#look ma my art degree is useful!

[broadwayinabox]

Flour dusted over a wooden board

A pinch of salt to taste

The meat here comes in hourly

Not an appointment goes to waste

She marinates the standing fools

Before they’re shipped above

The imprudent seasoning of ghouls

For an Icarus in love.

- ‘Mrs. Lovett has a lie shoppe’ from ‘musings on a hyperfixation’

[colormepurplex2]

The Demon Is In The Details | It's Just A Box

↳ Demon!Jimin x Human!f.Reader ⤜ Crossroads Demon AU, Accidental Enthrallment ⤜ Rating: MA 🔞 ⤜ WC: 6,470 ⚠️ Crass language, demon summoning, talk of blood, demon deals, life bartering

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“Wouldn’t you rather be at home and in bed right now? I know I would,” you lament for the dozenth time since your best friend dragged you out into the middle of nowhere.

She gives you a disgruntled look from over her shoulder. “Can you stop being such a spoilsport already?”

You’re not trying to be a spoilsport. You just don’t see the appeal in trudging through the woods in the middle of the night to go bury a box of questionable items at some supposed crossroads just so nothing can happen.

“Do you really believe in this stuff, Dom?”

Dom—or Dominique Portland to almost everyone else—has been your best friend since you were both barely tall enough to see over the kitchen countertop. Inseparable only just scratches the surface of the bond you share. Your summers growing up were spent sharing her small twin bed and waking up to her mother frying bacon and flipping pancakes nearly every morning.

The silver ribbons holding her unruly space buns in place flutter in the air as she spins around and starts walking backward, her mocha eyes assessing you. “You know I do,” she finally says, a playful smirk curling the corner of her full lips, making the piercing in the center of the bottom one glitter in the soft moonlight filtering through the trees.

You’ve always found her to be a stunning human being; a bit eccentric maybe, but that only adds to her beauty, you think. The bright lilac streaks in her tightly coiled hair match the overall dye of your own, a sentiment you both think speaks volumes for the kind of friendship you have. Her cinnamon-colored skin is radiant and smooth, and she has a smile that lights up any room.

“Watch where you’re going before you trip or something. I’m not carrying your ass the three miles back to civilization,” you grouse good-naturedly, giving her shoulder a playful swat.

Dominique laughs, the sound echoing through the sparse canopy around you. But she spins back around and resumes stalking through the underbrush, the flashlight in her hand swinging wildly across the trees. Her platform combat boots make quick work of the climbing weeds and thin saplings under foot as she picks up her pace.

She started dabbling in witchy things over a decade ago, mostly crystals, tarot cards, herbs…and now summoning demons, you suppose. When she first showed you her tarot cards and the satchel of crystals her grandmother passed down to her on her eighteenth birthday, you humored her by letting her read your fortune or whatever it is she did with them, thinking it would be a phase and pass.

But, as the years went by and she continued to delve into the mystic arts and varying degrees of the occult, you realized it wouldn’t be passing; at least, not any time soon. It’s become less about humoring her and simply more about supporting your best friend in what she loves to do, even if you find it a bit unorthodox.

“We’re almost there,” Dominique sing-songs, throwing her hands up and doing what you’ve coined as her terrible impression of jazz hands. The bangles on her wrists clack together, creating a tinkling sound that you find eerie as it peals through the quiet of the forest.

“Oh, golly gosh, how exciting,” you mutter to yourself so Dom doesn’t hear your unenthusiastic sarcasm, before continuing a bit louder, “Cool. Think we’ll be back before the sun comes up? I’d like to be able to get at least a few hours of sleep before work tomorrow.”

Dominique chuckles, her shoulders swaying as if she moves to some musical beat you can’t hear. “Don’t worry yourself, my lovely friend. I’ll make sure you’re home and in bed long before the sun graces us with its warmth.”

You follow Dom through a tight squeeze between two towering trees. It opens up to a small clearing. The moon, bright and full overhead, illuminates the space like a spotlight setting the stage for a grand number. In the very center of it all stands a giant tree, the star of the show, with its branches reaching far to each side. Its leaves thread through those of the others lining the edge of the clearing.

“Wow,” you mutter in awe. “It’s so creepy it’s actually kind of pretty.”

Your friend claps delightedly, a girlish squeal of excitement echoing from her. “It’s just like Grann described. She told me stories about this place when I was little. I always wanted to come see for myself, but by the time I was old enough, I had honestly forgotten it existed.”

“Until you decided you wanted to summon a demon,” you offer, earning a giggle from Dominique.

“Until I decided I wanted to try and summon a demon,” she agrees, clicking off her flashlight and shoving it into the crossbody bag she has over her shoulder.

You follow her further into the clearing. The tree in the center seems to grow taller the closer you get, looking larger than life once you’re under the outer fringe of its branches. The leaves are dark and richly green, and the trunk looks rough, gnarled, and ancient. It must be hundreds of years old, you’d wager.

The ground underfoot changes from the soft give of grass and dirt to a harder, more resistant feel as you move ahead, just behind Dominique. “Odd,” you say, stamping your foot. The heavy thud of solid ground sounds from under your foot. “It’s almost like…” You trail off, realizing it’s exactly what it sounds like.

Beneath the layer of leaves and other debris, there is a faint, hard-packed path. You can see it now, the distinct difference in the way the grass grows. It’s like a path runs straight at the tree before bisecting to either side of it.

“A true crossroads,” Dominique announces. “Full of old magick, a pinnacle of power…so divine. Can’t you feel it?”

Whether it’s of your own accord, or Dom bringing attention to it, you’re suddenly aware of a distinct buzzing sensation crawling its way up your arms and down your spine. It feels like ants skittering over your skin and you’re just waiting for that sting of the first bite.

An uneasiness settles in, filling the pit of your stomach with wasps instead of butterflies. Something about this place feels wrong. Like one false move and the ground will open up and swallow you whole.

“I-I don’t know if I like this, Dom. This place is giving me the creeps.” You no longer find it all that beautiful. If anything, you’re fairly certain the beauty is hiding what is really underneath: pure, unadulterated wickedness.

She pulls a small tin from her back pocket and gives it a little shake. The contents inside rattle around, making you wince at the sudden, jarring sound. You watched Dominique fill the tin earlier tonight. Graveyard dirt, a few strands of hair, a photograph, a sliver of yarrow root, and a few drops of blood soaked into a square of homemade paper fit tightly into the hinge-lidded metal box that once held tiny breath mints.

Dominique explained the significance of each item, but if someone asked you right now to repeat what she said, you don’t think you could. Especially not with the anxiety deep in your gut growing in intensity with each passing second.

“There’s nothing to be worried about. It’s just a box. You said it yourself, this probably won’t work. Worse case, I get my hands dirty burying this, and then we can go home…where I will graciously accept as many ‘I told you so’s’ as you want to give me.”

You sigh, resigned to let her do this. You take a few steps back, giving Dominique a wide berth as she kneels down in the grass in front of the tree. The jeans and ribbed long-sleeve shirt you’re wearing are keeping you comfortable, but despite that, you shudder as a chill passes over you.

The words Dom mutters are incoherent to you, sounding mostly like gibberish spoken with a thick, in-the-throat accent. As soon as the incantation trails off, she pushes to her feet and brushes the dirt from her hands off onto the thighs of her jeans. The whole time her focus is lasered in on the small mound of disturbed earth where her tin now resides.

😈😈😈

Jimin

The sound of treading footfalls echo around Jimin, seeming both distant and close all at once. It’s the same every time someone decides to disturb the relative peace of a crossroads. First, it’s the sound of their footsteps, then the airy inhale and exhales of their lungs, and then comes the erratic, lub-dub of their heartbeats.

Seems it’s time to go to work. There is an order to these things, a queue of sorts, and it just so happens that now it’s his turn. It’s been a while since Jimin was summoned, though not long enough as far as he’s concerned. With the number of demons combined with the progression of disbelief among the human population, the fewer people who believe, the fewer people who demand deals.

It’s not that Jimin hates his job, per se. He quite enjoys haggling his way through pitiful souls, satiating that deep, internal ache inside himself. It’s a primal necessity, one derived from being at the top of the proverbial spiritual food chain. Yet…he’s found himself growing tired of the mundane dribble of the same tired requests.

Nothing excites him anymore, and that should be a crime punishable by a thousand years in the darkest sanguine pit of his world, he thinks. Being a demon should be fun—it once was. But, after thousands of years of hearing the same sniveling pleas and demanding offers, he desires something more…just, more.

The inside of his quarters in the Obsidian Fortress reflect his restlessness. He’s acquired some of the more baser items from his time up top. A bed he doesn’t need, furniture that would easily sell for millions at auction for its rarity. Jimin has come to covet such things, if only for the fact that he thrills in acquiring something that someone else wants so badly.

The eclectic collection now looks more ramshackle than anything, though, with the chaos of discarded clothing items and trinkets tossed about. If anyone else were to see his quarters, they might think him manic. All it would take is a simple flex of his power to right everything, to return all the clothing to their place in the armoire, and to neatly tuck his trinkets back onto the tansu in the corner.

Yet, he can’t bring himself to clean up. Not just yet, at least, he needs one more moment to enjoy this before seeing to the demanding call from above. The disorder offers comfort in its own way, something for his mind to focus on instead of the dreary, repetitive existence he seems to be trapped in. But, duty calls…unfortunately. Taking one last look around his quarters, absorbing the chaos of it all, he sighs and taps a forefinger against the side of his thigh, and in a flash, everything is as it should be.

Irritated now more than ever, he considers ignoring the call from up top for just a while longer, in spite of himself and the cleaning he just did. Not like it matters either way because whoever they are, they’re taking their sweet ass time getting to the good part. Intriguing, though, that there are two sets of footfalls. Typically people do these things on their own. But, Jimin doesn’t mind an audience. Maybe it’ll even be more exciting that way; he sure as hell could use it now.

It’s been some time since he was last called upon, but even longer than that since he had some genuine fun. Long gone are the days when the people who wanted to strike a deal actually asked for something worthwhile. No, it’s gone from selfless pleas for the health and prosperity of families to coveting millions of followers on Instagram for oneself or something equally as ridiculous—how utterly boring.

Though, he supposes, it’s no wonder humans have grown selfish, considering the world they’ve supposedly revolutionized for themselves. Sensationalized greed and loathing, poisoned with the bitter taste of caffeine and processed foods. Most would probably think that’s a treat to his kind; easy prey and all that. But, they couldn’t be more wrong.

Jimin sighs, rolling his head from side to side over his shoulders as if he could somehow rub away the itch now grating beneath his skin. His corporeal form is his preferred, even if it comes with its own set of limitations.

For instance, moving slower between his place in the underworld and up top. It burns as he wills his body to the surface. It’s a pain he welcomes, as a reminder that there is more to life than his servitude, and if he plays his cards right tonight, he’ll get to walk away with a special little treat in his pocket.

As soon as he surfaces, he flexes his power and suspends everything in the clearing in time. It gives him a moment to consider the offering and gather his bearings. Using a hand on the trunk of the tree to keep his balance, Jimin bends down and sifts through the dirt, fingers plucking the small, metal box from the earth.

The giant tree at his back is a comforting presence. It’s seen a fair amount of deals, his as well as others. Just a silent sentinel watching over each morsel of humanity bargained away. Which, thinking of that, Jimin shakes off his mental fog and refocuses on the two women standing before him.

They are both uniquely pleasing to Jimin’s eyes. He would enjoy sampling them both, given the chance. It’s a shame that’s not how these things go. Maybe if he’s persuasive enough, he can garner some sort of pleasure, even if it’s just taking in the smell of a second soul he won’t know the taste of.

Jimin bounces the tin in his hand for a second before thumbing open the lid. The contents are the usual bits and pieces. Well, usual at first glance. But, taking a closer look, he pauses…realizing there is something different about the clump of hair inside.

Sure, it’s purple, which makes it quite unique to begin with. But it’s more than that. Plucking out the hairs, Jimin brings them to his nose and gives a sniff. All reservations about tonight being any sort of mundane are quickly replaced with an assurance of fun and intrigue. Tucking the hair away and slipping the tin into his pocket, his mind begins to swirl.

He thought having an audience might make things interesting, but he never imagined this possibility in all his millennia; sure to be fun indeed. Resuming a demeanor of nonchalance, Jimin leans back against the tree and, with a flick of his wrist, allows most of the world around him to resume breathing once more.

😈😈😈

Mmm. Well, well, well, what do we have here? Two little mice come to play?

The voice is a seductive purr that licks across your psyche. It’s simultaneously inside your thoughts and in your ears, everywhere all at once. Dominique is frozen where she stands before the tree, her hands tightly fisted at her sides. She doesn’t so much as appear to be breathing.

You whip around, trying to seek the source of the voice, but your best friend is the only other being you can see in the clearing.

“W-who’s th-there?” you choke out through quivering vocal cords. “Dominique? Dom, let’s just go!”

The few steps you have to take in order to grab Dominique by the arm feel like miles with the way your feet shuffle sluggishly. It feels like you’re wading through thick mud instead of meadow grass.

As soon as your fingers brush her arm, an electric shock zings up your arm, and the scream that bursts from your lungs is a mix of pain and terror. The same instant the zap surges up your arm, a man appears lazily leaning against the tree trunk. You’re certain he wasn’t there before.

Oh. How deliciously interesting. The same voice from before reverberates through your mind and echoes in your ears. One contract. Yet…I taste the essence of two distinct souls. He pushes off from the tree and cocks his head to the side, inhuman vermillion eyes lock on Dominique in consideration.

Ignoring the fiery burn where your skin touches hers, you tug on Dominique’s arm, but no matter how hard you pull, she doesn’t budge. “Dom, this isn’t funny! Let’s go, now!” Your words are edging on hysterical. Tears of fright flood your lashline, causing you to blink rapidly to try and keep a clear eye on the strange man. “You stay away from her!”

