#other people have allergies and did not ask for or consent to dealing with your dogs fur and dandruff

[cainite-bite]

Ya know I think we're at a point where we really do just allow dogs into way too many places (barring actual real service ones ofc)

like when i go to the grocery store i do not want to see your dog. i do not want to see your dog in a restaurant. i do not want to see your dog in a theater. i do not want to deal with your dog at the clinic. Or most places for that matter

I really just do not want to deal with all these loud, barking, untrained dogs that are going to be getting into everything, barking at everything, jumping at everyone cause its too excited (im real tired of being damn near knocked over and i've dealt with concussions a little too many times from this shit), or the risk of being bitten or growled at because your dog is too anxious/scared to be in the place you are subjecting it to

fucking take it to a dog park or some shit idk but quit subjecting everyone to your unwanted dog and quit subjecting it to weird fucking situations

[arctic-hands]

I've been asked by multiple people for my medical BuJo setup, so here are the important parts @justcaytlin you were one of them I believe?

This is the first page after the Index, which since my Artist's Loft journal comes with two bookmark ribbons I keep one here for easy access

[Image Description: a page from a dot grid journal. On the top it says Emergency Info, and in the upper right corner is a little heart that says "organ donor". Beneath that is a section that says "Name:", "DOB:", and "Address:", the pertinent info to that has been redacted. Then beneath that to the left is a box for Emergency Contacts, with a primary and secondary name and their phone numbers, also all redacted. Beneath that is a box labeled "Allergies/Do Not Give", listing medications and allergies with what happens if I take them in parentheses. Beneath that is a box labeled Dietary Restrictions, listing mine. Then to the right of those is a larger box labeled "Medical Conditions", followed by a list of mine. Beneath that is a tiny rectangle that says "Blood Type:" followed by mine which has been redacted so the Sycorax don't get me. Beneath that is a box with the name of my insurance, and then finally is a box for my vaccinations (on that note get your covid bivalent booster and flu shot). In the lower left corner in big letters it says "I do not consent to a DNR" because that's the world we deal with now. End I.D.]

It should be noted that I just now after taking this photo decided to write at the very bottom "Medications/Implants/Surgeries on next page" with an arrow, which leads me to the next page

[Image Description: the next page. On the top it says "Medications", with a table, listing the medications, dosage, what it's for, and when I take it. Beneath that is a (currently blank) table for "Implants/Devices", with a list section for a device and then what it's for. Beneath that is a table listing "Surgeries/Procedures", listing the surgery, when it happened, and where it was done. There's room for future surgeries. End I.D.]

[Image Description: a page entitled "Doctors/Pharmacy", with separate boxes labeled with the types of doctors I see (Primary care, neurologist, gastroenterologist, et cetera). All of the contact info has been redacted, but each box includes the name of the doctor, the facility they work at, the address, and phone number. At the bottom is a similar box for my pharmacy info. The info continues onto the next page, but you get the gist. End I.D.]

[Image Description: a page entitled "Recent Hospitalizations", with a page-long table (with six rows filled out so far), with columns for the "Date", "Hospital", "For?", and "Admitted?". In the one visit that answers yes, it also says how long I was admitted for. End I.D.]

[Image Description: this page is labeled Hospital Checklist, and it's just a reminder of what I personally like to bring when I'm headed to the ER and might be admitted. My list includes this planner, my phone, phone charger and brick, medications (obvs the hospital will give you your meds if you're admitted, but sometimes I'm in the lobby long enough that it's medication time and I need them on hand), laptop, laptop charger, underwear, masks, diary, pens, wallet and cards, sketchbook and pencil/pens, hand sanitizer, earbuds, MP3 player. End I.D.]

Then this is how I plan my schedule. I did the entire year from December Twenty Twenty-two to December Twenty Twenty-three, so I don't have to keep making calendars at the beginning of each month.

[Image Description: a calendar of December Twenty Twenty-two, with a space off to the side divided between Tasks up top and Notes down below. The calendar has appointments (signified by a triangle) here and there, and other important dates.

Now after the calendar is when I start doing things month-by-month, like symptom tracking:

[Image Description: a page entitled "December Twenty Twenty-two Symptoms/Concerns, Period Tracker". The symptoms have all been redacted, but their are page-long columns for each of my specialists. To the right is a section that says "Period Started:" followed by "Period Ended:". There ends up being a blank section beneath that, but I could always just use that if I fill up one of the columns. End I.D.]

I also added pockets to the covers in case I need to add a loose paper

[Image Description: the insides of the front and back covers. Each has a triangular pocket made of manila folder pasted on. The front pocket is labeled "Labs/Test orders, and the back pocket is labeled "Misc. Notes/Discharge Orders". End I.D.]

I also made a page ahead of time for today's Neurosurgery consult, with the new doctor's name, address, and time I needed to be there, with half the paste dedicated to questions and concerns I had, followed by the rest of the page being appointment notes.

Other that that my BuJo is dedicated to other things, like my cats' and their illnesses, their vet info and medications and a log for when they need to see the vet, a spread dedicated to the GoFundMe for their cancer treatments and a list of charities I'm trying to contact, and other less important things I need to keep track of.

Anyway hope this helps/inspires my fellows who need to keep track of this stuff!

[startwithbrooklyn]

THE GREAT ND REWATCH OF 2021 / SEPTEMBER 28-29, 2019 // the bonny scot

posting this a day later than normal because this is one of the rare episodes that shows a passage of time from one day to the next yayy love that for them

-wonder what filming these beginning sexy scenes is like for them in real life

-sooooo can lucy see nancys sexy dream? is she judging? does this mean she likes nancy with owen or nick more? or is she trying to tell nancy that her sex dreams are irrelevant to the mystery at hand and she needs to focus?

-seeing people in the ✨prison chair✨: gomber, carson, karen (voting for josh s3 just saying)

-completely ignores carson's question about herself typical nance

-"or maybe i did stumble across a knife" its like hes trying to make the case against him look plausible while attempting to maintain innocence. this is a slippery slope for carson to try and encourage her to keep her pacified + hide the truth while also trying to keep her from getting involved bc hudsons

-"genetics gets you in the door" aaaaand then she walks in to everetts office to meet him and crashes their family dinner

-ok who tf is dawn and why is she in charge here

-this guidance counselor of nicks is my favorite person

-"i admire your allergy to pleasantries" bess and nancy both have reveals to big families but nancy does not have the graceful, accepting reveal to her rich family like bess does at this lunch. nancys reveal is messy, cold, bloodstained and sticky-fingered, not nice in any way whatsoever. and this little chat with everett (bit of a parallel to lucy's) just highlights how nancy is always bad at bargaining with her grandparents*- always trying to fight on their level but giving up her equal hand bc she doesnt know how to hide it when they bring up something she doesnt know. like confronting celia at the masque: she was so confident with her theory and what she knew, but then we got a "what does that mean?" like. the instant you say that, you lose. and she walked right into the "yes i do have someone, hes in jail" 🤦🏼‍♀️ even in the car with ryan at the end of s1, he literally just fucking leaves her there. like 🤷🏼‍♀️ what did u think was gonna happen sis?? for all she can predict how past things lead to present circumstances shes fucking awful at seeing the direct future *(grandparents except for patrice bc her dementia makes her inaccessable)

-lmaooooo this awko ass portrait...i get the empty space is for nance but who on earth thought this was a good pic??

-LISBETH 🥺💙

-"will u help the claw for me?" george struggles financially to keep her livelihood while nancy is somehow shown as being taken care of even when her parent is incarcerated; both nancy and george live in single parent homes now with mention of both medical debt and george being breadwinner yet nancy has no struggles while george does. (i wonder if ryan had been able to help george here how the story would have changed)

-"when it comes to following people around without their knowledge or consent i am somewhat of a repeat offender" 😂😂😂

-"he wasnt endgame after all" BESS lmaoooo

-"...okay." lmaoooo i fuckin love owen

-i was hoping the girls' faces would be more shocked like with a glance to owen but they just....werent

-"we're the good guys" <---- this statement is soooo interesting in terms of how they structure the show and how the characters see themselves (its an interesting contrast with the more definitive good vs evil with things that are both clearly good and clearly evil but theres also a lot of moral grey area here, the show is kinda swamped in it. are nancy and crew the good guys? are they the bad guys in someone else's story? concerns.)

-"i'd call it more than just stuff" like why did u concede that??? and then the shit about oof that didnt sound like a compliment lmaoooooo why does she suck at arguing?? she and owen wouldnt work long term bc theyre so similar (as mentioned later on)

-i LOVE george slowly falling in love with nick here- hence how upset she gets when nick bails on her for nancy later (which is totally justified!!!)

-i am LIVING for the little nod this driver guy gives bess when she turns back around all nervous 😂

-"i do like buying things" i would so say that too tbh

-"you'd have plenty to talk about" LMFAOOOOOOO SHE KNOWS "marvins dont marry drivers" so diana is totally fine with the gay its just the poor she has a problem with 😂💙fuckin love that

-love how nancy just casually ruins everything for nick/george lmaooo

-"i have seen you at your best, nancy, and there is nothing like it." 🥴😳 i love this still-in-love look nancy gives him thats so strong he had to change the subject

-so is haunting time 11 pm? from that clock of bashiir's?

-how do NO neighbors notice this fucking water and shit

-these are TOTALLY AWFUL fake screams from the bonny scot crew 😭

-"i know well enough not to get involved when he's in play" both carson and ryan avoid engaging with everett even though nancy is willing to do so armed with less info and more balls/ but "could i trust him" and ryan says yes lmaooooo NO honey + that makes ryan 0/2 for helping the girls when they ask this ep

-"find a project of your own" and he does, with his youth center 🙏🏻💙 what s2 foreshadowing!

-"god i wish i still drank" 😂😂😂

-"she is darling." 💙👌🏻

-okay wtf is mirror bay??

-i really wonder about the extent of celia x sebastians relationship here. did she truly care about him or was it just secret and exciting sex? also would love more hints of diana vs celia moments like these. celia doesnt even look upset. i mean shes had time to deal but like wtf. and who exactly is sebastian to diana? not her husband? like damn what if he was. somehow i doubt she'd talk about him diddling celia if diana was disrespected also

-i wonder if celia being so invested in dna testing nancy was bc everrett dna tested ryan to make sure he was his bc of sebastian / other men (which would be totally valid on his part!! but wouldnt it be funny as fuck if ryan wasnt his 😂)

-what a neat hiding place in this frame lmaooo who put that in for them tho? like how do u go about ordering that

-"you certainly are your fathers daughter" this quote is doubly ironic and foreshadowy bc theyre referencing carson here as being a useful hudson attaché but nancy is playing everett just like ryan played celia about putting his house up (but TRIPLY ironic bc carson pulls off the long con of hiding nancy from the hudsons right under their noses this whole time!) the one time nancy is successful against them

-that bess/lisbeth look while lisbeth does something badass (+diana reassessing now that lisbeth has been revealed to be useful)

-"almost as fun as a real fight" why do i believe him? lmaoooo a bit weird that he would enjoy a fight w a partner, but i also think this is an acknowledgement of nancy being an "opponent" who exists at his level. but i also love the "let me take you out" as a direct mirror of her relationship with nick, where she avoids the public acknowledgment/"going out" but prefers the more subtle/hidden arrangements of staying in. but as shown with later eps, owen is way more capable of meeting nancy where shes at, which is so important to her + the only way of getting close to nancy. (the only foil is ace who somehow is able to do both)

-"not always about a guy" <---- this could have been such a powerful statement if the show had thought having nancy end up alone/choose herself instead of pitting her between love interests (nick, owen, gil, even potentially ace, in only 2 seasons) was a more worthy stance to take ; as an aro/ace person i cant tell you how much i would kill to see just one female protag choose herself over a man. and its more realistic to end up alone than have a happy ending anyway, for all that these shows try to be as "real" and gritty grimdark as possible

-"is that what you want?" this is an interesting question to his mother- like maybe he senses her unhappiness? combined with his issues with his father- still trying to look out for his mom? either way it's sweet. (it could also potentially work as foreshadowing of something happening to her, but i think that was played with but then diverted when it was revealed who really killed her) "i think its time i steer this ship" still kind of patriarchal tho. i get that its him coming into his own as a dad technically but still. i also like how he calls her "mother" and not mom

-love that old white people thumbs up at george asking about his clams 👍🏻

-okay fuck dawn tho lmfaoooo

-"stressful dinner huh?" 😂 i fucking love lisbeth so much why didnt they bring her back (wouldnt it be Fucking Hilarious if they brought lisbeth back to bounce bess on her expired visa since the marvins kicked her out and didnt fix it lmaoooooo)

-BESS IS A TOP lmaooooooo i fuckin knew it

-nick says "you can pay me back" wonder if thats gonna come back in s3 considering their "marital problems" (also, those bonds are sosus lmfaoooo if any single person cashing those was looked at sideways they'd confess in 2 seconds that some random guy is handing out bearer bonds they dont even make anymore with absolutely zero proof as to how he got them)

-"you wanna finish what you started?" 👀 (dont mind if i do)

-"i need my dad back" parallels s2 when she asks him to come home

-parent politics: "you are taking your life in your hands / no, i'm putting it in yours" vs "i know well enough not to get involved when hes in play" both carson and ryan try to dissuade nancy from pursuing her pulling this con on everett but go about it different ways: carson is wildly concerned with nancys physical wellbeing but ryan appears to be leaning more towards weighing the odds for her/ like a "you cant win so cut your losses/dont try" scenario which interestingly might have more weight with nancy; its easy for her to brush aside carson's worrying like second nature but nancy has been established to be a determined winner, and ryan speaks to her here like shes a beginners luck prodigy at a blackjack table by encouraging her to keep her record clean by not dealing in this next round. of course she herself admits shes incapable of not dealing in ie "you know me better than that" but i have lots more thoughts on how effective ryans approaches to nancy can be sometimes (saving for the reveal ep 🙏🏻)

-wonder what all carson knows about the hudsons? + that look on his face when he hangs up... wonder if he was just lying to her about knowing anything or just ashamed at having to admit bad things hes done for them

-love nick & bashiir waiting together 🙏🏻💙+ nicks very strong and pointed "good night" as a means of ending his convo w nancy on his terms (gotta reinforce those boundaries man!)

and lastly

-celia + that gossip girl moment when she just throws the whole phone away 😂(wonder if she was just talking to "gus" or whoever that guy was. keep forgetting the bobbseys' dad is in prison too, wonder if he'll feature in s3)

[mfdnvd]

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[teacupwritings]

Yo okie, what about some headcannons with Bakugou, Todo, and Shinsou realizing that they have a crush and just being totally whipped for her 💕💕

Awe my first actual request! as soon as I saw this i got instant inspiration so I hope you enjoy! Also feel free to drop a request in my inbox makes me happy :)

Characters: bakugou, todoroki, and Shinsou

Request: open duh

BAKUGOU KATSUKI

- he is honestly so confused

- of all the people he could have a crush on it had to be you

- he doesn’t even know how this shit even works

- like…is he even allowed to have emotions?

