#it’s not from my own study so it’s not really my field of research and idk the expectations

[gigabyte-flare]

Insatiable (Part 1)

Summary: You are a researcher for D.S.O. who is responsible for studying Leon Kennedy as Las Plagas overtakes him, maybe even finding a cure. He starts to take a liking to you, too much of a liking to you.

Word Count: 2k

Pairing: yandere plagas!Leon Kennedy x fem!reader (afab)

Disclaimer: This story is a work of fiction. Actions depicted in this story are not condoned in real life. You are responsible for your own content consumption. If any of the following warnings trigger you, please read at your own risk. Minors do not interact, this story is 18+ only.

Warnings: Extreme violence and gore, biting, dubcon, forced breeding, gross las plagas-y things, death, mentions of un-aliving. DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT.

A/N: Heavily inspired by this artwork by @chanif-art on Tumblr along with Project Scorpion by @tagzpite. Literally could not get this idea out of my head until I wrote it down. Definitely going to be another series. We're also going to pretend D.S.O. was founded way sooner than 2011 k byeeeeee

“I fought a war and I learned how to win, but how do you fight when the enemy’s within?”

You step out of an elevator led by two armed D.S.O. operatives in tactical gear deep underground at HQ, your white lab coat flowing gently as you walk forward. Grasped in your right hand is a voice recorder. You and the operatives go through a series of heavy steel doors leading you into the bowels of the underground facility.

Is all this really necessary? you think to yourself as you’re led deeper into the abyss.

Finally, you’re brought to a single cell enclosed with clear polycarbonate panels with steel reinforcements. In this cell was a man sitting in a chair that was bolted into the floor, his hands chained behind his back and his legs chained to the legs of the chair. This man is Agent Leon S. Kennedy. You approach one of the panels closest to the steel door keeping him in. 

Switching the voice recorder on and bringing it to your mouth, you state your name before continuing, “The year is 2004. The subject is field agent Leon Scott Kennedy, currently 27 years old and exhibiting the late stages of Las Plagas infestation, his body is covered in dark, vein like marks. Subject is currently slumped over in the chair. He appears to be catatonic.”

Bringing the recorder away from your mouth, you motion to one of the operatives to guard the door. You input a passcode into a key panel next to the door. It lets out a hiss as it slowly swings open. As you step in, the door swings closed and locks.

You bring the recorder back to your mouth and continue, “Agent Kennedy?”

You watch as Leon slowly lifts his head, his face completely covered in the dark veins, his once blue eyes now have a slight red tinge to them, it makes your stomach twist in sorrow, he used to be such a handsome man.

“Subject appears to still have some cognitive ability left as he immediately recognized his name. We’re still trying to understand how he hasn’t broken down now that the alpha Plagas host, Osmund Saddler, has been destroyed--”

“I’m right here, you know,” Leon suddenly spoke, making you jump.

“Ag-Agent Kennedy!” you reply, eyes wide in shock that he’s able to speak. 

“Please, just call me Leon, sweetheart.”

His dark gaze seemed to pierce straight into your very soul. You collect yourself, clearing your throat.

“How are you feeling, Leon?”

Leon looks down at himself, tugging gently at his restraints before looking back up at you, “all things considered, I actually feel pretty damn good.”

“That’s… good, I guess,” you reply, your nervousness clear in your voice. 

You hadn’t prepared for this, every researcher that attempted to interact with him got absolutely nothing out of him, hence why they sent you down. You argued with them, not seeing the point but now you began to realize that the difference was they were all men, you were a woman. 

“Awww… there’s no need to be so nervous, sweetheart, it’s just me, Leon Kennedy. I promise I don’t bite,” he says, a small smirk appearing on his lips, “hard.”

“Do you know where you are and why you’re here, Leon?”

He lets out a chuckle, “yeah, I’m in D.S.O.’s research facility because I’m turning into a monster.”

“That’s putting it rather bluntly, but yes, that’s correct.”

“About time they sent someone cute down here to visit me, the rest were much too dull. If I wasn’t chained up, I’d ask you out to dinner and a movie.”

You feel yourself blushing, “that’s… very kind of you Leon, however that won’t be happening anytime soon, I’m afraid.”

“That’s a shame, because I’d love to take you to bed and make you scream my name,” he growls, a sinister grin overtaking him.

Your heart is pounding out of your chest as your eyes widen at him. This wasn’t like Leon at all, the parasite was clearly twisting his thoughts. You panic, turning around to motion the operatives to open the door and let you out. As soon as you’re out of the cell, you briskly walk away from the cell as fast as you can, not once looking back. You could have swore you heard Leon’s laugh echo after you. 

“I am not going back down there, are you insane?!”

“You’re the first person he has actually spoken to since he got back from Spain,” the lead researcher, Bryan said, setting your voice recorder down onto his desk. 

“So? Your point? I’m not doing it and that’s final!”

“Look, this recording gives us valuable data on him, it’s clear that the Plagas inside him is mutating into a more dominant strain. It must know it’s the last one left,” Bryan said, pleading with you.

“So we’re just going to poke and prod him like he’s some guinea pig? Leon wouldn’t have wanted that! Are you sure there’s no way we can cure him?”

“If we attempt to remove the parasite now, it will kill him--”

“Then let’s put him out of his misery, this isn’t right!”

The silence between you was deafening. After a few minutes, Bryan finally spoke.

“Judging by this recording, the Plagas has one thing on its mind.”

“Which is…?”

Bryan looked up at you, letting out a heavy sigh, “reproduction.”

“All the more reason I shouldn’t be going back down there!”

“He’ll be restrained and you’ll have at least two operatives with you at all times, you’ll be safe,” Bryan leans forward on his desk, folding his hands together, “the data you collect from Agent Kennedy is invaluable in finding out how the parasite works, just… go down and talk to him. I know yesterday was unnerving but there is one thing he said that is true, he’s just Leon Kennedy. He’s in there somewhere, even if the Plagas is influencing him.”

You cross your arms, staring at the floor, letting out a frustrated sigh before looking back up at Bryan, “fine. But I want hazard pay.”

“Consider it done, here’s your recorder back,” Bryan says, sliding the recorder across the desk towards you. 

You grab the recorder of the desk, turning on your heel to walk out of Bryan’s office.

“You are to report down there in an hour, you hear me?” Bryan calls after you just as you walk out the door.

You fight the urge to flip him off, thinking better of it. You walk down the hall into your office, getting your lab coat back on and sitting at your desk. You press play on the recorder, listening back on your interaction with Leon several times. There was one part where you repeated it several times, sending chills down your spine.

“That’s a shame, because I’d love to take you to bed and make you scream my name.”

How long had Leon been locked down here, chained to this chair? How many men in lab coats came and tried to talk to him? He knew he was a lost cause, why were they keeping him alive? How many times did he wish death would come and take him in his sleep?

But then you came, awakening something in him.

Your natural scent filled the cell completely, so many hours had gone by and he could still smell you and you smelled absolutely divine. He couldn’t stop thinking about you, the way your voice was so sweet yet filled with drive and intelligence. The way you blushed when he flirted with you. The way your heartbeat began to race at just the mere mention of taking you.

God you were so cute when you ran off, all flustered, he couldn’t help but laugh; he hadn’t felt alive like that in so long. His reminiscing was interrupted suddenly when he could hear footsteps coming down the hall. Lifting his head, he practically began to salivate when he saw you had returned.

You came back to me, baby, where you belong…

“The subject appears to be conscious and alert, he watched us as soon as we were in his line of sight,” you say as he watches you speak into the voice recorder. 

With a hiss, the door opens and you step inside. Leon breathed in deep, taking in the smell of you, you smelled even better than you had yesterday. He feels his cock twitch in his pants in excitement. He watches as the door behind you closes and locks, just like it had yesterday, trapping you in here with him.

Curse these fucking chains…

“You’re more lively today, Leon, care to tell me why?” you ask, your voice flat and void of any emotion.

“How about you tell me why you smell so nice,” Leon replies, grinning at you, drool running from his mouth down his chin.

He watches you shift uncomfortably before you continue, “I’m not answering that.”

Leon scoffs, shaking his head, “then I’m not going to talk to you, sweetheart.”

You take a deep breath, “if I’m going to be honest, I don’t know why I smell so nice to you, Leon.”

His red eyes scan up and down your form, imagining it without all those needless clothes. Imagining himself pinning you to the floor and fucking you stupid. A strange, clicking sound came out of him from the back of his throat as he pulled aggressively on the chains holding him to the chair. He watches as the two men with guns outside become alert. Leon lets out a low growl as he glares at them.

You turn to face the men, signaling to them to stand down. He watches them both relax before you return your attention to him. 

“The transformation appears to be progressing faster than expected,” you say into the recorder, “are you in any pain, Leon?”

Leon slowly shakes his head, “no, just unbelievably horny, doll.”

“We have reason to believe the subject is displaying an increased libido due to the fact that the parasite inside him knows it’s the last of its kind.”

“Stop talking about me like I’m not here, that’s awfully rude.”

“Fine,” you say, lowering the recorder away from your mouth, “what do you want to talk about, Leon?”

“You should ask those nice boys out there to take these chains off me,” Leon purrs, staring at you longingly.

“Absolutely not, Leon,” you reply, crossing your arms, “those chains are there for my safety as well as your own, at least until we can get the Plagas out of your body.” “I think I’m too far gone for that, don’t you think, sweetheart?”

You take a deep breath and exhale loudly, the sorrow clear in your eyes, “I am so sorry that this is what you have become, Leon.”

“I’m not,” Leon says as that sinister grin overtakes him again; he starts to chuckle.

“Leon,” you begin, stepping closer and kneeling down to be eye level with Leon, “I know the real you is in there, somewhere, you have to fight it.”

Your scent was almost enough to drive him crazy, you were delectable. He licks his lips, that clicking sound coming out from this throat again. His eyes are locked on you and he sees you glance down briefly before looking back into his eyes. He knew what you were looking at, you were looking at the noticeable bulge in his cargo pants.

“You’re so pretty, you know that?” Leon says, his body visibly trembling.

You don’t respond, you simply stare at him with that same sad look in your eyes. How could you not want him as much as he wanted you. His lips curl into a snarl.

“Let me FUCK YOU!” he growls, lunging forward, the bolts in the chair letting out a loud screech as they’re bent slightly.

You stumble back, falling backwards onto the floor as Leon continues to struggle violently. The two men with guns come rushing in, one of them grabbing you off the floor while the other shoots a tranquilizer dart into Leon’s thigh. Leon feels the effects almost instantly, his body becomes limp as he becomes sluggish, his mouth hanging agape as he watches you get led out of the room by the two men, the door shutting and locking behind them as you’re led away.

“Mine,” he whispers in his last moments of consciousness, “all mine.”

Part 2

[neteyamsyawntu]

Kinkmas Day 12

K u r u P l a y

Teylan x Human!Reader

Warnings: 🔞MINORS DNI🔞, Slight corruption, hypersensitivity, Teylan being a little subby baby, dom!reader, grinding, interspecies relationship, size difference,

‼️Potential spoilers for Avatar:Frontiers of Pandora‼️

You had only recently escaped the RDA, having been a botanist on the western frontier at one of the drilling sites. You were mortified with what the RDA was doing to Pandora and its effect on its inhabitants. Luckily enough you were out in the field researching when the site was attacked by the resistance.

It wasn’t long before you found your way to the resistance with that of a guiding hand from one of the long lost Sarentu warriors, and while most of the members of the resistance welcomed you in, a particular member of the remaining Sarentu was almost as curious about you as you were about him, even offering to show you around HQ. He had so many  questions about you and your work, especially the technology you used that he found himself getting side tracked with the tour. 

“S-sorry I’m getting carried away aren’t I?” Teylan said in a soft voice, fiddling with a broken radio that was strapped to his chest, bowing his head slightly, clear embarrassment in his features. “Haha, it’s alright, Teylan. Really I don’t mind the questions.” You muse enthusiastically, instinctively grasping his free hand to grab his attention, which you achieved much faster than you had thought. His tail quickly rose to attention then began swaying back and forth wildly, eyes wide as his shocked expression turns into a tooth grin. “Really? Well if you’re sure do you mind if we sit? I have so many more questions to ask.”.

 You can’t help, but smile wider as he gently takes your hand, guiding you to sit on one of the soft pillows in the living quarters, sitting beside you with large and eager eyes, “Sure, but under the condition that I can ask you some questions as well.”. He almost reminded you of a puppy with how passionate and excited he got when you began to explain about the tablet you used to scan, log, and store information on the plants you studied. He was so cute, so eager to learn. It seemed very evident that Teylan was the odd one compared to the other members of his small clan, wearing more human apparel and taking interest in their tech, while the others focused on finding themselves and their past culture, yet even as you spoke to him, you couldn’t help, but trace his beautiful stripes with your eyes. 

He wasn’t treating you like the little human you knew you were, he was just interested to know of your studies, yet you couldn’t wipe away the idea that he was still nearly 10ft tall. 

“Do you mind if I see your hand again?” You ask a little timidly holding out your much smaller one for him to place his into. Again his ears perk and eyes go wide as his eyes study your hand for a brief moment, the smile that had been on his face the entire time twitching a little bit, “My hand? Sure.”. As Teylan places his hand into yours, palm up, you immediately feel the weight of it, unconsciously bringing your other hand to support it. Your eyes light up as he feel the texture of his hands, “They’re so soft.” You whisper under your breath, giving his hand a gentle squeeze in your own, of what you could fit, making a mental note that it was probably due to living in a classroom all his life, not having to fight for survival and overuse them, You hadn’t even realized you had spoken aloud until Teylan chimed in with a, “Oh- uh thank you, yours are soft too.”.

You are suddenly brought out of your thoughts by the voice, now kicking yourself for being so careless as color rises to your cheeks. “Sorry I didn’t mean to say that out loud.” You laugh a bit nervously, now avoiding eye contact with the na’vi, “It is alright.. I don’t mind if that was your concern.” He reassures you, his tail tapping happily against the pillows beside him. You can’t help, but smile at his body language, releasing a soft giggle as you continue to examine his body, your hand and eyes trialing up his arms, admiring the striped pattern of his skin, not failing to notice the shiver that runs through his body as you run a finger along one of the stripes of his bicep, a small muffled noise coming from his throat.

“Are you alright, Teylan?” You ask looking up at him with a mix of concern and intrigue, “Yes… just a tickle.. that’s all.” He responds is a quick mumbling of words. You simply nod and go back to your thoughts. Of course there were parts of the na’vi that were similar to humans, but the parts that weren’t were so fascinating. The part you feel you envied most was his neural queue. To have the ability to connect with any living organism around the world was almost mind boggling. “Do you mind if I ask a bit of a personal question?” You ask lowering his hand a bit to rest it against your thigh as you continue to hold it in your grasp, “Not at all, ask away!”, “Your neural queue… what is it like? Having one I mean, like being able to connect with everything?”. 

Teylan’s brows crease a bit as he contemplates this for a moment and then shrugs, “It is odd… a little scary if I’m being honest, I’ve only ever really connected to Eywa through the Tarsyu, but I don’t do it very often.” You silently nod in understanding as your thumb absentmindedly caresses over the palm of his hand, sending another tingle through his body, “Erm.. would you like to look at it?” He asks perking his ears up, his enthusiasm being more than contagious, agreeing to him without an argument. You can’t help but notice the small blush on his face as he pull the long and thick braid over his shoulder, holding it gently in his hand, presenting it to you. 

Immediately Teylan has your full attention as he flips the end of his braid up to reveal the pinkish-purple tendrils that swirl and tangle on themselves in the air, waiting for something to grasp onto. “Woah…” you hums in fascination, slowly leaning closer to get a better look at them. “So… what do you think? Is it… weird to see up close?” Teylan asks somewhat hesitantly, coaxing you to instantly switch your gaze to his, offering him a soft smile, “Not at all! I think it’s incredible. It’s actually kind of pretty.” 

