#so it’s not like I volunteered to do the easiest job | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

prettyboysdontlookatexplosions · 2 months

Text

because this has been on my mind wrapping up the epilogue, here is a little story about how writing fanfiction for very silly sometimes awesome sometimes genuinely terrible SYFY show the magicians changed my life for real.

i started writing help, i’m alive in may 2020. as i have stated many times on this blog, the overarching goal from which this story sprung was my passionate desire to give quentin coldwater each and every last thing he deserved: i wanted to follow him all the way through a downward spiral, and then i wanted to figure out what it would take for him to climb out of the darkness and make it to somewhere he actually wanted to be. the first part of that, the part that became damage control, was some of the easiest writing i’ve ever done, even accounting for the hours spent google mapping the most depressing road trip of all time. the second part was harder, and not just because it wound up being more than four times as long (lmao). it was thornier; there were more threads to weave through; and, frankly, quentin was so fucked up that it took a lot of effort even to outline what it was he needed in order to change. i had written one story already in which the pivot happened entirely internally, an act of self-forgiveness that proved transformational, and i knew that this time i needed to give him more: actual wants, actual actions, an actual life, with actual ties not just to the people already in his circle but to the world beyond. once i had that outline, the first four chapters flowed pretty easily, anchored by the goal of hitting the story’s first big win, which is when quentin finds a way to fix something for the first time since his magic broke; chapter five was where i got stuck.

by that point, it was fall. i had quit my teaching job mid-pandemic with some modest savings, no back-up plan, and a growing realization that after five years in the classroom, teaching was no longer something i could see myself returning to; working obsessively on this story was, among other things, a great way to quiet the constant humming freak-out of what the fuck i was going to do with my life. in october doing some jump squats after sitting in bed all day i threw my back out so badly i couldn’t walk to the bathroom unassisted and paid a hundred dollars to talk to a telehealth doctor for fifteen minutes for some muscle relaxants. the pain sucked, but so did not knowing whether i was going to be better by election day — i’d signed up to be a poll worker, and i really could have used the money.

i’d started dipping my toe in some local volunteer stuff when i quit, but it was during this time that i signed up for the first time for a particular project i was really excited about joining. i did the zoom training with my camera off because my back still hurt too much to sit up; the follow-up involved scanning and emailing some personal documents and signed agreements. i didn’t do it the next day because, whatever, my back fucking hurt; i didn’t do it the day after that because…? and then, well — then i started feeling like i had missed my chance, and it was too late now.

now, here’s the thing: i say feeling like because by this point i had learned enough about the world that i knew — like, knew — that, objectively, taking a few days to send an email (during a pandemic, while i was having previously established health issues) is not considered by most people to be an unforgivable crime. i knew that i should still send the email. and i also had learned enough about myself that i could actually recognize the thing happening in my brain as an example of the kind of overly self-protective mechanisms in which i have many years of practice; i knew by then that i was an absolute expert at finding reasons to not do things that felt like they were based in truth but were really just cleverly disguised manifestations of fear, because if you do things then bad things might happen, but if you don’t do things then nothing bad happens, except that you ruin your own life. i knew all of this!! i could diagnose and analyze exactly how i was once again perpetuating the same anxiety-driven patterns that had governed so much of my life. i was conscious of the workings of my own unconscious. but i still couldn’t bring myself to send the fucking email. instead i was spending 16 hours a day alternately lying in bed and gingerly pacing in my apartment to regain mobility, feeling like shit about the fact that i wasn’t sending the email and also trying fruitlessly to unpack whatever was going on in chapter five.

the election came five days into this mess, and i did feel well enough to go work the polls. this was a great way to experience election 2020, by the way; i had to leave my apartment at like 3:30 in the morning and by the time the returns started coming in i was too delirious to have any emotions about them whatsoever. it was also, not to be a shill for electoral politics, genuinely kind of inspiring: all these people lining up to Do Democracy, the deployment of translators to assist across languages, the columbia undergrad from the neighborhood we were in i was paired with at the info desk who told me he wanted to go into politics and said very seriously, upon hearing i had a friend in the grad school there, “you should tell them to join the union.” plus, you know, the high of doing something, surrounded by other human beings, at a time when that sort of thing had been in short order for the work-from-home crowd for months, and i personally had recently been confined to my bed for several days.

leaving the site that night, entering my twentieth consecutive hour awake, i felt this weird mix of spiritually rejuvenated and psychologically worse. i had just lived through this physical proof of how doing things is both not that scary and kind of awesome, i had spent a day living in alignment with the kind of person i wanted to be, i felt a fresh rush of love for my city and its people — and i still couldn’t imagine sending the fucking email! it was like i was looking at the thing i wanted most through a pane of glass, and the glass was actually really easy to break, so the only thing stopping me was that i was too much of a baby to do it.

and the thought that i had then, i fucking swear, was: i would be such a fucking hypocrite if i wrote quentin coldwater into a happy ending i’m too cowardly to give myself.

which is, first of all: SOOOOOOOO corny, like omg. unbelievably cringe. embarrassing as hell. but it was also my truth at that moment in time. i had no faith in my own ability to change, but i had spent five months and counting thinking about almost nothing else except the story i was writing in which quentin also has no faith in his ability to change but is brave enough to do it anyway, and i really felt like — i could not live with myself putting these ideas out into the world and refusing to integrate them into my own life. i could not write this promise that something better was possible for quentin if i wasn’t even going to try to make it possible for me. i could, apparently, live forever with my constant self-sabotage, but i couldn’t live with myself making this story a lie (this story being, again, fanfiction for a TV show that was, at its best, so great, and also, at its worst, so, SO stupid).

and like… that worked. i emailed the documents the next day; i attended my first monthly zoom meeting that weekend, during which the election was officially called, which felt like a good omen. i summoned the idea that had presented itself to me that night — don’t be a hypocrite! do what you would want quentin to do! — again a while later when my email got lost in the shuffle and i had to send a check-in following up, and again every other time something came up where my fear had to war it out with my desire. (or, well, most other times — it's a work in progress, and yes, i do still find myself calling upon this logic to this day.)

my life now looks more like the happy ending i wrote quentin into than it did almost four years ago, when i started this story, or even three years ago, when i finished it. it looks more like that future than i ever imagined my life could look when i was writing it, and not just because, as i have mentioned before, a few weeks after my election night revelation, i did do as quentin did and befriend a community-minded extrovert who invited me to join a book club. even the fact that the final part of the epilogue has taken me so much longer than expected is a funny case of life imitating art, because while i have had work and illness and travel and general life stress, i have also had many days in the past few months where i was not very productive because i was simply too busy doing something fun — the kind of never-quite-solved balancing act quentin was set to deal with in the epilogue back when i first started kicking it around, well over two years ago at this point, but which was not really applicable to my own life until basically now. and it sounds even to my own ears so, so, so insane to say this, but it’s true: i can trace every aspect of that shift to the fact that i wrote this story, and that writing it fundamentally changed something inside me for the better. (shout-out to the people in the comments who noted that the story was, in a meta sense, my own version of quentin’s coffee maker; i knew you were right, but i don’t think i knew how right until this recent bout of reflection.)

i don't really know that there's a take-away here, because "quit your job and write four hundred thousand words about a weird TV show with a niche audience" is not exactly universally applicable advice. but if i were to try to find one, i think it would be something like: i felt really crazy and kind of embarrassed the entire time i was writing this story, not because i was writing fanfiction, or because it was incredibly horny and wildly self-indulgent, but because it mattered to me so, so deeply. it was one thing to have a fun goofy hobby, even a fun goofy hobby i took semi-seriously and poured a lot of time and effort into, but it was another to actually, like, care, and to care a lot, which i did. but if i hadn't accepted that this story mattered to me, i don't think it could have been as personally transformational as it wound up becoming. the heart wants what it wants, and you're only going to find out what that is if you're willing to listen to whatever rhythm it beats.

i solved chapter five on the way home from the poll site, by the way. i knew there needed to be some problem with quentin’s first semi-successful attempt to mend the coffee maker, but i couldn’t figure out how it tied in thematically with where he was in his life. on the bus it hit me: quentin and the coffee maker were both trying to remain unbreakable. an appealing idea if you’ve been broken, but one more conducive to stagnancy than to growth; you can stay there for a while, but eventually you need to let yourself want more.

