#i think you need to examine the show again--the show is not impressing the fact will should change his compassion

[deathbxnny]

Luocha, jing yuan and blade with a HoT (hi3) like s/o? Ty ^^

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A/N: Hello! I actually have done something similar to this with Raiden Mei, so I'll focus on the abilities here. Thank you for the request!

Content: Established relationship, fluff, mentions of battle/fighting, mentions of the Herrscher of Thunder abilities, sfw

Reader has no set pronouns!

((Not fully proofread!))

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》Luocha

He doesn't really think much of your abilities, even if some aspects do intrigue him. But he won't treat you any differently for them, as he doesn't think that your abilities define you.

He'll want to know all about them anyways however and keeps notes on them, just in case you need help with something regarding your abilities development. He supports you in his own special way like that.

He secretly enjoys seeing you in your Herrscher form, mainly because he's curious on how all pf your parts work. The mechanical arms that hold up your sword will definitely be examined thoroughly, if you allow him to.

He's ofcourse very proud of having an s/o like you, even if he doesn't voice it out loud. The fact that you chose him out of everyone, makes him feel warm inside.

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》Jing Yuan

He's definitely loud and proud to have you! Constantly talks about your amazing abilities to absolutely everyone that will listen and loves showing you off. It's his way of showing his support and loyalty to you.

He absolutely loves listening to you talk about your abilities to him. Jing Yuan just takes it as a way to relax and spend time with you. Learning about your powers could also be useful to him in the future, so he'll keep everything you tell him in mind.

Definitely loves seeing you in your Herrscher form, mainly because of the cute outfit. The sword is also impressive to him, as your battle abilities are. He just likes to lean back and watch you handle yourself, his pride swelling with every enemy you beat.

-----♡

》Blade

The ultimate power couple for sure. He loves how powerful he becomes at your side and makes sure you always know how much he loves and appreciates you for it.

He knows everything about your abilities and makes sure to use them well, so that you two become practically unstoppable. There is no enemy that could stand in your way now, not with how strong you two are.

He therefore enjoys seeing you in your Herrscher form. Not only because of your appearance, but also because of the massive power boost that comes with it. He loves the sight of your massive sword and the way you cut down your enemies with ease.

He's just so whipped for you and doesn't hide it.

-----♡

A/N: I hope this was alright! Thank you again for the request!<33

[pursuitseternal]

“Woe:” The plot thickens against Astarion and Cordehlia in “Our Blood is Thicker”

Summary: Enemies gather in the shadows, deep in the City of Baldur’s Gate. Fresh challenges will face Astarion and his love, Cordehlia, that will bring woe upon them.

CW: Villains plotting

Previous Ch | Ao3 link |Masterlist

“Cazador Szarr to see you…” the guard announced briefly, cautious not to linger too long in the presence of the soon-to-be Archduke.

The Vampire stalked forward, all long, dark hair and manicured claws. Trying to impress. But Gortash could only force that fake smile on his face until the door shut behind the guard. Then he was all rage and fury and irritation. “The hells are you doing here?”

“We had a deal…” the Vampire Lord’s shill voice snipped in reply. Gortash narrowed his eyes as he sat in his seat by the window. “My Lord, Gortash,” the Vampire was wise to add.

“And you have barely begun to fill it, haven’t you, Szarr. Where’s that missing spawn of yours, hmm? That errant little brat you claim would be so easy to retrieve for your Ascension?” Gortash scowled, never mind the fact that he knew the spawn’s whereabouts. He had calculated and measured and sent spies to Moonrise. And well… he was never wrong.

“The boy has proven problematic, but my other children are diligently sweeping the City. It’s only a matter of time before he shows his face and is brought before me again, humble and contrite and ready for sacrifice.” Szarr held still, but those red eyes of his darted around the room.

Anxious.

“You need leverage, Szarr.” Gortash stood. Making a point to omit the vampire’s title. He crossed to the small locked chest beside him, opening it to retrieve the glowing red contents. “Sent by an Infernal courier this morning to… you… to aid in completing the Rite. There is too much riding on our success. With the Netherbrain and the Army of the Absolute on the march as we speak, you need to seal your end of the bargain by … any means necessary.”

Gortash lobbed the small bottle toward the vampire, trusting that the monster’s skills would catch it. Cazador’s single hand easily snatched the vial midair. A sneer on his grim face as he examined it, Cazador placed it carefully in his pocket. “Did the Archdevil inform you what its purpose is?”

“It is a sample of the power Mephistopheles will grant you…” Gortash smirked at the sudden, barely hidden discomfort that flashed behind the Vampire’s inscrutable expression. “You will gain some immunity to light, some increase in strength and vigor, and most importantly, it will give you a bite so necrotic and potent, death will be the only result.”

A wan smile crept over Szarr’s face. “Sounds most agreeable, what a fitting way for the boy to die… one last bite to end his life of servitude just as one bit began it.”

“Oh, well, perhaps it would serve better use on someone… close to you spawn rather? A way to ensure some cooperation?” Gortash turned his back on the Vampire Lord, pretending to gaze out the window. Looking from the corner of his eyes as the monster shifted on his toes.

“Closer?”

“Oh, your spawn spies haven’t found him… that’s right… unlike mine.” Gortash let all his gloating permeate his voice. Oh, he was enjoying this. “He has formed a deep attachment to one pretty little She-elf it seems, and not just any… he’s fallen in love with the Lady Corvus, the Bone Picker.”

That title barely made the vampire’s eyes tweak at their corners. Small, but perceptible of a tell.

“I can more than handle her, Gortash,” Szarr hissed. But the man only cocked a brow in disbelief. “She is mortal, surely less than the legends make her out to be.”

“Yes, well, as a vampire, I’m sure you know a thing or two about how monsters in reality fall short of their… reputations.” A slight he flung as he turned sharply again, hands clasped behind his back. “But given that the Bone Picker picked clean the carcass of Ketheric Thorm…. I don’t think we should take any chances.”

For once, Cazador Szarr looked… uneasy. His place of power in the new rule of the Absolute rested on his Ascension, but now… now all that stood between him and everything that lay before him was an insolent boy and his new legendary lover.

Szarr left without dismissal, the loud clank of his staff, Woe, echoing through the halls as he strode away.

They both would pay. It was only a matter of time.

[sonseulsoleil]

When Elle first told her friends that she was a girl—when she first told Tao that she was a girl—Tao knew immediately he had to do something to make sure she knew that he—that they—supported her. Finding the enamel pin with stripes of baby blue and bubblegum pink, was just luck. Elle put the pin on her bookbag, and it’s been there ever since. (Tao smiles every time he sees it.)

The second pin was Elle’s idea. Several months after Tao gave her the first pin, Charlie told them he liked boys. Elle suggested giving him a pin similar to hers, the only difference being the colours used. Charlie wore the rainbow pin on the lapel of his school uniform. At least, until the bullying got really bad, and he stopped. (It broke Tao's heart when he realized Charlie didn't feel pride in himself anymore.)

After that, it became a tradition. When Isaac told them he didn’t think he liked anyone at all, and again when Aled told them he only liked his best friend, Tao and Charlie found pins with stripes of purple, grey, and black for both of them, as well as a rainbow flag for Aled. When Elle’s new friends Tara and Darcy made their relationship public, she presented them both with pink and orange pins.

Three weeks ago, Nick Nelson told almost the entire Paris trip that he gave Charlie Spring a love bite because Charlie is his boyfriend. Tao bought the pin almost as soon as they got back from Paris, but he simply hasn’t found the right moment to present it to Nick. Maybe he’s being a bit dramatic about the whole thing, but it feels like more than a pin this time, and the idea of giving it to Nick in front of other people makes his stomach twist.

He hates to be vulnerable.

His moment comes during a film night. Charlie’s been bringing Nick to them more and more frequently and at first, Tao thought he’d be more annoyed by that, but Nick turns out to be the only person who doesn’t argue with Tao’s film suggestions, still too worried about making a good impression. He knows Nick doesn't actually like the films Tao forces them to watch, but the fact that Nick tries so hard to like them is endearing in itself.

“Can someone help me with the popcorn?” Tao asks, standing in the doorway of his bedroom, already halfway out.

Predictably, Nick, always eager to be helpful, immediately hops to his feet. “I will!”

“Great, thanks.” Tao leads Nick downstairs to the kitchen, pulls out a bag of popcorn, throws it in the microwave, sets it for exactly 2 minutes and 17 seconds, and turns around to face the other boy.

“So, uh, what did you need me to do?”

“Nothing,” Tao answers flatly. “I was lying.”

“Oh.” Nick looks like a confused puppy. “Okay?”

“I wanted to talk to you privately,” Tao says before he can change his mind. “I have something for you.”

Nick blinks quickly, a tentative smile pulling gently at the corners of his lips. “Like a present?”

“Kind of,” Tao pulls the pin from his pocket and presses it into Nick’s palm. “It’s not a big deal.” (That’s a lie, obviously. But Tao doesn't think Nick knows that.)

“What is this?” Nick asks, examining the pin, and turning it over in his palm several times.

“Don’t you recognize your own pride flag?” Tao snarks, arms crossed defensively.

“Obviously, I know it’s the bi flag,” Nick huffs. “I mean, why are you giving this to me?”

“It’s a bit of a tradition in our friend group to get one of these pins for someone when they come out.” Tao stares at a point above Nick’s head, unable to bring himself to make eye contact. “Just, um, a way we show each other support or whatever, I guess."

Nick is silent for a beat too long and Tao wonders what he thinks of it, if he can see past Tao's defensive, snarky tone, and understand the gesture for what it is.

“Oh,” Nick finally says, voice so soft and disbelieving that for a second Tao thinks the Rugby King might actually start weeping in his kitchen. “I’m going to hug you now.”

“Wh—" Tao has no time to react before Nick’s arms are around him, squeezing him tightly. Nick smells like pine-scented soap and his jumper is soft cotton and he hugs like it’s the last time he’s ever going to see Tao, and Tao—

Tao can see why Charlie spends so much of his time wrapped up in his boyfriend’s arms. Nicholas Nelson is a damn good hugger. And for a brief moment, Tao lets himself relax into Nick's embrace.

“Awww,” a gentle voice floats into the kitchen. “How cute!”

Nick lets go of Tao and turns to face the newcomer. “Charlie! What are you doing here? Not that I'm complaining.”

“You were taking too long,” Charlie pushes out his lower lip in an exaggerated pout. “I missed my human pillow.”

Tao rolls his eyes. “You guys are disgusting.”

“Like you and Elle are any better,” comes Charlie’s retort.

Tao feels his face heat up at the mention of his girlfriend, and he knows he’s blushing furiously, but Charlie and Nick are too caught up in each other to notice.

“Alright, I’m going back upstairs. Please remember my mum is home and could walk in here at any moment.”

The other boys flush at the implication, and Tao leaves them like that, heading back upstairs to his bedroom.

“The party has returned,” he announces as he walks in, throwing his arms out dramatically.

Elle looks up at him from her perch on the floor with a raised eyebrow, unimpressed. “Where’s the popcorn?”

“Oh.” Tao freezes, looks down at his empty hands, and remembers who he left alone in the kitchen. “Crap.”

