and don’t like at all. Gets your preferences mixed up with other people’s. For instance, he’ll probably say something about how you don’t like pickles - until you remind him that’s Diavolo. Depending on how often you have to go over it, he will remember eventually.

Barbatos

Doesn't really have a problem with it, exactly… but Barbatos is far more likely to just make you whatever you want to eat himself. He would hope that you wouldn't be shy about telling him what you want to eat, right, MC? So really why go out at all?

He does realize that sometimes it's about the adventure of going out and less about the quality of the food you would obtain. In such instances, he's happy to take you wherever you want to go. However, he will absolutely only order for you if you ask him to.

Definitely knows exactly what kinds of foods you like. Has all of your preferences memorized. He could easily pick something out for you, but he won't. He's going to wait until you tell him what you would like. He might make suggestions based on how well he knows what you like, but in the end it's your choice.

He's a busy demon. He knows he won't always be around to help you with this. He'll certainly inform one of the brothers, but he also wants you to feel comfortable enough to order for yourself. What if you're completely alone? He's worried about you, so he will gently guide you through working up the confidence to order on your own.

masterlist | part 1 with the brothers | Thank you for reading!

[selfportrait27]

Ween fans of Tumblr. Come over to ween.wiki and help us build a new knowledge base for future fans.

I didn't start the wiki, I just got pissed off a couple of months ago and posted this on r/ween. To my surprise, people actually listened. We now have a few regular contributors, but it's time to start reaching out to the rest of the Ween web, and I'm starting here on Tumblr for a reason.

The fuck-you spirit of Ween and punk rock seems to have actually survived on this platform. Despite Tumblr's best efforts, this has mercifully not become a Nice Normal Place for Nice Normal People. There's a beautifully unhinged quality to all Ween fans that still circulates in the air supply here, that when you see it on reddit for example, you know that it's being allowed to happen.

Anyway, check out my original post on Reddit, or you can read the text below. Then saunter back to the Ween Wiki house and take a look around. If you see anything you think you can help with, go for it. You can find my user page here.

Full text of my post from r/ween:

If you didn't know, there is a Ween wiki just sitting there waiting for us to fill it in.

I know it isn’t very well maintained or reliable. That’s because we’re not using it. It’s a community database, not someone’s personal website. It’s supposed to be maintained by the fan base, that’s the point of a knowledge commons.

Let’s say, for example, if 50 of us make one quick, low-effort change to the wiki in the next month or so. That would already be a big improvement. If it’s the first and last time for you, you will have made a contribution.

Here are some little things you can do anonymously, without an account or a username: 

~Add lyrics to a song.~ 

Change lyrics that someone else added. (It updates instantly, this isn’t genius.com.)

Add a page that you think should be there - you can leave it blank for others to fill in if you don’t want to do it.

Delete something if you think it’s wrong -  you don’t need to have something to replace it with in order to do this. Removing something counts as a contribution. If it turns out to be right after all, it can be put back.

Ditto if you see a citation that you don’t trust - you can just remove the source. Now it’s a ‘citation needed’ situation, which gives others an opportunity to do something.

Correct a minor spelling error, it can literally be that small.

Don’t share private material without permission, but other than that, it can be just about anything at this point, as long as it keeps the ~recent changes page~ ~active.~ Even if you’re new and you don’t know much about Ween, you almost certainly know something that isn’t there yet. Remember you can edit anonymously, so nobody can give you shit if you get it wrong. What they can do is change it.

A few notes:

Why do we need this, when we can just ask someone more reliable? Because it’s too much pressure to expect any person to be reliable all of the time*.* It might sound counter-intuitive, but having a community database that “just anyone” can edit actually creates more accountability, because we’re all responsible for its content, rather than expecting a few people to do all the work and get everything right. This is an opportunity to make a contribution to the legacy of Ween and their fan base, one that’s at least a little better than the stew of info and misinfo that’s out there now. It’s also a chance to help ensure that the good work people are doing on projects like Ween Archived doesn’t just end up getting mixed in with all the bullshit~.~

You don’t need to know what you’re doing. I’m a tech-moron - seriously, my 80-year-old father probably knows how to use Media Wiki better than I do. Even I figured out how to make a few basic edits. We’re going for minimal effort here, so even if you think it won’t make a difference, it will only have cost you a minute of your life.  Do a sloppy, half-assed job. Make a tiny improvement to someone else’s sloppy, half-assed job. Do it now or later - a community database is a long term, ongoing project and there’s no deadline for anything.

But people will just use it to troll? Yeah, they might. They can already do that now. If that’s what you want to use it for, you’re going to anyway. Here’s a couple of things worth remembering:

Nobody needs to put in a ton of work only to risk having it spoiled. There’s enough of us that your individual contribution can be as tiny as you want, and it still counts.

Again, anybody can delete information, so dealing with troll entries doesn’t just fall to one person or a few people. It’s unlikely that we’re gonna have a troll problem that’s too big for the rest of us to handle.

Sorry to be cheesy, but if we’re too scared to do anything, then my friends, the trolls have already won.

One last thing. You can do this and still hate everybody and complain as much as you want, nobody can take that away from you. You can even feel better about complaining, knowing that at least you did something. And if you want to tell me to shut up, who the fuck do I think I am etc, then you’ll still have plenty of time to do that too.

Come on, people. Two children who couldn’t play their guitars yet started a band without a drummer, and we can’t build a better community wiki than this, with all the tools in front of us? Of course we fucking can.

[the-french-belphegor]

Making my way (makinmawaayy) through my @critter-genfic-events bingo card, and this one's filling the "fights" slot! Or rather, "post-fight", which they told me works as well. Also it's set way before the start of the stream, when they're all more acquaintances and travelling companions than the friends and family we see later. They're already buds, though, for the most part.

Posting it on AO3 ASAP Now on AO3! Hope Tumblr doesn't hide the post from the tags! 🤞

(oh yeah, side note: I do know that concentration-based spells get dropped when you either don’t roll high enough to maintain it or when you take too much damage – like both invisibility spells do in DnD. But I liked the idea of being so concussed you don’t remember how to drop a spell :3)

—

Scrambled

Scanlan is pretty sure someone’s calling his name in the distance with a certain amount of worry. It’s okay, he thinks but doesn’t say. He’s gonna get back up any time now. He’s fine.

(Scanlan is more than fine, Scanlan is a godsdamn snack, thank you very much.)

In fact, he might even go as far as to let the word drag, let some notes slide a little: fiiiine. Four ‘i’s should about do it.

(Heh, four ‘i’s. Four eyes. That’s Percy. Where’s Percy?)

So, to recap, Scanlan is fine as hell, and he’s okay because he’s always okay, even with a headache so bad he’s pretty sure his brain is leaking out of his ears. Won’t check, though, that might be gross and his stomach isn’t doing too well either at the moment. Barfing while lying on your back? Yeah, no, bad idea. Of all the ways to die, drowning in his own puke is probably around number… sixty-eight.

Sixty-nine would be, of course, a particularly ill-advised tumble with someone with an ungodly number of teeth and a taste for blood, preferably that of a gnome with more curiosity than sense. As always with sex stuff with consenting adults, though, Scanlan isn’t willing to completely dismiss the idea.

Might be fun to try someday, who knows.

When he’s less tired.

Why’s everything swimming?

Actually asking out loud is out of the question, since for some reason his voice can’t even make it out of his throat, let alone his mouth –

(oh fuck no, if I can’t sing I’m toast, if I can’t play I’m dead, if I can’t talk we’re done)

– so at the price of an effort so bad he almost upchucks everything since the invention of breakfast Scanlan pivots his head juuuust a little to the left.

And sees nothing.

Well, no, not exactly. He sees yellowing grass, some dirt, a bit of sky. But nothing where his shoulder should be, or the rest of him.

…Oh yeah. He made himself invisible a while back. Somewhere between Tiberius’ Fireball, Vex’s arrows, and Percy’s pepperbox and its more-or-less controlled explosions. (Or maybe Percy went before him. Right before the world got very loud, very fast, and then very quiet. Somehow there’s a connection between this and that.) Dropping the invisibility looks like a really good idea, if only Scanlan could remember how. As things stand, he can barely remember to breathe. Oh, and also that the warm stickiness soaking up the back of his head and seeping into his collar is Not A Good Thing – not that there’s a lot he can do about that.

Things are rather quiet now. He must’ve missed the end of the fight.

Seriously, though, where’s Percy? Scanlan can’t hear the usual blasts and somewhere in the shattered mess that is his brain there’s a nagging inkling that it’s a bad sign. Or maybe there’s something else poking at the edges of his mind, he doesn’t know. He’s not exactly up to turning stuff over in his head at the moment. Turning his head was hard enough.

He’s just gonna… chill there for a while. Rest his eyes a little bit.

Which is why he doesn’t spot Vex running over until she drops to a crouch next to him and squashes his hand with her knee for five seconds.

Vex’ahlia is sharp eyes, sharp aim, sharp words, sharp everything. Her knees are no exception. Ow.

“Shit shit shit, fucking shitballs,” Scanlan hears her mutter under her breath as her hands find his head with uncanny precision considering she can’t see him. Her ‘t’s are beautifully defined, her vowels clear and precise. It’s a pity she sings so rarely; most performers would kill to have her diction.

“PIKE!” she yells over her shoulder. “OVER HERE!”

Pike, echoes the part of Scanlan’s mind that’s still functional. It would have been a small, pitiful yearning sound if he’d been able to speak. Thank goodness the word doesn’t pass his lips as is. It’s frankly a little scary just how the thought of her – the first in a while that doesn’t feel fractured in some way – quietens the part of him that’s not watching the proceedings with a detached interest. Pike is fun to flirt with and try to charm; she’s beautiful and radiant and strong, anyone with an appreciation for the female form can see that, so it’s not so surprising that Scanlan always feels drawn to her like a sunflower to sunshine. It’s so easy to let himself get starry-eyed over her, even if she’s so completely out of his league it bypasses sad and goes straight into funny. Scanlan probably is in love with her, a little bit, like he’s a little bit in love with everyone. Just… sometimes… sometimes when he calls her the love of his life he’s not sure he’s joking.

The nausea and the waves of blinding pain relent a little.

Pike?

No, Scanlan corrects himself, Vex, who when he manages to focus for more than a second finds his gaze and holds it. Unerringly.

Which must mean… the hour is up. The spell must be wearing off.

Huh.

“There you are,” says Vex, residual magic still shimmering in her fingers after her low-level Cure Wounds. She must really be tapped out.

There is blood in her hair and one of her feathers is bent at the stem, but the most telling cue that the fight went wrong is the brittle quality of her smile. She’s good at putting up a front, almost as good as Scanlan; insight isn’t Scanlan’s forte, let alone when his head feels like it’s just been cracked open like an egg, but sometimes seeing Vex’ahlia slice her way through life like a knife, just as sharp and just as shiny, is like staring into a warped mirror.

She’s good.

He’s better.

(Usually.)

“How’d you find me?” he croaks.

Vex draws back the hand she was using to prop herself with a couple of inches from his head. Her palm is coated with red.

“Head wounds, darling. They tend to bleed rather a lot.” She cocks her head to the side. “How did you even end up all the way here in the first place?”

Scanlan’s memories still feel like a scattered jigsaw, but at least now the pieces are right side up. What he puts together isn’t very glorious. Getting punted into a rock by a giant who only heard you and who was supposed to go down easily isn’t anything to brag about. At least he can always quip about it.

“Well,” he wheezes out with a grin that might work better without the blood in his teeth, “I got got.”

Then he remembers why the giant whirled round blindly and whacked him with his club. He’d been out of any useful magic, trying to sneak up on it with a fucking sword, of all things, because the big dumb fucknut had somehow gotten hold of—

“Shit, Percy – where’s Percy?”

Vex’s own smile gets wry and just a little shaky at the corner.

“He got got,” she says. There’s a story there, but at least Vex doesn’t look like it ended in tragedy. Instinctively Scanlan relaxes into his headache. “Don’t worry, though. Pike reached him in time and Grog and Keyleth got the giant.”

Oh. Good. Percival Freakystein von Mussels Colossal de Rolo III is one scary motherfucker with his pepperbox and his glasses and his devastating one-liners, but he’s still squishy as hell. Plus, well, he’s so young – Scanlan is fairly sure he’s twice, maybe three times older. The kid must be, what, mid-twenties tops? That’s way too young to die, especially having experienced so little of what the world has to offer. Scanlan would bet anything the stuck-up nerd has never taken anyone to bed, for the gods’ sake.