Those haunting scarlet eyes flick in your direction, and a sly smile hooks up one corner of his pouty mouth. He doesn’t move any closer, but you’d swear that if your eyes were closed, the sweeping sensation that you feel caressing the apple of your cheek is his fingers. Fear not for your friend, little mouse. It is you that you should be concerned for. In all my millennia, never before have I come across a free soul. Tell me, is this simply a mistake, or is it intentional? Either way, I think I’ll enjoy this…yes, I think I’ll enjoy this very much.

“Oh my god. Holy shit, I did it,” Dominique whispers. Her body sways like she suddenly was released from whatever was making her immobile. The way she stares at the man with wide eyes and a half smile, you wonder if she’s even registered the last few minutes that have passed. “Look! Look, do you see him? A fucking demon! I did it!” She whoops with glee, stamping her feet in clear excitement.

“What the fuck, Dom?! Let’s get out of here!”

You try to yank on her arm again, but she shrugs you off this time, giving you another one of those disgruntled looks. “And lose this opportunity? No fucking way.” She shoos your hands away and whips her phone from her pocket, immediately thumbing to the camera and begins to film.

A solid presence at your back keeps you from taking a step backward. It feels like you’re pressed against a wall. “Dom, please!”

The man takes another step forward, coming within just a few feet of where Dominique is standing. His eyes catch the moonlight and flash like twin blood red rubies. Dark, coifed hair frames his smooth forehead, and his pert nose leads to lips that are full and glossy.

If there ever was someone that embodied all the devious, lust-filled thoughts in the world; this would be them. “A real demon,” Dom breathes. “My very own demon.”

The man—demon—tuts softly, wagging a dainty finger in the air. “I belong to no one, least of all to a sweet, little field mouse like you. If anything, it’s one of you that belongs to me.” It’s the same voice that was threading through your mind just moments before, only now it’s crystal clear and fills only your ears; it’s sweet like honeyed music. A significant contrast to the wicked words themselves.

Dominique laughs. “Me belong to you? Riiiight. Pretty sure that’s not how this works. I summoned you, demon.”

“Be that as it may, you’re not the only little mouse here,” the demon chuckles darkly. He turns slowly, his eyes cutting in your direction. “It is, in fact, your delicious friend here that seems to be caught in my web without a way out. Imagine my surprise when I’m summoned here, only to discover that there are two souls but just one contract. Seems someone made a grave mistake, judging by how she quivers just so.” You watch as the demon comes closer, pulling something from his pocket. It’s the tin, you realize, as the silver exterior flashes in the moonlight.

“What are you talking about?” You and Dominique ask at the same time.

With a thumb, the demon flicks open the small mint tin, exposing the cluster of items within. He pinches the strands of purple hair between his thumb and forefinger, pulling them from the tin. “It’s a shame, really. I assume you didn’t pull these directly from your pretty head,” he muses, devilish eyes flicking at Dom. “A brush or a comb perhaps…one that your friend may have also used a time or two.”

Dominique absently pats at her hair, fingers coiling around a few of the stray strands of purple—the same purple as your own hair—that have escaped her buns. Cold dread pours down your spine and fills your belly until you think you might be sick.

“Dom…tell me he’s not saying what I think he’s saying.”

Her breathing grows erratic, but she provides no response or affirmations for you. Because you both know exactly what happened. You watched as she plucked purple strands of hair from the boar bristle brush. A brush that you have used in a pinch a few times when you couldn’t find your own.

“B-but, she’s…she’s not the one that summoned you. I did. This is my contract, my blood sacrifice!”

The demon hums, tilting his head side to side in a thoughtful, so-so manner. “That’s the interesting part. Well, interesting for me, more’s the pity for you. You see, the blood you so graciously added to this tin here—” he gives the now closed box a little shake “—affords your soul some safety. However, without that…well, an unprotected soul is just so tantalizing and ripe for the plucking.”

“NO!” Dominique screams, throwing up her hands and stepping in front of you as if she can shield you from your fate. “I’ll do anything you want. This—this, um, my deal…yes, my deal is you have to leave my friend alone. I want to protect her soul. You can’t have her, that’s what I want!”

He throws his head back, crowing to the moon with maniacal laughter. The tailored suit jacket and white shirt covering his torso gleam as his whole body shakes. The grass beneath his shiny loafers begins to dance and sway, almost like flickering flames. The sight he presents terrifies you.

“Oh, this is going to be good,” he finally says after his laughter trails off. He smooths his hands down the lapels of his jacket as if to compose himself. “You’re essentially asking for the price of a soul. Which, being generous, is quite priceless to begin with. Anyone would be hard-pressed to give up such a delightful treat. Let’s see—” he  tucks his hands into his trouser pockets and paces a few steps away before turning back “—I think, and mind you, this is being quite nice considering…sixty years would suffice.”

“Sixty years?! Sixty years of what?”

Before the demon can answer, Dominique explains in his stead, “My life. Sixty years of my life in exchange for your soul.”

“In exchange for…what? What the actual hell is going on? Neither of us is going anywhere with this fucking psycho! Let’s just get out of here, Dom!”

Angry tears sting your eyes, but you don’t even care to stop them from sliding down your cheeks as you desperately try to pull Dominique backward. That solid, impenetrable presence is still behind you, but you ram your shoulder against it over and over, grunts of frustration ripping from your throat.

“It’s no use,” Dominique resigns with a sigh. “Neither of us can leave before the deal is sealed.”

“This is nonsense! A cruel prank. Give it up, Dom, it’s not funny!” you beg, yanking at her arm. “Just stop!”

“I can’t move,” she tells you, and you watch as her body sways on the spot like she’s trying to lift her feet but cannot. “I’m sorry, okay? I am so sorry.”

“But, it’s not real. It can’t be real! You said so yourself that this wouldn’t work! Sixty years, Dom, you’ll die!” Desperation colors your words, your voice cracking from the intensity.

Dominique turns her head to look at you, her lips parted as if she’s about to speak, but she freezes once again. It’s like she’s turned into a statue, a macabre wax replica of herself.

Calm yourself, little mouse. There is no need to panic. If the taste of her soul is any indication, she will agree with my terms. Sixty years of her life in exchange for letting you scamper away back into your little burrow, soul intact.

“She’s thirty, if you take sixty years, she’d…that’s not fair! There has to be another way.” You lick your dry lips and can feel the demon watching the quick swipe of your tongue as you do so.

One moment he is a few feet away, and the next, he’s crowding into your space, forcing you back against the invisible barrier behind you. The acrid scent of brimstone and burnt matches clogs your nose, carrying with it the subtlest hint of citrus bite.

Up this close, you’re able to see just how deep red his eyes are and how utterly flawless the expanse of his face is. The pointed tips of his canines peek out as his lips pull back in a rictus grin.

That is my price, human. Your friend gives me sixty years of her life right now and I’ll leave you alone. Perhaps, if you’re lucky, she’ll be healthy and cognisant long enough for you to say goodbye.

“And if she says no, if she doesn’t agree?” you ask in a shaky whisper.

In that case, you become mine…wholly and completely. You see, your friend was careless in her dabbling, naive and truly laughable, honestly. Such wasted potential. A sound similar to a sigh feathers through the explanation, and you can see the demon roll his eyes as if he’s annoyed with the revelation.

“Wholly and completely? Not protected?”

The blood sacrifice that is needed for summoning demons is a way to bind a demon to the rules of the crossroads. It means we’re not allowed to bring untoward harm to those we are summoned by. However, because your friend decided to be lazy and pull hair from a brush instead of from her head, combined with the lack of your blood inside that little tin, well…you’re not protected by those rules. Meaning, if I wasn’t such a nice fiend, I’d have gobbled up your sad soul the instant it was presented to me. Which is exactly what I’ll do if your friend says no.

You can tell he’s trying to make it seem like it’s Dominique’s fault. And, maybe, in many ways, it is, but you also feel responsible for indulging in this madness in the first place. But, it also seems far too simple, like— “That seems like a really shitty loophole,” you say aloud, echoing your internal sentiment. “How do I know you’re not just saying that to try and trick me? I’ve read about demons, they’re known to be liars and con artists.”

The demon reaches out and tugs lightly on a stray lock of your hair, making you hiss in pain. “At least you’re cute and smart. But, if you insist.”

He steps back, putting much-needed space between your body and his, though it puts him closer to Dominique, and your fingers itch to shove him farther away from her. Not that you think you even could. He might look slight in build, but you know it’s not his physique you’d have to contend with, but whatever demonic magick he has.

With a flick of his wrist, a giant scroll unfurls in the air. Several feet of winding parchment swirl around you. It settles on the ground in great heaps, one end held in his fingertips and the other lost somewhere among the waves. He snaps the fingers of his other hand, and Dominique completes her turn toward you, confusion instantly furrowing her brow. Whatever she was going to say dies on her tongue.

“What the fuck?” she asks absently as she looks down at the yards of paper covering the toes of her combat boots.

“Perhaps you’ll be interested in this as well,” he says, gesturing with the paper in her direction. “Considering this is your contract, after all. You both should be thanking me for this opportunity, I don’t typically do this. But, with it being a special circumstance, I figured I’d indulge before any hasty decisions are made. Go on, read between the lines. Because, as they say, the devil—well, demon,” he chuckles lightly at his own joke, “—is in the details.”

😈😈😈

Jimin

It’s cute watching the two mortals actually attempt to read the contract. The contract is written in The Dark Tongue, the language spoken by all daemon-kind, but with a little trickle of power, it appears in whatever language is necessary for the reader.

“How are we supposed to read and comprehend all this nonsense? It’s worse than reading a legal document. All of it sounds made up, jargon that a group of kids came up with or something,” you mutter under your breath.

Jimin has yet to learn your name. It would be easy to reach into your mind, or the mind of Dominique—whose name you inadvertently, yet conveniently, provided to him—and pluck it out. But, for some reason, he wishes for you to be the one to tell him on your own. 

Dominique fumbles with a length of the contract, frantically skimming. “I-I don’t know. Look, I’ll…I’ll just take it. This is my fault, my fuck up. I can’t let you be punished for something I was so careless over. It doesn’t matter what any of this says,” she shakes the contract, “because there are probably too many hidden meanings, and…you’re not going to pay for what I’ve done.”

“What? No, Dom. Shut up, okay. You don’t get to talk like that.” Your voice is thready and thin, breaking as you plead with her.

“I don’t have a choice here. I have to make a deal, regardless,” Dom mutters. She moves in close to you, her eyes flicking over to Jimin before she leans in even closer, putting her mouth close to your ear.

It takes tremendous effort for Jimin not to roll his eyes at the action. They could be miles away, whispering, and he would still be able to hear them. He listens as they start to try to devise a plan that involves keeping both of their souls. Jimin can taste the conviction in Dominique, and knows that no matter what, she’s not going to just let you go. Not without a fight, at least. But, she has the right of it. She can’t leave this glade without signing on the dotted lines. Whether on this contract or a different one.

Finally, after several minutes, the contract forgotten on the ground; it seems that Dominique and you have come up with some sort of plan. Jimin tuned out most of it, not really caring one way or another. It wouldn’t change his offer or what is required tonight.

“It’s okay, Dom. It’s going to be okay,” you reassure her in a soft voice. “I trust you.”

As Jimin swings his attention back up, letting the two figures come into focus, he makes a mental note that the tears shining in Dominique’s eyes are not mirrored in your own. Your back is straight, chin jutting out in what appears to be an attempt at courage. It’s delightful to see that you’re not a complete jellyfish.

“So, ladies, are you satisfied?”

You swallow audibly, but your resolve doesn’t wither as you stare him in the eye and shake your head. “I have a new offer, different parameters.”

Jimin suppresses the laughter that fills his chest. “Well, let’s hear it, then.”

“Before we start, w-we—I want…I want to make sure this new deal guarantees that she’s unharmed,” Dominique's voice quivers as she speaks.

One of Jimin’s perfect brows arches in curiosity. “Go on.”

“She’s not giving up sixty years of her life. That is not happening. So, I’ll go with you, but under the condition that you allow us to see each other in person once a week, right here in this clearing for as long as the moon is in the sky. Just so she knows I’m okay.” Your sass is appealing. Jimin had thought you were the more demure one of the two, but it seems maybe he was wrong.

He contemplates for a moment, considering the new parameters. “Once a year.”

“No, that’s not good enough. A lot can happen in a year. Twice a month.”

The fact you’re not even trying to bargain for your life, just time, at this point, is amusing to Jimin. It’s not often he gets to barter. Most humans just take his initial deal and think they have no other options.

“Twice a year,” he counters, interested in what you’ll suggest next, though he can feel himself grow tired with the prospect of the back-and-forth already. His intrigue instantly takes a dive.

You shake your head, accepting the hand that Dominique offers you. Your fingers squeeze around hers as tears begin to fall down her cheeks. “Once a month. Please. That isn’t asking much, I wouldn’t think.”

“Once a quarter.”

“No. No. Once a month! And you only keep her for three years,” Dominique states, her tone more demanding than he feels is warranted considering the situation. He pointedly ignores her.

“Please,” you implore, looking vulnerable for the first time since you discovered his desire for sixty years of Dominique’s life in exchange for your soul.

Jimin’s eyes flash with annoyance. “You do realize I could simply end this farce? All it would take is a snap of my fingers—” his eyes blaze with flames for a second as they bore into yours, his voice growing harsher “—and you’d be mine while your friend was left floundering. Do not think to press this any further. I will keep her for ten years and not a day less. You may have your once-a-month meeting and the only person in this sad existence who will remember you exist is her.” He flicks a hand in Dominique’s direction, making her flinch.

😈😈😈

Knowing Dominique will be safe is a relief. But the prospect of everyone in your life ceasing to know you exist is another blow you weren’t expecting. In fact, you were hoping to use that to your advantage. If Dominique could go back and file a missing persons report, it might help somehow. But now…now, that’s another option off the table.

Ten years. That’s seemingly an unfathomable amount of time now that you’re facing it; more akin to an eternity as far as you’re concerned. But, you try to remain hopeful. Whatever happens at the end of those ten years is something you’re not certain you have the mental capacity to think about right now.