[balladetto]

colourful munday interview / no longer accepting / @gerudospiriit, @ordonianpumpkin, @sapientiiae, & anonymous

thank you all bunches for sending these in! ♡ had fun answering each one; all under the cut because i am not and will probably never be a concise person, ahaha

[ ruby ] give one random fun fact about yourself.

i can play two instruments! the piano and guitar, though i'd say i'm pretty rusty with both. given the practice, i think i could get back up to par again with the former? i formally learnt both in the sense that i know the rudiments of music theory and can still decently read notation, but that's about where the extent of my knowledge ends...hasn't stopped me from getting absolutely obsessed with the intricacies of instrumental osts when it comes to mechanics, aesthetics, leitmotifs, etc. asflkdsj

[ olive ] what gives you the most inspiration for your muse(s)?

it really depends on which muse i'm writing! in general, i like to revisit their canons (i.e. replaying their games or rewatching their movies) and examine all the details and overarching themes/motifs i can catch in them if i need a boost of the Muse Presence, but sometimes i'll take inspiration from completely unrelated media i've consumed that i feel could be applicable to my interpretations

e.g. i've been taking some tidbits from caine from jw4 for link recently, in that he's someone who knows his "role" in life, is really fucking good at playing it (however much he doesn't want to), and would give almost anything to escape it. even as he's totally settled into it! despite the myth he makes of himself in this one movie he shows up in, he's a ghost in his own world. he goes through the film reluctant to do the things he so easily does anyway, with his hand forced by the high table because he has someone he loves so deeply, yet at the end of it all: he's still afforded some measure of happiness because he was loved by someone so deeply in turn. these two are really not the same type of characters at all, but caine's Vibes are part of the Feel i want to communicate through link's story!

other times, i'll come across a fic (often not even for the same characters or media lskjdf) that gives me the worst brainrot and that'll flavour how i want to frame my writing and what i want readers to Notice for muses. but i otherwise tend to keep it contained to overanalysing canons! honourable mention @ my partner, for being the best sounding board and engaging with me on all my rambling ♡

[ navy ] what do your muse(s) mean to you?

they're my best friends, they're my pals, they're my homeboys (gender neutral), my rotten soldiers, my sweet cheeses, my good-time fellas—

they're my blorbos of all time! they mean so, so much to me!! especially the ones that have stuck around for nearly or exactly a decade like link, the zeldas, aidan, and gold; those were some rough (trans)formative years that they carried me through, and i had so much fun with them! i still am!! plus, the friends i make through writing these muses will always leave such an indelible impression on me no matter how many years pass (i am looking directly at people like issie and adri and kris as i say this sldfjdkf still leaves me gratefully gobsmacked that i found you again after so long!) ♡

[ mulberry ] what tips would you give someone with writer's block?

don't force it! try not to agonise over it. come back to it at some other point after you've gone and done something else that might be just as creative in nature (drawing, crafts, etc.). dip into your other hobbies if you have them! read. watch things, play games! consume as much as you've outputted! take care of yourself!!

above all, remind yourself that you're more than whatever writing you can give to anyone!

[ blonde ] what is your favourite type of music? favourite artist? favourite song?

hard to choose, because i don't have a genre i'm super dedicated to? ig if i had to pick based on what i generally listen to a majority of the time, my favourite type would be whatever category osts fall under askdjlf

i think it's also because of that that i tend to steer towards songs i can't understand without translations? if there are words i can pick out, i get a bit too distracted, and half the time my audio processing issues make it so that i only sort of make out most of the words, which distracts me on a different level sdkfjfl following that, my favourite artist(s) in terms of songs with lyrics would probably be yoasobi :) i listen to their pieces the most consistently!

ahhh...literally will never be able to choose a favourite song when i have so many! for the moment...i'll pick rito village, as played by kass and his sweetums!! it's just such a sweet rendition ♡ and i want more people to be reminded of it! lmao you thought me leaving my birdies for a hot second would get rid of the brainrot. absolutely not they've still got a Grip on me sldfksjdl

[ lime ] describe yourself as a character / mix of characters you've always related to the most.

minor npc in the protagonist of the series' life that's like. just a passing face, but has an entire life beyond saving the world that makes actually saving the world all the more meaningful by way of their story coming together with every other npc's to weave this feel of a world that's actually alive.

also! unnoticeable character, perhaps, but the protagonist of their own life :) slfkjfd sorry. zelda might've been a core part of my personality since childhood but mp100 changed my brain chemistry on a molecular level at ~sixteen. hard for me to leave its truisms and themes alone

[ azure ] is there a specific character or type of character you want to write but never have? why?

there are specific characters i've been hankering to write but just don't think my writing style will do them justice in terms of narrative voices OR don't feel very confident in my interpretation of those narrative voices in the first place, yeah! reigen arataka from mp100, kazuha kaedehara from genpact (who wouldn't be affiliated with the rpc at all now that i no longer play the game, which is another hurdle), and link from albw to name a few.

there's also the issue of my time and energy, and other writers' interest in interacting. maybe one day i'll bring one of these to the fold, but it won't be anytime soon sdlfkdjf

[ cherry ] what is one thing you love about yourself?

hmm. i'm very proud of my progress in terms of mental health recovery! dunno if that's something i'd say i love about myself though sflkdjf so maybe how in-depth i can go in terms of character analyses? at least for characters that i feel are really understated or don't often get to shine in fandom communities and such. i do love a majority of my muse interpretations (outside validation's alway nice ofc) — i wouldn't be able to write them otherwise!

[ cerulean ] what is your favorite (type of) character to write?

i know the person who sent this in wants me to say the truth so here it is slfkjdkl i really like writing characters who did not get the resolution or healing they should've gotten from their trauma in their canons. i like exploring what that does to them and what healing might look or not look like for them. i especially loveeee collecting dynamics for them because that's ultimately what heals everyone, isn't it? that outside support and care :) it's cathartic to write, and i hope it's meaningful to read for my writing partners when we really get into the nitty gritty of it!

[ apricot ] what do you think your life will be like in ten years?

happy? happy. i don't tend to mull on the specifics so much. though i'd like to think i'd still be writing, at least! there are some other really personal things i'm not super comfortable with sharing in a public space, but to the one who sent this in: i hope i'll still be with you. i hope we'll get to be together not just in our hearts. i hope we'll have physically built up lives of our own ♡ sorry for getting disgustingly sappy but i love my loveliest lady!! slfkjdl

[ fuchsia ] bonus round: angst or fluff? one-liners or paras? plotting or winging it? memes or starter calls? single muse or multimuse?

i like reading and writing both, with a slightly heavier inclination towards fluff! paras unless it's shenanigans. i vibe with both, but work better with prior plotting! either is good and i do not mind them! i do have a preference for running multimuses now just because it makes it less of a hassle when you've got multiple blorbos bouncing around in your head, though love interacting with both!

[justsome-di]

Nobody Ends Up Dead in a Bathtub, Everyone Keeps Their Organs: Chapter 16

Summary: Alex is an ordinary, highly-introverted office worker. He clocks in and out and goes home to his little apartment he shares with his younger sister. He hasn’t dated in years. Until his co-workers set him up on a blind date.

The only issue is he and his date are not on the same page. At all.

While  Alex thinks it’s a normal date, Damián is under the impression Alex is a  client who paid to be there. No-so-quickly, they realize something is up. It’s all a prank. Damián is a sex worker Alex’s co-workers hired as a  sick joke.

After reassuring that they’re both okay, Alex decides he wants revenge for both him and Damián. The plan is to use the stigma of sex work and start a 6-week, scandalous fake dating scheme with a big finale at the office Halloween party. Alex’s co-workers will be too horrified to try to prank him again. At least, that’s the plan.

Thanks again for the soup!

Not a problem!

You looked like you needed it—Alex quickly deleted the last line. He didn’t want Damián to think he was examining him. He wanted it to look like he was paying attention to Damián a normal amount. A normal person paying a normal amount of attention in a normal budding friendship.

He also didn’t want to let Damián know that after three days, Alex was still thinking about the soup. That after so much time, he was still thinking about the nurturing and the acceptance and the warmth behind the spontaneous act.

And thank you for letting me show you Pretty Woman. Leo said I was, in fact, “extra” about it.

You the perfect amount about it

Alex regretted sending it and cringed when he saw Damián read it. He wanted to un-send it but unfortunately, his outdated phone didn’t have such a feature. His only hope for stopping Damián from reading it was to sprint across town and throw Damián’s phone out a window.

“Alex, can you send a fax for me?”

Alex shoved his phone under his computer monitor, next to a stapler and a stack of Post-It notes. Sally from sales was filling out the final lines of a lengthy form, leaning on his desk. She looked over her glasses at each careful signature and initial.

“Where’s it going to?” Alex asked, standing and taking it.

“Insurance company. Their number’s on the top.”

Alex was the only one in the office who could work his magic on the fax machine. It sat behind his desk, old and cranky. Their copier machine could be connected to their fax line, he told his boss once a month. It would be faster. More convenient. Everyone would be able to use it. But no. There was apparently no point in fixing what wasn’t yet totally, irreparably broken. Alex continued faxing everything from behind his desk after silently sucking up to the machine that was waiting for death to release it from its duties.

“Why do people even request faxes?” Sally asked. “Email is faster.”

“Faxing is more secure,” Alex explained. “It doesn’t violate HIPAA. It’s also really important for some people to have physical documents just in case…”

Sally wasn’t listening. She was looking at her phone. Alex let his sentence die and began running the paperwork through the machine. It slowly ate through each sheet and spit it back out and started its painful journey to dialing.

Alex put a gentle hand on a gray curve of plastic. He believed in it. The little fax machine could do it. One day it’d be able to rest.

Sally reached over mindlessly to grab candy out of the jar sitting on Alex’s desk. She unwrapped a butterscotch and stuck it in her mouth, immediately making a face and spitting it back out into the wrapper.

“When are we getting better candy? It’s Halloween.”

“Halloween’s not actually for another three weeks.”

“It’s October. That’s Halloween enough.”

Alex couldn’t argue with that. But the people would have to wait for the good candy he was keeping stashed away. If he set it out now, everyone would go throw it in a week. And then there would be nothing left with his sweets budget depleted, and then his head would be on a pike. They didn’t realize he was the one keeping peace in the office with his candy selection.

The candy was also, technically speaking, for clients and visitors.

He handed Sally’s paperwork back. “It’s sending,” he said. “I’ll let you know if it fails.”

“Thanks, Alex.”

She walked away, staring at her phone again.

Now that you’ve seen Pretty Woman, I need to know what else you’ve been missing out on. Have you seen Rocky Horror?

Of course I’ve seen Rocky Horror. I think it was part of my sexual awakening

Too much! Too much! Alex wanted to take it all back. He was ready to sprint across the city to drown Damián’s phone in the river.

Mine too!! Was it Rocky or Tim Curry for you?

Alex relaxed in his chair. It was okay. It was okay. Damián wasn’t going to judge.

Actually it was both Tim Curry and Susan Sarandon

Solid people to lust over. What about The Birdcage?

Yeah, I watched that one a long time ago with my dad

Fucking cute.

He’s a big Robin Williams fan, and it’s been one of his attempts to bond with his bi son

We stan your dad. Paris is Burning?

Of course

Okay, I’m out of movies. Your turn. What’s essential to watch?

Alex greeted a client and walked them to the meeting room where his boss was already waiting. He fetched fresh pens and grabbed extra notepads just in case.

Have you ever seen Pokemon?

Yes. Fuck. Leo loved it when he was really little. We’d watch it for hours.

