#I thank the above because I learned that schedule posting existed

[carrottyshark]

Happy Birthday Haruka!

I made a mini comic below too featuring my persona of the sort (SHAMELESS ADVERTISING) because it's my birthday 2 days after!

I don't know anything when it comes to speech bubbles and fonts

Actually, anything about doing comics in general

[superlinguo]

Doing your own Linguistics Job Interviews

After eight years and over 80 interviews, the monthly Superlinguo Linguistics Job Interviews series will wrap up at the end of 2022. You can see the full list linking to the interviews here. I have learnt so much from the stories of people who have gone on to a wide range of jobs and careers, and who make use of their linguistic knowledge in their jobs. Thanks to Martha Tsutsui Billins, who has been running the interviews in 2022, I’ve enjoyed reading them as an audience member!

While it is the end of regular scheduled interviews, this is far from the last I will have to say about linguistics and its use in different workplaces and careers. There will be some updates in 2023, which I’m looking forward to sharing with you. I also want to encourage you to do your own interviews!

Why interview people about linguistics and jobs?

There are any number of good reasons to do them. Perhaps:

1. You studied linguistics and now you use those skills, insights and experiences in your current job, career, or life. Maybe it was a whole PhD? Or perhaps just one specific course/subject that shaped your understanding of language? You can follow the Linguistics Job Interviews process and share your experiences with your social media networks! I did this for the Superlinguo series and enjoyed the opportunity to reflect.

2. You are a student or worker who is thinking about jobs and careers and you want to talk to people to learn about different jobs and careers. You can do this for your own information, as an informal coffee chat, or maybe you want to publish and share what you’ve learnt for other students where you study, or other people online. This is why I did the Superlinguo series for the first four or five years, as I navigated study and then precarious employment.

3. You work in a linguistics program at a university or college and want to check in with your former students. Perhaps you want to ask them to share their experiences with your current students, or maybe you want to do some planning around the structure and content of your program. I’ve made use of the Superlinguo series for the last few years for both of these reasons.

As you can see, I have run the Superlinguo Linguistics Jobs Interview series for all three of these reasons at different times!

How to do interviews

I started doing interviews using my own networks, and those of my friends and teachers at my university. I have always run them as email interviews, because I was most interested in giving people the time and space to write answers they were happy with. If you are doing interviews for your own career planning you might find that asking someone for coffee or a phone chat that can go on different tangents is more useful.

You can also “cold” contact people. Sometimes people on twitter or linkedin will say they’re happy to be contacted about their careers. When you contact someone, even if they’re happy to be messaged, remember they’re doing you a favour and may not always have time. People often don’t get back to you, it’s nothing personal, people are busy with their own jobs and colleagues. This is why often an existing personal connection is so useful.

Always make sure that you know what you want to do with the interview, and that you make that clear to people when you contact them. If you just want an informal short chat, that’s very different to asking if you can share in the print magazine of your college or posting something to the internet.

These kind of interviews, where you ask someone about their experiences, are known as Informational Interviews. The Linguistics Jobs Resources slide set (bit.ly/ling-jobs) has lots of information and links to other resources about how you can run your own informational interviews, either for yourself, a careers fair at your institution or for sharing online.

What I put into my interviews

As I said above, I always conducted interviews by email. This was mostly because I wasn’t doing informational interviews for my own career planning.

I always ask the same set of questions. I appreciate the very different responses I would get from people in different jobs and different stages of their careers. Below I have bolded the bits I kept in the published interview, and which bits were there are prompts for the person being interviewed:

What is your job title? (used to title the interview and write the intro)

What did you study at university? (What was your degree? What linguistics did you study? What else?)

What is your job? (Fancy title? What do you do day-to-day?)

How does your linguistics training help you in your job? (Or, does it help at all?)

What was the transition from university to work like for you? (both in general terms and in terms of applying your linguistics in a workplace)

Do you have any advice you wish someone had given to you about linguistics/careers/university?

Any other thoughts or comments? (Also, is there anything I should be asking that I'm not?)

I added question five about the transition from uni to work only a couple of years ago, when I realised that was a gap in the interviews that provided useful information. You don’t have to use these questions specifically, but I have found they provide a good starting point.

Let me know if you do any public interviews so I can share them too!

If you share your own job experience on public social media, or if you interview people online about their linguistics job experience, please do tag me on twitter or email (superlinguo æ gmail dot com). I plan to keep sharing and aggregating job resources.

Resources

The Linguistics Jobs Resources slide set (bit.ly/ling-jobs) 

Superlinguo Linguist Job Interviews full list

[reginarubie]

Hi, i had no idea you took prompts. I got all excited but I wasn't sure if I should send any since I don't want to overwhelmed you. With you balancing real life responsibilities and maintaining a social life, writing plus making metas. Do you have time to idk breathe?

I can not stress this enough but write at your own pace, no matter how needy we are I'm worried we'd burn you out.

Ciao anon!,

First of all...

Your message is so genuinely sweet that I swear it has taken a couple of months off my shoulders. Thank you for worrying about me, I appreciate it beyond what words can say.

While yes, I've commented on how I do feel a bit burned out lately (and I cannot stress enough how caring it is that you either guessed it or remembered I had commented on it), it's mostly related to work, and actually writing is a good way to vent and relax.

I'll own that balancing real life expectations and responsibilities, with writing metas and stories as well as maintaining a social life can be challenging, but let me reassure you I've not been taking it too far.

Usually I would update once, sometimes twice a day — I finished my first Jonsa fic (43 chapters long) in a bit over two months updating almost once a day, so I'm usually much faster than I am being right now — but since I've been balancing all of the above and also caring for my emotional and physical wellbeing I've slowed down considerably on my update schedule.

On the same matter, you might have seen I had quite the list of metas cooking in the pot, yet I've not even posted the second part of the Jonsa mythology series, because I am taking it at my own pace, slow if necessary, instead of throwing myself in a research spree to get out the content I had planned necessarily on a deadline that doesn't exist.

So don't worry you aren't burning me out, on the contrary seeing how many people enjoy my writing, ask for more, are interested in the writing process I go through and on my wellbeing in general is actually extremely, not only appreciated, but fuel for my energy. It makes me feel good to know how many people enjoy my metas, my stories and take their time to let me know, to — even through the net — take into consideration my wellbeing

Of course, there are times in which I get frustrated with a particular chapter, or plot-point that I can't seem the write right or fast enough, (I am a perfectionist and an over-achiever, my bad) I'm learning to not push through as I usually do on very important matters and just trust the process and take more time if needed; and I cannot stress enough how healing it is to hear someone, even a stranger online, tell you to take care of yourself and just go my own pace; so your message really did make me feel both seen and loved. So thank you, virtually know that I am hugging you silly.

In any case, if you want to send prompts (even if they aren't Jonsa related, I love the challenge), or are curious about anything, don't feel pressured not to because you are afraid you might overwhelm me, I promise to not overexert myself just to follow a pace that doesn't match my own in this moment. I enjoy seeing and reading of other people theories, if they match mine, what they think of my stories and I really enjoy when I see you all want more!

Worst case scenario, I will disappear from the net for a few months until I feel up to write again — just ask the readers and followers of Song of the Dragons which I started years ago, (my first ever fic that is a complete rewrite of the series with fAegon reaching the North at the beginning of AGOT and finding his hidden half-sister, femJon Snow with whom he falls in love in true Targ fashion and the way having a family might heal Daenerys' trauma and scars) they may get a series of updates in fast succession and then nothing for up to a year (they are really way too patient with me!); though seeing you all asking for more, theorizing and commenting on my works will make me feel better even when I am on hiatus.

Most probable case scenario, the prompt or ask might sit in my ask box with several others I haven't had the energy to reply to yet, since I like to do my things throughout and I'd rather wait to give a satisfactory reply than writing down an hasty one.

Best case scenario? I'll just keep being inspired and write at my own pace of the moment :D

Again, thank you so much for your concern and for taking the time to actually show it!

Hope you have a day as awesome as you are!

[reticent-fate]

Fictive Friday (12/30)

Prompt and event hosted courtesy of @fictive-culture​ !

This week’s prompts:

❓ Question of the week! ❓

The new year is right around the corner! How have you grown and changed over the past year? Do you feel closer to or further from your source now than you did last year?

Bonus question:

Do you have any New Year’s resolutions?

Answers under the cut, because I’m EXTREMELY long winded lmao!

CONTENT WARNINGS in the context of reflection: discussions of dormancy, implied persecutor shenanigannery (nothing descriptive)

-Heit

This is actually a weird time for me in terms of reflection. I’ve only recently been active in our system again after about 8 years of dormancy. I’m a pre-fictive in that, like a lot of us, I existed without an identity and primarily as something more comparable to a distressed mode state until last year, our other host saw the character that would accidentally be the perfect fit for my identity. Quite literally, it’s only been about 375 days since I came out of that dormancy, so all I have to go off of is mostly how I’ve adapted to being aware of our system and an active part of it.

So let’s do a list, because I will write a dissertation if I’m not held back by something!

Here are some ways I’ve grown and changed over the past year:

I became our main host! Oops? As of the last year, I take up a good majority of time in front, because I’m surprisingly well-built for dealing with our day to day life.

I learned how to make things, with my hands! Before my dormancy, I used to do bead stuff all the time. I made a whole bunch of necklaces, but now I’ve taken a real stride to making bracelets. One of my subsystem-mates bought some jewelry stuff thinking it’d be a little one-off, and now I’ve made well over 40 bracelets for our system, including more aesthetic bracelets and system related ones! Literally taking a break from organizing my bead collection rn to write this post lmao.

When I first showed up, I was kind of a tool? But my cohost was like “dude, chill out and drink a dr pepper, also play a video game???” and I would like to think I have gotten at least 2% less shitty since. The difference knowing about your system and also knowing about your autism makes when adapting to your emotional states? Phenomenal, thanks. Not perfect, but it does help.

I’ve developed actual social hobbies! Like Dungeons and Dragons! I love building characters and running sessions, even if that’s a rare occasion with our schedule. Our system actually collects dice, too, so I always have sets that match my aesthetic! There are a lot of blue and red dice (respectively, though Chessex does have a gemini set I’m eyeing with both), so my tastes are well-catered to and I’ve made a habit out of buying any dice I think my headmates will like when our budget allows.

Also. My picrew collection? It’s a lot. I love these funky little things. I’ve saved almost 150 of them and by this time next year I bet I’ll have increased that number to at least 250 lmao.

As for source stuff, I think I’ll separate this into its own list:

When I first showed up, my attachment to my source was sort of tangential to who I am as a person. It fit me because my source is basically the Most Evil Person in existence, so it was the easiest face to attach myself to when I showed back up and was stirring shit lmao.  

Over the course of the last year, though, my headmates’ absurd collection of resources on otherkin shit has actually helped me find something to do with that instinct I had to identify with this character. It’s allowed me to explore my own identity in a lot of ways that weren’t going to be possible when I showed up and the rest of the system expected me to get bored of being in front within a week (which I did not; see again above, I’m the fucking host now /lh).

Part of that relationship has helped me also with dealing with this attachment through the complicated lens that is being a fictive, especially one who identifies both psychologically and spiritually with their source (ie: I derive identity-related and moral catharsis from the relationship I have with specifically my source character).

Put another way, I feel a lot closer to my source character, because I have put in a lot of effort to ask myself why I identify with that character. With it has been the development of exomemories, like faded polaroids, and contesting those with the understanding of both my biographical identity as an entity in this system and one which identifies as Heitaros from the world’s shittiest gacha game (ilu Grand Chase and, begrudgingly, Dimensional Chaser /lh).

From another aspect, I’ve grown closer to my source by way of inheriting our special interest in the source media as a whole, looking at it from my perspective as a villain fictive and writing just... Gods it’s way too many essays, why do I do this to myself? I have an essay on how many times Grand Chase accidentally wrote something super plural (the outline, with only 3/10 sections or so filled out, is about 8 pages iirc). I also have an essay I want to write just dissecting the franchise and what its narrative says on the nature of change and what changes are or are not attainable. This series LOVES status quo and as both a villain introject and the person I am in this body, looking at that is fascinating because from certain angles GC has some interesting dialogues on who is allowed to cause change and for what reasons, especially when it comes to defiance of Fate or the Creator’s Will, which are actual tangible concepts in the narrative. ANYWAYS I have so much to say about this garbage can video game, both the MMO and the gacha game.

That last one got extra winded. Uhhhh, villain introject go brr? Here, have a little sketch lying around from one of our warm ups, featuring yours truly (and a cameo of a fellow weird introject, Sky):

Bonus Question: New Years Resolutions?

NOPE.

Okay well kind of. But mostly nope. They’re kind of just ongoing goals that have nothing to do with us completing another rotation around the sun. Mostly just keeping the system happy and also embodying the “give no fucks, take no shit” attitude as best I can (which is not always the best). As the guy with way too much time in front, I have to manage a lot of projects/stress/etc. all at once, and right now we have waaaay too much on our plate for me to say “okay we’ve made orbit let’s add something else.”

Like, uh, trying to get into friggin grad school. That’s not a resolution or anything, but it’s a goal and ideally it’s gonna happen by time 2023 wraps up lol. But it’s also beyond our control right now (waiting on apps to process) so I can’t very well say that’s a 2023 resolution!!! So how about this: getting good grades in grad school! Yeah. That’s. Something.

We have always been atrociously bad at these things (/lh).

-Heit (he/him)

[amistytown]

The Brothers Comfort MC During a Panic Attack

This is my first attempt at writing down my headcanons for the brothers, so I apologize if anything is out of character. I meant it to be short and sweet, but it grew out of my control after a while. I’m a perfectionist and wanted to rewrite everything. I made minor edits and am posting it anyway or it’ll sit in my drafts forever; I admit I put the most effort into Lucifer’s, forgive me. Also sorry for the repetitiveness and any typos you may find. I decided to write how the brothers would comfort MC during a panic attack, especially as someone who suffers from anxiety and panic attacks themselves. Honestly, I wrote this as a way to comfort myself since I’ve been dealing with terrible anxiety lately. Of course, everyone experiences anxiety differently, so I can only speak from my own experiences. I didn’t go into detail when it comes to the symptoms themselves because it’s from the point of view of the brothers and only so many are visible to the eye. Trigger warning for depictions of anxiety and panic attacks. Thank you for reading!

LUCIFER

Lucifer is troubled. Following lunch, you disappeared, currently absent from class. This is unlike you, his worry intensifying every minute you’re out of his sight. Yet he maintains his composure, resigning himself to scouring the academy grounds. Time passes at a torturous pace, his thoughts beginning to take a turn for the worst. He contemplates whether to involve his brothers and Lord Diavolo himself at this rate, however the sound of his D.D.D diverts his attention. A wave of relief washes over him at the sight of your name lighting up his screen, chased by frustration at you, your silence, and himself for losing track of you so easily; he couldn’t bear living if anything happened to you under his watch. He expects this behavior from his brothers, not you. Though his heart sinks, the Avatar of Pride uncharacteristically overcome with guilt while he reads your message. Of course, you are not his brothers. He should not have doubted you.