You did your best to keep your voice low when you put your head together with Dom’s, not sure whether or not the demon would be able to overhear your exchange. You told Dom that she can’t give up sixty years. That you would rather endure a few years of servitude to the demon in the chance that she could discover a way to free you. If anyone could do that, you know it would be her.

She has sworn to do all that she can to see you released from his grasp. Even if she has to summon every crossroads demon between here and the other side of the world, she’s vowed to do just that. The first thing she’s going to do when she leaves his clearing is call her Grann and tell her everything. You’re confident that even if this demon erases you from everyone else’s memory, Grann will believe Dom regardless.

You straighten your spine, giving Dom’s hand a squeeze before untangling your fingers from hers. “Accept the deal, Dom. This is how it has to be.”

“I-I can’t do that,” Dominique whispers, her voice cracking with emotion. “Please don’t make me do that.”

“Dom, you have to.” You turn to her, soaking in the sight of her beautiful face while you can. “I trust you,” you say the words slowly, enunciating clearly in hopes she gets your meaning. “I’ll see you in one month, okay? One month.”

Dom’s lips tremble as they open to form the word of acquiescence. The one word that will seal your fate and her guilt.

“Yes.”

“So be it.” Jimin flicks his wrist, and the contract retracts back into its rolled-up form. He unfurls it again in the same movement, displaying it once again before you and Dominique. “Each month on this same day, we shall return here for precisely one hour’s time. Whether you show or not is your own prerogative,” Jimin directs that at Dominique before turning his gaze and focusing back on you. “You will be mine. Body, mind, and soul. You will not disobey me, you will not hesitate to do as I tell you, and you will never question me. If you do, this contract will be void, and I’ll spend the rest of eternity making you regret ever befriending this poor excuse of a witch. Is that clear?”

“Ye—” Dominique jolts forward, her free hand slapping over your mouth and cutting you off.

“Don’t. Don’t you say anything. He’s trying to trick you into an agreement that is separate from mine. You don’t have to agree to anything, don’t let him lull you into things like that. Please,” she beseeches, “be vigilant. Do not accept anything he says at face value. Always think before you agree.” Dom tears her eyes from yours, training them on the being watching your exchange. “Hear me, demon. You’ll do well to remember the first part of my demand: I want her unharmed. If she has so much as a single hair out of place the next time I see her, I swear—”

The tip of his nose twitches as his lips mash into a thin line before cutting her off, “Best hold your tongue, witch, lest I cut it out for daring to tout such nonsense. As if I would breach the terms of a contract. She will be unharmed. I may be a demon, but that does not make me a monster nor a cheat.”

Dom gives you one last searching look. You nod, letting her know it’s okay.

“I’ve already agreed, demon. Let’s finish this.” And, so, with a prick of Dominique’s thumb and a smear of blood, it’s finished…all because your best friend buried a box.

Next Chapter⇾ ◅ Back to story masterlist

◅ Back to Main Master List ©️ 2024-06-26 ColorMePurplex2

[finnlongman]

About Me, My Books, and My Research (2024 Edition)

Hi, I'm Finn, a writer, medievalist, and all-round nerd. You may know me as the author of The Butterfly Assassin, "that person who wrote the trans Cú Chulainn article", the weird nerd in the Tumblr corner writing excessively long and incomprehensibly niche posts about their research, or something else entirely. I am all of those things! (Well, depending on what the 'something else' is, anyway...)

Currently, I'm a PhD student at the University of Cambridge researching friendship in the late Ulster Cycle (c. 12th-17th centuries). I have an MA in Early and Medieval Irish from University College Cork, and wrote my thesis about Láeg mac Ríangabra, my best beloved. I also have an undergrad degree in Anglo-Saxon, Norse and Celtic from Cambridge, and wrote my dissertation about queer readings of Táin Bó Cúailnge, including transmasculine readings of Cú Chulainn.

You can find out more about my research on my website, which also includes info about all of my academic publications. This includes the aforementioned "trans Cú Chulainn article", an article about Láeg in the Death of Cú Chulainn, an article about the seven Maines, and a discussion of a conference on Caoineadh Airt Uí Laoghaire from the perspective of my own work on lament and grief. Whenever possible, I try to make my research available Open Access. If you're ever having trouble finding one of my articles, please contact me!

If you want recommendations for books about medieval Irish (or Welsh) literature, this list on my Bookshop page has all my go-to recommendations. If you buy via this link, I earn a small commission at no extra cost to you, so this is a great way to support me.

I am also an author, and I write both YA and adult novels. Again, my website is the place to go for all the info and links, but a quick summary:

The Butterfly Assassin trilogy (The Butterfly Assassin, 2022; The Hummingbird Killer, 2023; Moth to a Flame, 2024): YA thrillers about a traumatised teenage assassin who is trying (and failing) to live a normal life in a fictional closed city in Yorkshire. Featuring friendship, street art, Esperanto, zero romance, and a whole lot of murder, as well as increasingly unsubtle commentary on the UK arms industry and the military recruitment of vulnerable teenagers.

The Wolf and His King (coming Spring 2025 from Gollancz): a queer retelling of 'Bisclavret' by Marie de France which uses werewolfism as a metaphor to explore chronic pain and illness. Also very much about yearning, exile, and the mortifying ordeal of being known.

The Animals We Became (coming 2026 from Gollancz): a queertrans retelling of the Fourth Branch of the Mabinogi looking at gender, compulsory heterosexuality, and trauma, through the medium of nonconsensual animal transformations.

To Run With The Hound (coming 2027 from Gollancz): my take on the Ulster Cycle, looking at why Táin Bó Cúailnge is a tragedy and what it means to be doomed by the narrative, but not in the way you thought you were. Featuring a lot of feelings about Cú Chulainn, Fer Diad, and Láeg.

You can find out more about my recently-announced medieval retellings in this blog post.

I generally tag personal posts and selfies as “#about the author”; other than that, I think I’m pretty straightforward with my tagging system.

I’m very happy to answer questions about medieval Irish lit, my research, or my books, or just generally to chat. Send questions via asks, chat via DMs, and if you're looking for my articles, you can email me at finn [at] finnlongman [dot] com, which is also the best way to contact me for professional enquiries, whether academic or fiction related.

You can also find me on Bluesky, on Instagram, and on YouTube, where I (infrequently) retell medieval Irish stories for a general audience with lots of sarcasm and hand gestures. Technically I'm still on Twitter, but I'm trying to leave.

And finally, if you’ve found my research interesting or just generally want to support me, I have a tip jar and am always immensely grateful when somebody helps me to fund my book-buying habits: http://ko-fi.com/fianaigecht. You can also tip me directly on Tumblr if you like. I’m also a Bookshop affiliate, and you can buy books from my recommendation lists to support me and get some great reads at the same time.

[eggdrawsthings]

Hi! I wanted to ask a question and I wasn’t sure if it was too personal or not so just ignore this is you’d rather not answer, but I was wondering if you went to art school or got a degree in it? I really want to start learning and maybe one day start a career in animation and wasn’t sure whether I should spend time and resources getting a degree. I know it’s going to be different for everybody and nothings a guarantee for this field but since I love your style and technical skill I was curious whether you had done that and what were your thoughts on it or if you are self-taught.

Hey anon! No worries it's all good!

Ig I should quickly go through my art journey so you can have an overall look of why I went to art school lol.

So I'm from Vietnam. I think back in 2013 I went to a small art school in Singapore (they were the only one that gave me a scholarship). My major was 3D modeling actually, but during my final year, I realized I only wanted to draw characters for animation. I could already draw decently, so I just read The Silver Way book and built a character design portfolio on my own during this time. I was lucky I got a job as a concept artist at a small animation studio there so I learned a lot from the job. I also did a lot of self-learning and took Woulter Tulp's Expressive Character class on Schoolism.

Then after 3-ish years of working, I got sick of the tiny and dying animation industry in Singapore. I wanna do sth more than just preschool shows and I was severely underpaid lmao. So I quit my job and took the MA VisDev program at AAU. It's a little more affordable cuz u can do 1 year online and the second year on-site. The reason I went to this school even tho i could just take a VisDev class online was cuz i need the visa so i can try to break into the industry in the US.

Now back to your question. Is art school a must? No. Should you still take it? Maybe, depends on your situation. If you can afford it then hell yeah by all means. Art school is great cuz you have professors and peers to help guide you along the way so you won't get lost while trying to figure out your shit. And to have a few years just experimenting and focusing on art is a great experience. Plus you can make a lot of meaningful connections in school and it will help you a long way after you grad. But if you have to go into debt to go to art school, then don't. There are places like Schoolism, CGMA, and Warrior Art Camp where you can pick what class and from whom you wanna learn. If you are not from the US and wanna break into the industry here like me however, then yeah getting a degree is a better bet cuz you can use the student visa and OPT to hopefully get a job here (it's still very very hard tho ngl im struggling rn as we speak lmao). Also, you need a BA to work overseas so there's that too. The hard truth is studios prefer to hire locally than some rando from somewhere else and have to wait for them to relocate and shit, (unless you are exceptionally good and they'd do anything to have you, but that is super rare lol).

Even though I did go to art school, I have to say most of my skills are from self-study. It requires a lot of self-discipline but I'm pretty much obsessed with drawing and I draw everyday so it's not a problem for me. But my friend is not good at that, so she found art school/classes helped her better cuz there are deadlines and instructors to help guide her to reach her goal. So it depends on your learning style tbh.

There is this chart that can help you consider your options. Im sorry it's a very long answer, cuz yes everyone's experience is different. Feel free to drop me another ask if you still have anymore questions tho ^^

Edit: I must also add, though there are online classes and ways to self-learn animation,I do think it only truly benefit you if you know exactly what you wanna do in this industry (for example I already knew i wanna become a character designer for 2d/3D animation specifically so any books/classes i took I tailored it to fit my goal). If you are unsure what you wanna do, then maybe even a cheap animation course will do better, and then you can take extra online classes on the side.

[findafight]

part 1

It's a bright May morning, and the commentators are discussing who the Indiana Pacers are going to select. It's a bit of a buzz, there's a rumour of a dark horse candidate. The Commissioner steps up and shakes out the paper, saying clearly into the mic "the Indiana Pacers select Steve Harrington, from Roane County Community College." His face makes it clear he has no goddamn clue who or what college this is. It's fine.

Steve stands, smiling. Robin kisses his cheek and Dustin throws his arms around him before he's shuttled off to get a Pacers ballcap and take a picture with the NBA commissioner, and then to the press room to answer questions.

The reporters have dozens for him, a buzz with the shock of a community college getting a player drafted. It's the first time they'll really be able to talk to him, and he's a bit nervous. He handles it all with as much grace as he can, until someone from the Chicago Sun-Times asks

"you're from Hawkins, a town that's seen its fair share of tragedy over the last number of years. Did that have any sway over your decision?"

Steve's smile turns softer as he answers "Oh, yes. I went to R-tripC because it was close. I've got friends and family in Hawkins still, and I wasn't planning on moving any farther than Chicago. It's...a hard place to leave, after everything." he can tell which reporters have no idea what Happened in Hawkins, the confused brows, scribbles in the margins of notebooks. The Chicago Sun-Times report simply nods. "My being here is just...the result of a few lucky circumstances. The Ospreys, we're a div-four team. Not even supposed to be in any competition for March Madness. But the NCAA decided to try letting non-div one teams on the bracket...not sure if they ever will again considering our loss." there are a few chuckles around the room. The RCCC Ospreys had lost pretty spectacularly in the first round. "But, that's the only reason a scout saw me play. And the fact that the scout was for the Pacers..." Here, he doesn't mention being approached by a representative of the Sacramento Kings as well. "That was something that worked. I've always loved playing ball, but if it hadn't been with the Pacers, I'd be content playing with small local leagues in Indy."

"Has this not been a dream of yours? Playing in the NBA?"

Steve chuckles. "I've played sports my whole life. Obviously when I daydreamed about winning the Championships, or swimming at the Olympics, who didn't? But. Ah, it really came out of left field, if you pardon the baseball analogy." he swallows some of the water in front of him. "I wasn't expecting to be approached by anyone about the NBA. I played on a college team that most people don't know exists, that barley qualified for march madness and got eliminated by the end of the third quarter. I was getting my teaching degree, with guys who were getting horticulture certificates or degrees in Art history or business to help their family Ma 'n Pop store or bio degrees to use to go to masters programs in Indy. We weren't playing for dreams or glory. We played because we love the game, and like each other enough to be a cohesive team." he shrugs. "I was going to move to Indianapolis or Chicago with my wife anyways. This is just...sprinkles. Y'know? I have what I need, my loved ones are happy and healthy and safe, this is just sprinkles on the sundae."

Steve leans back and sighs. He's being signalled to wrap it up. "I'm not taking this opportunity for granted, and I am looking forward to working with and getting to know my teammates. I'll be working hard to make my hometown proud. Thank you."

[allbeendonebefore]

I have to ask nutmeg, I have to

Good to see when one is aware of one's branding ;)

nutmeg ⇢ how’s your room/home decorated? do you have a specific theme or style going on?

my bedroom is kind of a mess and will be for the foreseeable future because it's just kind of being used as storage at the moment rather than decorated. I spent the whole holiday monday moving those damn blackout curtains and my mum is still like "wouldn't drapes be better?" like ma i am working with what i already have and can afford and they do not make drapes short enough for those windows and i am no longer in possession of the sewing machine because you all took it back out of province with you aaaaaaaaaaa

but apart from the ugly but lifesaving curtains and half the bookshelves in the house being crammed into my room I try to have a few personal touches (fairy lights, a nice framed star wars poster). Most of the conscious thought goes into my office.

I'd say it's an eclectic mix of sci fi posters and local art (both mine and others) and a bunch of knicknacks both recent and from childhood. It's not so much themed as just a reflection of my life (and i also keep getting edmonton swag).

i SUPPOSE i can show pictures but be warned its mostly just me like "gotta get stuff off the floor" and not much in the way of serious thoughtful design (which requires some money and some talent). There is some feng shui though to try to balance out the "idk what i am doing" chaos.

