#source appendix

[lunarreign24]

The book I wrote is actually on Amazon now! It described issues I've noticed in the pharmacy through the lens of my CS degree

It's also that book I talked about with design decisions specifically to screw with AI models. I'll make a video to describe it for Monday!

[blamemma]

It’s already being reported that Daniel’s suspected return is Qatar. Wonder where they got that info from….

https://twitter.com/rbr_daily/status/1696591771109634550?s=46&t=4uvR9bJ_cC8K4wWbdclEGg

Things like that should be coming from the team, not someone whose leaking private info

and this is why SOURCING is so fucking important

no one official has said that daniel will be returning at qatar, all we know currently is he wont be racing at monza. however, talks of a 6 week recovery period that people have plucked from thin air are being discussed all over twitter and so now people are "officially reporting" that daniel wont be back until qatar which is in 6 weeks time.....we don't know......and we probably wont know when he'll be back until quite last minute cause i reckon as soon as he gets the go ahead he'll be straight on a plane to where he needs to be to.....i just HATE how twitter accounts like these are treated like a reliable news source when they just spread misinformation and lies so easily.....

[anipgarden]

Ani Reviews: A Step-by-Step Guide to a Florida Native Yard

I promised you guys a review and here it is. I've never really done a book review before but I'm doing my best to make this Coherent and Helpful.

[Photo ID: a book, titled A Step-by-Step Guide to a Florida Native Yard by Ginny Stibolt and Marjorie Shropshire.]

Out of all the books I checked out from the library this round, I started with this one because it was the shortest out of all of them--if we don't count the appendix and index, its 101 pages long. You can read where I sort of live blogged a portion of this read here.

I think its a pretty good read! It's definitely a lot more relevant if you are the home owner and most directly in charge of landscaping decisions and such. It gives a bit of advice on how to handle making similar changes in an HOA neighborhood, and provides pointers and resources to other books that can also be helpful in the journey to make your landscape a wildlife-friendly habitat. It focuses on Florida specifically, as denoted by the title, and will frequently remind the reader that gardening in Florida is vastly different from gardening anywhere else. So whether you've been a Florida resident all your life, or are planning on making a move on down here, this book can be a helpful resource if you want to transform some or even all of your yard into a habitat.

After the introduction, the book is separated into seven major sections referred to as Steps. There's Assess Your Property, Plan for Drainage and Stormwater Sequestration, Install Trees, Plant Shrubs, Working with Herbaceous Plants, Build a Wild or Natural Area, and Create Spaces for Human Use. If you're more interested in one part than the others, you can definitely skip around to find what you're looking for. I will say, the Drainage and Stormwater section made my head spin a bit.

I will say this: I don't know if the writers ever fully decided if they wanted this book to be targeted towards those who are already gung-ho about native plants and itching to transform their landscape, or to people who are just beginning to dip their toe into the idea. Overall though, it was a nice and informative read, and the illustrations inside are lovely.

[master-of-the-opera-house]

.

[archiverstappen]

appendix touch ✧ max verstappen

max verstappen x ferrari! fem! reader

masterlist

the beloved ferrari heiress just had her appendix removed, and now the whole world is convinced that she's going to start an epidemic

[messages]

[instagram]

[twitter]

[instagram]

yn_ferrari

liked by maxverstappen1 and 1.735.028 others

yn_ferrari I understand that, without my agreement, my father has put out an instagram story this afternoon that makes it seem like I’m dying. This is true, I do feel like I’m dying. I’m having my appendix removed.

view all 1.832 comments

maxverstappen1 Will get that win for you 💙

↳ yn_ferrari no, thanks ❤️

↳ papaferrari Please let Carlos/Charles win for Y/N’s faster recovery 😊

username SHE’S SO UNSERIOUS 😭

oscarpiastri 🤨

↳ yn_ferrari poet of the century

alex_albon Been there, done that

↳ yn_ferrari teach me your ways, master

username THANK GOD IT’S JUST AN APPENDIX

username get well soon mother

carlossainz55 Get well soon, mi hermana 😂

↳ yn_ferrari soy lago

↳ landonorris stop copying me 😒

charles_leclerc Fake 🤭

↳ yn_ferrari i’ll pinch your appendix with my bare hands so you’d know how it feels

↳ alexandrasaintmleux 😨

↳ yn_ferrari look away, my love 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩

scuderiaferrari Get well soon, Boss ❤️

[messages]

[instagram]

[twitter]

[instagram]

scuderiaferrari

liked by papaferrari and 2.736.991 others

scuderiaferrari Patient 0, Patient 1, and Charles 😄 The gang is finally back in a land down under 🦘

tagged yn_ferrari, carlossainz55, charles_leclerc

view all 2.155 comments

username Y/N YOU BETTER STAY AWAY FROM CHARLES 😭

papaferrari My children 🧒🧒🧒

username favorite trio ever

username the fact that we won't be seeing them together again next year 😞

yn_ferrari admin... what's with the caption? 🙂

↳ scuderiaferrari Hi boss, please don't fire me

charles_leclerc I'm a survivor ❤️‍🩹

↳ yn_ferrari you're next 👹

↳ papaferrari Don't say that kind of thing, I can't have all of my children go through the same surgery three weeks in a row

↳ charles_leclerc 🤪🤪🤪 yn_ferrari

↳ carlossainz55 We'll try again next time yn_ferrari

username she's got that appendix touch, because every appendix that she touches starts to burst 🤷‍♀️

↳ yn_ferrari HELP 💀

[twitter]

[instagram]

yn_ferrari

liked by maxverstappen1 and 3.283.332 others

yn_ferrari beyond proud of what you guys achieved today, words can't describe how i feel! and no, contrary to popular belief i had nothing to do with max's dnf 😮‍💨

ps. someone said i've got the appendix touch, soo... if you're interested just hit me up

view all 3.122 comments

maxverstappen1 🙍‍♂️

maxverstappen1 Enjoy it while it lasts, Schat 😑

↳ yn_ferrari I will 😽

redbullracing You're temporarily banned from our garage🙏

↳ yn_ferrari I DIDNT DO ANYTHING?!

↳ redbullracing A source spotted you touching the rear wing of Max's car 💔

↳ yn_ferrari THAT'S A LIE.... scuderiaferrari STEP UP?

↳ scuderiaferrari Sorry, we're too focused on celebrating P1 and P2

↳ mercedesamgf1 Wow, can't relate scuderiaferrari

username why is there a video of you running down the pitlane after race, pls explain 😭

↳ yn_ferrari i was watching the race with max at red bull’s hospitality 🏃‍♀️💨

carlossainz55 Us 1 - Appendicitis 0 🍾

↳ yn_ferrari yes sir 🫡

charles_leclerc Can I have my appendix removed too? papaferrari

↳ papaferrari No

landonorris Do mine next, I need to win

alex_albon Can I have my appendix removed again?

↳ yn_ferrari control your man lilymhe 😭

↳ lilymhe bffr 🤬

username FORZA FERRARI SIEMPRE

↳ yn_ferrari rrrAAAGHHHH 🐎🐎🐎🐎🐎🐎🐎

scuderiaferrari We're so happy, our appendix literally burst 🥹

↳ username new merch idea?

↳ scuderiaferrari Noted 📝

papaferrari Dinner on me tonight 😎 carlossainz55 charles_leclerc

↳ charles_leclerc Finally

↳ carlossainz55 On my way!

↳ maxverstappen1 Can I come too?

↳ papaferrari I guess so, Y/N would be mad if I didn't invite you

↳ charles_leclerc Max got a pity invite 🤭

↳ yn_ferrari KEEP MY BOYFRIEND'S NAME OUT OF YOUR F-ING MOUTH

↳ lewishamilton Can i come? 🤔

↳ carlossainz55 My wound is still fresh...

↳ yn_ferrari LET HIM HAVE THIS ONE, SIR. WE'LL SEE YOU NEXT YEAR 🤗

--

pictures (c) to pinterest and instagram

[beesmygod]

"YOU HUNTED" has been updated!

"you hunted" is a work-in-progress "bloodborne" lore explainer featuring 161 pages of analysis that makes a conscious effort to separate facts from speculation. it is intended to be read by both "bloodborne" superfans and those with a passing interest in the series with the hopes of entertaining them or making them laugh at how insane the game is. it is FREE TO READ!!! i want you to read and enjoy it.