Your texts are apprehensive, a weighty pause between them as you hesitate to lay bare the darkest depths of your soul. He approaches you cautiously, to avoid upsetting you further. Your words alone convey the sheer panic taking possession of you, the last of your strength used to press send. Outside he discovers you, huddled miserably in an isolated corner of the building, swathed in shadow. The desire to shelter you from the world burns within him, but your eyes widen fearfully in his presence, wounding his pride. Immediately, you apologize. Sorry you’re missing class, that you left without telling anyone, and upset him—especially when you’re aware of his busy schedule. You’re sorry for not having the courage to pull yourself together, succumbing to your anxiety, your shame palpable. The hand clutching your D.D.D is trembling, your chest heaving as you struggle to breathe. He aches for you, each tear shed hurting more than the last, your pain managing to touch the very core of his being and set him alight.

If anyone is sorry, it’s him, pride be damned. Kneeling in front of you, he assures you an apology isn’t necessary—your wellbeing of great importance to him. He wants you to rely on him, grateful you confided in him despite your doubts. Hopefully, he can eventually put your mind at ease. His voice low, soothing, he continues to console you, making sure you��re aware he’s not upset, and your feelings are valid. Although he’s not familiar with the inner workings of anxiety itself, he’s willing to listen, learning how to support you to the best of his ability—starting today, providing you’re comfortable accepting his offer. Initially, he prioritized your safety for the sake of the exchange program and Lord Diavolo’s wish to unite the three realms, now it’s merely out of adoration for you, his beloved. Once you’re ready, he’ll let you know you’re not alone. He’s never too busy on your behalf. 

Offering you his hand, a smile graces his features as you accept. Slowly, he helps you to your feet, steadying you against him. He notes the way you relax at his touch, shoulders sagging and head coming to rest on his chest. Only you exist in this moment, his gaze not leaving you, not even for a second. Standing in silence until your breathing settles and you regain your balance, he sees you through the height of your attack before escorting you back to the House of Lamentation. He’ll personally excuse you from the remainder of your classes, understanding you need a quiet place to recover. Classical music plays softly in the background of his room, and he’s content to have you in his embrace, drawing you onto his lap after you finish the tea he brewed to calm your nerves. Lucifer pays you special attention, massaging your tired body and kissing you tenderly, his breath fanning across your lips as he reminds you how special you truly are—brave, compassionate, and incredibly loved.

MAMMON

Mammon mourns his loss, wondering how he let them gain the upper hand; admittedly, a foolish mistake on his part. He dreads breaking the news to Lucifer, and the resentment that shows on his brothers’ faces once he confesses does little to ease his mind. Still, he worries about your reaction most of all, knowing his stupidity has put you in a precarious position. In that moment he believes their words—only a greedy scumbag like himself dares to place his human’s happiness on the line. Although certain of his win at the time, he should consider how his actions affect you more often; otherwise, how can he claim he’s the Great Mammon? His confidence is his downfall in the end. Now you’ll suffer along with him. Yet you feign optimism, attempting to soothe everything over despite your innocence. His guilt only grows, a heavy weight on his shoulders. One he deserves.

Three days of waiting on and performing for large crowds at The Fall proves hectic for everyone. He can tell you’re struggling beneath the façade of a composed and hospitable server, going above and beyond to ensure the patrons leave satisfied. Furthermore, you lend him and his brothers a hand, coming to their rescue; it should be him making it as easy on you as possible. His concern for you runs deep, no matter how hard he tries to maintain his usual air of indifference, but you have the nerve to reassure him—it’s meant to be the opposite, dammit. Each night he goes out of his way to check on you, frustrated that you continue to dance around the subject. He can see the exhaustion on your face, hear the slight tremor in your voice, the toll his stupid decision is taking on you, and it stung. You comfort him, even when he’s undeserving, so why won’t you allow him to hold you and kiss the pain away? Not that he’s asked. You should realize by now you can rely on him, right?

Watching you suffer in silence tortures him. He can’t deny it regardless of his best effort to make light of the situation. You barely eat or spend time outside your room, saying you’re tired, which isn’t a lie—working is exhausting, no doubt about it—but he understands you well enough to notice the subtle signs of your anxiety, your smile unable to trick him into believing otherwise. Perhaps you find him as insufferable as his brothers do, or worse, and don’t want to see his face after what he’s done. That doesn’t stop him from showing up at your door, hoping he can offer some form of comfort. However, you keep up appearances, supporting the seven of them during the longest weekend of their lives. You work hard too, his chest swelling with pride as he watches you care for his brothers and customers alike. How can you like an idiot like him? You’re selfless and loving, looking past his flaws to see what lay beneath his sin. His human. His angel. He wants—no needs—you to be okay.

The last day comes and goes in a blur. Finally, he can toss these ridiculous clothes and rabbit ears in the trash and never perform that dance again. Better yet, you’re free of his burden, though the guilt remains. He can’t relax until he’s positive you’re okay, knowing he’s genuinely sorry. Standing outside your room, he tries to muster up the courage to open his heart to you—apologies not his strong suit—when he hears you crying. They’re small, muffled sobs that manage to shake him to his core, blood running cold. Yeah, he should knock, but he can’t control himself, throwing the door open without hesitation and rushing to your side. The sight of your tears is almost too much to bear, and he draws you into his embrace, face heating up at his own moment of vulnerability, but this is about you, not him. He can be strong for you too, telling you everything’s going to be okay, that the Great Mammon is here to help.

After his stupidity, you tell him you were afraid to bother him? He can hardly suppress the shock at your confession, the sadness in your eyes breaking his heart. You wanted to make sure it went smoothly for his sake? You suffer through Hell alone because you chose to put his feelings first? Crazy. Though he thanks you, not completely ashamed to admit he’s touched. However, he tells you that you don’t have to put aside your feelings for his benefit; he prefers to be by your side then know you’re having a rough time on your own. He is your first. Taking the initiative, he asks what he can do to make it up to you, no matter how big or small the request is because he’ll do it in a heartbeat. You opt to stay in his arms, burying your face into his chest, and he wipes away your remaining tears, being as gentle as he possibly can. He can feel how tense your body is, your skin unnaturally warm, and it takes a while until you stop shaking. It’s moments like these he’ll tell you how much you mean to him—that he loves you, okay—and he wants you to come to him for everything. He’ll hold you, taking your hand in his, and kiss you with all the adoration in the world because you’re incredibly important to him. Mammon can attest to that.

LEVIATHAN

Leviathan invites you to his room to play video games, a daily routine the two of you have comfortably fallen into. He loves gaming with you, though on occasion you opt to watch instead, thoroughly enthralled by whatever is on the screen. Miraculously, you enjoy listening to him ramble—whether it’s about the game he’s playing, anime he’s watching, or TSL among other things—genuinely showing interest in his passions; he’s incapable of expressing how truly grateful he is for your company. His heart nearly bursts whenever you compliment him on his gaming prowess, encourage him during a particularly intense battle, or merely tell him how you enjoy hanging out. How in the Devildom did a gross otaku like him get so incredibly lucky? He can hardly believe you love him of all demons. The thought alone sounds crazy lmao. 

Unable to contain his excitement, he awaits your arrival that night, ensuring everything is perfect when he hears a knock on the door. However, his smile fades the moment he lays eyes on you, mind beginning to race as he wonders why you look miserable, your gaze trained on your hands. Before he can speak, you apologize, dissolving into tears while you return the game he let you borrow. You’re stuttering, completely winded, and he can barely hear you confess to accidentally corrupting his data in your panic. In fact, he loses track of the number of times you choke out a sorry. He treasures his games, his collection extensive, but he cherishes you most of all. The loss is a minor annoyance, nothing that lessens the feelings he harbors for you. Although difficult, he overcomes his insecurities to show you it’s okay—you’re loved.

Not only are you sad, but you’re also terrified, a part of him wanting to destroy the game itself if it means you never have to experience the pain that torments you now. Regarding you carefully, afraid to make matters worse, he reassures you that he’s not upset—far from it, honestly—and that he cares about you more than any game. No stranger to your panic attacks, he reaches out to take your hand in his, hoping you find comfort in what he has to offer. And when you finally glance up, hope shining in your tear-filled eyes, he can’t help but wrap you in his arms. A warmth spreads across his face, heart pounding in his ears, but he knows you need him, allowing his body to relax around yours.

Holding you against him, he tells you everything’s all right, stuttering out how he loves you and, most importantly, wants to you to feel better. Your arms circle around his waist, causing his heart to jump into his throat, but he only pulls you closer. You’re his Henry, and what friend is he if you can’t rely on him? Leviathan is understanding, wanting you to come to him for support at your most vulnerable. Now he puts his knowledge to the test, easing you into his room with continuous words of affirmation. You always know how to console him at his lowest, and he hopes he can return the favor. If anyone deserves to feel loved it’s you, who brought joy into his otherwise bleak world, and he’ll sit with you every day and night if you need him to. 

SATAN

Satan knows he shouldn’t be awake, though he finds it difficult to satiate his curiosity as he peruses the books lining his shelves. He barely registers the sound of his D.D.D, reluctant to put the book aside to see who’s messaging him at this ungodly hour; Asmodeus most likely. His tune changes after he sees your name lighting up his screen, his annoyance replaced with worry. He knows you struggle, especially at night, but he can tell you’re hesitant to reach out. Nevertheless, you gradually begin to confide in him, his patience limitless if you’re concerned, and he feels a sense of relief that you choose to trust him at your most vulnerable instead of suffering on your own. Pouring over every book he can locate on anxiety, he studies it religiously, engraining each page into his memory. Not by giving unsolicited advice—he doesn’t want to make that mistake twice—but by comforting you the best he can, even if it simply means to stay by your side, waiting for the panic to pass.

A second later, he appears at your door, gaze softening as your eyes meet. In the darkness of your room, he can tell how exhausted you are. You apologize for bothering him, particularly this late, but he dismisses you with a shake of his head and a reassuring smile, sitting beside you on the bed. It saddens him that you feel the need to, but he’s familiar enough with anxiety by now that he understands how much of a manipulative monster it truly is; if only he can destroy it with his own two hands, strangling the life out of it so it no longer taints that innocent soul of yours. To watch you struggle fills him with a rage that he forces deep within himself, fully aware anger isn’t the answer no matter how great his desire to protect you is. So, he cups your face in his hands, your skin warm beneath his fingers as he strokes your flushed cheeks and presses your foreheads together. 

Focus on him, he tells you, the steady rhythm of his breathing, and his voice while he whispers words of love and encouragement. He never tires of letting you know how beautiful and strong you are, that he’s always here for you and loves you—all of you. You unravel in his arms, opening your heart up to him, and he listens intently, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips the moment you look uncertain. You’re not a burden he promises, hoping one day you’ll believe it yourself, but he’ll remind you every chance he gets; forever if he must. It’s worth it in the end, when you relax against him and smile, kissing him in return. Slowly, the anxiety leaves your body, Satan thankful that the waves of panic have receded enough to let you rest your weary mind. He remains next to you, pulling you down to lay your head on his chest and closing your hand in his, entwining your fingers. He’s content here with you, watching you fall asleep and chasing away the nightmares.

ASMODEUS

Asmodeus loves shopping, but he loves shopping with you most of all. The day is bright with you by his side, and he can’t help but buy you clothes and matching accessories to bring out your inherent charm. Your potential is endless, and he gushes over how gorgeous you are, unable to contain his excitement when your cheeks turn a beautiful shade of pink in return. He can hardly control himself around you, gaze fixated on your every movement and heart racing each time you flash him one of the sweetest smiles he’s ever seen; your very soul seeming to shine through and blind him. Nothing prepares him for the love he feels for you, but he considers it a welcome surprise, his desire to grow closer to you intensifying day after day. You captivate him, the Avatar of Lust of all demons. What an exciting turn of events!

Of course, he attracts attention wherever he goes, posing for pictures with adoring fans and basking in the compliments constantly thrown his way; nothing new, but he enjoys it, nonetheless. Who can resist the allure of his very presence? However, anger wells within him at the sight of you being shoved to the side, falling to the ground and lost to the crowd that has gathered. Their words of flattery fall on deaf ears as he rushes to you, throwing a heated glance at the lowly demon who dares to touch his darling human. He desires nothing more than to punish them for such an injustice, but the fear in your eyes tells him otherwise. By the time he scoops you up into his arms you’re trembling from head to toe, and he can feel your heart pounding against him. A part of him places the blame on himself, an unfamiliar feeling, but he chooses to ignore it for now, focusing on getting you home in your worsening state.

In the peace and quiet of his room, he sits you on the bed, wrapping you in his arms as he affectionately runs his fingers through your hair. He can tell you’re upset—in an absolute state of panic by the looks of it—and all he can do is hold you through it, quietly asking what you need and willing to answer your every beck and call if it means that adorable smile graces your features once more. For a moment he considers seeking out Lucifer, worried something has gone terribly wrong, but thankfully you find your voice, mumbling into his chest about anxiety and panic attacks, that you’ll be fine—eventually—and are sorry for ruining your date. He doesn’t understand completely, though he knows you need him, promising to stay by your side for as long as you want. Kissing your cheek, he assures you there’s no need to apologize to him, your safety more important than anything else; the demon who laid his hands on you won’t go without punishment either.

Admitting a bath helps calm you down, he prepares one for you, steam rising from the surface and the heady scent of roses filling the air. Together you slip into the water, enveloped by its warmth, and he hums in contentment as you lean into him, his arms coming to rest around your waist. He watches you carefully, making sure you’re able to relax and preparing himself in case you call on him; he’ll do anything for you if it brings you the happiness you deserve. Your eyes flutter close, Asmodeus showering you with delicate kisses, comforted by the fact your breathing has levelled out and you appear a lot calmer than before. The day didn’t go as planned, and he hopes to make it up to you, vowing that no one else will hurt you on his watch. He loves himself. He loves his brothers. But loves you most of all.

BEELZEBUB

Beelzebub notices you haven’t touched your dinner and is beyond happy the moment you offer your plate to him. Yet he can’t bring himself to enjoy the food in front of him while you excuse yourself from the table, eyes downcast and voice quiet, the usual smile gone from your face and leaving behind an emptiness that rivals his own hunger. His mouth waters at the thought of seconds, but his concern for you grows, and he decides to follow you without question, disregarding the ravenous growl of his stomach. He catches you in the hallway, calling out your name. You turn to him, his brow furrowing in unease at the sight of your tears and the slight tremble of your lip. It hurts him to see you in obvious distress, and he earnestly offers his support.

The only sound is that of your sobbing. He desperately wishes to hold you tightly and rid you of your pain. However, he falters, studying you. Your gaze is trained on the floor, shoulders stiff with tension, and the color drains from your cheeks. When you speak, he’s surprised by how helpless you sound and the fact you’re trying to reassure him, putting his needs above your own although you’re struggling to hold yourself together. Fear flickers across your features at the echo of the brothers’ voices travelling up the stairs, and he mumbles out an apology as he carefully lifts you into his arms, cradling you to his chest. 