Office

ft. ted harrison, art by a person who didnt appreciate it so i keep it out of her reach so she cant destroy it, edmonton skyline print

beluga i have had since birth, star trek / wars figurines and some other guys as well as the tops of two out of many degrees

i have been digging all my pins out of storage to put on here plus necklaces and there's all the giant roadside attractions in alberta prints made by nancy nickolson who's art i love

i had books on this shelf for my zoom background to make me look like an intellectual and then the shelves fell on my head once so i decided to move them elsewhere hahahaha so now i just look like a weirdo obsessed with edmonton transit and star trek which is true.

(ignore the stupid hat it was a gift for my dad that he absolutely doesnt want but i dont know what to do with it)

postcards from places i've lived that aren't edmonton featuring art by @en-theos hehehe

some posters including a print from fort edmonton, local art propaganda, and a very kind yelp review printed out and given to me by a frequent houseguest :)

everyone is just jealous of my edmonton swag (and my piles of roasted peanuts for the magpies)

Living Room

moved my nice zoom shelf books (contributed by @randomoranges over here (and you must understand i liked voltron Before the reboot)

there's some dinosaurs my sister painted for me, several matryoshka dolls, some montreal art, kitty cats, and very tiny elgin marbles.

this is like the gay trek/who shelf i guess?? (ignore the calgary flag that's not real)

the star wars shelf (c3po is filled with orange pekoe so that's c3pekoe) and the eclectic plant collection (some of which belongs to @quatschmachen). They're hanging out here because i blacked out my office windows during the heatwave.

i keep getting these model valley line lrts and they have to live SOMEWHERE okay

tbh now that i have many of these i am thinking of rearranging them in rainbow order but i love them sooo much.

I do have piles of art that needs to be framed languishing in drawers and stuff but that's for Later. enjoy :)

[sweet-luv-club]

The neon lights of a love hotel beckon you... Will you be staying for the night? ♡

✎ navigation links coming soon! ૮꒰˵• ﻌ •˵꒱ა

. . . ♡ masterlist

. . . ♡ list of charas i can take requests for + how i would write them

. . . ♡ my tags!!

saccha.txt = text posts

saccha.png = mi art!!

🍓🌸🍓꒰ Saccha┆he/him/hole┆artist n writer!!! ꒱🍓🌸🍓

HIIIHIHIHI my name is Saccha!!! get it bc,.,, Saccha(rine) and… my blog name iz sweet-luv-club, YEAH U GET IT TJBGJHBG,,

JUST A LIL OVEREXCITED TRANS PUPPY BOY RUNNIN A LUV HOTEL ,, there r a lot of aesthetics i wanna b associated w/, this intro post will prolly change over time lol

i wanted tew stretch out ma writing skillz n i have a lot of ideas i jus wanna throw out in2 da world,, scenarios i hope ppl would also enjoy n such!! ♡♡♡ just wanted to pump out x readers for the gayz tbh,,

as much as i love reading fempovs, i want 2 make food for other trans ppl like me ^w^ and also interact w/ other blogz!!! also sorry not sorry of my excessive use of colors and kaomojis lol!!

dis blog is where i will dump all my horny ramblings about

★⋆ Degrees of Lewdity (mentioning this game alone should indicate i dont mind dead dove stuff hfbhg)

★⋆ Call Of Duty MW2 (im only a very casual fan tho lol look man im a porn blog my content isnt gonna be that deep!!)

★⋆ The Last Of Us (specifically joel content bc im feral 4 him but im also feral 4 ellie,, WRITING ABOUT THEM SEPARATELY THO OFC LMAO)

taking requests for each >w<)b !!!

♡ ┆ stuff i will write ┆ ♡

★⋆ DRUMROLL PLEASE... THE MAIN REASON I WANTED TO MAKE THIS BLOOOG... transmasc reader content!!! 🎉🎊🥳 with warnings on what terms to be used on the naughty bits, ofc!!

with that being said....

★⋆ DDLB :3 tee hee!

★⋆mayhaps some gender neutral reader stuff!! no pronouns other than 'you',

★⋆ if i write nsfw with GN reader, i'll have separate sections for when u have afab/amab anatomy and how characters i write with would interact with em !!

so the format would go like

˗ˏˋ ꒰ König with a chubby S/O ♥ nsfw!! ꒱ ˎˊ˗

♡ ┆ headcanon

if you have AFAB anatomy…

♡ ┆ headcanon for how he'd treat u with ur coochie, gender non-specific

if you have AMAB anatomy…

♡ ┆ headcanon for how he'd treat u with ur pp, gender non-specific

most of my fics/drabbles would be gender neutral unless stated otherwise !!

plz note!!! in cases like Ellie who is explicitly and canonically a lesbian i will also only write in fempov, everyone else i write about automatically becomes readersexual meaning theyre attracted to the reader regardless of gender, appearance, etc etc so for example if ur super mad i made your big strong masculine military man a cocksucker das on u, go cry ab it somewhere else thanks (. ❛ ᴗ ❛.)

★⋆ BIG GIRTHY AGE GAPS… but readers in my stories should always b regarded as 20+!!

★⋆ and ofc hand in hand with that comes a corruption kink BAHAHAHA and as a heads up i place a heavy emphasis on virginity !!!

★⋆ yandere/obsessive content bc im a sucker for it :((

★⋆ pet play/hybrid stuff… sometimes human but most of the time it comes w the reader having animal characteristics!! (ex. bunny reader, cow reader, puppy reader etc) ONLY LIMITED TO STUFF LIKE EARS/TAIL/WINGS THO and maybe heat cycle stuff bc im a sucker for that too

★⋆ A/B/O content and dynamics

★⋆ stepcest probably???

STUFF I WONT WRITE ABOUT... no cute format for these ones LMAO 'm just gonna lump all of them together

actual incest | zoophilia content (YES I KNOW DOL IS RIFE W/ THAT BUT I ALWAYS TURN OFF BEAST TOGGLES SJHDS) | scat/piss/basically any bodily fluid aside from CUM LMAO (i'd probably make an exception 4 squirt tho,,,, 👀) | gore

das about all i can think of for neow heheh!! btw i may like and interact w blogs that have dark content or even the content i said i wont write, please be aware of that in case the posts i've liked show up :<<

i'll eventually come up w/ a list of characters im comfy with writing for, as well as a general idea of how i would write them for requests n such!! if the character u like isnt there, im still looking into how i would write content for them :>

IF U READ THIS FAR ILY BYEEEEE ♡♡♡

[celestemagnoliathewriter]

I’ve seen you mention your PhD on here before and I was wondering what made you want to pursue a PHD and did you jump straight into it after college/uni or did you wait a bit?

(I’ve toyed with the idea of pursuing one myself in the future, but I know it takes a lot of time and effort and I don’t have enough of either of those at the moment lol, so it would be quite a while before I would ever start to seriously think about it xD)

thank you @puppyduckster for this ask!!

I did not go into a PhD program right after undergrad. My undergrad degree is unrelated to my doctoral one. I thought I wanted to be one thing, got into that industry, and realized it wasn't going to be a good fit. The tl;dr of that was: I saw what upper management looked like and did not find it intriguing. It did not give me warm fuzzies for the future. I also knew it was bad when I hoped I'd break my legs on the way to work so I wouldn't have to go in. That was a big yikes moment for me.

Through a series of life-happens-to-us-all events, I got the idea to go back to school and pursue something different. It started as a class and then I spent more time daydreaming about being a professor and teaching than I did about almost anything else.

I decided to do a master's degree next, as in my current field it's practically impossible to start a PhD without an MA/MS first. I didn't get into PhD programs on my first year of trying, but I did on my second. I don't often meet people who go right from undergrad to master's to PhD. They exist, definitely, and I do think it depends on the field. Mine is in the humanities/liberal arts and sciences.

The other thing is that you can leave a PhD program if it's not a good fit. You can do a lot of things with a PhD but you don't need one, strictly speaking, unless it's an absolute requirement for your field. For me, it's definitely more of a requirement if I want a tenure track teaching position at a university. It also helps with things like getting articles and books published. Not that you can't do it without a degree, but like a lot of things in life, people just take you more seriously in academic/professional circles (again, at least in my field) with a PhD slapped at the end of your name.

I don't have to go into academia with what I'm doing, but it's the most likely path for me. That should be another deciding factor for getting a PhD - what is it that you want to do with it? If you don't have to get a PhD, don't. This isn't something I'd do again for fun. It's going to feel good to be done with it, but I'm not doing this again!

[journals-and-journeys]

Hello :) 📚☕🍁

Introduction

My name is V (short for my real name), and I'm 26 years old. My pronouns are she/her.

I've had this blog for about four years, but recently returned from a quite long tumblr hiatus. I graduated with a Master's degree in Visual Communication in England and did an internship in Australia while I was gone!

I thought I'd reintroduce myself to y'all since it's been so long since I'd been an active studyblr on here! <3

Who/what I am:

a graphic design graduate (BA & MA)

living on the countryside not far from a city in Northern Germany (I want to move back to England though)

former student in the UK 🇬🇧

former graphics intern in Wales and Australia

fluent in German and English

I also speak basic French and I'm a beginner in Spanish (planning on learning more languages)

a shy introvert (I feel more confident talking online though!)

bigender (about 60 - 70% female, the rest feels male deep down). I don't make a big deal out of it though. She/her is what I go by 100% of the time, but I don't mind he/him either!

What I love:

music (metal & rock) + concerts

travelling - I especially loved travelling through Australia! 🌏

goth-y and witchy stuff 🦉

collecting vinyl, CDs and DVDs

books - I buy more books than I read though haha

art, design and museums

languages - however I wish I didn't lack motivation to study most of the time!

food & going to restaurants

coffee, tea & cosy cafes

nature, the sea and space

animals - especially dogs and birds!

stationery & pretty journals

decorating my home

Harry Potter (proud Ravenclaw!)

summer & autumn

the UK

ancient Egypt

philosophy, psychology & paleontology

old typewriters

more stuff that I can't think of atm

What I want to achieve:

become an art director at some point in my design career

learn more about these topics: marketing, art history, linguistics, philosophy, psychology, astronomy, ancient Egypt, etc. (I love learning!)

read more books, esp. British classics 📚

draw & paint more

overcome depression

be less anxious

post more original content on here

spend less time on my phone - I'm not a social media person and only use WhatsApp and Tumblr

not be a perfectionist all the time

I might add a few more points later.

Thank you for reading! I look forward to getting to know more of you lovely people and reuniting with old friends! 💕🌻

P. S.: I follow (back) from my main blog @hardwired-to-self-destruct.

[shadesofawe]

Here's how I kept stumbling over Neil Gaiman until it brought me to the madness that is this fandom:

It all starts with Terry Pratchett. I read and enjoyed a number of discworld books as a teenager in the late 90s. Fast forward to March 2015 when I read about Sir Terry's death. I decided to honor him by reading another of his books and checked what was available on my kindle (that I had just gotten for christmas). The first novel that I didn't already know was Good Omens. I was sceptical because it was co-written by (my thoughts then:) "Neil Gaiman? Who's that random guy? Never heard of him..." but I gave it a try. I laughed. I laughed harder. It made me think. Then laugh again. We had a good time, me and the book.

I was a parent to two smallish kids. I started a new job. I broke up with the spouse. I didn't get to read much anymore. But a few years on, I read an article mentioning Coraline (the movie) in a parenting magazine. My kids were the right age and we watched it. It was the right kind of scary. I didn't connect it with Neil Gaiman at the time.

I still didn't have much time to read and slowly started getting into podcasts and audiobooks. I listened to Neverwhere while cleaning house and loved it. I decided to remember the author's name. (I did not remember it being the second name on the Good Omens title page.)

On a flea market I bought a copy of The Ultimate Hitchhiker's Guide. I knew and loved Douglas Adams from my teenage years but hadn’t read him in English. I read the foreword and found it to be written by - Neil Gaiman.

In early 2019, a friend convinced me to buy tickets for an Amanda Palmer concert later that year. (She wasn't even familiar with her music but loved her for The Art of Asking.) In preparation, I started not only listening to her music, but reading all kinds of stuff about and from her on social media. Apparently she was married to apparently famous author Neil Gaiman. Hey, I knew that guy! My friend, with a degree in American literature, said "Oh yeah, he wrote American Gods." I read American Gods. I loved it. I listened to Anansi Boys. I loved it. (This needs to be said: The concert was gut wrenchingly fabulous. I cried. I cheered. I fell in love with Amanda Palmer.)

Mind you, despite Neil Gaiman already on my radar, in autumn 2019 I had managed to not know about Good Omens (the show). I was randomly looking for something to watch on Amazon Prime to distract me from, you know, „the horrors“. (Somehow I hadn't used it much for streaming before.) There was a show that looked bright and colourful and quirky. And wasn't that the Doctor Who guy? I casually started watching and the story seemed familiar... wait, I read that book! By Terry Pratchett and - oh shit, that's the same Neil Gaiman!

There was no casual watching. I binge watched. I rewatched. I made my kids watch. I made my mother watch two episodes when she came for a visit and then gifted her the DVD for Christmas. She loves it, she loves season 2 even more.

Anyway. It was only with the show that I really started 1) connecting the dots ("the one who wrote Coraline") and 2) digging into it, looking for more stuff. (Not only Neil's though. You all know the drill.) I have been obsessed before, but I haven't been in a fandom before. I like it. The Brainrot is still going strong.

What's the point of all this? The point is: Dolphins. Tha‘ s ma point. It’s  great to discover new stuff to like (books, music, movies, but also skills, crafts, arts,…). It’s awesome to discover stuff you might have liked much earlier in your life but somehow missed out on. It’s so much fun to obsess over something to the point it leads you to discover entirely different, new things. The point is: Share your excitement, be excited around people you like. At ~40y I found myself bonding more with my Mother over Good Omens. My kid became an avid Discworld reader. In return, I got introduced to Percy Jackson. Spread the joy, be excited together.