They’re all assholes, in the SHITs, sort of (except Pike, of course, and probably Keyleth too) but Scanlan likes them. If the universe suddenly decides that an asshole has to get killed today, he’d rather it be him rather than one of the others.

Still, nobody needs to know that.

“Worry, me? Please, I never worry.”

“I know you don’t, darling. I’m just updating you on what you missed while you were having a kip.”

Vex’s tone is even, her words light, and yet when Scanlan meets her gaze it’s like crossing blades. Somehow it also feels like grasping hands in reassurance and honestly it unnerves him a little. He prefers to know where they stand, and usually he does: he’ll downplay close calls and tell lewd jokes to alleviate the tension, while she’ll be sarcastic and magnificent and not call him out on his lies on the occasion she sees through them. But sometimes she reminds him that both twins are like blades, swift and sharp in more than one way, and in some of them she’s the sharpest. Gods, she’s terrifying.

He’s saved from having to retort something by the metallic rustle of ring mail over heavy cotton as Pike rushes up to him. Perspiration left traces in the dirt smudged across her face and her dark hair is mussed, whole locks coming out of her braided bun. She smells like sweat and leather and a little like wild strawberries, and she’s the most beautiful thing Scanlan’s ever seen.

Pike doesn’t lose a second with platitudes; she just gives him a very professional once-over, almost clinical in its efficiency, then cups his face with her hands with a look of intense concentration, eyes closed. The healing spell she pours into him feels so potent it’s practically an out-of-body experience. For a couple of seconds all Scanlan feels is warmth, clean and bright and fierce, and when he opens eyes he doesn’t remember closing his ears are still ringing.

Although that might be the blood loss.

Which would also neatly explain how weak he still is, especially when Pike’s face goes soft.

“You okay?” she asks quietly.

There are so many answers he could give her.

I am now – with a wink and a nod.

I want to have your babies – with a theatrical gesture that will make her laugh.

I am if you are – with his heart in a smile. (NOPE.)

“I’m always okay,” Scanlan finally says with a grin, hoping for an echo.

Which he gets, so points to him for being awesome. Pike Trickfoot should always have a reason to smile.

Vex snorts and somehow still manages to make it sound classy as hell.

“Sure. Which is why the only reason I found you at all was the random pool of blood on the ground thirty feet from where we thought you were. You’re lucky I’m a good tracker.”

“Fair, fair,” he says with a careful nod. “Although that could’ve been from some forest critter that met a grisly end.”

“Please, this much blood, and this fresh? How dumb do you think I am?”

Scanlan sits up on his elbows and counts off on his fingers. “One, that’s gross – two, ‘dumb’ is the last of things that you are and you know it all too well – three, thank you for saving my life – four, that’s still so gross, oh my gods. What’d you do, sniff out my lifeblood?!”

“It was me or Trinket,” says Vex, looking way more smug than she has any right to. “It just so happens I beat him at the game of ‘spot the invisible gnome’. You know, before he dies on us.”

“Oh no. What a loss that would be. Such a young, useful bear, too.”

“How scrambled did your brains get? I meant you, you dick.”

Her peeved expression eases just as quickly as the smugness hardened into a glare, and she smiles at Pike before straightening up and striding off toward the others. Her perfect hips swing subtly as she walks, in an unassuming way Scanlan knows from experience requires a lot of work. He’d find her so hot if she wasn’t so scary.

(Well, he does find her extremely hot, if only because she could break him with either a gesture or a word, but despite popular belief Scanlan Shorthalt isn’t that reckless. Even he can weigh the pros and cons occasionally before deciding that diving in headfirst isn’t a good idea.)

There’s a snort on his right, and his whole world is Pike again.

“I really don’t get your little war on Trinket,” she says, but there’s a twinkle in her eyes.

“When he starts landing actual hits on whatever we’re fighting or even just holding his own more than two minutes, I might reconsider. Right now he’s just a glorified pack mule.”

“He’s plenty useful. He gives the best massages, for one thing. And he’s a good boy.”

I can be a good boy, Scanlan almost retorts, but refrains at the last minute. The lie is too big to work, even as a joke, and he doesn’t like the sliver of truth behind it, like the glint of a blade. So he settles for a fake disgruntled huff and a grin.

Nothing falls off as he picks himself up with Pike’s help, so that’s good news. He just has to suppress a shiver at the congealed blood, now gone cold, that makes the top of his shirt stick to his back. His ponytail is a mess, a clump of matted hair half glued to his neck. Ugh, he hates having to wash blood out of his hair.

His usual armour is back on, though. Pike doesn’t seem to notice the shiver; the look of slight worry she gives him has a general fight-almost-gone-very-bad flavour of ‘are you okay’ to it.

“I am glad you didn’t get scrambled,” she says in a rare mix of bluntness and thoughtfulness that’s uniquely Pike. “You know, for good. I mean, you looked pretty bad there for a moment.”

“Aw, Pikey-pants,” Scanlan says in a singsong voice, “don’t tell me you were worried.”

Pike gives a half shrug, which he feels because she’s thrown one of his arms over her shoulders and is supporting some of his weight.

“Oh well, you know,” she says in an offhand voice, a little high-pitched, “a little? You’re never silent this long, and then Grog and I couldn’t find you, and then Keyleth said she heard the giant hit something with his club, and then—”

“Well, you don’t need to worry about me, okay? Never worry about me.” He smiles, big and toothy, to counter the frown she gets sometimes when he says things like that. “I mean, there’s really no need. I’m awesome! I’m Burt Reynolds!”

This at least gets a smile with the hint of a smirk. Still sweet, though, because Pike could make (and has made) even the bluntest blow feel sweet.

“Esquire.”

Scanlan nods carefully, mock-serious. “Right, right, ‘Esquire’.”

“Shouldn’t forget that bit.”

“No, I should not.”

She smiles at him, sharp but warm, and there it is again – the sudden urge to say something stupid, make a joke, deflect, like raised hackles, because what if she gets the true measure of him? (‘And doesn’t like what she sees’ goes without saying. There’s a reason Scanlan spent the last couple of decades carefully building himself up.)

Being a charismatic bastard means sometimes you can afford to coast on charm alone. He grins and changes the subject, as swift and dextrous as a knife in Vax’s hand, and that’s it. Matters closed.

Honestly, he’d have to be a lot more scrambled than that for it not to work.

“No, Grog, there’s already a troll dick in the bag of holding, we’re not keeping a giant dick as well!”

…Plus there’s always the next distraction. That works, too.

—

(until it doesn’t, but he doesn’t know that yet!)

I started writing this on a whim and then couldn’t decide who I wanted to find Scanlan between Vex, Vax and Pike – so I decided to sort it out with a d20, set the DC at 20 (“hard”, because he’s invisible) and roll a perception check for each member of VM using their proficiencies at level 10 (the earliest character sheets of theirs Critrolestats have). Both Pike and Grog rolled a natural 1 :’( Keyleth and Percy got a 9, and even with +10 and +7 respectively for perception they failed the check; Vax got 26 (rolled a 16 with +10 perception) and then Vex got the same number but by rolling a nat 20! Plus her passive perception is 22, so that makes sense. And she was top of my list anyway, so ^^

(I spun the whump wheel a couple of times, thinking I’d get a good handful of prompts for some short snippets (like <1k words) and then happened on “concussion” and. Well. Someone clearly had a lot of thoughts about that one...)

[kade-is-here]

You know that AU I have? The robotic one? Well, here’s the first piece of writing for it! Enjoy!

TW: Cursing, violence(not onscreen), and death(not graphic). If I missed a warning, please let me know! Also, if you find any spelling or grammar errors, lemme know about that, too! :]

“Shit, shit, shit, shit, SHIT, SHIT, SHIT, SHIIIIIIT-!” Those were the words running through one unfortunate robot’s head as it sprinted through the densely wooded area that it just so happened to find itself in, the lights gleaming on its joints and “face” cutting through the fog in a way that made it’s job much harder.

Its current target had figured out its plan way too quickly. There were no gaps! No seams, no breaks, and, dare it say, not even a STITCH visible in its wonderful, perfect idea! So, what went wrong?

The bot ran through the plan again.

“Okay, 1768-B. It was easy: kill that dude’s classmate by beating the shit out of him, then call to ask for help on the group project they were doing. Ask if you could come over. Go over there. Then, take the dude’s place. Easy! So, what went wrong?

Y’know, it might have something to do with the fact that you forgot the name of the guy you were impersonating. And then didn’t think of a good explanation fast enough. But, hey, it’s-“

BAM!

Most robots generally don’t get distracted by their AI/inner monologue long enough to crash into a tree. 1768-B wasn’t like most robots. 1768-A, its AI, wasn’t like most AI, either, but that’s beside the point.

Once B peeled itself off the bark of the tree, A reminded it to turn up the sound sensors.

The footsteps and panicked breathing of the dude had disappeared.

“SHIT!”

B nodded in agreement. It was only a temporary setback; humans never go far. Usually. Didn’t one of their siblings have to travel to another country to catch their prey?

Eh, that wasn’t important right now. B started cautiously and quietly moving through the forest, using the good ol’ fashioned built-in GPS to try to find its way back into the city.

“Up and at ‘em. He could be anywhere, but chances are, he’s probably heading back home. So we just have to stay there and wait, and- shhh.”

B stopped moving at A’s shushing. The two sat there for a moment, the bot patiently waiting for what the AI had heard.

“Sounds like rocks rolling down a hill, doesn’t it? Does the GPS say something about a cliff?” B nodded. “Okay. Well… it can’t hurt to check it out.” “…

Well, I guess we won’t have to worry about that anymore.” B gave a huff of air through its vents, its version of a sigh.

They crouched down by the edge of the cliff, staring down at the motionless form of the dude below them.

The bot turned up the sensitivity of the audio sensors again, allowing the AI to listen.

No breathing. No heartbeat. No sound at all, except for the occasional wayward pebble falling.

“Does this count as a kill?” B shrugged. Its battery was depleted, and it didn’t get a chance to charge all day since it was too busy stalking the dude’s classmate. It dissolved its form a bit so it could slide down the cliff wall more easily. They came to a rest by the corpse of the dude, and it pawed at the air around the corpse.

Human souls are anchored to the body immediately after death for a bit, at least until they can move on. It seems like the dude hadn’t yet. 1768-B quickly “grasped” the soul, the familiar squirmy feeling of that empty cold-yet-warm air filling its mouth, and then its battery.

“Done?”

B nodded. A could be kind of demanding at times, but they were stuck together. Quite literally. AIs couldn’t survive outside of bots, and bots couldn’t survive without the AIs. But that’s unrelated.

1768 stood up and turned on the GPS’ navigation system, wandering in the vague direction of the attic that they called “home.” What have they learned?

Absolutely nothing. Well, except for maybe to remember names a bit more.

[clockworkspider]

A late night flight

A while after Arthur had returned to Granville Castle, he received a visit from Lord Figaro.

Gen, fluff, relationship study, 1.5k words.

[AO3]

—

The spirits of Central welcomed Arthur’s presence without any resistance. Yet, the air at Granville Castle still felt heavy on his limbs. He missed flying, or running through the hall, allowing his steps to bounce with magic, conjuring whenever he pleased. 

Arthur supposed he could still do any of these things, but the wary startlement he received when he as much as pick up a fallen fork with magic gave him pause. 

And so, he learned to stand still, and let the servants bend down, and he walked the halls with one feet always touching the ground. 

It was late in the evening when a knock upon his window interrupted Arthur's studies. Like an apparition, Lord Figaro appeared on the balcony with his broom. 

“Good evening, Arthur. It’s been a while.” Lord Figaro spoke. 

Unable to believe his eyes, Arthur reached forward. When he felt Lord Figaro’s face, solid to the touch, he smiled in relief. 

“Lord Figaro!” He exclaimed, and greeted the elder wizard with a courteous but firm embrace. Figaro hugged him back warmly. 

“Arthur,” he greeted back. 

“What brought you here, Lord Figaro?” 

“I’m here to check on you, of course!” 

“Well, it’s a pleasure to see you, Lord Figaro. Please, come in!” 

“Actually, why don’t you come for a flight with me?” Figaro asked, “You probably miss being in the air, right?” 

“I’d love that!” For a moment, Arthur’s eyes lit up, before hesitance entered them. “Ah… but I should probably get permission for it. I don’t want to cause a panic if they can’t find me…” 

“Ah, you don’t have to worry about that,” Figaro said, “I’ve cast a spell around us and this room. People won’t notice anything unusual or remember to check on you for the next little while.” Putting a finger to his lip, Figaro winked conspiratorially, “It’ll be our little secret adventure! I’ll have to teach you the trick sometimes, but this kind of magic is quite advanced, so you’ll probably have to hone your basics before trying it.” 