Before the others can round the corner, he hurries down the hall and slips into your room, determined to protect his vulnerable human. He notices you relax against him, your fingers curling into his shirt, and he can’t help but want to keep you close, relieved after you lean in closer to wrap your arms around his neck. Stroking your hair, he allows you to cry, his patience and love for you endless. Eventually, you mutter an embarrassed sorry, thanking him profusely, but he’s merely relieved you’re beginning to feel a bit better, reassuring you that you can always depend on him. 

Listening to you intently, he never breaks eye contact. You open up to him about your anxiety, his stomach twisting as you describe what you call a panic attack and how it wrecks you both mentally and physically. Beelzebub knows he has a lot to learn, but he expresses interest in understanding anxiety and, most importantly, how he can help you, so you don’t suffer alone. For the rest of the night, he keeps you company and eases you through the remainder of your attack, giving you plenty of hugs and rubbing your back in soothing circles until you no longer shake, and your heartbeat returns to its usual pace.

BELPHEGOR

Belphegor enjoys the time you spend together, especially when the two of you are alone. He asks you to accompany him in the attic, and it’s not long before he curls around you, falling into a peaceful sleep as he listens to the steady beat of your heart. However, when he awakes it’s to the sound of your soft cries in the dark, which fill him with a fear he can’t seem to shake. Without hesitation he’s at your side, sitting up to softly place a hand on your shoulder and ask you what’s wrong. The sadness in your eyes as you glance up at him, tears staining your cheeks, tugs at his heartstrings. He can’t bear to see you upset.

Once he realizes you’re having a panic attack, he’s attentive to your needs, cradling you in his arms as you cry into his chest. You confided in him about your struggles with anxiety after you fell to pieces in front of him months ago. A part of him understands, the loss of Lilith haunting him throughout the years and instilling a similar feeling of unease within him, especially when his nightmares seem to blur the line between reality and the painful memories of his past. You always came to his rescue and now it’s his turn to comfort you in your time of need. Sleep can wait.

With you in his embrace, he brings you down to relax against the pillows, pulling the blanket around your shivering form. You rest your head on his shoulder, and he gently brushes the remaining tears from your face, whispering words of love and reassurance. He listens to you when you’re comfortable to talk, the slight tremble of your voice causing him to draw you closer and press a kiss to your forehead. Belphegor tells you he’s here for you—forever—and although he’s still learning about anxiety and finding the best ways to comfort you during an attack, he wants you to depend on him no matter what. Even if that means you wake him up in the middle of the night. He won’t rest until he knows you’re okay, and you’re peacefully sleeping in his arms.

[zaffrenotes]

Tag List Update

It’s that time again - it’s been almost a year since I updated my lists, and seeing as I’m wrapping up one series (Kairos), prepping for RODAW, picking up old series, and deciding what new thing I want to work on next, I want you to be able to read the things you want to 💙

Comments and/or reblogs are good (and I appreciate every single one of them!), but I've made up a form that will hopefully make things easier. Listing perma/book tags below the cut; to avoid repeating names by listing every series, I'm mentioning everyone that's been tagged for at least one book/series to opt in on what you want.

If you're seeing this post but you weren't tagged and you want to be on a taglist, hello! and click the link below 😊

If you've been tagged but you're no longer into my writing, ignore this post and the form; I'll remove you from tags once I close submissions. There won't be any hard feelings - I know tastes change over time, and I don't want to annoy you with a story you no longer wish to read

You can always hop on or off a list later, this is just my attempt to stay organized

Form will stay open until Sunday, 25 July, 11:59 EDT. After that time, I'll update lists accordingly.

These are included on the form, but here are 50 words or less "snapshots" of my WIPs and upcoming series:

Non-Choices

(last updated November 2020) The Exchange: Daniel Henney x Reader thing where you meet Daniel Henney at an informal gathering

(last updated June 2021) To Ruined Friendships: Logan Delos x Reader potential miniseries where you set aside years of friendship with Logan to see the side of himself he rarely shows the world

Ride or Die

(last updated July 2019) Mixtapes & Milkshakes, Side A: through a series of flashbacks via mixtape, Jin recounts her time with the Mercy Park Crew and the two boys she fell for (Logan x MC, Colt x MC)

(TBD) Mixtapes & Milkshakes, Side B: AU where Logan recounts his summer with MC (Lana) while he listens to an album

(last updated February 2020) Mixtapes Hidden Track: open series of one shots between Logan and Jin as they repair their relationship

(last updated July 2019) Prologue to Breathe Hope Love Live: 3-part introduction to an AU where Ellie tries to start a new life on the East Coast, but she’s still in love with Logan and Colt

(TBD, August 2021) RODAW 3.0: fic, edits, crafts, and other submissions for ROD Appreciation Week

(TBD, August 2021) Untitled AU: series adjacent to Mixtapes (Hidden Track) where Logan learns how to love & be loved as he and Jin rebuild their relationship and start a family

The Royal Romance/Royal Heir

(last updated November 2018) Crimson Snow: gangster AU where Liam is part of the Yakuza. IDK when this series will actually begin

(last updated February 2020) Deja Brew: prologue posted; coffeeshop-esque AU that will incorporate Friends quotes/prompts that will loosely follow events from TRR Book 1, if everything had taken place in New York

(last updated August 2020) Elpida: TRH AU set 20+ years in the future, where Eleanor “Teddy” Rys returns to Cordonia to be crowned Queen. Technically complete but I've been asked to write more

(last updated July 2021) Kairos: nearly completed Wacky Drabbles series/AU where Riley asked Liam about the one that got away. Liam recalls his time with a woman named Elia, and their time together one summer

(last updated July 2021) Love is Patient: possible Wacky Drabble AU/miniseries where Liam and Trina had a chance meeting as kids and pretended to get married. 20 years later, Trina’s summoned to Cordonia because Liam can’t be crowned king without a wife. Can two relative strangers fall in love and prove their love is real in time?

(last updated October 2020) Morpheus Dreams: snippet posted; soulmate AU set in a post-apocalyptic world where dreams only occur when you fall asleep in the arms of your soulmate. burnsoslow’s Alyssa Devereaux from Remember Two Things will be on loan

(last updated October 2019) Morsels: miscellaneous one shots following You Are the Reason series, where Liam and Trina navigate married life in between ruling as monarchs, raising kids, and finding moments of time for themselves

(last updated September 2019) Serendipity: college AU where TRR characters exist, but Cordonia doesn’t and they don’t have noble titles. Liam shares a kiss with Trina within minutes of meeting her, and spends the rest of the semester getting to know her

(last updated December 2020) Sojourn: AU comprised of one shots after TRR Book 2 events, where Trina accepted Liam’s proposal on the condition that she goes to law school before they marry. Drake becomes her roommate/extension of the Kings Guard for protection while he also finishes his degree. Chaos sometimes ensues; precursor to You Are the Reason

(last updated April 2019) You Are the Reason: series occurs after Sojourn, where recent graduates Trina and Drake officially return to Cordonia. However, unknown forces try to keep Trina from marrying Liam. Some parts of TRR Book 3 will be included

(TBD 2021) Untitled Summer Love/Wacky Drabbles series: AU where Cordonia doesn’t exist/no one has noble titles. Liam and Drake take a long overdue summer vacation, where they meet an interesting pair of ladies, under odd circumstances. Will there be more than one summertime spark?

FYI I don't post anything on a schedule 🙈also tags max out in a post so I'll reblog in a minute. Thanks for reading this mess, and reading in general 💙

Permatag All Stories: @ao719 @blackcatkita @debramcg1106 @neotericthemis @ofpixelsandscribbles @smalltalk88 @the-soot-sprite

BLADES: @choicesarehard @princess-geek @saivilo @storyofmychoices @walkerswhiskeygirl

MOTY: @justbeingmyself21 @pirateofprose /princess-geek /saivilo @siegrrun

ROD: @burnsoslow /choicesarehard /pirateofprose

TRR/TRH: @aestheticartsx @bbrandy2002 /burnsoslow @choiceskatie @darley1101 @dcbbw @gardeningourmet @iplaydrake @kingliam2019 @liamxs-world @rainbowsinthestorm @riseandshinelittleblossom @superharriet @texaskitten30 @theroyalheirshadowhunter

melee tag for anyone that was tagged for a ROD or TRR series but I have too many to post lists one by one so you need to check off what you wanna read *points to snapshot descriptions above*: @alexpottrechoices @blznbaby @brightpinkpeppercorn @choices97 @clairexoxo100 @client-327 @cocomaxley @cordonianroyalty @cordonian-literature @everythingchoices @forallthatitsworth @gibbles82 @gkittylove99 @gnatbrain @h3llostrang3r @hustacks

[skippyv20]

Doria’s company: Loving Kindness Senior Care Management, Inc.

Hi Skippy!  One last post on this; I did a bit more research. Doria’s company Loving Kindness Senior Care Management, Inc. (LKSCM) is a company that seems to exist only on paper.  Yes, LKSCM also has a website, but that website consists of only one “page” and, most likely, if you tried to schedule an appointment, consultation or register your loved elderly, you would most likely be told that LKSCM is not accepting new clients at this time (even for in-home care).  LKSCM probably cannot, because there is no such company (other than on paper).  The business address of 9665 Wilshire Blvd., 5th Floor, Beverly Hills, CA 90212 is the address of MM’s attorney Richard (Rick) Genow and his law firm of Stone, Genow, Smelkinson, Binder & Christopher, LLP (of which he is a name partner).  Rick Genow is on LKSCM’s documents on the California Secretary of State (SOS) website as agent for service of process.  Cathy Pham, the other name on LKSCM’s documents, is a contracts administrator at Rick Genow’s law firm.  Note: Rick Genow (MM’s Attorney) and Andrew Meyer (Business Manager) attended the Harry/MM wedding.  Andrew Meyer was agent for service of process on MM’s Frim Fram company documents. 

Of interest is the fact that Doria’s company Loving Kindness Senior Care Management, Inc. (LKSCM) is *not* registered with the US Patent and Trademark Office (USPTO).  Which is the first step after you name your business — you would register your business name with the USPTO.  At least you would if you were serious about starting up and running your business as a “real-life” working company.  You wouldn’t put up a website, etc. and then learn that your chosen business name was not available for you to trademark.  

That brings us to an existing company also in the field of elderly/senior care in the US (Philadelphia) called LOVING KINDNESS HEALTHCARE SYSTEMS, LLC (LKHS) (USPTO Application/Serial No. 76/703,512).  Because LOVING KINDNESS HEALTHCARE SYSTEMS, LLC has been using that name in commerce since 2010, the USPTO most likely would not grant Doria’s company name, at all, because Doria’s company name — to use one of the USPTO’s favorite phrases — “is confusingly similar,” and in the same field of business as LKHS!   As recently as Sept. 2020, LKHS was granted a 10-year renewal by the USPTO.  And a review of the documents on LKHS’ USPTO documents page shows no opposition from anyone as having applied for a [similar] trademark name (e.g., Doria’s company LKSCM).  And that says a lot.

Attached is a Statement and Designation by Foreign Corporation filed for Doria’s company.  Doria’s title is “President.”

Takeaway:  Right now it seems that Doria’s company Loving Kindness Senior Care Management, Inc. is simply a shell corporation, set up and maintained by MM’s attorneys.

A shell corporation is a company or corporation that exists only on paper and has no office and no employees, but may have a bank account or may hold passive investments or be the registered owner of assets, such as intellectual property, or ships. [wiki]

Acronyms used above:

LKSCM = Doria’s company Loving Kindness Senior Care Management, Inc.

SOS = California Secretary of State website used to search business names

USPTO = US Patent and Trademark Office

LKHS = An already existing Philadelphia, USA company in the field of elderly/senior care since 2010 named LOVING KINDNESS HEALTHCARE SYSTEMS, LLC and fully registered with the USPTO — renewed in Sept. 2020 for 10 more years

“Connections” in the attached photo:  Rick Genow and Andrew Meyer (right) with Kamala Harris’ husband Douglas Emhoff (left) and Patricia Wheeler (center, left) at The Hollywood Reporter’s (THR) Power Lawyer’s Breakfast on March 28, 2019.

Wow!  Thank you so much!  Very interesting stuff….and there is the connection….Kamala Harris’ husband….wow!❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

3/05/21

Your name was there..but your post came in anonymous...so I deleted your name...let me know if you want your name added in ok?

[m34gs]

WIP Meme + Tag game!

List the titles/filenames/descriptions of your WIPs and tell us a little bit about them/wail about them/beg for inspiration/whatever you want! Then tag some people for a no-obligation mutual wailing/cheering/complaining session!

Thank you for the tag, @kimium! I started a separate post because I was worried this would get a bit long, hope that is ok!

Let's start this off with the Big One:

Bar AU:

Akudama Drive - Brawler has a flowchart: this is the part of Bar AU pertaining to Akudama Drive specifically and, as it states, Brawler has a flowchart. Where? In his mind. For what? To determine What Would Swindler Do when faced with a morally or socially challenging new situation. There are other fun parts such as Big Brothers Hacker and Courier, Offerings to Swindler For Managing Cutthroat, Hoodlum and Brawler are Married, and more!

Bleach Crack-fic dating au - Poor Ichigo is being courted by the entirety of the soul society, a hollow, and a few humans. Also Grimmjow is the Best Painter of the Nails.

Blue Exorcist: Rin stop being shocked ghosts exist you are the literal son of satan - Rin is surprised by all the ghosts/supernatural beings in the other universes connected to the bar. Bon is Tired. Shura must never meet Gojo from JJK.

Bungou Stray Dogs: Lovecraft is Trying- Lovecraft just wants to be a good husband. Atsushi did NOT agree to be adopted by Chuuya and Dazai. Chuuya and Gojo from JJK must Never Meet.

Death Note: L and Light are married now - L and Light are a couple. Near, Mello, and Matt are together. Sayu wins L's compliance in embarassing Light by learning to make L the Best Strawberry Short Cake Ever. Watari is Immortal and Ryuk enjoy's Rin's apple pie.

Dr. Stone: Byakuya is Alive - Exactly as it sounds. Byakuya is alive. And he is married to Xeno and Stanley. Senku is oblivious and Gen is Tired.

Fire Force Found Family AU - company 8 keeps ending up with new members of their Found Family. Benimaru and Konro will go after anyone who mistreats the tea. Joker and Licht are married and they didn't have a huge ceremony which according to Maki is A Crisis.

JJK Gojo needs to stop drinking - Gojo winds up at the wrong Bar when he is too drunk. That is what started the Bar AU. Megumi has to sort out his crushes on Sukuna and Itadori. Kugasaki is badass af. Nanami and Geto need to be a bit better when it comes to comforting their husband.

The Adventures of the League of Dads - Dadzawa, Dad Mic, Dad Might, Dadgum, Vlad Dad, Best Dad, and more. Also, who is Dad Magnet?????