Again the color on Teylan’s cheeks seem to darken as you move slightly closer, “Do you mind if I touch it? Just the braid, I promise I won’t touch the tendrils.”. You can hear Teylan audibly gulp with a nod and adjust his position slightly to hold his kuru out a tad closer to you. Time seems to still as you extend your petite hand up toward his braid, you wanted to be as delicate as possible with such an intimate part of his body. Your heart was pounding in your chest as your fingers extend to delicately caress the thick braid of his kuru. The moment your fingertips brush the dark hairs, a slightly broken gasp forced you to retract your fingers, looking up at Teylan’s flushed face with concern, “I- I’m sorry I didn’t mean to hurt you.”, “No! No it… it didn’t hurt. I was just a little surprised, no one has ever touched it before, but me.”. 

A warm smile crossed your features as you nod, placing your other hand in his own, “Here you can squeeze my hand if it becomes too much… just don’t break it ok?” You chuckle a little awkwardly, but it seems to put his mind at ease as she allows you to continue with a second attempt. Again his body stiffens as your fingers make contact with the braid, a shaky exhale leaving his body, closing his eyes as a means to concentrate on something. You watch his body language closely adding his mannerisms and reactions to a place in your brain to write down and analyze later. Of course your specialty was in plant-life, but the na’vi were such fascinating beings. 

“I’m going to move my hand downward, ok?” You state, wanting to make sure you didn't catch him off guard or do anything to make him uncomfortable. With a slightly breathy “O-ok.” You take your granted permission as gently drag your hand down the length of his kuru. Teylan’s ears immediately flatten against his head, his non-existent brows rising and lips parting to allow a faint whimper to escape him. The sound of his tail batting against the pillows more roughly catches your attention as you shift your hand further. You hadn’t expected his kuru to be this sensitive, originally assuming that the tendrils would’ve been the area to coax this much of a reaction out of him, and perhaps to some extent they still would, yet you would never venture to investigate, wanting to respect his boundaries. However that wouldn’t stop your curious nature from experimenting further with the rest of his kuru.

You weren’t even sure why you did it, maybe just caught up in the moment of analyzing his body’s reactions, but before you know it, your eyes had drifted to the tent pitching in his loincloth. The heat in your face rises at an alarming rate as you avert your eyes before he has a chance to notice. Now the gears in your head had shifted to a slightly different approach, however inappropriate the best or worst form of the sense. Cautiously, your palm begins to wrap around Teylan’s kuru, now holding it gently in your hand. Teylan subtly squirms in his seat, releasing another broken sigh, his eyes flutter closed yet again, to which you take the opportunity to let your gaze wander down between his thighs again, just in time to see his cock twitch beneath his garment. 

Your mind now raced as you slowly shifted your body closer to his, positioning yourself between his thighs. Sensing your presence and feeling your body heat, Teylan opened his eyes, watching you with his lips parted, his breath catches in his throat as your hand begins to travel up his kuru, toward his skull. “Y/N… wha- what are you doing?”, “I just want to see if it’s more sensitive at the base of your skull…” you explain calmly, locking eyes with him. A heated look between each of you is exchanged. While your expression was one of allure and confidence, Teylan’s was that of lust and full of trust. A clear submission playing behind his eyes, that he would let you continue with your venture. With the silent exchange giving you further permission, your hand glides up his braid, toward the base of his kuru at the back of his head. His body instantly begins to rock and squirm, his breath hitching with a heavy gasp and a waning whimper escaping him before he can fully hide it by biting his bottom lip. 

The moment your hand tightens its grasp on the base of his kuru, even with it being ever so slightly, Teylan’s large hand suddenly encompasses your back, pulling you flush against his body, his face burying into your shoulder as a muffled whine echoes in your ear. Your eyes widen, heart now rapping violently in your chest as you fear you may have overstepped, your hands quickly moving to push back against his chest “T-Teylan I’m sorry I-.”, yet you are met with resistance as his hand on your back effortlessly keeps you exactly where he wants you, “-No. No, don't stop… please.”. Now breathless yourself, you look up at Teylan and watch as the previous look in his eyes shift to one of aching need, with your pelvis now pressed against his bulge.

He wanted this and you couldn’t deny that part of you, the part that wasn’t a scientist, that part that truly compelled you to the na’vi, wanted this too. Pressing your lower abdomen assertively against his throbbing boner, you snake your hand back around his head, and gripping his kuru with the same cautiousness you had before, taking joy in how easy it was to get him hot and bothered as he rested his cheek against the side of your head, letting another whimper slip from his lips, gently grinding his cock against your body. It was scandalous and outrageously unprofessional, but you couldn’t care less when his lips eagerly met your neck, the bill of his hat bumping against your head as he begins to leave soft, wet kisses along your skin. How long would it be until you were caught? You weren’t particularly in a private area. At any moment someone could walk in and witness a human and a na’vi engaging in such an intimate act… and this fact excited you as you leaned your head back, allowing him further access to your neck, your hand gripping his kuru slightly tighter than before, fueling the fire that was brewing inside of Teylan.

Tag list: @itchaboi-itchyboy @pandoraslxna @oakbuggy @plooto @xylianasblog @etherial-moon-blog @hikari-michiko @neteyamssyulang @blue-slxt @c-townes @loaksxhoe @xstarsdiary @neteyamswillow @akoyaxs @neteyxmsgirl @narwhal-swimmingintheocean @zafrinaxyz @neteyams-wh0re @neteyamyawne @kiri-tuk @beauitful-brown-skin-05 @akoyaxs @neteyamsstuff @puddleswimmingnerd-blog @ntymavtr @luvv4j4ybe11

[star-anise]

Everyone's got a take, and I've got a take too, about the current Internet Villain: James Somerton, a gay Youtuber who just got exposed (in the back half of a 4-hour video) as massively plagiarizing the work of LGBTQ+ media critics, historians, and memoirists, and then exposed in another 2-hour video as just making up the wildest nonsense about the topics he demonstrably had access to accurate information on.

He achieved a six-figure income on his work by squeezing money out of his audience with claims...

That only he was creating content that preserved queer history and elevated the voices and experiences of the LGBTQ+ community (a lie)

He was in serious financial distress and would have to go out of business if people didn't give him tons of money (a lie)

That he was going to use some of that cash to make definitely good and not-at-all-plagiarized independent movies, a thing he was definitely skilled and experienced enough to do (a lie), and

That those plagiarism allegations were incorrect,, and frankly,,,, hurtful and homophobic. (a GIANT lie)

Like, here's a visualization of the script of one of his videos, "Society and Queer Horror". The highlighted bits were lifted nearly verbatim from the works of others—the 18 authors identified at the time the exposé was posted—and presented as Somerton's own work.

So here's what drives me absolutely up the wall about this:

If he had just ADMITTED that it was the work of other people, THAT WOULD STILL BE COOL. If he had just said, up front, "We are going on a survey of thoughts and insights people have had about this topic", that would still be a good video with a real audience!

Like yes, he studied business in university, he might not have gotten the kinds of research skills and knowledge someone like Kaz Rowe uses to not just report on the history and analysis of others, but evaluate their relative validity and trustworthiness.

But honestly, since watching my niblings (oldest is 13) watch Youtube, I think you honestly can't underestimate the number of viewers who are really hungry for someone saying, "I don't understand this topic! Let's explore it together!"

But NOOOOOOO, Somerton didn't want to be just some schmuck waxing enthusiastic about homoeroticism on film and acknowledging the smartness of other people. He wanted to be HIM, MR. SMARTYBOY, very sophisticated and alluring and thoughtful and deep. Definitely an intellectual heavyweight who just happened to spout off his own personal ideas and analysis that put him at the forefront of all the scholarship on the topic he's come across.

I hate being wrong. Hate being wrong. But blogging for most of my life has forced me to confront constant textual evidence that two or ten or twenty years ago, I said some dumb-ass shit. Honestly, it'd probably keep me up at night sometimes even if I didn't have a written record. I absolutely understand the desire to scan the field, find the coolest people around, and quickly clothe yourself in as perfect an imitation of them as you can manage.

But if you want to be an artist or a scholar who produces something lasting, you can't prioritize coolness over truth all the time. To develop your true, independent voice, you need to find a time and place where it is just you and just the work you're doing, and you have pick up your tools and say, I don't know if I'm doing this right, but this is what feels right to me.

There are a lot of things in life to which we can only truly contribute our presence and our perspectives. Things we can only witness or hold space for. We cannot go back and bleed the pain out of history, or erase the complexity of another person's life. Not honestly, at least.

But those are the times that need our presence, our perspectives, our witness, and our space. When we gather round and tell sad tales about the death of kings, honesty can be the only thing you give that's worth a damn in the large scale of things.

If this dude had owned up to the truth and honestly showed the work of trying to piece together a queer understanding of the world, trying to draw the threads of culture together until he found a place he fit inside them, it would have been so much more valuable to our culture as a whole.

He probably made more money this way, though. While it lasted.

[minty364]

DPXDC Prompt #142 Part 2

His parents had spent years working on their portal, to the point where they were neglecting their own children. Danny didn’t know any better, neither did Jazz. To them it was just how their family ran and for the most part it worked for them. It allowed Danny to really study space and the Stars. His room was covered with different ship models on the shelves, glow in the dark stars on the ceiling and posters on the walls.

Jazz had similarly explored her own thoughts and topics as she studied Psychology. Her room was more feminine but still had a certain scientific decorum to it.  

He never thought that he’d suddenly be ripped from all the things he loved. But here he was with the trench coat man, instead of taking some biology class or something.

“What happened with the portal?” Danny asked.

The man took a long sigh, “listen… quite a lot of shit went down after your accident.” 

“That tells me nothing,” Danny glared at the man.

“I get your upset kid, but let me at least know your name. Mine's John Constantine,” 

“…Danny,” Danny muttered after a moment. He wasn’t sure he trusted the man but he guessed he had no choice. He was also noticing he felt a bit off, it was the weirdest gut feeling and Danny was having trouble telling exactly what the feeling was. It was like the feeling was telling him to trust John, although at the same time John had this weird feeling about him that had Danny feeling weary. He decided to trust John just a little, hopefully it got him back home, after a moment Danny spoke again, “…Can you at least tell me if the portal worked?”

The room was silent for a moment and then John spoke “Alright, fine, I’ll tell you what happened but some background first, do you know who the ancients are?” 

The name didn’t sound familiar, “Ancients? Like Ancient Aliens or something?” 

“No, no…” John took a swig from a flask in his pocket and then started fiddled with an unlit cigarette he pulled from a different pocket. He then looked Danny up and down, “You don’t know the first thing about the infinite realms do you?”

“The what?” None of this was making any sense and the more Danny talked to this guy the more he was getting a feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach. Something about this conversation felt wrong, like Danny should know all of this already but he just didn’t. 

“Right well… I guess the easiest way to explain this is the portal your parents made was to the infinite realms.” John said, putting the cigarette in his mouth.

“My parents called it the Ghost Zone.” Danny muttered.

John seemed to chuckle at that, “I mean it is mainly inhabited by ghosts, however they aren’t the only ones, far from it in fact. I’m sorry but… I couldn’t allow your parents unlimited access to the realms. I had to disable it and prevent it from being reactivated.”

Danny felt a little disheartened after hearing that, he guessed John was probably right though. He remembered hearing his parents talk about how they’d dissect every ghost they found to study them. The bully’s at his school often bullied Danny over it especially after his dad and mom would continually embarrass him on parent teacher nights and on field trips.

Danny let out a small sigh, “so when can I go home?”

John looked a little surprised, his eyebrow quirked up, “so you're unaware of your situation right now?”

“Situation?” Danny trailed off, he remembered getting shocked and then he remembered waking up here, “where are we?”

John let out another sigh, “shit, well from my research you're supposed to know everything about your powers when you wake up.”

This made no sense to Danny, powers? Danny didn’t have powers, he didn't have the meta-gene.

“Powers? I don’t have the meta-gene. I think you have the wrong person.” Danny stated as he folded his arms in front of himself.

“Then how are you floating?” John asked with a smirk.

Danny looked down and he indeed was floating just an inch off the bed, he wondered when that started but the feeling threw him off a little as he stumbled a little trying to keep himself upright. It didn’t work and he fell back down on the bed with a little thud. He turned to see John watching him with a small hint of amusement in his eyes. 

“What am I?” Danny asked, his voice small and a little panicked.

“You, Danny Fenton, are an Ancient. I know the term makes it seem like you're old but the term is more because your people are ancient in age.” The explanation made no sense to Danny but he could somehow float now. He thought the term ‘Ancient’ was a little much for some floating powers.

[schizopositivity]

It's so frustrating trying to learn more about your own illness and finding so little about so many of the common symptoms, or how they affect people day to day, and only finding what is commonly understood by most people. I feel like there should be more research into the many other symptoms besides hallucinations and delusions. And more understanding of what the actual symptoms are vs how the symptoms generally affect people.

One thing I noticed is things like "poor hygiene", "doing poorly in school or work" are often described as symptoms of schizophrenia, when really it is the result of symptoms like Avolition. And I think it's important to name the actual symptoms and not label the results of it as symptoms themselves.

Another thing is that I never hear how the negative and cognitive symptoms interact with side effects of antipsychotics. Like I personally think my executive dysfunction worsened as a result of the constant drowsiness from my antipsychotics. But I never see any information on that, or any guidance or support for that when you need to take the meds for the rest of your life while also living with untreatable negative and cognitive symptoms for the rest of your life.

And lastly, I wish more research was done on the horrible stigma schizophrenia has, and if that affects symptoms like isolation, limited speech and paranoia. I think every person with schizophrenia has the experience of having their psychotic symptoms be significantly amplified in public due to the paranoia of being perceived as psychotic, yet that experience is never acknowledged by professionals.

It's just disheartening that it seems that the overwhelming stigma of schizophrenia has seeped into the psychiatric field itself. We have so little accessible information about our own condition, the nuances of it, and how it realistically affects us as we deal with schizophrenia, the stigma, and antipsychotics on a daily basis. I just think there's so much more that can be done in terms of research into schizophrenia and I want to see it so badly, but can't do the work myself because of my mental illness. If only people with the privilege of being able to study and work in these fields cared enough to value our quality of life and understanding of our own brains as much as those of us who usually don't have the same access.

[chrollohearttags]

when the smoke clears • portgas d. ace

vice fire chief!ace helps comfort his subordinate after a rough call.

content + themes: fluff, comfort, ace being a sweetheart (and an asshole 😭), black fem reader, soft smut, oral kissing and hand holding, him + reader crying during 🥹, angst, mentions of arson + child death, so if that triggers anyone I’m sorry.

word count: 6.0K

📝: are y’all sick of me and my cheesy fire pun titles yet? 😁 sorry, I just really love this series and their dynamic. This was also longer than expected but I got carried away! 🫶🏾

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many things came with the responsibility of being a firefighter. It wasn’t an easy occupation by any stretch of the imagination. You saw and did things that the average person had the pleasure of not encountering..entire homes, entire families, generations and years worth of memories wiped out in an instant..you oftentimes risked your life with minimal reward whilst also being tasked with the heavy burden of saving others. But when you failed to do so, the weight of the world felt as if it were teeming on your shoulders and it was far too heavy to lift off on your own. Sure, there was therapy..perhaps even certain mechanisms to help you cope but there are some things you don’t forget. And all of that rang true for the newest recruit at Company Eight, (y/n) (l/n), who had just experienced your very first call that resulted in tragedy rather than a rescue. And needless…it had taken its toll…

“Oh!..Hi, Ace..so nice to see you.”