- he is fueled by nothing but pure rage

- so I guess everyone is as shocked as he is when they see him constantly smiling in your direction

- how in the world could he find someone so damn cute

- he is so soft when it comes to you

- …well I mean…as soft as Bakugou can get

- you are also one of the only people that can make him laugh

- and it is one of the most rare sounds that roam the halls of UA

- maybe that’s why he likes you so much

- the two of you will still argue constantly

- but once in a while he would let you think you won

- you guys would also have some of the weirdest conversations and he would just be so confused

- “Bro, do you think canabalism could like…I don’t know end world hunger?”

- “WHAT THE FU-“

- “dude! Just think about it for a sec! All of our problems would be solv-“

- “if I hear another damn word come out of that pretty little mouth of yours your dead.”

- “you think my mouth is pretty.” :)

- “SHUT THE FUCK UP”

- “sorry…”

- great now you made him feel bad

- every time he thinks he may have hurt your feeling he would just shower you in gifts he doesn’t have the money for

- and we all know damn well he isn’t going to apologize

- he is too stubborn for that shit

- “you really didn’t need to get me this-“

- “just shut up and take it!”

- “I mean if you say so!”

- the gifts would always consist of small charms for some bracelet he got you a while back

-and occasionally he would give you those funko pop things you are always collecting

- every once in a while he will slip up and compliment you

- and then when people call him out he denies it 100 percent

- he also enjoys spending time with you watching all of your favorite shitty shows and movies

- as much as he hates to admit it he is alright with doing anything as long as it’s with you

SHOTO TODOROKI

- awe isn’t he the cutest

- Shoto exe has stopped working

- He lowkey admires you 

- like from a distance of course

- because most of the time he would keep to himself

- but in all honestly, he really did not mind hanging out with you

- you were one of the only students in UA that he actually felt comfortable enough to take to the Todoroki household

- its absolute chaos but we don’t talk about it

- now the two of you just hang out at his do- the two of you would have study dates 24/7 

- he would even go as far as making tea for you

- that’s like the only thing he could make on his own

- he would also serve it to you in his special all might mug and its just precious

- he is a fanboy at heart

- he isn’t the best cook but you’ll just heat up ramen in the microwave if you get hungry

- privileged 

- when the two of you say “study date” it is basically an excuse to hang out. 

- the two of you would do some book club type shit 

- and sometimes you would watch shitty cliche romance movies

- you don’t really like them 

- but Shoto gets a kick out of them or sum

- Don’t even get me started on gifts 

- he would take you to the mall all the time 

- shopping sprees with Endeavor’s credit card

- you don’t really ask for anything you kind of just make small comments here and there

- “Shoto, did you see that?! Its so cute!” 

- “Yeah…It’s pretty cute.”

- As soon as you leave to use the bathroom or get some drinks from the food court, he would literally run and buy you whatever you were looking at

- he would surprise you with it as soon as you question whats in the bag

- after that you ambush him with hugs and thanks

- now he is just…super flustered 

- “It really isn’t a big deal.”

- sometimes you forget he is rich

- he will get you anything as long as it makes you happy :)

HITOSHI SHINSOU

- the two of you never really acknowledged each other until he figured out the two of you both wanted to join the hero course 

- after that you would train with each other all the time

- sometimes when you guys are training with each other he will use his brainwashing quirk on you (of course with his consent)  

- you always end up losing because you literally cannot keep your mouth shut

- he will make you do the stupidest shit  

- just to get a quick laugh out of it

- you managed to get out of his trance once but that was only because you had allergies and sneezed 

- he was kinda shocked but he let it slide as a mistake

- he never actually realized he had feelings for you until he noticed how much he actually missed you when you were out for about a week

- it was all the little things too

- like all of your useless conversations together and the way you would laugh at your own jokes

- now he doesn’t want to leave your side 

- sometimes he would walk down the halls quietly and when he sees you he will greet you with a hug

- every once in a while you would have sleep overs and you would just listen to each other rant till 3 in the morning

- he just loves to hear whats on your mind 

- on days like these you would wake up with bags under your eyes so the two of you spend the morning putting concealer under each others eyes so you don’t make it to school looking homeless

- During class he would pass you notes 

- whatever he writes is always a surprise it could either be the sweetest poem or one of the most cursed things you you have read in your entire life

- He is also extremely broke so don’t be expecting too many gifts

- he still makes you cute little scarves and hats here and there

- because he enjoys knitting shut up

[chris-evans-indian-fanfic]

Across Seven Seas

Chapter 3

Description: This fanfiction series is set in the year 2022, after the horrid COVID-19 has finally come to an end. In this fanfiction, Chris Evans holidays with his family in India and meets Meera Shankar. The story explores their rollercoaster journey and raises a question, whether two people, from two contrasting backgrounds and cultures, can build their future together?

This series is Chris Evans x OFC with Chris Evans' family and friends having recurring appearances. Please find below a lot of Original Characters-

Meera Shankar - The female lead

Meera's Mother

Poppy - Meera's maternal grandmother

Rohan - Meera's elder brother who is 6 years older than her.

Ankur - Concierge of the Hotel Maple-Fawn in Mussoorie

Chapter 1 • Chapter 2

Chapter 4

FIND MORE CHAPTERS BY CLICKING ON MY BIO

P.S- India follows only one timezone.

P.P.S- All the photographs used in the chapters are of the real locations mentioned. I clicked these photographs on my vacation.

This is a work of fiction. The names of the hotels and companies have been changed to avoid copyright issues. Meera Shankar and her family is based on the author and her kin. No offense is intended.

I don’t consent to have any of my work published or featured on any third party app, website or translated. If you are seeing this fanfiction anywhere but tumblr, it has been reposted without my permission. In that case, please do share the link and let me know.

...

Chapter 3

6th September, 7:30am - Dehradun Hotel, India

Meera barely noticed the morning chatter at the breakfast table, the voices becoming dull thuds in her mind. As she dozed off for the tenth time, her mother snapped. "You just woke up Meera! How can you still be sleepy? People in the mornings are usually active, bright-eyed and alert! Yet here you are going back to sleep." "Who said I slept last night?" spoke Meera, unsuccessfully trying to stifle her yawn, "With you and Poppy snoring into my ears, I could hardly sleep." "We don't snore that bad," said her mother, defensively. "Have you ever hear... (yawn) Have you ever even heard yourself snore?" replied a sleepy Meera. "I slept peacefully in my room. Just like a baby," Rohan chimed in with a smug smile. Her sleep deprived brain could not think of a clever repertoire. At least she would fall asleep on the ride to Mussoorie, hopefully avoiding the nasty motion sickness.

6th September, 9:15am - Delhi, India

🎶tring, tring, tring, tring🎶

Chris heard the faint chime of the landline in his room. Struggling to find it in the darkness, Chris finally answered the call. The receptionist on the other end of the line was kind. She patiently reminded him about the wake-up call that had been scheduled by him and informed him about the buffet breakfast. The Evans family had reached the fancy hotel in the wee hours of the morning. It had been a relief to exit the Delhi airport sans the company of the media. Jet-lagged and exhausted, they had all collapsed into their beds. Even Chris had fallen asleep as soon as his head had touched the pillow. He now stretched on the bed, missing the warmth of his adorable canine. He knew the best way to deal with jet-lag was to condition your body to the local timezone. After freshening up, he headed towards the buffet, seeking to eat his breakfast in peace.

As there were no direct flights from Boston to Dehradun, they had decided to stay for a day in Delhi, just to rest their bones. Tomorrow, they would catch the flight to Dehradun. As Chris understood, their hotel in Mussoorie was around 6 hours away from Dehradun airport. He did not look forward to the excessive travel. He knew they would all be tired out for a week before they started feeling normal again.

He was soon joined by his family for breakfast. A large family of 7 Americans was not an unusual sight for the patrons of this hotel. Being one of the most luxurious and expensive hotels in the city, tourists from across the world flocked to the 5-star property. The best part? Nobody recognized them, especially Chris. While Chris did have a huge fan following in India, he was not immediately recognisable with his large beard and overgrown hair.

"Do we have anything planned for today?" Chris confirmed with Carly as she demolished her pancakes, "Not really. The hotel did offer a tour of the local tourist hotspots, but I didn't think anyone would be up for a day out." "Especially in this heat," chimed in Shanna. "From what I Google searched, Delhi has beautiful forts and structures. There are even expansive gardens in the city! Maybe we can visit just one site before leaving tomorrow?" suggested their mother Lisa. "I will check with the concierge and see what they recommend," offered Scott.

Chris settled back in his room after the breakfast, checking-in with Tara about Dodger. He dozed off while waiting for a reply.

Same day, 11:40pm - Dehradun-Mussoorie road

Meera woke up with a jerk as the car pulled around a corner, her heart beating fast. They were on the last portion of the winding roads, almost at the top of the hill. Dazed, she looked around the SUV, her mother and brother were wide awake and Poppy had nodded off. From the window, Meera saw the mountains and trees in all their glory, but the motion of the car lulled her exhausted mind back to sleep.

Almost 20 minutes later, she woke up again as her mother gently taped her on the shoulder. "We have reached," she quietly said, "Are you feeling okay?" Blinking her eyes, Meera managed to say yes. Chilly breeze greeted her as she opened the door of the car. Audibly shuddering, she shut the door, reluctant to leave the warm vehicle. Her brother pulled it open again, "Wake up sleepy head! Look how beautiful it is!" "It is COLD," replied Meera hoarsely, still struggling to find her bearings. "Okay look, it is just 10 steps from the car to the hotel's entrance. Just 10 steps! Then you will be in nice toasty-warm lobby. Let's go! The hills are calling us! Let's go let's go!!" Meera smiled at her brother's exuberance. Mountains had the same effect on him that beaches had on her. Bracing herself for the cold, Meera dashed from the car and into the hotel.

Maple-Fawn was one of the few 5-star hotels in Mussoorie. The international company had a chain of hotels in the country, but their property at this hill-station had been voted as one of the bests. The lobby section was intimidating to say the least. White marble flooring, polished wood-panelled walls, and elegant paintings and statues gave a sophisticated, warm vibe. As the family was checking-in, the male concierge asked for Meera, "Welcome to Maple-Fawn everyone. Do we have a Mrs Meera Shankar amongst us?" "It is Ms Meera Shankar, and that would be me," she replied. "Hello ma'am. I am Ankur, the resident concierge of this property. As I am led to believe, you are the one with the food allergies, correct?" "Yes absolutely." "We received your email ma'am, the one with the list of foods you are allergic to, and a couple of recipes which would suit you. Can we discuss it once you are settled-in?" "Oh right yes. How about we meet again after one hour?" "Sure ma'am. I will meet you with the chef in your room," confirmed Ankur.

The receptionist handed them the key cards to their rooms. "As I can see in the system, you have booked two rooms, with the 3 women living in one room and Mr Rohan living in another. Would you like to have a single bed mattress in your room ma'am? It would be more comfortable," suggested the receptionist. As her mother refused after hearing the cost for the extra mattress, Meera had to chuckle. Even the receptionist must have wondered how will 3 fat women fit on a queen-sized bed, she thought.

"Why should we spend so much money on a mattress when we call all sleep together on the same bed?" argued Meera's mother as they reached their rooms, "We have already spent so much on this expensive hotel, I am certainly not paying for anything extra." Meera's face fell as she heard those words. It had been difficult to find a hotel which would cater to her food allergies. While various brands offered food for people who were strictly vegetarian or vegan, the hotel staff, usually the chefs, could never wrap their minds around how could a person be allergic to so many things. Luckily, Maple-Fawn had been accommodating, but being on the upper-end luxurious side of things, the stay at the hotel itself had costed them around 4 months of Rohan's salary. "I will get to snuggle-up to my daughter on the same bed and sleep. I can't wait!" continued Meera's mother. "Creep," muttered Meera.

But despite herself, Meera had to admit, the view from their room was to die for...

Same day, 3pm - Delhi

Chris awoke to someone ringing the doorbell of his room. Stumbling across the room in the darkness, he opened the door to see Carly. "Hey Chris, we are going to Rori gardens, do you want to tag along?" "What? Which gardens?" "Rori, or something like that. I don't understand most of the names here," sheepishly admitted Carly. "Should I show you the brochure?" Nodding his reply, Chris stepped aside to let Carly in. "Oh God, it is dark in here, let there be light!" "No wait sto..." But before Chris could finish his sentence, Carly had opened the curtains, flooding the room with bright sunlight. "Aargh" Chris groaned at the sudden light, hidding under the covers on his bed. Laughing, Carly tried to pull the covers off of him, but Chris held on tight. "C'mon you big baby! You are worse than your niece and nephews! Even they are playing in the swimming pool and here you are, hiding underneath the covers!" "It's too bright! Turn down the sun!" Chris whined. "No way! Get up now! See this garden looks like fun. Don't stay held up in your room." Chris muttered something. "Christopher Evans, come out now or else I WILL tickle you!" Carly threatened. Uncovering his head, Chris opened one eye, "What do you want, you Kraken monster?!" Carly smiled, it had been too long since Chris had called her by the nickname. A change of location was maybe just what he needed afterall.

Chris met Carly, Scott and Lisa in the lobby, Shanna choosing to stay behind with the kids. Their hotel, Maple-Fawn, had provided them with a guide and comfortable cars. If Chris wasn't mistaken, they were going to stay at the brand's property in Mussoorie as well. "What is the name of the garden again?" Chris asked their Guide. "They are called Lodhi Gardens," came the prompt reply. "It is spread over 90 acres and contains some of the best landscaping seen here in Delhi. The garden is also home to tombs of various kings who had once ruled Delhi." "Oh so it's a graveyard," inquired Scott excitedly. Chris chucked at his brother's excitement. "Not at all sir," replied their Guide, "The garden is used as a park, where people jog, do yoga, exercise and kids play around. You will get an idea once we reach."

While the road to Lodhi Gardens had been full of traffic and commotion, the place itself was peaceful and serene. Tall trees surrounded the walkways, manicured green lawns with flower beds covered the uneven terrain, while the graves of the bygone kings were nothing like the Evans family had seen before. These were ancient structures, with delicate ornate carvings on the walls. "Woah," whispered Scott, "If these are their graves, then I can't even imagine how royal their palaces must have been!"

Chris caught himself smiling. As much as he willed himself not to feel happiness, he couldn't help but feel a little bit relaxed. Lodhi Gardens were beautiful.

[ink-asunder]

Dragon Hazel, Human Sacrifice - Doctor Strange Fanfiction

A/N: Here’s part two of the Dragon!Hazel-wants-a-human-companion-offering fic. ( @writer-deann )

Characters: Stephen Strange, the Ancient One, La Gaelik (Hazel) (female OC)

Setting: The Ancient One lives au, also there’s dragons au.