#writing tag #the magicians #isabel 2k24

84 notes · View notes

batbirdies · 1 year

Text

ADHD and being your own zookeeper

So, I was diagnosed with mixed ADHD in my late 20′s. It’s been a couple years since then and I was recently lamenting to a close friend about the difficult process of working out alternative methods of doing things once you’ve (finally) realized the standard ways don’t work.

With that in mind I thought I would just volunteer some advice I have gathered over the last couple years of attempting to be my own zookeeper.

This will mainly be with an ADHD focus since that’s me but hopefully it will be helpful to lots of ND people.

to start, you’ve probably heard of inviting people over to force yourself to clean. This is.... a method. And it works! until it doesn’t (ie burnout). Basically this is a way to trigger a stress response in yourself that forces motivation. You can do this. I have done this. But I would say this is an absolute last resort and not something you should ever be doing on a regular basis. It is not the healthy way to go about this. So here are my tips on hopefully maintaining your life without needing to resort to this stressful method.

(also I know this is long ADHD peeps, I’m sorry I’m just longwinded it can’t be helped.)

So, to get started

1. Time yourself.

Sometimes a whole task is overwhelming to think about and starting it feels impossible because the idea of finishing it feels impossible. So what I often do instead is just choose a specificed amount of time (a SHORT amount). I usually do 15 minutes, but you can do whatever you choose, and tell myself I will spend that amount of time on a task (usually cleaning but can be anything). This feels much more managable to me, it’s a definite length of time and I know I am capable of 15 minutes (or whatever amount of time you can manage) of sustained activity.

also DO NOT keep going after the time is up. Stop. Because if you keep going your brain will then remember this and know that 15 minutes isn’t actually just 15 minutes and then you’re back to the initial problem of being overwhelmed. Pick a time and stick to that time.

2. Do things the easy way.

When I say this what I mean is “do things the way that sounds easiest to YOU”. Sometimes that is actually, objectively, the harder way to do something. It’s less efficient, takes longer etc, but it feels more doable for whatever reason. Just do it the way you are capable of doing it.

As an example I needed to clean the litter box really bad but I just kept putting off and then feeling guilty and also gross and instead of just cleaning it I dumped the whole thing and started fresh because it felt like less work. Alternatively on other days I have been planning to dump the whole thing and start fresh but THAT sounds like heavy lifting and being outside but I can manage to just scoop the box like normal. So I do that instead.

3. Do things part way

This is more something to learn to be ok with rather than a method in and of itself. But along with the first suggestion, 15 minutes sometimes isn’t long enough to complete a task. And sometimes you don’t have another 15 minutes later in the day to finish it etc. But doing part of a task is SO MUCH better than doing none of it. I have started using the mantra “If it’s worth doing, it’s worth doing what you can.”

4. Make a list

This is a suggestion I see on tons of (bad, unhelpful) articles online about ADHD and accomplishing tasks. I find that it can be sometimes helpful and sometimes not, depending on what it is I need to get done. For my actual office job, it can be really helpful because I sometimes get frozen because there’s too many things to do and I can’t seem to just pick a place to start. Making a list in this case helps me to just start moving in a specific direction and keep going. This can also be the case with cleaning if you just don’t know where to begin. But do not feel like you have to do this either, because sometimes a list just feels like pressure to accomplish things and that’s not helpful at all.

An alternativey way I have found to make lists in relation to #1 is to make a list of things I will spend X amount of time doing, because as someone whose brain flits between tasks rapidly when I’m not in hyperfocus mode it’s sometimes easier to keep swapping back and forth, however if you do it TOO quickly you don’t accomplish anything. So I try to time things. Ten minutes here, ten minutes there, etc. or whatever amount of time you choose.

5. Do things the minute they occur to you if at all possible

I’m sure I don’t even need to say this and people will know immediately why, but just literally. You won’t remember. Do not tell yourself you’ll do it later when it’s more convenient you are GOING To forget until you are laying in bed trying to sleep and then go “oh shit I didn’t do the thing”. And for the record it is totally ok to get up and out of bed and go do the thing if it feels managable and won’t keep you up all night. If it will, put an alarm in your phone to remind you the next day at a convenient time.

6. Get a body double

This is something I’ve always sort of known about but didn’t understand until recently, and it’s actually a thing you can even look up articles about it now. Basically for some unknown reason it will feel easier to stay on task if there is another person with you. I have invited my sister over to hang out with me while I clean my apartment before. The difficult aspect of having someone in person, especially if its for cleaning, is that you have to be ok with them seeing the dirty version. However I have also found this can work almost equally as well over the phone! So totally get on the phone with a friend while you task!

I do advise that you tell whoever you are asking for help this way that that’s what you’re doing. at least for me, depending on the task, if can take up enough attention that it’s hard to maintain conversation. But if they person knows that they can either carry the convo or be chill with silence while they also continue their things on the other end.

7. use a crock pot

This is obviously cooking specific, but I recently bought myself a slow cooker and it’s been a game changer for making myself cook. For whatever reason it is so much easier to make myself get meals going midday than it is in the evenings. And I’m also much more likely to clean up the mess when I can do it before the food is ready. There are ALSO CROCKPOT BAGS YOU CAN BUY!! SO YOU DON’T EVEN HAVE TO WASH THE CROCKPOT BETWEEN USES, JUST THE LID! But if the bag leaks or something you can wash the pot part in the disahwasher (and the lid)

8. buy frozen meals

tbh frozen meals are way too small they do not equal an actual meal in my mind, however when you are full on into hyperfocused mode and the idea of stopping to eat is laughable, these will be your rescue. Pop it in the microwave and go back to your thing, eat it while you continue your thing. It’s at least a more healthy and well rounded snack than potato chips, or alternatively, not eating.

9. Make your next appointment before you leave

If you’re anything like me, sometimes making that phone call and scheduling something is like some incomprehensibly unmanagable task even though it will literally take 1 minute. (But then if you have phone anxiety then that complication is thrown in.)

So when possible, after a dentist or doctor appt, make your next one before you leave. Most dentists want you on a 6 month rotation, doctors on a yearly one (chiro monthly etc). I know that is like a crazy long time away to think about having something on your schedule but they’ll call you a day or two before the appt to remind you and if you MUST you can reschedule, but that will at least force you into making the phone call if you end up being unable to keep the appt. (however be aware of cancellation fees etc. this is ALWAYS a good idea because of such things)

Also ask if you can schedule online, a lot of places have that ability now!!

10. Try new methods and be flexible

As I’m sure is the case for a lot of peope with ADHD, things that work really well one day will not be an ounce of help the next. This can be particularly frustrating because you will think you have found the holy grail method. FINALLY, SOMETHING THAT WORKS!!! I WILL BE ABLE TO ACCOMPLISH ALL OF THE THINGS I HAVE STRUGGLED WITH MY WHOLE LIF-- WTF this doesn’t help anymore.

I have found that when something is a NEW strategy, it helps a lot! and then after a week or two it loses effectiveness. This is fine though, because if you have enough methods you can cycle through them and they are like new again!! It’s like hiding a toy from your cat after it gets bored and then giving it to them again in a month and oh wow! new toy!!

This is where I’m at currently and all of the helpful things I could come up with. I may add things as they occur to me<3

#adhd #advice on adhd #nd #neurodivergent #I'm sure this is full of typoes sorry folks

349 notes · View notes

vodika-vibes · 3 months

Text

**Chapter 1**

Summary: When Commander Wolffe is forced into early retirement after losing an eye in a terrorist attack, he thinks his life is over. However, when his twin brother volunteers him to help a younger cousin adjust to life outside the military, he doesn’t fight as much as he normally would have. Still when his younger cousins, Rex and Gregor, told him that they signed up to play security for Doctors Without Borders, he genuinely thought that it was going to be the easiest job he’s ever had. Right up until the plane falls out of the sky and they end up stranded on an island that doesn’t follow any of the rules as he knows them.

Characters: Commander Wolffe, Captain Rex, Captain Gregor, F!Reader character called Bumblebee or Bee in story

Genre: Adventure, Supernatural, some romance (because I'm me)

Word Count: 2394

Warnings: None, so far

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly

A/N: So I wasn't going to start this story until I finished my event stuff, but apparently I had an idea and needed to get it down.

This is the worst.

The absolute worst.