Whoever managed to read that far: If you like, please share an unexpected joy your Good Omens or Neil Gaiman obsession has led you to. I know, there are many examples. Just pick one. I´ll start: without following Neil Gaiman on tumblr, I wouldn´t have bought a ticket for the Magnetic Fields, and I would never have discovered the music of Darren Hanlon (who was support act).

[shadowbunnydragon]

Here is a special peek into an alternate universe! One where everyone's gender is swapped! It was a lot of fun and kinda a trip to go back and rewrite previous parts of the story. I hope you all like it!

And, I hope you all like the picture WastedTimeEE drew of Marigold (the female version of Marcus) in a family photo with her mom and dad, Zelda (Zach's female alternate version) and Varun (Vanna's male form)! It came out just so gosh dang cute and sweet! You can find it here on my SoFurry page in the link below! You can also find it on Wasted's pages over there and on FurAffinity!

Found (Genderswapped Shenanigans)

By

ShadowBunnyDragon

"What's the matter, Puppy Love?" Don asked, the diminutive ram reaching up to take the large gray she-wolf's paw in his hooves. Vera looked down at her mate with a smile before letting out a sigh, her ears and tail drooping a bit.

"Sweet sawgrass, Honey Ram," she said, rubbing her temple with her free paw. "That last place... did ya see the way that guy was looking at us? Ya'd think we were drooling, snarling monsters the way he acted!"

"I know, Vera," Don said with a note of sadness in his voice, "that is to be expected. B-between us being a pred/prey couple... and my criminal history... adopting for us was never going to be easy." The ram looked down at his hooves, only to be swept up into a (near) bone crushing hug by his much larger mate.

"Honey Ram, ya've more than made up fer that. Yer a hero! Anyone who holds yer past against ya like this, ta this degree, is just bein' more stubborn than Ma can be." Don let out a surprised OOF, but recovered and started to rub his mate's arms with his hooves. "We're two mammals lookin' to give some pups a lovin' and stable home, and gettin' passed over like that... it just ain't right."

"I know, Puppy," Don said as he was set back down. He adjusted his tie and lime green sweater vest. Rather than a full suit and tie, Don had decided to dress more upscale casual, so as to leave a good impression. Vera was wearing a light blue sundress. Normally a bit more tomboyish, she too had decided that their chances would be helped by dressing up a bit. "I suppose we have no choice but to just keep pressing forward. If it's any consolation, this place seemed much more promising than the previous one when I booked our appointment. And that was after they had completed a full background check on us." Looking up at his mate, Don's heart skipped a beat when he saw the smile that grew on Vera's muzzle. He was reminded daily of just how much he loved this she-wolf. It had been five years since their tithe and the subsequent caprid ceremony, but they still acted like newlyweds.

"I really hope that there's a little pup and lamb in there that we can open our home to," Vera said, standing up straighter and smoothing out her dress.

"I'm sure we will!" Holding his hoof in her much larger paw, Vera and Don walked up the well-maintained sidewalk path, Vera spotting the sign on the manicured front lawn.

"Warm Hearts, Warm Hearth's Children's Center," she read aloud. The red brick building, not being too far from Little Rodentia, was itself a bit on the small side. From the children's drawings taped to the windows to how well-kept the property was, it gave off more of a cozy feeling, as opposed to the more austere feeling the last facility gave off. It was a very welcome contrast to the couple as they entered the front doorway.

"Welcome," said a male kangaroo with a kind smile as he entered the reception area, wearing a simple white t-shirt and jeans. Out from a nearby doorway came the excited squeals and happy laughter of children. "How can I help you?"

"W-we're the Hunter-Bellwethers. I believe that we spoke on the phone?" Don said, adjusting his glasses.

"Ah yes," the kangaroo said, heading on over to his desk and motioning for the couple to sit down in the chairs opposite it. "It's nice to meet you, Mr. and Mrs. Hunter-Bellwether. I'm Adam Hopper, by the way, director here at Warm Hearts, Warm Hearths. You two are early, by the way."

"We're just that eager ta adopt," Vera said, still holding Don's hoof in her paw. She could feel him give her a reassuring squeeze.

"I like that," Adam said, "and if you two are here, then that means that you have been approved to adopt."

The wolf and ram could hardly believe their ears. They shared a look, both with excited grins on their faces, before looking back to Adam.

"That's wonderful news," Don said. Vera was silent, but her tail thumping her chair spoke volumes to her joy. It was then that Don spotted a small wire picture frame on the desk, containing a picture of the kangaroo before them and a tiger, both wearing white tuxedos, the latter nuzzling the former. Don had to stop himself from cooing at how precious the moment captured was, but Adam seemed to have noticed. There was a certain sparkle in his eye as he continued.

"My mate and I know how hard it can be for pred/prey couples to adopt. But I want to assure you both that you have nothing to worry about moving forward."

"Uhm," Don said, shifting a bit in his seat, "a-are you sure? I mean... y-you must know about my... past."

"Mr. Hunter-Bellwether," Adam said, taking note of how the she-wolf leaned down to hug her smaller mate, "everyone makes mistakes in their past. What is important is that you have not only been able to move past it, but even gone on to become a hero to the entire city, at great risk to yourself no less. I promise you, there is no problem here." Don and Vera both felt assured by that. "Now, moving on, you said on the phone that you would prefer children older than infants or toddlers?"

"Y-yes," Don said, feeling suddenly nervous again.

"We know that most couples tend ta adopt the really little ones more than the older pups," Vera explained, "so we were hopin' ta make a difference fer some pups more in the six ta nine age-range."

"Understandable, and you really will." Adam smiled again, quickly getting back to business. "Now, you also expressed a desire to adopt a wolf and a sheep? May I ask why that is?"

"W-well, we felt that it would probably help us to connect with them and better guide them through certain things and instincts in life. L-like the headbutting phase," Don said with a blush. He received a kiss to his forehead from Vera.

"And o'course, the howling urges," the she-wolf said simply. "But we'll still happily adopt outside our species, so it's not a dealbreaker."

"Absolutely! We just want to be parents!" Don chimed in.

Adam chuckled at that. "That's good to hear," he said, pulling out a file from his desk and opening it. He grabbed a photo and passed it to the couple. "As it just so happens, we have a trio that fits what you're looking for almost perfectly." The ram and she-wolf looked down at the photo to see three young mammals, smiling and hugging in a pose for the camera. One was a black wolf pup, wearing a yellow t-shirt and blue shorts, with bright yellow eyes. Then there was a little black-wooled ewe, in a yellow sundress. And sandwiched in between the two was... a largely furless mammal. He, as Don presumed the child was a boy, was wearing a similar shirt and shorts to the wolf pup. He had a shaggy patch of chestnut brown fur atop his head, but based on the rest of his face and arms and legs, he looked like he was otherwise devoid of any fur.

"This cute little trio think of each other as siblings, and have refused to be separated. The oldest, the little wolf boy, is Alex. He's eight. Tiffany, a sweetheart, is the ewe, and she's seven. And there in the middle is little Leon. He's six."

"Oh my... well, we only discussed having two lambs... but I don't think that three would be a problem, Puppy?" Don looked up at his mate, who was looking between him and the picture. Her tail was still wagging.

"True... three is a bigger commitment than two already was... but I ain't gunna go separatin' siblings from one another, even ones not related by blood. Though, I gotta ask, what species is little Leon? Don't get me wrong, he seems just as adorable as his brother and sister. I just never saw one of... whatever he is before," Vera said.

Adam began to rub the back of his head, looking uncomfortable. "Well, that's the thing. We don't know. We even had a sample of his DNA tested, but all we got back was an Unknown. And he doesn't match any kind of species on any registry we've been able to find. So... he's still an unknown species. And all we have to go on is that he was picked up from the streets at around age three or four."

"Oh," Don said, looking down at the picture again. "The poor little guy. He must've been so scared!"

Vera frowned at the thought of a child that young being all alone without anyone to take care of them, and let out a small whine. "Not knowin' what his species is might make it a bit harder ta relate ta him or some of the things his species goes through as they get older... but whatever he is. He and his brother and sister are more than welcome ta join our little pack... if'n they want. Right, Ramchop?"

Don looked up at his mate and, hopping up in his seat, he reached up to kiss his she-wolf on her nose.

"Of course, Puppy," Don said, handing back the photo to Adam, who kept in a snicker at how cute the couple across from him was together.

"Well, in that case, how about we introduce you two to them, and move on from there?" With an enthusiastic assent from the couple, Adam got up and led them through a short hallway into a room with some couches in it. Vera and Don took a seat on a maroon leather couch across from a navy blue one and waited while the kangaroo exited to go and get the children. Adam returned shortly afterwards, herding three young mammals into the room. Right away, Don and Vera noticed how Alex, who was wearing a red shirt with black shorts, was placing himself in front of the other two protectively, looking over at the two strange mammals with determined yellow eyes. Tiffany, who was wearing a blue dress similar to Vera's with a matching bow on her head floof, and Leon, who was in a green shirt and blue shorts, were both looking over his shoulder, soft hazel and curious deep blue respectively. Leon, despite being the youngest, seemed to be taller than his brother and sister, and was hugging a green stuffed dragon to his chest. Nervously, the three walked to the other couch and took a seat on it, huddling close together. Don and Vera both had to hold back a coo at the cuteness.

"Alex, Tiffany, Leon, this is Mr. and Mrs. Hunter-Bellwether; what do we say when we meet new people?" Adam asked in a gentle voice.

"H-hi," Tiffany spoke first. This was chorused by Leon and Alex.

"Hi there, pups!" Vera said, excited. Her tail was making a thumping sound against the couch where she sat, and that made Leon and Tiffany giggle. Alex turned to look at his siblings, before looking back at the strange couple before them.

"It's a pleasure to meet you three," Don said, beaming at the little lambs. After the initial introductions, the conversation continued, albeit a bit awkwardly at first. Don and Vera learned that Alex loved soccer, Tiffany enjoyed writing, and Leon liked to draw and explore.

"Are you going to adopt us?" Tiffany asked, putting a hoof around Leon and pulling him into a side hug. "'Cause Leon's our baby brother, and where we go, he comes with." The little ewe was polite, but very firm in her statement. Adam looked shocked and a little worriedly at Don and Vera, who both seemed to be holding back chuckles at the brave little lamb.

"Well, if y'all three don't mind the idea of us becommin' yer parents, we really would like ta adopt all three of ya," Vera said. At that, the pups seemed to relax a bit.

"You three do deserve to know that... because we're a predator and prey couple, we sometimes receive harassment for it. And... well, we just wanted to make sure you knew that, before deciding if you would like to come home with us." Don suddenly realized just how nervous he felt at that moment. Vera took his hoof in her paw and gave it another reassuring squeeze. The children huddled together on the couch, whispering to each other. Vera's ears twitched as she heard Leon's voice lightly drift over as he said "I think they're nice." Seeming to have reached a consensus, the three broke apart the huddle and, with Alex acting as the spokemammal for their group, he cleared his throat.

"... So long as me, my brother, and my sister can all stay together... then yes," Alex said, starting off sounding confident and strong, but his voice breaking a little at the end there, his little tail tucking itself as his ears started to droop a bit. Vera felt an urge to go over and give the pup a hug, but restrained herself. Instead, she and Don excitedly grinned and spoke with the children for almost another half an hour. When it was time for them to go, Adam led the children away, returning to see the couple out, and assure them that from that point onward, the adoption process was going to be much quicker. In a few more days, the couple would be able to take their children home with them. Walking back out and towards the minivan they had gotten, the she-wolf stopped and swept her mate up into another hug, which he was of course happy to return.

"This is really happening, Honey Ram," Vera said "it's like a dream!"

"I know, Puppy," Don said, suddenly finding himself sitting on Vera's shoulder. He let out an involuntary laugh-bleat. "We're about to become parents! Oh! There is so much we need to do now!"

"I know, darlin'! We gotta start clearin' out a third room, and triple check that the house is safe fer pups. And then we should probably hit up a toy store or two, and we'll need ta get a third bed for Leon, and then--" Vera was cut off by Don grabbing her head and turning it towards him. His lips met hers, and she instinctively wrapped her arms around him. Breaking apart, she felt a bit calmer, although her tail felt like it might just go ahead and break off from how hard it was wagging.

"Y'know, Honey Ram," Vera said as they continued to their car, now a husky tone to her voice, "when we get home, just because we're adoptin', that doesn't mean we can't try the old fashioned way to have yet another pup runnin' around with the three we're already gettin'." As the two buckled up, with Vera in the driver's seat, she leaned over and began to nuzzle the now-blushing Don, who had to remove his fogged-up glasses.

"I do believe that you make a very valid point, Puppy Love," he said, turning to look up at his mate with love and adoration in his eyes, that were mirrored in the bright green ones looking back at him. The two shared another kiss just as Vera turned the key in the ignition.

* * *

"Thankfully she was brought in when she was. The injury to the leg was beginning to show signs of infection," Doctor Catson said, adjusting her glasses as she looked up at Doreen. The lynx was consulting a chart, a slight frown on her muzzle. "If she had been out there much longer, she'd be potentially looking at a major infection. Which, when considering how malnourished she is, and her living conditions..." she trailed off, not needing to spell it out to the law she-wolf.

"Accordin' to my daughter and her mate, the two did some poking around the areas they believed she was livin'. Apparently she's been living off of foragin' and creek water, and some kinda canned foods. Sleepin' outside, I'm surprised she didn't get pneumonia, considerin' how wet and cold it's been lately."

"It's a miracle she was found when she was... but there's something else." Doctor Catson's small frown was now much more pronounced. This made Doreen pause.

"What is it, Layla?"

"Based... on her behavior, as well as some physical scarring, I believe that she had been subjected to physical abuse," the lynx said, her ears drooping.