NEW TO THIS EDITION:

a table of contents!

two new chapters revolving around the exploration of isz and loran!

a section describing the process of analyzing lore!

cross-references!

CHANGES TO THIS EDITION:

overall formatting has been improved and made more consistent/less fucked up.

the glossary has been moved to the appendix.

i removed several parts where i appeared to be talking completely out of my ass.

removed several "who gives a shit" factoids that were clogging up an already bloated document.

light edits for readability/flow in "finished" chapters.

i need to "complete" this still but: i've started adding sources to the images i pick up that aren't from the wikis instead of being lazy and slimy and just lifting them lol. i didn't think this would become this when i started this document.

"you hunted" can be downloaded for free from my personal website. it's only a .pdf, so it should not trigger any weird virus protection.

if you enjoyed this, consider throwing me a tip on ko-fi. this stuff takes a lot of time and effort to make, and the only thing that can make me go faster is having enough money to buy tacos.

please read and enjoy my insane posts. thank you.

[xoxoauntscripty]

*TW for amateur surgery*

Okay. It's 1942.

There's a US submarine, USS Silversides, operating in HIGHLY dangerous Japanese waters.

And one poor bastard, some machinists mate, gets a case of acute appendicitis

They can't radio for an airlift because the Japanese will find them

But they don't have a surgeon on board.

The only medical person they have is a fucking pharmacist's mate

As in, a pill counter guy

As in, the cold and flu and small stitches guy

Not the "cut open a machinists mate on a moving submarine" guy

Not even 3 steps below that guy

But he's all they have, and if they do nothing, this guy is gonna fucking die.

So this motherfucker

Risks a court martial

To do surgery

Without an OR

With bent fucking spoons as makeshift retractors

And the patient's coworkers as assistants

He somehow miraculously fucking gives the dude spinal anesthesia, correctly

Opens the abdomen

Cuts out the appendix (somehow without rupturing it, which would have killed the guy)

Almost kills everybody with ether (because of course he does, it's incredibly dangerous for everyone in the room)

Identifies a MAJOR fucking bleed

Can't find the source of the bleed, so he *runs the bowel like a fucking surgeon*

Figures out it's a clamp that slipped

Does fucking vascular surgery to fix the bleed

Closes the guy up

And the patient fucking lives

This fucking completely untrained pharmacist's mate

Performs a major surgery

Underwater

On a moving ship

Without antibiotics

And saves a motherfucking life

(And manages the patient through multiple rounds of getting depth charged by a Japanese destroyer, because war)

The fucking patient is back on duty less than a week after the surgery.

So tip out a fucking glass to Pharmacist's Mate Thomas A Moore, who risked a murder and professional suicide

And possibly had

The biggest balls under the waves.

[dostoyevsky-official]

Letter to President Biden and Vice President Harris

We are 99 American physicians, surgeons, nurse practitioners, nurses, and midwives who have volunteered in the Gaza Strip since October 7, 2023. Combined, we spent 254 weeks volunteering in Gaza’s hospitals and clinics. We worked with various nongovernmental organizations and the World Health Organization in hospitals and clinics throughout the Strip. In addition to our medical and surgical expertise, many of us have a public health background, as well as experience working in humanitarian and conflict zones, including Ukraine during the brutal Russian invasion. Some of us are veterans and reservists. We are a multifaith and multiethnic group. None of us support the horrors committed on October 7 by Palestinian armed groups and individuals in Israel. [...] This letter collects and summarizes our own experiences and direct observations in Gaza. The letter is accompanied by a detailed appendix summarizing the publicly available information from media, humanitarian, and academic sources on key aspects of Israel’s invasion of Gaza. This letter and the appendix show probative evidence that the human toll in Gaza since October is far higher than is understood in the United States. It is likely that the death toll from this conflict is already greater than 118,908, an astonishing 5.4% of Gaza’s population. With only marginal exceptions, everyone in Gaza is sick, injured, or both. This includes every national aid worker, every international volunteer, and probably every Israeli hostage: every man, woman, and child. While working in Gaza we saw widespread malnutrition in our patients and our Palestinian healthcare colleagues. Every one of us lost weight rapidly in Gaza despite having privileged access to food and having taken our own supplementary nutrient-dense food with us. [...] Children are universally considered innocents in armed conflict. However, every single signatory to this letter saw children in Gaza who suffered violence that must have been deliberately directed at them. Specifically, every one of us who worked in an emergency, intensive care, or surgical setting treated pre-teen children who were shot in the head or chest on a regular or even a daily basis. It is impossible that such widespread shooting of young children throughout Gaza, sustained over the course of an entire year is accidental or unknown to the highest Israeli civilian and military authorities.

[mandalhoerian]

(3) 🦭 signed, sealed, delivery pending...

The seal you rescued coming back to the same cove might be momentary serendipity meant to be wow-ed at from afar like one does a documentary, but you're determined to take it as an opportunity of a lifetime to gain his trust and prove yourself as a Disney princess. He's going to become your friend. Period.

genre: fluff, comedy | word count: 6K | read on ao3

< previous | next >

note: i need you guys to see this to visualize what the reader does when the grinch gets mentioned. i almost burst my appendix laughing at it idc if its not funny. please enjoy!!!!

You almost get grounded. For till college.

But being the center of attention in your friend group and the story of a wound that will leave the coolest scar are totally worth the perma ticket booth sentence (jail).

It's not all that bad. It's just that, instead of loading cargo or directing people or helping out the passengers, you got sentenced to boredom, stuck behind a window, taking payment and handing out change and never allowed to leave. Plus, everyone knows you. Which means that no, the ticket master metaphorically posing with a Yu-Gi-Oh duel disk can't give discounts to the old lady who brings you a crocheted hat, or to the fisherman who promises to bring a fresh catch of mackerel to your family's kitchen, or to the little girl who wants to go see the seals, has no cash and can only pay with a bag of homemade cookies...

Speaking of seals, you go back to that beach, a week after the incident when your grounding is more flexible.

But of course, there's no trace of that adorable rascal. You feel a little sad, a little disappointed, a little under the influence of the magical encounter that had you daydreaming you could be Snow White. Then again, you wouldn't want him to hang around in fishing areas. You hope he's doing alright, somewhere, hopefully, not getting caught in nets anymore.

Elias tells you that the seal colony on the islet has forms during breeding and pupping season each year during late spring and early summer, and when he hears you recounting the event and describing the seal, you find out that the one you saved is not one of them.

Apparently, pups are tiny. The one you rescued was either a juvenile or a sub-adult, though the gender is still unclear. You're a little stunned, having expected to have rescued a baby, not an adolescent. Elias explains how the rookery is a nursery area, and females tend to congregate there to give birth. Male seals are territorial and competitive, and often live in the surrounding waters. So maybe that seal was a male weaned off of the same rookery. If you had saved a female, the chances of ever seeing her again would have been higher, since they return to the same rookeries and stay there for a couple months. Males, on the other hand...

Well, at the end of the day, he's probably long gone.

Wrong.

You eventually encounter him on the same small cove the following week. In broad daylight this time.

Dad has hired a couple of staff members to help out, so you have a lot more free time to enjoy your friends and explore the archipelago. Despite the time restrictions. So, even though going back to where you met the seal for the first time was born out of hope to see him again at first, it's also about conveniennce with how close it is to home unironically, and therefore, not violating curfew rules.

So, it's just another day with your picnic basket and beach towel, heading out to the shore in your shorty wetsuit. You have a novel to finish, some music to listen to, snacks to munch on, and the promise of long-awaited solitude to savor.

You've just set up your blanket and opened the book when a loud bark scares the shit out of you.

Startled, you whip around to find the source of the sound — and gasp as a large, gray shape emerges from the water, lumbering towards you with clumsy bounces that echo with the 'boing, boing, boing' sound effect in your head, dragging its blubbery body across the sand and stopping at the edge of your blanket.

You can't quite comprehend what's happening right now, transfixed by the cute, pink tongue peeking out of its mouth as it tries to catch its breath.

It's the exact same seal from before, his familiar markings and the faint scars of the netting you untangled him from unmistakable.