“I see… Well, I’d love to learn about it regardless.” The young prince’s eyes lit up with the permission for mischief. 

“Alright, you got your broom? Then let’s go!” 

—

“You know, I’ve always love the central weather,” Figaro commented. 

The night breeze was cool and gentle against their faces. It felt nice to be flying. And yet, Arthur missed the crisp, frigid air of the North. The clear cloudless sky full of stars. The northern lights. 

He said so. 

“I thought you might say that,” Figaro said, “I have a present for you. I’ll show it to you once we get back.

“How have you been, Arthur?”  

“I’ve been well. There are a lot of studies I have to catch up on as a Prince, but I’ve been keeping up with  practicing my magic too. I’ve tried to learn a few things on my own from the grimoire Lord Oz had given to me.” 

“Oh? Show me!” 

“Pernoctant Nixzo.” Arthur made a throwing motion with his hand. An magical arrow flew from beside him and lodged itself into the center of a tree. “Ah, but I don’t have a target right now.” 

“Nicely done,” Figaro said, encouragingly. “And have you practiced casting a barrier?” Saying that, he summoned a few energy spheres and launched them at the prince. It was an old trick from the twins, magic dodgeball. Arthur was familiar with it. Tho they’ve always made sure to meter their strength properly when playing with the young prince. 

Arthur, for his part, gasped in delight at the surprise attack, and immediately threw up a shield. The energy spheres dissipated harmlessly upon contact. 

“Well done!” Figaro complimented. “More than learning new spells or honing our skills, the most important practice for us wizards is to protect our own heart. Because our heart is what we use to cast our magic.

“You have an extraordinary position, Arthur.” Figaro’s tone grew solemn. “The people here would demand everything from you. There are times for you to open your heart, and there are times where you must cast a barrier around it. Do you understand what I’m saying?” 

Arthur nodded as he digested the lesson, seeming to understand, but then said, “I’d like the people of this castle to open their hearts to me with time.” 

“So you feel you must open your heart to them first,” Figaro nodded. 

“How do you get people to open their hearts to you while protecting your own, Lord Figaro?” Arthur asked. 

“That… Well,” Figaro laughed sheepishly, “even I don’t know the answer to that question, Arthur.” 

There was a beat of contemplative silence. 

“Let’s head back,” Figaro suggested. 

—

Upon landing, Figaro took out a glass dome, within it, Arthur could see a view of the northern lights. 

“I thought you might be feeling homesick,” Figaro said.

Arthur held the dome within his hands, his young face softened with visible relief. “Thank you, Lord Figaro, you made this for me?” 

Figaro simply smiled. “Do you like it?” 

“Yes, very much.” Arthur’s smile was sweet, yet there’s a hint of loss there. Figaro could see the question unspoken, hanging between them, almost tangible. 

“Come to the Southern Country with me,” Figaro said, “it’s nothing like the North, I’m afraid. The weather’s really hot and humid, and you’ll probably have to learn a bit of physical labour, but the humans there are friendly towards wizards, so you can use magic whenever you please. I think you’ll like it there.

“I want you to meet Mitile, he’s a young wizard around your age, I think you’d get along.” 

Arthur blinked in surprise. “Lord Figaro… I…” For once, the young prince was at a loss for words. “I can’t just leave…” 

“Are you worried about your position? If you just say the words, I can speak to your father on your behalf. Your family has a long history with myself and the Twin Teachers, you know? Let Doctor Figaro handle the adult stuff.” 

Arthur furrowed his brows, caught in a trap he couldn’t quite understand. After composing his thoughts, he shook his head, “That’s not it, Lord Figaro.

“There are a lot of misconceptions about wizards in this country. As someone who is both a wizard and a prince, I’m in the unique position to change that. I don’t want to run from my duty… No… more like… I don’t want to give up on this opportunity to make a difference. From the bottom of my heart, I am happy for your invitation, and I have no doubt I’d love the country you’ve chosen as your home. But there are things I wish to do here.” 

Figaro studied him. Finally, he smiled warmly. “Well said. It seems like littler Arthur is all grown up since I’ve last seen you.” 

“There’s still a lot I have to learn,” Arthur demurred, “there seem to be a lot of rumours and misconceptions about Lord Oz as well… The humans fear our power, and since he is the most powerful, they fear him more than anyone else. I believe… If I can get the people here to open their heart to me, then I can show them wizards like me are not so scary. And then, one day, I’ll be able to invite you to bring Mitile here with pride. That’s my dream.” 

For a moment, Lord Figaro looked as if he was swallowing bitter medicine, but the expression disappeared as soon as it appeared. Finally, he said, “Then that’s my dream as well.” 

“I’m sorry,” Arthur said.

“Whatever for?” Figaro asked. 

“I seem to have hurt you.” 

“No… You just…” Figaro said, “you just reminded me of someone else for a moment.” Gently, he patted Arthur on the head. 

The gesture felt soothing, like a balm, and Arthur couldn’t help but be reminded of Lord Oz’s hand in his hair. For a moment, he wanted so desperately to ask Lord Figaro to take him to Lord Oz, just for a quick visit. He didn’t trust himself to open his mouth. So he simply hugged Lord Figaro’s present to himself tighter, hoping to get a glimpse of the one he wished to see within the northern lights. 

After the long pause that followed, Lord Figaro broke the silence. “Oz made this charm for you.” 

Arthur looked up in surprise. 

“I told him to come give this to you himself, but he wouldn’t. I got crossed with him, and told him I’d tell you it was from me, and he told me to do as I liked.

“Oz isn’t very good with his words, you see. He didn’t know how to keep you without destroying the place which you could also belong.” 

Arthur stared at the northern lights in his hands with renewed wonder. When he looked back up at Figaro again, the tears that shone in his eyes finally spilt out. 

“Thank you, Lord Figaro,” Arthur said, “for delivering this to me.” 

Under the light of the great calamity, the young prince’s face shone brighter than the stars. “I miss him,” he said, his young voice wobbly. Figaro could only stare in wonder, as Arthur wept openly. The child who was forced to grow up way too soon had yet to lose all his tenderness. 

Gently, Figaro wrapped his arms around Arthur, and held him on Oz’s behalf. 

[she-karev]

Cousin Jen

Age Rating: 12+

Chapters: Three of Six

Fandom: Grey’s Anatomy

Summary: Andrew talks to Matt while Amber and Jen tour the hospital and run into Alex who has an interesting reunion with Jen. The GIF above shows her reaction.

Words: 3366

Andrew is in the neuro lab and decides to check Matt’s vitals as he sits in a chair next to a table filled with journals and textbooks.

Matt looks at the table in interest and asks Andrew as he wraps a BP cuff around his arm, “You’re working with Shepherd for the research contest?”

“Yeah, she asked me to assist and I said yes right off the bat.”

“You know when I first heard about this contest, I wondered why I didn’t get into surgery and I remembered it’s not my fancy.” Matt says enviously as Andrew pumps the cuff.

“Personality thing?” Andrew asks.

“Nah I grew up watching House MD and I wanted to be that growing up.” Andrew grins at that reference, “I mean except for the painful limp, the opioid addiction and being an antisocial ass. What about you? Did you watch any medical dramas that got you hooked?”

“Not really.” Andrew records the BP and takes the cuff off, “I come from a family of surgeons so it was kind of in my blood. We made fun of those shows and pointed out the inaccuracies. BP is normal.”

“I’m a doctor so I know that syncope causes low blood pressure, I don’t know it that’s good or not.” Matt says worried.

“Don’t worry we’re gonna get answers soon.” Andrew puts the cuff away, “How long have you had these spells?”

“Um about 12 days, it first started at work. I was going over scut when I suddenly passed out on the table. I was up for 15 hours I just thought it was exhaustion so I passed it of as nothing until the restaurant.”

“And did you have any headaches or was anything out of the ordinary before the spells?”

“Nope nothing. I’m a medical mystery, this is not how I wanted to relive an episode of House.” Andrew grins at that, “You know I’ve known Amber for a long time now and I can tell she likes you; I’m talking like you on a whole other level. She might not show it I mean I know she can be…”

Andrew nods knowing the answer, “Yeah she is, but she’s also fun and funny and beautiful.”

“Oh good you see that.” Matt grins, “It’s just that I feel like I have to be her cheerleader with the guys she dates because they all think she’s this cold and closed off bitch and they treat her like it. I mean it’s probably why she hasn’t had a substantial relationship in the time I’ve known her. That and they all look at Jen and hit on her right in front of Amber…and me.”

Andrew’s eyes widen at that, “It sounds like she could pick them better back then.”

Matt shrugs, “It’s more like she’s a magnet for assholes. It has me and Jen convinced her parents put a curse on her at birth. Sorry I’m probably revealing too much you just seem like a good guy and Amber deserves that after everything. And you not running after you found out makes me worry, she’s not gonna take it well if you stomp on her heart further into this relationship.”

Andrew nods, “Don’t worry about it I get it and she’s lucky she had you two when she was in New York. Look I get that you think I’m gonna run but I’m not and certainly not because of Amber’s past. I had a crappy childhood too; I had a parent who went through a mental health crisis too. I didn’t have it near as bad as she did, I didn’t shove pills down my mom’s throat or went into foster care because it was so bad. But I get how it can drag you down and I’m not gonna do that to her. If it doesn’t work out it won’t be because of her past or how I treat her, I promise.”

Matt looks at him impressed, “Maybe don’t say all of that to Jen because the hot doctor schtick with the sensitive soul might make her leave me for you.”

Andrew chuckles at that, “Well from what I’ve seen that’s not gonna be an issue for you two. I mean she said yes to marrying you and traveled across the country so you could get a diagnosis. Plus, Amber approves of you two which speaks volumes.” Matt nods in agreement and DeLuca gets a page. He pulls out his phone, “Shepherd wants us to meet her in the peds floor, let’s go.” He and Matt leave the lab to meet Amelia.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Jen and I walk down the hall to the board room passing Jo as she and the interns do rounds. I’m sure from a regular hospital staff member’s point of view we look strange together. They see me in my scrubs and her in her designer clothes and well-done ponytail and think why are they together? It’s what so many of my med school classmates think and I can understand it but I also know that despite our differences Jen was there for me when no one else was.

Every heartbreak or research paper stress she was always there to help and talk to me and take me away for a while. It helps that both of our fathers were deadbeat junkies. The only difference is her mom is saner than mine and took her away from him when she could. I think that’s why she’s more stable than me and why she’s the joy to my gloom, she had some stability unlike me. I don’t resent her for it though if anything she’s the only one who has given me stability when I needed it. Jen looks around at the pastel walls and toys on the desks and I realize we went the wrong way.

“Damn it.” I say frustrated, “Wrong way, we’re on the peds floor this place is a maze. I’ll get us out don’t worry.”

“Hey so I didn’t want to tell you this in front of the guys because I figured you’d go to your dark place.” I look at her curious as we continue walking down the hall, “Your mom keeps leaving me messages I think like four this week.”

I groan at that unfortunate tidbit, for some reason my mom has been trying to talk to me for the past year and of course I declined. The only time my mother called me was to ask for money or when she goes off her meds and rants to me about what a colossal disappointment I am. It aggravates me she’s using Jen to get to me, “Yeah well I hope you told her I’m closing down the library every night.”

“I told her I haven’t seen you.” Jen grins knowing how much I detest my mother, “For all I know you could be a crack ho by now.”

I chuckle darkly imagining my mom’s face hearing that, “That is perfect thank you. Speaking of my side of our messy family I should tell you something before you-”

“Alex!” I freeze on the spot and look up to find Alex with Amelia talking to Andrew and Matt. He looks in our direction after Jen called his name.

“Oh no.” I know what she’s planning and I need to stop it, “Okay quick word before you do what you want to-”

Jen ignores me and walks to Alex with a fake chuckle and smile acting like it’s a fond reunion, “Alex Karev! It’s me Cousin Jen!”

Alex looks shocked and remembers her, “Jen hey it’s been a long-” Alex gets interrupted with a slap to the face by Jen that causes me to look down in embarrassment as I approach them. Andrew and Matt look at her in shock, no doubt thinking I would sooner slap someone in public than her. Amelia looks amused at Alex who rubs his jaw clearly in pain. I mouth sorry to Alex as I stand next to Jen.

Jen frowns at him dusting her hands, “That’s for being a shit and leaving my sweet cousin with my shit father.”

I clear my throat loudly, “Read the floor honey peds floor means floor for kids, so ixnay on the cursing and the slapping.”