He should be home, in the barracks, looking after his brothers in the 104th. He should be standing next to his general as they prepare for the next push against the Seppies.

But no. He’s here, miles away from where he should be, waiting for the tiny plane to finish getting loaded for the last stretch of his, and his cousins, journey.

Wolffe can’t even bring himself to enjoy the scenery, why bother, it’s not like he’s going to be here long anyway. He leans against the back of the bench that he’s sitting on, his gaze flickering around the airstrip until he spies Rex and Gregor, talking with a pair of women near the building.

Good. So long as they’re not getting in trouble.

Not that he really expected them to. But as the oldest, he can’t help but look out for them.

Especially Gregor.

His cousin had healed very nicely from the injury that nearly killed him. He’s still himself, the TBI doing very little to change his personality, but his memory is still spotty.

It’s one of the biggest reasons that he didn’t fight quite as hard as he normally would have when Fox volunteered him for the position. Besides, Doctors Without Borders is a respectable organization.

He could do worse.

Sure that his cousins are safe and aren’t wandering off to get mugged by someone who hates tourists, Wolffe casts his gaze back to the plane. And slowly his eyebrows raise when one of the doors open and a young woman hops out of the cockpit.

She looks familiar.

She looks very familiar.

He knows that jacket. He damn well better, he was the one who bought it in the first place.

He pushes to his feet and approaches the plane, and…there, on the side of her neck, a bumblebee tattoo with a honeycomb behind it.

A grin crosses his face without his permission, “Well now, look who it is. Lieutenant Bumblebee, in the flesh.”

She turns, and a wide grin crosses her face, “Wolffe? What brings you to my corner of paradise?” She walks over to him and bumps her fist against his, “I thought ‘vacations are beneath you’.” She mocks.

“Yeah, yeah. They are. I got a job with Doctors Without Borders, with some of my cousins.” He jabs his thumb over his shoulder, “I heard that you were living in the lap of luxury, though. White sandy beaches and fruity little drinks with umbrellas-”

She laughs, “Does this look like retirement to you, Wolfy-boy?”

“Dunno, you always loved to fly more than anything else.” He folds his arms over his chest, “Seeing you with a plane doesn’t surprise me in the slightest.” Wolffe pauses, “You know, I did hear a rumor-”

Her smile becomes slightly strained, “That I was Dishonorably Discharged and slapped with a court martial? Cause that’s not a rumor.”

“Shit, really?” She doesn’t respond and Wolffe rolls his eyes, “Come on, Bee. It’s me. What happened?”

“Gross Insubordination.” She says with a sigh, “Look, after I was transferred from Koon, I was given to Krell.”

Wolffe inhales sharply.

“Yeah.” Her laugh is slightly bitter, understandably bitter, “Well, I took issue with how he treated the men under his command and I didn’t hesitate to tell him so. So I was grounded and slapped with a court martial. And by the time Krell was removed and arrested for abusing the men under his command, everything had taken a life of its own, so I just took the Dishonorable Discharge.”

“You could have fought it.”

“Could have.” Bee agrees, “Just…the way that some of the people I’ve known for years looked at me.” She sighs and pushes her hand through her hair, “There was no point. Luckily, Plo put in a good word for me here.”

“Good thing the General likes you.”

“Tell me about it. I could do far, far worse than being a pilot for an organization as well respected as this one.” She shrugs and glances at her clipboard, “Not to mention, they’re pretty good about making sure that my prosthetics are up to par-”

“Prosthetics? What prosthetics?” Wolffe asks, his gaze snapping down her body, “Since when do you need prosthetics?”

Bee arches a delicate brow and lifts the leg of her long pants, revealing a matte gray prosthetic leg. “Parting gift from Krell.” She pauses, “Or, well, that’s my guess. I was officially injured in combat. But I’m almost positive that there weren’t any seppies on that planet-”

She pauses and takes a deep breath, dropping the leg of her pants and gestures vaguely with her clipboard, as if to say well, what can you do.

As if Wolffe needed another reason to hate Krell. Life in prison is too good for him.

“Sorry, I didn’t know. No one told me.”

“Yeah, well. It’s not as if I had very many friends left behind after the Court Martial.” She shrugs, “Anyway, what happened to your eye?”

“That blunt, huh?”

“That blunt.”

“Seppies.”

“Isn’t it always?”

Wolffe releases a humorless laugh, “Seems like it.” He leans against a crate, “Officially, I was medically discharged. Technically, I’m on medical leave for the next six months.”

“General Koon favors you.”

“Don’t I know it.” Wolffe’s gaze drags across the crates of medical supplies and other supplies, “So, who all are you transporting.”

“Well, according to my manifest-” Bee flips to a back page, “You, Rex and Gregor-” She pauses, “Is blondie over there, Rex? Shit, last time I saw him he was still in high school.”

Wolffe grins, “He’s a Captain now.”

“Ugh, I feel old.”

“You feel old? How do you think I feel?”

Bee laughs, “That’s what you get for being one of the oldest.” She glances back at her manifest, “Anyway, I’m also transporting a new nurse, her name is Raya Valencia. And a mechanic on loan from the GAR, Maty Wilson. Also, someone from the local government forced his way onto the manifest.”

“Mm, politics.”

“There’s no escaping it, I’m afraid.” Bee sets her manifest aside, “Anyway, someone will have to sit in the cockpit with me with the new addition.”

“Is that an offer, Bee?”

“What, you want a handwritten invitation?”

Wolffe laughs, “Hardly. I’ll be more than happy to sit up front with you. Maker knows we clearly have some catching up to do, LT.”

Bee grins at him, “Hardly my fault you went and got promoted to Commander and stopped associating with us minions.”

“Hey, I’ve always had a soft spot for you minion-y types.”

“Yeah, yeah,” There’s a laugh in her voice, “Beat it, Wolfy-boy. I have work to do. We’ll be lifting off in thirty.”

“I’m going, I’m going.” He tosses his bag over his shoulder and meanders on over to his cousins, as Bee turns to shout at a worker in a language he kind of recognizes.

It’s damned good to see her. Though it is a shame to hear about what happened to her.

“Making friends, Wolffe?” Rex asks with an arched brow.

“Chatting with an old friend,” Wolffe replies, “One that you know. You’ve met Bee before.”

Rex blinks, twice, and then his head snaps towards the plane, “Wait Bee? That Bee? The one we met at your graduation?”

“The one and the same.”

Rex stares in her direction, “Small world-”

“Tell me about it.”

“What happened between you two anyway?” Gregor asks, “If I remember correctly, you two were a thing-”

“Drop it.” Wolffe frowns at them, and then he sighs, “We were never a thing. I chickened out before I could ask her. And then I was promoted and it wouldn’t have worked anyway.”

“Well, she’s not in the military anymore-” Rex prods with a grin.

“Drop. It.”

“Okay, okay.” Rex holds his hands up, “Sorry. There’s no need to get snippy.”

Wolffe opens his mouth to say something, only to pause when Bee jogs over, “Alright Boys, and Girls and both and neither,” She says as she claps her hands, “The Airstrip is needed for an emergency medevac so we’re hauling out of here early. Get your stuff on board and make sure everything is secured.”

“Copy that, LT.” Rex says with a cheerful salute.

“Don’t you sass me, Rexy. I remember you as a pimply high schooler.”

“Yes, but I outgrew that. See, pimple free.” His grin widens, “You, however, are still short.”

“Get!” Bee shouts as she points at the plane, and Rex, laughing, hurries past her. And then she turns her glare on Wolffe, “How is he just as obnoxious now as he was when he was a kid?”

“It’s just his personality. Sorry, Bee.”

Bee scowls at him and then hurries off to go and find the politician, probably.

Wolffe shakes his head and joins his cousins at the plane, where he promptly smacks Rex across the back of the head, “You piss her off and I’m the one who pays for it, how’s that fair?”

Rex, for his part, doesn’t look the least bit apologetic. Which only serves to make Wolffe more annoyed with him. Still, he’s mature enough to let the situation settle as everyone climbs on the plane.

Wolffe stows his bag under some netting, and then climbs into the co-pilot’s seat, while making sure that everyone else is strapped in properly. He’s not so worried about Rex or Gregor, but the two civvies might need some help.

And then Bee is back, with an older man in tow. He’s wearing a nice suit, nicer than anything Wolffe has seen anyone wearing since he arrived here, and he’s holding a cloth over his mouth and nose.