Eve still watches it

If you had a Pokemon, what would it be?

Oh my god. Eve-ee. I need to tell her that one.

Alex let the pun go without comment. He thought about sending a thumbs-down emoji but let it go. He didn’t want to look like a total kill-joy who couldn’t appreciate a pun—and Damián seemed to take his puns pretty seriously.

Honestly, I think a psyduck

Oh no, you’re right. You would have Psyduck.

What about you? What would you have?

Gardevoir is pretty sexy.

Oh I think you misunderstood the question. I asked what Pokemon you would have. Not one that you’d fuck

Was that too much? He shouldn’t have texted that.

But Damián was immediately typing.

Cheeky! Fine. Vulpix.

Aw. Cute. Why?

I think I just want a dog if I’m being honest. Besides, they evolve into Ninetales, and Ninetales is majestic. They’re everything I want to look like.

With the right coat we might be able to achieve that.

As long as I don’t look like a furry. Or a weird aristocrat that gets blood thrown on them from PETA protesters.

I hate to break it to you but saying that you want to dress like a pokemon inherently invites furry energy into the situation

Goddammit

Beginner furry energy, though. Baby’s first fursuit

Nooo

You could probably make some sort of Halloween costume out of it if you ever end up at some fancy costume party, and you’d be safe

I have been a Pokemon for Halloween before. When we were little and Leo had no autonomy, I made us dress up as Eevee and Espeon for Halloween.

That’s adorable!

I was cringe, but Leo was so fucking cute. I modified a toddler’s lion costume for him. I wrapped the mane around his neck and made him ears out of construction paper. I don’t have any pictures, but if I did I would show you because he was so fucking cute.

Wait you wrapped a headpiece around a toddler’s throat?

I should not have been allowed to do that. I don’t think I was well-supervised as a child. Honestly, it’s a miracle I’m alive. And Leo. I probably almost killed him a few times.

One time in high school I was supposed to be watching Eve, but she was crawling around too much so I put her under a laundry basket and put a book on top of that

Oh my god

I got grounded and wasn’t allowed to watch her again until I was in my 20s. I’m surprised she’s allowed to live with me now

Please tell me more stories about the awful things you did to Eve when she was a child. I’m only 10 minutes away.

Alex looked up from his phone. Oh. It was already nearing five. He hadn’t worked on anything in almost an hour. It felt good to have slacked off so much.

He checked the fax machine. A confirmation slip had passed through a while ago. He tucked it away in his desk in case Sally asked for it later.

How had lost so much time? He was only going to text Damián for a few minutes. The end of the day had gone by in a blur while it usually dragged on forever. Alex always listened to everyone else winding down, ignoring their work in favor of conversations. He was always so far away from everyone else, his desk an island in the sea of sales and marketing and accounting.

The front door opened, and Damián slipped in, trying hard to be quiet. It wouldn’t have mattered if he had walked in yelling. No one cared so late in the day if a partner or spouse walked in.

“Sorry I’m early,” he said. “I would have waited outside for a little bit, but it was cold.”

Damián had his arms crossed and tucked close to his chest, but he wasn’t shivering like he had been. He leaned over Alex’s desk.

“This is so much fun,” he said. “Me coming to pick you up from your office job. We’re, like, domestic.”

“Is it fun?”

“Yeah! You have all of your office stuff. Your little phone. Your old people candy is still out.”

Damián picked up a caramel candy and actually put it in his mouth this time. At least someone was appreciating the little hard candies.

Alex walked around his desk to reach Damián’s side. Andrew was standing nearby, slipping on his jacket. Stu talked to him, but Andrew wasn’t listening. He was staring at Damián, eyebrows pressed together and a scowl on his face. Stu kept talking, saying something about his weekend with some woman and not even seeming to notice Damián standing just a few steps away.

Stu was over it all. He didn’t care. There was a chance Stu didn’t even recognize Damián. And overall, that was probably for the best. Apathy and indifference didn’t breed intentional hostility.

Alex could see how Damián got under Andrew’s skin. Damián’s mere presence was offensive. It was like Alex could see Andrew unraveling, finally, losing a grip on himself.

Damián’s cheek bulged out with the candy tucked away in it. “Who’s that?”

Andrew’s bushy eyebrows were furrowed together, and his lips were pursed in anger. He looked away first and walked out the doors with Stu, still silent.

“The dicks that set us up,” Alex said. “The one staring you down was Andrew.”

“He seems a little bit more than just a dick,” Damián said, quietly.

“He’s pretty unpleasant.”

So much so that Alex was starting to have second thoughts about bringing Damián to the party at all. Andrew had never been so openly unpleasant before. Hostile? Could Alex call him that at this stage? Or should he have waited until Andrew got worse?

“I’m sure it’ll all be fine,” Damián said, evidently thinking the same thing as Alex.

“Probably.”

More workers were leaving, heading towards the doors in pairs and solo. Alex wanted to move forward toward the door, but Damián was staring longingly at Alex’s desk.

“Can I sit at your desk and answer the phone?” Damián asked.

“No.”

“Why not?”

“It’s 5. No one’s calling.”

“Someone might call, and I think I should be able to fulfill my dream of being a cute, little secretary.”

“And how long have you had this dream?”

“Since last night.” Damián lowered his voice. “I had this client who wanted to roleplay, and I was kinda into it. But then I was thinking, ‘How can I make this more accurate? What if I’m disrespecting Alex’s career—‘”

Alex waved his hands. “I’m not offended.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want to appropriate anything.”

“I don’t think you can appropriate being a secretary. It’s not a culture or anything.”

“Sometimes I worry, you know? I thought I should do some research.”

“There’s absolutely nothing sexy about working at a desk all day faxing papers to insurance companies and talking to angry hospital managers.”

“I’ll just get creative.”

“Well, if you need a sensitivity reader then I’ll volunteer my services.”

In the middle of the last wave of workers leaving the office, Martin pushed his way through. He smiled and waved at Alex and Damián. His jacket was slung over his shoulder.

“Oh, here we go,” Damián mumbled.

Martin slipped through to the front desk.

“Hi!” he said. “I saw Marcus was here, and I thought that I’d catch you guys before you left.”

“We were just about to head out—“ Damián began.

“Yeah. Yeah. I won’t keep you.” Martin smiled, awkwardly. Alex was seeing how awkward he actually was when he was detached from the other two. And it had been a while since Alex saw him with Andrew and Stu. “I just wanted to apologize again. Sam and I both apologize. She says she realizes she came off a bit strong.”

Damián nodded. “She did. I would even go so far as to say she was inappropriate.”

Alex wished he could stand up for himself like Damián did. If it were him, he would have been waving his hands and telling Martin not to worry about it just to get out of the conversation as quickly as possible.

Martin was grimacing. “Yeah. We didn’t handle it well. She wants to apologize. She said she got excited and nervous. She does feel really bad about it. I do, too. And I mean, genuinely, we feel bad. We’ve been thinking about it all weekend. We do actually think you and Alex are cool, and we didn’t want to hurt either of you. Again.”

Alex had never been called cool before, and if he weren’t focused on being offended on his fake boyfriend’s behalf, he would have thanked Martin.

“You know, it’s fine,” Damián said in a way that sounded like it was not fine.

“We should have gone into the night more educated,” Martin said.

And that made Damián relax a little. He nodded and then sighed.

“I guess I can’t expect everyone to know everything about those sorts of things,” he said. “I mean, people have just started openly talking about sex work. It was a lot more secretive and taboo 10 years ago—not that it isn’t now. I would never walk down the street shouting that I’m a sex worker because of cops. I honestly think TikTok—you know, despite all the awful things that came with it—you know all about TikTok’s privacy issues, right? They take your data—“

“What Marcus is getting at,” Alex said, “is that he can understand where the ignorance is coming from, not that he’s excusing it. And I assume he accepts the apology?”

Damián nodded. “Yup.”

Alex was impressed by how easily he articulated that. He didn’t even stutter.

“We wanted to extend another invitation to you guys,” Martin said. “Not that you have to accept it.”

One invitation felt like it was meant to smooth things over. Two invitations felt like Martin and Sam were genuinely trying. Alex actually felt good about it.

“We’re having a little party thing on Wednesday. It’s not really much of a party,” Martin said. “We having another couple friend over for drinks and desserts. You guys would probably like them. They’re a little more, uh, sensitive than Sam and I. More educated.”

Alex looked to Damián. “It’s up to you and your schedule.”

“I’m free this Wednesday,” Damián said. “And I think it’s a nice gesture. We could probably make it.”

Martin, isolated, looked so anxious and small. Alex had never realized he wasn’t that much taller than himself. Without Andrew and Stu, he was a little guy with a wife and a few real friends.

“We’ll see you there,” Alex said, with a little more energy because he knew what it all felt like, and if he was tricking the poor guy, then he could definitely be a little nicer to him. “Just let me know your address.”

Damián and Alex ate their Monday dinner together at their usual diner. They had gone there enough that Alex felt like it was a “usual” thing.

“So another $250?” Alex asked when they were walking out together and down the street.

He had meant to ask earlier, but their conversation over dinner had returned to the secretary roleplay and then transitioned toward a viral video turned internet scandal and ended with Damián recommending some of his favorite books. Damián was chatty, almost forgetting he had food in front of him but enthusiastically turning to it when Alex found room to speak.

“Let’s say another $200.”

Christ. Alex’s bank account was going to take a big hit at the end of the month. He would be fine. He would recover. He would just have to take it easy on some other things. No new, fancy coffee. He’d go with something a little more common. He could cut back on delivery and cook more. He could stop funding Eve’s hot chip addiction.

And poor Eve’s new mattress savings wouldn’t see any new deposits any time soon. She would understand. Or she at least wouldn’t complain. It wasn’t like they had made it a habit to slide money in the sad mason jar.

“What do you think Martin and Sam have planned for this week?” Damián asked.

“Hopefully nothing like last week.”

“If so, I say we have a backup plan. I think we should hit up a bar if we walk out on them. That way the whole evening isn’t wasted.”

It had been years since Alex had been out to a bar. It would be exciting. Alex almost hoped that Martin and Sam would fuck up again just so he could have a night of Damián all to himself.

[goombasa]

I Read Scott McCloud's Comics Trilogy Recenlty

So yeah, for anyone who doesn't know, Scott McCloud is a pretty big deal in the comics scene, one of the guys who helped to draft up the Creator's Bill of Rights, and has done a lot of major work independently and at major publishers, and near as I can tell, one of the first pretty big creators to actively campaign for the creativity of things like Webcomics. But he's probably most well known nowadays for his non-fiction educational work mostly centered around comic books.

And I finally bought and read all three of them. The ‘Comics Trilogy’ as I've taken to calling cosists of:

Understanding Comics (1993)

Reinventing Comics (2000)

Making Comics (2006)

And this trilogy is incredibly dense with information about the medium, where it was at, and where it was going. In fact, while there are several degrees of separation between each book (about 6-7 years or so), it is very impressive just how fresh and relevant almost all of the information in this trilogy manages to be. Yes, they do show their age in some ways; both Reinventing Comics and Making Comics refer to both the internet and things like drawing tablets as though they were still pretty new and unexplored technology. However, all three of them contain some very astute observations about where Comics as a medium is going and it's really fascinating to see how close to the bull's eye Mr. McCloud was on so many counts.