Alex sighs and looks more sad than angry, “I take it Amber said nothing but good things about me.”

“To be fair.” I start, “I hated your guts, you know that and so does she and I didn’t tell her we made up and the slap was unnecessary.”

Jen looks at me surprised and with a little bit of guilt, “You two made up? You don’t hate him anymore?”

I shake my head, “No more than I normally should.”

“Oh.” Jen looks taken back for a moment but turns to Alex with a warm grin, “Well in that case come here.” She pulls Alex for a hug who looks surprised by the sudden change in tone but hugs her back and they pull apart.

“Hi I’m Dr. Shepherd I’m gonna be your fiancé’s doctor.” Amelia greets her and shakes her hand, “DeLuca told me what’s happening with Matt, now I have to do a neuro consult but I’m gonna have DeLuca run basic tests and do a brain scan to see if we find anything.” She looks to me, “Are you fine keeping her company while this happens?”

I nod, “Yeah I was gonna find Avery to tell him I’m gonna help out with Matt…and would one of you tell me where to boardroom is? Because I’m lost.”

Andrew grins and Matt quips, “She sucks at directions, one time she took a train to Queens and ended up in Canada.”

“Don’t you have tests to do?” I snap and the men walk away to do so. I look at Alex, “So the boardroom?”

Alex grins, “First floor room 1204 it’s across the bridge.” I thank him and we both walk away from them.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

We finally find ourselves on the right floor and I exhale in relief, “There he is finally let’s go.”

Jen grabs my arm stopping me with an ogling look directed at Avery, “Wait a minute that’s the guy you’re working for?”

“Yes.”

Jen chuckles impressed, “Jesus how many hot doctors work here?”

“Oh, stop it.” I tell her annoyed but she keeps grinning, “Aren’t you engaged?”

“Yeah.” Jen confirms nonchalant, “But that doesn’t mean I’m dead.”

“I will be if you keep drooling over my boss so can you-”

“Karev.” I turn to Jackson who stops in front of us with his mother, “Thank god I found you please tell me you have the basis for the proposal.”

“Actually, that’s what I was coming to talk to you about.” Jackson notices Jen next to me and looks at me curious over who she is, “Sorry Dr. Jackson and Catherine Avery this is my cousin Jen Evans.” They shake hands.

“Hi, it’s very nice to meet, Amber told me a lot about you.”

Jackson looks at me flattered, “Really? You talk about me?”

I narrow my eyes annoyed, “Okay take a testosterone blocker, I’m here to tell you I can’t work on the research project with you today.”

“What? Why?”

“Well, I’m working with Dr. Shepherd and-”

Jackson chuckles lightly, “Let me guess Shepherd got your boyfriend to convince you to join the dark side and spill all of my plans with her did she?”

I glare at him, “I need to figure out why my beloved cousin’s fiancé is experiencing syncope and make sure he’s healthy in time for their wedding.” I inform him coldly causing him to be silent for a moment before responding.

“I see well that’s a pretty good reason to take a break.”

Catherine chips in, “Well with her out of the way does this mean you’ll have time to help me with my project?”

Jackson closes his eyes and looks at Jen apologetically, “I am sorry for my mother she has no filter.” He turns to his mom, “Mom, Dr. Valez has a great pitch. She does, all right? And you guys should do it. You should enter the contest and change a bunch of lives. But I already got my own thing going on, and, frankly, it's a little more cutting-edge than what essentially amounts to an elective cosmetic procedure.”

Catherine doesn’t back down though, “Oh, come on. Look, my birthday is coming up. You could think of this vagina as your gift to me.” I widen my eyes at that comment as well as Jen and Jackson who looks more horrified than shocked.

“Now I'm gonna go smash my head in with a hammer and see if I can forget that you said that.”

I grab his arm, “How about I help and page Qadri so she can take my place?” He nods and leads us away from his mother who yells out as we walk away.

“Jackson Avery, you are such a disappointment! I thought you were woke!” Jackson groans at that and looks at Jen with apologetic eyes as we walk with him in the middle.

“Sorry about that my mother can be a handful sometimes and her mouth speaks before her brain does.”

Jen chuckles, “Oh don’t apologize drama helps distract me from my drama. So, what was all that about? If you don’t mind me asking.”

“Um my mother has an idea for the surgical innovation contest and thought I should ditch mine to help hers.”

I snap my focus on him suddenly interested, “What? What could she possibly have that’s more interesting than freaking spray on skin?”

“Spray on skin?” Jen asks.

I explain, “We’re doing this contest to see who comes up with an idea to revolutionize surgical medicine and Avery’s is replacing painful skin grafts with aerosolized stem cells.”

Jen groans, “It’s like I’m living with you again, words for the basic hairdresser please.”

Jackson steps in and grins as he explains, “Okay so you know how burn victims need to have their burned skin taken out and replaced with healthy donor tissue?” Jen nods, “Well it’s effective but it’s also painful and the graft doesn’t always take not to mention there’s scarring and discoloration.”

“That doesn’t sound like a good method.”

“It isn’t.” Jackson confirms, “Which is why I want to find a way to use stem cells in aerosolized form like what you use to wet your client’s hair. Only instead of water I’m using a skin sample from the patient that’s broken down into liquid and spray it on the burned tissue. Then the enzymes will regenerate and provide viable coverage, it’ll be like the skin is formed and it heals over the burn wound.”

Jen looks at him impressed, “You know how to do that?”

“Not yet.” I chip in, “That’s why we’re doing research so we can get money for the supplies we need and test subject availability. Then we can move forward so this can revolutionize skin grafting entirely and both of our names will be legend status.”

Jackson raises an eyebrow at me, “And of course saving a bunch of lives and making it so burn victims don’t suffer more than they should.”

“That too.” I suddenly remember something, “Oh hey how did it go?”

Jackson looks at me confused, “How did what go?”

“You left the bar with hoop earrings; I’m surprised I would think denim skirt would win you over she had very toned legs. How was it? Did you get a little lady luck on your side?”

Jen chuckles, “Oh my god your wingmanning again? Is this what your so busy with you can’t go to a salon?”

I defend myself, “I have a gift and Avery is desperate and lonely he needs help.”

“You know I can hear you right?” Jackson quips, “And I just sent hoop earrings in a cab nothing happened.”

I look at him shocked and a little offended, “What? You didn’t sleep with her?” He shakes his head, “Was there something wrong with her?”

Jackson rubs the back of his neck, “You know it just didn’t feel right that’s all.”

I scoff but shake it off, “Okay fine well maybe Priya will change your mind.”

“Is Priya denim skirt?”

“No, she’s blue blazer.” I scroll through my notes, “She was really nice we got to talking and she’s a lawyer, a human rights lawyer.”

Jen gushes, “Oh human rights that’s nice it’s generous.”

“See even she sees it.” I find the info, “I have her number here I will text it to you.”

Jackson stops us outside the lab, “Look Karev I appreciate what you’re doing but I’ll think on it while you page Qadri so you can save your cousins wedding, is that good for you?”

I look at him surprised but put my phone away, “Okay fine but just to let you know in the year 2050 global warming will either drown us or burn us all to death.” Jen raises an eyebrow at me, “And by then you’ll have to depend on your daughter to change your diapers.”

Jackson raises an eyebrow at me, “Exactly how old do you think I am?” I open my mouth but he speaks before I can, “No never mind I can already tell I won’t like the answer. I will text you for Kiya’s number.”

“Priya.” I correct.

“I’ll consider her too.” Jackson grins and I glare at him even as he enters the lab leaving us in the hall.

I turn to Jen who grins at me, “He needs me.”

“I’ve seen him he doesn’t need your help to get women.” Jen and I walk down the hall, “Something is holding him back or maybe someone.”

I snort, “And you know this how?”

“You’re good at biology I’m good at loveology.” I chuckle at her word, “Hey come on five years of cutting hair and endless gossip and silly arguments provides you with a certain skill set you can’t get in a hospital. Trust me when I say your boy is in conflict either that or he’s in the closet.” I chuckle at that and lead her down the hall so we can go to the neuro lab where the boys and Shepherd are waiting for us.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Andrew and I go over the labs and brain scans up on the board while the happy couple are behind us waiting anxiously. We were able to get Matt’s labs and brain scans back fairly quick while Alex and Amelia were checking on a patient. I look at the brain scans closely to see if Shepherd missed anything but to my chagrin, she was right that Matt’s brain was healthy and showed no signs of abnormality.

“There’s not contusions or inflammation or anything out of the ordinary.” I turn to Matt and Jen, “It’s not a tumor as I’d previously suspected.”

Andrew looks up from the tablet where he’s reading Matt’s labs, “Labs are clear your cholesterol is a little high for someone your age but otherwise you’re the picture of health.”

Jen sighs, “That’s good right?” Andrew and I look at each other worried, “Why doesn’t it feel good?”

Andrew puts the tablet down, “Well we ruled out neuro so we have to check if this is cardio related.”

Matt nods, “Today it’s brain, tomorrow is hearts I wonder what the next day is, Japanese?” Jen grins slightly and turns to us worried.

“What’s happening to him? Should we be worried?”

I shake me head, “I’m gonna talk to our chief of cardio Dr. Pierce.” I inform them, “I’m gonna try to schedule you for an EKG an MRI and an exercise stress test, would you be up for it?”

Matt nods, “Yeah sure run what you need to just as long as I get out of here soon.” I nod and turn to walk when Jen calls to me.

“You fix Matt, do you hear me?” I stop to face her worried expression as she grips Matt’s shoulders like she’s afraid he’ll disappear, “It’s like I said, he’s my one and only.” I nod full heartedly and turn to walk away more determined to help them than ever.

[missnight0wl]

Hey, Marta! I have no hp related to say except that whatever's going on hogwarts legacy seems to be just romancing sad white boys and nothing on plot or whatever, disappointing. (Which is fine on fics and romance centered stories, but so far I heard no one complementing or even commenting on the story.)

I think a lot of these media/game developers think they can simply rely on the brand Harry Potter and just spew any half assed stories with the cover of 'ohh spells and references'. I don't even have nostalgia for anything and it makes me sad to see it watered down to the technicalities of the world and not the story that lies in its core.

But capitalism I guess.

Anyway, I took so long to listen to Eat Your Young and oh my, what a bop! Why does Hozier use such a sexy voice to sing the horrors??? I truly hadn't heard him in interview in a while so when I heard Through Me, I got whiplash. While Scottish still my darling accent, Normal People gave me an appreciation for Irish accent.

Well, those were just some random meanderings. I hope you're doing well 💖 *virtual hug*

Hello, Bee! It’s really good to hear from you! ☺

I’m gonna be honest, I’m actively not following information on Hogwarts Legacy, so I can’t really comment on that. I have a vague idea about the plot thanks to my friend who’s more interested in it, but she also said that the story is rather bleak overall. So... there’s that, I guess. But as I said, I don’t know enough to give my opinion.

That being said, I do want to comment on your thought about “abusing” the HP brand because… yeah, that’s true. Well, sort of. Because, for example, I still believe that HPHM wasn’t just about that at the very beginning. I do think that Matt London and his team created this story with some level of passion. Were they also hoping for easy money? Yeah, probably. But it seems that they cared about something more, too. Sadly, at this point, HPHM became what you’re describing: a half assed story with the cover of 'ohh spells and references'. And I hate to say it, but I also think that the fans are partially responsible for that.

I mean, I remember seeing people being like: “Oh I can’t wait when HPMA/HL comes out, so I can leave this shitty game (HPHM)”. And I was always like… You don’t HAVE TO play this game if you don’t enjoy it. I feel like this mentality was actually quite common at some point, especially on Reddit, at least when I was still checking it. But personally, I just don’t get it. You might still like HP without interacting with every single title in the franchise.

But that also brings me to your second thought: capitalism. Because honestly, it’s not just the problem of the HP brand. Let’s take The Sims, for example. People are complaining for years that TS4 is lacking even now when we have dozens of DLCs. There are many new bugs with each pack and many old bugs that needs to be fixed. But it doesn’t matter for EA because they know that people will still buy the next new pack. Why? Because of the brand. And because The Sims has no real competition, at least yet.

Another example: Apple. Personally, I don’t use Apple products so I won’t comment on their quality. But I remember when people talked about the new iPhone without a headphone jack. Again, I don’t know if it actually influenced the quality of a phone in a meaningful way, but it’s rather hard to not see it as a mechanism forcing people to buy wireless headphones. And again, Apple knows they can do that because people will still want to have the iPhone.

So, yeah. Capitalism.

And what a lovely segue to Eat Your Young it is!