“My dear,” The old man says in a raspy smoker’s voice, and Wolffe doesn’t even have to look at Bee to know that she rolled her eyes at the diminutive pet name, “Surely there’s someplace…private for me to sit?”

“Nope.” Bee replies, “Small transport vessel. No private rooms.” She points to an empty seat across from Gregor, next to the door, “Sit there.”

“Well, I suppose the door is the best seat.” He muses as he sits down and only fastens the belt around his waist.

“You need to fasten the-” Gregor starts.

“Young man, I know what I’m doing.” The older man interrupts with a sniff.

Bee rolls her eyes again and lightly claps Gregor on the shoulder, “Don’t worry about it.” She moves through the aisle, taking a moment to make sure that everything is secured, and then she moves into the cockpit and pulls the door shut behind her.

She tosses Wolffe a lopsided grin, and offers him the spare headset, “I know you don’t fly much anymore, Commander, but surely you can co-pilot for one flight?”

Wolffe chuckles and takes the headset, pulling it on, “Well, I suppose I’d better.” He leans back in his seat and he watches as she effortlessly goes through the pre-flight check.

Less than fifteen minutes later, the plane is in the air, and pulling away from the airfield. And Bee activates her radio, “Alright everyone, as of now, our flight will take three hours, we’re taking a circuitous route to avoid a storm-”

She’s interrupted when the radio from the back crackles to life, “Absolutely not! I refuse to spend more time in this tin can than I have to. Take a shorter route or I’ll have your job!”

Bee glances at Wolffe, and then sighs, “As you wish. Then our flight will take an hour.” She cuts the radio, and glances at Wolffe, “This is going to go horribly.”

“Maybe we’ll get lucky?” Wolffe offers.

Bee just sighs, and turns her gaze out the front window, “We won’t.”

Wolffe wakes with a pained groan. His head is throbbing.

Actually, his everything is throbbing. Including his eyelashes.

His eyes crack open and the sun, high overhead, nearly blinds him.

Wait. Sun?

Wolffe opens his eyes properly. The top of the plane is gone. He’s still strapped to his seat, luckily, and he still seems to be in the cockpit, but the roof is gone.

“Bee?” He, painfully, turns his head to the side, looking towards the pilot’s seat. Bee is still strapped in her seat, her head lolled to her chest, blood dripping from a wound on her temple. “Bee!”

She groans at his voice, “Stop yelling,” Bee’s eyes crack open and she groans, “Ow…”

“What happened?” Wolffe asks, “Do you remember?”

“I was ordered to take a shortcut, and then-”

The storm.

The clouds came from nowhere. One moment there were clear skies, and then it was like flying through a hurricane. Wolffe had been forced to actually co-pilot to help Bee keep the plane under control.

“-the door ripped off,” Wolffe remembers, vague memories of the various consoles flaring to life in front of him as the side door opened.

“Which would have caused a pressure imbalance,” Bee agrees, as she unfastens her harness and falls out of her seat, “Which would lead to-” She gestures to where the roof used to be. “You okay?”

“I think my everything is bruised.” Wolffe says as he pulls his own harness off and reaches for the door separating the cockpit from the rest of the plane.

“Better bruised than dead,” Bee replies logically as she adds her weight to the door. Together, they push the door open.

Rex and Gregor are unconscious, but clearly alive. As are the two civvies, Raya and Maty. The politician is missing.

“We’re missing one,” Wolffe notes as he checks over his cousins.

“Yeah, I don’t think we’ll find him.” Bee says, “he wasn’t wearing his harness.”

Wolffe glances at the ripped seat belt and silently concedes that she’s probably right. “We need to get them off the plane.”

“Yeah. Let’s make a path first, make sure we’re not bringing them into something more dangerous.” Bee says. “We have plenty of equipment, at least.” She adds with a wry smile.

“Small blessings.” Wolffe agrees, “Come on, Bee. Let’s see what we’re working with.”

He walks over to where the door used to be, and he hops out, with Bee hot on his heels. With luck, they’ll find someplace safe nearby.

With luck, they’ll only be here for a couple of days.

Wolffe isn’t going to hold his breath, though. He’s never been very lucky.

#star wars #tcw #star wars au #commander wolffe #captain rex #captain gregor #the wolf's pack

36 notes · View notes

lushlovers · 2 years

Text

Xbox Withdrawals, J Burrow

summary; the burrows decorating their beautiful home for christmas and dallas being the equivalent of the grinch :).

warnings; swearing, dallas the sass master, joe being sad for two seconds, tooth rotting fluffffff

word count; 1k

note; i hate this sm but i had to put out something. thank you all so so much for the recent love on my works, and for 55 followers on here?? if there's anything you guys have in mind that you want written send it my way, i need some ideas!!

"Alright, everything Christmas-ish is down from the attic, as requested, mama," Joe informed you, waltzing into the kitchen with a very unhappy looking Dallas in tow. He probably was put to the slightest work by his father, now he'll be a sourpuss for the rest of the morning.

Annika sat comfortably on your hip, staring up at her father with your same eyes. She was your twin and Joe loved it. The boys were spitting image of him, just with your complexion. He loved to see your little mini me's running around your house.

You hum in return, pressing a kiss to his cheek as a thank you, "ew," Dallas is always cringing at the slightest contact his parents make. Being like every seven year old ever. Geo comes in to see what he missed out on while he was watching his cartoons, "Mama, up!"

"I can't pick up both of you, baby. Anni's getting too big for that." He turns to your husband after your response, and he's scooped up before he even has to ask, but instead of Joe holding him, he sits him down on the counter, "My back is killing me," you groan, getting older is actually the worst thing ever.

"I can tell it's raining, my knee's killing me," Joe mentioned, stretching out his leg the best he could. After surgery it absolutely kills him in the cold.

Decorating in the house was an all day affair, no matter how fast you all tried to get it done, having a seven month old and a five year old running around was a challenge on the daily, let alone when there were glass ornaments sitting out as you placed them along the tree.

Unfortunately, baby Annika has figured out she can pull herself up on the coffee table in the living room and mess around with whatever may be on top of it. Once it's in her hand, of course it ends up in her mouth, some way somehow, especially since her gums bother her so much with teething.

Joe and Dallas had both volunteered to set up the lights on the bushes outside and around the trees, the rest up higher would be taken care of when there's no little ones around who could possibly climb up a ladder or something along those lines.

Going out and looking for a tree was probably the easiest part in all of this, the whole Burrow family got together and did it as a family. Having Joe's brothers and their wonderful families around to blend with your own was something beautiful to watch, especially seeing them all get to grow up side by side. You were the same way as a kid, always hanging out with your cousins.

Thankfully, today Annika has decided not to throw her tantrums or break something on the table whilst you decorate the tree, she even wanted to help the best she could. She reached out for the sparkly red bulb in your hand, to which you perched her upon your hip, taking her hand in yours and hooking it onto one of the beautiful branches.

Geo was hooking them onto it as well, pointing to each one he did searching for praise on the good job he was doing at being a helper, and you are quick to praise his skill every time just because it makes him smile. He's such a little bundle of energy and smiles no matter the time or place. Dallas too usually, but he's in a sassy era at the moment.

Speaking of, he comes inside, this time with Joe following him, kicking his shoes of with even more attitude than before, he'd gotten really accustomed to being on his Xbox all the time, but that was nipped as soon as he got too comfortable sitting around on it all the time. His playing hours are limited, especially when Joe's home. He loves spending time with the boys whenever he's capable.

"He's still mad about the Xbox?" You ask, already knowing the answer, of course he is. Joe only nods, flopping down onto the couch, Dallas had disappeared somewhere upstairs, most likely on his game despite him not supposed to be. "I just don't get why he doesn't wanna spend time with me," he muffles, but you understand what he said perfectly.

"He does, baby," you frown, sitting yourself down beside his head, "He talks about you all the time, to everyone. Even at school, all his teachers know who you are. It's just.. He's a boy in this century, thats all he does is sit on that game for hours." You're telling him the truth, that's all Dallas really likes to do.

"How about you go and join him, while us three finish the tree, then we can all come watch?" He lifts his head, smiling big and pearly at your great idea, causing his eyes to crinkle a bit. He nearly jumps up and trips over something on his way to the stairs. How had he not thought of this yet?