“Good evening, Miss Robin. How are we doing today?”

it was a chilly Wednesday evening..the impending onslaught of winter just around the corner for the big city. Snow had begun to fall, leaves wilting and turning to that beautiful rustic color that signified the turn of the season. It was such a delightful sight..but for you? The world seemed to be standing still, doused in gray and your heart may as well have turned black. Try as you might to hide it but the pain was still too sudden and fresh to just disappear so soon. Currently, you were home..the very spacious, four bedroom, high rise condo overlooking the city that you shared with your two best friends and roommates, Robin and Nami. Nami, who worked for The National Weather Center as a climatologist spent long hours helping to predict forecasts and track the weather patterns so that they can properly inform citizens of any impending storms. It was a rather unique and lucrative job..ideal for her! As for Robin, she was a professor at the local university, teaching archaeological studies and conducting research. She was a scholar; a woman of many academic achievements and just as your boss had arrived at the front doorstep of you guys home, she was preparing to head out for an overnight excavation, being led by other researchers in the field who needed the expertise and knowledge of someone like her. They were extraordinary, talented women who you were happy to call not only friends but sisters. Even so, with all of their intelligence, there was a topic that seemed too difficult to tackle, even for them…

handling grief. Grief that had accrued from your last call and perhaps the hardest one that the firehouse had seen in a while. It was weighing heavy on the hearts of everyone, even the more seasoned veterans but that didn’t make things any easier.

they had watched you traipse about the condo, in a stupor; spending your days off that would’ve been filled with productivity to do all of the things you couldn’t in your harrowing twenty four hour shifts to lie in bed, cry and sleep. It was awful and they couldn’t imagine what it was you were feeling at the moment. So they decided to call in someone with special expertise to help handle the situation. They had both met Ace prior through mutual friends at a gathering and they couldn’t understand why you held such resentment for such a kind, caring gentleman who seemed to really have a soft spot for you. Sure he gave you a hard time but only because your stubborn ass deserved it. If he didn’t put you in your place, who would?

“I’m doing wonderful. Please, come in.” So whilst the two of them were gone, they’d entrust your fate in the hands of the one person you probably preferred not to see but needed to. For the sake of your sanity and your job! With those deep set eyes, dark hair and signature grin, the vice fire chief made his way over the threshold, exchanging typical pleasantries with your roommate before she offered him warm coffee to help deter the cold and he’d happily accept. It was whilst they were at the table, drinking their beverage did the elephant in the room become addressed.

“So..how is she?”

“If you want my honest opinion? Not so great. We had to drag her out of bed for breakfast and a shower. I’ve never seen her like this before.” She’d also go on to explain how you’d woken up out of your sleep, screaming and reaching out to someone. Saying ‘take my hand’..only to slam back down to the mattress in a fit of tears. You’d laugh one moment, be angry the next and then a full sobbing mess afterwards..the realization was setting in for Robin, who was hurting for you. They were helpless and struggled to understand how it was you were feeling, less known to overcome it. Ace, however, had become accustomed to it and had a far better grasp on how to deal with this. Nodding his head, he’d take another sip before speaking.

“I see…y’know, it’s hard to imagine the girl who takes any opportunity she can to bite my head off actually crying. Just doesn’t seem like her..” but Robin could attest. What most mistook for anger or feistiness with you, your girls knew you were emotional at your core. You carried things much more intensely than everyone else. You felt it deeper than anyone else did and because of that, when instances like this happen, you didn’t exactly handle it well.

“She’s resilient..stronger than anyone I know but she’s also a lot more sensitive. (Y/N) has always had a knack for empathizing with others. It’s what I love about her..that kind heart. She always wants to help those around her..maybe that’s why she was adamant on becoming a firefighter. It’s strange..I wanted to stop her when she told us the news. To grab her and ask if she had gone crazy but…my fear didn’t stem from her rushing into burning buildings or an accident..it was something like this. Because she doesn’t just internalize their feelings..she internalizes their suffering, their pain. She tortures herself into believing that if she can’t help someone then she’s failed as a person. That tough exterior is nothing more than a facade, a mask to keep everyone from seeing just how fragile she is.”

it was then that Ace acquired a better understanding of not only your current mental state but you as a person as well. He knew now that the woman who hid behind these stoic faces and temperamental attitudes was actually a sad child who had never healed from past trauma. However, he couldn’t, in good faith..allow you to come back on shift until you were feeling better and if that never happened, then he’d be forced to resort to more permanent measures. Once the two finished up their coffee, Robin would gather her things and prepare to leave. “I'm going to go tell her goodnight and I’ll let her know you’re here..” With that, the tall, dark haired woman headed towards your bedroom. Her backpack, chocked full of exploration equipment and other necessities tossed over her shoulder along with a thermos in hand. She’d leave a faint knock for which you’d allow her in and that’s when she’d be met with the sight of you lying in bed, curled up in the blankets and cradling a stuffed animal. It was the only bit of comfort you’d had.

“Hey, sweet girl. How are we feeling?” Her deep and soothing tone brought you immediate peace as she sat at the edge of your bed, stroking along the side of your face. That nurturing touch was the only semblance of comfort you had felt in these past few days. Even so, you couldn’t bring yourself to admit the truth..the truth that would reveal the fact that you weren’t doing well in the slightest. Curled into a fetal-like position, (y/n) bundled the blanket up to your face. Almost too ashamed and frightened to face her. Abashed by the fact you were behaving this way. Although it couldn’t be helped..not when every time you shut your eyes, you’d relive the horrors of that night. Toiling with it over and over, thinking of what you could’ve done differently. It seemed as if no matter what scenario you went through in your head, it seemed as if the result would be the same. There was nothing that you or anyone else could do..even so, it didn’t stop you from shouldering the blame. However, you wouldn’t be sulking for long if he had anything to do with it. As Robin continued to console you, barely garnering a whisper from you, you’d proceed to tell her that you were okay. Which she knew was a lie but it was better than mere tears..

“C’mon, rookie. Are you really going to stay here sulking? It’s sad..”

Suddenly, your pity fest was soon interrupted by the very familiar and irritating voice of the last person you were hoping to see. Not only would he undoubtedly make you feel worse but you most certainly didn’t want him seeing you in such a state. Although he never voiced it, you had the sneaking suspicion that he thought little of you. That perhaps he bet on the fact that you’d one day succumb to the harsh conditions of this job and wouldn’t be able to handle it. Maybe you were proving him right. You’d feel the bed shift as Robin stood to her feet; only bending down to place a gentle kiss on your temple, telling you that she loved you and would see you later once she returned from her expedition. She’d also take Ace’s appearance as her cue to leave. She felt safe leaving you in his care. Today and any other day..

“..go away, Ace. I’m not in the mood..”

cradling the blanket into your fist, you’d slowly turn back over and avoid facing him. The last thing you wanted to be vexed with was his nonsense. But he wasn’t here to pick a fight or even argue with you. He was used to your anger, used to that foul mouth and bad attitude. What he couldn’t stomach the thought of was you being upset. Kneeling near the side of the bed, he’d press a hand to your covered hip and try to get a peak at your face. Hoping that he’d be able to soften you up. Although it’d be no easy task..that much he was aware of. Still, it wouldn’t stop him from trying his best to make you feel better.

“Yeah..I figured you’d say that.” releasing a heavy sigh, your superior would then rise back to his original posture, before doing something quite unexpected. Suddenly, you’d feel the weight of the bed shift drastically before you were greeted with the sight of him lying next to you! That same obnoxious smirk and deep tone that normally made your skin crawl. Without so much as a warning, he’d peel those covers back from you and reveal your gaze as well. “What are you?--” “There she is..that pretty face. Y’know, crying really doesn’t suit you. Neither does acting like a big ass baby.” As per usual, you wouldn’t get away unscathed without him taking jabs. But this was exactly what you needed. Someone to bring you back to reality! If anyone understood the gravity of the situation you were grappling with and how difficult it was, Ace was the one. He’d seen many tragedies since his time as a firefighter. From car accidents, crime scenes and horrible fires that had destroyed families in a matter of minutes. He had a sort of immunity to it and didn’t let many things phase him for his own mental state. That silly facade was his own coping mechanism. Otherwise, he’d be knee deep in a bottle again and that wasn’t a place he wanted to go back to. But even he could empathize with you on this. It was a brutal scene..one of the worst any of you had ever encountered..it was difficult but you were definitely taking it harder than anyone else.

“And what the hell would you know? Huh? Everything is always a joke to you. They died right in front of me..right in front of me, Ace and I couldn’t do shit!..Do you have any idea what that feels like?!” Just then, your voice would ascend into a higher pitch and you’d become hysterical. You’d become livid..just one of the many emotions you were experiencing. How dare he speak to you as if you were some petulant child throwing a fit? This wasn’t some small mistake you all could laugh off..a mere teaching moment. A family was broken apart at the seams, a mother burying their kids and a cowardly father who took his own life to avoid the consequences. And the only thing that you could do was stand there and watch the flames engulf them. See two innocent babies become swallowed after the support beams of their home fell in front of them. You’d try to run in and save them but were promptly held back by your fellow firefighters. You lacked the experience to tackle such a feat and the only thing your presence would’ve caused was another unfortunate casualty. You even sustained some injuries that hadn’t even hit you until after your adrenaline wore off. But none of that mattered..nothing compared to the pain of seeing two little kids yelling ‘help me’..only two feet away and there was nothing you could do to help them. Your other two teammates rushed in, barely escaping with their lives to assist them instead but by that time, smoke inhalation was what ultimately caused their demise.

“Who does that to their own kids?! What type of fucking monster would burn them up because he was mad at their mom?! Why couldn’t I help them, Ace? Why didn’t you let me?! Do you really hate me that fucking bad!—“

By this point, you were more than lively. A bit more than he anticipated and before he knew it, you were screaming, sobbing and slamming your fists into his chest. He expected this..hell, he blamed himself. As soon as he got the call, he should’ve told you to stay behind. But shielding you only would’ve felt like a slap in the face and he was doing you no favors by sugarcoating the severity of this job.

“Because I didn’t want to lose you too!” suddenly, you’d feel your wrists clutched in his grasp and him holding you close. But you’d also notice the welling tears brimming in his eyes. A true first! This was the very man you’d always catch with that stupid smug grin on his face and laughing. Yet here he was..mirroring your sentiment. He’d then try to feign them off and look away over his own shoulder. Trying not to let you see him in that state. “Damnit, rookie!..you think I did that to spite you? All of this, the whole situation fucking sucks and if there were anything I could do differently, I would. I failed, okay? As your superior and a firefighter..and I have to live with that. I have to face the consequences of my decisions but I couldn’t take it if something would’ve happened to you. I–...” it was only a matter of time before he crumbled and it was seconds later that you’d watch the once strong and upbeat chief fall apart. “I’m sorry, (y/n)..” but alas, his tears and apology didn’t sway your resolve. You were angry with him! Angry that he was yet again protecting you. Now face to face, the two of you sat there..only inches apart. His hand cradling your own and you refusing to let go. This was by far the most vulnerable that you had ever seen him and in a way, it almost made you feel sorry for him but you had to let him know exactly how you felt. Leaning forward, you’d move as if you were trying to kiss him but instead, went for a slap. Bringing him out of his self sulking trance.

“What the hell?!--” “If you’re really sorry, then stop treating me like a goddamned baby! Ace, this job means everything to me. I didn’t become a firefighter to sit on the sidelines and watch people die. And it seems like as of late, all you’ve done is try to coddle and try to shield me from it. I don’t get it..do you really think I’m that useless? How the hell do you think I feel? Everybody thinks I’m incompetent because of you. No matter what I say, I can never look that mom in the eyes and tell her how sorry I am. That I did the best I could because I didn’t. You took that from me, Ace..why do you insist on smothering me?!” and you wouldn’t believe him even if he told you the reason. It’d probably only make you even more irritable. But hell, now was as good of time as any to confess what was on his heart.

“..any man would want to protect the woman he loves, wouldn’t he?” You were still amid your rambling when the words seeped from his mouth. Just as flatly as any other phrase he had uttered before. Almost as if he were afraid to admit it but it was true..every bit of it. He had fallen for you over this past year or so and there was no way of denying it. All of his domineering overbearance was due to this blossoming crush..this deep seeded passion that had sprouted into pure adoration. “Fuck’s sake..swear you drive me crazy, rookie. Can’t believe I’m even telling you this..” That’s when he’d burst into laughter, now swiping the tears away from his puffy, dark eyes. There it was. That’s why he was acting this way..he didn’t want to tell you in fear of pushing you away or even be accused of showing favoritism just because you were a woman. He never once doubted or even questioned your skills. But his feelings? They had grown far stronger than he was ready to accept. He knew you could handle it but in that moment, his natural instinct was to grab you. Even at the expense of your own mental health and pride. Even if it meant you’d hate him for it. Hold you close and never let go..because he didn’t want his last memory of you to be walking to your death. Honestly, he wasn’t being entirely truthful because he knew it’d only make you feel worse but there was nothing that any of you could do. Even the most trained and skilled first responder would not have been able to change the outcome of this tragedy. You all went in and risked your lives for these children but it was to no avail. One step closer and it would’ve been a suicide mission.

“I know it’s selfish and honestly, you have every right to resent me for it but I can’t help myself. You’re a hell of a firefighter, I’ve said that a million times but you’re also the girl I can’t stop thinking about. The one I just want to keep safe and protect from it all but that’s not fair. I can’t ask you to hold back because of my sore feelings. You did everything right, rookie. This isn’t your burden to shoulder so stop sitting around here crying, worrying your friends. None of this is your fault, okay? Nobody blames you, not even that mother. She even came by the fire house to thank you for how quickly you rushed in to help her kids. I just..I can’t take knowing that you feel like this because of my fucking stupidity–”

Quite frankly, you’d heard enough of these pitiful excuses and half assed attempts at trying to do damage control. But most importantly, you couldn’t take anymore of this..no more of his heartfelt confession because then you’d be forced to confront your own emotions. The deep seeded truth that you loved him as well. After a year of intense, passionate hookups and going through arguably some of the worst scenarios together, you couldn’t help but to become close. Even if it went without the obvious mention. Amid his long winded rant, you’d gently cup his cheek into your palm before kissing his forehead and eventually, his lips.

“You’re right about one thing, you are very fucking stupid..”

Immediately sending the flustered chief into a pout. But it was obvious that he meant every word because his cheeks flushed red as he felt your touch. “You don’t mince words, do you?” “No, but I am thankful for you..even if you get on my fucking nerves.” To which he could only chuckle and place his head down. He wasn’t expecting some picture perfect, Hallmark moment with you. That was for certain but you were still just as crass as ever! Reaching over, you’d take his hand and gently caress his knuckles with your thumb pad. “Listen, Ace..I feel the same way you do. As bad as I didn’t want to admit it. Hell, I’d tell myself I was just being delusional but the truth is, you do make me happy..” he couldn’t ask for much more than that, honestly! He was expecting you to be utterly repulsed by his words and here you were saying exactly what he was hoping for. On the contrary though, there was still a tiny bit that he was missing.

“Still..love isn’t supposed to be suffocating or overbearing. I can’t ever grow or learn if you don’t let me. I don’t want to just be ‘the girl you love’, I wanna be your equal…I want you to acknowledge me as a capable firefighter. I don’t want to be coddled and held back. I don’t ever want to feel what I have been for these past few days ever again. I don’t think I can take it..” finally, you’d lean in and cup his cheek; flustered a bright red by your heartfelt words. “I learned from the best, didn’t I? So I think I deserve to prove it.” What more could he possibly say? You were so precious to not only him but everyone at Company Eight. You all were family and losses were never easy, especially when they were so young but you all should have been proud. Proud that they realized your weakness and held you back for your own safety. Proud that you all had done everything you could to rescue those children, even if the result wasn’t what you all hoped and proud that you were still standing here..as a vice chief and fellow friend, he was so grateful for each of you and as much as he wanted to internalize that burden as well, he did none of you any favors by pouting or feeling sorry for himself. The only thing any of you could do now was move forward and keep getting better. Keep training and learn from your mistakes. And if he wanted his team to continue to grow, he couldn’t allow his own fears and bias to cloud his judgment. Otherwise those feelings would swallow him whole and the only thing he’d do is push you away.

“You really are something else, rookie…I swear you make me want to be better than I was the day before..it’s crazy. But I promise I’ll become a chief worthy of your respect. I won’t ever hold you back ever again.”