And Now Back to Our Regularly Scheduled Programming... ACTUALLY let's talk about some ideas I have yet to really mention; things I have plans for but haven't fully started the writing process of. After all, I can only babble about the things I have already started posting so much before even I would need a break from hearing about them. So. Here we go:

Bokuaka Beauty and the Beast AU: It's pretty simple: Beauty and the Beast plotline with Bokuto as the Beast and Akaashi as the Beauty. Perfectly Simple. A young prince, cursed to live as a demonic entity after breaking the heart of a witch, and the young man, sent by his village to desperately try to explain to the Prince that their offerings to buy his protection were stolen when they were pillaged by bandits, end up stuck in the near-abandoned castle together due to Horrible Weather. Wonder what could possibly happen. 👀

Chaos and Purity: an original work. Two deities fall in love. One is the representation of all things Pure (not "soft" or "uwu", pure as in unmixed, as in absolute. Pure gold, pure silver, pure love, pure hatred, pure malice, etc.) and One is the representation of all things Chaotic. They have seven daughters. Their family is torn apart and set against each other by spiteful and jealous people.

I think I will end it there, at the risk of this post becoming incredibly long and boring, lol. I do have many more, but if I listed them all I feel everyone would run away ahahaha. If anyone wants to know more about any of the above or just wants to chat about them, feel free to ask about it! Inbox is always open :D

Tagging: @collisiondiscourse, @sailormew4, @sithfyremonarch, @kuroosden, and @backwardshirt

No pressure, but feel free to participate!

[mittensmorgul]

I'm relatively new to fandom and destiel, and I had a question you might know the answer to. I noticed there are these organized fanfic (and fanart?) projects. The ones I've seen are Pinefest and Big Bang. What are these exactly? Do you just sign up and write a fic, and it gets featured as part of this project? Are there any others besides those two? And is there a way to see a list of all the past fics that have been written as part of these projects? So sorry to bother you, I'm just trying to figure it all out. Thank you for any help

Hi there, and welcome to the fandom! We’ve got barrels of fests and challenges, and I’m happy to give a little explainer of a few of the different varieties and how they work. :)

I’m putting this under a cut, because even though I assembled it mostly off the top of my head while being distracted by like nine other things, and it’s in no way a complete and detailed accounting of all challenges and fests in the fandom, it still got kinda long... I know I have other posts on this subject in my writing challenges tag, where I reblog challenge info.

The biggest challenge in the fandom (based on participation, history, etc.) is probably the Dean/Cas Big Bang (known as the dcbb). This is the sort of challenge where writers and authors sign up (traditionally in April for this challenge), authors write stories with a minimum wordcount (in the case of dcbb, it’s 20k words), and then artists “claim” stories to make art for (usually in August for this challenge). Then the resulting author/artist teams work together and post on their scheduled posting date (for dcbb, usually October/November).

There are a number of other challenges that roughly use this model, including the Pinefest (which, disclosure, I’m the assistant mod for, so if you have questions specifically about pinefest, I’m happy to help!). Some others have a more defined theme, such as the horror big bang, etc., or have different minimum wordcounts (some as low as 3k!). But they generally run along a similar format with a definitive time frame with deadlines and participation requirements.

There’s also Reverse Bangs, the biggest of which is probably the sibling challenge to the dcbb, the dcrb. For those, artists make art and it’s the writers who claim pieces to write about, but the rest of the process runs on a similar premise with deadlines for each step of the process that all participants have to meet.

Challenges often have discord servers where participants can chat, work through story ideas, find beta readers, ask questions, etc. It’s a great way to find a community within the fandom!

Speaking of discord servers, there’s a number of destiel creative community groups there, such as the @profoundnet and @writersofdestiel. These are not only great places to find a community of writers/artists, but they both also run various challenges and fests that you can learn about there, in addition to having channels dedicated to the announcement of writing/art challenges. They’re great places to learn more about how all of these work, and to find out which challenges are currently open.

So outside of the bigger challenge format I described above, there’s also fests such as prompt fests where someone will post a prompt list and creators can make things based on those prompts. They usually have looser rules than organized challenges, for authors or artists to participate in as they feel moved to. There’s also bingo challenges where participants will be issued a bingo-style card with various tropes and prompts with the goal of completing a “bingo” by using those elements in a work.

And then there’s some monthly themed challenges with their own sets of rules. Again, the easiest way to find these is just to look out for them either on tumblr or via one of the discord servers i mentioned above. I try to reblog relevant ones when I see them to let folks know they exist.

There’s a few other seasonal challenges, such as @winchester-reload’s suptober/inktober art prompt list, various advent calendar/holiday themed exchanges in december, typically a “sweetheart” exchange in February, etc. 

But in general, if you see a challenge you think you might be interested in, the best thing to do is check it out directly. They all have different rules and requirements for participation, but in general most of the larger organized challenges have set deadlines for registration and participation. :)

(and for some reason tumblr isn’t letting me add tags in the inbox today, which is super annoying lol)

[chamomileteainabuttercup]

Dincobb Week Day 3 - New Experiences (SFW)

Welcome to my Dincobb Week fanfic posts! I've written stories and scenes of varying lengths and tones. For clarity I should say that most of these exist as miniature AUs of their own and have no continuity with each other or with anything else I've written about these characters, so in different pieces they may be described having different physical features, personal possessions, preferences, et cetera. (There are three exceptions which I'll note as such when they come out.) Thanks to @djarining, who helped me a lot with brainstorming and discussing my ideas!

For today I have two pieces, an SFW and an NSFW - the NSFW is scheduled to post an hour after this one.

New Experiences

Cobb keeps on saying he’s been cold before, it gets bitter cold out in the desert at night, and Din has kept on telling him that yes, that’s cold, but it’s not ice and snow cold, and if he’s going to take him on a trip he needs Cobb to trust him about the appropriate clothing.

He does need thermals, he does need thick wool socks, he does need a heavy parka, wool cap and mittens.

“What about you?” Cobb asks. “You may be wearing thermals under your suit, but I don’t see a parka.”

“I’m used to making do without one,” says Din, “but I have higher standards for you.”

“Have ‘em for yourself too, then.”

“All right then. I will.”

“Just see that you do.”

“You’re not the boss of me,” Din says, smiling inside his helmet.

“I’m the boss of everyone, they just don’t know it yet,” says Cobb with a cocky grin.

Boss or not, he’s got Din to wear a parka over his beskar, which he doesn’t altogether like to do. The shiny breastplate is for show as well as for function. A symbolic declaration of identity and values. Well, everyone can still see the helmet, and he compromised on cutting off the parka sleeves just above the elbow so his vambraces are free and functional. This is meant to be a pleasure trip, just to show Cobb a different world as a treat, but he’s still not about to go anywhere without ready access to his grappling hook, flamethrower and whistling birds. Safety first.

He lands the small ship he’s borrowed from Boba on a small, flat-topped hill overlooking a frozen lake, its edges frosted white and its heart a turquoise blue. In fact, if you’re generous with your aesthetics, the lake is sort of heart-shaped. He wonders if Cobb will notice and appreciate that. They lower the landing ramp and step outside into a brilliantly sunny day. The air out here is so cold and crisp it stings your face. Cobb actually gasps. Din gives him a few moments to walk to the bottom of the ramp, then slowly, carefully, extend one foot and put it down and feel the crunch and squish of the snow under his boot.

“What do you think?” he asks.

“It’s weird!” says Cobb enthusiastically. He sees his own breath condensing on the air and huffs out another cloud of warm mist. Then, “Ow.” He puts his mittened hand to his ear.

“You forgot to take out your earring?” Din asks.

“I was excited to see the snow,” Cobb says sheepishly. “And I love it. You gave it to me.” It’s the beskar dart tip from a whistling bird and Cobb is almost comically proud of how it looks glinting in his earlobe.

“Well, it’s gonna get real cold and I don’t want you to get frostbite. Hold still,” Din says. He pulls off his gloves, gives them to Cobb to hold and carefully removes the already chilly earring. He pulls up one of the hook-and-loop flaps of Cobb’s parka pockets, tucks the earring firmly down inside, presses it closed, then pulls Cobb’s wool cap down to cover his ears properly. “There.”

“This hat is crushing my hair,” Cobb grumps.

“A Mandalorian helmet couldn’t unpretty your hair, but you think a toque will?” Din asks, pulling his gloves back on.

“Aw, Mando, you think I’m pretty?” Cobb beams at him, more radiant than the sunshine on the snow crust.

“C’mon,” Din says, embarrassed. He does think Cobb is pretty but he has too little experience of romance to be able to say it smoothly. He grabs Cobb’s hand and pulls him along, heading down the slope towards the lake. Cobb slips and flounders and laughs. He starts to lurch forward, catches himself and throws himself backward, landing on his butt and then flopping on his back with his arms outstretched. “Come on,” says Din, with a chuckle. He reaches down and pulls Cobb up to his feet, leaving his outline in the snow.

“Hey, look at that!” says Cobb, twisting to look back. “It really takes a print, doesn’t it? Not like dry sand at all. It’s so crazy that this is water.” He scoops up a mittenful and crumbles it around.

“Try squeezing it,” says Din. Cobb squashes the snow between his palms. “See how it compacts? It’ll hold together.” He’s remembering the short period his first covert spent living someplace very like this, a little compound in the snowy woods. Unlike most covert locations, it offered both secrecy and open space for children to run and play. The snow forts they built and the snowball battles they fought were both educational for warriors in the making and tremendous fun for a motley assortment of kids in hand-me-down winter clothes and soft training helmets. The snow was the first thing that brought him out of his shell to play with the others. Up to then he had been his foster father’s shadow, dumb with sorrow, until finally the sight of them running, shouting, flinging snow had sparked his attention.

Buir had seen where he was looking as Din stood beside him holding tightly a fistful of his cape. He’d looked down at Din, his helmet impassive, nothing like his lost parents’ dark, expressive eyes and smiling, talking mouths. But there was something kind in the tilt of his head, and he gently jerked it in the direction of the romping foundlings. Buir barely spoke because his larynx had been crushed in a fight years before. Rather than speaking through the mic in his helmet, he would hold a little electrolarynx device to his throat when he really needed to speak aloud, but more often than not he used a modified sign language, finding it more convenient. That was what he told Din back then, but thinking on it now, he’s fairly sure Buir switched to relying on signing because the electrolarynx made him sound a lot like a droid, and he saw how uncomfortable that made the child he’d picked up. He didn’t need to say “Go on”; Din understood, and after hesitating a moment longer, he released his grip on the crumpled fabric and ventured out to play.

That was the day he learned to make snowballs, and it’s something he can teach Cobb now, how to press and mould the snow between cupped palms, how to roll it down the slope, picking up more and more snow as it went, turning it between the two of them to keep its shape even and rounded. It makes them both laugh just out of happiness and satisfaction. Cobb’s cheeks and nose are flushed a sweet rosy pink. His eyes are bright, their hazel colour almost gold where the sharp sunlight catches it, and he’s altogether so lovely a sight that Din is glad his face is hidden and he can stare as openly and foolishly as he wants.

Together they build a snowman where the ground flattens out; he gets an idea and labours back up the hill in the sliding snow into the ship’s hold and brings back a bucket to mould its head into a snow Mandalorian. After that success they make their way down to the lake, and after Din checks how solid the ice is, they venture out on its surface, skidding around a little. Cobb keeps grabbing hold of his hand, and although it actually makes both of them a bit less stable, Din’s happy to let him. When Din asks, “You want to try sliding?” he’s immediately game. They run and slide on foot, on knees, and on a few accidental occasions on their asses until they’re out of breath and glowing with warmth. It occurs to Din that apart from a little light Grogu-entertaining, he hasn’t really played in years. He still knows how, though. Panting and laughing, they stagger off the ice and begin making their way back up the hill, wallowing in the knee-deep snow, helping each other up by reaching down from above or by pushing from below (hands on butts). At the top they look back at their chaotic trail across the formerly perfect snowscape.

“What do you think of it now?” Din asks.

“It’s fantastic,” says Cobb. “I couldn’t have imagined what it’s really like. And there’s no one I’d rather be here with than you.” He throws his arms around Din and, to his surprise, kisses him smack-dab on the cheek of his helmet. He can’t feel it, of course, but he enjoys it symbolically, at least for a few moments until it becomes clear that Cobb’s lips are stuck to the frosty metal. He tries to pull away, gives a little muffled cry of panic and pain, and stares helplessly through the eyeslot of Din’s visor. “Hnnh!”

“Dank farrik — it’s okay, hold still. Just — okay, put your hands on the helmet, hold it, take the weight. Got it? Don’t let go or it’ll peel your lips.” He steadies it with his hands too and brings his head and shoulders down, pulling his head out of the helmet. He’s dazzled by the unfiltered bright light for a moment, then gets a proper look at Cobb, scarlet-faced and glaring with anger, confusion and embarrassment, still smooching the helmet. He has to bite his own lip hard not to laugh, but it’s not really funny, he doesn’t want Cobb to get frostbite or tear the skin off his lips. “Stay there,” he says, turns and runs up the ramp into the ship. In the tiny, cramped galley he draws a cup of lukewarm water from the tap, then rushes back, trying not to spill it. “Okay. It’s okay, just hold very still for me, got it?” Carefully, he pours water over the join between lip and metal, while Cobb breathes loud and fast through his nose. After a few moments the icy seal breaks and Cobb is able to gently, carefully peel his lips away from the helmet. They’re very red and they look like they’re sore and stinging. “You don’t look like you’re bleeding anywhere,” Din says hopefully.

Cobb cautiously runs his tongue-tip over his lips and winces. “No, but they feel raw,” he says. “Goddamn that was cold!”

“I think you’ll survive,” Din says.

“Well, sure, I’ll survive,” says Cobb. “But could you kiss ‘em better?”

It seems only fair.

[sweethq]

♡ how you became friends with them // headcanon

𑁍 Characters: Oikawa Tōru, Kuroo Tetsurō, Akaashi Keiji, Sugawara Kōshi

»»—Trigger warning(s): none—-««

➶ Genre: hmmm fluff?

-ˏˋ A/N: i’m an absolute hoe for all of them, I just had to put them in the same post ˊˎ-

Click here for part 1!

your nephew’s friends were going to the park to play volleyball and he wouldn’t stop begging you to take him

both of his parents were at work, forcing you to keep an eye on the little booger

all you wanted to do was stay home and watch terrible reality shows

but you decided to be nice and grant him his wish

besides, it would be nice to leave the house every once and awhile lol

when you got to the park you saw your nephew’s friends playing volleyball with a guy who was definitely not their age

“do you know that guy?” you ask the young one standing next to you, hoping that the older boy in the distance wasn’t some creep that was preying on children

“yeah, that’s _____’s uncle. he’s really good at volleyball so he likes to come and show off”

what kind of grown ass man would want to show off his skills to a bunch of 9 year olds lmao

you didn’t question it any further and took a seat on a nearby bench while your nephew ran to his friends

after about two minutes of scrolling through your phone, your nephew returns

“tooru wants you to come play volleyball with us”

“did you tell him that i don’t know anything about volleyball?”

“yup. come on, let’s go”

deadass pulls your phone out of your hand, grabs your arm, and drags you over to the group

he was freakishly strong for his age

“hi! i’m tooru, what’s your name?”

“uh, i’m y/n”

“cool! do you want to play volleyball with us?”