Geo had barely paid any attention to your conversation with your husband, only continuing to add the glittering tinsel along the tree, being sure to pick up the little pieces he'd managed to drop, "Mama, doesn't it look so pretty?" He's asking again for your validation and you happily oblige.

"It's gorgeous, baby. You did a great job helping mama."

#joe burrow #joe burrow fluff #joe burrow fic #joe burrow smut #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow x you #joe burrow imagine #joe burrow fan fic

438 notes · View notes

legitalicat · 2 months

Text

Appalachian Trailer Park!Sihtric - dating (SFW)

AN: This was supposed to be headcanons but now it's just turned into ramblings oops. This is not necessarily meant to be a universal Appalachian experience portrayal, but it is basically very close to mine and most people I grew up with. 😅

Collection masterlist here!

CW: Some sad moments, character death, AFAB!reader, talks of murder, talks of violence, blood a little, FLUFF (like tooth rotting kinda vibes)

Pairings: Sihtric Kjartansson x You

Word count: I'm guessing between 1 and 1.5k but I'm not real sure 😬 I kinda went crazy I will admit

You had lived in the same trailer park in the foothills of Appalachia your entire life. Despite anything that might lead someone to believe different, you liked it here. True, part of you longed for more. But how could one find more when their heart belonged to the mountains?

And maybe the cute guy who lived in the trailer across from yours had part of the reason to do that.

See, Sihtric moved in with his grandma, across from you, when you were both just entering high school. Your momma found out that Miss Ethel's daughter had been killed by her husband, and she had to take in her grandson because of it.

Miss Ethel was a lovely woman. She always volunteered to watch everyone's kids, during the summer she'd help provide the lemonade and the jar for catching lightning bugs. If anyone needed anything, from a cup of sugar to knowledge on hiding a body, Miss Ethel was there.

So, your little community welcomed the boy without a doubt. He didn't really cause any trouble, for the most part. Mostly just cussing in front of the little ones without thinking or throwing something in a fit of anger and making a loud noise.

Surely, wasn't a punishable crime.

Though it helped that you, the girl who helped tutor anyone who asked and baked cookies for the miners to have after their shifts, was sweet on him.

And boy, was he sweet on you.

He was working on his dirt bike in the driveway and you stepped onto your porch. Immediately, he fumbled around and dropped his wrench and cussed like a sailor.

Your cheeks heated up and you would debate to yourself on whether to go back inside or pretend like he wasn't there.

But your eyes connected. You waved. He waved. And it was the easiest thing in the world.

You started dating that same night, after he offered to teach you about his dirt bike and it ended with him kissing you.

Despite the doubts, you and Sihtric stayed together through it all.

Every year in high school began and ended with you walking through doors of the school hand in hand.

You both graduated, though him only by a thread.

He was there as you started college two towns over, close enough to commute daily so were still together.

You watched as he started working for the local garage.

When you were both twenty, Miss Ethel passed.

It felt sudden, especially for Sihtric, but you found out she had been sick for a while and just hid it from everyone. Including her grandson.

If anyone asked him, you were his rock.

You explained the situation to your college professors, and if you could make sure to keep up with your assignments according to the syllabus, they would find a way to make it work.

So you all but moved in with him officially in the weeks following. You had originally planned on waiting until you got your degree.

But you felt the need to take care of him. And at first he was just angry, angry at everything and the world and the gods and even God who he didn't believe in. He was going to work and coming home and going straight to bed. He wasn't eating, wasn't talking to you.

So, like any good girlfriend, you told him either he let you help him or you would beat him with a broom.

For the first time in weeks he laughed. You started staying with him that night and you just never left.

Before you knew it, you had graduated college, gotten a job in your field, and Sihtric was being poised to take over as shop foreman in the next few years.

And yet, you stayed where you were.

The trailer was nice. It would be fine until you got enough money saved up to buy a house big enough for the brood that Sihtric seemed to want.

For now? For now you had everything you needed. Sure the windows leaked sometimes if the rain rolled down the metal wrong way. Sure, Sihtric would sometimes have to spend a few days working on something else that broke.

But you had him. And that was enough.

The weeks may have been dedicated to work, but the weekends were for you.

Yes, you both always went to bed together. You always were affectionate (the man was a hugging machine after all).

But Saturdays he would wake you up by running a bubble bath for the both of you, using your favorite scent.

Then you would go get breakfast, usually going to Tudor's Biscuit World so he could get a bacon egg and cheese biscuit bigger than your face. You would get, as you called it, a deconstructed pot pie that you joked with him you would leave him for. He would tell you that would give him more money to work on his car.

But he would get you a pot pie at least once a week just because it made you smile. And you would get in the way help him at the fourteen million car parts stores he would go to just because you loved seeing him do what he loved.

Sometimes you'd go to the mall. It was slowly dying, all the family friendly fun stores quickly leaving. But there were still some good parts.

Like Rural King where you could get free popcorn and look at turkeys, chickens, and rabbits (plus any dog that people brought with them).

You would inevitably get sad when you were reminded you couldn't bring home the animals. Like, tears in your eyes, heart aching sad because you just wanted them to have a home.

Which would be forgotten, until you came back at least, when Sihtric promised you he would buy you a milkshake and a stuffed animal or a book of your choice.

Sihtric watched as you practically skipped to the bookstore. You spent an hour there, talking about books you wanted to read but couldn't buy because you couldn't buy the whole series and you were not doing that to yourself right now.

So, after getting your milkshake, you would go find a stuffed animal that spoke to your soul.

He would carry around the contenders for you, because it was those specific ones that spoke to you and you couldn't risk putting them back until you were certain.

And when, inevitably, you came to two that you couldn't pick between, he would tell you get both.

He spoiled you, truly.

Sometimes you would go to a local bar. Not because you personally drank, but mostly because watching drunk people do karaoke tickled something inside your brain.

It also meant Sihtric would wear his white tank top, which showed off his arms in the perfect way. And maybe you would be jealous over the way women looked at him. But how could you be when his arms were wrapped around you all night.

The man was not at all subtle about showing you off.

And if a drunken idiot got too bold with his words about you, Sihtric would suddenly be in protective mode. His voice firm and commanding when he gave the warning to the idiot, making your face a little hot (which you swore had everything to do with embarrassment and definitely not how his voice affected you).

If that wasn't enough to deter someone, and they dared touch you, that was it.

See the only reason you and Sihtric had not been banned from this bar was because Sihtric played just inside the rules.

No fighting in the bar. Fine. Sihtric wouldn't.

He would just gently move away from you before grabbing whoever touched you and throwing them out the door and into the dirt.

He would spend a few minutes wailing on the idiot, getting hit a time or two himself since he had had a few drinks.

But he would come back, knuckles busted, some blood on his shirt or spattered along his face, a bloody lip.

He would settle back in his spot as a waitress brought y'all an ice bucket and the first aid kit (which they regularly replenished now because of Sihtric).

You would get him just cleaned up enough, his hands in the ice for a few minutes at best, when he declared he was done and tired and just wanted to be with you.

So you would drive home, with a tipsy Sihtric singing loudly whatever love song played on the radio cause you would need further proof of his love.

You would settle into bed, being held close to him as you read to him until he fell asleep, and you followed him soon after.

Sundays would depend on you.

Sihtric practiced Norse paganism. You parents were very active in their Methodist church. It caused some conflict, especially when Sihtric started talking about your future children.

If you wanted to go to church with them, Sihtric would kiss you before you left to go and be in the parking lot to pick you up afterwards. There would always be flowers waiting for you. Sometimes it would be dandelions, as you insisted they were beautiful even if they were weeds, sometimes butter cups, and sometimes you got lucky and he had seen tiger lilies.

He would smile at you and kiss you while he handed them to you, ask if the service was good, and then take you somewhere to get lunch.

If you didn't really partake in their church, you both would stay in bed until noon. When you would wake up, you'd crawl out of bed and cooked some breakfast foods that would wake Sihtric up. He would sleepily stumble in the kitchen, grabbing the coffee you set out for him.

Sunday was a lazy day. You guys lounged around the house. Sometimes you both would play video games, sometimes you would watch a show.

There were times when Sihtric's friends from work, Uhtred, Finan, and Osferth, would come over on Sundays. You liked those guys a lot, if you were honest. They were all respectful of you, and kind, and Osferth cleaned up after them so you wouldn't have to. And mostly, they made Sihtric happy.