Summary: While reinstating a peace treaty with the Masters of the Mystic Arts, a reclusive dragon decides she wants a human sacrifice. For companionship, she claims. Though the conditions of such a task turn out to be more convoluted than anyone expected.

Word count: 1,702

Part 1 - Part 2 (here)

-

They finally found a volunteer from Kamar-taj. A strappling young man from the acolyte rank. He said his goodbyes to his peers and parents, then Wong and Stephen took him to the lair of La Gaelik. The dragon roused as they approached her and murmured some quick greeting so they’d be allowed to speak.

“We have brought our sacrifice,” Stephen gestured to the young man, who stood up straight and watched the dragon carefully. “Please accept our offering in exchange for your peace.”

She eyed the boy. “What is this?”

“What?”

She blinked. Stephen tried to be more polite this time. “I’m sorry?”

“This is a boy,” the dragon stated in a bored tone. “I wanted a girl.”

Stephen felt his jaw clench. “Then you should’ve said—”

Wong kicked his shin to shut him up and bowed his head to the dragon.

“Of course, ma’am. We’ll bring your companion soon.”

And they left before anything else could go wrong.

*   *   *

“She didn’t take him,” the Ancient One stated as Stephen met her by the window of the New York Sanctum.

“You knew?” Stephen asked. She didn’t look away from the window. “Of course you did.”

Her voice was oddly reserved when she spoke again. He hadn’t heard her speak in such away since their final confrontation before fighting Kaecilius. He had a mind to ask her what was wrong, but he knew he wouldn’t get an answer from her if she hadn’t already told him.

“Find a companion that suits her,” the Ancient One ordered. “Fulfill her orders. We need this treaty.”

*   *   *

Luckily, there were a number of novices and acolytes willing to volunteer, so Stephen and Wong had a selection to pick through for their discerning critic. They picked a young woman who was a novice and brought her to the dragon.

“You’re back,” the dragon glanced at them. Stephen gestured to the young woman they brought.

“Your sacrifice,” he offered.

The dragon straightened and inched closer to scrutinize the girl. At least she looked this time.

“Not bad,” she murmured. “She’s a little young, don’t you think?”

Stephen glanced slowly between the dragon and the woman, who gave him a mortified look.

“Would you prefer... older?”

“I don’t want to take a novice away from her studies, no,” the dragon pulled back and settled back on her ledge of stone.

“Alright,” Stephen nodded and pursed his lips before he said something he regretted.

The next woman they brought was a higher acolyte.

“Are you well-read?” the dragon questioned her.

“Quite,” the acolyte replied. “I love reading.”

“Mm,” the dragon hummed and tilted her head. “And are you able-bodied?”

“Yes. Whatever you ask of me, I can perform as well as any human.”

That was a statement of hubris, but no one questioned her. This was the third person Stephen had brought to La Gaelik, and his patience was running thin.

“Are you good at playing chess?” the dragon asked.

“Yes, ma’am. We had a club at my high school.”

“That’s too bad.”

Stephen slowly turned to glare at Wong.

“I don’t want someone who is good at chess,” the dragon dismissed. “Bring me someone else.”

*   *   *

Stephen’s patience was wearing thin. Amidst the tens of offerings taken to the dragon, she accepted not a single one of them. And with each companion, she gave another piece of helpful and progressively more specific feedback.

“Can you play erhu?”

“No...”

“Unacceptable, bring me another.”

The quest for a suitable offering became a draft. Instead of finding a volunteer, all masters and acolytes in the order were called forth and interviewed based on their meeting the convoluted criteria for the dragon. So far, they needed a female of acolyte or higher rank who was above the age of consent and preferably older, able-bodied, a skilled spellcaster, well-read, didn’t like playing chess, and could play erhu. After several days of struggling to find a suitor, a few people assembled group erhu lessons in their spare time.

Stephen and Wong brought the most suitable woman they could find. It would be a hard loss, but they were running out of options. The dragon leveled Stephen with an ill-amused look.

“This is a virgin, Stephen,” she snapped.

“How was I supposed to know that?” he demanded. He was getting tired of their game.

“I’m sure you will next time.”

Stephen had to kick a nearby bush once the three of them left the cave.

“Well, at least she’s not cliche,” he finally muttered.

So, now the requirements included someone who was sexually active, and Stephen did not let himself consider what that implied about this contract; he just kept looking. After that, the instructions got even more niche and unreasonable. Has an allergy to acetaminophen. Can ride horses. Is a dog person. Has had head trauma at some point in her life.

“Does she have to be cisgender?” Stephen asked after another rejection.

“Stephen!” the dragon straightened, shocked and offended.

“I’m just asking!”

Finally, they found someone who met the specific requirements. Anything based on opinion was altered—don’t like dogs? Now you do. Won a chess tournament? Now you have amnesia and don’t know how to play. Even then, it was so difficult. And Stephen was about to lose his damn mind.

Now, he stood to the side of the cave, turning a twig in his hands to keep them busy as they waited. The dragon observed the woman they brought, but Stephen had come to recognize her immeasurable, day-ruining disappointment.

“Have you ever seen Star Wars?” she asked.

“Yes.” There was no point lying. No doubt she’d be disappointed whatever the answer.

And disappointed she was.

“Alright,” she sighed. “You can go home now.”

Stephen snapped the stick he’d been holding in half.

“How do you even know what that is?” he demanded.

“There’s a drive-in movie theater some dozen miles from here,” the dragon replied. And that was all their was to it.

Stephen was close to giving up. As he, Wong, and the woman returned to Kamar-taj, they were met by the Ancient One. Stephen could barely meet her eyes. That was the last person in their order they could’ve found. If they wanted to appease the dragon, they’d need to branch out of their order, and who knew if they could do that safely.

They met with the Ancient One in her study, who avoided looking at them for a long time, like she was guilty of something.

“Now we need someone whose never seen Star Wars,” Stephen relayed the information in an exasperated tone. “That was our last potential candidate. If we’re going to fulfill our end of the deal, we’ll need to branch out. Though I don’t know how we’re going to do that safely and humanely....”

“No, we don’t need to do that....” The Ancient One looked up. Her expression was dismal. A grim pout. A guilty grim pout.

Stephen raised his eyebrows.

“I haven’t seen Star Wars,” she quietly admitted. Stephen leaned forward.

“And as for all that other stuff?”

The Ancient One pursed her lips. “I think she wants me specifically.”

“Why didn’t you say something?” Stephen demanded. No, he knew why. She was the Sorcerer Supreme. She couldn’t just abandon her order and her duties to be some dragon’s pet. Perhaps she found it a better solution to ignore the possibility entirely.

Stephen gave a sigh of defeat, and the Ancient One sat up a little straighter.

“We’ll negotiate with her tomorrow. After you take me to her.”

Stephen nodded. This whole peace talk business was an absolute mess.

*   *   *

The dragon was lying down as usual with her back to them this time as they entered the cave. She called a greeting over her shoulder, but didn’t turn.

“We’ve brought your final sacrifice,” Stephen announced. “She meets all your criteria.”

The dragon scoffed. “Does she have green eyes?”

The Ancient One spoke this time. “Yes.”

The dragon twisted around as if startled. She stared with a face of awe and disbelief at her offering. The Ancient One stood before her, dressed in golden robes, a labrodorite pendant hanging from her neck. In that moment, La Gaelik thought she might tremble beneath the blessing of the other’s gaze.

The dragon then sat back and grinned.

“It’s about time you showed up,” she said. “What took you so long?”

“Well, not that you noticed, but I’ve been recovering from an injury,” the Ancient One replied. “I haven’t had time to come see you, Haalaan.”

“Oh, I noticed, Giin,” the dragon tilted her head, a mischievous look in her eye.

Stephen glanced at Wong, who leaned closer to him.

“Giin means ‘mine,’” Wong explained. “She’s accepted her.”

“Great,” Stephen muttered. When he looked back up, the Ancient One was already standing right in front of the dragon with her arms draped around the dragon’s neck. The dragon closed her eyes and flicked her tail contently.

“Now you’re trying to force me into early retirement,” the Ancient One mumbled against the dragon’s fur.

“There’s nothing ‘early’ about anything you do, Ancient One.”

The Ancient One grinned up at her. “How could I stay here when I have an order to lead? You’ve always been so self-indulgent.”

The dragon pressed her head against the Ancient One’s chest. “I only wanted to see you, Giin. Go back home.”

“Thank you.”

*   *   *

Not a day later, Stephen found the Ancient One in the courtyard with someone he’d never seen before. A woman with wild black hair was lying across the veranda with her head in the Ancient One’s lap. She seemed peacefully asleep as the Ancient One calmly brushed a hand through her hair.

“New recruit?” Stephen guessed quietly. The stranger spoke up in a lazy voice, eyes still closed.

“No, Stephen, I’m not here for mentorship....”

That voice! Stephen froze in his tracks, obviously flustered, as he looked between the girl and the Ancient One.

“That’s not—”

“I’m her companion, remember?” the Ancient One grinned. “This was the best negotiating we could come to since I couldn’t leave the sanctuary.”

Stephen stared at the dragon in human form draped across the Ancient One’s lap.

“This has to be violating our treaty in some way.”

Fin.

[themiddlelayer]

#YouKnowMe

I have had 2 abortions, both surgical under general anesthesia. They were practically back-to-back right around my 21st birthday. I was married. I had a toddler. I was the sole financial provider in my home. Being pregnant made me so sick I could barely function. I had been on and off hormonal birth control for years and it made me absolutely insane and sick for one week a month. The flux in hormones turned me into, for lack of a better work, a PMDD Monster. I’d gotten a diaphragm from Planned Parenthood but hadn’t realized just how bad my allergy to the the required spermicide was. 

My husband didn’t take the time to ask for my consent most of the time, let alone whether or not I’d put in my diaphragm. At 20/21 years old the concept of bodily autonomy was foreign to me. Between being sexually assaulted (more than once) and the cultural scripts I’d been taught, I just thought it was normal. I was the bad guy when I said no to him. 

I was lucky in that I was able to get my tubes tied the following spring at 21 years old with only one child while separated from my husband. The worst thing about that: the doctor was working pro bono (Planned Parenthood also got me connected with that service) and after a brief exam said to me, “Well, you’re not too fat so we can do it.”  

(Logically I know that it was about the need for additional hands in surgery based on body type. Emotionally, I felt like I’d been called fat by a medical professional. That was the least direct comment I’ve had about my weight by a doctor since then but it was the first time I’d heard anything like it before and it stung.)

I shared that tweet yesterday on my Facebook and got a message shortly after from a dear friend who is over 10 years my junior. Her message said, “I had an abortion last week.” 

This is a young woman who has always been very vocal about all things political but she hadn’t posted anything direct about the abortion bans that are happening around the country. She said something to the effect of, “I could post #metoo all day but right now I can’t do what you did. I can’t tell anyone.”

She then described her experience of a “safe, legal” abortion. She was 5 weeks along and the doctor made the remark that he doesn’t often see women in the clinic so early. Let me say it again: The abortion doctor sees VERY FEW women before 6 weeks along. 

Let that sink in, in light of the current laws that are being passed.

She had an ultrasound with a wand because it was too soon to do the abdominal type most people think about. Her guy was allowed to come in for that but then was basically kicked out of the room before either of them could process anything. The nurses were very stiff and curt. Only the doctor and his assistant during the procedure showed her any compassion. They gave her a xanax but no other anestesia. She screamed in pain and was worried they would have to go back in because the doctor had to use a microscope to be sure he got it all. 

On top of the physical experience, she described a feeling all-too-familiar to those of us who have made this choice for ourselves. She felt relief that it was done, but then guilty for feeling relief. That guilt comes from the kinds of bullshit that people (typically white, cis men in power) talk about when they give reasons to outlaw abortions. It’s external bullshit that none of us need in the throes of this kind of thing. Period. 

My heart broke for her realizing how lucky I was during my procedures. How lucky I was that I was allowed those choices and that despite my own emotional struggles with my decisions (given the core of my reasons for doing it) I can’t imagine what my life would have looked like without those choices. 

This is what women deal with in the best circumstances. It’s heartbreaking. It’s horrifying. And then we get to hear people talk about these fictional women who use abortion as birth control and shame us for, as she and I both did, choosing the life of our living children over the potential for a zygote to become an embryo then a fetus, and then another child to support with our limited resources and opportunities. Fuck that. 

I’m furious for the women who won’t have the choices we had. I’m furious for the women who live with the bullshit guilt imposed on us by people who have never walked in our shoes judging the choice we were able to make. I’m heartbroken for those of us who endure the physical distress of being pregnant when we are not in a place in our life to be pregnant, let alone raise a/another baby. I’m devastated to think about the women and GIRLS who will find themselves in that place and have no safe, legal options available that will allow them to move forward in their lives in the way that I was able to. 

I’ve got so much of my other shit coming to the surface lately that this feels overwhelming, but I can’t stay silent. I can’t let people keep talking about “those women” when I AM one of those women. I am one of the 1 in 4. You might be, too. And whether or not you can tell your story, know that you are not alone. WE are not alone. Keep fighting. Keep talking. Keep going!

[deeperforme]

Reviews of Five Hypnosis Books You Can Buy for Kindle (+ Douche-O-Meter)

I wrote this a few years ago on my blog, reposting because @ragezdasta​ asked about some of these books and because I’m proud of this effortful writing, from when I was living among the mountains of Italy with no IRL access to hypnotic community. Luckily my life is very different now! But glad I did the reading (I also reviewed Mind Play, Look Into My Eyes, Hypnotize Your Lover, and Hypnotic Realities).

My Voice Will Go With You: The Teaching Tales of Milton H. Erickson

- Edited and with Commentary by Sidney Rosen

Tone:

Folksy, paternalistic anecdotes and worshipful commentary

Valuable for:

Another dose of Erickson and his powerful approach to the unconscious mind, although little that can't be found in a better form in Hypnotic Realities.

Some nice stuff if looked at purely as folksy life wisdom: "When dealing with a problem of difficulty make an interesting design out of it. Then you can concentrate on the interesting design and ignore the back-breaking labor involved."

Many examples of Erickson's conversational, storytelling method of therapy, where the patient's unconscious absorbs the point of sometimes apparently pointless stories (there's some good examples of confusion and boredom being used).

Douche-o-meter (1-5):

4.  I have a hard time with Erickson's quite explicitly paternalistic orientation. Richard Bandler writes, "He only had five goals for people to get well: get out of the hospital, get a job, get married, have children, and send him presents. That was his definition of a cure." It's nice to believe in all-wise gurus, who will forcibly steer your life for your own good, but with statements like "acne can be cured by removing all mirrors" and that he got someone to win an olympic gold medal by telling them "It would be all right,” to do so, he was at least partly full of shit. And that's in an account from inside the cult! One from outside (reported by Bandler): "Virginia [Satir] had met Milton and thought he was creepy and didn’t want anything to do with him." More than a couple of the stories he tells involve a woman getting her breasts out during the session - and he makes sure to remark on the attractiveness level of almost every single female patient.  