“do i have a choice?”

“nope!”

he quickly goes over the gist of the game and shows you how to position your arms for a receive and how to spike the ball

honestly most of it went through one ear and out the other, but you nodded as if you understood everything he was saying

you finally started the mock match, you and tooru on opposing sides

first play into the game, tooru serves it (at like 30% power from his usual serves) and it’s coming straight for you

instead of taking a step backwards so you can receive it, you just stare at it until it hits you dead in the face hAAA

all of the kids started laughing while tooru stood there in shock

who would’ve known this would be the start to an amazing friendship

we all know, math is FREAKING HARD

and the fact that you had to learn about imaginary numbers irked the hell out of you

they don’t even exist, WHY DO I NEED TO KNOW THIS

but that’s just the way the cookie crumbles and there’s absolutely nothing you can do about it

your teacher could see you visibly struggling with this lesson, even seeing that you nearly failed one of your quizzes

she pulled you to the side after class one day and told it to you straight

“if you don’t get a B on this next test, you’re going to have to retake this class”

“y-you expect me to get a B?!!!?!?!?!?”

yeah the rest of the day you were depressed lol

how in the world were you supposed to magically understand all of the material within the next week?

that’s where smartboi!kuroo comes along

he approaches you during lunch, taking the empty seat in front of you

you just kinda 👁️👄👁️

“hi so i couldn’t help but overhear your conversation with our math teacher. i can help you if you want. i don’t know if you know this, but i’m kinda good at math”

he gave you one of his infamous smirks, making you scoff

you had never talked to kuroo before, but he had a reputation around school for being arrogant and cold

“please tell me why i would want help from you?”

“because if you don’t get help then you’re probably going to fail this class and have to retake it, and we both know that’s not what you want.”

you hate that he’s right

“ugh fine”

over the course of that week you and kuroo hung out every day after school

and you found out that he’s nothing like what people say he is, he’s just a big nerd

you start to become fond of him, liking how patient he is with you and how much effort he’s putting into your tutoring sessions

by the end of the week, you’re actually able to call him a friend

and you got a B on the test :p

you were not a morning person

you were the type or person that needed to set 50 alarms in the morning just so you’d wake up for school

unfortunately, sometimes 50 alarms still isn’t enough to keep you from falling back asleep

one morning, you closed your eyes after turning off your alarm, knowing that another one will go off in 10 minutes. I’ll get up then, you tell yourself

what you didn’t know is that the alarm you turned off happened to be the last one

you wandered back to sleep and waited for the alarm that never went off

when you woke up, you checked your phone and saw that you were most definitely running late

you quite literally jumped out of bed and threw on your uniform and shoes before grabbing your backpack and running out the door

you didn’t even bother grabbing something to eat or checking the weather, two things you usually did every morning

you sprinted towards the bus stop, hoping that you didn’t just miss it and have to wait for another

but of course, as you’re approaching, you see the bus depart

and, to make matters even better, it was starting to rain

you made your way to the bus stop, standing under the small roof for shelter from the rain, staring at the bus that was slowly getting smaller

you sigh loudly while taking out your phone, finding the bus schedule only to see that the next one won’t be coming for another 20 minutes

school starts in 15, which is around the same time it would take to run there

but at this point, it wasn’t just raining, it was absolutely downpouring. but what choice did you have?

you prepared yourself to ruin into the rain, but before you could leave the shelter of the roof above you, a cold hand grabbed onto your wrist

you turned around to see sugawara, a boy who was in your third period class

he reached into his backpack and pulled out an umbrella before handing it to you

“here, use this. if you run to school in this weather, you might catch a cold”

“no, that’s okay. if i take this, then you might catch a cold. plus, it’s your umbrella, you should use it”

he laughed before grabbing your hand and placing the umbrella in it

before you could protest, he pulled his hood over his head and ran into the rain

you were dumbfounded, but decided not to waste any more time and make your way to school

you returned his umbrella to him when you saw him in class, and bought him lunch as a thank you

found out that you guys live in the same direction, and decided to walk to and from school together

now you don’t need 50 alarm clocks, knowing that suga will beat ur ass if you’re not ready to leave by the time he gets to your house lol

it was the week before finals, so you were doing the same thing that most students were doing

pulling all nighters at the library and drinking way too much coffee

it was approximately 2:30 in the morning when you were approaching the last class you needed to study for

the problem was, you had left your textbook for that class at home (freaking idiot)

thankfully for you, the library had one in stock that you could borrow for free

you wandered around the building that was surprisingly empty

on most days, every seat would be filled regardless of the time, everyone wanting to cram as much knowledge into their heads before their big exams

you finally found the section you were looking for and started scouting the bookshelves for the textbook you desired

after a solid 10 minutes of grazing through hundreds of books, your eyes finally fall onto the one you’ve been looking for

the only problem was

it was on the top shelf

and you were definitely not tall enough to reach it

but were you going to ask someone to help you get the book like a normal person?

of course not

no, the only logical answer to this problem would to be to climb the bookcase and use the tips of your finger to hopefully bring the book into your grasp

so that’s what you did,,,, kinda

the book was just out of your reach, so you started to swat at it like a cat, hoping the momentum would make your reach a tad longer

and it did!

but instead of you grabbing the book, your arm decided to fling it off the shelf

and right onto the head of a pretty boy who happened to be standing right beneath you

“oh my god are you oka-” *falls off the bookcase*

you were surprisingly able to land on your feet, but you twisted your ankle in the process

“are you okay?” akaashi asked, seeing the pain flash in your eyes

“I should be asking you that, i just dropped my book on your head :(“

akaashi was definitely not planning on spending his friday night in a nurses office with some clumsy person that drops books on people’s heads

and he definitely didn’t appreciate having to be checked for a concussion when he could be using this valuable time for studying

but when he was given the all clear and your ankle was wrapped, you offered him your last onigiri as a peace offering

instantly forgets about the whole incident and becomes a happy puppy

you find out that you guys are studying for the same class so decide to combine your brains and study together

study buddies 4 life!

[taglist] — @avylee

📥 click here to fill out the taglist form

[neighbourskid]

Dave? Dave.

It's been quite a bit since I've written anything here, huh? Well, I guess as it has been for pretty much everyone, life has been kinda strange for a while now. Despite vaccine roll-outs and continually changing safety regulations, there's still a global pandemic on, and everyone is trying to navigate this reality the best they can. For once, we are all, generally speaking, in the same boat now (sure, there are huge differences between countries because capitalism fucking sucks and rich greedy humans are once again proof that things need to change asap, but overall, we all have to deal with this pandemic).

But I don't actually want to talk about the pandemic, it just exists as a frame of what I do wanna talk about.

As I have mentioned before, when the pandemic hit, I was in the last semester of my undergrad studies and writing my Bachelor thesis. Or that's what I was supposed to do, anyway. I did do a lot of reading for it, early in the first lockdown after university closed and we were all attending from home. I was lucky, I had no classes, I only had like three scheduled meetings to check in on progress of the thesis, but otherwise I was free of zoom calls and attempting to attend university digitally. So I read.

After a while, reading became taking a book with me into the sun, glancing at one or two pages, and then just napping for most of the day, and spending my evenings either playing video games or watching some tv show or movie. At some point, I felt like now was the perfect time to rewatch all fifteen seasons of CRIMINAL MINDS, so I did that, instead of writing my thesis. I still occasionally read, but most of the days I just felt exhausted and unmotivated so I stayed in bed and binged my crime show.

As the deadline for the thesis started approaching, and the time I had left fell under a month, a switch in my brain seemed to be activated and, oh, hello, suddenly there was a certain drive there for that thesis again. Which lasted exactly until an email from university dinged into my inbox a few days later, informing me that I would get another month for my thesis, due to the pandemic. And away that motivation and drive went, immediately.

Not much later I had a session with the therapist I was seeing at the time, because of the hormone treatment I had started early that same year. I had talked to him about my concern that I might have ADHD before because I didn't feel like there was anything we needed to talk about related to my transition, so I brought it up again here. I told him how my thesis was going -- or rather, how it wasn't going at all -- and finally, as I told him about some of the issues I experienced while trying to do work for it, he acknowledged that I may indeed have some attention regulation issues. He prescribed me medication to try out, and -- wonder oh wonder -- suddenly I was writing my thesis. I ended up finishing it on time (even though a week before I had a moment of "all of this is garbage, I will never pass, I should start the whole thing from scratch") and got a decent grade for it, too. I've been on those meds since.

Over the last, I don't know how many years, I've always known that there was something a bit wonky about my brain. There were always these things that seemed to come so easy to other people, and try as I might, I just couldn't make them happen. I, presumably, had a lot of neurotypical friends. I also have friends with depression, BPD, anxiety disorders and other neurodivergencies. I have family members with autism. I know my mom suspected I might be on that spectrum as well.

Reading up on many of those things I never felt like any of them described what I was experiencing. There were certain traits, sure, but mostly there was a lack of what I actually did experience in most of them. Even ADHD, when reading about the "required" issues and traits, doing those self-diagnosing questionnaires, I just never saw what I felt represented. And then I started reading about what people with diagnosed ADHD had to say about how they experience things. I ignored the more medical or clinical information, and just looked for people talking about how they navigate their lives with ADHD. And then all of a sudden it was, oh, yeah this, this is relatable. This is where my brain's at.

Suddenly it made sense that caffeine didn't do nothing for me, that a nice, warm cup of coffee put me right to sleep. It made sense how, after only a month, suddenly a well beloved hobby or tv show was suddenly of no interest whatsoever. Staring at the wall for three hours instead of doing a simple task. Drawing in class so that I could pay attention to what is being said. The inability to remember much of my life before 6th grade. Having to bounce my leg so I could read a simple text. Needing to visually break a book down into chapters with colourful post-its to keep me from being overwhelmed by the length of the book. And so many other things. Suddenly, there was a reason for that.

I've always liked doing personality quizzes. Or doing stuff related to my zodiac sign even if I don't believe in astrology per se. Finding out what my Enneagram number is. Or my Myers-Briggs type. Not because I think those things define me or describe me to a T, but because they give me a vocabulary. They give me options. I love answering a bunch of questions and then getting a wall of text telling me This Is Who You Are and then I get to pick out what is accurate and what isn't. It gives me words to describe who I am that I didn't have before.

And it is the same thing with posts or videos of people with ADHD. It gives me a vocabulary for the things I experience and it lets me express those things in a way I wasn't able to before. Before, I was like, doing things that my brain doesn't want to do, feels like running headfirst into a wall because there is no way above, around, or underneath it. There is no door, no ladder, no tunnel, no nothing. There is only running headfirst into it until maybe, hopefully, it cracks. Preferably before my head does. But that is exhausting and most of the time, I prefer to not get through the wall at all, if what it takes is going headfirst through it. Now, I know that what that is, is a dopamine deficiency. The task that needs doing, the task that this wall is, doesn't give my brain enough dopamine. There is no satisfaction, there is nothing to gain from that task, so the brain isn't interested.

One of the things that I recently discovered and helps me a lot in this quest of figuring out how my brain works, is this guy Connor on tiktok, who also has ADHD. His videos are both hilarious and informative. And also incredibly relatable. They might be silly haha funny videos on the dear old internet, but I walk away from most of them going, oh! oh that makes sense, good to know.

He occasionally talks about how ADHD is completely misnamed and how Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder does not actually accurately describe what exactly people with ADHD lack. In one of his videos, he calls it DAVE instead. It's silly, and sounds a bit dumb, but I kinda like it. Dave. Dopamine Attention Variability Executive-Disfunction. Dave. I like Dave.

Y'know, I don't mind having ADHD. Presumably, I've lived with it my whole life so far. And it's annoying as shit some of the time. Especially when things need to get done and they just won't. But I don't mind that, especially now that I know that this is what it is. I've always feared that if I finally do go to a therapist and try to figure out what my brain is up to, they'll just tell me that I'm fine and there's nothing to worry about. And at first, my therapist did say I was psychologically unremarkable. But I guess if you've lived like this your whole life and nobody has really picked up on it, even a therapist doesn't notice (it's called masking, I've learned, thanks Connor).

But knowing is good. Knowing means I can learn things that help. I can take medication when needed. And, looking at the grades I'm currently getting in my graduate studies? Hells yeah, taking that medication and knowing how to deal with certain aspects of my brain helps a lot. It is incredibly funny to me that the best grades I have gotten in my entire academic career have been achieved in my Master's studies during a global pandemic. There is currently an actual real possibility that I may graduate summa cum laude. In my MA. That is insane!

Anyway, I am avoiding tasks by writing this right now. Oh, the irony. I'm gonna try and do those tasks now. Y'all take care. Cheers!

[juuls]

Pharmacist/Me = 1 🏆 Doctor/Nursing Staff = 0

Thank you in advance for reading this rant. I’ve been really frustrated and just needed to get this off my chest, and today at least I had a wonderful knight in a white lab coat. 🩺❤️‍🩹🥽🥼💪🏻

Content warnings and squicky squicks: (further down there is) an image of a medical vial with a clipped image of a more benign part of a syringe, health conditions (endometriosis, fibromyalgia), menstrual cycles and associated terms such as bleeding and other things, lack of empathy in my specific healthcare system, hysterectomies, pain, swearing and losing patience. Most important warning: self-administered syringes and injection discussions of legal medications (Depo-Provera) approved of by professionals and properly researched. P.S. this may sound rather Karen-like but I would never do this to someone’s face. Online ranting and acknowledging where I could do better is not the same as screaming in public for bossy requests or comps, etc. Ew.

Another ‘warning’… pharmacists being kick-ass allies and giving a damn about their patients.

I’m really annoyed because (and I know healthcare and scheduling is a clusterfuck right now, but…) for over a month now I’ve been trying to get an appointment in person to get this injectable medication that is, yes, birth control, but is also used for endometriosis in my case. And I have severe endometriosis (exacerbated severely by fibromyalgia, siiiiigh) to the point I bleed enough and lose so much I have to go to the hospital when my care is not properly preventative… like in this case, and the pain is unbelievably severe also to the point I’ve spent time in the hospital, including my 11th Christmas Eve and Day. I started this injectable medication at 13 because it was the only thing that came close to helping reduce my endometrial tissue. Even a hysterectomy wouldn’t help as much, unless they decided to go the super invasive route and remove all the organs (or parts of them) that had become ‘infected’ by the tissue. Again, tissue where it’s not supposed to be, and it causes extreme pain as the tissue tries to flush out of my body each period, even if it’s attached to, like, my pancreas. Just no. That does not work at all. No. That is not fun.

SO. I’m 31, nearing 32, and the doctor’s office knows this. I’ve had the same doctor since I was 10. Been on this medication nearly non-stop for just shy of two decades (with appropriate precautions such as bone density tests) because of the absolute severity of the pain and my inability to function when it hits… which can be months at a time of non-stop bleeding and morning sickness-level nausea and vomiting, migraines and the occasional complete inability to move—in other words, it’s debilitating.