For now though, he just wanted to be one with you. Be in this moment with you and not let go. To immerse himself in your skin, to touch you and know that he still had you by his side. “I love you, Ace..” tenderly reassuring him as the gap of distance slowly closed between the two of you. A gentle hand cradling his face and his tugging at your hip. There was no greater feeling in the world than this.

“Say that again, baby..tell me one more time.” By now, he had laid you back flat to the mattress and his lips honed in on your neck, suckling and slowly kissing your flesh. Around your earlobe and even your collarbone. You’d utter the words once more and like a wave of fresh water, you’d allow him to drown you in his affection. Giving you the comfort and warmth you so desperately needed. The kind you had been craving. The kind that only he could give you!

“Can you tell me it’s mine?..please?..”

“You sure are demanding today..”

in only a matter of moments, you’d find yourselves entangled in a passionate bliss. His arms wrapped around you and your hands scaled the curvature of his back. This was nice..the only thought that could cross your mind. A simple one but true nonetheless. This familiarity..the comfort of knowing, feeling something that you were used to was nice. A feeling you no longer wanted to fight..you wanted to give in, submit and let the overwhelming emotions swaddle you. Safety, affection, genuine care..they all felt so foreign until you met him. Despite the fighting, anger and resentment. They were the only false feelings you harbored. No matter how far you tried to push him away, he’d only find himself falling deeper.

“Yeah, but at least you’re smiling now so it's fine..” chuckling gently against your lips, causing a faint vibration as he brushed the side of your face. Right now, nothing else mattered. He wasn’t leaving this room until your mind was out of that dark, dreary place. And he knew just how to do the trick. Soon, you’d feel his tongue snake from his mouth and make a beeline from the starting point of your jugular, not letting up until he reached your belly button; pausing only briefly to rid you of the t-shirt that you had been sporting. Immediately sensing the tension in your body resolving by the second. Ace honed in on your very sensitive and erect nipples that seemed to draw forth and elicit the most lively reaction from you. Feeling you tremble, hearing those light huffs…it was all he needed. He'd then lean up to check on his beloved. Adorning your temple with a soft kiss..

“..can I make you feel better?”

and without hesitation..frazzled and with labored breathing, you’d nod your head and whimper. “Y-yes, please..”

from there, he knew exactly what needed to be done. From that point forward, he was at your mercy..in complete and total submission to bring you pleasure. To ensure that you were shrouded in nothing more than bliss. No pain, no tears..he missed that beautiful smile more than anything so he wouldn’t stop until it appeared again. Seconds later, you’d find your leg draped across his shoulder as he made haste in shuffling around to position himself flat on his stomach. It was then that your thighs would become parted and he’d expose your aroused core. Already dampened with warm slick from his previous teasing, he’d run a single finger down the center of your slit..brushing the pad over the surface of your swollen bud. With the liner of your panties still entangled around his digits, he’d keep the shield pulled back as he delved in to enjoy the scent and flavor of your essence. It was divine..just as amazing as always. He didn’t say a word..merely began to muffle his brims around your puffy lips. At this point, pure actions were the only atonement for his behavior. His failure as not only a leader but a lover as well. He hadn’t attended to your needs in any capacity and now, he was going to make it right.

“Ace…”

the words barely escaping above a decibel but he’d merely remain steadfast in his motions. Slowly and delicately tending to your folds. Running his tongue throughout the center of that sweet spot. His head burrowed deep between quaking flesh. Now wasn’t the time for snarky commentary or sarcastic retorts. He was going to prove that every bit of what he said was true. Without so much as a phrase uttered between the two of you, he’d give you the indication to keep grinding yourself against his mouth. Use him to your full advantage and derive all the pleasure you could from him. Ride out your orgasms and let him take away every ounce of your stress..right now, that was his only duty. Grasping for your hands, he’d keep you in place as you rolled and bucked those hips forward, nearly coming forth from the mattress. “Are you okay, baby? Tell me how you feel right now..” but if the faint ring of arousal around his lips and the way you were shaking was any indication, he had to guess that you were feeling pretty damn good! “I—so good..” that was the only thing he wanted to hear. To hear that you were okay. That you were feeling something..that you weren’t entirely numb.

“Thank goodness..here..” he didn’t want you to reach a climax just yet. That was something he wanted the two of you to achieve together. He truly wanted you to be one..

“Look at me..look me in my eyes, right now..” almost subconsciously, your head shifted to perfectly align with his own. Faces only mere inches apart as he bridged the space with slow, soft pecks. Ones that would undoubtedly leave you yearning for more once they concluded. But he wouldn’t dare to pause..dare put a stop to this sensual moment. Your energy meshed with his, your bodies so close and skin pressed directly atop one another’s…there wasn’t a single place he’d rather be than right here. This was more than just sex..a meager compensation for his shortcomings but rather, the birth of a new dynamic. Hoping to leave behind the days of trivial arguments and childish antics..he wanted to scream it from the rooftops that he belonged to you. No more the days of being immature to one another. From here on out, he wanted honest, effective communication. To be real with you in every aspect. To learn about you so that he could be attentive and love you even when it was impossible for you to do so on your own. In your weakest moments, on your bad days and roughest storms, he could be that brave protector you always needed.

“Hold my hands, baby. I’m right here, I promise…” you were barely speaking; eyes soaked and brimming with tears because you’d waited so long to feel this. For someone to come and take your worries away..

“Please..I need it. So bad..”

he dare not deny your request as he hastily removed those sweats, discarding them onto the floor, along with the pair of panties he glided down your calf until hit your foot..your body itself was more than a pleasure vessel. More than just the anatomy itself. Your breasts, your thighs, your center..it was more than that. This was home. Where he’d always come to find solace when he needed it most. Where he’d always return..so when he’d ease himself into you, one inch following the other..breathless moans ensued right behind it. The sensation of being sucked in and never wanting to let go. This is what true love making felt like. Eventually, you’d rope each of your limbs around his frame, coiling him in a tight embrace; mirroring the feeling of your insides around his shaft. Try as he might to push through, Ace was barely making headway..you were so tense still..almost as if you didn’t trust him. He’d heard your sentiments. The ‘I love you’ returned so sweetly but part of you still had reservations. Many nights had you given him your body, willingly without thought. Not searching for a thing other than menial pleasure..and he’d accepted! Selfishly taking you for his own needs and desires but could trust him with your heart? Could you trust him to hold something so fragile and protect it with his life? Would he truly love you the way you deserved?…

“..I’m sorry..”

just then, you’d hear him uttering in a shrill whimper. The warm dampness of his tears soaking your shoulder blades. He was crying!..for the first time ever, he had let go of all borders and barriers. He removed and shed all doubt he’d felt with other women. He was vulnerable..

“I’m so sorry, (y/n)..I’m so sorry I wasn’t there for you.” Still easing in and out. That member pushed through the sponge-like bundle of nerves as his words rolled off his quivering lips. Nipping at your earlobe with gentle kisses that sent chills coursing through your spine. He was so remorseful for allowing you to sit here in despair. What type of man was he? “But I’m here now…I’m here now and I promise I’ll never leave you again. You have my word, baby. I love you so much, (y/n)..”

He couldn’t change his past but he could atone right here and now..making a vow to not only you but himself. That he’d never desert you in your time of need..both entrapped in a bout of hysterics, you’d sob quietly whilst your bodies collided in a fit of bliss. The lewd movements became a mere afterthought. You were connected and ascending on a higher plane at the moment and nothing could take you down. “I..I forgive you…I love you too..please..don’t leave me.” Somewhere behind that tough exterior was that frightened girl..once too afraid after being harmed by so many, to confront this scary world was making her reappearance. She was no longer alone. She had friends, amazing coworkers and now? A man who adored her more than life itself. He’d instantly feel those constricting walls loosen at the mention of the apology and now he was swollen and pushing through. The bed would rock underneath your colliding frames and before long, those inevitable peaks drew near.

“So close, baby..just a little more.”

“Don’t stop..”

but he could hold out no longer and neither could you. The intense emotions proved to be too much and you’d succumb to those powerful feelings. The wave of climatic bliss washing over you both in only a few minutes of beginning. That sensitive core gushed with secretions and juices alike, signifying that you couldn’t hold back. And he wouldn’t make you.

“Let it out..there you go. I’m so proud of you, (y/n). That’s my girl..”

Coaching you through that orgasm before he even thought of reaching his own. You’d both release loud cries and tear filled pleas to follow. He’d hold you close and you’d cling to his skin as if you were mere seconds from crawling in. Reveling in the beautiful moment revered as afterglow. It was magical..a type of love that you wanted to experience until the end of time..

“And I’m yours. All yours..I belong to you.”

pain was a temporary sensation, meant to only last for a season. But love? It remained for a lifetime. And much like the flames of a burning fire, sparked from an ember, he’d fight through anything to ensure that what you had lasted. After the blaze was put out and the smoke cleared, no matter the circumstances or storm..he’d be right here. Forever and always!

@honeybleed 🫶🏾

[faretheeoscar]

SWEET LIES

Pairing: Jonathan Levy x Reader

--Warnings: 🔥18+, nsfw, oral sex, mentions of unprotected sex (take care of yourselves guys), lots of angst(Jonathan is a soft jerk), praise kink, contextual/ small? spoilers of scenes of a marriage (read under at your own risk if you haven’t seen it), age gap, sub-ish Jonathan (?), student/professor relationship (so much warnings omg)--

A/N: English is not my first language so I'm sorry if there’s any mistakes

Thanks to vin for her insights on Jonathan 🫶🏼

Word count: 2.1 k ~

You knew he was trouble, with all the backstory this man had; two failed marriages, two families to feed, and an inflated new ego due to his new success on his study field that led him to do international Ted talks amongst other things; this man exuded powerful energy from wherever angle you saw him, although that may be the case when he was in public; when you saw him giving lectures or speaking amongst his peers, but you knew other sides of Jonathan, he showed you a different side of himself when he was alone with you, you very well knew how this man could became all mushy and needy after a single peck on the lips, but also he could be dominant, specially when he had you bend over his desk as he pounded relentlessly deep inside you from behind late at night on a dark classroom after finishing the lecture and making sure to lock the door.

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

This was your routine with Jonathan, every Wednesday you had your after hours session with your professor after his lecture, it all began when you started to stay after class to ask him about everything and anything you could think, not even really caring on his answers or the extra homework and research he sometimes gave you just because you asked something so rhetorical that he didn't even had the answer but he hid it in a very smart way making you do a 100 page essay about the topic just for you to "figure the question out for yourself", all that extra work only for you to stay on his presence for a few more minutes after class and please your dumb college crush with your professor.

Eventually one thing led to another, Jonathan was a very smart man and he started to notice the way you carried yourself around him and he liked it, A LOT, he noticed the longing gazes you gave him whenever he was giving a lecture, the dumb smile and pink hue your cheeks turned every time he praised you for answering a question he asked to the class, the lingering touches on his arm whenever you said goodbye to him, and finally those tiny tight little skirts you always wore to his class even if it was freezing outside, those things slowly started driving him crazy for you, feeling the need to bury himself deep inside you and fuck you senseless until you got so cock drunk on him that he'd ruined sex for you, you wouldn’t even turn your head around to be with another dumb college boy who couldn't satisfy you the way he would if he had the chance.

Those thoughts lingered in his head every time he saw you, his cock would get hard at the slight sight of your thighs when you moved in your chair at class, all that sometimes giving him embarrassing boners he couldn't hide unless he sat down behind his desk or excused himself to the bathroom to try to calm himself down, that kept happening until one day he couldn't handle it anymore and he took you for the first time after class. That day he noticed that after he was explaining to you a random question you had about the meaning of life, you opened slightly your legs for him to catch a glimpse of your wet panties below your loose skirt.

Soon after the class ended he went mad, his desires possessed him over when you came to his desk and leaned a little bit closer to him, giving him the opportunity to devour your mouth as if he was famished, drank your juices as if he was dehydrated and pounded into you in a way that it left you with a small limp the next day.

At the beginning it was only the rush of rough needy sex and the excitement of experimenting with one another, but when you started to get little hints of Jonathan’s life, of his real essence when he decided to share a little bit of himself when he was on a post nut clarity after filling you up with his cum until it leaked down your thighs like the pretty little girl you were for letting him do it, you started to fall for your professor, and you were falling hard, it wasn’t on your plans at all, to fall in love with a man that could be easily your father or a really young uncle? Definitely not what you had in mind, you always tried to push away your feelings for him, but you couldn’t help yourself , every time you walked into the same room as your professor the air got thicker, heavier, an invisible force always pulling you towards him, and the small little glimpses he gave you of his life, those were a lifeline to you.

------- 

And that’s how you always fell into the same situation, by couldn’t focusing on the bigger picture, on what was best for you, to avoid the lies, because each time he had his two fat fingers deep inside your pussy while he was eating you out like a starving man from below your skirt, not even worrying to pull off your panties from you and just pushing them to the side when his eyes went crazy after he felt how wet you were for him, you couldn’t help but feel like you were in heaven, like you were the most desirable creature in the world.

He knew about your developing feelings towards him, and boy did he took advantage of your sweet little innocence, always praising you and letting you hear what you wanted in exchange for you to give yourself fully to him, to keep you hooked on a non existent developing relationship as he kept making you empty promises.

 

“We’re gonna be together soon, I promise."

 

He mumbled as his digits went deeper inside you, touching your soft, velvety walls in ways that made you shiver.

 

“I’m gonna leave her, I'm gonna leave everything behind for you, baby."

 

You knew there were all lies; they had to be; this man was deprived from all sense of loyalty a long time ago because his demons haunted him until this day and he let himself be consumed by them, but that didn’t impede you from clenching around his fingers so hard as he tried to push them into you so deep that he could barely move them.

 

"God, you’re so beautiful; I’m gonna be with you forever.”

 

Lies, lies and more lies, sweet little lies that drove you mad as you squirmed under his touch, you knew he’ll be gone as soon as he finished with you, like always, he’ll go back to take care of his family, he’ll tell you he is going to leave them and then come back next week with the same lies but with the same starving and lusty look whenever he looked at you that made you clench around nothing, that made your knees go weak, until you knelt down in front of him forgiving every single false promise and sucking his cock so hard he’ll came in just a couple of minutes, Jonathan, sweet, but intelligent jerk Jonathan the man you loved, that will never be yours fully, you always tried to extend your time together as long as you could, you would taste him and love him as passionate as you could, although he told you over and over again that this was not passion, he didn't believed in that, he told you this was something deeper, a true connection between the two of you, but yet again you knew he was lying, he always lies, still you believed him when you kissed him and his tongue danced with yours, for just a couple of hours he was yours, and only yours, he loved you, but it was fleeting, just as the time you spent with him, his love will fleet and yours remained so deep inside you sometimes it hurt to even breathe.

Even though he was lying to you, saying all those things for your enjoyment, to keep you on the edge and hooked on him, when the opportunity of being with him presented itself to you, it didn’t really matter cause of Jonathan's skillful hands and tongue always moved so in and out of sync, giving you something that no one else has given you before, as his big fat digits always teased your hole, curling upwards just in the right way to reach your G-spot over and over again as his tongue flicked your clit in the most hypnotic way.

 

“My sweet girl, my sweet, beautiful, good girl.”

 

He ate you like a starving man, his licks and sucks on your clit becoming more enraged as he got lost in your scent and taste, making him moan and grunt as he reached for his pants with his free hand and started palming himself through his corduroy khakis.

 

“Oh god-You drive me crazy, baby”

 

He grunted as he kept palming himself in rhythm with his fingers that were thrusting into you, attacking your G-spot as he kept on abusing your clit, with his tongue feeling how tight your little hole was getting as you went close to your release.