Seriously, I love this song! I can’t help it but sway to it every time I hear it. Though I totally feel you – it is absolutely morbid! But it’s that clash that makes it so strong. By the way, my favourite part has to be:

Get some

Pull up the ladder when the flood comes

Throw enough rope until the legs have swung

Seven new ways that you can eat your young

Back in 2019, Hozier was performing on his tour one of his unreleased songs, But The Wages (which many suspects will be on the new full album). And in one video of this song, he said: “If you’re not making the right people uncomfortable you might be wasting your time as a musician”. I feel it’s basically gonna be a subtitle of Unreal Unearth.

And finally: YES, HIS ACCENT! 😄 I’d say I’m quite familiar with it as I listened to some interviews fairly recently (there was Blood Upon Snow not so long ago and now the new EP), but yes! The Irish accent is very lovely! :3

And I write Normal People down as another title to look into because I did hear about it, but I never paid more attention to it.

Anyway, I hope you’re doing well, too! 💖

[quelsentiment]

3, 15, 17, 18 for the weird writing asks!!

Thanks Fee!

3. What is your writing ritual and why is it cursed?

Okay, so I used to write on Google Docs for the longest time and then a few months I told myself that maybe it wasn't the best privacy-wise. So I've switched to using Open Office, which I think helps me focus better because having it on a separate window away from my web browser reduces the temptation to stop mid-sentence to check another tab, you know? But at the same time, this feels VERY cursed because my version doesn't have any kind of spelling check, plus my WIPs are now saved on my internal drive, and since I don't make backups of them that often, I live in fear or my laptop dying on me and making me lose weeks of progress

Oh also, there's basically no word count lololol

Am I gonna do anything about any of this though? No, we're raw-dogging life over here 😎

15. Do you write in the margins of your books? Dog-ear your pages? Read in the bath? Why or why not? Do you judge people who do these things? Can we still be friends?

I already answered this earlier but the short answer is I currently don't, but I don't judge people who do (unless it's a library book or something)

17. Talk to me about the minutiae of your current WIP. Tell me about the lore, the history, the detail, the things that won’t make it in the text.

I guess I'll talk about my fic for the Zouis Fest (although it might not even be part of it in the end, because I keep writing for the Dream Team fandom instead rip)

Anyway, I'm still not sure exactly what I'm doing with it. Like the main idea is that it's a Zayn-POV, canon-compliant(ish), present day fic where they run into each other in Hong Kong and are kinda forced to acknowledge what happened all those years ago, and figure out how to move forward. So like, lots of angst and feelings of betrayal and conflict and serious conversations because that's basically all I know how to (and all I want to) write lol

At the moment I'm not sure whether to keep it focused on their friendship or introduce some kind of romance aspect to it (toying with the idea that they had some kind FWB situation going while they were in the band). But since it's canon-compliant I'd feel kinda iffy doing that. I've never actually written canon-compliant before, and I have to admit that it scares me a bit, also because I've been extremely removed from the 1d fandom lately

Anyway one thing I'm sure about is that I want a scene to be inspired by the following verse from Blur's My Terracotta Heart:

And when we fly tomorrow over the Java seas And my younger maps will be there with me 'Cause they remind me of swimming out too far one day Then the coral was gone, but I didn't care anyway

Something about Zayn going too far to swim and Louis watching him almost drown but not realizing what's happening, as a metaphor for what went wrong between them

Yeah, that's pretty much all I can share at the moment. I should really get back to it

18. Choose a passage from your writing. Tell me about the backstory of this moment. How you came up with it, how it changed from start to end.

Zayn Malik is, without a doubt, the most beautiful person Louis has ever had the privilege to lay his eyes on. To the point that if he were to explain aesthetic attraction to someone, he’d probably say something like: “The feeling I get when I look at that gorgeous guy in my English 586 class.”

That's the opening line from Situations Like These, my aro/ace Zouis fic from the first Zouis fest.

It's one of those stories that really started out with just a scene rather than an idea/concept, which I think is the case for a lot of my fics actually. I mean, I did have a prompt for this fic, which was something like "they're both ace but don't tell the other for fear of driving him away", so it was pretty vague in terms of setting and everything else, really.

I remember coming up with that opening scene and the bits of dialogues at my grandparents' place right before getting on the road back home with my parents, and since I'd rather die than write in front of them, I just had to make sure to commit everything to my memory by repeating it all in my head throughout the day, until we were finally home and I could write it down. But that's something I do a lot, I think, just come up with stuff (typically dialogue) at inconvenient times and praying that I remember it by the time I can write it down 😬 And then of course when you actually settle in front of your computer, you feel like all your inspiration is gone

Anyway, I think this might be one of my favourite opening scenes I've written, I feel like it's pretty fun while setting the tone and dynamics for the whole fic

writing asks

[thejediassassingirl]

Rewriting this post bc Tumblr apparently didn’t like it and decided to delete it. Thanks, Tumblr!

Hey you. Yeah, you. Are you a massive fuckin’ nerd? Do you love Destiny and Dungeons and Dragons? Do you wanna play as your guardian in D&D? I've worked out a build for that! DISCLAIMER: This won't work for every campaign and every setting, and you should talk to your DM about it beforehand to make sure it’s compatible with the game you’re in. Once you’ve done that, you can start building your character! You're going to be at least level three in this character, because you're going to be multiclassing. Your base class, the class that you're going to want for your first level, is cleric. I chose this for the "religious" aspect of having been granted your powers by the Traveler as well as for the fact that clerics are known for healing, and in the game we do get the mechanic that allows us to revive others. You'll want to be a light domain cleric. Your second level is where you choose your in-game class. Are you a hunter? Put a level into rogue. Are you a warlock? Sorcerer. Titan? Fighter. For your third level, you're going to want to pick ranger, specifically the horizon walker subclass. The horizon walker subclass won't kick in until you've got three levels in Ranger, but you'll want to have the basis for it anyway. For your race, you can obviously be a human, or if you want to be an exo, you could choose warforged. For an Awoken character, I think an Elf would work pretty well!

For your background, you can honestly choose whatever you want. I picked folk hero because I feel like that fit with the status that guardians have, but if you want to get skills and proficiencies that your guardian might have had in their first life, feel free to choose another background that gives you the skills you want! You could probably even talk to your DM and have them pick a background for you but not tell you what it is, to kind of play into the "not remembering your past life” aspect of Destiny. So now you have your base character, but you're going to want gear. Again, talk to your DM about what works with their campaign, but once you have your guidelines, go nuts! I tend to use hand cannons, bows, and swords most often in game, so I gave my guardian character a pepperbox pistol, a shortbow, a shortsword, but I also gave her a glaive bc glaives are awesome. Now for spells! As a cleric, you will already have light, burning hands, and faerie fire. In addition to these, I chose guidance, sacred flame, and spare the dying as my cantrips, plus cure wounds, guiding bolt, and healing word as my first level spells "But Jedi, how do ghosts work?" you ask, and folks, I hear you. I hear your questions constantly. They come to me in my dreams like a prophet receiving visions from an angry god. Again, I will disclaim that you should check with your DM before implementing this, but here's how I'm thinking about handling the ghosts. Remember how I said I had chosen healing word and cure wounds as my first level spells? Well, flavor wise, those wouldn't be cast by my character, they would be cast by my ghost. They still would use a spell slot, but in describing them, they’d come from your ghost. If you reach zero hit points and you fail your death saves, that would mean that your ghost was destroyed and you're permadead. Time to roll a new character. It’s not perfect, but I spent a lot of time thinking about this, so let me know what you think and let me know if you use this to play your guardian in a D&D campaign!

[miraclesnail]

I love your series about the Stoll borthers! You said you had Jason and the Victor twins written? If you don't mind sharing, can we see some of it? 👀👉👈

Aww thank you!! I’m glad you like it! 🥰 as for sharing I don’t mind but they're severely under-finished and not spell-checked yet 😅 I'll just put in Harley and Sherman and Valentina in too since they're also semi-written. I swear I do have canon characters in the work 😭 It's just I get writer's block extremely easily and don't know how to progress the fic in a fashion that makes sense so they just sit there.

Jason

Barely a memory. Most likely a dream.

Jason doesn’t really remember much of his childhood like all children do much less how he survives the journey to Camp Jupiter as a stumbling two year old. He must have. No way Lupa showed him any semblance of leniency. All those in the legion (or a select and loud few?) says he must have survived purely on luck. Some thinks he cheated, had the favor of the gods or something, even though Lupa won’t hesitate to end the trial right then and there if there are signs he’s being aided. Lupa had trained her demigods in all they needed to survive. Any outside help means you’re weak and unfit. They all know this. Some thinks his powers just hard carry him. And they might be right. But when he was two years old? Did his powers manifested that young?

He doesn’t remember. He might never remember. And the one person who can tell him, Lupa, probably won’t ever do so. 

But there’s vague memories if he thinks hard enough, if he tries long enough to remember. 

A mother with hordes and hordes of broken promises.

A sister who does too much, tries so hard, who loves him more than anyone. 

But he does remember a person. 

A man? A woman? A kid barely older than himself? He can’t picture them all too well. 

But he does remember wings. Soft and a vibrant green, fluttering rapidly like a hummingbird on a pair of beach sandals.

He remembers a gentle laugh and a hand ruffling his hair as he tries to grab a fistful of those feathers.

He remembers a smile, lopsided and warm. 

A little mischievous too. And sad. And strained. 

And he remembers their words, their voice carefully and calculatingly airy. 

“Can’t believe you’re going through this so young. Wish I could help but Lupa will get mad if I interfere too much. Oh. Don’t tattle on me to her. She’ll rip my head off for this. But I can’t help it.

Only the strong survive, you know? That’s what Lupa says all~ the time even though there’s no such thing as a strong two year old. The wolf is kinda out of the times. You’ll see. You’ll learn. She’ll teach you all you need to learn to make it to Camp Jupiter if she deems you worthy. 

You're special, aren’t you? I can tell. There’s Jove’s blood running through your veins and you know what Jupiter reigns over? What the heck am I saying? You have absolutely no idea what’s going on. I can’t help with the whole lightning powers you’ll inevitably get. But I can help with this.” 

He vaguely remembers being picked up.

And he vaguely remembers a beautiful horizon, a 

Then he’s being dropped.

He’s falling.

Someone catch him, green wings beating fast on a hat 

They laugh. A joyous thing. 

Or maybe he’s remembering it all wrong and that man/woman/being was actually Peter Pan and he’s confusing reality with a movie he saw as an impressionable child when he lived in foster care 

January 2010

When he’s not doing his best to help Leo build Argo II (which is very limited, he doesn’t know all too much about building ships, not does he know much about flying ships and much much less about a ship made of a sentient dragon flying… dragon ships) or hanging out with Piper or participating in Camp Half Blood’s admittedly very fun and very cool activities, Jason likes to spend his time roving through Jupiter’s Cabin treasure trove of books. 

They’re all of his father and his many deeds of course. How he birthed Athena from a headache after swallowing his lover. How he birthed Dionysus from his calf and had the child hidden from his wife Hera. How he slew Trophius with Nike by his side after all the Olympians ran in fear. 

And how he gave Hermes his iconic winged sandals and helmet that makes the Messenger God so heralded for his speed. 

Jason stares at the pictures for a moment, finger tracing the printed image of the vase. His other hand tingles with the slightest electricity as a gust of air whoosh through his cabin. 

An image pops in his head. 

A curious pondering, an aching wonder, almost a yearning, but the problem soon presents itself.

Jason doesn’t really know any children of Mercury or Hermes closely to ask this personal question he has. Is it personal? It could be if it pertains to their body parts. 

Any children of Mercury are out of the question right now. They’re too far away and by the time he does make it to Camp Jupiter, there will be more pressing matters. 

The only children of Hermes he knows are Travis and Connor. They’re fellow head counselors of their respective cabins. Granted, he doesn’t do the typical duties of herding any siblings, but they do share responsibilities such as attending war meetings. 

They wouldn’t mind if he asked, right? 

They’re pretty nice people from what he remembers. Granted he hasn’t talked much with them other than an occasional hello. And they are more mischievous than the finance-focused children of Mercury back at his Camp. But underneath their jovial exteriors, they’re seasoned warriors. 

Joke around as much as they like, Jason can spot a fighter when he sees one. 

And a fighter usually means they have a lot of arsenal in their sleeves whether it be godly abilities or magical items. 

It’s settled. 

He’s asking. 

At free time, he spots Travis and Connor Stoll lounging  to 

Add:

Jason catches them trying to leave the camp to visit cerberus

Monsters attack

A flying monster take connor into the air. Jason goes after it. 

drops connor after jason attacked 

Jason zooms towards connor intending to catch him and goes pass him when he grows a pair of wings.