My doctor (even the nurses, as it’s in large print at the top of my file in the system) knows all about this. They’re supposed to call me if I’m overdue by a certain margin (I get they’re busy but months and months???). But my doc’s also a bit of an airhead (albeit a smart one when he focuses) and takes forever to reply to anything on time, even when it’s a severe issue, but not severe enough to go to the hospital. But it’s gotten to the point where the nurses say to go to the ER and then the ER nurses and doctors there get SUPER pissed off (AT ME AND SOMEHOW NOT AT MY DOCTOR/NURSES AND THEIR ORDERS) at the ‘waste of time’, and it’s just a clusterfuck.

Oh yeah, and that ER visit while I was overdue for my injection? Internal intestinal bleeding along with a lovely, even if small, perforation in my fucking uterus from the growth of endometrial tissue. I MEAN COME ON — WHAT IN THE HELL. Totally preventable if they fit me in when I called literally over a month ago.

But I will not change my doctor (the other docs at the practice know what is going on and have offered to take me on, but they don’t have the experience with myself and my conditions or the history, but they can do little else because of professional conduct—it’s between myself and my doc) because he is the only one who treats me with humanity and understands fibromyalgia, endometriosis, pre-MS and pre-RhA/PsA, endo-related IBS, (ulcerative) colitis, and other neurological conditions with any degree of empathy. (See, I told you I’m a mess!) There is no way I’m switching offices in the perpetual shortage of doctors in Canada moving elsewhere for m o n e y (plus Covid-19 being a teen hooligan and constantly coming back to wreck more goddamn shit, including everyone’s sanity, then setting things on fire like the real hooligans in my village have been doing this summer — I mean… what in the hell!?!?), so with all that in mind I actually thank my lucky stars. So I put up with a lot of this shit because he treats me, besides him being an airhead, like an actual human being deserving of compassion and care and quality of life despite my severe disabilities and pain. So.

I’m usually treated really well (even if they often think I’m a nuisance for daring to be severely chronically ill/in pain all the time) so I try to be patient and good and understanding when I can.

But his STAFF (I know they’re busy and I’ve been patient but they’ve been so awful honestly to the point I cried hard enough my dad noticed my red eyes and frustration-tear fracks on my face)! And the doc himself’s inability to reply to notes on time even when urgent and when he knows the circumstances (I admit I am a bit of a hard patient so I can understand if he just kinda ignores me sometimes, honestly). But in this case I was THREE DAMN MONTHS LATE for my injection and they’ve always called in the past when I was coming due if it looked like I hadn’t scheduled an injection, so that I was all on time and squared away and didn’t risk severe pain and damage to my already-fucked hormonal system (learning I couldn’t have kids was absolutely heartbreaking, let me tell you, but even a hysterectomy in that case would solve nothing — this is by far the easiest option, especially considering how my fibromyalgia would fuck with my post-surgery recovery and leave me with lasting pain for years if not decades; sigh).

Anyway. So. After some ridiculous levels of back and forth and some truly remarkable levels of lack of compassion (she kept giving me the exact same, word for word response in a bored tone UGH) considering the severe pain I was in (I was told, in front of OTHER PATIENTS AND STAFF, that I could just wait until I talk to the doctor myself at my next phone appointment and then schedule my injection for my next MONTHLY followup — 4.5 months overdue at that point, it would’ve been — because, and I quote, ‘am used to dealing with pain because of my fibromyalgia and years of dealing with it and other conditions’ which they named in front of others!!!!!!!! what. the. fuck. But I kept my cool because I know all these people, my mom taught their kids music, they’re a fixture of the community, etc. and I refuse to be a Karen…. At least externally.

But here comes the nice part that makes me love our new (okay, he’s been here like 5 years but still, in a small town that’s pretty new lmao) pharmacist that much more. Rasik was aware of my frustration with the doctor and nurses and was even the one who brought to my attention that, at the time, I was 2 months late for my injection and he was a bit concerned since he’s privy to how much pain I exist in without throwing in one or more knives directly into my womb, ovaries, tummy, hips, and other areas my endometrial tissue has taken root. He’s such a sweetheart and he really does care for his patients— the work he does with my father’s diabetes (the tricky one where you’re not obese) management is above and beyond the call of a pharmacist and I will forever be grateful for that alone, never mind how he cares for me.

So I went in today to pick up another medication, after yet another frustrating stop-over at the nurses’ desks, and he suggested I ask for my injectable medication (it’s Depo-Provera, by the way) and the syringe plus the two tips necessary — I’m actually familiar with this since I had to learn epinephrine injections from an early age (not Epipen) and how to give testosterone daily to my ex-husband (sorry not sorry, dude, but congrats on your first kid *grouchy thumbs up*). But yeah! Legally he’s not allowed to suggest I give it to myself, but he was getting super fed up with the nurses and doctors dragging their feet and ‘being assholes with little empathy’ in his own words, so I took the hint and requested my vial plus syringe, as well as the drawing and injection gauge needles…. which he gleefully filled for me, and I reiterated that it was ‘fully my idea, not yours, Rasik, because everyone knows I’m dumb and would never think it’s you if something happened’ (I’m not dumb and I’ve given injections to others many times looool).

Long story short: HERE’S TO PHARMACISTS AROUND THE WORLD, BEING AMAZING AND CARING FOR THEIR PATIENTS AND ‘BENDING BUT NOT REALLY BENDING’ THE RULES TO MAKE SURE THEIR CLIENTS ARE CARED FOR PROPERLY. They are amazing and deserve every last bit of your courtesy, especially when they pull double duty every. single. day. because of Covid and their subsequent boosters. (i.e. boosters in the form of humans who are fucking stupid if they have no medical reason not to get the vaccine… I mean JFC.)

Rasik? You are amazing and I am 100% going to find you some Indian-Canadian (or North Indian; I believe that’s where he’s from originally) treats or desserts or make some myself after slyly asking his assistant what he leans toward liking.

Be kind to one another, yeah, but… my goodness: be kind to those who can truly make a difference in your health, sanity, and even life or death.

Pharmacists, volunteers, and frontline health workers: the true heroes of these times.

Thank you so much. So very much.

💜💙🇨🇦👨🏽‍⚕️❤️‍🩹🙏🏻

P.S. … now I just gotta stab myself intramuscularly after making sure there’s no air bubbles and etc., and swap out to the proper gauge needle (different, smaller, to draw from the vial, larger to inject so that it goes in more quickly and, oddly enough, hurts less haha). I don’t think air bubbles are as much of an issue as when injecting intravenously (ummm I have a doctor uncle and grandma nurse and nurse friends, so shush 😆). But I’ve done this for others and animals so I should be good! :)

I’m a smart enough cookie even if I’ve lost a few nibble-size pieces around the edges. 😉😘 buahaha

Cheers to my pharmacist!!!! You are amazing and I can’t wait for the pain and months and months of bleeding to settle down.

Remind me again why humans are the only mammals (animals?) with monthly fluxes? UGH wtf ever. 🙃

[anangelicday-mrwolf]

Wolfsbane : Noblesse Fanfic (post-ending)

(previous chapter)

Chapter 68 – The Secret of Resurrection and the Outing

“Greetings to you, O Lord of the nobles. Pardon me, for I cannot rise from my respite.” 

“Have no concern. We are all aware of the state your body is suffering.” 

Lascrea raised her hand in a salute-reply to Lunark. 

When Rael learned from Seira that the werewolf who was as immobile as a corpse finally opened her eyes, he scurried back to the Lord's Hall, which he had emptied for less than 10 minutes, to share the news with Lascrea. 

Lunark also requested to the Central Knights stationed at the ward that she must speak to their lord, and their meeting was scheduled shortly afterwards. 

And they were not the only participants for today's meeting.

“I pray for your patience, although this room is not big enough to allow all of us. Our speaker must not leave her bed.”

“Have no concerns, my lord.” 

“We are alright.” 

Kei and Rosaria were standing next to Lascrea, rendering Lunark's room rather crowded. 

Her room may be the best that Lukedonia can offer, but it was designed for a single occupant. 

And the room felt even smaller because they also had virtual guests for this meeting. 

<May we begin?> 

Lunark flinched at Frankenstein's voice, transferred through Lascrea's phone that was switched to the speaker mode. 

No one would have missed it, yet no one pointed it out, for none of them paid attention to anything other than what Lunark was about to unleash.

“I believe all of you would know by now with what power I defeated the Dark Spear.” 

“We all happened to be shocked and perplexed. How did a werewolf like you got to wield power that was most certainly begotten by Raizel?” 

Everyone solemnly focused their sights and hearings upon Lunark.

Even she was still trying to wrap her head around what happened.

Upon accepting the mysterious power that offered its hand to her as she sunk deep into the sea, her abdomen punctured by the Dark Spear, Lunark realized the oh-so-familiar-for-some-reason power was none other than Raizel's power. 

As of now the power was rinsed off her like snow met with summer sun, but her psyche had been etched with memories that had connected to her during her carriage of the power. 

“This would be a long story, for I must start off from the Noblesse's disappearance into slumber 820 years ago.” 

The nobles surrounding Lunark implied fluster with their eyes. 

They knew discussion on Raizel is a must, considering that he is the source of the power Lunark made use of. 

However, they did not expect her to wind back at least six books on noble history, to land right onto Raizel's slumber that took place 820 years ago. 

“Noblesse, sir, you fell into sleep immediately following your duel against my lord, didn't you?” 

<...I did. I chose dormancy as I was stranded upon the oceanic spot not far from Lukedonia, and the zone of water and salt directly beneath became my sanctuary.> 

“Actually, I fell into the sea nearby after I was fallen as the result of my first showdown against the Dark Spear. Geologically speaking, it was near a human city called Miami, stationed in United States.” 

<Miami...? It happens to be one of the three vertices composing the Bermuda Triangle, at the center of which Lukedonia lies.> 

Lunark coerced her voice to activate, painstakingly shifting her attention away from the now-automated wince in her heart in reaction to Frankenstein's voice. 

“As you were recovering in the ocean for 820 years, your power was leaking from your coffin little by little. And after 8 centuries, the underwater domain centering on your ex-sanctuary came to absorb your power.” 

“What? You mean... Currently there is a submarine area not far from Lukedonia that holds power from Raizel?” 

“Correct. And that happens to be one of the three reasons why you, the Noblesse, and two of your heads of clans could return from death. During the nuclear missile incident, the three of you stood in defense of your homeland right above the Noblesse's ex-sanctuary. Which also served as the vessel of your remains from the clash. There the three of you absorbed the power of Noblesse teeming within, to rise back to life. Speaking of which, don't you feel there has been an increase of your power?” 

Silence heavily dawned upon the chamber as Lunark spoke; the three nobles knew she was absolutely right, their awareness of the phenomenon prevalent within them, unbeknownst to them. 

Once they defeated death, in contrast to their resolve, they could feel their powers have become somewhat more durable, more invulnerable. 

Which was forgotten momentarily due to series of huge events that promptly tagged along the nuclear missile incident, such as the downfall of Union and the QuadraNet Project. 

Hence the question regarding the resurrection of the three of the five affiliates of the nuclear missile incident was gone, but their curiosity was yet vivid. 

No, it has gotten vivider. 

“I beg your pardon, but I need more details regarding what you mentioned earlier. Now I understand how my lord, I, and Kei could return to life, but... Are you saying the return of Noblesse is also related to the place where we met our temporary eternal sleep?” 

No one emitted a breath at Rosaria's question-slash-accusation, for she touched on the spot that had been itching ever since Lunark held in her lips the “three factors” that had brought Raizel, Lascrea, Kei, and Rosaria back to the world of the living. 

All ears grew keen on Lunark's mouth, waiting for her words to water their thirst for knowledge. 

“Yes, but it wouldn't have been possible without the other two factors, one of which happens to be the half of Ragnarok that you yielded to the Noblesse.” 

Lascrea's, Kei's, and Rosaria's mouths turned agape, for they did not expect to hear the name of the noble lord's soul weapon from a werewolf.

No sound could be heard past Lascrea's phone, an evidence that Raizel and Frankenstein would look no different from them. 

“You permanently forfeited the half of your soul weapon to the Noblesse, did you not?” 

“...I did. It was left behind for Raizel by my father the lord, which Raizel gave back to me upon his return to Lukedonia after 820 years. Nevertheless, I handed it to him in order to replenish his life force.” 

“The power that used to compose the half of the Ragnarok would have by now changed into Noblesse's life energy, fully absorbed into his body. But it's not completely gone. Its remains must be there. Even though it is only half of its original form, Ragnarok stemmed from the bloodline of the noblest nobles in the lead of your kind, therefore forged with might beyond any mortal understanding. I'm sure you, O Noblesse, would have felt the weapon flowing within you ever since you received it.” 

Raizel spoke no confirmation, which in turn served as a confirmation.

It was his habit of speech; whereas he does not necessarily confirm what is right, he will deny anything that deserves his denial. 

<...Okay, so what's the final factor?> 

“...The fact that the four of them met eternal sleep, albeit only briefly, on the same day, at the same hour.” 

That was when Kei and Rosaria exchanged glances, their eyes flickering precariously, and Lascrea failed to conceal confusion marred with inquisitiveness from her face. 

“The key is that you, O lord, and the Noblesse fell into eternal sleep at the exact same moment. As your remains dropped into the Noblesse's ex-sanctuary, the power of the Noblesse embedded in the area created a reaction with the remains of the Ragnarok, its power not far behind the former. And this reaction reached out to its twin - yes, it reached out to the Noblesse, now a biological container of the half of the Ragnarok.” 

The three nobles listening to her gaped at her, looking as if they were hammered in their heads. 

“The point is that the bond between the two parts of Ragnarok still exists as we speak, even though a half of it now pulses through Noblesse's blood and soul. As the two Ragnarok's caused a chain reaction of resonation with the Noblesse's power under the sea, there formed a temporary spiritual bond between you and the Noblesse.”

<...So are you saying the resurrection allowed by the power from my master's ex-sanctuary managed to apply to my master as well?>

“...Precisely.” 

As Lunark's speech was closed, no one did not as much as mumble, too starstruck by the elements that felt so much like part of destiny, in joint with coincidence like fate. 

At then Lascrea's eyes gleamed in remembrance. 

“That reminds me of the tale I picked up from the human reporters who used to be short-term tenants of Lukedonia. There is this marine zone near Lukedonia dubbed as 'Bermudan Treasure Chest' among humans, flaunting innumerable number of rare marine species, its individuals much bigger than those from the identical classification inhabiting other areas. However, recently there have been mysterious shifts in the ecological system of this zone, such as mass deaths of marine species, including the blood-red corals exclusive to this zone.” 

“True. This place you speak of happens to be a favorite dining spot of mine, where I would often drop by to feast on the fish.” 

“...Now I am reminded of how it all began upon our homecoming.” 

<...I see. That zone must have flourished thanks to the power from my master's ex-sanctuary, which is not surprising. It has been bearing the greatest force of life on Earth for more than 8 centuries. But now its power is lost to you, two of your heads of clans, and my master, thanks to this spiritual bond thing, resulting in the end of the golden age for its marine population.>

“...Don't forget that I received unimaginable amount of power from that spot as well. So things can only take the worse turn for the natives of that zone.” 