I could only find one story Erickson tells where he did not effect a miracle cure: a woman who came to him about weight loss.

In the case of the woman who was not motivated, this was also easily determined when she would not follow the simple suggestion of climbing Squaw Peak. Erickson had already guessed that she was lazy and self-indulgent when he saw her general demeanor, which included the ostentatious, artificial fingernails. ... After she had left, the group was interested in why Erickson had asked her to climb Squaw Peak. Did he want her to “get in touch with her own feelings”? Did he want her to accomplish a task successfully? His answer, surprisingly, was “So she would obey me.”  

Since the book uses his own words, I could at least get a hint of his calm mastery and charisma. But as his transcriber writes, "Erickson was really quite comfortable with power."

Hypnotic language example:

“Did you know that every blade of grass is a different shade of green?”

The bottom line:

Good reading when you've run out of other Erickson books, and have braced yourself for the plunge into the cult of personality.

--

Richard Bandler's Guide to Trance-formation

Tone:

Half university lecture, half ego-tastic rant.

Valuable for:

Step by step therapeutic devices, e.g. "Changing Feelings by Dissociation", usually in the form of a series of visualizations. I doubt that they all work as powerfully as advertised, but they're set out in good detail so you could try for yourself.

A nice glossary/manual of Ericksonian techniques at the back (which you can get from Hypnotic Realities, but not as organized - very much unlike Erickson, he is a systematizer)

Lots of powerful hypnosis advice. "the truth is, you speak in a monotone if you’re going to speak incongruently. If you speak congruently and slowly and inflect your voice downward where you give commands, people will respond much more intensely."

Bandler is the source (loudest if not the first) for a number of ideas we now teach as fact, like about the unconscious not processing negations.

Douche-o-meter (1-5):

5. I was put in mind of L. Ron Hubbard for the level of dubious self-aggrandizement: he describes himself as a mathematician and computer scientist as well as a psychologist, and he brags about curing allergies, schizophrenia, and holocaust trauma. Having tasted blood with NLP, he introduces his freshly trademarked Design Human Engineering (DHE) and Neuro-Hypnotic Repatterning (NHR). He's extraordinarily bitchy to Erickson, who Bandler asserts never did the handshake induction correctly: "Since he was paralyzed, he couldn’t have carried out the movements as smoothly and as rapidly as is required. But I do credit him with giving me the idea."

Hypnotic language example:

“You’re sitting back in the chair, your feet are on the ground, your hands in your lap . . . and you can start to feel more relaxed.”

The bottom line:

Something of a greatest hits collection from a master, who it seems is second only to Erickson in constructing the foundation for modern hypnosis - and yet before reviewing my notes, I mostly remembered the bad impression.

--

Monsters and Magical Sticks: There is no such thing as hypnosis?

- Stephen Heller and Terry Steele

Tone:

Bragging and hectoring.

Valuable for:

The message that hypnosis permeates daily life and interaction - at least by their definition of hypnosis as "any transaction and communication that causes an individual to go into their own experiences and call upon their own imagination in order to respond". They write:

hypnosis is a form of education. Ideas, beliefs, possibilities, fantasies, and much more, may be “suggested” and, if accepted, and acted upon several times, they may become a conditioned part of your behavior.

The authors argue that we spend most of our lives reacting in an unconscious way. To be more functional we have to learn to detect these patterns, and when necessary, break them.  

A lot of interesting material about people's different modalities (e.g. visual, auditory), and the idea that therapeutic ends can be reached by moving people between modalities. This is one of a number of specific technical procedures that are described, as in Bandler's book.

Douch-o-meter (1-5):

5. Full of hero psychiatrist stories, more dubious than the other books. There are soberly presented anecdotes about parental mistreatment causing someone to become a homosexual (when, after playing doctor with a girl, a boy is beaten, he learns "It is bad to do this with girls, but it is OK to do it with boys.") or a slut (when a girl told her mother "no", her mother said, "Don’t you ever say ‘No’!" so now she can't say no to men) And this from a book published in 1987! And these authors may be the two unfunniest people in the world: "I am now going to go out on a limb. I hope that you will refrain from sawing it off while I am perched upon it." Finally, I consider their attempts to use to use dumb NLP devices on the reader extremely tacky. ("You may wish...now...to utilize the above example..." etc)

Hypnotic language example:

"Can you remember a time you took a ride by yourself and really enjoyed the scenery or a time you were working on your hobby and felt pleased. That's a nice feeling isn't it."

The bottom line:

Read to me like a photocopy of a photocopy of Erickson, except nearly illiterate (a chapter title is "Reality...Really???"), but with something to say about the unconscious.

--

The Complete Idiot’s Guide to Hypnosis

- Roberta Temes

Tone:

Basic, and reassuring.

Valuable for:

A lot of basic information that checks out with everything else I've read and experienced. It's a curious book for how it specifically tells you not to hypnotize people (not without a degree of some kind), and yet provides step-by-step instructions that would help to do it. But ostensibly the focus is on self-hypnosis, and on preparing you for a visit to a hypnotherapist (and incidentally promoting hypnotherapy). So there's much that is useful for pre-talk.

There's a lot of nice imagery and language for guiding someone in a positive way, and more accessible Erickson than maybe can be found anywhere else. There's definitely an emphasis on writing and word choice, since her approach involves constructing a script alongside the client and then just reading it to them in trance. While I have doubts whether simply giving someone a list of suggestions like this could really change their longterm behaviour, I like how this collaboration process emphasizes trust and consent.

I like that unlike every other hypnosis book I've read, the author mentions scientific experiments to support certain points - of course this is of limited value without citations. (in some cases she provides a name and affiliation, which would usually be enough to look up the study)

Since the theme of the book is, "hypnosis can help with a lot of things", there's material about how to approach bad habits, work patterns, medical procedures, parenting, social anxiety, and more, that I haven't found anywhere else.

Doucho-o-meter (1-5): 2.

Only a little - there's a part at the end of the book where, after scaring her readers away from amateur and stage hypnotists throughout, she gives a list of her hypnotherapist friends, including their office phone numbers. But in general it's warm and helpful. There are chapters on very questionable topics, like past life regression, but she adds an appropriate amount of disclaimers. She does tell a few "hero psychiatrist" tales - I wish one of these books would talk about problem solving with a client, where the first thing doesn't necessarily work. Even with as much hypnosis as I've done I know she's leaving out a lot.

Hypnotic language example:

Have you noticed how

tranquil

the ocean is today?

The bottom line:

Not a bad first book about hypnosis, both for hypnotists and people who want to be hypnotized. For more advanced practitioners, if you can look past the title, the dumb cartoons, and all the other busy affectations of the "Complete Idiot's" editorial style, there are some fresh perspectives.

--

The Easy Way to Stop Smoking

- Allen Carr

Tone:

Happy fast-talking 1950s salesman, with something actually helpful to sell.

Valuable for:

A wonderful case study in suggestive language, creating expectations, and reframing, all employed in the "shotgun" approach also described by Erickson. Carr didn't know what approach would stick with a given reader, so he fires off all of them, so many ways of hitting his core messages:  quitting is easy; you don't like cigarettes since they're gross, you're just addicted to nicotine; and you will love being a non-smoker. Personal stories, powerful sensory images, semi-scientific facts, and straight up commands.

He uses many devices us students of hypnosis will recognize. The biggest one is his instruction to keep smoking while reading it, and not stop smoking before you reach the end. Which of course is an implicit suggestion that you will stop smoking when you finish the book.

Douche-o-meter (1-5):

2. Although this book is full of promotions for other products of his, and disses of other approaches to quitting smoking, Carr is so full of genuine joy and enthusiasm that it's infectious (which is kind of how the book works). He literally encourages you to say to yourself, "YIPPEE! I’M A NON-SMOKER!" I also enjoyed his old timey language, as in "All smokers know in their heart of hearts that they are mugs."

Hypnotic language example:

"Go to a party, and rejoice in the fact that you do not have to smoke. It will quickly prove to you the beautiful truth that life is so much better without cigarettes."

The bottom line:

Well worth a look - especially if you're trying to quit smoking.

[theliterateape]

The Old Lady Who Hated Halloween Put A Sign Up Letting Us Know

By Don Hall

When I lived in Arkansas, there was a woman in our neighborhood who absolutely hated Halloween. I don’t know if it was that she was extremely Christian and found the themes of ghouls and monsters and magic to be offensive or if she simply didn’t like kids. Perhaps she had some sort of traumatic event on Halloween when she was younger. No matter. Every Halloween, she’d sit outside her house to scream at the kids as they would come up to her yard — every other home in the neighborhood was decked with fake spiderwebs and jack-o-lanterns and were reservoirs of candy. Chris (one of my roommates) and I would buy tons of the good stuff (aka full-sized Snickers, Twix, and Reese’s Cups) and had a blast with the kids. But not this lady. 

At first I was annoyed by her curmudgeonly attitude toward a harmless kid’s holiday. I mean, these weren’t the asshole kids who fucked with your house if you didn’t provide them the sugar-rush they so craved. These were mostly littler kids and the old lady scared them by screaming from her porch.

One year, as October was at the halfway mark, Chris went over to talk to her. He said later that he had suggested she put up a simple sign on her lawn that declared to all walking by that she did not participate in Halloween and that the kids should just pass her place by. It did not go well, according to him. She felt that she shouldn’t have to be singled out, that the children shouldn’t be bothering people anyway and why not just do away with the practice on the block altogether instead of forcing her to put up some sign.

We didn’t push the issue as it wasn’t really our business. On the day of Halloween, however, sure enough, she put up a very nice sign that said “This House Does Not Celebrate Halloween. Please Come Back at Easter and Candy Will Be Given Out Then.” And, lo and behold, the kids left her house alone. I don’t know if she gave out candy at Easter but I thought it was a nice way of dealing with it. She managed to protect herself adequately without forcing everyone else to stifle the joy and enthusiasm of the night which, despite it being Chris’s idea, I thought was both responsible and kind.

Just lately, Vice President Joe Biden is under attack for touching women inappropriately. He’s not being accused of sexually harassing anyone because the man is ebullient and tactile with men, women, children with no regard for sex. The man is just enthusiastic about hugging and showing affection in a physical way. I can’t say why so many women have an issue with this, as if consent is required in every physical interaction but I respect their position. Maybe they don’t want to be touched because they had a traumatic experience earlier, maybe because they grew up in less tactile families, maybe they are using this issue as a way to sour voters on Biden so Bernie or Kamala are more viable options. The why isn’t really all that important. 

What is important is that most people don’t mind him hugging them or the onslaught of complaint would be voluminous. I mean, over the forty or fifty years as a political figure, I’d guess the guy has hugged and enthusiastically greeted thousands upon thousands of people so the seven women complaining about his hugging them without explicit consent is a margin of a margin of a sliver of that number.

Most people don’t mind a big, friendly greeting. But a few do. They really do. They have prioritized their personal space in such a way that they feel requires everyone to forego the spontaneous joy encapsulated with a happy to meet you greeting. A backslapping, fun way of saying hello or showing affection. I think they are right to feel that no one should invade their person should they feel it is a violation but I hardly think their peace of mind is worth the stifling of joy that everyone else gets from a grand, high-minded hug.

My suggestion is simple. If you feel somehow that no unsolicited physical contact is appropriate, wear a sign or a t-shirt or a hat that declares that you do not want to be touched without expressed permission to do so. If you have kids who have suffered trauma and they need some sort of badge to indicate that grandpa shouldn’t tussle his hair, treat it no differently than a peanut allergy rather than expect everyone to stop eating peanuts.

It is completely your right to protect your personal space and for whatever reasons you may have. It is, however, unreasonable to expect those with no sexual or harmful intent to read your mind and somehow know that this will be interpreted as inappropriate. It is unreasonable to expect that no one ever engage in any spontaneous hugs because you don’t care for them. I’ll add that, unfortunately, this isn’t going to stop the assholes looking to cop a feel which is an entirely separate issue but it will let the Joe Biden’s of the world, the truly gregarious, genuinely affectionate humans out there understand where your boundaries are.

I suppose a better way of looking at it (and in an unusually funny piece of satire on behalf of SNL) is this (watch it to the end):

The saddest thing I can imagine is the looking out among all the people in the world and only seeing predators when so many simply are not. Some, like Joe Biden, are just really nice people who like to express their affection by getting up in there and touching you. I’d prefer to live in a world where those people are not shut down because there’s enough anger and suspicion in society as it is to paint us all as monsters.

I’ll quote a Faceborg post of a friend who sums this up so much better than I can:

As both a woman and a survivor, I actually have a problem with the idea that this whole thing is supposed to be about women reclaiming their voices and rejecting victimhood. Barring obvious and egregious assault, if you can't own your own boundaries and articulate them at the time they're being breached, that is the opposite of empowerment and the epitome of victimhood.

Maybe articulating those boundaries is uncomfortable for whatever reason. I get uncomfortable asking for a raise even when I know I deserve it. But I don't make my boss read my mind that I want a raise and then torch him two years later because he didn't give me one. Life is sometimes uncomfortable -- learning to recognize and enforce our boundaries respectfully (unless real danger is involved), and learning to operate outside of our comfort-zone sometimes, are fundamental adult skills. Sometimes we'll be better at it than others, but it's not reasonable to expect others to know my boundaries, nor is it reasonable to expect everyone else to adopt my boundaries just so I'll never, ever be uncomfortable.

When I was in my early 30s I moved to a new town where I knew no one. A friend of mine contacted a friend of his and before I even got there I had been invited to a party by someone I'd never met. This guy was part of a close-knit group of friends; the very next time I saw these people, the women hugged me and the guys all kissed me on the cheek to say hello, even though I had only met them once. It was clear that this was how they always greeted one another, and not only did I not take offense at near strangers touching or kissing me in what was obviously meant to be an affectionate gesture, but it actually meant a lot to me to be so quickly and obviously accepted as part of this group during a particularly lonely time in my life, and to know that they were happy to see me. FWIW, I eventually married one of them.

So why is it okay that someone who doesn't communicate her own boundaries gets to decide that her boundaries should be the default for the rest of us? If I had been a different person, perhaps I might have felt uncomfortable with physical affection from people whom I'd just met, but then it would have been my responsibility to say so. Maybe it would have been awkward. Maybe I might have been afraid that if I rejected their gestures they wouldn't like me. But on the flipside, if that's all it took for them to withdraw their friendship, I would have been better off without that friendship in the first place.

I certainly respect someone else's right to feel that discomfort. But I don't respect their right to impose it as the standard by which everyone else has to operate, especially when they don't speak up for themselves and give people the chance to respect said boundaries. (Again, I'm not talking about egregious words or acts like, say, talking about grabbing women by the pussy....)