Went to olympus

Drains a lot of energy to have wings

Jason end up havig to pay for a cart and roll them back to camp. 

Okay but can you guys shadow travle? Because of How Mercury can go to the underworld whever he pleases, do you guys have any of underworldly abilities?

They share a glance and Jason knows they’re not telling the truth. 

Uh… no. 

Then how about teleportation? I know children of Ceres can use trees to teleport from place to place. 

And what will we use? Stop lights? Street signs? 

I was thinking more like the little pile of rocks hikers used to signal the right path, but street signs work too.

Holly and Laurel- Better Than You

Holly is weak. She cries too much. At the slightest pain. At the slightest inconvenience. 

In this dog eat dog world, the weak get pushed around. 

That’s why she’s better than her sister. 

That’s why she’ll carry the mantle of the oldest. She’s a better protector than Holly will ever be. 

“Stop crying already,” she snaps even though the pain is unbearable. She’s about to cry too but there’s still danger around. The monster is spitting at them, globs of it flying above their heads and landing inches from them. They sizzle and corrode the asphalt. They’re still in trouble. And crying now will do them no good.

“Because it hurts, you asshole!” Holly hisses as she curls her arm close to her body and sobs. And it should hurt. Her arm is hanging by threads, the claw nearly amputating her twin sister’s arm clean right off. And her own arm isn’t any better. Laurel hugs her own wounded arm close to her body and blinks back the tears, slows down her breathing, fights back her own sobs. 

“We need to get out of here,” Laurel says shakily, daring to look over the garbage truck they’re hiding behind. She whips back before the spit can hit her. 

But Holly just continues to sob and sob and sob and says it hurts, it hurts, it hurts over and over and over. 

“Get it together, Holly,” Laurel snarls but Holly isn’t listening to her, still clutching her arm and fuck. Fuck.

The monster is slithering closer and closer. 

It’s blocking their only exit from this narrow alleyway. There’s no manhole they can dive into. No fire ladder they can climb up to. 

There’s no escape.

They have to fight.

But she can’t fight alone. 

And it’s not because she’ll lose. Not because she’ll die. And if she dies, then who will protect Holly? How will Holly get out of this? 

Holly is still crying and Laurel says the one that will snap her out of it, grabbing her sister by the shoulder and forcibly making her look at her. Laurel forces a smug smile on her face. 

“Bet my arm is in worse shape than yours, you crybaby.”

And the tears stop just like that. 

Holly’s eyes snap to hers and they’re a thunderstorm, enraged and tumultuous. 

Laurel is weak. She freezes in danger. She stares at it coming. And does nothing but fall on her butt.

In a dog eat dog world, the weak get left behind. 

That’s why she’s better than her sister. 

She’ll take the mantle of the oldest. She’s a better protector than Laurel will ever be. 

“Move, Laurel!” Holly screams as the bull comes charging towards them, she herself already safe and sound midway up the fire escape. 

But her sister is transfixed by the mechanical monster racing towards her, metal horns the size of a car, body the size of a truck. 

“MOVE!” she shrieks. 

But Laurel isn’t moving. The monster is going to flatten her twin and Holly won’t be able to have someone to race with, someone to squabble with, someone to watch her back when it’s her turn to sleep, someone who’ll keep her going, who gives her a reason to wake up in the morning, and to not give up on life. 

Unbelievable, you’re unbelievable! 

But there’s no time to say that. 

Without thinking, she jumps from the fire escape and in front of the monster’s path with nothing but the rainstick they stole a while back. She’s not thinking when she starts running towards the monster nor was she thinking when she uses the rainstick as a pole to vault herself up and out of the monster’s way. She lands perfectly on the metal monster’s back and without hesitation, uses the rainstick to steer the bull away from her sister and into a wall. 

She backflips away before the moment of impact. 

Just in time too because the wall comes crashing and crumbling down on top of the bull. She would have been caught in the rubble too. 

But she made it out alive.

She made it out okay.

What the fuck. She never did anything as crazy as that. 

“Bet you can’t do that!” she half-laughs, half-cries, not believing it herself either as she falls down on her butt beside her twin — still motionless, still frozen in space. 

And just like that, Laurel snaps out of it, jaw clenching shut with an audible crack, her twin whirring to face her with a dangerous gleam in her eye.

Sherman — School

September 2007

Sherman has many regrets in life.

Not asking that girl out two years ago when his life was still whole and normal. 

Not taking piano classes more seriously because all his cousins know the piano and his mom refuses to have the one child in the family who knows zero instruments. 

Not apologizing to the girl he socked in the face for making fun of his mediocre English when he was 7 years old and still learning the horrible language that is English. 

Not listening to his mom about limiting his phone usage because well… all his friends have phones and the fact they can text each other? The fact it's instantaneous and so, so, so fast? Plus the buttons have these little haptics and noises that make his brain happy? How can he not?

Yeah. 

He has many regrets in life.

His biggest was not saving his mom from being killed by the hellhounds.

Probably second in line is agreeing to becoming a ‘yearrounder’ or whatever they call it to the long list of regrets he has. He should have just gone back to bunkering down in his house like he’d been doing before Norman the Satyr found him and convinced him to come to camp. 

You’ll have shelter. They’ll train you. There’s food too. Plus friends. It’ll be a blast! Norman had told him. 

See, he just figured he can relax in Camp Half Blood. Have some time to cool down and figure out his life. Maybe live life on easy mode with free food for a while after the hell he just went through. But no. 

No.

He has to go through the hell that is homeschooling. 

“It’s not that bad,” Malcolm tells him. 

“It’s tailored specifically to each of us,” Connor adds.

“It’s basically always having a one-on-one tutor. Beats having to go to a nearby public school,” Travis says. “Plus this way, we can all spend more time together after classes!”

“The nymphs and dryads and naiads are nice teachers. And Chiron makes his lessons super, super interesting!” Miranda coos with a little spin that’s adorable. 

In order to still prepare them for life in the mortal world, yearrounders still take classes like how they would if they had a home to go back to. New yearrounders take an assessment test to see where they are in the basics then a personal plan is created for them with extra coursework tacked on if they’re behind on subjects students their age should know. 

Well, even without taking the test, he knows he’s behind. By 6 months, at least. 

He hasn’t exactly been studying during those times he stayed inside and did nothing but hid. 

“It’s going to be fine,” Silena comforts him.

“None of us will judge if you score poorly. Sometimes shit happens and school gets put on the backburner,” Beckendorf consoles.

“I know a hymn to calm your nerves if you have test anxiety,” Will offers. 

They’re all too nice. If they were a bit meaner — like Michael — then maybe he knows what to say. Maybe he wouldn’t just nod silently and wait gloomily for Chiron to call him into the conference room. 

Turns out it wasn’t that bad.

He was overthinking the whole thing. 

The test was remarkably easy and simple. Sure, he failed the greek mythology portion. And his English is mediocre. But the core? Mathematics, Science? He aced those. 

He has to start from the bottom up when it comes to the greek myth. So he’ll be taking extra classes after everybody has already finished up. So rather than getting out of ‘school’ at 2 pm like the other yearrounders, he’ll be done at 4 pm. Not too bad. Two hours of free time to do whatever he likes before dinner. 

And the classes aren’t particularly too hard. 

What is hard is the utter and extreme boredom of what to do after classes.

“I can show you the forge,” Beckendorf says. 

“We can practice riding the pegasi,” Silena says. 

“Hymns,” Will says.

“Do all of the above and bother everybody,” Travis and Connor 

“Congratulations! Miranda, daughter of Demeter.”

“Demeter? Isn’t that the goddess that starved the world when her daughter Persephone was kidnapped by Hades? Kind of genocidal and an overreaction, isn’t it?”

“I guess so. But you know, back then, women didn't have a voice. So Demeter fought back in a way that’ll be heard. And to have a mother who’ll grieve so much, who loves you so much, that you being taken from her and her wishes to bring you back were ignored, will make the whole world to suffer… I don’t think it’s an overreaction. Besides, to have a parent who will care for you, who will fight for you. That’s all I want, to be honest.” 

There’s something wrong with his new friends. 

All of them. Every single one here has issues. 

Though he’s not better so whose he to judge? 

Sherman - Words

His mom dying before his eyes taught him all he needed to know. 

Life is fragile. People die. Big deal. It is a big deal. It’s just a part of their miserly life that the people they love die before their eyes. Who cares? I care. Grow up. Get over it. You have to get over it.

But Michael apparently hasn’t gone through the same life lesson. (lucky) 

Lee is dead. Died pushing Michael aside to take the hit for him. 

Yes. It sucks. Yes. It hurts. 

But Michael has dozens of friends he has to cover for. He has his half-siblings he needs to protect. He has his own life he has to persevere. 

So why is Michael just sitting there frozen? Why isn’t Michael getting up and moving? Why isn’t Michael aware that the giant that just killed Lee is about to kill him too?

Why is he the only one seeing this? (The giant flicks his club, blood and brain matter splatter the ground.) 

Someone better save Michael because Sherman is busy with his own battle with this dracanae. (Michael is still unmoving, eyes on Lee’s unmoving body.)

Percy? Annabeth? Chiron? Busy. They’re all busy. Well, Michael can save himself. He’s unbeatable with his bow. And look, he has a bow. So he’ll be fine. (“Get up,” Sherman whispers, chest heaving as he stabs the dracanae in the stomach with his celestial sword and shifts his attention to his friend.) 

But Michael’s eyes are wide and broken and lost. His hand is nowhere near his bow, stranded a few feet away. He’s not moving towards it. Michael still isn’t unaware of the giant about to send him to his grave. 

No one is going to save Michael and Michael isn’t going to save himself. 

Fuck. Fuck it. Fine. Fine.

“Get up!” Sherman yells as he hurls himself in between the club and Michael with a bronze shield.

The club slams down and Sherman howls as his knees buckle and he crumbles to his shin. It’s a miracle how his arms haven't folded yet. There’s a bright red light shining above him, bathing him in the color of roses. He hears someone quickly congratulating him on being claimed. But that’s neither here nor there. It’s taking all he has to not pass out. 

“Get up, Michael!” Sherman screams again as the club swings down again. His arm screams too in protest at this abuse. The giant is sneering at him, looking down at him as he pauses his assault. Thank god for this giant idiot and his equally sized giant ego. The sick bastard probably wants him to suffer. He’ll take it though. He’ll take whatever seconds he’s given to make Michael come to his senses. 

“I…I … But Lee…” Michael stammers and a hand reaches pathetically for his half-brother. His dead and now worthless half-brother. 

“Doesn’t matter! Get it together,” Sherman screeches, and he cries as the third slam breaks his arm and shoulder. He grits his teeth, bites back the tears, supports the shield with his good arm, and yells over his better shoulder, “Fight! Fight until this battle is done. Fight until they’re all dead. You can cry when it’s all over.” 

But Michael still isn’t moving and Sherman wants to cry at the burning stabbing in his arms and the futility of this. He should get away from here. Michael is a lost cause. No point in both of them dying. But his feet remain planted. He can’t make himself move. Maybe he’s just as weak as Michael. And isn’t that a kicker? Looks like he learned nothing then. He’s still that same scared, disobedient child. Sherman makes himself grin, makes himself stare at the giant in the eye. He’s been told he looks scary and unhinged. God, he hopes monsters think so too and hesitate killing him. He needs more time to figure something out to save Michael. 

But before the club can slam down on him again, a blur of orange blitzes pass him and behind the giant, a sword slicing the giant’s heel and back of knee. In a loud heap, the giant collapses. But before his savior can deal the final blow with a stab into the neck, the giant roars and swings his club in a wide arc. 

Connor Stoll curses and jumps back to stand beside him.

There’s blood on Connor, on his arm and on his armor and his knees. The guy is panting for once too as he whips around to Michael, blue eyes with a wild, panicky tinge, red-rimmed and puffy too. Like he had just been crying.

“What happened?!” Connor asks, voice cracking, “What the fuck are you two doing just sitting and playing chicken with the—”

Connor’s words stutter to a stop. He must have seen Lee’s body. Sherman wouldn’t know. He’s too busy not trying to pass out from the pain of his broken arm. Arms? Maybe a leg too? He doesn’t know. But a giant really does pack one heck of a hit. 

Connor laughs after a moment. It sounds like a cry too, broken and cracking at the seams. Unlike Michael, Connor clearly has no problem with moving as his hand tightens on his sword. 