Kei started to speak as soon as Lunark finished her mutter. 

“Quick question - how do you know all this? And how come none of us remember this?” 

“...The ex-sanctuary of the Noblesse absorbed along with his power the psyche he had harbored. I'd say the power that is held there is basically semi-animate. So after the nuclear missile incident, the entire process of spiritual bond and resurrection that touched on your lord and the Noblesse was engraved into the power within the ex-sanctuary. I managed to absorb all this when I accepted this power. But the reason why none of you remember this is because... I'd compare it to the rupture of glasses that could not stand the multiple resonance of sound waves. What you had gone through was a miracle that transcends life and death. So it'd be no wonder that it left an unseeable scar upon your memories.”

Kei was not the last one to fling questions, and Lunark answered all of them. 

The meeting was closed following Frankenstein's offer that Raizel might be able to gain more life if they are to make use of the power that is left in Raizel's ex-sanctuary (and they sort of saw it coming).

Lunark was left alone, and only then someone approached her. 

“Lady Lunark.” 

“You...? What are you doing here? Your lord and your fellow heads of clans are gone.” 

Lunark's pink pupils were sketched with puzzlement as she recognized Rael. 

“There's something I must tell you.” 

The werewolf warrior tensed, in understanding that Rael chose to confront her after Lascrea, Kei, and Rosaria at last went away. 

On the other hand, Rael was fairly calm, for there was no trouble that required his presence. 

It was but a small reason that he requested the Central Knights from the ward to notify him as soon as she awakens, even though they share nothing in common except for the QuadraNet Project. 

It was but a small but legitimate reason. 

When Lunark awakens, relay her a gratitude from me, I pray. 

That was the concise yet packed-with-meanings request from Raizel, as he sent Rael away to Lukedonia. 

That was supposed to be the sole reason why Rael was waiting for the moment Lunark opens her eyes, but lately things have changed a little. 

During the course of arrest of Deneb, the Central Knights confiscated the walkie-talkie he forced away from Yuhyung's bag. 

Which was passed on to Rael, before it can return to its rightful owner.

The QuadraNet Project may be on a hold, but everyone knew it would be on a hold only for the time being. 

When the project is to commence again, the chances are high for Rael to reassume the ambassador of Lukedonia. 

So it would be logical for Rael to keep the walkie-talkie for now, though no one can certify until when he must keep it with him. 

So Rael had no idea the walkie-talkie dropped right onto his hand would spill Frankenstein's voice all of a sudden. 

I decided to bet my hopes on Mr. Jang's walkie-talkie just in case. Boy, am I glad it didn't turn out to be a fool's hope. 

S-sir...? What's going on...? 

I need a favor. And don't fret. It's nothing huge. 

Back then Rael was busy trying to think of a favor that Frankenstein could possibly ask from him. 

He knew Frankenstein was a man of reasons, but he could not help getting anxious, in consideration of the speaker.

When Lunark wakes up, tell her to go back to her homeland as soon as she becomes mobile. 

Sir...? What do you... 

Tell her not to even think about sticking around Lukedonia and go back as soon as her body becomes good enough for her to move around like usual. 

Frankenstein did not assume any coldness in his words, but Rael could not ask what is the matter, due to the just-deal-with-it attitude he wore at the time. 

Nonetheless, Rael presumed there was no misfortune or problem that Frankenstein had in mind that had urged him to make such delivery to Lunark. 

But please tell her that she doesn't have to run back home right as she opens her eyes. Please. 

He could feel generosity, not at all feigned or halfhearted for the sake of the least of the courtesy he could pull off, as Frankenstein added one more “please.” 

Retracing his experience, Rael finally started off with his job as a messenger. 

*****

Few days later, KSA 

“And that's it for the whereabouts of the remaining lots of the Union.”

A series of nods and regards from the table headed to Tao, who had been making his laser pointer busy with the satellite images from the beam projector. 

Seoul at last regained its daily life, thanks to KSA and RK's joint administration. 

All boxes on the to-do list of treatments and examinations were checked off, and the protocol on media management and operation in case of national crisis met its closure. 

And today, the key personnel of KSA, the RK, 3rd Elder, and Yuigi were gathered at the meeting room for the briefing on the progress up-to-date. 

First of all, Yuhyung was officially discharged, permanently expelled from the registered catalog of KSA employees and staff, imperatively relieved from all his duties and privileges. 

At the same time he was charged, with the recent case in Seoul, as a result of the internal investigation on the matter.

His true crime will never be printed on the public document housing the details of his charges, but he will be legally punished in one form or another, via the man's request. 

I don't care what or how. I want the heaviest penalty you can throw upon me. 

They have yet to decide on the exact what or how, but Yuhyung's career and life are now as good as over. 

And the Union agent who was captured at the end of the calamity at Seoul was eliminated the day before. 

Before which came the interrogation on the location of and the melee force possessed by the remainder of the Union, which provided a basis for Tao to plot a satellite map. 

“The international summits over the globe are not yet very cooperative, which means we are the only manforce we can hire for this job. So my opinion is that in terms of efficiency, it'd be much better for us to select and dispatch people for extermination and shutdown, rather than to have us travel back and forth for the job.” 

“So you're saying the said people must live as wanderers until the Union is completely gone, keeping in touch with us for the sake of communication and progress report.” 

“Which is why we need someone equipped with the energy and combat abilities that will allow them to cope with years-long travel and non-stop combats, as well as flexibility in improvisation against the unexpected. And thorough knowledge in the a's-to-z's of the Union would be a plus.” 

The second Tao, Yeonsu, and M-21 finished their speech, a hand was raised in the air. 

“I'll do it.” 

The hand belonged to none other than the 3rd Elder, gaining a dozen spotlights from the spectators' wide-open eyes. 

“I'll join him.” 

And Yuigi was the second to raise a hand. 

“W-what do you mean by that?” 

Takio - obviously - posed a question in alarm.

“I'm the perfect candidate for the requirements you just listed, M-21. And unlike you and your team, with duties to protect this place, I have no requisites that will bind me from travels.” 

“Same could be said of me. Since the 3rd Elder has lost his power, he would need a bodyguard to carry on with his mission against the modified humans potentially as powerful as Helga.” 

Their logics were without a flaw; in fact, they made an appeal that was only essential. 

The results for 3rd Elder's check-up revealed that his power did not altogether vanish; however, now he has become weak, no longer capable of firing an impact on par with that from a tank upon a single glance. 

Not to mention they learned through Helga that Union was still armed with combatants including her teammate named Sol. 

A proof that it will take a miracle, not hope, for them to bypass any physical collision during their mission. 

A proof that the 3rd Elder and Yuigi are basically candidates sent from above for the job. 

And they knew they would not need to be apprehensive for another betrayal, as the two ex-agents were the ones who supplied the key solutions for the catastrophe at Seoul, thereby earning themselves virtual badges that will certify their allegiance. 

The briefing took itself through the introduction, body, and conclusion without a haste, until the 3rd Elder and Yuigi were classified into a special team to search and destroy the hidden survivors of Union around the world. 

Partially because Frankenstein curiously hurried with the briefing.

“Now, I shall take my leave. You guys stay here and... Do whatever you need to.” 

“What? Where are you off to, boss?” 

“Outside.” 

“Outside? You mean outside Korea?” 

“Yup. But don't worry. I'll make sure I'll be there to say good-bye to the special team as they leave.” 

The three men of the RK could only tilt their heads in confusion, staring as Frankenstein hustled away without even telling them where exactly he was headed to. 

“But is it just me, or... Is he kind of excited?” 

“Thought I was the only one.”

“Well, you weren't.” 

The three men felt their curiosity stacking up by the end of their chat. 

Just what could urge the blonde human to leave in urgency, with a face in full bloom with such roseate excitement so very pronounced? 

(next chapter)

There you have it - the secret behind the four nobles’ return from death. As a reminder, in this fic Muzaka was not dead during the nuclear missile incident, which was mentioned in chapters 1 and 2. It took more than 60 chapters for me to finally unleash the secret for the remaining four. XD

This is part of the reason why I wanted to write this fic. I wanted to talk about Frankenstein and Lunark’s relationship, which was never officiated or portrayed in further depth in the original webtoon, and also attempt my take on the why’s and how’s on the nobles’ resurrection. As I was coming up with theories, I was reminded of the half of the Ragnarok that Lascrea gave to Raizel, and then I remembered how Lascrea, Kei, and Rosaria stopped a missile headed to a human city. The name of the city was left unknown in the webtoon, but I decided it’s Miami, since it didn’t take that long for them to stand upon the ocean to stop the missile (meaning it’s nearby Lukedonia and stationed at the coast of the continent, which would meet the demands to describe the American city that happens to be one of the three vertices making up the Bermuda Triangle). Thus I could come up with the grand secret behind the nobles’ return from death. This “Bermudan Treasure Chest” that I created was in a way a huge spoiler, and the blood-red corals that inhabit this zone was also a hint, in a way. And of course, none of this is canon; this is purely my theory, my creation.

At last I revealed the secret behind the return of the four nobles from the nuclear missile incident, and the two villains of this fic - Helga and Yuhyung - made their official exit. And you also know what will become of the 3rd Elder and Yuigi, and now all that remains is the relationship between Frankenstein and Lunark & the reason why Muzaka’s body moved on its own for survival during the nuclear missile incident. Which means that once these two are settled as well, this fic will be over. There are only 2 more chapters to go, and I can’t tell you how thankful I am to you for staying with me all this way. I’ll see you next week and the week after that with chapters 69 and 70, respectively! Thank you so much! :)

[gaylotusthatexists]

may i have one 'shot with an arrow" with intrulogical, please?

hunting

fandom: sanders sides

pairing: intrulogical 

prompt: shot with an arrow

trigger warnings: morally grey/sympathetic remus, weapons, animal death, blood mention, injury mention

word count: 2391

a/n: hey!!! it's been a while since i posted anything for the @badthingshappenbingo but! i'm back babey, here we go! thank u for requesting this friendo u know how much of a slut i am for intrulogical. 

ao3

The one thing that Logan hadn't expected today was for Remus to break down his door and drag him out to the Imagination, very much against Logan's will. Logan supposed he didn't have an excuse to get out of it, though - he was ahead of schedule in doing his jobs for Thomas, and had actually allocated that day to rest, perhaps to read a few astrology books from the steadily increasing pile on the corner of his desk. However, those plans were soon thwarted as Remus explained his own plans.

Logan somewhat got along with Remus, unlike the other light sides, although he'd never thought that he would ever be Remus' first choice to play around with - or 'torment', as Remus liked to put it, although Logan knew that was just his way of showing affection. Apparently, Janus had been busy that day - something about Thomas working too hard lately, the two of them were having a 'self care day' according to Remus - which meant that Remus had come to Logan instead. Which would usually be fine - Remus often came to 'hang out' with Logan, although that usually consisted of Remus ranting at him whilst Logan worked. This was the first time that Remus had taken Logan into the Imagination.

"Might I inquire what we are actually doing here?" Logan asked, calmly walking alongside a bouncy Remus through the Dark Forest.

"I was bored," Remus said.

Logan sighed. "Yes, Remus, I'm quite aware of that. But that doesn't explain why I am here, or what activities you have in store for us."

"Basically, I was reading The Hunger Games last night-"

Logan raised an eyebrow. "You can read?"

Ignoring Logan's statement but throwing him a glare, Remus continued, "-and I wanna learn archery. And maybe go hunting. So I made an archery range to practise!"

Logan breathed in. "Is that safe?"

"Who cares about safety?"

"I care about safety."

"Well, you're a nerd-"

"I'd just prefer not to die."

"Boring."

Logan sighed. "Please just tell me it's safe."

"Yeah, sure, it's safe or whatever." Remus grinned. "You'll like it, though!"

Logan nodded. "Sure." Over the years, he'd found that it was better to just agree with Remus.

Eventually, the two came across an archery range, where two targets, two bows and several arrows were waiting. One bow had been painted a sickening shade of green and decorated with tiny tentacles, and the other had been painted a solid dark blue, with some white lines dotted around. Logan hummed.

"Did you make these yourself?" he asked, as Remus picked up the green bow and got himself into position.

"Yeah. I didn't sleep last night."

Logan frowned. "Remus, sleep is important, you shouldn't be skipping out on that just to paint something."

"You can't say anything, I know you stayed up late last night reading Sherlock for the hundredth time."

"That's only because I don't have time to read it during the-" He paused. "Wait, how do you know what I doing last night?"

Remus shrugged. He hooked an arrow onto the string and pulled back, sending it flying into the air. It flew straight over the target, landing on the ground a few metres behind the targets.

Logan sighed. "Remus, if you're going to shoot an arrow, at least aim." He stepped towards Remus, as Remus went to get another arrow. "Oh, Lord, you're not even holding it correctly. Here-" He reached up and moved Remus' fingers so one was above the arrow and two below, then fixed his grip on the bow itself. "Alright, now pull to your cheek, try to centre the arrow on the target, and-"

Remus shot the arrow, landing straight on the target. A little off centre, in the red section, but still a pretty good shot. Remus grinned in excitement and immediately went to get another arrow, taking another shot. This time, the arrow bounced off the board, landing in the ground below. Remus pouted.

Logan chuckled lightly. "You need to keep up your technique with every shot, Remus. Don't loosen your grip."

"You're such a nerd, Logan," Remus said, taking another shot and this time getting closer to the bullseye. "How come you know how archery works?"

Logan didn't want to tell Remus about his three am Wikipedia trips learning about subjects that had never particularly interested him but sure were fascinating when he had nothing else to be thinking about, or didn't want to go to sleep, so instead he grabbed his own bow and took a few shots himself, all landing pretty close to the bullseye, one only just off the centre. Remus turned to him, admiration in his eyes.

"I take back what I said about you being a nerd, that was so cool."

Logan gave him a small smile, trying to ignore the fact he was blushing a little. "Well, you're doing a good job yourself, as well."

Remus grabbed his hand and began to run off, dragging Logan with him. "C'mon! We can go hunt real things now-"

"Remus, I don't think-"

Remus shushed him and continued running, deeper into the Dark Forest. He summoned a quiver around his own shoulder and one around Logan's, filled with a never ending supply of arrows. It didn't seem like Logan would be able to get out of this.

Eventually, they stopped as they came across a clearing, with a few deer standing around. Remus ducked under a bush, dragging Logan with him.

"Try to hit that one," Remus whispered, pointing to a large one in the middle.

Logan sighed. "Do I have to? They're deers. They haven't done anything to us."

"They aren't real deers, Logan. They'll be fine. This is just for fun."

Logan breathed in. "Alright." He hooked an arrow onto his bow and aimed towards the deer, trying to keep his breath steady as he released it and watched the arrow soar through the sky, hitting the deers shoulder. It cried out in pain and collapsed to the floor, the other deers running away. Logan couldn't help but feel a little sad.

But Remus was smiling so much, and Logan did like seeing him happy. "You did it!" He exclaimed, jumping out of the bush. He clicked his fingers and the deer came back to life, looking a little confused but beginning to wander around the forest again, the arrow previously stuck in its back disappearing. "C'mon, let's go find more things to kill!"