Sihtric and you would walk over to your parents' for Sunday dinner around 5pm.

Despite the differences in beliefs, and the way your dad not so subtly didn't really like him, Sihtric was respectful and kind to them.

He was the one who insisted you come, telling you he would give anything to have dinner with his family one more time, even if he didn't remember his dad fondly. Family was important to him, even if yours didn't like him, and he wanted you to have that

He would stay quiet, even taking his hat off when your dad would say grace.

He would make polite conversation, always eagerly bragging about you whenever he got the chance.

Sihtric would compliment your momma's cooking. She liked him, but since your dad didn't she tried to act like she didn't.

But she always managed to get him a little extra food to take home, would put his favorite cobbler in the dessert rotation, and make sure his favorite drink was always somewhere to be found.

Your dad was polite. That was about all he could manage. And that was fine, according to Sihtric, because he knew your dad couldn't bitch him out for making you happy.

Sunday nights would end back in your home. You would listen to his talkings of your life together. The promises he made.

He insisted once he became foreman, he would buy you a big house with a dishwasher and enough room for all the animals you could ask for.

You two would be able to have a family of your own, ideally with four children or more, and he would give you everything.

You assured him you knew he would keep the promises he made you. But you always thought to yourself how you would be perfectly content with him, here, forever.

You had a roof over your head, food in your kitchen, electricity and water on demand, and a whole lotta love. You had Sihtric.

It was a simple life. But it was yours.

Side note I could not find the original source of this picture if someone knows please let me know.

Taglist: @foxyanon

#sihtric x you #sihtric kjartansson #appalachian life #appalachian sihtric #the last kingdom #headcanon #fic #sihtric x reader

25 notes · View notes

nigesakis · 8 months

Note

one of your patented the Terror listicles but about them running a Summer Camp. (Except Hickey: he failed the background check because he once beat a nun with a collection plate) also i definitely feel like JFJ would be the swim instructor and and lead campfire sing a longs (badly) and Sir Jon is contemplating selling the camp to a mining company.

i feel honored. i dont know shit about camps though

The Terror if it played in a Summer Camp (1980's-2000's)

Francis: staff, camp manager (in his cabin office doing papework most of the time, so when he comes out the kids go OOOOOOH🫨🤙🤙 like in regular show; they like him tho, its in good fun)

Franklin: staff, camp owner (he doesnt have to be here, but decides to check it out once because he's thinking of selling. kids like him 'cause he lets them do what they want; he doesn't know theyre supposed to do tasks (Francis has to do double the paperwork now))

Fitzjames: staff, boys head counselor and program manager (he's everywhere... whys this guy suddenly at the swim instruction and does the swim instructors job? too motivated and the kids know hes trying to get them to like him; works)

Sophia: staff, girls head counselor and photographer/videographer (everyone who hates getting their picture taken doesn't mind if its her. only counselor the kids respect)

Collins: staff, swim instructor/lake guard (lets Fitzjames do the classes so he doesnt have to talk so much)

Blanky: staff, counselor and woods master (i made that up), leads the forest expeditions (suddenly all the kids like walking?? (he has a better prosthetic now))

Bridgens: staff, horsemanship instructor (popular with the kids)

Peglar: staff, overnight counselor (tells good stories when you cant sleep, lets the older ones smoke weed behind the cabins, whys the horsemanship instructor here?)

Hodgons: staff, counselor (easiest to pull pranks on; he thinks theyre doing it because they like him)

Irving: staff, counselor and worship leader (i didnt know this existed but well)

Dundy: staff, archery instructor (i think hed look cool doing it)

Jopson: staff, assistant, nobody knows what hes actually doing here

Little: staff, runs the inventory and snack bar, lets them steal

Wall & Diggle: staff, kitchen staff. you can hear them arguing from the outside

Silna: kid, sneaked in her fucking dog ("You think Neptune is gonna protect us from the killer?" watched Friday 13th before coming)

Tozer: kid, acts like hes a counselor

Goodsir: kid, the others rather come to him than the actual camps nurse (Stanley)

Manson & Hartnell: kids, got lost in the woods tying to smoke weed

Armitage: kid, got lost in the woods because he wanted to go home

Gibson: kid, only came cause Hickey told him he'd be a staff volunteer and let them break rules but now Hickey isnt there?

Des Voeux: missed the bus

26 notes · View notes

aza-writes · 9 months

Text

Revenge or Revolution

Chapter 2

• District 2 • Five Years Before the Revolution •

I shade the dragon's tongue, having him breathe fire onto my notes, causing the lettering to melt and drip to the bottom of the page. It's not like I'm missing anything that important. It's going over the survival tactics for freezing and Arctic-related arenas, which there have been very few of.

They're very boring, most people freeze to death before the actual killing begins. The two times there was an Arctic-like arena it wasn't received well by the capital. Besides, I know every survival tip about the Arctic.

1. Find a waterproof and windproof shelter 2. Ice fishing is the easiest way to find food but it's also the leaves you exposed to the other tributes. Rabbits will be your best bet for food even though they blend in with the snow. 3. Watch for bears and wolves

That's all that is expected for me to know at least, the games are so unpredictable that even the best training alone isn't enough to have a tribute win the games. The game makers do what they want, but it's very unlikely for them to do anything in that cold of an environment.

My teacher drones on and on about some I have known since I was ten until she's cut off by the loud chime of the intercom.

"Ivory Kentwell, to the Head Dean's office, Ivory Kentwell."

My head snaps up, and everyone's eyes are on me. There's no reason for me to be in trouble, so this is it. The meeting. I have been chosen to volunteer.

I have the opportunity to be a District Two's female tribute. I have the opportunity to be a District Two Victor.

I get up and try to hide the smile that creeps along my face. I can't look too giddy. I need to compose myself, I need to be professional.

I pick up my things and pack them into my backpack. My hands shake a bit, everyone's eyes are still on me. Boys stare in disbelief while girls look either jealous or in awe. The mixed reactions are expected, but I love them all. I love how people are thinking about me. They know why I've been called. Everyone in the school knows.

I smooth out my uniform before I leave the classroom. The halls are silent, but some students are peeking out of the classroom windows watching me march my way to the Dean's office. I manage to stay calm as a few quiet whispers hit my ears.

"She's so young! How did she make first string?"

"Are fifteen-year-olds even allowed to be called so early?"

"I can't believe she beat everyone."

"I bet she's gonna win. Have you seen her throw a knife?"

That last one almost broke my stoic expression.

All the compliments and gossip mean there'll be a district buzz about me which will create more capital buzz. I'm almost guaranteed an abundance of sponsors. Better yet, I'm the first person to be called to the office which gives people even more of a reason to start placing their bets now. They even called me before any male tributes. This is everything my mother always wanted.

I knock three times before entering the Head Dean's office. My eyes land on the Dean who was speaking with my parents and Clove.

Parents; plural My dad is here. He came home for me. The whole year he has been home for around five weeks total. He's constantly traveling for his job as head peacekeeper. He's either at headquarters training recruits, meetings at the Capitol, or protecting President Snow. But he came here for me.

Another smile tries to push itself onto my face, but I keep my stoic expression. This is a professional meeting, I have to act perfectly. Everything my mother has taught me has led to this moment.

"Miss Kentwell, please have a seat." Head Dean Clemonte nods at me, keeping her face as expressionless as mine. She's not a very personable person, and by the stories of my mother and father, she's been like this ever since she started teaching.

I follow her instructions and sit down. "Thank you, Miss." I'm in between my parents, Clove is sitting on a bench against the back wall. I wonder what she's thinking right now. Is she proud of me? Sad I'm leaving? Worried? I want to get into her brain.

My mom places her hand on my shoulder beaming with pride, my father looks at Dean Clemonte, a soldier look on his face.

"Now, I assume you know why I called you in here today, but for formalities, I will be reading from the official documents." She clears her throat, my mom squeezes my shoulder, my dad is still expressionless, and I'm dying to know what Clove's face looks like. "Congratulations Miss Kentwell, you have been chosen as the first string of potential volunteers for the 69th Annual Hunger Games."

Holy shit, I actually did it. A sigh of relief leaves my body, a weight being taken off my shoulder. I did it. My hard work paid off! I'm first string, I'm going to be in the games!

"With this, you will be required to attend Intensive starting tomorrow at 5 a.m. You will officially be excused from Inclusive and will graduate from District Two Preparatory with the grade you currently hold."