The same seal that was supposed to have swam away to freedom. The same seal that's supposed to be a wild, feral, unpredictable animal is here, looking at you, waiting for something, making an occasional huff and snuffle the more you stay unresponsive.

You're frozen in place, unable to react, mind racing, trying to make sense of the situation. A part of you wonders if this is a dream, but the gritty sensation of the sand in your flippers that reminds you of your discomfort and the warm rays of the sun on your skin assure you otherwise.

Finally, the seal seems to grow impatient and shuffles closer, nuzzling his whiskered nose against your knee, the gesture somehow both gentle and insistent, coaxing you to react. His fur is damp and cool, and you swear his dark, round, limpid black eyes are staring straight into your soul, a knowing intelligence lurking within his soft, expressive depths.

"There's no way," you gawk, not knowing where to put your hands and they flail for a couple seconds in excitement.

He's approached you willingly, showing no signs of distress or aggression, and in fact, he seems oddly not on guard. He's not a pup, and yet he's displaying behavior that's more suited to domesticated dogs, not a marine mammal that's supposed to avoid humans. Seals are curious creatures by nature, and encounters with people aren't unheard of, but this level of familiarity is unusual considering the traumatic circumstances under which the two of you initially met.

"Hello, hi, oh my god, hi, hello???" You try cautiously, not daring to reach out and touch him, but keeping your tone soothing and welcoming. You're actually going to scare him off if you let out the squeals roaring inside. "How are you doing, buddy? Is that really you?"

The seal's whiskers twitch in response to the sound of your words, his head cocked to one side in a manner that suggests attentive listening. It's almost as if he recognizes your presence, and that thought sends a shivery thrill through you.

"You remember me?" you ask, a tentative smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. Your heart leaps as his head waves up and down. You choose to take that gesture as a yes instead of the air sniffing to vibe-check you that it actually is. "That's so sweet of you!"

A low, rumbling noise reverberates from deep within the seal's nose, and you can't help the giggle that escapes you. It sounds like a cross between a snort and a grumble, a strangely endearing combination that's distinctly his own.

"I'm not sure what to make of this," you continue, feeling more at ease in his company, despite the absurdity of the situation. "What are you doing here? Saw me and wanted to hang out?"

His only answer is a single, melodious yowl, followed by a series of chirps that resemble the playful squeaks of a dolphin. You can't help the warmth that spreads through you at the sound, a sudden fondness for the strange, gentle creature washing over you as he flops closer to lie just beside your blanket like you two are friends sitting next to each other, rolling onto his belly and stretching his front flippers in a leisurely, cat-like stretch. You're not a trained zoologist, but his behavior is clearly indicative of trust, and that's enough to convince you that the connection you feel isn't imagined. This is the most peculiar, wonderful surprise you've ever had. And the best part is that, in the middle of a summer vacation that had been filled with ups and downs, you have made an unlikely friend...

Oh, he's actually sunbathing. With you.

And his coat looks healthy. That's good.

The way his head looks when he closes his eyes... Like a content bean, a happy, satisfied little guy. So cute.

God, you can't pet him.

The seal expert in the island is Elias, who works with the conservation team on the rookery islet. Maybe someday, if things come to that, he could guide you, but for now, you're not risking harming him in any way. Especially not after rescuing him from a near-death experience.

He opens his eyes when he hears scratching. Particularly, you scratching along the seams of the bandages on your forearm. You haven't realized you had been unconsciously picking on them because of the itch till the moment the seal's penetrating stare burns on the area. How peculiar. He seems to possess object permanence regarding the injury and understand the concept of wounds, or at least the effects of them. Or are you delusional?

"Curious, huh," you say, pulling your hand back and flexing the muscles in the arm to relieve some of the irritation. "You remember this as well? It's your love bite, bud."

The seal makes a soft, inquisitive grunt, and then begins to inch his way across the sand to make it back to the sea, and a disappointment that makes your face fall down settles upon you at the prospect of him leaving already.

"Oh..." you mumble. "Leaving so soon?"

But the seal doesn't seem to be departing. Instead, he dives gracefully beneath the surface of the water, disappearing from view. Confused but intrigued, you remain seated, watching the rippling waves with bated breath. After several long, anxious moments, a silvery fish bursts forth from the depths, thrashing wildly in the seal's jaws. He bites down fiercely, severing the life of the fish in an instant and sending a spurt of blood into the salty brine. Then, he swims back to shore and boing-boing-boings over to deposit the lifeless prey at your feet, his tail slapping eagerly against the wet ground, dark, round, expressive wet eyes shining bright with pride and excitement.

It's a gift. You're certain of that. A token of gratitude, perhaps, or a symbol of camaraderie.

"Oh, thank you," you say, genuinely touched by the gesture. "You're such a gentleman. But I'm not hungry, so... Actually, do you want to share it together? Would that be okay?" You pause, studying the seal's reactions carefully. "Yeah, that's what we're doing."

With that, you reach for the fish, its cold, slippery scales slick against your palm, and break it in half with a fruit knife you brought along in your picnic basket, setting one portion aside and offering the other to the seal. He sniffs at the proffered meal, whiskers quivering, before opening his mouth to accept it. You watch in fascination as his powerful teeth tear into the flesh, marveling at the delicate balance of predator and companion that exists between the two of you. There's something about sharing a meal with a wild animal who caught it for you in the first place, that feels sacred. Ancient, and special.

"You know what, you can have my half, I’m really full," you concede, not being able to resist his eager gluttony. You decide to share with him since he shared with you, as well. "Sorry if I'm not much of a huntress, but here's a little treat that'll blow your mind. Hopefully." You start rummaging through your belongings, searching the contents of the basket. "Let's see, let's see... Aha! Here it is!"

When you turn around, you nearly jump out of your skin to find the seal right there behind you, looking at the basket curiously. He seems very interested in the container. Maybe he's figured out it contains food, somehow. Could seals smell through a plastic lid?

"Woah, woah, hey, easy," you murmur softly, reaching up to gently boop him on the nose and watch in fascination as his entire head disappears by sinking into his body at the contact.

Oh!

Oh no.

You're going to die. Cuteness overload. Right here, in front of him, and on this day. It's like his skull has disappeared and his blubbery neck absorbed his face into his torso. If the purpose is to protect himself from predators, that's not the vibe the gesture is giving. At all.

Holding the container of sashimi, you let him take a peek at the contents. When his nose starts wiggling and his tail starts flapping, you can't help the grin that breaks out. He seems to have understood that whatever is inside is edible, and his eagerness is infectious, sending a jolt of glee and satisfaction coursing through you at the thought of providing him with a new experience.

"Look, look, this is called sashimi," you explain, selecting a small piece of raw salmon and holding it out on your palm. The seal sniffs at the morsel tentatively, his nostrils flaring, before he darts his tongue out and wraps it around the slice of fish, pulling it into his mouth.

He's so gentle with it too, not even nipping at the flesh of the hand that's feeding him. Just a soft, light brush of his tongue, and a content, satisfied swallow, and the taste must have been to his liking, because he emits a low, throaty squeak of pleasure, a sound that sends a warm, fuzzy feeling fluttering through your chest. Has he been socialized at some point in the past to know how to take food from humans, maybe by fishermen or tourists? Is he simply a naturally affectionate creature? You fully expected him to be more cautious around humans given his recent trauma, and yet, here he is, demonstrating an openness that defies all expectations and assumptions.

"Well, you've got good taste," you remark with a chuckle, watching as his tail thumps excitedly on the sand, signaling for another serving. The sight of him making a 'begging' pose in the most literal sense melting your heart. "Fine, you can have it all. But only because you're so charming."

One by one, you feed the remaining pieces of sashimi to him, fascinated by the feel of his smooth, pink velvety tongue against your fingertips each time he accepts a bite one would being licked by a cat or a dog. His enthusiasm is contagious, and you can't help the laughter that bubbles up in your own throat, a bright, sparkling sound that rings across the deserted stretch of coastline and makes him perk up and look up at you, head tilted in curiosity, a sort of startled, wide-eyed, puppy-dog stare.

"Aw, sorry," you apologize, realizing that the volume of your laughter might have overwhelmed him. "I'm just happy. Happy to be here, with you. This is the best beach date I've ever had."