“You have got to be kidding me,” Connor says and yeah. Connor is definitely crying. “You have got to be kidding me!”

The giant is back on his feet, ankles healed, but Connor is a blur again, slicing swallow cuts on the Giant, probably enough to only sting but not end it. After this, if they make it out alive, he needs to commit to getting Travis and Connor onto a body-building plan. 

Connor comes back to his side, panting heavier. 

“I can’t beat him myself,” Connor admits, “Can you finish it if I make an opening?”

But Connor must have finally taken in his condition and the son of Hermes looks back at Michael. “Mike, if I make an opening, can you shoot an arrow into the giant’s eye?”

Michael is still transfixed on Lee’s body. 

“Come on, Michael. This is embarrassing. I have to save you twice in one day?” Connor says. It’s supposed to be a joke, Sherman thinks. But the terror in Connor’s voice makes it too high-pitched, too stressed, for that relaxed tone. And Connor should be scared. Sherman is about to pass out from the pain. Michael is utterly useless. To cover two deadweight demigods? Sherman wouldn’t want to be in Connor’s shoes either. He should help him out at the least. 

“I’ll do it. But I need a big opening. And don’t count on me actually succeeding. My arm is shot,” Sherman gasps. And attempts to get to his feet. But his leg is definitely broken. And his attempt of standing results in him falling onto his side completely. Damn it. The force of the Giant’s club probably burst a couple organs as the shock is distributed throughout his body. 

What a shitty way to go, Sherman thinks.

Before he can hit the ground though, a hand catches him by the shoulder and he’s cradled against a chest as he’s laid gently on the ground. 

“How about we play a game?” Travis announces above him, hands warm with fresh blood, his eyes just as wide and wild as Connor. “Each time we save Michael’s butt, we get a point. The one with the most points wins. Sherman has 3. Connor has 2. Bet I can get more though compared to you two.” 

Sneaky bastard. 

“Wait, this…isn’t fair. I can’t move,” Sherman wheezes and he grabs Travis’s slippery wrist. Slippery? Sherman looks and it’s coated with blood. Who’s blood is this? Definitely not Travis’s. Well, Travis is fine. Sherman can think about it later and continue to wheeze, “I… need you to postpone this until… I’m at the top of my game.”

Travis has the audacity to smirk at him. “No can do, Sherman. But tell you what, this game lasts for life so you can play catch up after you get better.”

And Connor is quickly catching on to the plan, taunting with a desperate gleam in his eye, “I bet I can get into the tens right now. None of you guys will ever catch up.”

An arrow flies between them and lands in the giant’s eye. In a poof of dust, the giant is gone. Sherman grins. Connor sighs in relief and Travis laughs. 

Michael, a sniffling mess, but now armed with his bow and standing, stomps his way over to the three of them. 

“You guys… are such… assholes,” Michael chokes out in between his tears. 

That’s the last thing he sees, Michael’s back with his bow pulled taunt, before he passes out. 

Harley — Protect 

Harley (8) - Connor (16) 

February 2011

Camp is awesome. It’s more awesome during the summer when everybody is here and the cabin is full. But it’s also pretty fun after summer too. He has so many big sisters and brothers who watch out for him. And they all let him get away with whatever he wants! It’s great! 

Will and Nico are like his parents. They bicker a lot, but they also watch each other's backs. Nico gets him McDonald’s whenever he goes out and Will gives him extra smiley stickers whenever he visits. 

Kayla is so nice. Even though he’s not good during the archery lessons, she doesn’t roll his eyes at him or send him away. 

Austin is also super nice. He’s super patient showing him how to play the piano. Austin is also super talented when he 

Sherman isn’t as nice as Nico and Apollo's cabin but Sherman lets him ride on his shoulders sometimes. 

Miranda is Sherman’s girlfriend and she’s

Malcolm is hard to understand sometimes, especially when he starts using big words, but Malcolm is super smart and helps him with his homework all the time. He’s really good at making his homework relate to his creations!

Damien, Valentina, Chiauri, Paolo, and Billie are nice to him but they don’t really talk much together. Same with Julia, Alice, Cecil, and Ellis. 

Holly and Laurel are the funnest. They always do their very best in all his courses. They put their all into it. They ask him to make his projects bigger and bigger even when the others tell him he needs to put a lid on it. 

Nyssa, his sister, is the best one though. She helps him make his projects. She sings him lullabies when he wakes up from a nightmare. She tosses him ideas when he’s stuck. He helps her put stickers on the ceiling and the roof of the cabin. 

But out of all of them, Connor has the best stories. He knows almost everything since he’s been at camp for so long. He even came to camp when he was younger than him! Even stuff that Nyssa has no clue on, Connor knows. Like how Percy was like back before he became a hero or how Annabeth was when she was his age or even who Beckendorf is. Nyssa came to camp after Beckendorf died so she doesn’t know who he is. But his brother Jake does and Jake would get this sad face whenever he talks about Beckendorf and his voice starts wavering like he’s about to cry. 

Harley hates making his family sad so he never asks Jake, but Connor doesn’t have the same sad smile as Jake. He makes a weird face. Harley can’t exactly describe what kind of face, but it’s not as sad as Jake and it’s not angry too. 

Nyssa says Connor hides his sadness better than Jake does, but Harley doesn’t understand that. Connor never seems bothered by anything. Especially when Connor tells his stories with a grin. Jake didn’t smile at all when Harley asked about Beckendorf. So Connor’s alright with it, right? Connor is okay with him asking? 

Oh. That's another thing. Connor teaches him cool stuff like breaking into locks. Nobody else teaches him stuff like that. They all say it’s ‘unappropriate’ and a ‘waste of time’. 

Mostly it’s Sherman saying it’s a waste of time. Why break into something when you can smash it? 

“You’re the most talented 8 year old I know,” Connor says with his big grin, “When I was 8, I mostly made smoke bombs to annoy Annabeth with.” 

“What was like? Back then? Was Percy always super cool and awesome? Was Annabeth 

Valentina — Dating

Austin said Connor is sad and a bit down because Travis is gone.

The solution? The perfect solution with absolutely no holes whatsoever? The solution that will not only help Connor but also help her because there will be no pesky son of Hermes stopping her from raiding the inventory?

Get Connor a romantic partner.

(“That’s a horrible plan,” Chiaura tells her.

“Yeah. But there’s nothing else to do here. So let’s do it,” Damian says, rubbing his hands together menacinglg.)

Easier said than done though.

The dating pool here is abhorrent. 

Austin is too young. Will and Nico are a couple and so is Miranda and Sherman. Damien and Chiaura like each other. Kayla doesn’t see Connor that way. Holly and Laurel are too occupied with each other to focus on anything else. The many dryards and nymphs of this camp see Connor as nothing more than a younger brother, having watched him grow up since he was six-years-old. 

Which only leaves Malcolm, Paolo, and herself if she excludes all mythological beings. 

She’s off the table because she hates Connor with a burning passion. He’s soooo annoying. Bossy too! They’re definitely not compatible. 

And Paolo is hers. They’re going to date and get married and have two kids and get a house in the beautiful suburbs of California. 

So that only leaves Malcolm. 

Malcolm has to be the one for Connor! They’re about the same age. They have similar interests. They have similar experiences. 

They’re perfect for each other! 

It’s settled.

Operation Romance can begin. 

add:

A dance

Fake dinner date

Malcolm tells valentina it’s not going to happen and to stop

Katie asks valentina to help her get along with travis and connor again after they fought

Misunderstanding, V thinks Katie wants to date one of them. 

[abominationvault]

Session 28: Sat 9 Mar 2024

Notes will be minimal! Sprocket and Luna are away this week, so Jorg’ath is taking on the cat and I am puppeting Sprocket and Augustus.

Hartvig’s rotten lung is still giving him trouble. Longest cough he’s ever had, he says. The DM thinks we should be able to finish this level of the dungeon today. Hartvig: “Aw, he hasn’t played with us before, has he?”

We decide to take the sickies to the temple for healing while the rest of us shop. Skabb asks if one of the priests can 'lance her pustules'. She starts a sentence with, “Also, whatever comes out of those pustules…” and the rest of us have to interrupt her before she can finish.

Jorg’ath burritos Skabb so she won’t have to see the books. The priests cast Remove Disease on all of us who need it, including Sprocket and Augustus. We buy scrolls, potions and holy water, and make some ammunition. (Skabb makes an inquiry about using Nadia’s crafting skills to preserve her frog-head hat. It may involve the use of her own piss in the tanning process, which she reminds us is canonically thick like treacle. Nadia will need some new safety gloves.)

We ask the priests about ghouls, and the possibility of having Augie as the town guardian. After all, he only eats other ghouls. The issue might be finding him things to eat once the town is safe. He’s been surviving down there for a while now, and he can’t have been eating ghouls the entire time. He can probably eat other things, the DM tells us. After a quick medicine check, Jorg’ath thinks Augie doesn’t carry ghoul fever. He is diseased, but the ghoul fever doesn’t seem to carry over - if he were to bite you, you wouldn’t become infected.

Jorg’ath wants to buy a very specific list of meats and mushrooms, and offer each to Augie in turn to see what he likes. He also wants to buy a bow - a shortbow, for now. A longbow seems a bit overkill for dungeons. He’ll want a composite, as he’s strong like an ox. The DM consults his price list: 14gp. Nadia stumps up the cash, as he’s saved her life a few times. We sell the books in Augustus' tummy for 20gp (now in Augustus' inventory).

Skabb consults her spell list, and re-summons Grabby Cat again.

Hartvig wants to scrounge around for different metals to do different stuff with his Needle Dart cantrip. On the way back to the lighthouse, Skabb hunts high and low for bugs to eat; she rolls a 27 Nature check and is able to fill her pockets. And her mouth. We roll her the rest of the way.

Big group high five, and back into the wilderness!

Luna drops into sneak as we arrive, and we all copy her. Sprocket trips and accidentally casts Bullhorn (nat 1 stealth). We put him in a papoose so he doesn’t have to walk.

We find a little bit to the north of the map where we were just fighting, and Jorg’ath and Nadia see a small gap where the stream runs through. It looks as if it goes down - maybe by a floor or so.

Skabb sends Grabby down, but the DM hasn’t done the map yet so he just describes it - the water runs out into a room, then a cavern with a raised platform above the water. She can smell sweat and wolf, and can hear a humanoid voice. Grabby has just been re-summoned and doesn’t fancy dying again just yet, so she flies back to Skabb.

Jorg’ath finds a tunnel to the south, and makes a Perception check, 17. “Never mind!” says the DM. Nadia spots a door. Jorg’ath makes a Nature check, and he thinks these tunnels look like Purple Worm tunnels. He also thinks they probably lead back to Otari. The door leads back to the circular room outside the library - it’s locked, so Luna picks it for us.

(Skabb waits until we’ve all gone ahead to rub some wee into her frog hat. Perhaps she's getting a head start on the tanning.)

We move north to an unexplored area of the map, and Skabb finds a door. She listens - Perception 20 - nothing. She opens it - oooh, it’s locked. “Oooohhh, Luna!” she cries, before we remember the little glowing fey creature. He was reading a book, the DM reminds us. He had a key as well, perhaps...? Hartvig has two keys in his inventory - ‘key, large, silver’, and ‘library key’. It’s a different key altogether, but we do have it.

Skabb opens the door and then shuts it again very quickly. Whatever she saw looked skeletal, she says. The DM shows us a picture of what it looks sort of like, and we roll initiative:

It is carved to resemble Velcro…

Skabb goes first. “It’s made of wood, right? *looks for fire spells*." She mutters things like ‘burning hands’ and ‘fifteen foot cone’. She casts, and the golem gets a reflex save - it rolls a 29. She bangs her head on the table. The Golem then does something called Splinter Volley at her and Grabby Cat, rolling a 31 to hit Skabb and 26 to Grabby. Unfortunately its attack is a crit, and it one-shots Skabb.

It hits Hartvig with a 17 - that hits him for 13 piercing. Then it crits Jorg’ath, rolling a green 26, for 40 crit damage, and even though its attack number is red it still hits Grabby. She doesn’t go down, luckily.

Since we haven’t hurt it yet, Hartvig does a big 3-Action Heal with the scroll he’s very glad now that he bought. He brings Skabb back, and heals everyone else, and earns a Hero Point!

Sprocket and Augustus do Boost Eidolon, and Augustus charges in. He can’t quite get where he’s going so he casts Shield.

Nadia runs up and since no-one is in melee, throws her Redpitch Bomb. It misses, but the splash damage does 4d8 (17!) fire damage!

Jorgath gets in there, misses, then Hero Points his attack for a 28 to hit. “I would like to do 6 slashing damage please.”