Good, I'll finish at the top of my class, that's another thing for my mother to brag about. But bragging is deserved at this moment, I am the first-string female. I gave up my childhood for this. I deserve this.

"At Intensive, you are expected to continue to prove yourself. Your ranking may change due to your performance." She clears her throat and looks me in the eyes. "Ivory, this school has a long history of Victors, even more so female. We have the most female victors out of every preparatory in this district. People are doubting you because you are young, but your rankings cannot be ignored." Head Dean Clemonte places the paper down on her desk and leans in closer. Her eyes are locked in on mine, a narrow and serious expression coating her face. "There is no room for failure. If you do not win, this will cause great shame to District 2. Do you understand?"

I take a long deep breath. I assume it was only a few seconds but to me, it feels like hours have gone by. "Yes Dean Clemonte, I understand."

All Dean Clemonte did was nod and straighten out her desk before pulling out a folder stuffed with papers. As she hands them to me I can feel my mother's death grip on my shoulder. It's not out of anger or anything, just her trying to mask her excitement for me. She can't have a beaming smile, that wouldn't be proper for this occasion. She composes herself the same way she has taught me to. Face stoic, emotions calm.

The folder of papers wasn't thick by any means, no more than ten papers with only a paragraph or two on them. All they said were "Will you volunteer in your respected order" and "Will you attend Intensive" in different ways. I was signing my way into the games, I was signing my way to becoming a victor.

"Very well Ms. Kentwell. I will send these to the mayor and have copies sent to you as well as the other institutions. You are dismissed from classes for the rest of the day so you have an opportunity to pack for Intensives. Collect your things and check out as you leave."

"Thank you for the opportunity Dean Clemonte. I will make our district proud." I stood up, as well as the rest of my family. My father is the first one to leave, walking straight out of the office and into the hallway. My mother ushers Clove and me to follow, her trailing behind us but not before thanking Dean Clemonte.

"I knew you could do it." Clove's voice is a whisper, a true whisper. Her tone was exactly what I expected though, cocky.

I nudge her a bit, she pushes back. A small giggle follows soon after, interrupted by my mother's fingers snapping once loudly to get our attention.

"Girls, knock it off." Her teeth are sneered together, her voice is a hiss. "Act like you want to go into the games, not like idiots who so happen can throw a knife."

"Yes, mother." Clove's arm moves against mine, her posture straightening up at my mom's words, but I don't move.

I keep my relaxed posture until my father enters my sight. All he does is lift his chin, and I do the same, earning a huff from my mother.

"Congratulations Ivory." My father doesn't talk much, and his voice is very stern. He used to be a bit more open but once he got promoted to Captain he stopped talking. He has seen so many things he isn't allowed to talk about, so he just stopped talking. "May the odds be ever in your favor."

I can feel my cheeks tense, a smile spreading across my face. "Thank you."

My mother clears her throat and smiles. "Well, let's go- Alister! You're leaving?"

When I turn back around, my father is out the door. "I'm going back to base. It's a busy time." He doesn't even turn around to call back at us. He's in a rush. He didn't even change out of his uniform to come here today.

Now that I think about it, I don't see him much when he isn't wearing it. He's always coming and going.

My mother groans before straightening herself up. "That's fine. I need to get back to work anyway." She leans down and kisses Clove on the head. "Get back to class, you still have learning to do." She then looks back up at me, eyes are stern and almost angry. I don't know why she would be angry though, I just made her dreams come true. "Go home. Pack your bag in under an hour then go straight to studying. We'll celebrate tonight so you can leave early tomorrow morning."

She places her hands on my shoulders and kisses my cheek. "I'm very proud of you darling. Our family will gain so much from this."

A small smile spreads across my face, boasting with pride. "Thank you, mother."

She pats my shoulder then turns to the main entrance. No more goodbyes, no more "I love you", just me, left alone to clean out my locker and to continue studying.

••••••

Series master list

#finnick odair #finnick odair x reader #finnick odair smut #finnick x annie #finnick x reader #finnick imagine #finnick x oc #revengeorrevolution #azawrites #thg finnick #clove kentwell x reader #clove kentwell #katniss and peeta #hunger games finnick #the hunger games

26 notes · View notes

naryrising · 1 year

Note

Hi there! I'm sorry if you've answered this before, but how did you get involved volunteering with AO3, and what's it like? I'm a current MLIS student and it's something I'm interested in doing in the future. Love your blog!!

I got involved in volunteering with AO3 in 2010, when you could get involved by saying "Hi, I'm interested in helping out" to the people you probably already knew from other fandom spaces, and they would give you some work to do. It was much a smaller team then and there was enough of everything to do that basically anyone who wanted to help out could do what they felt like working on. So I can't really recommend my way of getting involved, as it doesn't exist anymore.

But if you do want to get involved, keep an eye on when recruitment opens up for various teams. This will always be posted in multiple places: the news page, AO3's official twitter and tumblr accounts, and the Transformative Works volunteer page. Pick whichever one appeals to you/is easiest for you to keep up with, and keep watch on that. Pretty much every month there will be some team that's recruiting (other than in December, we don't recruit in December). Some large teams (like tag wrangling and translation) typically recruit about 3 to 4 times a year, but they often have specific things they're looking for, such as particular language skills, familiarity with specific fandoms, etc. Smaller teams may only recruit once a year.

If you see a position you would be interested in, jump on it and apply quickly. Applications are almost always capped (for instance, will close after 50 applications are received, or whatever number the committee is able to review), so if you take a few days to think about it, you may miss your chance.

The first secret I'll tell you is, once you're involved, it's much easier to find other ways to be involved. So if you really want to be, idk, on the Open Doors team, but they aren't currently recruiting or you don't manage to apply in time, try applying for Support. If you want to do graphic design but what's open is tag wrangling, apply for tag wrangling. Now, I'm not suggesting you apply for something just because you want to jump ship to another team as soon as possible, or for something you're going to dislike doing - that will just make people annoyed, and won't be a good experience for you either. But what I mean is, internal movement around various committees can happen much more easily than external recruitment, and often outside of regular recruitment rounds. For my part, the Support team recruits externally once a year, usually in spring, but if someone who's already gone through training as a tag wrangler and has been successfully doing that for a few months comes and talks to me about their interest in also trying Support, I'll likely be willing to take them on outside of regular recruitment season. Familiarity with one team's processes and procedures helps make you a better deal for another team, if you've already proven you can do the type of work we do, and other chairs are willing to vouch for your reliability/enthusiasm/ability to get along with others.

The second secret I'll tell you is that the most important characteristic for a volunteer, and the most impossible to train for, is time/energy/willingness to sit down and do the (sometimes unfun, often unrecognized and unrewarded) work. In my position as Support chair, I can look for people who have, say, previous tech support experience, and that's great, they probably have useful knowledge they would bring to the role. But knowing whether they have the right temperament to do a part-time job without extrinsic motivation (no pay; no boss standing over your shoulder to make you work) is more important. I can teach people the technical knowledge they need to have. I can't give more time, motivation, or energy to someone who doesn't have the personal headspace necessary to come home after work/school and sit down and do more work. So if you are interviewing for a volunteer position, the thing you most need to convince them on is your willingness and enthusiasm to do the work. Some things I look for include: does the person reply promptly to emails? Do they follow instructions well? Do they show up on time for interviews/training, or do they communicate with me if they need to reschedule to another time? Do they complete requested tasks in the requested time? All of those tend to be promising signs that someone is likely enthusiastic and responsible enough for a position like this.

#nary speaks

31 notes · View notes

jackawful · 1 year

Text

So we all know that Grocery Stores Bad, right? Like second maybe to housing, food is one of the basic things people need to live that currently costs money, and sometimes a lot of money, and that's pretty ethically fucked up. But there are plenty of ways around this, both through the state and outside of it, and I think it's worth talking about. I've especially noticed that folks raised middle-class & folks who have leftist sympathies but currently lucrative jobs have trouble with this, so I put together a handy guide.