You watch, in real time, as the seal sputters from his nose, the recoil of his jiggling body rocking him backward and to the side as he avoids eye contact in a manner that parallels dogs when they’re being recorded, and finally decides to completely flee back to the sea.

You blink, speechless, trying to figure out what you did wrong.

"...Was my laugh that ugly?"

You are convinced this is a good idea.

You’ve seen the TikToks. You know the method. You’ve watched professionals do this with thousand-pound animals that could kick them into the next dimension, and it works.

And sure, your friend is technically a seal and not a horse, but the principle is the same. Desensitization. You introduce scary things in a safe, controlled way, and boom — no more spooky, jumpy reactions.

It’s foolproof.

If it has to be something like doing crazy dances with a plastic bag or throwing a duvet over their heads to trigger less anxiety, then so be it. There is logic and science behind this method, even though it requires you to humiliate yourself in front of a wild animal and hope that there isn't a secret camera hidden somewhere recording you acting like a clown and saving the clip online to become meme fuel.

"Alright, bud," you announce, stretching your arms like a coach psyching up a particularly useless team. "Today's the day."

If you expect anything resembling acknowledgment, the seal gives none; instead, he seems content to continue nibbling delicately at a lump of kelp, ignoring you completely while reclining on his side like a Victorian noblewoman on a fainting couch atop a sun-baked rock. His sleek gray coat glistens brightly as he sprawls across the stone, flippers twitching lazily as his attention wanders in search of tasty tidbits amongst the fronds of green algae still trailing from his mouth.

Seeing him this relaxed sends a wave of relief through you. Your relationship has improved exponentially since that first day the two of you officially met. He's grown noticeably more accustomed to interacting with you without showing any signs of fear or discomfort. You're no longer regarded with suspicion or alarm whenever you approach — instead, he welcomes you, greeting your presence with cheerful squeaks and soft snorts that always send warm fuzzies flying all across your cheeks. Not that you keep score, but lately, he's been initiating more interactions than before, nudging you with his nose, pawing gently at your leg to draw your attention, even resting beside you whenever he gets the chance, seeking comfort in your closeness in ways that leave you giddy with happiness.

"AAAA!" you shout, stretching your arms in a T-pose to make yourself look bigger.

The seal violently flops to the side, rolling down the small incline of the surrounding rocks like a giant, damp potato.

"Oh my god!" You rush to help him with choked laughter, kneeling at his side while he struggles to get his balance and reclines up on his flippers.

He shoots you the ugliest death glare.

"I'm sorry," you say, forcing your lips into a thin line to hold back your smile. "Was I too scary?"

The seal huffs sharply in response, causing a few loose strands of hair to fall over your face from the wind. Then he reaches his head forward, and slowly, deliberately, rubs his cheek against your bandaged forearm before flopping back down. It takes you several seconds to recover from the attack of cuteness, by which time the seal has rolled around again in the direction opposite of you so that only his round, puffy butt faces toward where you kneel in the sand.

Pouting. Definitely pouting. It's so adorable, did he get embarrassed? Ahhhhh!

You spend the next few minutes running around the seal and making unexpected movements like a drunk ostrich on sugar rush just to see how he'd react, following that up with a sorcerer in the middle of a magic attack combo with flicking jazz hands right to his face, then re-enacting that one scene from How the Grinch Stole Christmas in which the titular character tries to scare of Cindy Lou by barking at her face acting crazy in a little step forward-and-back dance with claw-hands, looking like you were about to attack him but faking him out at the last second.

Needless to say, you get nothing other than keen interest like you were a jester and he was the king sitting in the audience taking great pleasure in your performance, full-on radiating medieval royalty urge to always have entertainment while eating.

You decide to change tactics. Step one: Introduce the Object.

From your backpack, you pull out a bright blue towel and give it a dramatic shake.

“See this?” You wave it like a deranged matador. “It’s just a towel. Harmless. Normal. Not scary.”

His whiskers twitch. His head tilts slightly, like you’ve just shown him a complex tax form.

You wave it again, closer this time. “Ooooooo, look, it moooves. It flaps. It’s just fabric.”

Still no reaction.

Encouraged, you take a step closer, still waving the towel like you’re trying to summon a demon. “See? It’s fine. Totally normal. You don’t have to be scared.”

The seal makes a noise — something between a huff and a chirp.

Then he snorts.

You freeze.

Did… did this seal just laugh at you?

No. That’s ridiculous. Animals don’t laugh. You’re being paranoid.

Step Two: Make Contact.

“I’m just gonna touch you with it a little, okay?” you say in your best soothing horse-trainer voice.

He does not, in fact, agree to this.

But he also doesn’t move away as you gently drape the towel over his back.

Success!

Or at least, it is success, right up until you start rubbing the towel over him like you’ve seen in the videos, mimicking the slow, rhythmic motions that are supposed to be calming.

“Good boy,” you murmur, nodding approvingly. “See? Nothing to be scared of. Just a towel. A friendly, normal—”

The seal erupts.

One second, he’s still. The next, his entire body vibrates like a malfunctioning washing machine.

Then — he flops.

Not just any flop. A dramatic, full-body collapse into the sand, legs flailing, his head rolling back in what you can only describe as unhinged, wheezing laughter.

You just stand there, gripping the towel, watching this damn seal lose his mind.

He keeps snorting. His non-existent shoulders shake. He slaps the sand with one flipper, no different than an old man gasping for air between belly laughs.

You recoil. “Am I being fucking laughed at by a seal right now? Nah. Naaaah, that can't be.”

He lets out an actual honking noise.

Your face burns. “I am trying to help you, you little sea rat!”

A loud, loud crying. More slapping.

He is mocking you. This has to be mocking. Or is it that your own self-consciousness has finally manifested in the world and acquired a shape? Maybe that's why this feels like teasing; maybe you're projecting.

With a defeated sigh, you plop onto the sand beside him, still gripping the towel like it holds the last shreds of your dignity.

Well, at least you found out he is desensitized, alright. A win is a win.

The following weeks, the island's weather grows warmer. And, with the rising temperature, the seal's visits become more and more frequent, almost daily, until his company becomes a constant fixture of your free time.

It's a bizarre, inexplicable relationship that defies all reason and logic — that a seal would hop on land to come visit instead of being encountered while swimming. A wild marine mammal that should fear and distrust humans has decided to form a bond with you, seeking your presence out of his own accord, and showing an intelligence that goes beyond instinctual behavior.

At least, that's what you're inclined to believe. You're no expert. Just an observer of this delightful, unexpected friendship that has bloomed between the two of you.

You're not sure what draws him to the tiny, secluded cove where you've been meeting him, nor do you understand why he chooses to stay on the shore with you, sunbathing on the warm sands and indulging in the snacks and treats you bring him, rather than returning to the open ocean. But every time you arrive, he's there, waiting, a large, lumbering shape that barks and squeaks upon seeing you, waddling over to greet you as though you're an old friend.

His trust is a precious thing, a fragile, irreplaceable treasure that you cherish dearly. And, in return, he shows a level of affection that would put many a domestic animal to shame.

He nuzzles against your legs, rolls over to reveal his belly, and even allows you to touch and stroke the soft, supple fur on his head sometimes if he feels like it that day. It's a privilege, a gift, and you're acutely aware of the responsibility that comes with such intimacy. You handle him gently, cautiously, mindful of his comfort and well-being, and never pushing past the limits of his tolerance or patience.

You learn to read his cues, to recognize the signs of contentment and discomfort in his posture and vocalizations. When he's relaxed, his body language is loose, his limbs splayed out on the ground in a lazy, sprawling manner that suggests a deep, boneless ease. He grunts and chirps in a low, rhythmic cadence that seems to express his pleasure and satisfaction, and the sound is oddly soothing, a gentle, melodic counterpoint to the steady, pulsing rush of the waves crashing nearby. Snorts and snuffles are indicators of inquisitiveness and curiosity, while a high-pitched whistle signals excitement and happiness, often accompanied by an enthusiastic wagging of his tail that resembles the motion of a dog's. When he's upset or nervous, his entire body stiffens and he pulls away from your touch, a clear signal to give him space and respect his boundaries.

You're proud to say you haven't discovered his anger yet, but the day you walk in on a tourist group in your cove becomes the answer to your question.