Doreen grimaced but nodded, having had a similar thought based on how terrified the girl had been. Not to mention how she jumped from even the slightest noise or whenever someone spoke.

"Ya mentioned scarring?"

Layla nodded, shuffling her documents a bit, holding out a couple of photos to the white she-wolf. Doreen looked them over.

"There's scarring on the backs of her paws, but those pale in comparison to the ones on her back."

Doreen saw for herself in the picture, the small series of faded pink lines going down the backs of the child's paws. It was when she looked at the photo of her back that caused Doreen to wince, and even let out a whine. The child's back was a crisscross network of much larger, more fervent-looking scars that were much more pronounced, and nearly covered the entirety of her back. Doreen handed the photos back, a sick feeling in her gut.

"Know what coulda done something like that?" Doreen asked, a few ideas of her own in the back of her mind.

"Well, a knife or even a claw is not entirely out of the realm of possibility. However, it is in my opinion that the injuries to her back were caused by a whip."

Doreen winced again, the idea of those having been scars from a whip having been a theory that she was hoping had not been the case. After confirming that Child Services had been contacted, Doreen started to head towards the room that the mystery mammal was in, an idea beginning to take root in her mind. She quietly opened the door, entering with a practiced warm smile on her muzzle, taking slow and deliberate steps so as not to spook her.

"Now, Pup," Doreen said as she settled into the chair by the hospital bed. She looked at the older mystery mammal, who sat there in a hospital gown, hugging her knees to her chest. She looked upon the older law she-wolf with blue eyes filled with worry and fear. Doreen tok some solace in the fact that the girl was no longer shivering. "How about we start with somethin' simple, like yer name?"

"M-my name?" the young girl asked, scooting a little bit away on the bed, looking confused.

"Yep. Mine's Doreen." She gave what she hoped was a comforting smile.

"U-uh..." The girl looked away as she started to speak, now trying to make her voice sound deeper. "M-Marcus."

Doreen sighed and shook her head, internally muttering something about Pups not being good at lying. "Sorry, Pup, but yer gunna have ta do better than that."

Flinching a little, the furless mammal looked to be mulling it over. "Uh... I m-meant to say... my name's Eli?" Doreen just looked at her with an unamused, half-lidded stare. "B-Barry," she squeaked out, the falsetto now gone. After a moment of silence, she hanged her head, realizing the jig was up, and looked Doreen in the eyes. "M-my name is a-actually... Marigold."

Doreen's tail started to wag as her frown broke into a happy smile. "See? That wasn't so hard, now was it?"

"... I g-guess not," Marigold said, gulping audibly.

"Now, mind tellin' me why you tried ta claim y'all were a boy?"

"... B-because p-people always said b-bad things happen to girls when they go into the 'system'," Marigold said.

"I promise that nothin's gunna happen ta ya so long as I'm around, Miss Marigold. Ya can count on that," Doreen said with a wag of her tail. "Now, how old are ya?"

"... 18."

Doreen sighed and just silently sat there, staring at the girl. Marigold fidgeted and squirmed before sighing.

"I j-just turned 12," she said, now a look of pleading in her eyes. "P-please don't p-put me in the system! I can take care of myself!"

"Oh, can ya now?" Doreen asked, pointedly looking to the bandage wrapped around the girl's calf. "'Cause according ta the doctor, that little injury there was close ta becomin' infected. And also, from the tests they ran, yer pretty underweight. How long were you out in the woods?"

"Uh... m-maybe a month?"

"And ya were by yerself that whole time?"

Marigold just nodded silently at that, a couple silent tears streaming down her pale cheeks. The sight hurt the she-wolf's heart. Looking at the vulnerable, frightened young girl sitting there, Doreen couldn't help thinking about her own girls. The idea of any one of them, being left alone at such a young age, to fend for themselves in the wilderness, made Doreen want to howl in anger and sorrow.

"Where are yer parents?" Doreen asked. Seeing how the girl began to hyperventilate at that question, once she calmed back down, the she-wolf decided to hold off on questioning further in that area for the time being. Noticing how the girl kept nodding off, Doreen smiled.

"Ya know, yer not the first of yer species I've encountered," Doreen said, taking note of the look of worry in the girl's eyes.

"I-I'm not?"

"Nope. My daughter and her mate actually adopted a group of pups not too long ago, and the youngest, my little grandson Leon, is one of yer species. And he's just the sweetest little guy. But the thing of it is... he doesn't know what yer species is called, and no one we've been askin' seems to have encountered anyone like y'all before either. So I was wonderin' iffin' you could tell me what yer species' name is?"

"... H-human," Marigold said in a faint voice, looking very confused.

"Uman? Mind spellin' that fer me?" Marigold did, after stifling a yawn.

"Okay, you've answered enough questions so far, missy. Right now it looks ta me like you could use some shuteye," Doreen said. While her mate Addy was the more emotional and nurturing of their tithing, she still had mothering skills she had developed after raising seven pups. The older she-wolf gently took the blanket and pulled it up over Marigold. The furless young mammal seemed surprised at first, before letting out a big yawn and laying down.

"Uhm... th-thank you, sheriff," Marigold said in a sleepy voice.

"Yer welcome, Marigold. Now, we'll be nearby if ya need us. I promise, ya ain't gunna be alone anymore," Doreen said softly as she exited the room. Walking out into the waiting area, she had to hold back a snort. She saw Yuki sitting with her arms crossed, looking annoyed, with a large quartz crystal sitting on her head. Right next to her was Undine, who was slowly waving another, smaller crystal, looking like an amethyst, around Yuki's head.

"This will align your chakras and help alleviate some of that stress I am sensing coming off you, Yuke." Doreen held back a chuckle at the sight of her daughters, the two younger black she-wolves oblivious to their mother's amusement. It was while looking around that Doreen spotted just the russet-and gray-colored she-wolf she was looking for, currently talking on her phone.

"Zelda," Doreen said, getting her attention. Zelda saw that her mother was motioning for her to follow, so she made quick work of hanging up and entering an empty room right behind Doreen. With the door closed, the white wolf looked upon her daughter with a smile on her muzzle.

"So what's happenin' with the girl, Ma?" Zelda asked.

"Well, that's what I wanted ta talk to ya about, Hun," Doreen started, a sly smile on her muzzle. "See, as ya can tell, she's had a bit of a rough go o' thangs, and is now all alone. And I personally hate the idea of her just goin' ta some foster home where she will be the only known member of her species. And, what's more, Vera and Don haven't been able to uncover any information about Leon's species, so it wouldn't really be a benefit fer anyone fer the poor gal ta just be shipped off to who knows where and surrounded by strangers. At least here we've been able to build a rapport..."

At that, Zelda's ears perked up and her tail started to wag. "So you and Pa are gunna take her in!"

Doreen chuckled at that. "Well, I'm sure Addy would be more than happy ta. But, we're makin' some... alterations at the ranch."

"So Don and Vera then?"

"I'd be willin' ta bet good money that they'd be willin' ta as well, but with the new pups 'n all, they don't really got that much space..."

"But, then, who else? Yuki and Adamo have barely enough time fer themselves over in Seaotter, and... wait a sec, Ma. Hold the phone!"

"What? You and Varun have that big 'ol house all ta yerselves, plus I know that Addy would just love to have another grandpup nearby ta dote on and spoil."

"Yeah, but," Zelda said, now looking thoughtful.

"Plus she's gunna need some stability with a good, permanent home. And you and Varun said ya were both talkin' 'bout adoptin'."

"... I'll have ta talk with Varun about this first," Zelda said, sounding like her mind was elsewhere, her tail starting to wag. Doreen bit down on a smirk, knowing that her daughter had already been sold on the idea.

"Absolutely! You go on and think what I said over and talk to yer mate." Doreen watched Zelda head out the door to look for the large tiger, and waited until she was out of earshot before pulling out her phone. Tapping on it, she dialed up a number. The other end rang a few times before it was picked up.

"Hey, Xena, I'm so sorry, Sweetheart, I know ya and Melly are enjoyin' some much needed R and R, but Zelda and Varun really need yer help right now. See, they decided ta become foster parents. Yes, that's right, the pup we found in the woods."

Elsewhere in the hospital, Zelda had found her mate sitting with the other Hunter boys (as they like to call themselves), with Tarin having been sitting on his head. Seeing his mate wanting a word alone, he had plucked the black-furred fox tod off his head, and instead deposited the small canid onto the head of a certain hyena.

"Hey! My head ain't no jungle-gym!" Adamo barked out in his Barx accent. Varun chuckled as he walked off so he and Zelda could speak. Of all the things he had been expecting, what came out of his she-wolf's mouth was not one of them.

"You want us to become foster parents to that poor girl?" he asked, scratching his chin.

"I know it's sudden, but we need ta act now! She needs stability and Ma and Pa can't provide it 'cause... well, Ma didn't elaborate as ta why she and Pa can't do it, but the point still stands!"

"Hmm," Varun looked to be deep in thought as Zelda continued.

"Plus, Don and Vera need all the help they can get in understanding all they can about Leon's species. And on top of that we've both agreed that we want to adopt. Granted, we thought about getting a feline or a canid child, but I think we could provide an excellent home for her and--"

"I agree," Varun said, his deep and soft voice cutting off the she-wolf mid-explanation.

"... Huh?" Zelda was stunned.

Varun chuffed happily and smiled at his mate, his tail swishing as he wrapped his powerful arms around her waist, making her blush as he nuzzled the top of her head.

"I'll admit I'm a little nervous about becoming a father, even a foster father. But... I like the idea of opening our home to the poor girl. And with Mama and Papa Hunter being nearby, it's not like we would be truly on our own."

Zelda's tail became a blur of joy, fighting back the urge to howl in pure excitement. She had been warned twice before if she did so in the hospital again that she would be given a fine. "I know we're probably gunna have ta take it slow... but I'm just so excited at the idea! Us, having a daughter!" The two shared a long and passionate kiss.

* * *

Morning sunlight cascaded through the bedroom window, bathing everything it touched in a warm golden glow. This included the cuddled up forms of Vera and Don, the former of which was practically encircling the latter with her body. Slowly, the two began to stir. Don's eyes fluttered open as he buried his face in his mate's neck ruff, while Vera affectionately nuzzled his head floof.

"Mornin', Floofy," Vera said with a smile, her tail thumping the bed.

"Good morning, Puppy," Don replied with a yawn and a smile.

Vera looked her mate over as she stretched a little. "Ya had the dream again, didn't'cha?"

The ram winced and nodded. "Y-yes, but instead of it just being Diana and my m-mother, there were also what I think my subconscious decided were what adult humans looked like for my dream. Only instead of looking more like Marigold or just a taller Leon, they had long gangly arms with many different joints, and could unhinge their jaws. And they kept trying to take Leon away with them." Don shuddered at the memory of the dream, feeling comfort from Vera gently pulling him closer.

"Hey, now, that's never gunna happen, Darlin'," Vera said, looking Don in the eye. "Leon, just like his brother and sister, is our pup, and no one is gunna take any of them from us."

"I know, Puppy Love... but a part of me just can't stop worrying."

"That's just you being a good dad." Vera smiled and kissed her ram on his nose, making him blush and let out a happy bleat. Don snickered and reached up into Vera's ruff, easily finding the spot he was looking for and scratching it. Vera's right leg immediately started to twitch as her tongue lolled out and she rolled over, unable to stop herself. Don stopped when he heard some giggling coming from their bedroom door. Vera's ears twitching at the sound, the two turned to look and saw their children poking their heads through, only to suddenly dart back out having been caught.

"Am I correct to believe that some little lambs decided to peek in on Mommy and Daddy this morning?" Don called out with a smile on his muzzle. There were some giggles outside the door, before the children apparently composed themselves, and opened it properly. In they came, with Alex in the lead carrying a tray with food on it, followed close behind by Tiffany, who was cuddling her new wolf plush named Mrs. Sniffy, and Leon, who was carrying a relaxing Sir Callibrie in his arms, the little lizard looking about and letting out a content chirp. The children were still all in their pj's, Alex in his soccer-themed pajamas, Tiffany in her yellow nightgown, and Leon wearing his much-too-large for him black Samurai Snakes t-shirt over gray pajama bottoms.

"Happy birthday, Daddy!" the little human boy called out in excitement.

"Uh... w-we thought you might like breakfast in bed?" Alex said, looking away and trying to sound casual, but his perked up ears and slowly wagging tail were a dead giveaway for his anticipation. Don let out a coo at the cuteness before him as Vera chuckled and the two disentangled to allow the children to approach.

"Well now, that sounds so thoughtful," the ram said, grabbing his glasses from the bedside table and putting them on. Alex carefully, but quickly walked over to set the tray down in front of Don. "Now, what do we have here? Oh! Why, is that a fruit salad I spy?" Seeing Alex blush beneath his dark fur while looking away was a dead giveaway to Don. "Do I have you to thank for this thoughtful and tasty-looking salad, Alex?"

"Uh... w-well... yeah," Alex smiled as Don took a few bits of the cubed honeydew and mango, popping a strawberry in his mouth as well.

"It's delicious, thank you, Alex," Don said, leaning over and pulling his oldest son into a hug. The young wolf let out a surprised yip, but was quick to return the hug, now blushing more.

"And what's this little treat here?" Vera asked, pointing to two pieces of toast that appeared to have some kind of black frosting spread over them, with a white face drawn on, and plenty of black and white and purple sprinkles.

"I made Pirate Toast!" Leon said proudly, setting a squirming Sir Callibrie down on the bed, who darted over to Dawn and up his arm, coming to rest on his head floof, curling up to relax once again.

"Pirate Toast? Now that sounds adventurous," Don said, picking up a slice. "Did you design them to look like little pirate flags?" He smiled when Leon proudly nodded. "You are such a little artist! They look just like the real thing... only toastier!" That got a giggle from the lambs.

"I used the vanilla cake frosting I found in the cupboard, and didja know that if you mix the red, green, and blue food colorings together in it, it turns black?"