Ways to Fight The Commodification Of Food And Also Eat For Free:

Research, utilize, and support your local food banks! Plenty of food banks get funding based on how many people use them, so by getting what you can from a food bank, you're usually helping them stay afloat. Some food banks are means-tested, especially the ones that get federal funding, but often the coolest volunteers will help you wiggle around a way to present your household finances that'll let you qualify (not fraud, mind - just different ways to present the same situation) or not require paystubs/proof of (no) income. Plenty of food banks are not means-tested. Try to find secular food banks, and failing that, low-pressure religious food banks can be great too. Often the "shopping" experience feels a little bit like a food scavenger hunt & they often get fun weird stuff that grocery stores couldn't sell enough of. Consider donating the money you would've budgeted for groceries if you have spare cash, or volunteering if you have spare time.

Check to see if you qualify for food stamps, and apply. Each state administers EBT differently, and will have different rules, but actually taking the step of signing up and de-stigmatizing the use of EBT when you talk to others is important. I've seen too many people assume they made too much money to qualify, miss out on benefits for months, and then get a fair amount when they do. If you wind up consistently having extra SNAP dollars, consider using them on shelf-stable emergency food or (and you're technically not supposed to do this) giving away staples to projects under number 4 based on community need. If you're in a state where benefits don't roll over month-to-month, do a big shopping trip or go to a take-and-bake restaurant like Papa Murphy's on the last day of the month so your excess dollars don't disappear.

Dumpster dive! Every city and state has different laws and regulations on this, and you'll have to decide how to engage with those. Sometimes just asking employees is good - oftentimes especially places that have ready-made food, like pizza and donut shops, differ on both corporate policy on end-of-day disposal and individual employee convictions. Be mindful of padlocks and "no trespassing" signs. For grocery stores, be mindful of expiration dates and packaging conditions. Dumpster diving for food is a thing that takes a lot of personal risk assessment, and especially if you intend to distribute the food to other people, it's important to know what condition that food is in and what risks may come with eating it, BUT generally you're pretty likely to find good quality stuff. Which, speaking of distributing to others, brings me to:

Other free food projects! Food Not Bombs is the big notorious one, but plenty of cities have similar projects that work on similar models (PDX, for example, has a group that broke off so they could serve non-vegan dumpster'd food). Freeboxes and Little Free Libraries often have food pantries for shelf-stable food, and part of the pandemic mutual aid boom was the Free Fridge project. As with food banks, if no secular projects exist in your area, finding the lowest-pressure religious option in your area is a solid route (Sikh Gurdwaras are usually best, Salvation Army worst, imo). Stuff like this is often lowest barrier to entry of the things on this list, and also easiest to be both a contributor and a recipent of the free food. Google is your friend here, but also, these are things that are comparatively easy to start if you don't have resources in your area - don't be afraid to reach out to more established projects nearby to ask about how they got started!

Grow or forage your own food! As opposed to the last thing, this one is pretty high barrier IMO, involving either having land to tend (owned by you, used with permission, or guerilla gardened) or becoming good at plant identification. Honestly, though, you'd be surprised at how many of thr plants around us are edible and tasty - I just had my first acorn muffins this year and they're great! Checking into native plants and low-effort gardening and compost systems and foraging laws and processing what you get can be labor-intensive, so usually I reccomend people pick one familiar thing to start: blackberries, walnuts, acorns, dandelion, even urban fruit trees. This is another thing where knowing your local laws and assessing risk becomes important, but on top of that, connect with local indigenous groups and learn how to respect the land you're engaging with

I'm not mentioning buying local or CSAs or farmers markets here because while a lot of that stuff can be good, it still costs money, and I firmly believe food should be free. That said, you don't have to become a full freegan overnight, or ever, to take these steps. Each thing I've listed is its whole own rabbit hole of research for you to do, especially because all of them will look different in different places.

Ultimately, though, every bit of free food you get or help others get is a load off your wallet and helps build an alternative food system. No one person is going to be able to abolish grocery stores and institute universal free food, but if everyone does what they can to get less money involved in their own food consumption, that makes our non-monetary food systems more robust and resilient. Everything I've mentioned here is also what people turn to during natural disasters or supply chain collapse, and it's worth building these systems up ahead of time so that they're more able to handle the shock of increased demand.

Eat free food. Help other people eat free food. Fight the idea that this should be tied to your income, give back where and when you can, and encourage the people in your life to reduce their dependance on the grocery system.

50 notes · View notes

lightningonatether · 1 year

Note

Plushie AU:

Punz is going to declaw Sam??? Sam is going to lose bits of fingers from that (medically, cat's claws are so long that in order to "properly" declaw them, you have to take them back to what is basically the first knuckle. So Sam is going to not only lose his nails, but also bits of his fingers!)

yup!!!! it's the most gruesome threat Sam gets, so honestly, he's getting off easy in comparison to what q did to dream. in punz's eyes anyway. punz isn't one for targeted, planned violence like q. he does what gets the job done easiest. so precise torture with a whole array of tools isn't what he's gonna do. just a punch, or kick, or shock collar, stuff that doesn't get blood all over the place.

previous ask I answered mentioned treating Sam like an actual pet. punz will Definitely do that as well. dehumanization is easy when you don't think highly of the person in the first place. plus, wasn't *Sam* the one to volunteer himself up? he was the one to persuade punz he should be kept alive, and he did that by offering himself up to Be A pet. punz knows it was a spur of the moment, desperate offer, but he constantly shoves that back in Sam's face. besides, submitting to a few humiliating things is better than getting the shit beat out of him, isn't it?

(it's discouraged now, because it hurts the cat, but declawing used to be something pet owners did to prevent their cats claws from being a bother. it's within punz's right to do that to sam. whether he does it on just one finger, or all, or one paw over the rest depends on how Sam behaves. sam's probably pathetic and whimpery enough to get away with just one or two fingers)

#asks #plushie au #c!punz #c!sam #torture

40 notes · View notes

ghostinthelibrarywrites · 2 years

Note

For the made up title "I hate you... But I love you too"

It's the title from my very first fic 20 years ago or something like that. (It was Beyblade Back than. I think it was the only fic where I First thought about a title and then about the fandom and pairing. I never ended it. But it was fun)

Can't wait to hear what you come up with in the witcher universe

This title makes me think Yennskier, so:

Modern with magic AU where Jaskier and Yennefer are both in long-term relationships with Geralt, but can't stand each other. The only time they've ever been in a room together for more than five minutes without getting into a fight, Jaskier was unconscious.

Something happens to Geralt. Maybe he makes the wrong enemy on a contract or gets captured by someone who wants to use him to make more witchers. Whatever it is, Yennefer and Jaskier come to the horrifying realization that they're going to have to work together to get him back.

For Unspecified Plot Reasons, the easiest way to get close to the person who might have Geralt captive is to go undercover as a suburban couple, because if I'm going to do tropey enemies-to-lovers, I'm going to go all out with the tropes.

Jaskier throws himself into the role of Suburban Husband with aplomb, as he does all his performances. He learns to grill (but not well.) He volunteers to coach the neighborhood T-ball team, even though he's never played T-ball in his life and has to Google what it is. He starts mowing the lawn daily, until he nearly runs over his own foot and Yennefer makes the lawnmower vanish for everyone's safety.

Yennefer doesn't adapt as well. She's not very good at playing the Normal Suburban Thirtysomething, what with her violet eyes and general air of scariness, so she doesn't do a very good job at blending in. This causes some friction, as she thinks that Jaskier isn't taking their mission to get Geralt back seriously, while he thinks she's going to blow their cover.

But much to Yennefer's chagrin, once they get to know each other, they start to genuinely like each other. They bond over what blithering idiots the local Homeowners' Association are, as well as how Jaskier was robbed at the neighborhood chili cook off. They naturally have to do things like canoodle in public to satisfy the nosy neighbors, because what would a fake marriage AU be without canoodling for the ruse?

To Yennefer's even further chagrin, she realizes that at some point, she's fallen in love with Jaskier.

They fall into bed together. For the ruse, of course.

Eventually, they figure out who has Geralt captive, and Jaskier probably gets kidnapped too, because what's a Yennskier fic without Jaskier being the damsel in distress at least once, and Yennefer is able to save both of them.

Geralt is mostly unharmed and has no idea how in the span of weeks, Jaskier and Yennefer went from being mortal enemies to being married (they forget to tell him that it was all for show) but he decides to just roll with it.

Jaskier insists on calling Yennefer his wife, even once they're all home safe. She pretends to hate it. She doesn't.

#the witcher #yennskier #jaskier x yennefer #asks #ask games

51 notes · View notes