This isn't the rookery. There are no guides or rangers to keep everyone in check. These tourists are on their own, exploring, and they have stumbled upon the wrong spot. They're being stupid, and the worst part is that they're not even breaking the law. The fact that the seal is in the water is enough not to be trespassing, and therefore, not punishable.

As you approach the crowd gathering around a particular spot, your heart clenches at the sight of your friend cornered into a small cave, no — more like a fissure in the rock formations that surround the cove, that reaches just ten meters from the shore.

These guys want a picture with the seal, which has gone hostile obvious from his jaw making snapping motions and is trying to dive back into the sea as far from them as possible.

It's all because he was waiting for you here.

There's nothing you can do other than run towards them. And maybe distract them by waving your arms frantically and screaming, "What the hell are you doing?! Didn't you see the sign that says this area is private?!"

You know lecturing them about how they're causing distress to the animal is futile, so, Karen-mode it is.

Surprisingly, it works, and they run off. But not before complaining and whining about how "there's no fucking harm in this".

Sure, asshole. There’s no harm in distressing the poor seal that shows obvious signs of wanting to be left alone.

After taking care of them (read: screaming at them) and calling Elias to come get rid of them, you rush back to the beach to make sure your seal is okay.

He won't look at you.

If there's anything you learned the hard way is that a wild animal never acts erratically without reason, whether it be a bird pecking insistently at a window or a rabbit darting across the road when you least expect it. So it stands to reason that if your companion completely ignores you as he makes it out of the cave and makes a beeline towards the sea, he must have a valid cause for doing so.

Maybe you were too close to these strangers, maybe your intimidation and aggression were too much for him.

You hope he knows you'd never put him in danger willingly.

"Wait," you call out after him, raising your hand above your head to attract his attention and willing your frantic heartbeat to settle back down into a normal rhythm. You don't want to frighten him further by shouting or running up behind him, chasing him down — the last thing you need is to scare him off altogether after working so hard to gain his trust.

To your amazement, he actually pauses, hovering midway between the cave and the water, hesitating, glancing warily back at you over his shoulder. It's eerie sometimes that he reacts how a human would, but also quite remarkable. You're positive it means he understands you, that your interactions carry meaning for him.

But now that he's stopped, you don't know what to say. Hey, sorry some jerks scared the shit out of you. I don't know them. Please don't think I lured them here to you.

Why would you have this conversation with a seal?

So, you walk up slowly to the spot where he still stands, and then sit down crosslegged next to him on the sandy rocks that divide land from sea, trying to appear nonthreatening and reassuring in equal measure. For several long, excruciating moments, the only sounds are the distant cries of seagulls overhead, the restless rustle of the surf rushing back and forth against the shore, and your own breathing growing faster the longer the silence stretches on.

He allows you to remain there, and doesn't delve back into the waters either, so that's something. You still have his trust. You could also cry about still having his trust. What a wonderful being.

"I'm sorry," you offer tentatively, hoping that the note of sorrow ringing through your words will convey the depth of regret behind those two simple syllables. "They weren't supposed to come here."

His round, wet nose twitches rapidly, whiskers bobbing with every flicker and flutter, his sleek, blubbery body shifting subtly from side to side. His tail slaps the sand in a frenzy, kicking up sprays of loose soil and scattering fragments of seashells in all directions. "Gegh!" he screams all of a sudden, making you jump. "Ggighphh!"

"Okay, I hear you," you reassure him hastily. "Next time I'll yell at them harder."

"Gyeeaaagh..."

"Uh huh, that's better. I hear you."

"Greph, l'egg!"

"Do you forgive me?"

"Miphhh."

"Oh, you’re so sweet…”

A week passes before you try to meet him again, giving him ample time to recover.

He never reappeared when you came by alone to the cove after your usual duties ended — you began wondering if maybe the incident left him traumatized, too sensitive to want to risk further confrontation — but there's a sense of relief in knowing that he hasn't abandoned you entirely.

When you step onto the beach one morning, bright and early before the sun has fully risen above the horizon, his dark shape emerges from the waves to greet you once more, shambling awkwardly across the pebbles as though eager to confirm your presence, and your heart absolutely leaps at seeing him back.

Something about this meeting feels different than before, there's a rush in his mannerisms that wasn't there previously, and as he approaches, you notice his head is uncharacteristically held low. It reminds you of a child who has something important to say but doesn't know how, or dare, to begin talking.

He stops just a few feet away from where you're standing, staring resolutely at the ground instead of maintaining direct visual contact, and remains completely silent save for an occasional chirrup that seems directed inward more than toward you.

"Hey, buddy," you begin softly, afraid to disturb the quiet. "How've you been? Long time no see. Missed ya, little rascal."

He explodes with an accusing, "Ya!" and smacks his front flipper on the sand as punctuation. The sneeze that follows is rough. "Hphaaa — mmphm..."

"Ohhkay, wow, someone sure is pissed today," you raise a brow.

He doesn't like that.

And for the first time, you witness a temper tantrum from him.

He barks loudly, tail flapping and nostrils flaring in frustration as he tosses himself back and forth across the sands, flopping wildly, kicking his finned tail and letting out shrill cries of outrage whenever you start approaching closer. Even as you stand a safe distance away, he continues to glare balefully up at you, snuffling and squealing disapprovingly as though offended that you're even present during such an intense bout of sulking.

Witnessing the rare display of bad humor has your shoulders shaking uncontrollably in fits of giggles despite the fact that he's acting irrationally, which is kind of rude from your end because obviously it can't be funny from his. But when you manage to contain yourself and regain some semblance of composure, you notice that his dramatic display has evolved into something more reminiscent of theatrics of an overgrown puppy trying its hardest to prove its ferociously cute point, and not the primordial rage fit that you thought initially. His face is scrunched up as if stuck halfway between a yawn and a grimace; his eyelids squeezed tightly shut while his mouth gapes wide open, showing off rows of sharp, deadly teeth and pink gums.

It's such a hilarious sight, such a ridiculous pose, that before you know what you're doing, you're reaching down to tickle under his chin lightly — unable to quench down your need to pet and coo at him despite his obvious agitation — and surprise surprise, instead of biting off your entire arm clean off, he goes still beneath your fingers for a moment.

"Oh you're such a cute baby boy. Cute, silly baby. You've got anger issues, mister, huh? Yes, yes, yes, who's the toughest seal ever, huh? Who's the cutest, most adorable seal in the whole wide world?"

To your amazement, he lets you do it, humming softly in response to the gentle rubs and pats, his body relaxing under your ministrations until eventually he closes his eyelids altogether and allows you to continue petting him without interruption or complaint, emitting low growls of contentment in place of displeasure.

"Aw... You missed me that much? Don't worry, I'm not gonna leave ever again unless you ask." Getting to pet him — ever, for the matter — wasn't exactly something planned, so you were bending at the waist, but the way this is going smoothly, you end up sitting down to keep doing it. You smile fondly at the way his gray, dry fur (which indicates he's been on land for a good while) bristles outward beneath your fingertips. "Beautiful, beautiful baby boy. So handsome! Yup, yup, yup..."

Suddenly, his whole body goes rigid.

Then, abruptly, without warning, he moves like a missle, rolling himself onto his side so that he's facing you directly, twisting his torso toward you with unexpected agility, and rests the topmost part of his torso against yours, nuzzling his head along your neck gently. With a start, you realize what he's attempting to do: hug you.

As soon as you comprehend the significance of what is happening, you throw your arms around his broad, muscular form in return and lean forward instinctively, returning the embrace eagerly despite the awkwardness of the angle due to his size relative to your own physique.

"Ghiilaghiiii," he drawls out, the vibrations rumbling deeply inside of him resonating throughout your body in waves until they reach every corner of your being and gets you almost dizzy with elation. "Phyaaaaaaggghhieeeeeehgllll..."

Is it normal to be in tears after such an action? Because here you go. This seal has missed you, wanted a hug and made sure to deliver. How wonderful life is.

"I missed you more, you lovely angel. Thank you for wanting my company still," you sniffle happily into his fluffy coat, inhaling the musky scent of saltwater mixed with fresh sea spray that surrounds him like an invisible cloud. He should smell like fish or algae, but weirdly, he smells nice. And clean. How does a mammal even manage to get this fragrant when living in water? It shouldn't make any sense whatsoever, especially considering how much time he spends in the surf each day yet manages not to get sticky or covered in crusty buildups of dried plankton like most seals tend to develop after spending prolonged periods submerged undersea. "I'm so happy you don't hate me and decided to stay. I thought I had scared you away forever..."