 

“F-fuck baby girl...God, I-”

Jonathan kept moaning for you, it almost sent you spiraling at the sight of how ruined and pathetic this grown ass man sounded, desperately whining while drinking your juices, with messy curly hair thanks to the hard tugs you did to it as you tried to hold him as close to you as possible, not that he wanted to be in another situation, cause that man, he was so pussy drunk, he was almost coming in his pants at the mere scent of you.

 

“I- I love you.”

 

Jonathan whispered softly against your core, and with that, you came undone. Your legs shook, and you contorted your face in ecstasy as your climax hit you hard, leaving you seeing stars. Your mixed moans, along with Jonathan's, echoed in the room as he also embarrassingly made a mess out of his corduroy khakis, a big stain of cum now seeping through the fabric.

 

Jonathan got his head out of your skirt and chuckled softly as he saw you were as ruined for him as he was all ruined for you. He brushed the slick of your juices off his beard with the back of his hand and gave you a soft smile while a pink blush colored his cheeks because of his little incident on his pants, something different was different that day, some sparkling in his eyes.

You looked up at him with a stupid, dumb smile, hopeful about what just happened between you both and the deeper meaning of it. You wanted to ask him about what he said to you just seconds ago, his words ringing and repeating inside your head over and over again.

You wanted to speak, but words didn’t come out, getting trapped in your throat as you looked at him dumbfounded, something he mistakenly took as a look of pure ecstasy after taking care of you, lifting his ego more, as if his ego wasn’t inflated enough already.

 

He chuckled at your lack of words and pinched the side of your cheek before speaking.

 

“See you next week after class, then? Hm, same time?”

 

Your head still in a stupid post-orgasm haze and lost in the sweet words he told you, made you nod your head softly to him, without being able to say anything you wanted to tell him, he gave you a soft peck on the lips just before running his hand through his messy curls to arrange them, tucking out his shirt from his pants to hide the mess he made of himself, and picking up his bag to slouch it over his shoulder, trying to look as presentable as he could on the way from the classroom to his car. You wished he would stay and talk to you softly, to talk about your feelings, but instead he was again leaving you alone in the dark classroom with your heart on your sleeve.

 

You thought you had it all figured out when you saw there was a spark in his eyes; it was different from other encounters you have had with him before, but you couldn’t quite put the words to what it was.

Maybe he was truthful with his words? Or maybe he really didn’t care at all. Either way, you’ve fallen for Jonathan’s sweet, sweet lies.

 

Again...

Fic Masterlist

Reblogs and comments are kindly appreciated 🫶🏼

[tmgstudios]

[long post, sorry, theres a tldr at the end but i really recommend reading the full thing if you can]

i really wish there was more like. narcolepsy awareness stuff in the world. that teaches people the actual symptoms and not just the stereotype. the amount of people i have talked to both online and in person about my experiences with narcolepsy who have been shocked at how much they related to my experiences is staggering. 

narcolepsy is so under-diagnosed and also very often misdiagnosed as something else because so many people, even within the medical field, don’t know the actual symptoms of narcolepsy (i am not pulling this out of my ass, my sleep specialist has told me this several times. its a real issue that sleep specialists continue to battle to this day). up until relatively recently, the past 5-10 years or so, narcolepsy and other similar sleep disorders weren’t even considered real by a lot of the medical field!!

narcolepsy is not “falls asleep at random” disorder. narcolepsy is a disorder of sleep cycles, causing the brain to enter rem sleep much quicker and more frequently then it should. 

this causes things like excessive daytime tiredness/chronic fatigue, extremely vivid dreams, sleep paralysis, hallucinations while waking up/falling asleep, and in the case of those with narcolepsy type-1, cataplexy (aka, while feeling intense emotions the brain will enter rem sleep while awake, causing muscles to lock up. this is where the “falls asleep at random” stereotype comes from, but the person experiencing it is not actually asleep, just unable to move their muscles. i can’t really speak more on this specific part of narcolepsy, since i have type-2, aka narcolepsy without cataplexy, this is just the basics i was told by my sleep doctors. EDIT: someone who experiences cataplexy has added their experiences in a reblog, if youd like to learn more please go take a look!!) [note: these are not the only symptoms of narcolepsy. not all people with narcolepsy will experience all of these symptoms, and everyone will experience them at different frequencies. for example, i only get sleep paralysis once every month or so, and my hallucinations tend to be limited to auditory] according to my sleep doctor, narcolepsy also has links to both adhd and chronic strep throat as a child (i have no idea how that last one works. but. thats what my doctor said and hey. she was right. i had chronic strep throat as a child and look at me now.) EDIT because i forgot to add: narcolepsy can not only co-exist with insomnia, but cause insomnia as well! excessive daytime tiredness --> more naps during the day --> harder time falling asleep at night

so yeah. i guess this is me doing awareness. if you relate to any of these symptoms, please talk to a sleep specialist if you’re able to. it might not be narcolepsy, but chances are it’s something, since none of these things are normal (to repeat, excessive daytime tiredness is not normal. that means there is something wrong). theres nothing wrong with asking a sleep specialist about narcolepsy and getting tested for it, even if you come back negative. 

my dms and askbox are open anytime for any kind of questions about narcolepsy, the diagnostic process, treatments, etc. while i am not a doctor, i have learned a lot through my own experiences, talking with my sleep specialist, and also my own research, since i’m currently studying to hopefully make narcolepsy research my career! whether you are questioning having narcolepsy or not, you are not bothering me with questions, i promise, you asking will probably make my day

TLDR; narcolepsy is a very misunderstood and underdiagnosed sleep disorder, and i highly recommend everyone learn about what it actually is and what the symptoms actually are, and if you relate to any of them, talk to a sleep specialist

[other narcoleptics feel free to add on to this post with your own experiences(and also to message me i always want to talk to other narcoleptics ASJDKHJ), and non-narcoleptics please please feel free to reblog! i really want to start spreading awareness for this disorder, since again, severally under/misdiagnosed and most of the world is still under the impression that the narcolepsy stereotype is true]

[the-cat-and-the-birdie]

Welcome to Spider Society -

A mega-post of my headcanons and (very) loose analysis of Spider Society and How It Works - like day to day. Or rather, how it works for recruits.

I'll be looking at things like dorms, contracts, mentors and more. [All of these are my headcanons really, so take what you like and leave what you don't.]

Recruitment - Your First Days At HQ

Learning about the multiverse can without a doubt be a jarring experience for some - And a new recruit's first days at HQ are usually no different.

Day One - First Contact

Based on the scenario, recruitment can happen one of two ways - each with different procedures based on the situation. Merit Recruit - Merit recruits are Spider-people approached on the grounds of merit, experience, or distinction. Spider-people from especially unique worlds, or those with extensive experience are approached by the Spider Society and extended an official invitation to join. Each potential recruit is profiled based on a number of things, including mental stability, talent, personality, or need. A potential recruit is then matched with an active member - an a first contact is organized. Potential Recruits are algorithmically matched with a Spider-person most likely to successfully recruit them - based on personality, emotional connection potential, and a host of other things. Pavitr Prabhakar, Peter B. Parker, and Hobie Brown are all Merit Recruits. Merit Recruits are more likely to bargain contracts, in order to enter the society at a high rank, or receive more perks. Hobie has bargained his contract for limited days - and he is only called for high profile missions. Other recruits cannot negotiate contacts, but Hobie hopes to unionize and change that.

Supervisory Recruit - A Supervisory Recruit is a Spider-person who is profiled and approached based on their 'need' or a growing concern for the situation of their universe. This mostly includes those from dystopian universes, experiencing their 'Public Enemy' Canon Event, or going through financial hardship. Although this also includes a small class of 'Critical Destabilization' Recruits - Spider-people from universes experience anomalies, or multiversal decay. Although approached as a Merit Recruit - Pavitr's file is now labeled as a Critical Destabilization member. Those with a 'CD' designation typically live in dorms as their worlds are closely monitored. CD Spider-people are deeply 'encouraged' to complete as many Canon Events as possible, in order to avoid possible anomalies.

Educational Recruit - Although rare, there are a small number of Educational Recruits - members approached based on their own educational research of the multiverse. If it is determined that a Spider-person has learned about the multi-verse on through their own research, the Society will make direct contact with them as soon as possible. Only a few high-ranking members are chosen to approach Educational Recruits - ready to answer any scientific questions they may have. Educational Recruits take seniority over Merit Recruits, and are also able to negotiate contracts - including access to Society technology. There is also a small academics program in which incoming Educational Recruits can study under other Genius Spider-people. They're trained in The Society Laboratory to develop new technologies and studying the multiverse. Most Educational Recruits are do not work in the field. Margo Kess is an Educational Recruit and is an early graduate of the academics program. Her job at the Go-Home Machine was negoitated in her contract.

Emergency Recruit - Emergency recruits are those who join the society through an Active Call. Contact is made with the recruit in order to prevent or capture anomalies, and treat multiversal decay. Emergency Recruit's experience an extended introduction period, in which they are emotionally monitored and treated before meeting Miguel and continuing on to their Evaluations. Emergency Recruits live on campus in separate private dorms in order to help with the shock. Gwen is an Emergency Recruit.

Next comes your Evaluations.

Evaluations

One of the most intense parts of joining Spider Society is often the evaluations. Because there are a LOT of them. Still recruits, incoming members take a number of evaluations and tests before becoming trainees. There's no way to fail these tests, but they're lengthy, and the data is used for a number of things, known and unknown

Week 1 - Your First Tests

After a contract is negotiated and a recruit accepts their invitation, the recruit is sent home with some materials in order to process what they've just learned. They're given a date and a time for them to return to meet their mentor and take their evaluations. These evaluations usually take a couple of days and so some may say in the dorms for the duration of this. Their original recruitment member will return to meet the recruit and take them back to HQ - and this is usually a time to bond and ask questions. Your recruitment officer is not the same as your mentor, instead they are someone you are mathematically chosen to get along with most. But how do they determine that? -

Your first evaluation at HQ starts before you even notice. Conversation With Lyla - Personality Analysis Prior to meeting Miguel for the second time, the recruit is asked to sit in the lab Gwen and Miles are shown walking through, and wait for Miguel. During this time, Lyla will appear on the console, and make light conversation with the new recruit. In doing so she begins her first analysis on the recruits humor, confidence, comfortability, extrovertedness, assertiveness, and a number of other things. With this, she begins to construct a profile. This conversation may last somewhere between 4-8 minutes - in which Miguel is given a report on you. Lyla is programmed to make the conversation as light as possible, as the participant should not be aware at the time of the test. Only a few have been able to recognize this tactic for what it is. Hobie being one of them. After questioning Lyla as to what she was, when she explained she was an AI - he stopped talking and refused to speak to her any further at that time. This raised his bargaining price with Miguel immensely. Event Screening - Moral Alignment Analysis Assigned by Lyla, A recruit's moral alignment is a profile taken by Lyla at the beginning of their contract, and annually every year after. Arguably the most time-consuming and tedious of the evaluations. Scenario Screening: A Recruit is seated in a lab with Lyla once more. Lyla shows the recruit a number of semi-realistic scenarios in an immersive simulation - similar to the ones Miguel shows Miles. Recruits are asked to respond to each scenario out loud and explain their reasoning, with Lyla making it as conversational as possible. However, this information is not taken at face value. During this conversation Lyla crossmatches. Career Screening: As you go through the Scenario Screening, Lyla will ALSO crossmatch your answers to past events in your career, pulled from sources like news television, and Daily Bugle reports in order to determine if what you are saying is true to your behavior. Both of these reports are combinded to determine truthfulness, self-awareness, selflessness, spontaneity and a number of other factors. This too is added to your file. A Session with Spider-Psyche - Mental Health Analysis Most people hate this part. The last evaluation is a three-session stint with a Spider-Psyche across three different days. During this time, your mental health will be evaluated, as the therapist begins to ask questions related to your canon events. In doing this, your events will be added to your file. This evaluation determines a recruit's mental stability, past traumas, and - hopefully - help determine their canon events in the future. The mental health analysis is due every six months - for every Spider person on campus. It's mandatory. The mental health center is robust, and appointments are easy to get. There is also a Post-Canon Crisis Center and multiple talk groups open for attendance.

Mentorship

Week 2, Day 1 - Meeting your mentor

Now that Lyla has a full profile of the recruit, they official become a member of the Society, earning their entry level badge - a card that gives access to the food court, showers, and other facilities.

As Lyla combines your evaluations into your file - she uses your Moral Alignment, Personality, and Mental Stability to assign you to an senior advisor to report to.

Mentors are responsible for Mission statuses, training updates, and a number of other things - depending on the recruit type and their needs.

There are many mentors on campus, including Ben Reilly, Lego-Spider-Man (for the non-human Spidey-people), Peter B. Parker, SunSpider, and some others.

Typically, a recruitment agent is a mentor in training. Had Hobie stayed in The Society, he would have achieved Mentor status.

First meeting: Largely determined by the mentor's preferred teach method, the first meeting with your mentor is fully determined by them. And some do not give a heads-up. It's encouraged that mentors visit their trainee's home dimension and/or join them on patrol. Mostly because next week, when you begin training, your mentor's report on you will determine your starting level and skillset. The Following Days: Second & Third Meeting Mentors are also encouraged to take and train their trainees in their own home world - for the trainee to get accustomed to blending in and working out there in the multiverse field. During the third meeting, Trainees are often given a tour of the facilities. Most mentors use this as a time to talk - mainly at the food court - in order to gauge their new trainee's skills, likes, goals, and needs. Report of Status and/or Need: Submitted by the end of Week 2 By the end of Week 2 your mentor will submit a report on you and their thoughts, as well as details on your experience, strengths, and skills. They will also determine things like your category - a descriptor of your fighting and battle techniques. There a nearly a dozen classes of category ranging from 'Speedsters' (Disco-Spider and Brown-Spider), to Wielders (those who wield extra weapons in addition - i.e Spider-Punk). You can fall into two or more categories at once - and your category is a large factor in your selection in particular missions. This entire status report - along with their full file and evaluations - is submitted directly to Miguel, not Lyla. And he reads each and every file. Miguel also requests a Report of Need if neccesary - detailing any struggles - financial, safety, or otherwise, that a trainee may need. For non-emergency recruits, this is also the time to sign up for dorms. In accordance with this report, Mentors must report HOW they're helping their trainee and their progress in need. For example, if a Spider-person is facing eviction or behind on rent, The Society will offer housing aid to assure they can keep their home, and they will continually check in to assures it stays this way. Once again, every one of these reports is screen by Miguel personally. (i.e Jessica is required by this rule to report how many days Gwen has slept on campus each month - as apart of her 'Need Relief Report'. Gwen got in trouble multiple times for spending under the required amount, during her time sleeping at Hobie's.)

Mentor Reports:

Mentors are required to give routine Training and Development Reports routinely - the frequency based on their time with The Society, starting at weekly and decreasing from there.

Personal Report:

You and your mentor may fill out a personal report, either together or by yourself.

This is to detail your feelings as needs as a new member, what you'd like changed, what you need, etc. This can range from anything from needing to set up Spider-psyche appointments, an increase in meal plan, or special accommodations.

Merit and Educational Recruits also fill out a Report of Perks & Benefits, in which they request things like entry into the Education program, private rooms, suit upgrades, and more.

Contract Negotiation: MERIT and EDUCATIONAL only

During this time, Trainees can now negotiate their contracts fully - outside of the Perks & Benefits, though taking more than usual is hard to get out of Miguel. But possible.

This negotiation is a personal sit down with Miguel, your mentor, you and Lyla. Your recruitment advisor can also be present for this as your second rep (besides your menton). After this, their contract is solidified.

Hobie, for example has negotiated a limited amount of mission calls per monthly cycle, earning his file the label of Class S, only reserved for high-level missions cleared by Lyla. Your class is another designation besides your category, however this is determined after Week 3 - your Training Week. Get ready to meet the training rooms and coaches!

___________________________________________ So yeah, that's how I imagine the first week of The Society is like. Based on.... :) haha mmm

But this is all just complete headcanon of how I imagine it - based on things like how I imagine Lyla works or mission teams are form and other stuff.