"I certainly didn't," Vera said, scooping Leon and Tiffany into her arms and setting them on her lap, her tail thumping. "What else is in it?"

"Well, I also added some sprinkles I found," Leon said as Don took a big bite of his toast, "and some red glitter!" Don froze at that, immediately feeling the tiny pieces of decorative plastic in his mouth. Vera looked to be holding back a snicker while Don continued to chew his bite, giving it a swallow while Leon looked on with joy in his eyes.

"Ah, so you did. Well... that is truly delicious, buddy, thank you." Don was quick to grab the glass of cloudy dark liquid and take a sip. It had a sweet, citrusy taste to it. "Oh my, this is lovely. What is this juice?"

"I made you Outer Space Juice, Daddy!" Tiffany squeaked.

"Now what's all in Outer Space Juice, sweetie-pie?" Vera asked, looking down at the ewe in her lap. Tiffany gazed back up at her mother with a bright smile.

"It's cranberry juice with the powdered orange drink for Astronauts mixed in! Though I wanted to pour some Deep Space Cocoa Spheres in, Alex said not to." Tiffany was very matter-of-factly about her response, letting out a giggle when Vera gave both her and her little brother a loving squeeze.

"We can make some more juice and fruit salads and pirate toast for everybody," Leon chimed in, prompting Vera to stand up, setting the two of her younger pups on her shoulders.

"Why don't I come down and help y'all with that, honey?"

"'Kay, Mommy!" Leon reached over and wrapped his little arms around her neck. The she-wolf's tail started to wag while she looked at her mate and gave him a wink. Don looked relieved as, with Leon watching, he hesitantly took another bite of the pirate toast. With the younger lambs now out of the room and down the stairs, Don sighed with relief and let out a chuckle. He then looked over to Alex, who was shuffling uncomfortably on his paws.

"Something wrong, Alex?" Don asked.

"Uh... I guess while I was busy keeping the cereal out of the juice, I musta missed Leon getting the glitter... sorry," Alex said, only to find himself being hugged again.

"There's nothing to apologize for, son," Don said with a warm and gentle smile. "That was a lovely breakfast."

Down in the kitchen, Leon was in the middle of making up some more batches of pirate toast, with Vera 'making sure thangs ran smoothly'. When Leon wasn't looking, she grabbed the jar of glitter and dumped it down the sink drain.

"Aw, shucks, honey," Vera said, feigning disappointment. "It looks like we're all out of glitter."

"Awww! But pirate toast needs glitter!" Leon looked contemplative. "I guess I'll just have to borrow some of Tiffany's glitter glue in a little bit."

Vera left Leon at the counter and took the little ewe who had been mixing some more glasses of juice together aside, leaning down to whisper in her ear. "Alright, darlin', I'll give ya five bucks if ya can hide the glitter glue in yer room from Leon."

"Why, Mommy?" Tiffany whispered back.

"Uh... th-there's a glitter shortage and we need ta preserve as much as we can?"

"I'm on it!" Tiffany said, quickly running off.

"Where'd Tiffany go?" Leon asked, looking up at Vera with wide blue eyes.

"Er... she went ta go see if she can get ya that glitter glue ya mentioned. But she thinks it might be lost."

"Oh no!" Leon whined in disappointment. Vera was quick to wrap a loving arm around his shoulders.

"It's okay, sugar-pie! Pirate toast can still be great even iffin' we're outta glitter of any kind." She kissed the top of his headfur, making her little boy giggle.

"Okay, Mommy!" And with that, Leon dove right back into it, using some of the frosting he had separated and not added any food coloring to it to draw the skull and crossbones on the toast.

* * *

The sun had just dipped below the horizon, the twilight slowly giving way to the growing dark. Varun sat leaning up against a tree, looking at the first twinkling stars beginning to show, letting out a contented sigh. The large tiger's ears twitched at the sound of approaching footsteps. His tail swished as he smiled at his mate sidling up next to him. Varun slipped an arm around Zelda's waist as she leaned into his powerful frame.

"Yer just so sweet with Marigold!" Zelda said, her tail a happy blur. "She looked like she was havin' a lot of fun playin' catch!" She thought back to how nervous their foster pup had been when they'd first brought her home, always walking on eggshells around the two of them. It had broken her heart how often the girl would flinch whenever someone spoke to her.

"It did seem to help her come out of her shell a bit," Varun chuckled. "I'm actually thinking about teaching her how to play baseball. We've got a bat in addition to the gloves."

"That's a wonderful idea!" Zelda felt like she could howl. "I just love havin' a little girl ta dote on and do Mother-Daughter thangs with!"

Varun chuckled. He had found Zelda's adoration of Marigold adorable, especially since the girl didn't seem to have had any positive female role models, at least based on how much she went out of her way to try and please Zelda. He had found that the girl had seemed especially nervous around him at first, though Varun had taken the initiative to help break the ice by playing some games with her. She had seemed very confused about how the Z-Box One worked as well as video games as a whole, but starting with a simple game of catch, he had found the young girl had started to open up.

"I never took you for much of a girly-girl," Varun teased, kissing Zelda's nose. She rolled her eyes and waved a dismissive paw.

"Oh hush. I'm just as feminine as the next gal. It's just that li'l Marigold desperately needs some TLC and somethin' we could both bond over."

"Like dress shopping?" Varun chuckled, taking note of the light green sundress his mate was wearing, and how it was a similar shade of green as their uniform shirts. Zelda just rolled her eyes.

"We were out in town today and I saw her lookin' in the display windows. 'Course I took her inside so we could find somethin' she'd like... the fact that she and I got matchin' dresses, the exception bein' hers needed to be tailored a bit so that it didn't have a tail hole in the back, was just a happy coincidence." Zelda blushed a little, though her tail continued to wag. Varun let out a happy chuff, and held her tighter.

"Of course, my love," he said, looking around. "Where is Marigold, anyway?"

"Oh, she said she was feelin' a little worn from the day, what with goin' out with me, and then that cute little pie caper Leon went and solved," Zelda said with a slight giggle. "I still can't believe that Tarin tried to frame that cute li'l lizard of Leon's... or how well he figured it all out."

"Mama Doreen certainly seemed excited by his detective work."

"Don't let Vera hear ya say that," Zelda giggled, "she's so worried that Ma will try and push policin' on him that she's tryin' ta clamp down on anythang of the sort around her pups."

Varun looked off in the distance, stiffening suddenly. "Zelda, you said that Marigold was going to rest, correct?"

"Yeah, why darlin'?" Zelda asked, confused.

"Because I just saw her climbing out of her bedroom window with that little case in her arms, running off into the forest," Varun said simply.

"What?!" Zelda jerked around and, sure enough, she could just make out a figure running away from their house and deeper into the trees. Without a work, she grabbed her mate's paw, and started to drag him through the trees after them. "Somethin's gotta be wrong! And what if she hurts herself again like when we first found her?!"

"My love, please try and calm down, I'm sure that everything's fine," Varun said in an attempt to reassure his mate, but with a pit of worry forming in his own gut regardless. They stopped not too far from their house, near the edge of a small clearing with a stump near the center. Varun and Zelda were hiding behind a tree as Marigold was looking around, a worried expression on her face. She was still wearing the same green sundress from earlier, it taking on an ethereal glow in the fading twilight as the light of the full moon was beginning to shine. All around, fireflies were starting to take flight.

"We gotta be quiet, or else she'll hear us," Zelda said from where she was crouched.

"So whatcha think she's up to?" Tarin asked, poking his head up from a bush to Zelda's left.

"I'm not really sure yet, we just saw her runnin' off and... Tarin? What're ya doin' here?" Zelda asked, looking down at the black-furred fox tod who was smiling casually back up at her.

"I saw you both running off into the woods and decided ta see what was happening. I figured that it might be something fun."

Zelda rolled her eyes while Varun had to choke down a chuckle at the antics of his unofficial brother, as all the 'Hunter Boys' liked to think of themselves.

"Tarin, ya ain't s'posed ta be here, now git!" Zelda hissed.

"Who ain't s'posed ta be here?" Tyra asked. The arctic she-wolf scooped up her mate and set him on her shoulders.

"T-Tyra?!"

"What? I saw my cute little ball of fluff run off inta the woods, naturally I'd follow him," Tyra said as Tarin rested his head on hers.

"Sounds ta me like youse was thinkin' of maybe gettin' up ta somethin' naughty out here in da woods, away from where anybody could see or hear yas," Adamo said, stepping from behind a tree, the male hyena grinning with a toothpick in his mouth.

"Adamo?!" Zelda clapped a paw to her forehead. Removing it, she saw Yuki standing there, trying to look bored.

"We were makin' out when ya two started yappin' about Zelda bein' a girly-girl and then heard ya decide ta chase after Marigold," the black she-wolf growled as Adamo squeezed her side.

"Yeah, and we wanted ta make sure dat youse wasn't gunna go and invade that goil's proivacy," Adamo said, looking pointedly at Zelda, whol was wringing her paws.

"I thought that she might be tryin' ta run away or somethin'... I just wanted ta make sure she was safe! That's my puppy after all!" Zelda blushed, clearly flustered. Adamo pulled her into a hug to comfort her.

"She was probably drawn to this spot thanks to all the positive energies that emanate from it," Undine's voice could be heard up above. Looking up, everyone saw her sitting on a tree branch with Melvin laying in her lap.

"It is a pretty peaceful spot," the male honey badger said, looking up at the stars through the canopy. He was holding a bowl of popcorn in his claws.

"What, did a memo go out or somethin'?!" Zelda asked, exasperated.

"Now now, sweetie," Adrian said, inexplicably standing next to a very surprised Adamo and Yuki, with an embarrassed-looking Doreen standing next to her. "As it just so happens, this here spot is a favorite fer yer Ma and me fer our little picnics."

"Well, they start out as picnics," Doreen said, wrapping her arms around Adrian's waist, making the older gray wolf wag his tail and chuckle.

"Ma! We didn't need ta hear 'bout that!" Vera said from right next to Zelda, making the auburn she-wolf whip around. She saw Don perched on his mate's shoulders.

"Okay, is everyone we know here in the woods tonight?!" Zelda demanded. Right then, as if on cue, Gareth tumbled to the ground nearby, Winnie in his arms, Xena and Melanie tangled up in the gangly giraffe's legs.

"Oi! You two! What's the big idea about scamperin' in between me legs?!"

"It wasn't our fault that you didn't look where you were walking," Xena pointed out, adjusting her glasses. Standing up and brushing herself off, she reached down and scooped Melanie up into her arms, the two kissing. "Are you alright, Butterball?"

"I'm just fine, Fluffytail," Melanie said, putting her arms around her mate's neck, all the while Winnie was helping her own mate to his shakey hooves.

"No need to fret over me, love," Gareth said, leaning his head and neck down to smile at the she-wolf he was lucky to have found.

"Hey, that just seemed like a nasty fall, that's all," Winnie said, her tail swishing.

"Can y'all just keep it down! I'm amazed that Marigold hasn't heard all y'all!" Zelda quietly snapped. Everyone grew silent at that, and looked out into the clearing. Marigold was kneeling next to the stump, where she had set her case down on it and opened it. From inside, she pulled out a photograph.

"Hey, Ryan," they could hear the girl's soft voice float over on the gentle breeze. "I just... I remembered that today is... was... your birthday... and I just wanted to let you know that I'm keeping my promise." Her voice hitched a little, but she composed herself. "I'm still moving forward, b-big brother... I m-miss you so much." She wiped a tear from her cheek, before she stood up and pulled out a well-cared for violin from inside the case. She tested the strings to make sure they were in tune before taking a stance.

"Happy birthday, Ryan," she said, raising the bow to the strings. Then, she began to play. As the tune began to ring out gently in the clearing, sounding like a bouncy and fun folk tune, Marigold began to sway and twirl, spinning on her feet. As the music picked up the pace, but the tone became something more melancholic, Zelda realized that not only was Marigold skilled at playing her fiddle, but she also had some training in ballet. With each new song, the girl would dance and pirouette, leap and spin-turn, and perform other moves that Zelda didn't know the names of. She and the rest of the family watched, entranced and silent, at this little concert that the newest addition to their family was putting on, for her brother who, most of them guessed based on what they had overheard, was no longer alive. The full weight of what this moment must represent to her foster daughter suddenly hit Zelda, just as Marigold seemed to be slowing down in both the dancing and her playing.

"S-sweet sawgrass," Zelda said as Marigold seemed to be finishing on a long, mournful note. "W-we all can't let her know we saw this!"

"Truly a great invasion of her privacy," Xena mused, only to suddenly be pushed by Zelda.

"Enough musin', we gotta move, now," she barked as quietly as she could. Everyone started to head back the way they had all come, when there was a sudden loud CLICK. Turning, they all saw that Marigold had returned everything to her case and snapped the latch shut. She got up and proceeded to walk back to the house... which was in the same direction everyone in the family sans Vera and Don's pups were in at that moment. Scrambling, the Hunters and their mates ran through the trees and underbrush, avoiding the scant trail like the plague. Everyone darted around to the other side of Zelda and Varun's house. Varun stealthily peeked out from around the corner, watching as Marigold was looking all around, before trying to stealthily climb back in through her bedroom window. A few very loud thumps later, and she was back inside, none the wiser. Varun released the breath he had no idea he had been holding, all the while Zelda was making everyone swear that they wouldn't say a thing to Marigold about this.

"B-but," Undine whined, holding up her camera, "it was so in line with the natural energies of the clearing! Folks would be so energized and helped by seeing the video I took of it!

And here it is! The peek into the genderswapped AU of Found! I might do another in the future, but holy crap did this one take a bit of time! I hope everyone is having a great summer!

[anghraine]

I wonder if you can guide me on whether I should pursue Linguistics or Literature for my MA since you already are working on your PhD in Literary Studies? It's my dream to major in Literary Criticism and I believe I can always get another MA in Linguistics, but for now I don't want to waste my time and power on something that might not be so useful in the future. How has your experience been with Literary Studies? Would you advice a fellow academic to pursue it?