The world owes none of us a life free of all discomfort, free of all awkwardness, free of all confrontation. And this kind of hysteria robs young women (and the rest of us) of real agency instead of teaching us to speak up when it really matters, to shake off that which really doesn't, and to understand that that line is different for everyone.

— Risa McDonnell

[megaragalanis]

PART 1: THE BASICS

What is your full name?

Megara “Meg” Loukritia Galanis

Where and when were you born?

A looong, looong time ago in Greece

Who are/were your parents? (Know their names, occupations, personalities, etc.)

Her father’s Creon, King of Thebes and her mother is Philomena, the King’s mistress and the daughter of one of Creon’s advisers. She never really got to meet her father and was majorly mistreated, leading to her living a life on her own, mostly.

Do you have any siblings? What are/were they like?

 Megara has two brothers, Arcadius and Dion next to a bunch of half-brothers and half-sisters. She believes none of them have survived the Exodus.

Where do you live now, and with whom? Describe the place and the person/people.

She lives in Fabletown, a city she uses as her new playground, a new chance, a new life to start over after having been dead and brought back to life -- but sadly she’s still involved with Hades. She enjoys the people, the food, the different stories she gets to experience, though she remains for herself, guarded.

What is your occupation?

Personal assistant of Holden Kasabian 

Write a full physical description of yourself. You might want to consider factors such as: height, weight, race, hair and eye color, style of dress, and any tattoos, scars, or distinguishing marks.

She is standing at 5′6 ft, dark hair and pale blue eyes -- she likes to dress accordingly for work (pencil skirts, blouses, dresses, high heels) and likes to wear rather loose clothes for her personal agendas, depending on the location and occasion.

To which social class do you belong?

Uncertain since she’s bound to Holden. I’d say middle-class

Do you have any allergies, diseases, or other physical weaknesses?

allergies? men

Are you right- or left-handed?

right handed

What does your voice sound like?

melodic, a bit hoarse, seductive

What words and/or phrases do you use very frequently?

she likes to give people pet names 

What do you have in your pockets?

a picklock, some money

Do you have any quirks, strange mannerisms, annoying habits, or other defining characteristics?

eyes rolling, crossed arms.

PART 2: GROWING UP

How would you describe your childhood in general?

Difficult to unbearable. She grew up as an outcast considering she’s a bastard. She was never fully recognized as a princess and never expected to be one, so she started to gain her own reputation and she started dating her first boyfriend at a young age, at 16.

What is your earliest memory?

Waging up in a strange home -- an orphanage, after passing out at a festival. her mother dropped her off after she couldn’t provide for her anymore.

How much schooling have you had?

None, everything is self-taught, street-smarts.

Where did you learn most of your skills and other abilities?

Self-taught and a few friends

While growing up, did you have any role models? If so, describe them.

The Greek Goddess Athena comes to mind -- the Goddess of war and wisdom.

While growing up, how did you get along with the other members of your family?

Not really, because they were all living apart

As a child, what did you want to be when you grew up?

either a writer or a designer for Kings and Queens

As a child, what were your favorite activities?

running, pulling pranks, stealing food, taking hot baths, sneaking into plays

As a child, what kinds of personality traits did you display?

stubbornness, recklessness, wit, temperament, energy, courage.

As a child, were you popular? Who were your friends, and what were they like?

She didn’t have many friends, but she considered them to be her actual family, people she could rely on. They fed one another and made sure each and every one of them is safe and had a relatively filled stomach.

When and with whom was your first kiss?

With Lysander, her first boyfriend. She was fifteen at that time, at the peak of creating herself and realizing her own dreams. He was the one she loved and adored.

Are you a virgin? If not, when and with whom did you lose your virginity?

She lost her virginity to Hercules later within the story.

PART 3: PAST INFLUENCES

What do you consider the most important event of your life so far?

Selling her own soul to Hades in order to save Lysander.

Who has had the most influence on you?

Hades/Holden in terms of bad influence, Hercules and Aladdin/Ali in terms of good influence.

What do you consider your greatest achievement?

Saving Hercules’ life.

What is your greatest regret?

selling her soul to Hades

What is the most evil thing you have ever done?

Betraying and lying to Hercules

Do you have a criminal record of any kind?

Not that she is aware of.

When was the time you were the most frightened?

The moment she died and the moment she thought she’d lost Hercules forever.

What is the most embarrassing thing ever to happen to you?

Being exposed for lying.

If you could change one thing from your past, what would it be, and why?

Again, signing the contract and saving Lysander’s life even though he didn’t deserve her pity. 

What is your best memory?

her first major connection to someone else than Hades/Holden, kissing Hercules for the first time.

What is your worst memory?

Dying, selling her soul

PART 4: BELIEFS & OPINIONS

Are you basically optimistic or pessimistic?

mostly realistic, actually. With a tendency to pessimism. 

What is your greatest fear?

Never regaining her freedom

What are your religious views?

She believes in the Greek Gods (naturally, she technically serves one), so she’s Hellenistic.

What are your political views?

Equality, feminism and liberal.

What are your views on sex?

Preferred to love, it is the freedom to choose what you want to do with your body, it combines pleasure with consent if applied correctly.

Are you able to kill? Under what circumstances do you find killing to be acceptable or unacceptable?

Killing would be acceptable in order to save your friends, family and loved ones. Could Meg kill? possibly

In your opinion, what is the most evil thing any human being could do?

Permanently damaging someone else, either through words, actions or gestures.

Do you believe in the existence of soul mates and/or true love?

She believes in soul mates, yes.

What do you believe makes a successful life?

freedom, creativity, self-expression. Love.

How honest are you about your thoughts and feelings (i.e. do you hide your true self from others, and in what way)?

She isn’t necessarily honest. She likes to be blunt and outspoken, but that doesn’t include her emotions except at a time of complete frustration, for instance if Holden annoys her and really gets to her.

Do you have any biases or prejudices?

Men can be pretty shitty, people in general can be backstabbers, so she tries to hide a part of her.

Is there anything you absolutely refuse to do under any circumstances? Why do you refuse to do it?

Betray Hercules again. it broke their heart the first time around, she’s trying to steer clear of them, in fact.

Who or what, if anything, would you die for (or otherwise go to extremes for)?

Hercules and a few friends like Goldie and Ali.

PART 5: RELATIONSHIPS W/OTHERS

In general, how do you treat others (politely, rudely, by keeping them at a distance, etc.)? Does your treatment of them change depending on how well you know them, and if so, how?

She is usually polite, but keeps people at a distance. She likes to use wit as a form of barrier between her and others, though she is never extremely rude.

Who is the most important person in your life, and why?

Hercules has shown her the way, that love isn’t a weakness, that it’s worth fighting for. Her rather difficult upbringing was devoid of love, but her life didn’t have to be. She lives in Fabletown knowing that open your heart can sometimes lead to something better and greater than she has anticipated -- and they have shown her the kind of worships she’s after.

Who is the person you respect the most, and why?

Herself -- she might sound conceited, but that’s just how she operates. She tries to remember her self-worth, especially around Holden/Hades. 

Who are your friends? Do you have a best friend? Describe these people.

If she’d have to name her best friend, then it would be Ali. They’re both in the same position on opposites sides, share a connection that his unrivaled and reminds Megara of her friends back home. She respects and trusts him and while she does have a handful of friends, it is Ali she returns to every time.

Do you have a spouse or significant other? If so, describe this person.

Not at the moment, no. Ever since her arrival in Fabletown she’s been distant, also due to her involvement with Holden. She fears Hercules will get too close and will get them both into loads of trouble. Megara works on a solution, however -- on returning to love and its beauty. One day, definitely.

Have you ever been in love? If so, describe what happened.

Lysander, a soldier who made the wrong choices, whose debt and moral compass were out of balance, causing him to make a deal with the devil, in that case Holden Kasabian, or Hades as he knew him. She loved Lysander more than she loved herself, so Megara sold her soul to Hades to protect him from a life in the Underworld as a condemned soul. Lysander moved on and she was forever trapped in a gilded cage. The end.

What do you look for in a potential lover?

Strength, independence, prestige, humor and someone who is unapologetic about who he is.

How close are you to your family?

Not close at all and even if she wanted to; they’re probably dead.

Have you started your own family? If so, describe them. If not, do you want to? Why or why not?

She has not and yes, she wants to start her own family and give them the love they deserve unlike her own treatment from her own parents.

Who would you turn to if you were in desperate need of help?

If she can’t help herself, she’ll either ask Ali or the one who is most suited for the job.

Do you trust anyone to protect you? Who, and why?

Not anymore. It used to be Hercules, but since she wants to steer clear of them she’s unsure if they’d be a good fit for that role. Clearly they are, but on a personal level they aren’t. Protection leads to love.

If you died or went missing, who would miss you?

Probably Holden, no doubt.

Who is the person you despise the most, and why?

Holden Kasabian. The way he has no remorse and how he wants to be powerful, how he uses her as a pawn.

Do you tend to argue with people, or avoid conflict?

Arguing in one of Megara’s specialties. She’s not actively after conflict, but to get your point across a little bit of arguing is definitely worth it. 

Do you tend to take on leadership roles in social situations?

She’s not as social as one would expect. Though she could potentially take on the leadership role if needed.

Do you like interacting with large groups of people? Why or why not?

no -- trust issues.

Do you care what others think of you?

Mostly yes, but she knows some people have their mind set on one specific image of her.

PART 6: LIKES & DISLIKES

What is/are your favorite hobbies and pastimes?

Megara is fond of going out, have a few drinks, go shopping, she also likes gambling and theater. She loves to be around her friends and likes to change the way her own story is written out for her -- and make it her own.

What is your most treasured possession?

A ring she once got from Lysander before he left. She doesn’t really cherish the ring, but it’s something that reminds her of how important self-love is, above everything else.

What is your favorite color?

Purple and teal!

What is your favorite food?

Burger and grapes. Also ice cream.

What, if anything, do you like to read?

She likes to read psychology journals and non-fiction books in general. She does like a few fictional novels, like The Hunger Games, but she rarely has time to read.

What is your idea of good entertainment (consider music, movies, art, etc.)?

A glass of good quality wine, a handful of her closest friends, shit-talking about Holden. A bit of dancing at the end of the day, maybe a movie -- preferably a drama.

Do you smoke, drink, or use drugs? If so, why? Do you want to quit?

She doesn’t smoke, but she drinks occasionally, whenever she wants to. Megara drinks, because it relaxes her and is generally something she has never stopped doing because it’s not frowned upon and is socially obligatory.

How do you spend a typical Saturday night?

If she’s with Holden, then it’s mostly helping Holden in whatever he needs and as long as she wants to -- if not she at least TRIES to protect. If she has the way off she’ll either be alone in her little apartment or out running her own little deals and causes mischief.

What makes you laugh?

Dry humor and Schadenfreude, mostly.

What, if anything, shocks or offends you?

People not appreciating her, others taking her for granted and not realizing the sacrifices she’s made -- here’s lookin’ at you, Lysander.

What would you do if you had insomnia and had to find something to do to amuse yourself?

Either play a video game, exercise or watch a documentary about history.

How do you deal with stress?

She handles stress fairly well. If one deals with Gods she sure as hell can deal with a bit of stress every now and then. She compensates the troubles with a bit more “me-time” on the next day.

Are you spontaneous, or do you always need to have a plan?

She’d rather plan ahead, but that’s not always achievable.

What are your pet peeves?

people spitting on the floor, seemingly “flawless” individuals, men in positions of great power.

PART 7: SELF IMAGES & OTHER

Describe the routine of a normal day for you. How do you feel when this routine is disrupted?

Megara wakes up at 6:30 AM, showers, puts on make up and a dress and eats breakfast. She brushes her teeth and leaves the house at around 7:30 AM to accompany Holden to wherever he wants to go. If desired she stops at a café and grabs some coffee and something to eat. The time she works each day varies greatly on what Holden has in mind, but after she’s done working she’ll cook something, clean, go grocery shopping and then get out again to further her own goals. She can survive on relatively low sleep, but on the weekends she prefers to sleep a lot longer (~10 hours). She usually doesn’t expect to have a routine. Each day is already expected to be different.

What is your greatest strength as a person?

Perseverance. Empathy.

What is your greatest weakness?

Love and pessimism,

If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be?

She’s like to be less isolated sometimes, more open-minded. Not everyone who crosses paths with her is trying to destroy her.

Are you generally introverted or extroverted?

introverted

Are you generally organized or messy?

organized

Name three things you consider yourself to be very good at, and three things you consider yourself to be very bad at.

good: acting, snarky remarks, leaving an impression bad: decipher her own emotions, underestimates others sometimes, she tends to be headstrong and therefore has a hard time accepting someone else’s opinion but her own.

Do you like yourself?

Most of the time, yes.

What goal do you most want to accomplish in your lifetime?

Be free again. Be happy

Where do you see yourself in 5 years?

Hopefully free of the agreement and somewhere warm and safe.

If you could choose, how would you want to die?

In the arms of the one she loves.

If you knew you were going to die in 24 hours, name three things you would do in the time you had left.

Try and sabotage Holden, spend all her money on helping out Al and Hercules and lastly confess her love to Hercules once again.

What is the one thing for which you would most like to be remembered after your death?

She wants to be remembered as the woman who fought against the odds and prevailed.

What three words best describe your personality?

bold, flirty, determined.

What three words would others probably use to describe you?

witty, brave, seductive.

[sabsfanfiction]

Stay

Disclaimer: If I own Bleach? I will use it to clean my entire house.

Pairing: IchiRuki

Bleach setting: The Rukia Lieutenant’s hairstyle with her Bankai (Wow, what a wonderful way to describe the whole concept)

Originally, this should be the plot of my previous fanfic “Steamy Summer Day” But I was too excited to write a smexy story, so I ended up posting the first fanfic instead of this! But Anyway, this is totally different. I promise!

59

58

57

56...

A seventeen-year-old, orange-haired substitute shinigami was counting every second in every minute to surpass the days of time on a not-so-early morning. It was still nine in the morning, doing nothing on his bed but laying down. While the freeloader was too confident in making herself at home as if she was the owner of the house.

It was Golden Week in Spring, everyone is going to be celebrating Bon Festival in honor of welcoming their dead ancestors to revisit their ancestral homes. In Ichigo’s perspective, he had been rejoicing that kind of celebration for at least 2 years already. Since he considered Rukia as his ancestor-due to the fact that she is a hundred times older than him, and she is technically dead!

Spring is such a beautiful season, flowers and trees blooming over the bright and shiny sky, animals stirring from hibernation, and a perfect humid weather to go to Shrines and other places. Some people have not yet embraced the season. Spring can also be very dangerous for people who have allergies and might have caught sickness from the humid sensitivity spreading throughout the air.