In my head Hobie, Gwen, Diane, and all Spider-sonas had to go through this lol

Um this was fun if you read this far I really appreciate it!!!! So take this photo of Hobie and uhhh....uhmm uh

Bye.

(also I mention Brown Spider who belongs to @brown-spider

And Disco-Spider Diane who belongs to me!)

[drdemonprince]

Do you worry about being so open about your sex life under the same name you use professionally? How did you settle on your current approach to talking about kink/fetishism publicly?

That's my question. Below is some background but feel free to ignore it.

I'm asking because, like many people, my kinks are integral to my sense of self and engaging in BDSM has been significant for my psychological wellbeing. I don't like keeping these important aspects of myself separate from the rest of my life and I'm jealous of the people I meet at munches who share openly kinky stuff on their regular Instagrams. But I also have relatives on all of my socials, including a few adult family members who take any opportunity to create drama or get on their high horses, and teenage cousins who obviously shouldn't be given information about my sex life.

I like using social media to connect with people, and it feels harder to do that when big parts of me are walled off. I'm so worried about sharing anything 'inappropriate' that I'm only presenting this bland, watered down version of myself and it makes me feel alienated. Making side accounts is one option, but it feels like compartmentalising and involves more 'personal brand' management than I care to juggle.

That's without even touching on in-person disclosures. How do I embrace these aspects of myself without acting like they're shameful, but also without being obnoxious or unfair on other people who might not want to know?

I know "authenticity" can be an unattainable ideal, especially on social media platforms that necessitate curation, but I do want to stop tying myself in so many knots over this (in the figurative, unsexy way).

Sorry for venting in your askbox.

Yeah, I have a lot of thoughts on this.

I don't worry about the potential of my speaking openly about my sex life ruining my professional life because I hate my professional life and professionalism in nearly all forms. I have nothing but contempt for the academy, social psychology, my employer, the publishing industry, 99% of the organizations that hire me to provide workshops, and a decent-sized subset of my readers who are of the more liberal end of things. Alienating myself from these institutions and people and making myself incompatible with their viewpoints feels as necessary to me as breathing air.

when I was very young I was concerned with making myself palatable to academia and shucking off everything that was unprofessional and hillbillyish and childish and weird about me, but then I learned what success within the academy really entailed. I heard faculty members shrug and say they "didn't really care" about the topics they were studying (topics like racism, sexism, transphobia, etc) and were just publishing work on these subjects to further their own careers. I was trained to use questionable research protocols that generated false positives and specious results. Nearly all the research that I worked on for three years of undergrad and five years of graduate school would eventually be discredited due to failure to replicate. And I realized that I was being taken advantage of all the while, mined for cheap labor on meaningless projects that meant nothing scientifically, making $14k a year in a field where there were no future job prospects.

by the time i finished my PhD I knew that I wanted to be nothing like the people that had trained me and taken advantage of me, and that I had useless skills in a dying field. I was plenty happy to cut the shit by then and be real about who I was, what I believed, and what was and wasn't a virtuous use of my time. This only became more pronounced after I was screwed over by even more employers as a part-time instructor, and then finally hired full-time in a department that was doing good work, but which was constantly getting undercut by those in higher up administrative positions.

My entire career I have essentially been daring people to fire me and they never seem to do it. No matter how much shit I talk about the university and my profession and no matter how much I bear about myself, I just keep getting rewarded for it and allowed to float along relatively unbothered. There's a power in having a lot of audacity. I am not ashamed of who I am and I don't worry about how my employer and colleagues see me because as a whole I have zero respect for any of them or their opinions. (I have some individual coworkers who are great! but they dont represent Psychology or Academia as a whole or its values. my coworker friends are supportive of my freaky trans kinky self).

It's much the same dynamic in my family. I have no respect for the majority of people in my family and I don't concern myself with how they might react to the things I have to say. When I first started writing openly about Autism some relatives found it deeply offensive and talked a lot of shit about me behind my back, saying that I was embarassing all of them by associating us with a disability they found shameful, but my mom communicated to those relatives in no uncertain terms that I was gonna just keep doing whatever the fuck I wanted and they'd have to find some way to deal with it.

My mom had already learned that about me firsthand. I complain about her sometimes but I do have immense gratitude to her for just accepting who I am, even if there are elements of it she can't understand and probably does not feel good about. She learned a long long time ago that I was on my own separate planet and that there was nothing she could do to stop me from running my mouth and living my life, and I'm thankful to her for that. My actions have set the tone with my family pretty clearly: i came out as trans publicly before I told them, I started hormones and changed my name/gender marker without consulting them and then told them it was a fact already and they'd need to get in line. I approach most things about myself that others might take issue with in the same way: it's a fact, it's fucking happening, and you can't tell me shit about it that is going to keep me from doing it. and if you're too much of a dick about it I might end up writing about you in a book or essay so watch out, I guess.

That sounds more vindicitive than how I actually feel most of the time, of course. I just don't think about the opinions of people I don't respect. I care about what my friends think of me, and the people I look up to, and I try to rise to a level that is worthy of them. And of course I do experience fear of ostacism and failure in those respects and have not always coped with it in a confident, principled way. But with my aunts and uncles or my boss? Fuck them. I have no desire to win their approval because I've seen what they approve of and it sucks.

All of this is possible because I am not financially reliant upon my family, of course, and because if I lose my job I would have a back-up plan. I've always done freelancing and side writing gigs, even back when I was a part-timer with really insecure teaching jobs, and so the loss of any one position has never felt that catastrophic to me. I was already released by my PhD program into economically shaky ground and I never had a prayer of having a successful tenure track academic "career", so I'm not afraid of losing that. that's already gone. I feel generally pretty confident in my ability to scratch by making a living doing this or that even if somebody fires me, and I won't have to ask relatives for money so it really does not matter if I alienate any of them. that is an IMMENSE PRIVILEGE and someone not in that position shouldn't compare themselves to me or expect themselves to have that same degree of confidence. sometimes you have to just keep your head down to survive and there's no shame in that either.

as for the question about "authenticity" as an idealized end state and how to reconcile it with social media, here are some of my thoughts: it's not authenticity if it is focused on how other people interpret you. authenticity is letting go of trying to manage what other people think about you. that means you dont ever have to broadcast everything about yourself to the public or on social media, you dont ever have to share something that you dont want to, the pursuit of being perfectly understood is one that will never be fulfilled and there is no need to make oneself unnecessarily vulnerable just for the sake of appealing to people who might not ever understand and accept you anyway. authenticity is more about an energy than about revealment. it's an energy of self acceptance, not necessarily self love, and it's not something that one broadcasts, it's something one cultivates by developing secure, supportive relationships, improving one's self knowledge, and by working through one's baggage.

[starscabaret]

How would Elizabeth react to reader wearing her jersey number on their shirt and matching their makeup to fit Elizabeth’s college colors? And what if they promised her a kiss and more if she wins?

Gameday Fluff Introduction

pairing : yandere! College Student Athlete Fem (Elizabeth) 🏀 x Fem Reader

summary : Gameday fluff really, Elizabeth and Y/N meet kinda 

warnings : n/a 

Authors note : You are a goddamn genius !!! Elizabeth is so cool and calm on the outside, very intimidating.

Today was a big game for Lizzie. This game would decide if her team went to the playoffs. As the star player, all eyes were on her. No one said it but she knew. The stadium would be jammed packed, every sports news outlet would have their cameras set up. Her coaches and teammates were worried because the team they were competing against was definitely a worthy opponent. But they knew Lizzie was strong. She’d dominate the court like she always did. 

But Lizzie couldn’t think about the game… you hadn’t been in class all week. That wasn’t like you. When you didn’t show up to Monday’s class Lizzie was sad, but she took the opportunity to focus on the lecture instead of you for once. She just assumed you were busy with something else or maybe you were sick. Oh no she didn’t want her darling sick. She would have to come to care for you ASAP. By the end of the class and you not showing she was sick with worry. 

She had to know what was wrong, where was her darling ??? She went on her burner account and checked your Instagram for clues. No new post yet. But that was normal you never posted. But then she spotted the colorful ring around your profile picture. Immediately she clicked to watch your story. There you were beautiful as ever…she looked at your picture for a long time until her eyes finally drifted to the words on the screen. “So excited for this week of field research with my colleagues!!”. A week?!?! You would be gone a whole week ?!?! But there was nothing she could do. You were already hours away for your research and you had no clue of her devout love and obsession for you. 

Lizzie skipped class Wednesday, you wouldn’t be there anyway. instead, she moped in her dorm trying to study but instead listened to your favorite songs, and writing your name with her last name in her notebook. Over and over and over again. She went to Friday’s class. Only because Student-Athletes could only miss so many classes. 

Then Saturday came, the day of the big game. But all Lizzie cared about was if you’d be back today. would you be in class on Monday? Or better yet would you be at her game? She had to push all thoughts of you from her head. It was time to play ball. Usually, she stayed logged into her burner Instagram so she would watch your every move without being caught. But on gameday, she logged into her own Instagram where she had hundreds of thousands of followers, notably you. But she didn’t think much of it, everyone followed the women’s basketball players. Your school’s team was very popular. Always ranked top ten. And since Lizzie joined as a freshman, the team had been higher ranked. Of course, you’d follow the most talked about person at your school on Instagram.

So many posts wishing her luck, posting her game highlights, and of course haters from the other teams. She scrolled through her mentions liking and thanking some important ones. She did this task mindlessly. She did it out of kindness, she wasn’t stuck up and genuinely loved all of her fans. But that’s when she saw your username… you had mentioned the women’s basketball team … and her ?!?!? on your Instagram story. 

Even though her heart was racing she clicked immediately. And there you were. In your dorm room mirror. Yes! you were back on campus. But the rest of the Instagram story made Lizzie swoon. You were outfitted in tight blue jeans, a shirt that replicated her jersey, her exact number on the front, and her last name on the back… your future last name. Oh and your makeup, a perfect cut crease with a blend of your school colors, and clear lipgloss on your perfect lips. She stared for so long and kept clicking so the story wouldn’t go away.

That’s when she saw the caption, “Game day !!! See you at 1! Go, Elizabeth Moore! I’m your biggest fan !!! I will literally kiss you if we win !!”. Oh my god! You were a women’s basketball fan ?? You knew her ??? You were her fan ?? Her gloom from you missing class this week immediately disappeared. She was floating her darling, at her game, rooting for her, wearing her last name. She had to make sure she played her best tonight … you would be in the crowd !! 

She liked your story right away and reposted it to hers with the caption “I’ll hold you to that!”. Was that too bold ?? What else would she say? She wanted to bite her nails with worry. But she wouldn’t she overheard in your lecture that you found it gross.

Immediately tons of likes and DM’s flooded in from her story. Lots asking who are you? are you two dating? Lizzie wanted to reply, “This is my darling, yes she’s mine.” But she ignored them all. Her teammate then burst into her dorm, “Hey Liz? Who’s the girl on your story she’s super cute!”

Lizzie didn’t like that but she couldn’t exactly injure her teammate and best friend before the big game. She replied with a smirk, “You’re looking at the future, Mrs. Moore”. Her teammate chuckled in response, “Yeah well I’m sure she’ll only want you if we win this game. Come on coach said we need to be at the training facility in 15 minutes.”

And with that, Lizzie checked her phone one last time before she left. She always turned off her phone at the beginning of gameday, it kept her only thinking about basketball, and you of course. She replied to the usual text from her family saying they’d be there of course. She checked Instagram one last time, and in the thousands of notifications, she saw you. You had Dmed her. The text read, “Omg, I can’t believe you saw my story, lowkey embarrassing… but I was serious about that kiss! See you at the game! I’ll be pretty close to the court. Also, I think we have a lecture together but you sit all the way in the back… let me know if you ever need any help with the class, I know you are probably super busy!”

This was her chance! Her darling was falling right into her lap! She felt like she was floating, she no longer was worried about winning today’s game. There was no other option. Her team would win. She liked your message with a red heart, so you knew she meant business. She then powered off her phone with plans to text you back, and maybe even try to see you the second her game was over.

[bahbahhh]

begin again

a lot of change happens in between Breath of the Wild and Tears of the Kingdom. let’s fill in the gaps. zelda pov | zelink | totk spoilers | multichapter | rated T zelinkweek2023 | @zelinkcommunity [ ao3 ]

Chapters: [2 ] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7]

The Calamity is gone. The remaining leaders of Hyrule gather for a Summit to determine the future of the kingdom, starting with how to repurpose all the Sheikah Technology. Zelda is among them, and while everyone still calls her Princess, she’s not sure she wants to lay claim to an old throne. What she really wants is to move on. She wants to continue her research, to prove her worth beyond her bloodline, and to spend as much time with Link as she can…which sounds an awful lot like what she wanted a hundred years ago…

[ A story set between BotW and TotK, containing many spoilers for TotK as it was born from my need to explain many of the changes we see. A tremendous thank you to @zeldaelmo who volunteered to beta read this before she knew what she was getting herself into. I am immensely thankful for your eagle eye and your patience. ]

chapter 1

for the prompt “yearning”

Zelda doesn’t have a bed. 

She thinks about this lying on the spare one in Purah’s study. She’s staying with Purah for the Hyrule Restoration Summit, which is what they are calling the first official gathering of Hyrule leaders since the fall of the Calamity, and the more she thinks about it, technically speaking, it's a cot.

It’s not unlike the one she uses when they are in Kakariko, albeit a few inches shorter, like everything else customized for a child in Purah’s lab. Zelda has to lay at an angle to fit and even so, her feet dangle over the edge when she straightens her legs. Symin offered her his bed, as Paya had in Kakariko, and like there, Zelda declined. 

When she traveled a century ago, families were forced to give up their entire homes to host her. Royal quarters were permanently built in Kakariko, Rito Village, Gerudo Town, and Zora’s Domain. Due to the hostile environment surrounding Goron City, the Gorons agreed to travel to Akkala Citadel whenever there was official business with the Royal family which, in addition to a military fortress for the Hyrulian armed forces, acted as a second residence for her family. Another bed.

But that was all before. Akkala Citadel is in ruins, all the Royal quarters have since been repurposed by their respective domains, and Zelda will never ask anything more of the people of Hyrule so long as she draws breath.

Still, selfishly, and in the safety of her own thoughts, she yearns for the comfort of a real bed. Nothing extravagant, no need for anyone in Hyrule to forfeit their comforts on her behalf. Just somewhere she can readily count on for rest when sleep decides to visit. 

That’s what Link says: a visit of sleep. 

They are alike in this way. Their internal clocks recalibrated in the prolonged absence of waking, such that their bodies don’t readily cue the need for sleep. In the beginning, it took her weeks just to register the sensation of fatigue again. She stayed awake for two full days after the final confrontation on Hyrule Field before collapsing abruptly during the climb up to Kakariko’s western entrance. Link had to carry her the rest of the way. She slept for ninety-two hours straight. 

When Zelda finally awoke, someone was smoothing her hair out of her face. Another sensory experience she needed to register again: touch. Not toxic oil on her skin, claws of shadow raking down her spine, or darkness pulling so tight it feels like it might become one with her. Actual human touch. 

She hoped it might be Link in a delayed return of her affections for a heartbeat, but when she opened her eyes, it was an old Sheikah woman at her bedside. Zelda’s expression must have soured or pulled with confusion, because the woman began to laugh. Laughter. Warm and inviting and familiar. The sound vibrated inside Zelda like a bell. She gasped, set her hands on either side of the women’s face and felt a sudden and painful ache that has accompanied every subsequent realization of her losses. 

She will never age like she was meant to. With the people of her time, with the people she loved.

And after a century in stasis, she is on the verge of being completely left behind.

“Now, it’s not that bad, is it?” Impa teased.  

Zelda didn’t answer. She wept.