Hmm, I would always suggest getting advice from an actual advisor or committee chair if you have one. However, here is what advice I can give, with the caveat that I am a random stranger on the Internet who doesn't know you.

First: broadly speaking, if you're really sure about what your ultimate goal is, you're probably best served by doing the things directly related to that goal if it doesn't make much of a difference to you otherwise. I suspect that an MA in English literature will do more to help you get into a PhD program in English literature than a degree in linguistics.

That said, the fields are related enough that if there would be no difference with regard to GPA, what recommendations you can get, and (most importantly) your writing sample, it may not matter that much in the long run, unless you envision your PhD literary work as particularly involved in linguistics (sometimes this is the case).

But the work you do in an MA in literature is probably going to be more geared towards preparing you for further work in literature than one in linguistics. If one subject is generally easier for you to get high grades in or if you tend to have better relationships with instructors in one of the fields, that may be the best for PhD acceptance purposes.

Another concern that people sometimes don't want to talk about, or alternately are very annoying about: the current state of the job market in literary studies is dire in a lot of places (certainly in the USA, where I live). It was bad before COVID and is worse now. Exactly how dire the situation is depends on your specialization, but it's pretty bad all around.

I honestly don't know what the job market for linguists looks like, especially since there are a lot of different professions within the field (a high school friend of mine with a linguistics degree ended up in speech pathology and says it's much easier to find work in that field). I did use linguistics for technical writing credit, but that was years ago and I just don't know what opportunities look like now, pragmatically speaking. Possibly the outlook is better than in literary studies, and if so, a graduate linguistics degree might be more helpful if you don't get into a literature PhD program or do get the degree but don't get hired in academia afterwards.

OTOH, there are a lot of things you can do with an MA or PhD in English outside of academia (and those things are usually more profitable because of the defunding of the arts etc etc). Some jobs simply want the degree and don't care much what it's in, for instance.

Some do care, but are actually looking for people with English degrees. A friend of mine once got a very good job in Seattle because he had an English degree in addition to his computer science degree and they wanted someone with that kind of background to work on an online dictionary.

A friend from my grad school cohort used his literature MA to get a job in technical writing, so there's that. A graduate degree in English can help if you want to go into editing or publishing (maybe even law), though there are major issues in publishing as well. If you're interested in creative writing as well as literature, getting into a terminal creative writing degree program such as an MFA or PhD is sometimes helped by having a related MA already.

As for my experience in getting a PhD in literature, it has been very mixed. Sometimes it's fantastic, because you're in an environment that can be very intellectually nourishing, for lack of a better phrase. How actually supportive it is varies a lot (I have been lucky in that respect, but I know people whose programs had a lot of ambitious, cutthroat people and for whom it was miserable). It can be very nice and very helpful to be around people who care about the same general thing as you and who appreciate its value even if it's not their specific area of study. It's super cool to have full on tenured professors be like "oh, that's a bit outside my area, but it's an interesting question and Elizabeth would probably know more" or just straight-up have me take over teaching a class while they dealt with a crisis outside the classroom.

People outside academia (and some parts of fandom) have tended to find me deeply boring, and because I'm autistic, it's always a struggle not to just go on flat monologues about my fixations. I constantly had to remind myself that nobody around me was actually interested or wanted to hear about this kind of thing. But during both my MA and PhD, it was just different. Since all my local friends were in the program, I didn't have to worry nearly as much that people wouldn't know what I was talking about or would find it intrinsically dull, and we'd just sit around a table chattering about this stuff.

That said, this being a constant, inescapable aspect of your life with a lot of pressure and obligations and expectations and so forth—and just the sheer amount of reading you have to do—can start to suck the joy out of it, and this can be a major problem if it's one of your major sources of joy in the first place. I mean, there isn't much reason to do it if it isn't. But I have hardly read any fiction outside of my academic interests for years because the idea of reading any more just feels exhausting.

I don't read fanfic at this point, not because I think there is any intrinsic qualitative distinction between original and fanfic, but because my mind is so wrung out that I usually don't read stories of any kind unless it's part of research. Some of my friends who got degrees in literature experienced the same thing and gradually found joy in literature again once they were free of grad school bullshit, so this isn't a permanent rupture necessarily, just something to consider.

Then there's teaching, too, and the messy composition-literature dynamic, and frankly, as a whole, it's been really bad for my mental health, especially my mood swings. But a lot of that has to do with the culture around grad school and academia in general, not literature specifically (I think it would be worse if it were any other field, actually, except maybe creative writing). So it's worth bearing that possibility in mind, but not a certainty, either.

I know this is a lot! Basically, it depends on a whole ton of factors, and I can't give you an exact answer. But these are the kinds of things I would consider.

[culmaer-sideblog]

so searching for a new job is about as much fun as you can imagine.

the main issue I'm running into is that most positions are offering substantially less than I currently earn, which I feel is already too low for a decent life in this city so less is unacceptable. and other positions I find intriguing require at least a masters degree. and fair enough, they're looking for specialists, and at least on paper, I am not

I never did a masters because my degree in International Relations was depressing and disillusioning and I didn't want to continue in that field. instead I started over and did a second bachelors in French, which was fun. And so the thing is, if I go back to uni now (besides the enormous expense that would be) I'm not going to do an MA in IR, that would be insane. and I feel like French was fun but....not what I see myself doing for the rest of my life. So I will have to pivot again !!! although, I could *in theory* start again at honours level (i.e. 1 year before entry to masters) rather than starting a whole new BA from scratch. and then proceed into a masters in curating and archival studies from there. in theory.

I was kind of panicking when I started writing this post. but the above now seems like a fairly reasonable plan. the only thing is the cost of studying (South Africa is like the US in this sense. education is expensive) and the fact that while studying I could only work part-time at best,, and I've become so accustomed to having an income so that might not be fun

but like, what are my other options realistically ? do I just keep looking for work and hope something decent turns up ? I mean, i don't technically need to enjoy my work, I just need to be good at it and use the income to fund hobbies and joy in my private life. so I could just take any position. or should I actually start over from scratch, academically, to ensure I really do have a solid theoretical basis ? but then I could pick any field, not just one I can easily pivot to. although that will be a financial risk, so maybe not that. and part of me just wants to make art, like, should I keep taking short-courses and workshops, rather than investing in another formal degree ? practical experience is valuable too right ?

[wytchwyse]

Witchery & Mental Illness

Recently On two separate occasions, i have been approached online by fellow practitioners who wanted to know my experience being a practicing Witch and modern cunning person while being treated for and living with mental illness.

firstly It is not easy, i often go through periods of time where i cant bring myself to practice. it took me three years to get back to my spirits and my craft. All through covid season I found myself unable to connect ( without saying too much, my Covid living situation was less than ideal, and completely retraumatizing) I felt powerless and therefore i was.

I was thankful for my amazing therapist and our weekly sessions via Skype, it was therapy and a strong support system that got me through the lockdown. But i was lost without my magic and the spirits that i have come to get to know.

it wasn't until this year that I started to connect again. stepping back into my personal power as a person, and as a Witch. My Witchcraft demands that I rise when i fall, My spirits demand that I always try again. you can call it ataraxia, apotheosis, or self-individuation but that seems to be what i strive for. never letting myself stagnate, stagnation like my avoidant coping isn't living, it's more like a living death.

I for one would like to live as much as i can, experience as much as i can, learn as much as i am able, and accomplish things i have always wanted to accomplish. my Sever Dissociative disorder has hindered much of my life and now at 31 years old im finishing my associate's degree, and looking forward to my BA program and in the future grad school ( for a MA in clinical psychology).

Witches don't bow, we don't surrender, and our Will and Desire is made manifest by our work and arte. no one is a fault for enduring trauma and mental illness we are all innocent, however, all people are responsible for the healing of that trauma, and for Witches, mystics, cunning folk, etc that work is a must, it connects us to our will. As people and as Witches We must always become.

And yes, its easier said than done. but nothing worth doing is easy , magic itself is not an easy task. But for us to have honest spiritual experiences those of us who experience mental illness must work toward healing, it is important. now read what i said, we must work towards healing, not be healed. in my opinion, the journey seems far more important than the destination. ever moving to self-betterment as much as one is able.

That is how i practice magic and live with mental illness, with empathetic and compassionate radical self-honesty. therapy, magic, and spirit work. This is not a perfect process healing is not linear,  "healing isn't a task, it's a practice"

-Scott

[julieverne]

Five times Susie was kissed by someone at BPD

1. It had been an accident. Susie was pretty sure it had been. It had to have been. She was just standing there with her shoulder, hip and elbow pressed against Doctor Isles, and when Doctor Isles went to move they were pressed together (not uncomfortably) and their mouths kind of... met.

It certainly hadn't been romantic, and Doctor Isles had immediately focused on the body, until Susie staggered off to a chair on unsteady legs, at which point she came over to measure Susie's temperature by touching her forehead.

"You are very flushed, but not warm. Perhaps you should take some time off. Or you can go lie down in my office until you feel better." Susie closed her eyes; Maura's cool hand on her burning skin was heavenly. She shook her head and got back to her feet. She had fortitude. She could survive this.

But she always was fond of April 17 every year afterwards.

2. Riley was bullied. Aggressively bullied when she arrived at BPD, and Susie found her in the little room off the lab hallway where they kept beakers. She'd been crying.

She looked up and saw Susie, but she didn't bother to wipe her face or look away. Susie was frozen in the doorway, so she came in and closed the door.

"I've been offered a transfer. It's a good offer. I'm just relieved." Riley looked up and smiled at Susie. "You've always been nice to me. Thank you for that."

"You're nice," Susie said as though she was stating a fact. "And I'm sorry you're leaving."

Riley got to her feet with a shaky sigh and looked at Susie. They were nearly the same height, so it was easy for Riley's mouth to brush against Susie's as she pulled her into a hug.

Riley pulled away and walked to the door. She opened it and looked back at Susie.

"I'll miss you," she said.

3. Jane had objected to Susie holding her down to put the moon boot on. Maura was busy with Jane's feet; Susie could see Jane kicking. She was more worried about Jane's hands swinging; she leaned over the table and rested her weight on Jane's torso, trying to pin her down. Jane grabbed and lifted Susie easily, as though she weighed nothing, and Susie was pulled forward her mouth meeting Jane's in one, long awkward moment.

"Much better," Maura said in satisfaction when Jane froze entirely. Susie was easily able to pull away, and the boot was on.

Jane was bright red.

"Whatever you did certainly worked," Maura commented absently, and Susie ran into the lab to hide her blush.

4. When Maura was arrested, Susie was bummed out. She couldn't help on the actual case, on the actual autopsy. She went up to the cafe, and Angela made her some chips.

"I know she didn't do it," Susie said with conviction. "But if she did," she conceded, "she had a damn good reason."

"I know, honey," Angela said, coming around the counter to put an arm around Susie's shoulders. Susie looked up as Angela was about to kiss her temple and their mouths met. Susie was getting used to this, and at least she didn't have a huge crush on Angela; just a little one.

"Aw Ma, Maura's in jail and you're as bad as Pop," Jane complained. She stole Susie's order of fries and stormed off back to the squad room. Angela pulled back with a little shrug and started a fresh order of fries for Susie.

5. "You're the only on here with a degree in Art," Nina flattered Susie, who blushed. Was there any woman in the precinct she didn't have a low-key crush on? She shook her head, focused on the task at hand. It was easy enough to find the artist, but she made a show of thinking it over, of confidently stating each data point she had. Nina was suitably impressed, an offered Susie a high five. Susie took it, but a moment later Nina's lips were pressing against hers. Nina drew away slowly, looking a little worried and insecure.

"Thank you," Nina said softly. "I'd never have found that on my own."

Susie nodded, noticing how Nina's eyes were still drawn to her mouth.

"And you look really pretty today," Nina added, her voice ever softer. Susie looked down at her lab coat and chuckled.

"What, this old thing?" she asked, tilting her eyebrows. Nina smiled, and Susie leaned in to kiss her, soft and slow, the way she'd wanted to since she'd met her.

"You'd even make a body bag look good," Nina chuckled.

[sharkneto]

Working at a museum sounds so interesting to me, how would I get into that? (I am but a mere teenager and don’t know *anything* about jobs or education but having to plan my future is coming nearer everyday)

If you've got any museums around you - check for local historical societies, too! - you can see if they're looking for volunteers or have internship programs. Lots of large museums offer summer internships/camps, too, that you can check out. The idea is to try and spend time in museums and collection spaces to see if it's a good fit for you. There's lots of spots in museums - collection work, administration, public facing, exhibits, etc - and so many types of museums (natural history, art, anthropology, history, cultural...). Small museums mean you're going to wear many hats between the different position to cover the museum's needs, large museums means you're going to be more specialized in the work you do.

For me, I work in natural history, so I have a BS in Biology and an MA in Museum Studies (mixed reviews on if the museum studies degree is particularly useful in my field, but a Master's degree *is* helpful, and I liked my program well enough). Study the field you're interested in undergrad, maybe pick up some side classes on education or business or something that could be useful in your museum work of choice, and try and volunteer/intern at museums in the meantime. Along with finding what you like doing, you want to pick up the relevant skills and show future employers that you know this is the work you want to be doing.

And, if I can go on a tangent real quick, it's always good to be proactive and start trying out different fields of interest to see if that's where you want to end up, but if you don't know when you're in high school, you're going to be alright. I didn't know I was going to do museums until my final semester of undergrad. My original plan was to be a doctor, but had been interning at a museum on campus for the past few semesters because it was fun and I liked the anatomy work. Cue me realizing in the last weeks of my final semester that, huh, I'm really spending every minute of time I can in the collection, aren't I? And I changed my future trajectory (good thing I was already planning on a gap year). Lots of people don't find the career they want until later in life. Try lots of stuff when you're in high school and college, see what clicks, and work towards it - but don't be afraid to change your mind later. Life is long, there's lots of time to figure things out. Use the opportunities you have to try things out and get where you want, but you don't have to be tied to past choices you made.