Discounting that though, these are just interesting to read because all three of them ask you to really examine WHY comic books as a medium work. Understanding Comics for example, serves as a very concise history of comics as a whole and tries to put a decent definition on what qualifies as being a comic (a task that it doesn't entirely succeed at, by Scott's own examination, but it very much gets you thinking on words and pictures, what separates them and how they can be intertwined into a story.

Reinventing comics is more about the potential of the medium and I'll admit, its more philosophical tone on the potential of comics was a bit much for me. I had trouble processing and digesting everything in this book compared to Understanding or Making. I certainly understood what it was going for, and again, this book, out of all three, is fascinating to read with about twenty years of hindsight, as Scott manages to bang-on predicted most of the trends that would come into the medium down the line. Just probably not in the ways he was expecting them to. It's still a very interesting read, but I'll admit, I had a lot more trouble following it than I did the other two books and I had to go back and reread a few sections to full feel like I was grasping the full meaning on a lot of what was said, but it was still a very interesting read.

The third in the series, Making Comics is probably the most straightforward, but this isn't like an online tutorial. Instead it's more like a lengthy instruction manual presenting you with the tools and ideas that can be used to build a comic beyond your skill as an artist. How to letter, how to frame a shot, when you should use captions or sound effects or word balloons. It gives a very detailed overview of everything you'd need to know in order to make your own comics from a practical standpoint. It makes some suggestions on the tools or software to use, but for the most part, it's more about giving you a proper overview of the craft rather than a tutorial for specific tools or software. That's easy enough to find elsewhere on the internet.

I think the reason these books work so well is the way they are presented; They are comic books. They aren't just books that talk about comics, they are COMICS that talk about comics. This isn't even the first time that I've seen this done. Back when I was in middle and high school, I did have a couple of classes that dabbled in using comics instead of traditional text books to introduce their subject matter. In particular, I was introduced to Larry Gonick's books like “The Cartoon History of the Universe” and “The Cartoon Guide to Genetics.” These books are a bit different than that, as yes, they are specifically educational, but they focus specifically on the medium that they are a part of, and I think that does a lot to convey Scott's arguments about just how far the medium can go, and helps to highlight everything that he's talking about with actual real time examples. That's not to downplay Mr. Gonick's contributions to cartooning and comic books as a potential tool for learning and education of course, he's written a LOT of these books over a multitude of different subjects, but one does have to admit, he is very much an exception rather than the standard.

(for an added recommendation, I'd recommend Larry Gonick's “Hypercapitalism” as well, really worth a read on its own)

These books manage to feel timeless in their subject matter and the way that they talk about the medium. Sadly, Comics as a whole today are still struggling to reach a sort of mainstream acceptance as a respectable medium, and yes, we do have big blockbusters for comic characters nowadays, but really, how many people who watch those movies read the comics those stories are based on? And for those that do read the comics, how many books outside of superhero books published by the Big Two do they read? The comics trilogy lays down the ideas of how the medium could potentially be elevated, and while that hasn't happened yet, I am hopeful for the future. If you have never read these before, and you have any interest in comics as a medium, especially what you can find beyond the standard of a super hero comic, I would really recommend this trilogy. Last I checked, I cannot find them being sold as a set anywhere, but all three of them can be found used for pretty cheap. Heck, even brand new, they don't typically go over $15, and I'd say they're worth every penny. Note that this is referring to paperback copies of the books. There are some hardcover versions floating around out there, but those are much harder to find, and consequently are a lot more expensive, at least for Understanding Comics.

[anheliotrope]

So yeah, it's kind of impressive how one little thing makes Resident Evil 1 remake significantly worse than it should be.

Chris has 6 inventory slots, Jill has 8 inventory slots.

The game has numerous quest items whose usage is not clear at all. This lack of clarity can arise from simple things like "how the fuck am I supposed to know which doors are opened by the helmet key" and it can also arise from things like "what the hell does this red gem even do".

Without a guide, it's really difficult to know when you should be carrying each quest item. Even if you check locked doors and see what key they need, you would need to actually remember or type that down, and let's be real, you're probably not going to do either. You're going to remember one locked door, not 3-4.

Changing subject -- RE1 Remake had a great feature added. It's called Crimson Heads. Zombies you down, whose head is not destroyed, will rise as Crimson Heads after a certain amount of game time has passed. They are 3-4 more threatening than a normal zombie, and much harder to avoid. A huge drain on your resources at best.

You can destroy heads in three main ways:

There's a 5% chance to decapitate a zombie with the handgun. I have no idea if this requires actually shooting its head.

There's a 60% or 75% chance to decapitate a zombie with a shotgun blast to the head.

You can use kerosene and a lighter to burn the zombies.

You really don't have enough shotgun ammo to waste on regular zombies, and your handgun is entirely unreliable here. So you will be using a lot of kerosene. And this is the problem. Suddenly your 8 inventory slots become 6 inventory slots.

The game constantly forces you to choose between backtracking until you wish for death and having so many slots occupied by quest items and kerosene+lighter that you won't ever be able to pick up resources you run across -- causing you to backtrack anyway.

Did I mention you can only carry two charges of kerosene, there's dozens of zombies, and you can only refuel at canisters that eventually run out forcing you to go to even farther away canisters and waste more of your time?

Crimson Heads in isolation are genuinely a good idea. The best way to avoid dealing with a Crimson Head is to not kill the zombie at all. A scary prospect when you've not yet mastered avoidance! But the kerosene and lighter take what was a medium-sized problem in RE1 and make it planet-sized.

Playing this game with a guide vastly helps with this issue as you will minimize unnecessary backtracking. But this in turn makes the game much less scary and definitely doesn't help with immersion.

I'm absolutely obsessed by how hard people can work on a game but one small decision involving two funky inventory slots almost ruined my ability to enjoy the game.

This is just a thing in video games, I guess.

Also, it might not click with you why the backtracking is so bad. So I'll explain:

It takes way longer than it should because every single door you open triggers a 5 second door opening transition.

When you play blind you don't know how many zombies are going to spawn on your way back. Ultimately it's less than you'd think, but you have no way of knowing that, there are just arbitrary static spawns triggered by progression + visiting an area again.

You have to avoid every enemy you left alive.

You have a limited amount of saves because saving uses up an item that has a finite quantity in the entire game. The more time you spend doing things, the more time you can lose by dying.

(Chris always has the lighter without it taking an inventory slot, just random fact.)

RE2 remake vastly improves the situation by showing you what quest items you need on the map, provided you've explored there before and examined your items. You have more inventory slots and fewer quest items. It's basically almost solved. But I'll get into what RE2 remake screws up later.

[kestrelvylbrand]

FFXIV Write 2: Bolt

Master List (Coming Soon)

“You’re killing me with these prices!” Kestrel sighed dramatically. The store owner did not look impressed. She was a middle-aged elezen woman, her iron-grey hair tied up into a neat bun. A pair of half-moon spectacles perched halfway down on her narrow nose. Her clothes were immaculate, as one might expect from an upscale store in Ishgard.

“These are newly imported from Radz-at-han,” she said with a sniff, pushing the glasses further up her nose so she could look Kestrel up and down. Kestrel struck a pose, then leaned sideways against the table with the fabrics rolled out. The conclusion of the woman’s examination clearly didn’t come out in Kestrel’s favor.

“They are handmade, very exquisite. I try not to judge a book by its cover…” She tilted her head, giving Kestrel another look. “... But if the price is too high for you, I am sure we can find something more in your range.”

The woman’s tone had softened slightly, perhaps at Kestrel’s expression. “I have some rather lovely organza, how does mauve sound?” She left the bolt of clothes on the table as she turned to find the mauve organza. Kestrel played idly with one of the pearls of the delicate fabric that had caught her eye from outside the store. It was a delicate, translucent fabric, fading from soft blue into a deep purple, like the sky right after the sun has set, before it truly gets dark. Pearls of various sizes dotted the fabric like stars. She didn’t usually pay much attention to fabrics but this one, this one had caught her attention immediately when she passed by.

She flicked one of the pearls, then smoothed out a fold with a defeated expression. Normally, she would not have hesitated to just grab the cloth and bolt, and when the shopkeeper had first eyed her with that hawkish, disdainful expression Kestrel knew all to well, that was exactly what she had planned to do. But now, another feeling crept in, keeping her nailed to the floor as the woman fussed over various fabrics. Was it guilt? Despite her initial impression, the woman had not turned Kestrel away at the door, and had in fact barely hesitated to bring the bolt of pearl-studded fabric out to show her, despite the fact that Kestrel knew it was all too clear she didn’t have the kind of money one would need for this kind of store. And now, she was trying her best to find something else, something just as good, even if she wasn’t quite succeeding. The old woman turned around with a few bolts of fabrics in her arms, the mauve organza, a soft, cream colored fabric that looked somewhat silken texture. A spring green fabric with a delicate white pattern. She placed them all on the table next to the blue fabric. Kestrel inspected them. They all looked nice enough, and she honestly didn’t know much about this stuff anyway. She could patch a shirt if she needed to, or maybe hem a pair of paints, but that was about as far as her skill with a needle went. The real artist was… 

Without even thinking, her hand had moved from the green fabric back to the blue. The woman sent her a sympathetic look. “Do you need it for something special?” she asked, her eyes once again inspecting Kestrel’s attire. From the bowler hat to the suspenders, to the worn, thigh-high boots, Kestrel wasn’t unstylish, but “delicate” and “pretty” was probably not words anyone would use to describe her, unlike the fabric she seemed so taken with. Kestrel glanced at the woman and pulled her hand back with a small sheepish nod. “Yeah, just a gift,” she mumbled with an apologetic smile. Why did she feel so awkward? The woman nodded. Then her brow furrowed, and with a surprising speed, she reached out and snatched Kestrel’s wrist, turning it over in her hand. Kestrel barely had time to react as the woman pushed the sleeve up to expose more of the tattoo that had peaked out under the white fabric. Crude, somewhat faded lines depicting a wolf in a stalking position appeared. The woman regarded it with an iron expression until Kestrel pulled her hand back and annoyed pulled the sleeve back down. She needed to be more careful now that she was back in Ishgard. In Limsa Lominsa or Ul’dah, the tattoo would likely have meant nothing to most people, but here, it was another story. “You run with the Ice Wolves?” she asked, her tone unreadable. Kestrel sighed. If the woman had hesitated to throw her out before, she probably wouldn’t for much longer. “Not anymore…” Kestrel’s tone was dismissive, her shoulders raising as she pushed her hands into her pocket. Maybe she should steal the fabric after all. Tonight perhaps, or another day. She blinked as the woman reached out and tilted her head up to look at her closer. “My... Graham’s sister, are you? Yes, I’ve heard of you.”

Kestrel blinked, surprised. They were well outside of the Wolves’ usual territory, and she doubted Graham would be able to demand protection money in this part of town. The woman’s expression softened. “Well, it was years ago,” she said. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen him. But you do look so much like him.” She let go of Kestrel’s face, inspecting her for a moment. “Tell you what. I owe Graham a favor, he was good to me once. Why don’t I give you a few yards of the blue fabric and you tell him to stop by for tea when you see him, yes?” Kestrel blinked again, stunned. This was not the kind of people she expected owing Graham favors, if that was what this could be called. She finally caught herself and nodded eagerly. “Of course. Thank you, if there’s anything I can ever do for you…” she rambled as the woman pulled out a pair of large, elegant silver scissors decorated with vines and flowers, and cut a line through the fabric. Then she folded it neatly, wrapping a piece of silk paper around it and putting it into a neat, rose-colored box before sending Kestrel a small smile. “Thank you, dear, I will keep that in mind, I am sure you are a person of many talents.” She handed Kestrel the box, and for a moment, Kestrel could have sworn she winked. She took the box with a sense of reverie, looking at it before sending the lady a wide grin and tipping her hat. 