The two began to walk through the forest now, falling into a comfortable silence as they looked around for their next prey. Logan had to admit that he was... somewhat enjoying this. The forest was a fairly pleasant place to be - being surrounded by nature was calming in a sense, and seeing the various creatures that Remus choose as his targets was actually quite interesting, some of these creatures Logan had never seen up close before and it was certainly an eye opening experience. Of course, he would have much preferred seeing the animals in a context where he wasn't killing them, but still, it was an enjoyable enough experience.

And there was something about Remus' forest that made Logan want to explore even more. He very rarely came to the Imagination, usually only popping in to check on Roman in times where Patton was unavailable, but he had never come to the Dark Imagination. He'd been expecting something a little more... dark, to put things simply, although what he'd been met with was a pretty realistic forest, with a scientifically accurate ecosystem, hardly any nonsense (asides from Remus' apparent ability to revive dead fauna). It was a stark difference from the Light Forest, with danger at every turn and a hundred different species that Logan was a hundred percent certain did not exist in real life, or should even exist in the realm of fiction.

This forest was nice, though. Logan was half tempted to come back here alone at some point, it seemed like an alright place to carry out some research, perhaps a little camping trip would do him some good. He could almost imagine it, a little tent by that stream over there, the berries on that bush didn't appear to be poisonous, there was a family of deer just beyond the stream that he could work with...

"Logan, duck!" Remus shouted, from behind him.

"Duck?" Logan spun around to face Remus, then looked around the area for this supposed duck. "Where?" He failed to notice the arrow quickly flying towards him, and the look of horror on Remus' face as the arrow pierced through Logan's chest.

Or rather, he noticed it a little too late. Logan glanced down at the arrow lodged quite a bit into his skin, looked at the blood beginning to soak through his shirt, and promptly began to freak out. On the outside he tried to maintain a composed look, but on the inside his mind was screaming and he was fairly certain that he was about to die. Well, logically he knew that he couldn't die, and even if he did Remus could just bring him back to life, but damn he had never felt this much pain in his life-

Pain. Pain. The more he thought about it, the more it hurt. He felt himself fall to his knees as all his limbs began to ache, the sharp pain extending from his chest and spreading across his entire body. He felt tears prick at his eyes and his vision become blurry - or was that just his glasses falling off, or- no, no, everything was growing dark as well, and he could feel the blood dripping down his skin, finding it harder and harder to breath.

He felt a hand touch his shoulder, pulling him up and reaching around the arrow.

"No!" Logan exclaimed, wincing at the sudden movement as he twisted his body to face Remus, a look of panic spread across his face.

"Logan, you-"

"Taking-" He took a gulp of air. "Taking it out will make it worse."

"Are- Are you okay?" Remus asked, gently.

"Yes, Remus, I'm doing just great, it's not as if I have a fucking arrow in my chest."

"Okay, okay, that was a dumb question, I'm sorry, I-" Remus breathed in. "If I'm not allowed to take it out, what are we supposed to do?"

Logan bounced his leg up and down, trying to get his thoughts straight and to push the pain down. "I don't know, this is your imagination, can't you get it to go away or something?" Remus' various weapons never usually hurt Logan when he was hit by them, Remus could never usually affect him, why was it different here?

"It's not my imagination, it's Thomas', I-"

"You fixed those animals earlier, can't you-"

"They weren't real, Logan-"

"So? I'm not real either."

"You're real to Thomas."

"Just do something," Logan snapped, getting increasingly frustrated with their back and forth.

Remus glanced around the forest for a second, trying to figure out his next move, before snapping his fingers and picking Logan up. A building had opened up in front of them, some sort of Medieval-style hospital, or... no, more like a witches hut. As he was carried inside, Logan glanced around to take everything in, another attempt to distract himself from the pain. There were bottles of various coloured liquids lining the walls, along with more modern looking medical supplies on tables, and a bed in the far side where Remus went to place Logan down. A woman came out and began to treat Logan's wound, carefully taking out the arrow and rubbing various liquids into it until the pain had soothed just a little. She then wrapped a bandage around Logan's chest, a little too tight for comfort but it kept the blood in, at least. The entire time, Remus held his hand, squeezing it in a comforting manner.

Eventually, the woman disappeared, and Logan's vision slowly return to normal. The pain was still there, but a lot better, and he could breathe much, much better now. After a long silence, he looked up at Remus, frowning at the tears staining his cheeks.

"Remus, are you-"

"I'm so sorry," Remus choked out, squeezing Logan's hand tighter. "I didn't- I didn't realise-"

"There's no need to be sorry, Remus," Logan said, calmly. Inside he was anything but calm, but he needed Remus to know that he wasn't mad at him. "I'm actually rather proud of you, that was quite an impressive shot, considering earlier today you could hardly hit a target-"

"Now isn't the time to compliment me, Logan, you could have died, I almost killed you!"

"I seriously doubt that I would have died," Logan said. "I don't believe it's possible for me to die, being a figment of Thomas' imagination and all-"

"That isn't the point." Remus was crying again. Logan couldn't quite figure out why. "I- I was worried, what if-"

"Why would you be worried about me?" Logan asked, genuinely confused.

"I fucking care about you, Logan, why wouldn't I be worried about someone I care for almost dying?"

Logan blinked. "You... care about me?"

"Of course I do, why would you think I don't?"

"I- I don't know." Logan hummed. "I mean, you hit me with all those weapons daily, and I know it never really affects me but it doesn't exactly scream 'friendship'. I was under the impression that you didn't care about anyone, actually."

Remus collapsed onto him, hugging him tightly. Logan tried not to wince at the sudden pressure, and instead awkwardly patted Remus on the back. "Well, I care about you. Don't scare me like that again."

"I mean, you're the one who hit me in the first place-"

Remus shushed him. Logan sighed, sitting up in the bed and pulled Remus into a proper hug, to which Remus' eyes lit up.

"Maybe we should stop with the archery," Logan suggested.

Remus snorted. "Yeah, okay, in hindsight, it wasn't really a good idea."

Logan smiled. "I did have fun, though."

Remus gasped. "Really?"

"Of course."

Remus hugged even tighter. Logan planted a small kiss on Remus' forehead, and then allowed Remus to sink into his body, as Logan tightened his own grip around Remus as well. The two refused to ever let go.

[simtrospective]

SCRAPPED STORY CHALLENGE by @bugsims

01. Post a few screenshots from a scrapped scene / edit / story! 02. Share why you scrapped this specific thing. 03. Tag five friends, and watch the fun play out!

Thank you to @gilded-ghosts for the tag.

Because I wrote so much that you might prefer to skip, let me do 03. outside the cut. I tag...

@ladykendalsims - @jet-plane-sims - @boogey-studios - @pinkmonsimblr - @dynastiasimss

The above pictures (plus the related tray files) are all I have left of an idea that was half-formed to begin with and which never got off the ground at all.

01.

Depending on if you’re a follower of mine + how long you’ve been following me, you may have seen a few of these shots before but I’ll explain them anyway:

Set 1: The characters Charlie, Hick, and Craig, in their original states on the left and their enhanced, final states on the right;

Set 2: A few WIP pictures of the performance space/club/thing I built;

Set 3: A bunch of test shots I took to see how the characters looked interacting, what they did naturally, and how they looked when I ~directed them. I used these pics to try and find my editing style for the story. I didn’t find the style I wanted. Clearly.

02.

I scrapped this idea because it never came together; I didn’t connect with the characters; I didn’t care about the storyline; I’m not done with my new save so I couldn’t ~comfortably start telling this story when the rest of the world was/is disordered; and on and on. The point is, I wasn’t feeling any of this. Oh! And I hate the whole vibe and time period and aesthetic irl; what on earth was I thinking writing about it?!

So. What was this going to be?

[[Under the cut because this is... so, so long. So long.]]

Charlie, Hick, and Craig were

going

to live in Del Sol Valley in my new save, in the Pinnacles neighborhood, which I was

going

to turn into a Laurel Canyon-style neighborhood. An entire community of would-be songwriters/musicians were

going

to live in the two smaller lots and commune with one another and be the New Guard colliding with the Old Guard; the huge mansion lot was

going

to house an aging former film-current soap actor confronting his mortality and also hating the living shit out of these hippies whose existence he took as a personal affront--I digress. Back to the “story.”

Charlie, Hick, and Craig met after each arrived in DSV separately and they vibed and they moved in together, all in a matter of, like, a week’s time. Charlie and Hick vibed especially. So much in common! Such poor little rich [kids]! Both came from pampered environments in which their family money and respective fathers’ connections allowed them to skate through life and to play at being musicians because--despite crying oppression at the hands of upper class WASP-dom--they'll always have safety nets to ensure they’ll always be okay. Charlotte Grant graduated from her all-girls prep school and put on a floppy hat and became Charlie Grant; Richard Hickey (lololol) ripped up his acceptance letter to Britechester and grew his hair out and hitchhiked and told people to call him “Hick.” They’ve lived parallel lives and “recognize” one another as soon as they meet. They have an electric connection, but neither will verbalize that. Above all, they... really want to sleep together.

Craig grew up working class and has no safety net; he just wants a little adventure before he gets a real job/grows up/gets married (his gf back home is off to college; they’re long-distance; it’s... not going to work). He’s a good guitar player and he’s a good songwriter and that’s it but maybe it’ll be more? What do they say about the lottery? Can’t win if you don’t play? Charlie and Hick want to be famous ~rule the world. Hick plays guitar well and tries to write songs but they’re shitty. Charlie is passively learning the keyboard and writes songs that are not... bad...? Some are... good?

Charlie and Hick--can you tell they eclipse Craig, yet?--have weird sexual chemistry and tension: they tease, they flirt, they taunt, they enjoy one another’s attention but they never so much as hug. They both have cruel streaks as only disconnected, spoiled, emotionally stunted bluebloods can: the torture of their relationship/non-relationship gets them off more than anything else could and that thrill drives much of their behaviors: bringing wanton strangers home for one night stands, each hoping the other is watching/overhearing, fighting about little things, acting like inappropriately close siblings, acting like strangers. Craig suffers their whims; Charlie and Hick aren’t just united in their toxicity and their dreams of fame, but in how they make Craig into a third wheel or a--well, punching bag is too strong a term. Charlie and Hick think they’re teasing their bff but you know how it is to be teased allllll the tiiiiiiime and how it can make your head spin when people who can’t get along with one another join forces--without even having to discuss it--to turn on you. Their relationship gets patched up, you’re hurting, they insist it’s not a big deal and even that you even liked it. We’re all friends. We’re all best friends omg.

But sometimes they have fun together. They have a lot of fun together. Sometimes it all is everything each dreamed it would be. DSV is a wonderland and their careers are happening and life is happening and they’re best friends. They’re soulmates for life.

The three work on music, perform at clubs. Craig is starting to come into his own as a man. I hate the term coming-of-age but in the background of the Charlie & Hick Show, Craig is maturing. He has to, because C&H are fuck-ups. They jeopardize scheduled performances. They don’t know how to talk to club owners. They’re not interested in paying their dues. They are unable (or unwilling) to promote themselves without being obnoxious attention whores. They don’t practice or help write songs. They don’t take care of the house. Hick is late with his rent. Charlie thinks she can flirt her way out of everything. Craig is also the only one of them who works; he has a day job at a print shop, gives guitar lessons on the side, and makes sure the three get gigs and don’t get evicted. The only thing C&H put consistent effort toward is making the social scene or finding a party or scoring drugs or getting laid. As the group’s local star(s) rise, their fates start to change course which increases the interpersonal tension. Hick’s fun-loving nature is starting to turn into a legit substance abuse problem and he’s picking fights with the wrong people and socially devolving, his arrogance and issues and general laziness rendering him unable to relate to others; Charlie is getting a lot of attention from older men In the Business, who have the money and connections to make her a solo star, which she is shrewdly considering; and Craig’s resentment toward his “friends” and disillusionment with the superficiality of DSV is making him rethink his motivation for coming west in the first place.

Oh, and Charlie and Hick--again, as their paths change and as their weird tension remains unresolved--continue to take their bullshit out on Craig and now it’s not funny anymore, it’s not cute, it’s not exciting, and neither is it when Hick ruins a show by being too stoned to perform and neither is it when Charlie brings unsavory characters home who trash the three’s equipment and neither is it when C&H steal Craig’s songs and perform without him at a gig they didn’t tell him about.

What I intended was that the story would at first seem to be The Charlie and Hick Show, all about them, as if we’re supposed to root for them, but ideally, through my ~deft hand 🙄 the reader 🙄🙄 was supposed to be like, Um... hold on-- until it eventually was quite obvious that these two--though human; though in situations we could understand and empathize with--were captured at a point in their lives when they were Super Toxic Assholes, and what you were watching all along was Craig as Hero.

So I had ideas, but I didn’t know how to fit them together and I didn’t want a really long story and I couldn’t--I just couldn’t figure it out. I do know that the end was going to be Craig screwing them like they’d been screwing him, a final middle finger with consequences. I know that he and Hick were going to have words and Hick was going to try and fight him (such a loser) and Charlie was going to throw a Hail Mary of like... trying to seduce (lol) Craig into staying omg I always had a thing for you/we’d be such a great team/I always thought we could ~be something ~together uwu bullshit like that. Was this true? Was this true in her own mind? I think I was going to set the story up so that if you reread, yeah, it could be true, but she’s so flirty and manipulative and socially savvy and used to getting what she wants that who knows what her real feelings ever are? Ultimately that would’ve been irrelevant bc Craig never looked at her that way and hates her and Hick now; good going guys. It’s worth noting, I guess, that when I put the group on a test lot, Charlie was super into Craig immediately, went right to him, stood close to him, was eager to make romantic overtures; she went 0 to 60 in an instant and as so far as is possible in this game they had chemistry, but Craig was not feeling the romance. And no one was feeling Hick.

Anyway, Craig was going to move on with his life and Charlie and Hick were going to learn nothing and blame him, ~the end.

And then, as I continued to play my save and maybe tell more stories, there would be Easter eggs, references to Charlie, Hick, and Craig older/in the future and where they went in life in the background of other, unrelated stories: Hick’s substance abuse problems and rehab stints and going by Richard again and his eventual moderate fame and eventual sobriety and attempted comeback and his bad relationships with his exes and children; Charlie’s legit fame + marriage to a producer + eventual fade away + moderate comeback + solid second or third marriage and bff relationship with her children 🙄🙄🙄 and her palatial house on the coast and now she exclusively wears white and ivory and pampers her dogs and eats raw (but drinks wine) because it “cured” her undiagnosed, unnamed “autoimmune disorder,” which she wrote a book about resulting in a semi-comeback but as a Famous Person and not a musician. Craig going to college and becoming a high school English teacher who plays in a local band on the weekends and who has a good marriage (not to the long distance gf) and nice kids, one of whom would eventually have her own story where she pursued musicianship with her dad, which got him back into his first passion but it was a qt father-daughter project and not An Attempt to Be Famous.

So. Idk. That’s what this all would’ve been. But it wasn’t, and it won’t be!