But for Ichigo, it was the weather he asked for. And Golden Week just started. His whole family was in Hokkaido to visit their grandparents, Ichigo was left in charge to watch over the house for them because one thing’s for sure, he would never put up his trust to this Shinigami-freeloader to guard his house, knowing that she is too clumsy for her own good.

Averting his eyes at her, as he sat up. Looking up at the time of his alarm clock, it was still 9:45. “It’s Golden Week, right?” Asked Ichigo to his friend who was doing “her homework” on his study table. She wasn’t even doing anything, she just stays here, eats, shows off her crappy artistic skills, and lectures him non-stop for being forgetful to bring Kon when there are hollows coming to appear everywhere. Too bad, Kon couldn’t be seen anywhere too, he was probably at Urahara’s or he was girl-hunting somewhere that Ichigo less care about it. Let alone, the perverted plushie to enjoy his Golden Week,

“IT’S DONE!”

Okay, did she just ignored him? “Oi! It’s Golden Week, shouldn’t you be taking a break for a while? And just go to Soul Society already and rest!”

“Well, I know it is Golden Week, and no way in hell, I am taking a break! Don’t you know how much trouble you had caused me? When hollows are looming around, and you would expect me to take my ass a break? And go back to Soul Society?” 

“Geez, Rukia, you have no right to look out for my ass forever, you know. I am strong, and Ishida and the others are here as well!” Nagged Ichigo.

Rukia was about to blow another fuse but decided to ignore him. Lifting her frame up, scaring Ichigo a little bit, as if he was expecting a punch or a kick from her. Fortunately, he did not get any from it, he was relieved. One thing he disliked about her was her punch even though she had a small fist such Ichigo would think Rukia might be thinking that everyone is going to be intimidated by her small fingers.

Stupid midget!

“Ichigo.”

“W-What? Want a fight?!”

“Huh--what the hell is wrong with you? Anyway, I thought you were going to escort Inoue today for tonight’s barbeque party at Ishida’s place?”

With that, Ichigo just froze on his butt. He was just counting a while ago to finally get his ass out from his bed, but a certain midget was here that he needed to watch if ever she does something stupid in his room--again. A worth mentioning but such an ill to hear, Rukia drew chappies inside his closet. He didn’t have time to clean it, and there is only one person who can actually fit perfectly inside his closet and that is HER! Due to her lazy ass, she wouldn’t even clean it.

“Shit! Why didn’t you remind me!” Standing up from his bed to get his keys and phone.

“Fool, I just did!”

Sighing determinedly, before he walks out from his room. “Rukia, I swear to God! Don’t leave the house without my consent! And don’t do anything stupid! I’m REALLY counting on you!” He was still concerned, knowing Rukia’s attitude-of-doesn’t know how to obey.

“Ohhh~ First of all, you terribly wanted me to go back in Soul Society, and second of all, you swore to me not to leave the house? Ichigo, which is it? Make up your mind, at least~” First things first, she is goddamned annoying, and two, she knows how to use that mouth---that Kuchiki Rukia mouth.

“Alright! You Miss-midget-purpled-eyed-icey monster! First of all, if you leave the house, this isn’t even your house, show some decency and respect. And Second of all, you can go back to Soul Society as much as you wanted, and I told you, you do not have to look out for my ass forever!” Huffed Ichigo, like he was a bull.

Icey monster? The petite shinigami sighed in an exasperated way, it may be fun dealing with his temper, but sometimes he gets on her nerves at the best of times. “Anyway, I’m also going out.”

“What--why?”

“Ichigo, I already told you my consent, did I?” She turned her head, giving him a look rather cold.

What the hell is she making that cold look for!? Oh, he wished that he could destroy that mask on her face.

“Besides, if you really--” She stopped right there.

“If I really what?!”

Rukia ignored rather professionally. “You’re late with your date~”

“Shit! and it is not a date!” Ichigo hissed, running downstairs from the second floor. He still needed to meet up with Orihime because she was the one collecting the money funded by their friends, and Ichigo volunteered to accompany her to buy all the meats and drinks for the party since he knew it is going to be very heavy to carry all the plastics. They have invited a lot of friends, even from his friends in Soul Society and will be going to be celebrated at Ishida’s place.

Thought, he thought to himself for why he was a little bit brute in front of Rukia. Though, she was really annoying back there. And what the hell was she going to say next back there? If I really what? 

Stupid midget!

Rukia was walking in the park, instead of cursing about his attitude. She was trying to figure out what was his problem and TRYING TO understand his temper. It must be his hair that caused radiation and absorbs the heat in his head. That must be it. 

As much hypothesis she makes, they were all stupid.

Suddenly, her soul phone signals in low light-- the hollow came towards her, but she swiftly dodges its attempts.

SHIT! I forgot chappy.

She chanted Hadō #31. Shakkahō to shoot all the numerous hollows showing up in sight at the park. If only she had brought Chappy with her, she was too reckless for forgetting something important. Which made her a total hypocrite for keeping on lecturing Ichigo nonstop and she was there sinking in all the words she said to Ichigo.

Damn, I feel awful. 

It was the perfect moment of time that someone from the Soul Society came to help her clean up the mess around. With only just a swift of its Shikai to wipe out all these hollows. At least, she didn’t get herself injured. Is it really okay to say, “at least”?

“Kuchiki! Are you hurt?”

“I’m sorry, Hitsugaya-taichou, I forgot to bring my soul pill.”

He sheathed his sword at this back. “You should never do such reckless things again? Are we clear?”

“Y-Yes, sorry.” She even managed to say that.

“What are you doing here, all by yourself?” Asked Toshiro, walking up inch closer to her.

“Well--” Wait, what was she doing here? She told Ichigo that she is going out as well, but what was her purpose of walking around like a complete human in disguise Shinigami. She remembered now! Walking around the park and kill off some hollows were her reasons, but she forgot Chappy. And It is not worth explaining to the Captain.

“Kill off some hollows--” She couldn’t help it.

He sighed lowly. “I could see that, and you forgot your soul pill.”

“Yeah--sorry again, Hitsugaya-taichou, but what are you doing here? Karin is in Hokkaido---”

“I did not ask to see Kurosaki here, but I am expecting to see you.”

So, it’s not Karin? “Oh, yes-- You guys were invited to the barbeque party?”

He just sighed, she kept on blabbering as he scooped up her frame like a bride, as he uses Shunpo to go to Ichigo’s place. “Enough talking already, you were the one who kept our gigai’s right?” 

“Hey, put me down! I can walk by myself!” As much as she hated being carried around, she would dare everyone to put her down!

“Just pipe down, we’re almost there.” His calm expression never fades. 

Captain Hitsugaya was right, using Shunpo was easier than walking. They arrived in seconds at the roof by Ichigo’s window as Toshiro puts Rukia down carefully and they went into Ichigo’s room by the window whom Ichigo carelessly unlocked it. 

“Just relax a little bit, Hitsugaya-taichou, your gigai will be prepared in a few minutes.”

What do you mean few minutes? I don’t have time for this! As much he wanted to scream, but he wouldn’t. He doesn’t have time to scream either. And why the hell is she opening the closet? Don’t tell me--

He was just standing there, watching her standing up on a chair on her tippy toes to grab something on the highest shelf. He couldn’t help but he managed to laugh lightly. She will fall, I bet that.

“Eh? Is there something funny Hitsugaya-taichou?” Asked Rukia without looking at him wondering what amusement he found in this boring, dirty room.

Keeping his cool and monotonous expression. “Don’t mind, where the hell did you hide our gigai--

“Found it---”

 “And there is nothing in there, get down here, you might---Kuchiki.” Seeing her holding a small cube when she wobbled and loses her balance on her toes, running up to her before she lands on the floor and a puff of pink smoke spluttered over the room.

Not a few moments ago, Ichigo bid farewell to Orihime in front of Ishida’s house. Arriving to put all meat on their sticks to fry it by the evening and cool all the drinks in the fridge. It was already twelve and his stomach was grumbling, he thought of grabbing a lunch but it seemed Rukia needed one as well. He was about to call her phone when he was headlock by this dubious red head friend.

“GET OFF ME RENJI!” Roared Ichigo.

“Hey~ Calm down, we came in peace. By the way, we came to see you and Rukia to get our gigai.” Grinned Renji.

“Kurosaki, have you seen Taichou around?” Asked Matsumoto.

“Let’s go already! Where is Rukia-chan?” Ikkaku looked around, even behind Ichigo as if she was hiding behind him.

“I also forgot my mirror at your house, it has been decades since I left it in there,” Yumichika muttered.

Ichigo still had his temper. “WHAT IS ALL OF THIS?! Rukia? Keeping all your gigai’s? I never heard it from her? And the hell! I never saw that Captain Midget! Rukia must be somewhere else, she said she had errands to do, and THAT WAS YOUR UGLY MIRROR?! FROM THIS WHOLE TIME? THAT WAS YOURS? I’m sorry, but Yuzu threw it away for me.”

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN UGLY MIRROR?! THE ONLY UGLY HERE IS YOU!” Flamed Yumichika.

“Eh! You didn’t see Taichou, why!?”

“What do you mean? You don’t know where she is!” Ikkaku’s face was so close to him.

“Of course, fool! Urahara told us, he didn’t keep our gigai but Rukia have them.” A dry look from Renji.

“ALRIGHT! ALRIGHT! JUST FOLLOW ME!” Rubbing his temples to subside his frustrations and all the shoutings, “I think Rukia will be there from now, when she’s hungry, I usually leave some snacks in her closet, so she’ll be there.”

Ichigo, did you seriously think that Rukia is like a bunny? They just thought mindlessly while following Ichigo towards his house.

Stupid midget! I hope you’re not doing anything stupid again!

Meanwhile, the puff of smoke cleared the area, as they coughed in unison. And not in Rukia’s wildest dreams to be pinned down against the floor. Not that she keeps on dreaming about someone who will do it for her. She just put a blank look on his face, as if she was clearly not affected how close they were. With a flustered Captain of the Tenth Division: Toshiro Hitsugaya usually gets embarrassed to be called a hentai or sexually harassing his subordinate. 

Everything was an accident. He didn’t mean any of this but surprised to see how unaffected the younger Kuchiki was. Byakuya must have held her to wear that kind of emotion no matter what. He

When they felt five spiritual pressure raising to the room, they must have felt two spiritual pressure inside the room and came to see the position wherein Toshiro pinning Rukia against the floor. Toshiro didn’t know, but his heart just leaped out.

“EHH!!! TAICHOU WHAT ARE YOU DOING?! SEXUALLY HARASSING CAPTAIN KUCHIKI’S LITTLE SISTER!?” Matsumoto squealed.

“I did not know that Captain can be a little aggressive, be careful Rukia-chan.” Smirked Ikkaku.

“What a disturbing sight~ Captain Kuchiki will come after you, taicho. Goodluck..”

“THAT’S NOT IT! THIS IS JUST A FUCKING ACCIDENT!” A flustered white-haired Captain whose face challenged the color of Renji’s hair color. As he moved away from Rukia, still on the floor, but keeping up a surprised look on his face.

“R-Rukia! Are you okay, did he do something stupid to you?! Oi Shorty! What the hell just happened!” Renji glared venomously, protecting Rukia in his arms.

“I-I told y-you. N-Nothing really happened, s-say something, K-Kuchiki!”

Sighing in annoyance. “He’s right, it was just an accident. And what do you mean by happened?” She vaguely asked, pushing Renji’s face away from her.

She’s still so dense. They thought.

“THAT WAS NOT THE RIGHT REACTION YOU GOT THERE STUPID!” Finally, Ichigo spoke through his lungs, pointing an accusing finger towards Rukia.

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN! IF IT WAS AN ACCIDENT! IT IS AN ACCIDENT! WHAT’S THE BIG DEAL! AND WHAT DO YOU EXPECT YOU WANT ME TO REACT HUH, SMART GUY!”

“Y-Y-Y-You---”

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN Y-Y-Y-You?!” The way she imitated was too darn amusing.

“YOU COULD’VE PUNCH OR KICK HIM! LIKE FOR SELF-DEFENSE! WHAT IF ANOTHER GUY WOULD DO IT TO YOU!? AND SAYING THINGS LIKE, IT IS JUST AN ACCIDENT IS JUST WRONG!”

Both of them completely lost it, they have forgotten that they weren’t alone in the room.

“FIRST OF ALL, OF COURSE, I WOULD KICK OR PUNCH SOMEONE FOR DOING AN ATTEMPTED ACTION! SECOND OF ALL, HITSUGAYA-TAICHOU SAVED ME FROM FALLING OFF FROM THE FLOOR THAT WAS WHY WE ENDED UP IN SUCH A DELUSIONAL POSITION! THIRD OF ALL, IT WAS AN ACCIDENT! AND FOURTH OF ALL, YOU’RE COMPLETELY ACTING LIKE AN ASSHOLE TODAY! WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU! YOU’VE BEEN LIKE THAT SINCE MORNING, I AM SICK OF IT!”

“IF YOU ARE REALLY SO SICK OF IT? WHY DON’T YOU JUST LEAVE THIS HOUSE THIS INSTANT! AND JUST GO TO SOUL SOCIETY WHERE YOU REALLY BELONG! I AM ALSO SICK OF YOU LECTURING ME AROUND AS IF I AM A TOOL OF YOUR FRUSTRATIONS! AND YOU KNOW WHAT? YOU’RE SO GODDAMN ANNOYING THAT YOU NEVER LEARNED HOW TO KEEP YOUR MOUTH SHUT! AND STOP IT ALREADY! YOU ARE NOT MY MOTHER, ALWAYS LOOKING OUT FOR ME AND ALL!”

The room became silent, neither of the Shinigami’s wanted to interfere, they just wanted their gigai’s back but they ended up seeing a real verbal fight of a lifetime between two star-crossed idiots. 

Ichigo paused. As he realized something was off. Then, he saw Rukia’s expression, he felt a pang in his heart of the words he said to her.

“R-Rukia-- that’s not---”

“Save it!” roared Rukia, as she walked up to the others and gave them the cube. Without saying a word to them,

“W-Wait--” Ichigo just followed her all the way to the door, grabbing her by the arm.

Rukia sighed, as she looked at him with a forceful smile. “I guess that I should go back to Soul Society if that’s what you really want?”

“N-No-- I mean-- That’s--”

“Bye...”

And with that as soon as Rukia left Ichigo’s room. The room gave an uneasy and awkward air that none of them ever dared to speak a word. Just like the other Shinigami’s did not know whether or not they should probably escape from this kind of tension, while Ichigo was frozen in his feet.

I guess that I should go back to Soul Society if that’s what you really want?

“I-Ichigo?” asked Renji, clearing up his throat.

“WHAT?! IF SHE WANTS TO GO, THEN LET HER BE!” huffed Ichigo as he left them inside his room. He was just getting hungry a while ago, but circumstances always come in the wrong way.