He makes a sound like blowing raspberry at you, whacking his nose against your collarbone roughly enough that you wince inwardly but refrain from complaining aloud, not wishing to discourage him from enjoying the contact.

"Can I stroke you right here as well?"

You know he knows what's going on because he gives an approving hoot at your inquiry, tilting his head upwards against yours momentarily before resting it back atop your collarbones, letting loose a series of joyful chittering noises that sound distinctly like laughter. If nothing else convinces you of his intelligence then this certainly does the trick. An ordinary wild animal wouldn't react in such an interactive way nor would it care enough about interacting with another species unless desperate or curious, yet he has chosen to engage with you consistently since the two of you met all those weeks ago.

"Who is a good little cutie pie? Who is my gorgeous little sweetheart?"

This is probably getting overboard, but he clearly enjoys it based upon how excitedly he flops about while getting fussed over, his long tail beating happily against the sand each time you speak praise unto him in the rythym of your pets. Clearly delighted by this sudden affectionate assault, he bounces and chirrups playfully whenever you pause between complimenting him, eager to receive attention regardless if he comprehends fully the meaning behind it.

Eventually, though, things become less amusing for you due to the amount of strength needed for you to maintain both the position as well as support his huge head (noticing it was very dense and surprisingly heavier than it looked), forcing you to eventually call timeout.

However, before letting him free completely from the hug, you decide to give him a kiss on the nose that instantly turns your insides into mush as you see him close his giant, round, glistening black eyes for a fraction of second like a cat would before blinking them open again, gazing deeply straight into yours and holding your stare.

And proceeds to sneeze directly into your face.

"Thanks. Now we're officially best friends," you proclaim solemnly while wiping spit off your face.

You name him Raf.

You're not entirely sure how you came up with the name, to be honest. Maybe you overheard a tourist saying a variation of 'Raf' or 'Rat' or something similar and subconsciously picked it up from there? Who knows? The only thing you remember is that one moment you were teasing him about naming him 'Crybaby' -- 'BB' for short, and the next you hear yourself muttering 'Raf' out loud like something within your brain clicked. Like it was whispered right into your ear.

When you said it aloud for the first time, Raf perked up so intensely that you realized instantly the name was perfect for him. There was no doubt whatsoever — this was his name. A fitting, powerful one for such a gentle spirit that just happens to sound like a person's name.

But of course, when asked, you say it's short for riff-raff.

[wtf-scientific-papers]

[The Idiot's Guide to Effective Population Size

This is a reference manual for the elegant, yet hideously complex concept of effective population size (Ne), inspired by a classic, self-published manual of automotive repair ‘for the compleat idiot’. The Guide is timely, given the recent Kunming-Montreal Global Biodiversity Framework, where 196 Parties committed to tracking genetic diversity—and estimating Ne—for all species. Ne is a human construct, but a useful one that allows us to capture diverse aspects of an organism's biology in a single number. The Guide collates in one location factual information about effective population size, with a focus on topics of practical relevance to scientists and managers studying real populations; it covers definition, computation and estimation of effective size, both demographically and genetically. As appropriate, the reader is directed to other primary sources for more details. A ‘Don't Do These Things’ section lists several ill-advised approaches to dealing with Ne, and an Appendix provides useful tools and practical suggestions for interested users. A special section considers both possibilities and challenges presented by the genomics revolution. Availability of vast numbers of genetic markers increases precision, but less than some might think, and simultaneously introduces new challenges involving filtering and bioinformatics processing. As annotated genomes become more common for non-model species, opportunities are opened to address qualitatively different questions, including reconstructing historical changes in Ne through time.]

Waples (2025)

[gay-mormon-wizard]

he's right though. why DO we have these organs that get infected all the time and need to be surgically removed and we're just fine without

“God, why did you put the tonsils in if you’re just gonna take them out again?”

I love kids.

[from-the-coffee-shop-in-edoras]

OK, the absence of female Rohirrim political leaders and warriors from the Middle Earth historical record…let’s get into it.

There’s a reason this remains a significant point of debate in the fandom, and it’s because the source material is confusing. Clearly, there is/was a role for women in public life in Rohan that is unlike anything we see in the other realms of Men (or hobbits or dwarves!). The concept of shieldmaidens has obviously been in their culture for a long time. Éowyn is one. Someone thought it worth their time to train her to fight, and the people (speaking through the voice of Háma) know her to be “fearless” and trust her to be their leader. The men of Elfhelm’s éored have no problem with her presence among them in Gondor, and though people are shocked to find her injured on the field, no one is scandalized by the very idea that she was there. So there are Rohirrim all over this story who are behaving in ways that suggest female leadership and female martial ability are not inherently surprising or objectionable to them.

And yet…there is not a single named female Rohirrim either before or after Éowyn in any part of the text of LOTR that we know to have wielded any actual political authority or who fought in battle. If those women existed, why/how are they not in the historical record?

The most satisfying answer TO ME is tied up in which historical records we’re looking at. By the framing device of LOTR, the text that we’re reading is ostensibly the story as documented in the Red Book of Westmarch. The appendices, where we find histories and legends of Rohan, were meant to have been written by the hobbits with some contributions by Aragorn, Gimli and others — but NONE OF THE AUTHORS WERE ROHIRRIM. Yes, they surely spoke to Éomer and Éowyn as the sections on the House of Eorl were written, but the sibs didn’t write the text themselves. Outsiders did. So the text does not represent a direct Rohirrim version of Rohan history. THAT version doesn’t exist in writing anywhere, because that’s not how the Rohirrim operate. They preserve their histories and legends through song, poetry and storytelling. Which brings me to this line from Appendix A:

”Many lords and warriors, and many fair and valiant women, are named in the songs of Rohan that still remember the north.” [emphasis added]

That’s confirmation right there that Rohan history as the Rohirrim practice it DOES include “many” women. And if they have songs that remember many women of the north (i.e., their direct ancestors among the Northmen) then surely their more recent songs, poems and stories would also cover the women of more recent times. So the problem is not that the Rohirrim don’t remember women in their (oral) historical record. The book tells us that they do. Maybe the problem is that the men of outside cultures who wrote the book — those who notably came from societies where women had no comparable roles — didn’t choose to include those parts when they created this written historical record. They noted that the Rohirrim name many women in their histories, and then they proceeded to only tell us about some of the men. That’s a skill issue for the authors, not for Rohan.

So in my mind, an average Rohirrim could talk to you about great warrior heroines of the Northmen or the exploits of some of Rohan’s powerful queens and princesses.* That’s not to say that Rohan was drowning in such figures, but they existed and people knew about them. It means there was enough of them and enough awareness of them to create space in their culture to have those views that we see in the main story (i.e., a willingness to accept both a woman as a leader of the people and a woman as a rider in the army when those things were presented to them). It reconciles the strange contradiction between the apparent culture in Rohan and their history as it was given to us as readers. Make of that what you will, but I like it for me!

*And yes, this could presumably explain the omission of Héra from WOTR in the telling of Helm Hammerhand’s story, though that gets complicated by the fact that WOTR contradicts the published Helm story in a few significant ways. (Which, for the record, I am fine with, but it means I view WOTR as more of an AU than a literal extension of the source text!)

[stormbreath]

Can we talk about Apep? Because I've been dying to talk about Apep! I've got boxes full of Apep!

Sources:

The Firmament / Great Deep Excerpt: 2020 Aunic Field Guide "hey assholes" & "But the snake does not leave.": This One, That One short story, All of the Above 20: Abyssal: Appendix for No Room for a Wallflower Act 1 "I am ORACLE": Field Guide to the Karrakin Trade Baronies Accretion Disk: No Room for a Wallflower - No Motive Draft "I see a great wheel": Shadow of the Wolf Module EMP Pulse & Arc Projector: Lancer Core Rulebook, Manticore License Apep Summary: Google AI Summary Discord Screenshot: Pilot.net Discord Tweets: Massif Twitter

[elodieunderglass]

In preparation for reading your WIPs on AO3 I’ve watched the first 6+ eps of Delicious in Dungeon. It’s silly and light and frothy and lovely and then I get smacked between the eyeballs with Faligan and it made me want to wrap them all up in blankets and not have them worry about stuff for at least the next whole day. Poor kids.