It has gotten a little better in the months since she returned to her physical form. She’s started to suspect Link is “visited’ by sleep out of preference more than necessity. But really, he slept for a hundred years, so she can’t blame him for rejecting a more traditional sleep cycle. She, on the other hand, was frozen. Not sleeping, not waking, just there—like gravity itself. Holding everything and everyone in place, unnoticeable until she wasn’t, when the Calamity would slip free of her grasp, swirl about the castle, and remind Hyrule of the horrors that awaited them if she failed again. 

Zelda smudges a tear against the side of her face and turns onto her back. Regardless, she can’t help but feel like having a bed, a ceiling overhead she recognizes, and the freedom to get up and roam down to a kitchen for a slice of fruitcake when the night is still young, that she might be visited by rest more willingly when she wants it. Needs it.

Like tonight. 

“So, what you're really talking about is wanting a home,” Zelda tells herself, a habit formed in the decades of solitude. Sometimes, in periods of dormancy or resignation, the Calamity would growl back at her in a tone that was almost human. But for the most part, she started talking to herself in and out of days and throughout the years until her sense of time too was a thing Hylia claimed in penance for her failures. 

“That’s not accurate,” she chides herself and flips onto her stomach. Blaming the Goddess is a bad habit she is trying to change. When she finally unlocked her Powers, suspended in divinity, the closest to holy she’s ever been, the Goddess didn’t even answer her then. It was just the sound of her own voice, echoing back at her from inside the Calamity. 

A bed. Something simple and fixed, like the one Link has in his house right on the outskirts of the village. Zelda’s caught glimpses of it when they’ve stopped there to replenish supplies; nestled against the wall on the second floor, beneath the only window so natural light kisses him awake when he finally decides to rest. He has a small dresser for linens and travel spoils, and a bedside table that is home to a painted vase from Rito Village he often fills with fresh flowers. 

She wonders which flowers are watching over him right now. Has sleep visited him? Or is he rolling about his sheets, worrying about the Summit, trying to break old habits, or craving something warm from the cooking pot down the stairs?

If he is awake, it is likely the latter. He would be able to sleep on a night like this. The air is cool. Everyone at the Summit knows him personally; is indebted to him in some way, although he carries no ledger. He is known. Respected. Tomorrow is just another day. Sleep will visit.

Zelda’s role in all of this is yet to be defined. While news of Calamity Ganon’s defeat spread quickly, there was no whisper of the lost Princess’ return at first. Rumors focused on the disappearance of the shadow around Hyrule Castle and then later, turned into formal requests for Link’s presence in the aid of investigating the Divine Beasts sudden malfunctioning. No one asked about her.

And it was nice. 

For a brief moment, she fantasized about cutting her hair, burning her dress, and letting Zelda disappear with the embers into history. Maybe she would accompany Link as a traveling scholar under another name? Or join the Sheikah and train with the weapons she was forbidden to touch a hundred years ago?

Impa, however, had other plans. She suggested Zelda travel with Link to investigate Vah Ruta so the Zora could verify her identity. They found her old travel clothes, Link presented her with a descendant of her horse, Storm, and the dreams of obscurity ceased. The Zora instantly recognized her, adding credibility to the announcement of her return and soon, her identity grew heavy with an unspoken claim to a throne that needed rebuilding.

No one has officially said anything, but there is a generous amount of speculation surrounding tomorrow and the opportunity to reestablish a centralized and unifying governing body. If they asked it of her, she would have no choice but to accept, right? It is the duty tied to this life. This title.  

Maybe she could convince them of her usefulness as a scholar? She no longer has any restrictions on time spent researching. She could help the Sheikah redesign their technology. Perhaps to aid in the great restoration…if she could just get the Divine Beasts up and running again, they would prove so useful in the rebuilding! 

This part of her, shunned by her family and now forgotten with them, could be the key to proving her worth beyond a head to carry the crown. She will show them. She has to.  They don’t seem to know what else to do with her, otherwise. Rarely does anyone use her name, even after they realized who she is.

They all call her ‘Princess’.  

Except for Link. 

Zelda turns onto her side and inspects the empty sliver of cot beside her. She runs her hand across the weaving and thinks about how she used to be able to visit Link. When the Calamity was dormant and her Power was still new and untaxed, she would separate a part of herself from Hyrule Castle and ride the wind to the Great Plateau. She watched the seasons turn by Link’s side in the shrine until the Calamity would wake and pull her back into herself like a rubber band. This went on for decades. 

When he finally woke up and the shrine’s toll for restoring his life was realized, Zelda felt her strength begin to waver. She is not aware of a word that accurately describes the feeling of being forgotten by the person you tethered your heart to; to have it remain connected to that person and witness it drift behind them, becoming more of a dark cloud than guiding light.

Her love for him burned for a hundred years. Somehow, in the depths of a living, breathing, rageful hell, it grew. It grounded her within the swirl of eternal darkness, the unyielding burn of malice, the mourning of time. As his memories of their kingdom, their comrades, and of her, returned to him, his reckoning of it all remained indistinguishable. 

The last six months between them were uncomfortable. He never outwardly answered her question on the field. He extended his hand and led her away from the castle. He was gentle yet reserved, closer than the three paces he once stood as her appointed knight and still somehow further than when he sunk into the glowing waters of the shrine and she stepped into the center of the darkest night.  Did his love die with him on the field that day? Was it left in the spot where he bled out, where flowers now grow? Has one unknowingly ever made it back to his bedside table? Could he recognize it now? 

Did he want to? 

She glances over her shoulder quickly, half expecting him to be there like he always was all those years ago, appearing out of thin air, as a part of her as her own shadow. 

But there is no one else in the room. Her shadow is empty. Her window shut. 

Zelda turns her attention back to the empty spot beside her and begins to imagine the weight of his arms around her. The sound of his sleep. His breath on her face. The cot is small, like his bed, but in the way she imagines they might fit together, it would be enough for sleep to find her. Even on a night like this. 

But there is no one else in the room. 

Just her and a bed, that's not even a bed, that doesn’t belong to her. 

—

Sleep doesn’t visit her. 

Zelda eventually gives up and pours her energy into drafting up a proposal on how to repurpose the Sheikah Technology. The Divine Beasts will be a tremendous asset. Vah Ruta can create new water reservoirs. Vah Medoh can mass transport supplies and people across Hyrule. Vah Rudania and Vah Naboris will be essential for maneuvering the harsher terrains of each region. 

She is confident she and Robbie could reprogram the guardians and assign them different purposes. She will recommend they remove all of the mechanics for combat, save for a select few machines that will be assigned to aid in monster defense.

Their greatest challenge will be finding a new power source. When Zelda obliterated Calamity Ganon from the realm, her Light purified every non-living thing it held influence over; every pool of Malice evaporated instantly and every guardian -earthbound, skyward or decayed- from the North Akkala Beach to Daval’s Peak stopped working. Robbie has yet to find a working ancient core and hypothesizes Zelda “nuked the network”. Whatever that means. 

The Sheikah Towers and shrines remain functional, so once they isolate the remaining source of power, she is confident Robbie and Purah will be able to design and power up new cores. 

 If only she had access to the old blueprints in her study…

On her way down to the main floor, she scribbles a note about returning to the castle upon acceptance of the proposal. She folds the pages carefully and tucks them into the small leather satchel Link gave her. Purah assumes ownership of the Sheikah Slate whenever they come to Hateno, so Link presented her with a satchel enchanted by the koroks so she can carry multiple items outside of the Slate on her at all times. Link has an identical one. 

He jokingly calls it an ‘adventure pouch’.  

Purah, Symin and a few others are already buzzing about the lab. Purah has the Sheikah Slate in the Guidance Stone, a tear drop of crystal blue bouncing between the stone and the Slate every few seconds. Zelda always thought it was interesting that information takes the shape of a teardrop. Was it intentional by the Sheikah who created the technology all those years ago? Or is it just the natural form of data? Of memory? 

There is so much for them to learn.

“Good morning, Princess!” Purah says without looking up from her work. Zelda decided earlier this morning, just as the sun started peeking through her window, not to fight the title of Princess anymore. She would help them rebuild the kingdom, sit on a new throne if they asked it of her, but she would have a hand defining the responsibilities of the title. 

“Good morning,” Zelda answers. 

Purah rapidly flaps her hand in Zelda’s direction. Zelda moves into the spot beside Purah, who is balanced on her knees on a pillow in order to sit level with the table. There are sketches of the Sheikah Slate, looking very much like a six year old drew them, along with an unflattering portrait of Symin, and handwriting Zelda won’t even attempt to decipher. 

“I think I can duplicate the Slate,” Purah says, snapping her fingers.

Zelda grins. She imagines each region having their own Slate. The possibilities for research, for communication. How quickly Hyrule could share information…the problems they could solve! 

Link pushes open the door to the lab. Zelda imagines how his shoulders might relax the more Hyrule becomes connected. His burden would finally be eased...then maybe…

“Good morning!” She practically bursts. 

Link waves and crosses the room to the cooking pot. Symin starts explaining what he is cooking and Link casually dumps the entire contents into the fire. Symin sighs in relief and pulls out a notebook. Link produces the ingredients one by one from his pouch, displaying each carefully so Symin can copy the recipe. A dozen eggs, Hylian tomatoes, assorted mushrooms, a handful of greens, and a tiny bottle of Goron spice. Zelda’s mouth waters before he even starts cooking. 

She watches Link demonstrate how to slice the tomatoes before setting Symin to work, involving Symin in the salvaging of the meal and in doing so, lessening the blow of his failure. It is a change in Link’s behavior she has loved witnessing: he is eager to share his knowledge after awakening from the shrine; to spread it generously with everyone who asks for his help. In this way, he is teaching Hyrule how to need him less in the long run, a step forfeited a century ago by the pressure he felt and the structure of the role assigned to him. 

Hero, knight, swordsman; whatever title he is to carry moving forward, she will protect his freedom to define it as well. 

They eat quickly and head down the hill toward the village together. Hateno is the chosen location for the Summit because it has the largest settlement of Hylians, who, as a whole, have been without formal leadership for over a century. Central Hyrule was initially considered given the proximity for all participants, but the general consensus is six months of calm is not enough time for anyone to meet comfortably in the shadow of the castle. 

“I heard this is the first time King Dorephan has left his domain in two hundred years,” Purah whispers to Zelda as they turn the corner down the split in the road to Hateno Pasture. A farmer named Dantz offered up his land, which borders Lake Sumac, to host. The water provides an added measure of comfort for the Zora. Zelda spots King Dorephan sitting close to the shore with several elder Zora and Prince Sidon.

There are a handful of Hylians mingling with leading members of the Sheikah, Rito, Gorons, and Gerudo. 

Purah and Symin split off to join Impa, who is sitting in the shade of a nearby tree with Paya. Their movement pulls the attention of the crowd in Zelda’s direction. She watches recognition ripple across the group. The conversations soften and then die off completely at the mere sight of her. Just like old times. 

Zelda flexes her fingers. 

Suddenly, there is a hand in hers. She jumps, glancing to her side where only Link stands. He’s looking right at her, the same way everyone else is, but she doesn’t feel the weight of the crown on her shoulders in his gaze. He squeezes her hand and nods her forward.  

“Right. Okay, then,” Zelda whispers.

Link leads her around the crowd so she can make introductions before the Summit starts. She is already known to the Sheikah, who are represented by Impa, Robbie, Purah, Symin, Paya, and Cado, and the Zora. Prince Sidon embraces her and compliments Link relentlessly. 

It is Zelda’s first time meeting the Goron Boss, Bludo, who introduces Zelda to a young Goron named Yubono and emphasizes he is a descendant of Daruk, as well as the Rito Chief, Kaneli. He is joined by a Rito warrier named Teba, and his son, Tulin, who begs Link to go shooting with him later that day. Link offers the fledgling a thumbs up and then gestures like, you want to go now, quick? 

Teba scolds them both. 

Her favorite introduction is the last one. Chief Makeela Riju, who insists Zelda calls her Riju, informs Zelda the Gerudo sun has missed her and personally invites her to come meet her pet sand seal. 

There certainly is a lot of personality, but Zelda feels certain the proposal will appease them all equally. The fact Link’s hand has remained in hers the entire time only boosts her confidence. Should she request the floor immediately or wait to see if there are region-specific needs she can weave into her proposal? She wants to emphasize the importance of each region’s involvement. 

“I think it’s time,” Impa makes her way out of the shade with the other Sheikah and takes the spot closest to Zelda. “that we begin again, don’t you all agree?”

“Well said. The Zora recognize the start of the Hyrule Restoration Summit,” King Dorphean says. 

“As do the Rito.” 

“And the Gerudo.”

“The Shei-kah!” Robbie throws his hand in the air and postures. 

“Gorons,” Bludo grunts.

“The Hylians have elected four representatives: I, Reede of Hateno Village, Elder Rozel of Lurelin Village, Hudson of Tarrey Town, and Traysi for the Stable Association. We recognize the start of the Hyrule Restoration Summit.”

“I officially call this meeting to order.” Impa claps her hands together and sits. She thanks everyone for traveling and for the village of Hateno for their hospitality. She summarizes the objective of the meeting as a gathering of the people of Hyrule in preliminary discussions about plans for a massive restoration following the purge of Calamity Ganon. She explains the forum will be open, but organized, in order for accurate minute keeping. Everyone motions in favor of detailed records. There are too many nameless ruins, too many stories and lessons lost to time scattered across Hyrule.

“Since there is no old business to attend to, I suppose it might be best to open the floor up to hear any initial recommendations for the restoration?”

Link raises his hand. 

He so rarely speaks out loud that the anticipation of it commands the attention of the entire Summit immediately. It might be her imagination, but Zelda swears the wind stops, too.  

“Let the record show the Hylian Champion and Hero of the Wild, Link, has the floor,”  Impa dictates and gestures for Link to continue. Zelda fishes her proposal out from her adventure pouch and folds it in her lap. Whatever he says, she’s assuming he will have some brilliant suggestions on how the former trade routes can be optimized or offer insight into the state of Central Hyrule for an exhibition, it will provide the perfect opportunity for her to follow. 

Link turns and smiles at her as he rises. It’s small. Relaxed. The kind of smile that’s only meant for the space between two people. Which means it is meant for her. 

She smiles back. 

With her plans for the Sheikah Technology, which will no doubt be strengthened by Link’s expertise, they can face this new Hyrule together. Self-chosen, this time, not forced by fate and the responsibilities of an old kingdom. 

Her heart flutters so rapidly at the thought, it takes her brain a moment to register what he actually says:

“I propose the first step in the restoration of Hyrule should be the destruction of all Sheikah Technology.”

[ukrfeminism]

A UK academic who has completed a project creating a Wikipedia page for a woman in every country in the world is calling for more women to contribute to the world’s largest encyclopedia.

Lucy Moore, an archaeologist and curator who also works as an unpaid carer, began the mammoth project in 2021 from her sofa in Leeds, completing it last week – “unsurprisingly, perhaps, I got really stuck on Vatican City”.

She has now written biographies of 532 women since 2019, when she first became a Wikipedia editor, including scientists, monarchs, activists, writers and women whose faces are well known but their stories are not, such as Sharbat Gula, the refugee with striking green eyes pictured in the famous Afghan Girl portrait from 1984.

Less than 20% of the biographies on English language Wikipedia are about women, although this is an improvement on 16% in 2014, when “a range of different editors started to get together and say, ‘Actually, we really need to change this’,” said Moore.

She began by making a table of UN member states and partially recognised UN states, such as Kosovo and Taiwan, and worked through the list based on who caught her eye.

She has now also written dozens of entries for women in autonomous regions such as Hong Kong, Zanzibar and Tibet, and those in overseas territories.

There were many women she had expected to find already had pages, such as Julia Chinn, an enslaved woman who was the common-law wife of the ninth vice-president of the United States, Richard Mentor Johnson.

“She’s really interesting and I was really surprised no one had written about her before,” she said.

She tended to focus on women who share her interests, she said, such as poets, activists and coin specialists, known as numismatists, which is her own field.

“I find it really calming,” she said. “I can go and bury myself in something that is totally, totally different from my day to day.”