Ugh! I cannot believe my legs on where it would take me? 

Rukia was sitting on the staircase by the lake, where Ichigo found her and took her out on an ice skating session with their other friends at school. She just loved the peaceful and comforting oxygen that she needed some of it to breathe and suppress all of her frustrations. 

Just by thinking about the most awaited verbal fight with Ichigo was extremely infuriating. Just who the hell did he think he was? Such an ungrateful brat!

She stood up, not knowing why her feet was controlling her--- of going back? No way in hell.

I guess that I should go back to Soul Society if that’s what you really want?

It kept on repeating in his mind of what Rukia said to him. Alright, he admitted it. It was his fault, he crossed the line, and he shouldn’t have said anything to make things worst.

Now that Rukia was mad at him and she wanted to go back to Soul Society---

Was a bad idea.

He really didn’t want to let her go... Though, he wanted her to stay. Even without her presence, the speed of the world will keep on revolving, but when he is with Rukia he just feels the ascertainment of not letting her go.

She changed his world, his destiny, and she was everything who was the one who changed his whole life. Even saved his family. He owes her one. And he was lucky enough to have someone to protect that he would give in return.

It was all Rukia’s doing, sacrificed her life to break all the laws in Seireitei just to save him because Rukia’s sense of justice is different than anybody else in his world. 

She’s one weird Shinigami, indeed.

Rukia and Ichigo saw each other at the very same place by the lake. 

“Awe, you ran all the way over here to beg for forgiveness?” Rukia even joked about it, and she never fails to be on his nerves.

“Yeah... Got a problem with that!” sighed Ichigo, as he looked at her as if he was a child begging for penance. “I’m sorry, the truth is. Why I was mad at you because you kept on talking about Byakuya and I felt that you wanted to go back in Soul Society---and...”

“And?”

“Please stay.”

The petite shinigami just smiled. “Idiot! You scared me, and you knew that I am not obliged to be stationed in the living world to the extent of time, but---”

“I guess I’ll stay here longer.” She smiled at him.

“Friends?” Ichigo asked for her hand.

She just looked at him then to his hand, extending towards her. “No...best friends.” She took it.

They just laughed at each other, as they let go.

“Let’s go have some lunch,” Ichigo said as they started walking up to their favorite fast food stall.

“Your treat, okay?”

“S-Sure---Wait no way in hell!”

“HUH, IF YOU ARE ASKING FOR A LUNCH WITH ME. YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO SAY ITS YOUR TREAT!”

“HUH?! NO WAY I AM PAYING FOR YOUR FOOD, MIDGET!”

“ASSHOLE! YOU HAVE NO CLASS AT ALL! YOU SHOULD BE MORE LIKE BYAKUYA-NIISAMA.”

“DON’T JUST COMPARE ME WITH THAT ARROGANT BASTARD, BITCH!”

And another round of argument of two idiotic friends that disturbed every neighborhood they passed by has started all over and over again.

THE END.

Author’s Note: Long Live, IchiRuki! Bow

[justlookfrightened]

NHL!Jack

Jack and Bitty finally got together, in the middle of Jack’s playoffs and Bitty's decision to move to Houston. Now what?

Continuation of NHL!Bitty from Jack's POV. Rating may change in later chapters. Not beta'd, so let me know about errors that need to be corrected! 

Also on AO3   or Part 2  Part 3  Part 4  Part 5   Part 6    Part 7

The first thing Jack was aware of was the pounding.

It wasn’t very near, but not far enough to be outside his condo either.

The next thing he became aware of was that this wasn’t his condo.

The light was all wrong, for one, and there was a crack across the ceiling and the walls were a dingy blue.

The bed was too lumpy and far too narrow -- and far too occupied. The man wedged in next to Jack was curled on his side, his firm, round backside pressed against Jack’s hip.

Jack very much wanted to investigate that, but a voice was added to the pounding.

“Bitty! Yo, Bits!”

Bitty. Eric Bittle, the man currently squirming his way to consciousness, his bottom rubbing delightfully against Jack.

More pounding.

“I know you haven’t gone back to Georgia yet!”

Bitty groaned.

“Shitty,” he said.

“What?” Jack said.

More pounding. More yelling.

“I see that monstrosity you call a truck! Don’t make me climb up and come in through the reading room!”

Now Bitty was up and out of bed. He crossed the floor in two steps and threw the window open.

“Shitty!” Bitty yelled. “Some people are sleeping! Give me a minute. I’ll be right down.”

Bitty slammed the window closed and turned back around. Jack had enjoyed the glimpse of Bitty leaning out the window, dressed in nothing but red form-fitting boxer briefs. The view from the front was equally appealing, but it didn’t sound like Jack was going to have the opportunity to do any more than look.

“I’m sorry,” Bitty said. “That’s my friend Shitty. I texted him last night to let him know I was in town. I didn’t expect him to show up at --” Bitty picked up his phone and looked at it “ -- 10:30 in the morning.”

10:30. Jack was due at the practice facility at noon, and he hadn’t even been home to change.

“Crisse. I have to get going,” Jack said.

“Not without breakfast,” Bitty said. “Please?”

“But your friend. Shitty? Really?”

“Really,” Bitty said. “He might be loud and obnoxious, but there’s no one I trust more. I mean, if we’re going to -- If you wanted to --”

Bitty stopped, biting his lip, not quite looking at Jack.

Jack couldn’t leave him uncertain.

“I meant everything I said last night. Of course I want to,” Jack said, pushing the sheet back and swinging his feet to the floor. “Just, maybe the best way to meet your friends isn’t in my underwear?”

Bitty giggled, and that was a sound Jack could definitely get used to.

“If there’s anyone you could meet in your underwear, it’s Shitty,” Bitty said, tugging a T-shirt over his head and pulling on shorts while he said it. “But if you want to shower, you can use the bathroom in there.”

Bitty opened a door, revealing a small bathroom that had a door at the other end, presumably leading to another bedroom.

“There should be a new toothbrush in the second drawer,” Bitty said. “And the shampoo and stuff is mine, so feel free to use whatever you need. I’ll get Shitty to take me to the Murder Stop ‘n’ Shop to get stuff for breakfast. No food allergies?”

“No,” Jack said. “My nutrition plan --”

“Calls for lots of protein, unrefined carbs and healthy fats,” Bitty said. “I know. That’s why I’m not just making pancakes. We’ll be back in 15 minutes and breakfast will be ready in 45. Does that work for you?”

“Uh, sure,” Jack said.

Bitty might be small, might be a rookie, but he was going to be a force to be reckoned with, Jack thought.

He was still grinning as he stripped off his own boxer briefs and stepped under the shower spray.

****************************************

Music was coming from the kitchen when Jack descended the stairs 15 minutes later, wearing the trousers from his suit and the shirt unbuttoned at the collar. He’d washed with Bitty’s things, and he could smell the fresh citrus scent that clung to his skin and hair. It smelled almost like Bitty, but not quite.

He came around the corner to see Bitty, facing away from him, stirring something in a pan on the stove. Onion, by the aroma, and probably peppers. Bitty was wearing the same shorts he pulled on upstairs -- blue, and barely long enough to cover his underwear. His feet were in sneakers, apparently without socks, and it looked like his legs went on for days in between.

His hips swung a bit to the music as he pulled a slice of pepper -- yes, Jack was right -- from the pan to test it for doneness and asked, “So what are you going to do after graduation? You and Lardo have plans?”

That’s when Jack noticed the man sitting at the table -- sitting in the same chair Jack sat in last night when Bitty came and sat on his lap and kissed him. The man had clearly noticed him -- he was watching him watch Bitty with something like amusement.

Shitty -- this had to be Shitty, with shaggy hair and a droopy mustache and a Wonder Woman crop top -- answered Bitty’s question instead of giving Jack away. “I’d go to the beach for a while to study, but it’s summer, so my whole family will be in and out. I think maybe we’ll take some time to find a new place, far from Harvard, that can be our apartment, and I’ll hole myself up there. The bar exam’s at the end of July, but once I take it, I can start work full-time.”

He paused and looked at Jack, which drew Bitty’s eyes to him as well.

“Morning, Bitty,” Jack said. “It smells great in here.”

To Shitty, he extended a hand and said, “I’m Jack.”

Shitty stood to shake hands and said, “Shitty Knight, former resident of this decrepit house and soon-to-be lawyer working in the areas of employment law, diversity and discrimination and educational opportunity.”

“That sounds like a lot to focus on,” Jack said.

Shitty shrugged. “The organization I hired on with works in all those areas. I’m sure I’ll end up working more in one than the others.”

“Shitty was a junior when I was a freshman,” Bitty said. “He was the first real person I ever came out to.”

“Real person?” Jack asked.

“I used to have an internet vlog,” Bitty said. “I told people there, but it didn’t really count because I didn’t know them and I couldn’t see them. It was more like talking to myself.”

Jack poured himself coffee from the pot, refilling Shitty’s mug for good measure, before sitting down and watching Bitty drop four slices of whole-grain bread in the toaster and pour what looked like mostly egg whites into the pan with the vegetables.

“It’s not very fancy,” Bitty said. “But I know you’re on a schedule.”

Shitty looked at Jack and said, “Should I pretend I don’t know who you are and ask what you do and how you know Bitty, or can we dispense with that?”

“Bitty said he trusted you, so let’s just assume you know who I am,” Jack said.

“Coolio,” Shitty said. “Then I can tell you what a sweet goal that was last night before I ask your intentions.”

Jack stiffened, and Shitty laughed and said, “Not really. Bits here is a grown man, as he never fails to remind me, and makes his own decisions. But you should know that he also has a lot of friends who care deeply about him, and would not take it kindly if his hockey idol screwed with him.”

“Shitty!” Bitty looked mortified.

“Relax, Bits, I didn’t mean it like that,” Shitty said. “You two are welcome to screw each other in as many ways as you like, as long as both of you consent and you’re careful to be safe.”

Bitty apparently decided the best way to deal with his friend was to ignore him.

“I apologize for Shitty,” Bitty said. “He means well, but he really should shut up.”

“Come on, Bits, I’ve known you for going on six years, and this is the first person I’ve been introduced to at the breakfast table,” Shitty said. “This is clearly important to you.”

“It’s not like that,” Bitty protested. “Jack came to talk to me after the game last night, and it got late so he stayed. That’s all.”

“Right,” Shitty said. “Did he sleep in the same bed? Because I happen to know there are four bedrooms up there and no one else is here.”

“It’s fine,” Jack told Bitty. “It’s good your friends care about you. I don’t have any intention of toying with your affection. But hockey idol? Really?”

Bitty was practically scarlet.

“Shitty, bless your heart, and butt out,” he said. “Jack, honey, I’m in this for real, too. But I don’t want to hear any more more about that.”

“Ouch,” Shitty said. “Fine. If the ‘bless your hearts’ are coming out, I’ll shut up now.”

**************************************

Jack was on the road by 11:30, meaning there was no way he’d make it to the training rink at noon. Good thing team lunch was first, followed by a 12:30 p.m. meeting. He wouldn’t be hungry anyway, and there was a little more leeway with being late..

The harder thing to figure out was what to do about his clothes. Walking into lunch in yesterday’s suit would be like trying to sneak into his parents’ house at 7:30 a.m. when was 17. He tried it once; it hadn’t gone well.

He did have a gym bag in the car. He could stop somewhere on the road and switch to workout gear. That would still be unusual for him -- he usually wore a higher class of track pants to team meals. But it wouldn’t scream “I haven’t been home” like wearing his suit.

Maybe he should have been better prepared when he drove to Samwell. He hadn’t even known where Bitty was, for sure. Marty said the boys were at some kind of hockey house at Samwell. How hard could it be to find it?

In the end, not very. He’d stopped at a gas station in the town of Samwell and said he was looking for a house where all the hockey players lived. The cashier gave him a blank look, but another customer who was buying beef jerky and Fiji water interrupted.

“It’s not a hockey house,” he said. “It’s the hockey Haus.”

Somehow it sounded different when he said it.

“Go about a half mile up this street, make a right then a left on Jason Street,” the man continued. “You’ll see it on your left. And hey, tell ‘em Johnson said ‘Fuck the lax bros.’”

Jack followed the directions (except the part about saying “Fuck the lax bros”); he knew the house by the crossed hockey sticks mounted above the porch.

He’d thought he prepared himself. He’d gone over the pros and cons of outing himself to Bitty a hundred times, and Marty agreed that it wouldn’t be too big a risk. Someone who chose to go to Samwell was unlikely to be homophobic, at the very least. And there was something in the way Bitty looked at him … and the way Marty and Pops both seemed to want to encourage this. Jack had been pretty sure he had a chance with Bitty.

But he’d been so focused on that that it never occurred to him to think about what would happen next. Was he just going to tell Bitty he had feelings for him and turn around and drive away?

And what if the morning had gone differently? Jack had been too tired last night for anything more than some lazy, long kisses after they went to bed, but what if Shitty hadn’t been banging on the front door when he woke up? Jack certainly hadn’t come prepared for any kind of sexual encounter. Would Bitty have condoms at least?

Next time, Jack told himself, he’d be better prepared.

He pulled into a BP and bought a Gatorade and protein bar before asking where the bathroom was. When he emerged in form-fitting shorts and Under Armor T-shirt, he made his way to the car quickly, not looking up to see if people were watching.

It wasn’t as easy to avoid attention when he got to the Falcs’ facility. He walked into the dining area, grabbing some chicken fajitas before sitting down so he would have something in front of him.

“Zimmboni, you change before lunch?” Tater said. “Why? We change before workout.”

“Maybe he didn’t have anything else to put on,” Thirdy said.

“Jack always did keep workout clothes in his car,” Marty said.

“Why would he need to change into clothes from his car?” Tater said.

“Jack’s wearing his emergency clothes?” Snowy asked. “I always thought he just had those in case there was a pressing need to exercise.”

“Maybe he had another pressing need,” Marty said.

Jack sat stoic through it all, taking a bit of his fajita and chewing it thoroughly.

Finally, he said, “I think we all have the same need,” he said. “We need to win this next game and get home ice back. You all ready?”

[fox-bright]

Let me talk about doctors for a minute.

I’m seeing some “doctors think more logically than you do” and “doctors don’t make judgments based on their emotions” and “you should 100% trust your doctor” stuff going around right now, and it kind of scares the shit out of me.

Absolutely you should be able to trust your doctor.  Absolutely you should hope that they’re looking at you as dispassionately as possible when considering your privileges, and as mercifully as possible when considering your needs. And if you get four doctors telling you the same thing, probably you should listen to them.  If you’re told you need PT, if you’re told you should consider the merits of this medication or that one, you should take it into consideration. You should be able to work with your doctor toward your best health outcome, regardless of if you like them very much.