When she left the store, it had started to snow.

Fabric Source

[eisforeidolon]

After watching the trailer of TW in was quite natural that Jensen would get some heat as somehow he has put himself into that spot but now things are again going out of hands. My dash is filled with posts like Jensen is backstabber, Jensen is cunt, Jensen is just like his unhinged fans, Jensen and Misha are no different etc... To an extent where it is frustrating. Maybe I am wrong to think like that, but I cannot dismiss someone without giving him benefit of doubts just by judging his one wrong decision. Also, Jared posted something supportive for Jensen, his stans think he did that because he is great and classy which is very much true- but also I believe he is smart enough not to extend his support over a backstabber if there was no mutual understanding between themselves regarding the scenario. Or he can do it to avoid controversy, I don't know if that was necessary. However, I was damn angry and frustrated on Jensen and still am, but haven't found any reason to think he is the worst person ever till now, but this kind of posts mentally forces to believe that which is tiring. It makes me think whether I am being blind to certain truths because I don't want to handle them, but also I don't want to be judgemental on someone I don't know for his offense on someone else because I necessarily don't know the whole story. It's a strange conflict. You are one of them most sane peoples of this fandom whi are extremely rare nowadays, so coming to you for rescue. Hope you don't mind.

I think it's important to remember that SPN fandom is ... really super extra about everything. Prequelgate both set off brand new conflict and brought a lot of previously subterranean stan resentment up to the surface.

I'll just say again, consider the biases of the blogs you're reading. Compare what they're saying to direct sources and available facts. Consider what seems reasonable given everything you know.

For example, when a blog talks about a new development, do they frequently leave details out that don't fit with their opinion? Do they state what are clearly their interpretations as facts? Do they drastically contradict themselves from one post to another, depending on what will spin better for a consistent underlying agenda? Is their response to what they're reacting to actually proportionate? Can they admit to even the possibility of being wrong? Do they spend a lot of time claiming to be superior and uninterested while constantly diving into the wank they're supposedly above and the topic they don't care about? Does their opinion depend on believing some kind of underlying reason that doesn't actually make much sense if you follow the logic through? Does their version of events require whoever they stan to be a moronic, helpless blob that needs their protection? Or whoever they don't to be an idiotic mustache-twirling villain?

I'm not going to tell you who or what to believe, but I think if you consider the overall picture any given blog is painting in terms of the factors above? It might help you determine how seriously you should actually be taking what they say. Especially when it doesn't agree with your own impressions from the original context without the extra stan spin on top. This fandom is full of a lot of very heavily invested, very opinionated people. A lot of whom have very specific pictures built up in their heads of who J2 and each J individually should be. I think it's good to examine other opinions, but in doing so it's very important to consider how much weight they actually deserve. I personally have no more interest in digging for hidden clues in J2's positive statements and interactions with each other since prequelgate to prove they're fake than I ever had in searching for clues in the show to secret hidden storylines.

One last consideration in terms of dealing with all the negativity? Despite considering myself a wank blog, I actually officially follow only a small handful of SPN blogs that are largely wank free. I enjoy interacting with a much wider circle of blogs, but sometimes I find it very helpful to be able to check into the fandom on my dash without also having to check in to the wank, if that makes sense.

[majorxmaggiexboy]

&& Strange Winter || A first  bit of Terror utter nonsense

Fandom: The Terror Characters: Goodsir, Crozier, Jopson Relationships: Gen Warnings: No seriousness and egregious lack of effort Summary: In which Crozier asks Goodsir to look into an unusual case.

*

“-Oh-”

Goodsir looked from his patient to his captain, who was grimacing even more than usual, and hesitated. Not that it seemed so terribly far-fetched on such a seemingly accursed voyage, but the more likely and more horrible must be ruled out first. Still, he dreaded to ask. “And you’re, ehm....you’re certain this is-” 

“Yes, Doctor Goodsir, or I wouldn’t have called for you,” Crozier snapped, “Don’t you think I know my steward?”

Well. To be fair, his own mother would have difficulty recognizing him in such a state. But the captain was clear-eyed and barely more than his usual irritable. Not deluded, then. The only other rational explanation left to grasp at was that some disaster had quietly occurred and this was the man’s grief leaving him in denial but....that was so unlike him that Goodsir was left with the far more unusual truth.

He returned his uneasy gaze to Jopson, who stared up at him, unblinking.

“And...do you know...how long has- - -?”

“-He’s been like this since early morning,” Crozier sighed, rubbing his temples with one hand and absently laying the other to his steward’s forehead. “Before you ask, no, I didn’t see anything. All was ordinary when I left him. Not half an hour later I returned and found...”

The captain’s vague gesture was most helpful.

“Were there no signs, that you can think of?” the anatomist asked, beginning his examination, “No complaints?” 

“I don’t think he knows how to complain, Doctor. Why? You have a theory?” 

He sounded almost impressed, but Goodsir shook his head, running careful hands along Jopson’s ribs and wincing at the hiss the motion provoked. “I’m afraid not,” he checked teeth and eyes next, though what for, he wasn’t certain. “It’s a habit. Asking. I can discern nothing other than a lack of obvious illness or injury, though there does appear to be some distress.”

There was a pause.

“Doctor Goodsir,” Crozier said flatly, “He was a man this morning, and is now a goddamn feline. Of course there is some distress.”

It did seem the most appropriate response. 

Crozier heaved another sigh, an action which the black and white cat atop his desk copied. “I know you won’t have a remedy,” he said at length, “And you can’t possibly know how long it’ll last or if it’s- - -in any case.” The faintest note of worry wavered him his voice, “Do you concur that this is, in fact, still Thomas Jopson?”

Goodsir looked again. He hadn’t known- didn’t know the man well enough to make any personal judgement, but professionally, and even without being any sort of expert on feline behavior...

“In my opinion,” he ventured, “Further observation will be required to determine the exact state of consciousness but, based upon the meow right after you said his name, I would tend to agree. At the very least, I doubt he is entirely a cat.”

Crozier nodded, satisfied. He looked down at the cat, showing a rare quarter smile. “I can’t say I’m not relieved, although I suppose you’ll be miserable being out of a job until you get back to normal.” 

If possible, the cat seemed to think deeply for a moment. It looked to Crozier with something of a plaintive trill, then to Goodsir with a shorter sound, first one ear flicking and then the tail-tip, before sitting up very straight. Now staring Crozier directly in the eyes, the cat reached with one silky black paw, tapped the captain’s arm two times, then hopped down from the desk and picked its only slightly wobbly way out of the room.

There was a pause.

Goodsir began cleaning his spectacles.

“I don’t believe any further observation will be needed after all. That is most definitely your man. But I will keep notes, all the same?”

“Aye,” Crozier nodded, still watching the door the cat had left through, “I may just do the same, myself.”

[fluxofthemouth]

@grimoirerat || reposting so it works with the new editor!

Everything between her waking and now was a blur. When, or even where, was this? Laying on the bed, staring up at the high, vaulted ceiling, Marcey forced herself to try and make sense of it all, and assemble something of a chronological order. She had expected a degree of confusion and brain fog, but this was beyond anything she had imagined or been warned about. The process of waking up was shrouded in a haze. She could barely recall voices, and the sensation of being moved.  Lights, bright and blinding. Vertigo that was so bad she felt like she was going to be sick. The oddest feeling of…bugs crawling all over her skin. ||| Malignant cells eradicated….kidney function returning to normal…osteolytic lesions healed… The computer screen beeped. |||Subject in stable condition… The nano-bugs had done their job. The doctor had his assistant return the woman to the examining room for inspection. Her vitals signs were stable, but she was experiencing markedly severe fatigue and mental confusion. This was to be expected, however the severity was surprising. She had been in cryogenic stasis for quite a while, he had been told, but the agents were not forthcoming with details. The lack of details wasn’t surprising. If the order had come from the Almighties, then that was all he needed to know. She was not the first long haul cryo patient he had seen (he recalled a fellow who had been in cryo for an impressive twenty years), and was certain the post-cryo syndrome would abate after a few days of recuperation, as was typically the case. He signed off on the charts. Marcey wondered how the cancer had been cured. If she had been told, she did not remember. The scientist in her tried to lodge a reminder in her thoughts to ask about it at her follow-up appointment with the doctor. If she had had a phone on her she would’ve written a note in her calendar to do so, like she had normally done in the past, but she had no such device (did they even still have phones?). Not that she would have anyone to call if she did have a phone, she thought. Except maybe the ‘social worker’. What was her name again? Marcey wracked her thoughts…Gloria something-or-other? “No, that’s most definitely NOT my name…”  Gloria Cherry looked down at her clipboard, and back to the woman sitting across from her. “Oh!” she exclaimed, “there must have been some mix up. We have you here as Stephanie Owens. My deepest apologies.” “Yeah, no, it’s Marcey. Marcey Velasquez.” the woman frowned in confusion.  Gloria smiled and re-assured Marcey that she would get the error fixed, but that it would take some time. “You know how slow bureaucracy can be,” she said. “In the meantime, you should rest up, I know you must’ve had a long day. Afterwards, I’d be happy to help show you around, and get you settled into your new life here.” Marcey wondered just how much had changed since she’d entered cryosleep. Surely it wouldn’t be so different that Gloria would need to do much ‘showing around’. The estimate had only maxed out around fifteen years, after all. Eventually, Marcey found she couldn’t think much more, she was just too tired. Exhausted, even. Her last thought before drifting off to sleep was how ironic it was that after being unconscious in cryo for god knows how long, all she wanted to do was sleep. Later, Marcey was awoken by a knocking on the door. In her half sleep, it seemed for a moment that she was back home, in a time before the war and before the cancer. She almost called out for her wife to please answer the door for her. The next knocks were louder, and brought her further back into consciousness. Groggily, the unfamiliar surroundings came into view, and with it the sinking realization that she was not, in fact, home. She was far from it, both in time and location. Victoria was long dead and would not be answering the door. 

The specialist is explaining a poster; an illustrated cross section of a human head, highlighting the brain and the nervous system, among other things.

"So the nanobots... construct a small signal processing center here," she explains uncomfortably, pointing to a structure inside the illustrated man's head. "It can detect and copy the signals that come in from the eyes. We'll also have the nanobots construct a kind of wire that runs from there to... well, you could put it anywhere, but most of the time we run it to the back of your neck." She points to another structure. "The control panel... uh, it sits, invisibly, just under the skin, and it reacts to pressure. So it works just like... just like you're pressing invisible buttons. There are two controls. One turns the feed on and off. The other controls whether the signal, any signal if it's there, is transmitted wirelessly to this controller device that you keep in your pocket. And that's... it's your real control panel, where you can program options. Like, you could send the data to an app on a phone, or send it somewhere else. There's no sound, unless you connect a microphone, or use nanobots to make another processing center to pick up the data that you pick up with your ears, but we already... talked about that, yeah."