But it has not been easy. She said one of the issues was that Wikipedia required three reliable sources for each biography and, while there may have been a lot written on social media about some of the women, they may not have appeared in newspapers, especially in countries where women’s achievements are not taken seriously.

The reaction to her project has been positive, she said. “No one’s said anything nasty on Twitter, though I expect that will come.”

Moore points to the work of her fellow editor Jess Wade, who wrote a number of Wikipedia pages about female scientists, “and then another editor came along and nominated them all for deletion. It was really nasty.”

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She said there was some general criticism on social media that Wikipedia editors were “making (the gender balance) more of an issue than it actually is”.

“And I find that attitude really annoying, to be honest, because it’s men who say that primarily.”

She pointed to research from 2022 that found there were more Wikipedia entries about football and footballers than there were about women.

However, Moore added: “Some of the most prolific people who work to redress the gender balance on Wikipedia are men and I’m not sure they would all describe it as being a feminist, but that’s what they’re doing.”

Run as a non-profit, open-source encyclopedia that is free to use, Wikipedia can be edited by anyone but only a fifth of its 124,000 regularly active editors are women.

“We do need to get more women to edit, but it’s not just as simple as saying, ‘Hey, women, come and edit’, because we have so much more pressure on our time. There’s all these different studies that show that women have less time to devote to things of interest. And that’s before you even get on to being able to access sources, being able to access particular academic journal articles, which are paywalled.”

Class was also a factor in who contributes and appears on Wikipedia, as was access to education, especially in countries where women are not routinely educated.

“It just gets more and more systemic, the more you look at it,” she said.

Some of the women recognised by Moore

Julia Chinn (c. 1790 – July 1833) was an American plantation manager and enslaved woman of mixed race, who was the common-law wife of the ninth vice-president of the United States, Richard Mentor Johnson. She had two children with the plantation owner and congressman Johnson, who inherited her when his father died, though she would fulfil what at the time was considered the role of the wife of a politician. She was never freed.

Sharbat Gula (born c. 1972) is an Afghan woman who became internationally recognised as the 12-year-old subject in Afghan Girl, a 1984 portrait taken by American photojournalist Steve McCurry that was later published on the cover of National Geographic. The portrait was shot at Nasir Bagh, Pakistan, where Gula was living as a refugee after fleeing the Soviet–Afghan war. Having raised a family in Pakistan for 35 years, Gula was deported to Afghanistan in 2017, later being granted asylum in Italy.

Jeanne Gapiya-Niyonzima (born 12 July 1963, in Bujumbura) is a human rights activist from Burundi. She is the chair and founder of the National Association for Support for HIV-Positive People with Aids (ANSS) and was the first person from the country to publicly admit they had HIV. Gapiya-Niyonzima won the World Food Program prize in 2003, in 2011 addressed the United Nations committee for HIV/Aids in New York and was selected as the Burundian Woman of Courage of the Year in 2012.

Ólafía Einarsdóttir (28 July 1924 – 19 December 2017) was an Icelandic archaeologist and historian, becoming the first Icelander to complete a degree in archaeology. She taught at the University of Copenhagen and published many works about Icelandic sagas and Viking history. Ólafía was awarded an honorary doctorate by the faculty of history and philosophy at the University of Iceland in 2009. The journal Ólafía, published by the Icelandic Association of Archaeologists since 2013, is named after her.

[papastarion]

Thinking about (Dad) Astarion related to pregnancy/birth itself as an experience and how he reacts and how it affects him, because that’s what my research is focused on right now, so that’s where my brain is. (So, obvious warnings for pregnancy/birth.)

I’ve been reading some of the older material connected with D&D/lore, to get a sense of how Astarion would instinctively react to fatherhood—regarding his elven nature, not just his trauma, because I think about that enough. Even in my own canon, where that baby is very much discussed and agreed upon (but happens way faster than either Astarion or my Durge anticipated, with both of them doubtful on whether or not they could have biological children or not), there’s a lot to unpack, and it’s not always easy for him to work through it.

I’m a sucker for Astarion relearning or reconnecting with his elven attributes that have been pushed down by Cazador for so many years, so much so that he surprises himself quite often.

For instance: Elves, both male and female because gender roles are whatever to them, are very involved in pregnancy, per some old sources like Dragon Magazine. It’s almost a natural response for them. And having the baby is a group activity if born in an elven community, because it’s something they take as a chance to come together. Tav/Durge (regardless of race, but bear in mind that my Durge is a half-elf, so a lot of my writing and research has that bias to it) and he are their own little community, and his elf brain is clear on what he needs to be doing before he even really has time to process.

Astarion himself is shocked by how involved he is from the moment he finds out that they’re having a baby.

Of course he was always going to invested—it’s his baby with the first person he ever truly cared for. And of course he’s terrified, who wouldn’t be? Even standard pregnancies aren’t simple, he knows this one is undoubtedly going to be even more complicated thanks to his vampirism, which is a delicious vein (no pun intended) for angst and character study. But, like so many people have pointed out, especially with a Durge partner, he can be and is very supportive, especially during tense moments.

Is he going to be dramatic about everything? Absolutely. He’s still Astarion, after all.

He also starts making concerted efforts to learn more about vampirism in general, because there’s still so much about his condition he doesn’t know, and if he doesn’t know about himself, he’s not going to very helpful when their child is older. Sure, dhampirism will have its own nuances, but he has to start somewhere. And there’s a lot more text out there about vampires than their rare instances of producing children.

He learns early on in the pregnancy that dhampirs can crave things other than blood to feed their hunger (spinal fluid, even dreams being among them), though they can also eat as any non-vampire can. However, some sources seem to insist that blood during fetal development is good for them, regardless of what diet they follow later on. Most sources are confident that a dhampir can feed from a vampire, but if a vampire were to bite/feed on a dhampir, the vampire would be left unsatiated, and the dhampir would likely not survive, the act sending their genetics into shock (*note: this isn’t strictly lore-compliant, because I’ve read too many conflicting things, so I’ve developed my own canon.)

Astarion absolutely starts bleeding himself for them to have blood on hand, just to be safe. After all, Tav/Durge has given him so much of their blood over the course of their relationship, if his can be good for something, he’ll gladly share. Besides, if we’re talking Durge, they’d probably be fairly thrilled to try his blood. It’s not the first time they’ve consumed flesh/blood, after all.

And with their medical proficiency, a Durge partner has a field day finally getting to stick his veins. He’s just happy they’re happy. If it helps the baby, and if it entertains Durge enough to distract them from all their aches and pains, then all the better.

Astarion does his own fair share of needlework, too. He starts teaching himself how to make blankets, the idea being that he wants something warm for the baby to associate him with, given how could his touch is. He isn’t sure how reactive they’ll be to body temperature, but he doesn’t want his son or daughter not liking him because he’s too cold. Besides, his scent will be all in the material, and he knows that’ll be good for anyone with any kind of vampiric nature to make associations.

Of course, he sees to altering Tav/Durge’s clothes over the months, too. If they’re self-conscious about everything happening, he’ll even do it exclusively. No need to pay a tailor or seamstress when he can do what they can better, by candlelight if needed, and he only charges in kisses, not gold.

He also tries to learn different ways to help physically. Someone teaches him the bump-lift trick for back pain at about seven months, and if Tav/Durge wasn’t hopelessly in love before, they are now. He takes bribes for foot rubs, but he’s always available for back rubs. He’ll make tea when they don’t feel like getting up to do it. He’ll lay in bed all day if that’s what they want to do. Snuggles? They’re already wrapped in a big old blanket together. They don’t want to be touched that day? He’s got books to read and a quip about being too beautiful to be ignored, but he won’t mean it.

He tries so hard not to panic when labor starts, but he’s so convinced all his good fortune is finally going to catch up with him if things have gone smoothly. And, in his subconscious, there’s been at least some illusion regarding the reality of it all, even as he’s watched his partner change physically and felt the baby move over the months.

But there’s no more hypotheticals.

Still, he would be insistent on being involved during the delivery itself (with bells on, no doubt, if you’ve seen my previous post.) He’s more scared than he’s ever been before, but he knows Tav/Durge is scared, too, and they’re the one in pain and doing all the work. The least he can do is be with them, and he can definitely do that. If he can offer them comfort when they’re actively trying to kill him thanks to Bhaal, then he can certainly put his own nerves aside when they’re having a baby.

He’ll make jokes about blood and the mess to cover up the fact that if he wasn’t already pale as a ghost, he’d be absolutely blanched, but he won’t let go of their hand, he’ll do whatever he can to make it at least marginally better, if it’s possible. He’ll crack jokes (“You put up with me everyday, this should be nothing.” “You’re going to be fine, because if you’re not, I’m going to kill you myself.” “It’s probably too late to back out of this now, but, I mean, we could try.”) All the back rubs. Hand holding, no matter how intense that gets as things progress. He’ll even share random relevant facts that stick out in his mind from months of research. (“Did you know dhampirs do have pulses despite popular belief, they’re just so faint that they can be hard to feel? Which is good, because if a vampire were to try to bite them, they’d have a hard time finding a vein and initiating paralysis and—” “Astarion, let’s have the baby before we start thinking about their camouflage tactics.”)

Hells, if the preferred attendant (I’ve seen Halsin, Shadowheart, Jaheira, an unnamed midwife, a combo of them—I’m partial to Miss Former Head Physican herself, Dalyria), tells him he’s catching the baby when it comes, then he’s doing it. (And he’s going to be crying more than the baby afterwards.)

It’s A Lot, for sure. And there’s a lot more nuance to it all than I can fit in one post, and this one is already getting too long, but I couldn’t help myself.

Bonus: Tav/Durge cuddled up and getting in those new baby snuggles and skin to skin after everything is cleaned up and everyone’s more or less at ease, and Tav/Durge looks at him and goes: “Well done catching him/her, by the way. It was very twee.”

No, he’s never living that one down.

[transmutationisms]

hi, i was reading ur other posts and got from it that u might be a professor? i was wondering what it is you studied & ur thoughts on academia & entering it.

i'm a doctoral candidate in history so i can't speak much to stem fields and i haven't yet had to properly face the academic job market. you might be interested in some of the posts in my tagged/academia

academic work occupies a slightly odd place in a lot of public discourse because on the one hand there are many people who configure it on ideal terms as a force of enlightenment, social improvement, and self-actualisation for both student and professor. on the other hand there are those within academia (or, often, recently exiled from it) who went in with those sorts of high-minded expectations, had their dreams shattered, and now portray academic labour as uniquely or excessively exploited, monetised, and exhausting. in regards to the first group i would respond that academics work for institutions that exist to enforce hegemonic power structures; to uphold class hierarchies and the illusion of meritocratic social mobility; and to profit from the restriction of access to knowledge and debate. in regards to the second group i would say that academics are exploited by the same labour relations as any other workers in a capitalist system; that we, like all other workers, should be agitating for liberation not just for ourselves; and that this means the abolition of the university as the institution that we now know, as well as the class barriers it erects and enforces.

i can't really tell anyone whether they should go into academia or not. certainly there are things i like about it: for one, i do feel a sense that i 'get' to spend a lot of my working time reading and writing about things that i find genuinely interesting and that i think are valuable to share and study. the material benefits of having a white-collar / desk job are also real.

however, it is also true that academic jobs involve affiliations with institutions that are by nature capitalist, colonialist, exclusionary & élitist; and that the degree of security and financial stability you get from these jobs will vary widely between fields and positions (the vast majority of people who earn a phd will never become tenured professors). teaching and research are really two different jobs often bundled into one, and each presenting their own challenges. many of the things that suck about academia suck about work in general: interpersonal abuse is rife in academia and both created and enabled by its hierarchical nature and reliance on networking; it's virtually impossible to get any accommodations if you are disabled; unis are hostile to marginalised people and groups both internally and externally; you may not like your research, or even find what you do all day to be pointless, useless, or meaningless; if you have any kind of genuinely communist commitments then these will always and inherently be at odds with the institution you now rely on to survive, and that conflict continually stymies the production of radical and revolutionary theory and scholarship.

ultimately academic jobs are jobs, with all of the exploitation and baggage that entails. i think there are people who have produced, or are producing, work that is genuinely valuable, insightful, incisive, and so forth, from within the university. however, that's not what the institution is there for, it's something you have to constantly fight for and for which you may very well be professionally punished, and you should never let anyone tell you the university is the only path, or even a cooperative or altruistic path, toward doing such work, if that's what you want to do.

[leoslosttoolbelt]

What I think the demigods would major as and why

these are personal head canons dont take them too seriously :)

Percy: Education. I know that we usually hc as a Marin biology kinda guy but I genuinely think that he wouldn't be too fond of the workload but instead want to work towards being a teacher and being the kind of teacher he needed as a kid, y'know? Alternatively, I can see him being into something like baking and pastry art to take over Sally's shop.

Annabeth: Architecture. I really don't think I need to explain this one to y'all but yeah she's an architecture girly. But if we want to branch out I can also see her studying law and working in the area of Child Protection.

Leo: Astrophysics. I have this head canon of him panicking because of the sheer amount of choices that he's presented with and choosing the first one of the alphabetical list. Lucky for him, he's insanely good at it AND it'll pay well in the future. He minors in mechanical engineering and realises that although he has all the practical knowledge because of his father, his theoretical knowledge isn't as strong lol.

Piper: Food Science. I'm trying to be unique here because yeah, she could do environmental studies but I also think it would be super cool to see her learning about food and developing new vegetarian versions of food because it's something she's visibly passionate about in the books.

Nico: I can see him getting a history / philosophy related degree for his bachelors just for him to get a  doctor of philosophy (Ph. D.) in mythology or folklore. His hyperfixation runs deep and he sure as hell is going to fuel it as much as he can.

Jason: Doesn't go to college!! Is severely burnt out <3. No but like idk man I think he'd legitimately want to take it chill if that makes sense? Maybe he'd do a business major just so that he can get a job somewhere but I can't think of somewhere he'd fit in nicely. Jason does have a lot of part time jobs though!!

Frank: Nurse! Nursing school! Despite being the son of Mars I can see him being in the medical field because he wants to help people in need. It's a long journey with lots of ups and downs but finally getting his degree makes it all worth it.

Hazel: Geology because rocks. And also women in STEM!! This one directly correlates to her powers in the books as well as both of her parents! On the other hand, I can see definitely see Hazel studying in the field of archeology with the goal of being an archeologist and then eventually a museum curator :)

Reyna: Psychology!! Listen, I know this seems out of the blue but Reyna gives me the right vibes. Everyone is skeptical at first because they don't think she'd fit the mold of a clinical psychologist but that's okay because Reyna wants to further herself in research! She studies Neuropsychology and becomes a prominent researcher in her field! Please tell me you see the vision.

Will: From what I can see in the books, Emergency Medical Services degree seems like the right field for him. He's already basically a paramedic at Camp Half Blood so he knows it's naturally the right step for him. On the other hand, for something a little different - he seems like the kind of guy who might be interested in studying cinematography or art history maybe.

Travis: He studies Economics because he's so fucking convinced that he can become the next Elon Musk if he studies this. Alternatively, he studies music because he wants to travel the world and like sing with the wind and all that shit.

Connor: he's a communications major because he's a really popular youtube and technically doesn't really need to go to college but oh well he can study communications.

Drew: She goes to cosmetology school as the first step to start her own makeup and skincare empire. She's super nice to all of her clients and helps out all of the other students when they're having trouble with something! I will not tolerate any Drew slander let my girl breathe.

Pollux: Chemical Engineering. He got influenced by watching breaking bad and somehow landed himself a degree in chemical engineering. He doesn't know how he survived that degree but it doesn't matter because he decides to not give a fuck and open a coffee shop that becomes really popular because all the drinks are to die for.

Thalia: I don't really know the right terminology but she has an art related degree / tattoo apprentice so that she can work as a tattoo artist!! It fits with the thalis vision and also she is the eldest daughter who loses it lowkey so she doesn't follow your usual education route. Tattoo artist Thalia for the win!!