DM: “It will take one.”

We are all outraged. His axe isn’t made of Adamantine, but it is made of Greatness. Surely that should count?? For his last action, he falls off the table he’s leapt onto and grapples it. He declares that his axe is stuck in the top of its head. He rolls very poorly on his Athletics to grapple the golem and uses another cheeky little Hero Point for a crit success!

Luna leans around the corner and takes aim with her bow - 26 to hit for 9 damage.

Skabb doesn’t have any other fire spells she can use, because she’s actually prepared her spells properly, and is suitably annoyed. She does Recall Knowledge - all golems are immune to magic, with exceptions. Wood Golems are susceptible to fire magic, but invulnerable to everything else.

Cooooooooool.

It also apparently reduces bludgeoning damage, as she finds out when she whips a sling bullet at it. (It reduces the damage by five.) She throws her weapons on the floor and storms out. (She doesn’t really, but she does start stuffing slugs in her mouth so she can eat them before she dies.)

The Golem makes an escape attempt from Jorg’ath’s grapple; it rolls a 35 to Jorg’ath’s nineteen, and punches him - but misses. It goes again and hits him for 16.

Hartvig has a big dangerous fire spell (“Do it,” we all cry.) 20 misses, so he Hero Points it and rolls worse.

Augustus approaches the Golem and gives it a Regular Fist Thump (as magic will do nothing) but it reduces the five damage he does manage to do, to nothing.

Nadia has similar luck with both Alkonost and Bluebird.

Jorg’ath Rages and does 14 slashing reduced to nine, plus four acid. It takes all four of the acid!

Luna shoots and hits for 5 piercing (it is reduced down…) She crit succeeds her stealth check and melts back into the shadows.

Skabb flanks the golem with Augustus and goes in with her grill, but 19 misses - she Hero Points it for a 26! She rolls 6 damage, reduced down to one.

The wood golem takes a swing at Augustus and gets a howdy doodis on him, taking both him and Sprocket out, and then crits against Jorg’ath.

Hartvig is up. Run? He does his Focus spell, Fire Ray, again, and hits! 32 damage, five of which is Persistent! He does now have Moderate Curse, so he is feeble, dazzled, and emitting ash for ten feet around himself. He shuffles back fifteen feet shouting “don’t look at me!”

Nadia shoots but misses, and Jorg’ath fails a death save. Sprocket uses his last Hero Point to come back up with 1 Hit Point.

Luna wants to creep into the room and grab Skabb, and drag her out. She backs out, leaving a dying Jorg’ath in the room with the golem. He uses his Hero Points to come back up to 1hp I think? No, he’s stabilised. Luna shuts the door on her way out.

Skabb uses an action to give Grabby two and sends her to fetch Augie from his spa day, and does a 2 actioner on Sprocket for 10.

The Golem takes more fire damage, 15. None of us see the state it’s in as the doors are shut now. It makes no attempt to leave the room.

Hartvig Heals Skabb, as she’s closest, for 16 plus 12! 28 total, nice. Sprocket re-summons Augustus - just as Augie arrives with Grabby Cat sitting on his head like a Davy Crockett fascinator!

We wait out a round to see what happens...

The golem takes his persistent damage and burns to a cinder! Skabb wades through Hartvig’s ash and hugs his leg.

We run in and Heal lizard-bro. He is draped over a sculpture of Absalom, bleeding green blood all over it. Skabb slaps some Healing mud on him, and Hartvig uses a scroll on Augustus and Sprocket.

Nadia makes a Society check; the model is Absalom, but she (and Sprocket) can make out no further details. Jorg’ath knows it’s not just a sculpture of Absalom. The damage on it corresponds to the damage the actual damage the city itself has taken, but only that which occurred more than 500 years ago. None of the damage on the sculpture depicts damage the real city has taken more recently in that.

There are books in here about the various siege attempts on the city, and many have been annotated. There is another 4 bulk of books we could flog; Augustus opens his mouth.

Skabb listens at doors, but hears nothing. She does feel heat coming out from under one door. “Ohhhh, Grabby Cat!” She asks Augie if he knows what is behind the door, but he has no idea.

Jorg’ath kicks open a different door. Behind it is a cave, and it looks like someone has been doing mining - seems that Velcro was planning an extension of some kind. He spots a plus 1 striking pick, and he pops that in the old pocket.

Skabb opens her door. It is blisteringly hot in here, but the source of the heat isn’t immediately obvious. Jorg’ath, a lizard, wants to bask in the heat - he goes in and is told to stop where he is…

His Intelligence score is ten; not enough. Skabb hops in - 18 Intelligence, so she must roll Initiative. “I might die twice in one game!” she announces cheerfully.

The lid of the furnace in front of her pops open, and two flaming ghosts come screaming out. She tries to put them out with Hydraulic Push. The water goes straight through the ghosts - but she was aiming at the furnace, she insists. Her attack hits, for nine damage.

She takes 7 fire damage when it retaliates, and loses some random memories. They fade like pages burned from a book. She is Stupefied 1…

Jorg’ath and Luna also see what’s going on, and both jump in. Luna busts out the Wand of Quenching, and will, quote, “quench the fuck out of that shit.” The air in the room becomes saturated with water vapour, the fire does not go out, and the ghosts ignore it all entirely.

It’s super humid in there now, so Jorg’ath is feeling real good. He takes a whack at the furnace - 16 misses. He does an Intimidating Glare, after being reminded of how we defeated the kobolds - 18 Intimidation. It doesn’t seem to work…

Luna shoots and does some damage to the furnace, but not much. Sprocket casts Dispel Magic - and the furnace becomes inert, though he has the sense that it will reactivate at a later date. We drop out of Initiative, and Sprocket earns a Hero Point!

Jorg’ath finds a Ventriloquists Ring - gives +1 to Deception checks, activates once a day to cast Throw Voice (I think).

We call it there. We are off for the next few weeks, as it’s the DM’s birthday so he’ll be hammered on Saturday. After that Dragon’s Dogma 2 comes out so both me and him will be stuck into that for a while. :)

If we take out the last thing on the other side of these doors next time, the survivors will level up!

[frankhightower]

Is my queue full?

When I originally decided to open commissions back in 2017 (yes, the commission opening that broke me), I did a lot of little experiments and hard math and came to the conclusion that the maximum number of commissions I could be working on at a time was seven. I have now reached that number. So why does it look like I'm still asking for more?

How my queue works

For starters, I should probably indicate to any that are still questioning, that my queue is not a regular First-In First-Out queue, but a priority queue. Getting Halloween stuff done in time for Halloween, for instance, should be given priority. I also give priority to adopts, since there's a certain expectation that this is an "off the shelf" sort of product, so the sooner I create the "missing parts", the closer I can come to that expectation (and it's one I'm interested in keeping). Then there's a Round Robin -sort of algorithm to prevent starvation (for the non-computer-geeks, this means that if I feel I haven't talked to a commissioner in "too long", I will try to prioritize them, which inevitably results in cycling through the commissions -- e.g. if I were to have gotten all 7 on the same day and none of them had a halloween-like-deadline priority, you would probably see: the first week, me doing the base lines on all of them; the second week, flat colors on all of them in the same order, and so on) But at the end of the day, the priority of what to work on is set by my own mental health. Since having to "get professional help" mid-pandemic is what started me actually drawing every day (I was dealing fine with the lockdowns, but everyone around me wasn't and that was, to put it mildly, unmanageable).

I won't forget people if I get more

I keep a detailed spreadsheet of all my commissions (Trello just doesn't cut it for me), so there's no danger of me "forgetting" about a commission. I also periodically double and triple check PayPal to make sure I didn't miss any the last time I updated the spreadsheet. I don't post the spreadsheet publicly because there's sensitive information on it, and all the public really needs to know is already in the journal header on FA. For historical purposes, the journal header currently reads Current queue: Jespe, secret commissioner, Medieval YCH(Nezmog, Jespe, TaurusProductions, Microcub), Jespe again, Halloween YCH, Xyie, Pokémorph Adopts(Soraxel, buckywhitetail13) Those are the seven (though you could argue they're actually 11).

Why I'm asking for more

The dry spell of the summer was exceptionally dry (I got 1 commission in the entire month of July 2023 despite posting a lot about my commissions, vs. 6 in July 2022 when I barely posted at all), and while I knew summers would be dry, I was not prepared. I expected, at least, to count on my day job, but with the pandemic "over", I discovered that all that was propping my income up was pandemic bonuses/stimuli. I survived by maxing out my credit, and now need to repay it: my debt payments have doubled from what I told you at the start of the donation drive. To put it simply: I'm scared.

What I'm doing to manage it

While I won't be limiting my queue, I am toning down on promoting my "products". I had planned, for instance, to unveil a new adopt for every one that got adopted (I've identified 36 of my designs that might "qualify", or about 10% of all the pokémon I've drawn -- remember I did the Kanto 150 twice) but now I've decided to put off so much as contacting the original recipient until the queue has shrunken somewhat. While I still intend to do a YCH for November, I will probably also put off on unveiling that. And, of course, I'm going to let the finished commissions speak for themselves, rather than do "I'm open!" reminders.

Posted using PostyBirb

[whats-up-gamerz]

Reflecting on Individual Progress

The end of the semester has come...

Learning Reflection

Most Insightful: Hmm.. probably a good half of the Kapp textbook. I had previously heard of some concepts that might’ve been here (player types, for example) but so Kapp spelled out so many things I’m glad to have a resource that spells out- especially his lists on achievement types and purposes!

Still Want to Learn: Oh, so much. I’d love to see some good research on games in learning. But also I really enjoy the process of integrating games into lessons specially, combining my passion and experience in education with my passion and growing-experience in designing games, so I think the forefront of my mind right now is: “How can I make this my daily job?” Ha!

Likes/Dislikes: I really LOVED getting to apply my practice in learning objectives to something as exciting as a game... in the classroom, while I enjoy the more abstract and overarching parts of lesson design, a good part of that work goes unnoticed... I’d say my least favorite parts involved asynchronous discussion. I really wanted to delve deep into some of the concepts and that is a huge struggle to do through a message board, both in general and for myself personally. (My real least favorite was the outside struggles this semester limiting my energy, health, time, etc.... but that’s not helpful for a reflection, ha!)

Skill Reflection

Attributes: Honestly, I struggled to complete the entire activities at times. In the beginning of the course, when I had more time, I would complete tasks thoroughly and document them well. As time became slim, however, I was able to spend less time diving into tasks, and sometimes left them undone... a big disappointment for me. I enjoy the practices!

Skills: Hmm.. my favorite skills were for the GameStorming in the beginning. I took time to complete each and every step with my roommate, doing some of the processes three or four times for each of several promising game ideas. We have our game ideas still written, actually, for future reference... that felt like the skills that were the most concretely beneficial to me. That might be because plenty of the “learning” portions, such as learning objectives and Bloom’s taxonomy, designing assessments, etc., are familiar to me through teacher’s college and teaching...

View Towards Learning Games

My view towards learning games honestly hasn’t changed much. I started this course excited as an educator to find ways to integrate games not designed for learning into learning experienced (as this is something I’ve already done HEAVILY in the past with board and card games in the classroom). If anything, I simply feel better armed to analyze and defend games as learning experiences.

Serious Game Definition

Well, I don’t remember exactly what I wrote before (and I won’t go cheat to check before writing this reflection!), but I remember disliking the term “serious games.” I believe I didn’t like the distinction, as if a game that was not designed for learning or where the learning was not immediately apparent was somehow a lesser game due simply to this fact. And I won’t lie, I still feel this way! I’m not in love with the distinction in general, or at least my understanding of it. I would define a “serious game” as a game that is a game who main goal is not entertainment but instead something considered more “useful” such as education or betterment. But to elucidate why I disagree with this, taking games (something I would art to be an art medium as well as a needs-meeting function just like games in general) and reducing their identity to their ability to produce profit and increase capital is a very capitalistic mindset. Instead I would rather not create a strong distinction between games designed for learning and games that are not- Portal was not designed for learning, but I think I did a pretty good job showing how one could use it for that! Is Portal then not a “serious” game? By definition, no. And yet, it’s a great learning tool! Just the same as my use of games like One Night Ultimate Werewolf in the classroom- I’ve found how to cultivate and assess skills outside the intended design of the game. Thus I don’t think it’s an appropriate or useful term. Rather, I think better defining and legitimizing the process of applying learning objectives and skills to an item (such a video game, designed with any purpose in mind- art, profit, fun) as a vital part of future learning design.

Thanks so much for reading and have a great winter!!