"Very good," Piter says. He's dressed respectably, sitting with his legs crossed casually. To a casual observer, he might look less like someone attending a consultation for an invasive procedure, and more like someone who is giving the specialist an interview (which she is failing). "And most people feel no difference, after it's been done? And the chances of permanent blindness are under ten percent?"

"Yes, and... under five percent for patients under 50, but..." the specialist taps her foot thoughtfully, as she tries to figure out the best way to word what's on her mind.

"But what, my dear?" Piter says, with a dash of compassion, for flavor.

"Well... it's just that you work closely with the Almighties," the specialist says. "And I don't see a message in your chart that they want you to have this done for a specific reason...? Besides, we don't usually recommend... for anything you could accomplish with something like... this, surely a simple camera would be much more -"

"Ahh." Piter uncrosses his legs, leans forward, and lowers his voice. "You suspect that I may have reasons of my own, which they might not like," he says, nodding sympathetically. "You're afraid they could take your license away if you accidentally get mixed up in some bad business you didn't even know about. You consider that they might even kill you."

The specialist looks quietly shocked, to hear such things spoken out loud, but she nods.

Piter smiles gently. "My dear, I am so sorry to put this burden on you... even a burden of a maybe. I can assure you that there is less of a chance that any of those things would happen than there is of me going blind. I know what I'm doing! I take care of myself. You'd only be in trouble if I was already in deeper trouble. Right? So relax! I'm not going to let that happen." He tilts his head slightly, raises an eyebrow, smiles with more amusement. "In fact, I can tell you right now how your choice is a lot simpler than it might look." His tongue darts over his upper lip. He looks away. He looks back. He is not smiling. "It's that if you don't give me what I want, I'm definitely going to kill you."

***

When Marcey opens the door, no one is there. But there is a small package on her porch. Inside is a device like a smart phone; a device that a knowledgeable citizen might recognize as a cheap burner phone of this era. When she turns it on, she will find that it isn't even programmed to make phone calls. It only contains one app.

With the phone is a small, typed note. It reads:

Be careful who sees this, my dear! -π

By the time Gloria comes over the next day, Marcey may have seen a fantastic and terrible squid-like being through another's eyes.

[alheria]

Fresh wind on a hot day (3/9)

*Hey, it's Buck! I really wanted to wait a day or two before texting, but turns out I can't stop thinking about you. U free on Sunday? I almost suggested a hike, lol. Not with that ankle, huh? Next time then! How does chilling on the beach sound? 🥰*

Jim couldn't stop reading the message over and over again, every time feeling fucking butterflies wreak havoc in his poor stomach.

Buck asked him on a date.

Not even five hours after they parted their ways.

Took him nearly twenty minutes to respond, overthinking every single word he wrote to make sure it didn't somehow sound stupid. Which totally made him feel like a teenager interacting with their first crush. So what? It was reasonably overwhelming that he managed to impress someone so much, they wanted to see him again on their next day off. And the fact that person happened to be a handsome, likeable Alpha firefighter only added more stress to the raging anxiety fire.

Street couldn't even remember the last time he was on an actual date. Perhaps it was the awful one last year. Tan was bothering him for ages to meet with some gay cousin of his good friend, so to once and for all make him shut up, he agreed. It was a horrible mistake. That Alpha dude, who was apparently a very respectable neurosurgeon, clearly wanted to own a what he called "a rare object" in a form of a jacked, intimidating Omega working a manly job. This statement, voiced barely fifteen minutes after they met, left the officer utterly speechless. He was baffled by how confident in his deep arrogance that man must have been to say such offensive bullshit with absolute nonchalance. Just...wow. Tan was obviously fired from any further matchmaking, and all Jim's following encounters were purely physical because he had no mental strength left to deal with some people's stupidity. He really hoped the upcoming one won't be another disappointment, which was an odd thing to suspect since they already spent a significant amount of quality time together. Still, Street was nervous. 

The next three days of doing absolutely nothing productive, because he was on that stupid medical leave, were a constant struggle as Jim couldn't fully focus on anything, too distracted by his Sunday plans. It was not clear what the exact idea was until Saturday evening, so various speculations filled his forced freedom. Not a single was correct, but at least the daydreaming killed the time.

Beer and sunset was what Buck suggested. How convenient, those were Street's two favourite things. Unfortunately, it also meant the firefighter wouldn't come to pick him up before the afternoon, which equalled lots of silly anxiety amplified by Luca being at work, thus not providing much-needed distraction. Fucking hell.

To muffle the ruckus in his head, the officer had to turn for help to the ultimate brain-numbing activity: watching reality TV. It's something Chris made him do on their days off before she moved in with Amelia and even after, the habit stayed, doing wonders to his noisy brain. So, hopefully dressed adequately for the occasion, he sat on the couch and fully immersed himself in a silly show until someone loudly knocked on the door, startling him terribly.

Fuck.

He lost track of time.

Nervously shaking only a teeny-tiny bit, Jim opened the door and almost whined when his stomach did a flip. No way that guy looked better than last time. How is that even possible?! Why is he so damn hot?!

-Hi there. Ready? -Buck asked softly, a wide smile instantly brightening his handsome face. 

Nope. Not at all. Can we cancel and forget we ever met?

-Yeah. -Street lied, quickly going back to grab his almost forgotten phone. -You alright Buck? You look tired. -observed upon returning, without thinking cupping the younger man's cheek and gently rubbing it as he examined the darkness prominent under the blue eyes. 

-Might get better in a sec! -informed the firefighter, pulling the Omega into a long hug, with nose pressed to his neck, deeply inhaling the comforting scent. Jim could clearly feel when the tense muscles slowly started to relax in the tight embrace. -I had the longest shift ever yesterday, can't wait to forget all about it. People can be really stupid sometimes. -explained vaguely once they parted.

-Tell me about it. -Jim rolled his eyes, turning away to lock the door. -Most of the people I get to "meet" are not only stupid, but also armed. Idiots and guns do not mix well. -he sighed, shaking his head in disapproval. -Let's go?

The whole drive to the beach, they talked about everything and nothing, mostly work related anecdotes interrupted by Buck's shockingly bad singing. It felt so natural to be around him, like if they met years ago, not a few days. There was no tension, no awkwardness, just pure comfort between them. Even on arrival, as they walked towards their destination and the Alpha casually held his hand, it didn't feel weird at all. Which was actually strange, since the officer was not used to the romantic part of intimacy, never experienced anything "relationship like", so this whole situation should be throwing him off. But it somehow wasn't.

They sat down on a blanket thrown over the sand, cracked open the cold beers and in complete silence enjoyed the beautiful view of an orange orb vibrantly glowing from behind the pinkish clouds, hanging over the horizon, nearly touching the line of calm water splashing lazily near them. The wind was a little chilly at this hour, although nicely refreshing, ruffling their hair with its slow gushes as their shoulders met, exchanging pleasant warmth. Watching that breathtaking sunset next to the most incredible person he's ever met was truly a dream come true. A dream that seemed too good to be reality. 

-Buck, why are you single? -Street blurted out of the blue, unable to contain curiosity any longer. He had to know what is wrong with that seemingly incredible man before they moved any further with this relation. 

-Ugly truth? -the firefighter chuckled after taking in a fairly deep breath. Street only nodded in response. -Well...for the past few years I've been hopelessly in love with my best friend and work partner Eddie. Ever since we met, and he introduced me to his amazing kid, Chris, I desperately wanted to be a part of this beautiful family, have those two incredible boys all to myself. Even if it meant giving up on my dream of having kids on my own. Eddie is a Beta, y'know? He had a wife, but she died last year. Anyway, for the longest time I've been hiding those feelings to not ruin our friendship, until one day I started noticing we've gotten closer than any friends should be. Around five months ago, I finally stopped lying to myself and everyone in our team, for whom it was obvious there is something between us. I told him how I truly feel, and he said that despite having feelings for me, he's not ready to start another serious relationship just yet. That's why I am single, Jim. I was too busy waiting for Eddie to change his mind. To let me love him. 

And, oh.

Jim could feel his heavy heart drop all the way to the ground.

And then Buck grabbed his fucking hand and squeezed it so tenderly it almost made him cry like a fucking baby because suddenly it started to feel like he chose him over the possible love of his life and all the chaotic thoughts of being a temporary replacement or a rebound or whatever else instantaneously vanished.

-I'm done waiting. -the Alpha smiled, fondly looking at the cop with those bright, blue eyes, and Street just melted. -Few weeks before we me met, I decided it's enough. My patience has officially run out, and I am more than ready to move on. -he assured, probably sensing or even seeing the Omega's already fading distress. -What about you? Why are you single, Jim?

Oh Lord. Why didn't he think beforehand that this question might absolutely shoot right back at him? Dammit.

Ugly truth, huh?

Very ugly indeed.

-I...almost killed someone once. -he whispered after gathering the much-needed courage, his jaw impossibly tense as he stared at the darkened waves. -It was back at the police academy. Everyone except me in my class was either a Beta or an Alpha, so they were giving me a pretty hard time, trying to force me to quit because apparently Omegas have no place in the force. I was changing by my locker one day when out of nowhere that one especially obsessed with harassing me fucker showed up behind my back, said "Maybe I should make you my obedient little bitch." and bit my neck. Hard. I fucking lost it. Next thing I remember is him lying on the ground, blood all over my hands, his face beaten into a pulp. They told me he developed a severe brain bleed, couldn't become a cop afterwards. And I couldn't trust any Alpha anymore, in fear they will try to forcefully make me "normal", an obedient little bitch. -revealed, quickly wiping a single tear rolling down his cheek. -If I am not interested in Betas and wary of Alphas, who do I date, huh? -Jim laughed nervously, not daring to gaze at the other man out of  unnecessary embarrassment. He's never told that story to anyone but Chris. She was furious.

-Damn, and I thought, I'm a hot mess. -Buck whistled, swiftly pulling the cop into his arms. -Guess we both are. -sighed, resting his cheek on the top of the other man's head.

-Not quite. I'm definitely hotter. -joked the officer, shifting himself to look at that pretty, slightly concerned face.  

-I'll give you that one. -chuckled the firefighter, capturing Street's lips in a quick kiss. -Fuck, Jim, you make me wanna keep you.

-You like damaged goods? -the Omega snorted in response, entangling his fingers into those soft blond strands.

-Duh! -Buck exclaimed. -No one should pretend they're perfect. It's really cool that you're not afraid to share your truth. -added with a wide smile, making Jim feel dizzy from all the affection he's been receiving. There is nothing more pleasantly overwhelming than being held by your crush while they tell you they wish to be with you. Nothing.

-Keep me then. -he offered. -I enjoy you Buck, a lot, actually. Even though we barely know each-other, around you I finally feel truly respected and...safe. It's not like I'm one hundred percent sure we would work, but I'd love to at least try. You don't have to respond... -tried to explain, but got promptly interrupted by a rather possessive kiss. -...right now.

-Are you for real?! -shouted the younger man, gazing at the officer in pure disbelief, his watery eyes sparkling with raw happiness.

-Do you seriously want me to repeat those most cringeworthy words I've ever said? -Street frowned, trying very hard not to blush after realizing what he's just shamelessly confessed. Buck laughed in response before leaning down to kiss his boyfriend one more time, stopping for a second to whisper:

-I'll take it as a yes.

---

They stayed on the beach until it got dark and too cold for sitting there in thin hoodies, the chill crawling under their skins despite being in close contact. Driven by the desire to go somewhere warmer, the two of them literally stormed through the apartment door, like some horny teenagers unable to stop touching even for a moment all the way back there.