But doctors are people.  And people are capable of all sorts of bullshit.  People get tired.  People mix things up. People are prisoners of their prejudices, unless they are constantly fighting them.  And to fight them they’d have to a)recognize them and b)realize that they’re wrong things to believe, and frankly most people are just not capable of that on any constant basis.

And even if we’re not talking about the forcible sterilization of Native American women and of women in prison, even if we’re not talking about the Tuskegee Syphilis Experiment, even if we’re not talking about all the ways that doctors in the US have manipulated and abused the communities they were supposed to be serving, just on an individual level falling to the belief that a)your doctor knows everything and b) your doctor really, really cares about you?  That can be very dangerous.

So let me tell you a little story.

My mother and her twin sister were born in Anaheim, CA, in 1960.  They were born with what today would be recognized as acute asthma, and they spent their first twenty years very, very sick a great deal of the time.  Constantly in and out of the hospital.  Both their parents were smokers (it was the Sixties! The years of asthma cigarettes were barely past, and lots of people still believed in ‘smoking for your health’) and it was California before the unleaded fuel laws, before pollution regulations of any sort.  My mother and her twin both nearly died on many occasions, their lungs slamming shut like books.

So my grandma, she took them to a lot of doctors.  But even before the days of big insurance, that wasn’t cheap, and the family was poor. So when after a decade or so she found a doctor with a big smile, a doctor who was locally renowned for the survival rates of his asthma patients, a doctor who obviously really, really knew what he was doing, that’s the one she stuck with.

And she didn’t much question him, when he said that my mother’s asthma and my aunt’s asthma were different kinds, and that they needed to each take a different kind of medicine, and that Grandma needed to be very, very careful not to mix them up.

You see...Mom and my auntie, they were identical twins.  That is, genetic clones.  Exactly the same in so very many ways.

And this was before ethics boards, this was before medicine and research had any expectation of or regulation for informed consent.  The doctor told you what to do, and you did it, and that was that.

And my mother, and my mother’s twin, were only half-white.

Do you see where this is going?

This wasn’t a hundred years ago.  This was by this point the mid-Seventies. Bell-bottoms and disco, Bowie was Ziggy Stardust and the Thin White Duke, the first series of Star Trek had already been off the air for several years. This was only a minute ago, you guys.  When you walk into a vintage store, you see clothing that’s older than what this doctor did to my family.

You’ve probably been through middle school science.  You know that when doing an experiment you need your control group--the one that doesn’t change--and your experimental, right? The one that gets some new condition or stressor?

And the doctor flipped a coin, or chose some other way at random, and he gave my mother the control. That is, Mom lucked out and got the medicine that was already known to him to work pretty well.

And my auntie, my doomed, beautiful auntie, was made into an experiment.

When my mother describes those years, she says that her sister “looked like a burn victim.”  Auntie’s skin sloughed off in sheets.  She got cataracts, her hair fell out in chunks, she couldn’t be out in the sunlight.  She developed all sorts of interesting food allergies (who the fuck is allergic to red #40, to the point of anaphylaxis?), her bone density suffered, and basically if you want to imagine a nasty side-effect there’s a fair chance she had it.

And the doctor? He wrote a fucking paper.  Maybe several. And he never told Grandma what he was doing.  And he never told his test subjects what he was doing.  And he was a pioneer, he saved lives, he pushed the knowledge of asthma forward by a lot, I’m sure. But he didn’t ask. He didn’t see any reason to. Mom and my Auntie were half Filipino.  White, Protestant Grandma dared to marry a Filipino-American man, and a Catholic besides!  She couldn’t be trusted with any serious decision.

And so my aunt suffered all sorts of unpleasant repercussions of that treatment for the rest of her life, until she died at a mere 52 years old.

What I am saying is, doctors are people. That is all they are.  People with their prejudices and their greed, people with their soft hearts and their emotional exhaustion.  They’re not somehow special or more or better than anyone else is. They’re just people who have been to a bit more schooling than the average Jane.  You want to tell me that architects are somehow more logical in their life decisions than someone else?  That lawyers are less likely to be prejudiced? That entomologists are more trustworthy than, say, artists, if we’re talking about anything other than bugs?

I’ve known doctors who were excellent human beings. But that wasn’t because they were doctors, it was a sideline to that fact.  Some people certainly become doctors because they have good hearts.  But let’s be honest--most of them do it for the money.  And while there’s nothing wrong with choosing a career for the lifestyle it’s going to provide you, doing so doesn’t make you a better person.

They’re just PEOPLE. And people have so very, very many flaws.

[golbatgender]

It's very difficult to actually harass someone on AO3.

The primary way to contact a creator on AO3 is via work comments. By default, anon is on and comments are automatically posted; however, this is very easy to change and these options are automatically offered in the work posting form. In fact, it is possible to mark a work as only visible to logged in users, or to orphan it or add it to an anonymous collection (thereby hiding authorship). (For readers concerned about being monitored by others, it is also possible to make private bookmarks not listed when someone else clicks on your bookmarks.)

It is also possible to link someone's profile, but they will probably never see it. If the link results in comment harassment, they can respond as described above. Users can mark disparaging works as "inspired by" a work by someone they are trying to harass, but this is fairly rare and requires a great deal of effort. The affected user can also submit an abuse report, and AO3 is pretty good at actually dealing with them (unlike tumblr). Unless it's an actual parody and not just a polemic posted as a work, it will probably be taken down.

And you can't get around this. Not easily. If an author does not want interaction, it is very hard to continue it. You'd have to create an entire sockpuppet account, and that's bannable and not very easy to do. (And then it's very easy for your target to shut you down again.) I've been harassed, in comments and via parody fic. Turning off anonymous comments and enabling moderation stopped it. I, the target, had absolute control of the situation, and it was quite clear to my attackers that I had not only denied them consent to say these things to me but also that they could not brute force their way around those boundaries. There was only one parody fic, and I have never bothered to report it because the harassment had largely stopped on AO3 and because it might look like a normal parody without context. But I still felt like that was an option, because AO3 has a history of actually taking abuse reports seriously.

In fact, if other sites took abuse and boundaries as seriously as AO3 does, the harassment would not have gone there in the first place. It only happened because someone whom I'd blocked kept screenshotting my blog, even after I'd set it as only viewable to logged in users. (And he had to use chrome mobile to get the screenshots, because the app makes it so blocked users can't see real-time posts—though if the blog is still searchable, a search will still show posts. Eventually I disabled the logged in users restriction, because it wasn't enough to stop this guy and because loading in the dash takes forever in a browser.)

I want to make it abundantly clear that most of what relatively little harassment can and does happen on AO3 is only possible due to less-moderated social media. Tumblr refuses to ban the man who encouraged his followers, including underage users, to start a flamewar on an explicitly sexual work with no relation to his political vendetta against me. Who repeatedly exhorts his followers to kill me by name; to kill other named users; to kill all members of a sexual minority and anyone who dares support them. Who encourages and spreads slander of these people as sexual predators. Who owns multiple sockpuppets created for the sole purpose of harassing people who have already blocked him. Who has been reported numerous times by numerous people. Tumblr does not care about harassment and has no consequences. You get a form email and no help. The report option is not even available within the mobile app. As shitty as its current block system is, it didn't even have that before 2015 (or maybe late 2014?), and I suspect they were faced with a lawsuit in order to get that much. AO3 would have banned him ages ago, if he were even able to retain the motivation to be such a horrible person in the feedback-starved environment of AO3 comments. You don't get praise for being mean to people there, even if the target is actually a bad person. If it's not your work, you've already lost the argument, and people will find it boring or not read the comments on the fiction at all.

AO3 itself? Very difficult to harass anyone on there, beyond the level of annoyance they're willing to put up with (which can admittedly be a lot, among those of us who write strange things and understand that many people will not want to admit liking them under their own account names), without going off-site. If fandom were confined to AO3 and email, maybe even also a lightly moderated set of forums and a traditional blogging site, harassment would be much less of a problem. Instead, we're expected to use more recent forms of social media that are structurally predicated on the goal of viral content. Great for cat pictures; bad for discussion or accountability or the ability of users to control what happens to their own content, and with an inherent power differential between popular users and less-known users, since the former essentially control all information (especially in the presence of a moderation staff that only cares about dmca violations).

(I suspect that viral media is the trend of this decade, and that by the middle of the next, something else will replace it. I'm not sure what.)

But yes, that's what harassment is, on AO3 and elsewhere. And then people have the audacity to act like seeing mentions of disturbing things in tags is harassment?

Lolno. First off, if it's not aimed at a specific person or demographic group, it's not harassment. (And if it's not aimed at you or a group you are part of, you are not the victim of that harassment, just a concerned citizen.) Second, the warnings are there so you don't stumble into graphic descriptions of the thing without warning. It would be…extremely unusual for someone to be triggered by the word "rape" but not by a graphic or explicit description of such, or a detailed discussion of, but without the word. Third, the tagging promotes consistency so users can better avoid exposure to it, and browser extensions to substitute one word for another exist.

Finally, it is ridiculously entitled to think that everywhere on the internet has the responsibility to be safe for you, personally. That is like accusing grocery stores of attempted murder against people with allergies because they sell shrimp or peanut butter. You need to take measures to keep yourself safe, not expect people to do things that would often be removing more general safety features to keep you safe, especially if they don't even know you exist.

And like…it's the internet. You will see porn you did not ask for and do not like. The appropriate response is to be mildly annoyed and hit the appropriate buttons to make it stop.

Moral outrage is not the appropriate response, and it isn't the same as harassment or being triggered. Most of you all think AO3 is a hellpit of abusive fetishizing fic that will cause anyone who reads it to do those things to other people, and want it shut down. And you're wrong on all counts, and just end up sounding like creeps who want to rape people for real and are only stopped by social disapproval. (Especially when you proceed to sexually harass people in "socially approved" ways to express your displeasure with their ships!) So stop. Sit down. Realize that your disgust is probably personal and does not mean that something is morally wrong. (Seriously, people are into some strange things, and most of them are harmless in fiction and impossible in real life.) Stop acting like fringe cases should dictate everyday life. And if you really, truly must attack something Bad and feel like you'll die if you don't and you don't have a therapist to call, go take it out on /pol/. Make sure to use a proxy.

[sevensity]

Are requests open? If so senpai I would like to request the RFA + v and saeran ( or just the Rfa) reacting to an mc who can purr like a cat. I can and my friends get a kick out of it lmao

Requests are always open my friend! It just might take a while for me to write them ;__; ALSO WHAT CAT PURR PERSON???? THAT’S WICKED????

also whoops I could’t think of anything for saeran or v i’m so so sorry ahhh

ᒍᗩEᕼEE:

When she hears you purr for the first time, you guys are just closing up shop

Unpleasant Memories resurface, and she almost has a mental breakdown then and there

There’s gonna be cat hair in all our products and then one day we’re going to find a cat in the coffee bag and then there’s gonna be cats falling from the ceiling and-

“Jaehee?”

“MC! Where’s the cat? Where is it? I’ll find it and -” she grabs a nearby broom and begins her search

cats really stress her out I guess? i wonder why

you purr again because you’re just a Kind Person who is Definitely Not Sadistic in the least

she whips around to face you, broom raised, ready for a furry onslaught

but it’s just you

“MC? Did you.. are you…?”

you purr once more, a coy smile curling around your lips

Jaehee promptly collapses onto the floor, her poor nerves rattled beyond belief

in a shakey voice, she asks you to never do that again, however, 

she secretly enjoys it when you purr at her touch

she’s gonna take that secret to the grave though

YOOᔕᑌᑎG:

this boy honestly thinks you farted

but he’s in awe of how demure and pretty it sounded

though also he starts to blush because bIah MC is just the cutest no matter what 

a few days go by before you do it again, and at that point

he whips out the ‘MC even your farts are perfect” you’re just like????? the hell???

He’s so embarrassed cuz he has to explain about how that One Time he heard you let one rip and now you just did it again and how do you do that so nicely can you teach me??

“Yoosung I - that- that was not flatulence!”

“I - huh?”

so you pointedly stare at him while you purr, and realization dawns on his face

and then it’s replaced by sheer horror

he clutched his head in his hands, melting in a puddle of humiliation on the floor

he’s still traumatized by the experience for a while after, then once he more or less gets over it, Yoosung just loves your purring cuz ya know he’s s sucker for animals and yeah

sometimes you say to him, “Hey Yoosung, do you still want me to teach you how to fart like me?”

“Yes.”

ᘔEᑎ:

he’s not even inside the house when you purr yet he still sneezes himself into another dimension

he has an ongoing allergic reaction, and it gets to the point that he can no longer act properly

so he goes home, a teary-eyed and snot-dripping mess

he starts talking about how his allergies started again for some reason, maybe a co actor had  pet cat or something

you purr right at that exact moment

Zen knows it’s coming from your direction, but he exiles himself to the furthest physically accessible corner

he’s not dealing with that shit

“MC…if you do that again I’m…I’m going to sneeze all over your nice clothes!”

that was the most threatening thing Zen has ever said to you, so maybe it would be a bad idea to push him too much

overall just h a t e s it

ᒍᑌᗰIᑎ:

he actually doesn’t know it’s you, cuz duh he already has a cat??

you like to tease him by purring, then watch as he looks around for Elly excitedly

he thinks that she’s just playing hide and seek with him, so Jumin starts to go along with it

meanwhile the real Elly is watching in mild interest from atop the bookcase

you think it’s cute, and you keep doing it

Elly catches on real quick she’s a smart lady

she goes around the place, purring, running away, and then you’ll purr from the other side of the house

which makes him sprint to your location in a matter of seconds

you managed to get Jumin to do this for ever

the record is like five hours

he just finds it so much fun

but of course, there comes the day when all games end

it was a simple accident, you were reading a book, and purred to yourself because why the fuck not

but lo and behold, Han Man was right behind you

he heard that shit

you got busted?

Jumin is mildly let down when he finds out that it had mostly been a ruse, but that was quickly replaced by a newfound adoration for you

MC can purr??? Sh e can purr?????? I love cats I love MC k???

what a nice guy

Elly still plays hide and seek though

ᔕᗩEYOᑌᑎG:

he pretty much launches himself through the fucking wall as soon as he hears  the purring

when he can’t find the cat at first glance, he’s down on all fours, sniffing the pillows, the ground

hunting 4 that pussy

he figures out the secret real quick though cuz he’s too smart 4 lyfe

his hair is ruffled, his eyes are wide and shining, and he demands that you teach him how to purr,  convinced that being able to do so will allow him to have secret conversations with Elly

maybe actually ask her for her hand paw in marriage because consent is really important kids

also talking smack about Jumin because Seven can sass people to heaven

but talking to cats doesn’t stop there

you guys actually invent your own purring language, the pitch and frequency of the purr making up different sentences

y’all have your own conversation in Cat Speech

Jumin wants in on the secret

Elly tells you that Han Man like to sing opera in the shower

also other things but they’re rated R for Really Smutty