Anyway, enjoying the heck out of Chilchuk. Would you recommend reading any of the manga to get a better read on his character/ history or is the anime a good prep course before diving into your fics?

Ahahaha Oh NO! sorry about all this! you're under no obligation to do so!

Both "Weasel Heart in Defiance" and "His Delicious Materials" have been read - and reportedly enjoyed - by people with less knowledge of the source material than that. I think they're both fairly accessible. It was important to me that HDM not spoil season 2 of the anime, so it doesn't - just gestures at it in places.

Weasel Heart in particular is almost a standalone. While married firmly to the elements of its fusion, it has its own full novel-length novel-weight plot, which is so independent from the canon plot of Delicious in Dungeon that I made a serious attempt to decouple it from canon, and structure it a standalone original work. I made a decent whack at writing it out, using an OC as a placeholder - as someone gets their friend to pose for them, to model the drape of fabric, in order to paint the light. That didn't work, and Killie ran away like a beautiful startled horse, leaving only a faint Easter egg behind him. So, I decided to follow Weasel Heart in the spirit it came to me in - as a fanfic - and that has been the right choice, even if I'm now in the position of juggling three WIPs and IRL friend/ beta reader Sweetlyfez in particular is probably raising a significant eyebrow at me. Pour one out for her.

But Weasel Heart really is ALSO its own animal (Weasel.) And it even has an appendix in the middle where I explain what's my own worldbuilding, what is Philip Pullman's, what's a personal fight with Tolkien, and what canonically belongs to an innocent manga artist who'd probably be rather puzzled. So i think it's ok to read and won't spoil anything but conversely, IT HAS AN APPENDIX.

Also the friend I was originally writing HDM for (as a gift - something for her partner to read during treatment and she couldn't follow published fiction very well) is now out of active treatment! And Sweetlyfez cooked up an entire baby!!!! The world turns!!

[clairedaring]

Soul Mate - Netflix Series starring Hayato Isomura and Ok Taecyeon, premieres in August 2025

Summary: After unintentionally destroying the life of a close friend, Ryu Narutaki (Hayato Isomura) leaves everything behind in Japan and escapes to Berlin. While visiting a local church, Ryu gets caught in a fire and is saved by a Korean boxer named Johan Hwang (Ok Taecyeon). The two young men, both bearing deep wounds, cross paths in a once-in-a-lifetime encounter and discover that they share a unique and inexplicable bond — but the more they desire to be together, the more cruelly their relationship is tested.

Ryu is played by Hayato Isomura, known for his work in the Netflix series Alice in Borderland Season 2. Johan is played by Ok Taec-yeon of the Korean boy band 2PM.

WRITER/DIRECTOR: Shunki Hashizume

PRODUCER: Koichi Murakami

CO-PRODUCER: Shinji Nomura

PRODUCTION: ROBOT

KEY CAST: Hayato Isomura, Ok Taec-yeon

Source: 2025 Netflix Japan Slate Appendix.

[pt2change]

scrubbed in; jeon jungkook

[gif source]

pairing: surgeon!jungkook x surgeon!y/n

genre: another medical au, angsty-ish, miscommunication if you squint, fluffy ending of course :3

word count: 2,827

a/n: they’re back! i’ve had this idea in my head for a while so i decided to do it rather than study for my pharmacology exam hehe enjoy!!

↣ bts masterlist

or read part 1 here

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

the hallways buzzed, the same way they always did. the occasional overhead page adding to the noise of different voices and shuffling sneakers on polished floors. most people dreaded hospitals, but not jungkook. the hospital was his home.

he stood at an empty nurses station, he’s slightly leaned over, reviewing post-op notes from charts of his different patients. his fingers tapped against the styrofoam cup up coffee that went cold hours ago. his eyes stung as he was reaching his fourteenth hour in.

down the hall, you finish drying your hands before exiting OR 4, your hair tied up into a tight bun. you stretch your shoulders, moving them up and down as you make your way down the hall. you spot jungkook at the nurses station, once you reach him, you lean against the counter. 

you placed your hand on his back, rubbing small circles, “long day?” and jungkook looks up at you and smiles, his exhaustion turning into affection. “14 hours, 2 back to back bowel resections, one almost ruptured appendix, and i scrubbed in with dr. park for a skin graft”

“and they all went well?” you ask, your hand reaching up to the small strands of hair at the nape of his neck. jungkook nods in response.

“and here i was thinking all you did was yell at your interns” you tease him, and he can’t help but let out a laugh. he leans in closer, “you’re the one cracking chests open all day like it’s origami”

you pout your lips at him, “awww, jealous?”

he reaches up and swiftly kisses your cheek, “always”

you chuckle, “yeah? i may have ask the chief of cardio to let you scrub in one of her surgeries” jungkook stands upright and faces you, “hmmm,” he says, beginning to run his fingers up your arm, “maybe there’s another way i can convince her to let me scrub in on her surgery”

you blush and playfully smack his arm, “shut up, oh my god, just get back to charting” jungkook lets out a laugh, “i’m being serious!” you watch as he gets back to charting, and there’s a comfortable and safe silence between the two of you. 

it wasn’t easy being in a relationship where work consumed your life, but you two made it work. maybe it was the respect you had for each other. maybe it had to do with you both knowing what the other one had to carry. 

then the pager went off. both of yours simultaneously.

TRAUMA BAY 2. ETA 2 MINUTES: GSW TO THE CHEST & ABDOMEN. 

neither of you spoke. you moved side to side, passing down the hall and through double doors, reaching the trauma bay. it was all muscle memory. you gown up, turning your back to  jungkook and he ties the loose strands, and you grab 2 pairs of gloves. once you sense he’s finished, you turn around to face him and he’s quickly tying the strands above his shoulder and you reach over to tie the ones around his waist. then you hand him the appropriate sized gloves and you both put them on.

the patient was rolled in just seconds later — pale, unconscious, and soaked in blood.

“daniel carter. 24,” the EMT rattled off. “GSW. mid-thoracic and upper abdominal entry. lost pulse en route, got it back two minutes ago. suspected pericardial tamponade, unstable vitals.”

you nod your head, “let’s get him to OR 1.” the both of you and the trauma team rush just down the hall, into to the operating room, and transfer him to the operating table. in a quick manner, you and jungkook scrub in, the operating room staff help you gown up when you both walk in. 

jungkook scans the abdomen, already seeing signs of massive internal bleeding, he steps up and begins assessing the patient’s abdomen, while you grab a stethoscope and take a listen to the patient's chest. “his belly’s rigid, he’s bleeding out. we need to open him up.”

your eyes don't leave the patient’s chest. “his heart’s compressed. it’s classic tamponade. if we don’t relieve the pressure, he’s going to code again. we need to open his chest first.”

jungkook looks up, “or if the bullet hit his liver, he’ll bleed out on the table. he needs a laparotomy first. i can get in and clamp the bleed-”

“there’s no time!” you snapped, stepping forward, reaching for the thoracotomy tray. “i can get it done quickly”

jungkook’s voice rose. “if i don’t stop the abdominal bleed, you’ll be opening his chest for nothing. he’s going to flatline before you even reach the pericardium.”

your jaw clenches. “and if you open the abdomen first, and i don’t release that pressure on his heart, he’ll go into cardiac arrest on the table.”

the two of you stared at each other, tension boiling in the trauma room. monitors beeped faster, and the staff stood frozen, unsure who to follow.

“i'm going in.” you break the silence, reaching over for the scalpel. jungkook grabs your wrist, not rough, but just enough to stop you. “he’s not stable enough for a thoracotomy, he could be bleeding internally, i’ll get it under control and then he’s all yours."

"i know what i'm doing" you say, and the two of you stare at each other. “y/n” he pleads. and you shake your head “dont. not here, not in front fo everyone” your voice is low.

“this isn't about pride or rank. it’s about clinical judgment, i’m trying to save our patient”

it hurts more than it should.

your breath hitches, you shake your hand out of his grasp. “then trust mine. i am also trying to save him, dr. jeon. his heart is priority."