Plastered to the wall, Street could barely breathe as their tongues mixed, unbelievably hungry and equally needy as their lower parts. Already hard in his pants, he hopelessly thrust into Buck's matching erection, causing him to growl and suddenly break the kiss.

-Carry me upstairs? -Jim immediately requested, wrapping his muscular arms around the taller man's neck, gently brushing the silky hair.

-Didn't you say you would let me do it only that one time? -chuckled the Alpha, firmly grabbing onto the sturdy hips while gazing into those foggy, starving eyes looking at him expectantly as they stood there pressed together, their dicks desperate to get some heavenly friction.

-Well, in my defense, I didn't plan on seeing you more than once. -revealed the cop blushing subtly. He certainly didn't predict they would meet ever again, let alone start dating, and was pretty sure it was a mutual feeling. Because who could've possibly predicted them instantly clicking? No one.

-Ouch! -Buck whined dramatically before obediently slipping his large palms under the beefy thighs and effortlessly picking his boyfriend up. -Are you aware you're not the lightest person in the world?

-Aren't you firefighters supposed to be like...super strong? -teased the Omega, tightening the legs around his lover to put pressure on their aroused cocks while the younger man hurried them to the bedroom. -You're gonna save on gym with me.

-I have free gym at work! -the firefighter giggled, carefully putting Jim back on the floor. -I do like that you are so ripped tho. It's really fucking hot. -added, unexpectedly pushing the officer onto the bed that creaked dangerously under his weight.

-Did I perhaps hit a nerve? -Street hummed after quickly recovering from the initial shock of being violently shoved. Buck only snorted in response and swiftly took off his white hoodie, soon joined by the bottoms on the ground. Gloriously naked, he then climbed over his fully dressed boyfriend and instead of helping him get rid of the itching material, focused on marking the round jaw with kisses. The cop whimpered in annoyance, desperately needing complete skin to skin contact, not merely a hint. His hands erratically wandered along the uncovered spine, gently caressed the warm flesh as his lover made him squirm, bruising the extremely sensitive neck. But still, it was simply not enough. So, he grabbed a fistful of golden hair and yanked them. Not too hard to cause any pain, but enough to grab attention.

-Buck, sweetheart, if you don't start fucking me anytime soon, I'll probably lose my mind. -he groaned, looking right into the visibly darkened, slightly surprised blue eyes that instantly widened upon hearing Jim's complaint. 

-On it. -assured the Alpha, and as promised began to undress him, starting with the hoodie. Once it was gone, Street shivered from the rapid change in temperature, the colder air unpleasantly licked the burning skin. Seeing the tremble, the firefighter started kissing his chest, tender pecks one by one led a trail all the way to the strained pants he easily pulled down, revealing the soaked underwear hiding the prominent erection. Jim was so hard it was physically uncomfortable. A loud moan escaped him when the suffocating penis finally got some air. Even louder one when Buck confidently licked it from the very bottom up to the leaking tip. The moment it disappeared in its entirety inside the velvety mouth was so intense, everything instantly went dark. He could only feel the utter ecstasy and hear himself produce the most shameful, erotic sounds forced out by his dick being skillfully sucked. There was no doubt he would not last long. The orgasm was approaching quickly, fueled by two fingers entering him in preparation for the main event. When they spread open, that did it, came on the spot, pressing deep into Buck's throat.

-Sorry. You okay, baby? -Street asked, seeing the younger man cough once he pulled away, his eyes visibly watery. -C'mere. -he ordered, extending an arm towards his boyfriend, who eagerly lied down on the heavily breathing chest, inhaling the familiar scent until the fact he was yet to release started bothering the recovering officer. -I'm pretty sure I mentioned something about fucking me. -he whispered suggestively, laying a gentle kiss on the sweaty forehead, more than ready to resume the fun.

That's all Buck needed to hear. Joining their lips, he pushed himself up and shifted to comfortably fit between Jim's spread legs. Without them parting, the Alpha lined his coming back to life penis with the loosened opening and effortlessly slid right in, completely filling the incredibly hot, twitching insides.

-Fuck, you feel so good. -he huffed, withdrawing a little before thrusting back in, his moves shallow to avoid falling out of the immensely wet hole. The Omega could feel his cock harden again as the other man began the unrushed rhythm and leaned down to bury his nose in the fragrant neck, nibbling on the skin from time to time. It was ecstatic, having such a sensitive body part played with, marked subtly by someone he truly cared for. He wrapped his arms around Buck and lightly grazed the arching spine while the firefighter's penis rubbed the throbbing prostate. Their mixed groans and moans started to slowly increase, but neither of them was interested in ending it fast. The new couple wanted to enjoy themselves. So, in tight embrace they leisurely followed the blissful release's path until the friction became unbearable, overwhelmed all the senses and forced the powerful orgasms out.

Later on, they curled up together, aching terribly, however insanely happy. Street had a hard time dozing off, tormented by disbelief in what has happened over the past few days. He met a guy in the weirdest situation possible, randomly saw him at the bar on the same day, slept with him, and then, after barely one date, became his fucking boyfriend. How crazy was that?! And even though it surely sounded insane, Jim didn't care in the slightest, being reverently held by a man who made him laugh was all that mattered, and he couldn't wait to get to properly know him.

The first "new" thing he learned was that he did not like waking up alone in someone else's house. Still half asleep, he rolled over, reached for his phone and with a good yawn checked the time. 9:17. Now it made sense - Buck's shift started over an hour ago. He couldn't believe he slept through him getting ready for work, and that he was even allowed to do so. Maybe they were together now, however, it was quite odd to let someone you barely know stay in your home without supervision. At least that's what Street thought. Not really keen on doing anything after having quite a night, it took him another forty minutes to get himself out of the comfortable, pleasantly smelling bed into the shower and then downstairs for a coffee. To his surprise, on the kitchen island, a single key lied next to a vibrantly pink note neatly folded in half with his name written on it, containing the cutest, most heart-warming message he's ever received:

Dearest boyfriend ♡

Work :(

Stay as long as you want!

Close the door pls

Jim couldn't stop a fond, intrusive smile from growing as he kept looking at the piece of paper.

That man's adorable sincerity surely will be the death of him. 

[opticalsuperstore1]

The Eyes Have It—Finding an Optometrist Near Me

You've probably had this conversation (or something closely resembling this) before: You're looking for a new mechanic, a new hairdresser, a new butcher.

Unfortunately, you've had a poor experience (perhaps more than one), and you don't want to deal with the hassle any longer—we've all been there. We feel your pain.

Three expensive trips now, and the car still has that weird rattle. Unfortunately, that new haircut makes you look like a pork chop. But, of course, you know all about average pork chops because the last bunch from your local butcher tasted weird, and the butcher shrugged it off.

Along comes Aunty Such-and-such, or So-and-so from across the road, and you get to talking about it (whilst trying to hide your outrageous hair-do under a baseball cap).

What do they all say—every time?

'Your car needs a service? You must see my mechanic! See my guy!'

'Let me call my hairdresser... she'll fix that up straight away!'

'Porkchops? Do you want the best pork chop you've ever tasted? I've got a pork chop, guy!'

Word of mouth is powerfully effective, and a verbal testimony goes a long way. And, if it's from someone we know and trust? Even further.

Finding eye-care professionals is often at the top of the list. Perhaps you've needed someone that can help with a demanding prescription? Or someone that genuinely knows how to adjust spectacle frames properly?

Often, a popular search term on Google is 'An Optometrist Near Me.'

(I think the list unofficially goes; hairdresser, barista, mechanic, then florist. Of course, finding a top-notch optometrist usually pops up next... then porkchop guy. But it's subjective to what you need then and there, right?)

We soon learn where the avoidable coffee/haircuts are.

But, how do you tell the reliable, thorough, and available optometrist apart from the others?

Optometry in general and the optical industry wholly rest on two key elements. We could illustrate it by talking about two arms--a right arm and a left arm. There's the healthcare arm and the retail arm.

Today, the healthcare component of a comprehensive eye test is stabilised by several giant steps forward in technology, data-tracking, record keeping and analysis. This tech, coupled with the understanding of a patient and attentive optometrist, can make your next appointment for an eye examination almost a joy!

Why 'almost?' Because of the other arm.

Outside of the testing room, where it was all about the important part: the healthcare, you've just resigned yourself to push through the big sales pitches. You simply don't have a thousand dollars to spend on prescription eyewear anymore (did we ever?)

Do you also laugh off the suggested spectacle frame designs you wouldn't want to be caught dead in? It's like the haircut thing all over again. Not to mention sneakily adding in a suggestion of requesting a copy of your prescription? It almost feels like begging, right?

Sometimes it feels like an optical minefield out there.

But then, one day, something transformative happens.

Before working up the resolve to return to the same-old practice, you hear word from a trusted friend of an optical business that does things differently. The optometrists who conduct tests onsite are independent professionals: their eye-testing timetable is not hinging on making sales, which means that there is no practice of compelling you into a purchase you may not need.

Not only that, but the support staff on hand know their craft, too. This trusted friend of yours shows you their new pair of glasses, fitting well and giving them excellent vision results for all their needs. But that wasn't what impressed them. It was the fact that the staff member took the time to fix an issue with their old glasses. They may have replaced the nose pads and cleaned the frame. Or maybe they fitted their temples properly behind their ears for the first time, ever?

(You don't recall the details. You just remember this friend of yours was ecstatic about the service.)

"I've got a glasses, guy!" they say. "You've got to go there next time. You need to ask for my optometrist. She is the best!"

And a few weeks later, you do. But, most importantly, your experience mirrored your friend's experience. It wasn't a fluke. You learn through your visit that the business makes its mission to repeatedly offer the highest level of customer service, personalised attention and medical/eye-health care. Day after day, for every pair of eyes.

You're watching families come and go, offering the sincerest thank yous and leaving the biggest smiles. It's impressive - why? Because you didn't think it could be like this.

But it is. And, you're here for it!

The Optical Superstore proudly wave both arms and uses them unitedly: The vital healthcare environment and the retail space.

These two vital areas come together to provide comprehensive eye testing services and a superb range of spectacle frames, sunglasses and prescription lens options for the whole family. Did you know? The Optical Superstore is proudly 100% Australian-owned and operated. Nation-wide, the independent optometrists working onsite offer bulk-billed eye tests.

Have you been worried about making the switch to a new eye-care professional? Perhaps you've caught yourself wondering if there is an optometrist near me worth your time and energy.

Let's face it. It can be all-too-easy to put eye care, eye tests and trips to an optometrist on the back burner. For one thing, our eyes aren't rattling like a dodgy timing belt. And, you'll certainly not settle for a lousy coffee a second time.

The Optical Superstore stands by a simple motto:

SUPER SERVICE | SUPER SAVINGS

We invite you and your family to experience this ‘SUPER’ in action for yourselves. We make eye-testing easier, prescription eyewear more affordable and ongoing support a pleasure to experience.

Get started with our online booking timetable, or check out the latest range of frames with our Virtual Try-On program.

Click on the links below to get started.

Also, we're only a phone call away.

The Optical Superstore doesn't like doing things with a big song and dance, and we love working hand-in-hand.

We're all about honest, reliable, and affordable optical assistance. With 60+ locations Australia-wide, give your local branch of Optical Superstore a call. Your eyes will thank you for it!

...And we could probably help you out with a great coffee suggestion, too, if need be!

[percontaion-points]

Covet chapters 56-59

Click to see the rest of the snark & image descriptions

Chapter 56

“Yes, I definitely smell the gargoyle in you, but…” She sniffs again. “I was referring to something else. Something much more ancient. What were your parents?” 

I’m so surprised by her question, I answer without thinking. “My father was a warlock, but my mother was just a human.” 

Her eyes narrow. “Hmm. Was she now?”

This is the second time Grace’s mom has been brought up by outside people. This is 100% going to become relevant. 

He just laughs a little and presses a hand to the small of my back as he guides me to a giant redwood on the outskirts of the market, a huge wooden sign hanging from a branch that proudly proclaims: Soli Tree.

Chapter 56 summary: Hudson keeps pressing the giant, who eventually says that the giant’s window occasionally dabbles in her husband’s old work. She might be able to help them out. Since they’re on the subject of young love, the giant turns to Grace and asks if this is the girl. She sniffs Grace and asks what her parents were. She hesitates for a moment, but eventually lets it pass.

The group leaves the treehouse, and continues on to a giant market. Hudson asks their host about the tree the other giant had mentioned. Their host says that the jewellery found in the soli tree is for eternal love, so you’d better be careful. However, this only disheartens Grace in their quest to remove the unkillable beast’s chains. Jaxon suggests that they should split up to “cover more ground”, which is his way of dealing with their host so that Hudson and Grace can go do what needs to be done. Despite the fact that their host has a huge crush on Jaxon, and this means he’d have to be alone with her. 

Chapter 57

I just hope I don’t end up with tire tracks on my heart.

Chapter 57 summary: They find the soli tree, and it’s filled with jewellery, exactly as described by everybody else. They see magic cuffs, but more in the size of a regular human, and not for the unkillable beast. Hudson tries to ask who made them, if she does any custom work, but when he pushes the sales lady too hard, Grace has to step in and stop him. 

They then do this bit where they’re looking at rings, and Hudson buys Grace one using giant money. Grace keeps telling herself over and over that it’s nothing but the mating bond, but I’m not sure that it’s working for her. 

Hudson then tells Grace to play along and trust him, and Grace pretends to throw a tantrum over being able to get a cuff. 

Chapter 58

“I hope she’s nice,” I whisper as we finally reach the stairs at the bottom of the tree. But before we can so much as begin to scale the first step— which is several feet off the ground—the very unmistakable sound of someone weeping drifts down the stairs right at us.

Chapter 58 summary: Hudson’s plan is to examine the cuffs that the widow made, and find the artist’s name on it. Which they get. Hudson insists that these cuffs aren’t quite right, but the sales lady is distracted by new customers showing up. 

The two of them leave, and Grace feels weird with the promise ring Hudson had bought her. She wants to ask what’s been promised, but decides not to. Instead, they wander the market as they look for the others. The giants keep giving them free food samples. Which normally wouldn’t be a problem, but giant portions are HUGE. (Grace said that a cupcake was the size of a 3-layer cake to human eyes.) So she eats so much that she ends up getting a little sick. (Hudson can’t eat because he’s a vampire.)

They meet up with the others, except for Macy and Jaxon, who are still distracting their host. They make fun of Grace’s promise ring, except for Eden, who only seems more than a little sceptical about the entire thing. 

They head out to the residential area, and are impressed with the foresight of the giants to carve rooms into different sections of the giant trees. They reach the tree where the lady lives, only to realize that the treehouse is sick… but not in the way that you’d think it would be. As they approach the door, they hear crying from inside. 

Chapter 59

Apparently, Falia has decided to come to us.

Chapter 59 summary: They try to climb the stairs to the front door, but they all keep getting shoved back down by the stairs themselves. When it’s Grace’s turn to try, she touches the railing, and realizes that the tree is emotionally linked to the widow, and the tree is crying out with the anguish of being separated from her mate for so long. Grace wonders if this is what’s going to happen to her if she and Hudson have to be separated. 

Grace suddenly starts to doubt why they’re there. She’s more concerned with the wounded feelings of a grieving woman than in saving Hudson’s life. 

But then the woman comes out. 

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[its-deputy-caleb]

Hiii, could i have a request for how the gang members would react to meeting a historian or explorer in the wild?? thank you! I love your blogs sm!!

anon ily <3333 i went wayy overboard with these but i regret nothing bc this was soo cute and fun to write. I hope u enjoy and i made it gn for everyone. I only did the VDL boys for this but if enough ppl like it i might do the girls with something similar idk yet?

Dutch Van Der Linde

Dutch first laid eyes on you when you were hanging off the edge of a cliff after slipping when you got too close to the edge. He immediately ran over to you, helping you off the cliff and getting you settled back on your feet.

He seemed genuinely concerned and agreed to help you safely record the rock carving that was on the side of the cliff face, keeping you from falling.

You were a historian and had been studying these mysterious rock carvings after meeting an equally mysterious man, Francis Sinclair.

You didn’t see much of Dutch Van Der Linde after that until you ran into him again in Saint Denis in the saloon. He remembered who you were instantly and started up a conversation about your work where you chatted away for hours.

You became very close after that and he often accompanied you to Museums and fancy fundraisers that you were invited to.

He’d always get dressed up and complimented your finer outfits which was such a difference to the field gear you’d have on. You’d spend all night chatting away over nice champagne and dancing together before actually engaging with other guests but you didn’t have a care in the world with Dutch in your life.

Arthur Morgan

Arthur finds you standing in the middle of a field, flipping over rocks and staring numbly at what appeared to be a map in your hands.

When he approached you he soon learnt you were a young amateur explorer about to get your big break with a treasure hunt but you couldn’t find the gold bars for the life of you.

Arthur gave you a heart warming smile and held up a gold bar after retrieving it from his satchel having felt a little bad that he’d discovered it not a week before you.

The two of you laughed about it, calling yourself a fool for trying to find it for so long when it was clearly missing— the thought that someone took it clearly never crossed your mind.

Arthur was always a gentleman however and promised to make it up to you. After taking you to dinner and getting to know him better, you spent the next few days camping out and finding a new treasure together.

You travelled through caves and through valleys of flowers to find this treasure. Sometimes it was so beautiful that the two of you just stopped by a stream to let your horses rest and enjoy the scenery.

When you finally found the treasure you gave Arthur a big hug in excitement which caught him by surprised but he happily returned. He let you keep the treasure and wished you luck with more exploring but of course that wasn’t the last time you saw Arthur again.

Charles Smith

Charles meets you one day while you’re out surveying wildlife. You specialised in conservation, wanting to study and protect animal species.

Fresh out of the university from Saint Denis you’d been dying to get out of the confining city and explore the heartlands. That’s where a kind gentleman named Charles Smith had offered to protect you and show you around the herds of bison you’d taken to studying.

You spent days together riding the over the hills and following the herd as they travelled. While you were Charles told you all about his family and the respect and love they have for the beautiful creatures.

It was amazing the array of knowledge Charles knew about bison and you couldn’t stop the smile on your face as he told you about the characteristics of the bison. You rushed to take notes in your journal, knowing that all that he told you would help you study and protect these animals.

“Do you think it’ll actually do any good? The work you’re doing?”

“One can only hope Mr.Smith but I will do everything in my ability to protect such beautiful creatures.”

Even when you had to return to the city for study you constantly wrote to Charles, staying in touch and keeping him updated with all your work. It was hard to say goodbye to someone you’d grown close to but you made regular visits to each other long after that.

John Marston

You first found John in the saloon after a long day at work, in desperate need of a drink. Being a zoologist you instantly noticed the scars on his face and would’ve guessed a wolf was the animal that caused the damage.

The two of you instantly started up a conversation and shared all kinds of stories. He told you about being up on the mountain while you showed him the scar on your arm from your run in with a cougar.

You were collecting a compendium of all the animals across the heartlands and during the months you worked on it, you ran into John more than once.

He was always curious about your work and you often spent time together in the afternoon sun, showing him the animals you’d found so far.

“What about the stray dogs in town or do you only deal with cougars and wolves?”

“Well they’re animals too aren’t they not?”

Even though you couldn’t see John all the time, he often came along with you to see the wildlife and covered you when you were around particularly dangerous animals and you enjoyed every second you had with him.

Micah Bell

When Micah met you he had absolutely no idea what you were on about. In his mind the whole idea of a palaeontologist is ridiculous and made up, much less the fact that you chose to read books and study in your spare time.

At first he doesn’t do anything but mock your work but after running into you time and time again he finally started to come around.

He grew more and more curious when he saw the drawings in your sketch books of dinosaurs and even more so when he laid eyes on the fossils. But knowing Micah, he’s still incredibly stubborn.

“Ain’t no way that thing is real.”

“One needs an open mind to comprehend what’s prehistoric Mr.Bell. It requires a certain practice.”

Every so often on your work you’d run into Micah who’d be riding around on his horse, just passing by. By now you’d consider him a friend and your face lit up as he pulled a small ammonite fossil from his bag.

It wasn’t really your area of expertise but you could tell he wanted to impress you and seemed almost nervous as you examined the fossil. Nonetheless you could tell it was real and you let him keep the small fossil as a reminder of you until the next time you saw him.

Javier Escuella

Javier meets you when you’re down my the docks, trying to capture the sunlight and noticed him fishing.

Not wanting to disturb him you kept out of his hair until you heard him cheer loudly at a catch he managed to pull in. In your particular interest in animals, you couldn’t help but ask if you could take a photo of the fish he’d caught.

From then on the two of you became friends, often running into each other as you tried to capture landscapes and wildlife.

You’d always spend the day together and you’d show him how to use a camera while he showed you how to fish and play the guitar.

When you spent time apart you’d often write to each other to fill the gap. You’d always send pictures with little writing on the back of them while he sent you poems and songs that he wrote for you, promising to play them for you next time you’d meet.

In your personal journal you have the first picture you ever took of Javier, kept safe between the pages. He’s standing along the docks, facing the away from the water as he holds up a large sturgeon and a large smile.

You and Javier always stay in touch and after he told you of his chaotic and dangerous time in guarma he made light of it by telling you about all the different wildlife he saw while he was there.

Bill Williamson

Bill stumbles upon you in the wild by accident. He’s out scouting a lead when he ended up getting lost through the shrubbery and found you examining flowers closely.

When you told him you were a botanist he looked as if you’d just spoken a different language to him because he didn’t have a clue as to what that meant. Bill always made you laugh fondly at the confused look when you told him all the scientific names of flowers.

In Bill’s mind, a flower was a flower. There was purple flowers and blue flowers and even red ones but they didn’t have their own names.

The next time Bill ran into you he brought you what he thought was a bouquet of white flowers. Instead they were actually a species of weed that was poisonous when eaten but it didn’t stop you from smiling and hugging him which was the intended purpose.

In light of that incident Bill was actually curious about some plants, trying to learn about them more. When Bill went exploring with you he pointed out some of his favourites and you picked a few to put them in the brim of his hat for him to take him back to camp.

When you run into him again Bill tries to give you another flower, this time actually understanding the plant he’d picked was a Vanilla Flower Orchid or the Vanilla planifolia but he never learnt how to pronounce it unlike you.

With a high blush Bill placed the flower behind your ear and you pulled him into a hug, being careful not to crush the beautiful flower.