‘i do trust your judgment, believe me. but i know what i saw. with this blood loss-” but you cut him off, “and i know what i heard and felt, that’s textbook tamponade”

he looks at your, just for a moment. but it was enough. enough for you to reach the scalpel, “we don’t have time for this, i’m going in, once i’m done, he’s all yours.”

jungkook shakes his head, “if he dies-”

you make the first incision, “if he dies it’s because we hesitated.” you open his chest in a swift motion. blood pours out, you were right; classic pericardial tamponade. 

throughout the procedure, jungkook watches your every move, suctioning in different places in the thoracic cavity. and it’s silent, not a word is spoken between the two of you.

once you relieve pressure, you begin to suture the left ventricle. you’re the first to break the silence, “he’s all yours. dr. jeon”

jungkook didn't answer. he went straight to working into the abdomen, making an incision and working fast, sweat beading on his forehead. blood was pooled, he clamped, sutured, his hands moving like it was nothing. but in the back of his mind, all he could think about was you. 

the both of you worked side by side, but the silence said it all.

 the was patient was stable when you both finished. you walk into the scrub room, removing your gloves and washing your hands, your hands moving like strangers beside one another, the tension lingering between you two.

walking out, you both turned the corner, nearly colliding with dr. kim namjoon, your chief of surgery. he raised his eyebrows, “doctors” he smiles, his eyes moving between the two of them, and he senses the tension surrounding the pair. “i heard about the GSW, it looked bad.”

jungkook is first to speak up, “yes sir, he’s stable for now. we’ll monitor him through the night”

“it was a tough decision…. dr. y/l/n managed the tamponade within just enough time for you to control the internal bleeding before more damage” he added without hesitation 

you glanced up at him, nodding your head in response. “i’m glad it worked out regardless, that kind of pressure doesn’t usually leave room for debate” he responded, and there was a tone in his voice that wasn’t exactly criticism or approval, more so that he was aware. “i want case notes in my office by tomorrow morning, both of yours.” he adds

“yes doctor” you both say in unison, he smiles before walking past you both, the echo of his shoes trailing into the distance

jungkook exhales first, “he knows”

“they all do” you respond in a lowered voice, and you keep walking to the attending’s locker room, 

you both enter the locker room, jungkook heads over to his space, and you finally speak up. “i made the call, and i was right”

jungkook runs his hand through his hair, “that is not what it was about! this isn't a competition of who’s going to be the hero”

you tilt your head, “is that what you think happened in there?” jungkook shrugs his shoulders” isnt it?”

you chuckled, ”no! god, you say you trust me all the time, but the moment you and i are in a high-stakes situation, you acted like i was just a girlfriend with an opinion. but im not! i am a surgeon who has trained just as hard as you have.”

jungkook looks like he’s been punched in the stomach, “that’s not fair-”

you cut him off, “no what’s not fair is that i have to keep proving like i belong here! or that i deserve to be head of cardio.” you breath out heavily, all your words coming out in one breath. “i just never thought i would have to prove myself to you.”

the silence fills the room, and before jungkook can speak up, you beat him to it. “i’ll take the first shift of watching him.” and you're gone.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

the soft beeping of the monitors fill the space of the ICU room. your patient, daniel, lays quietly, his eyes are closed, but his chest rises up and down steadily. he’s breathing on his own, which is a good sign. you sat in the chair next to his bedside, chart in your hand, clicking the pain every now and then, only a few words are written down. 

in reality, you're using this time to take a breather, away from the tension you felt and the whispers you hear from other staff as you walk down the hallways. you bring your focus back to your notes when you hear the door slide open behind you.

“i figured you would be here,” it’s a familiar voice, he spoke quietly. you continue writing, “hey yoongi” you hear the door slide again, and he steps inside, he doesn't speak right away, instead he walks over to the other side of the bed and by the sounds of it, you can tell he’s changing the iv bag

minutes go by before he speaks up, “i heard what happened,” he clears his throat. “between you and jungkook in the OR.” you exhaled slowly, “words travel fast huh?”

yoongi walks closer to you, “you two were arguing about which surgery to prioritize, of course people noticed.” you looked up from the chart, “well, the patient survived, that’s what matters”

yoongi didn't reply, he studied you for a second, he could tell something else was bothering you. “you know you can tell me anything, y/n.” you look at him, fingers tightening around the chart you held. “i’m fine, yoongi, really.”

yoongi sucks in his teeth, “that’s exactly what people say when they aren’t fine.” the corners of your mouth twitched a bit, “fine. i don't really want to talk about it then”

“i know,” he says, his voice softer now. “but i’m still gonna ask, because we’re friends. and i know just how hard you’ve worked to be taken seriously.”

your eyes flickered at him. something in your chest pulls tight, and you sit up straight against the back of the chair. “i didn't like how he said my name when i was reaching for the scalpel. god, i sound so stupid, i mean i’m the head of cardio! it shouldn’t even bother me but -”

yoongi stops you, “it’s not stupid” he walks over to you, and you continue. “it’s like he called me y/n as if we aren't two doctors in the middle of trying to help our patient. but at that moment….” you pauses, your breath hitching, “i don't know.. he made me feel small.”

yoongi nods his head, “i want to be seen for myself, you know? i don't want to be known as jungkook’s girlfriend in this place.” yoongi walks over to you, crossing his arms, “you are of the best surgeons in this hospital, y/n. you dont need him to vouch for you at all, i mean, everyone here is trying to keep up with you.” 

yoongi places an hand on your shoulder, “i also think that jungkook didn't mean to make you feel like that. he worships the ground you walk on, but that doesn't mean it didn't hurt”

you nod your head, watching the IV drip. you both bask in the silence, “you did good today, the both of you.” he squeezes your shoulder, “i have to check on other patients.” and with that he’s gone

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

two days passed.

the ICU was quiter than usual as jungkook walked down the hallway. he thinks back to the night the GSW patient came in, the echoing of the clattering from the different trays, the blood soaked dressings that covered the patient. but now, the patient was stable.

jungkook paused at the glass, where he watched daniel sleep. he was off the vent and his vitals were steady, he watched as nurse min adjusted the IV. 

“checking in on him?” a voice comes from behind him. a voice he knows all too well. he turned around, and you stood in front of him in your navy blue scrubs, a chart in one hand, your eyes focusing on daniel.

“yeah, figured i’ll do it now, i have an exploratory laparotomy in 30 minutes, ” he responds, quietly. you nod in response, and jungkook’s jaw tenses, not out of anger, but rather guilt. “i was going to text you”

“i know”

the both of you stood in silence, watching your patient.

you're the first one to break the silence, “he asked for us”

jungkook turns to face you, surprised, “he woke up?” you nod, “just for a bit. he didn't remember much, but he wanted to know who saved him, i told him the truth”

he furrows his eyebrows, “which was?”

you turn to face jungkook, and your eyes meet, “that it took the both of us, and we couldn't agree on how to do it.”

he cracks a small smile, “that sounds right”

he waits a few seconds, before stepping closer to you, “y/n, about the other day-”

“i know,” you interrupt gently, “but i need to say something” he nods his head gently. “i don’t care what people say about our relationship, i love being with you and spending any time i have with you-”

“but?” jungkook murmurs.

“i need to be seen and treated as another surgeon in this hospital”. 

jungkook shakes his head, “i wasn’t trying to undercut you or question your abilities, i just-“

“you didn’t trust me?” you whisper, 

“god, no, no one here doubts your skills, it's why your chief of cardio-” you shake your head, “but you did, jungkook. even if it was just a second, and that was enough”

 jungkook grabs your hands, “i didn’t trust the time. we both saw different ways to save him, that doesn’t mean i stopped believing in you, y/n.”

you looked up at him, “i dont- i dont know it just felt like when you said my name,  you didn't see me as a surgeon…you have never done -"

and jungkook cups your cheek, “hey, no… that's not true at all. i see you, y/n. i see you entirely for who you are. i always have. but i needed you to hear me too”

there’s a pause, “and i did. but my mind was set on it” and he nods in response, “i get that. i’m not asking you to stop being who you are, y/n. you’re careful, you double check everything, you give every surgery your all, and that is why i love you. i love you so much, but if it’s going to work -really work- you have to let me fight beside you, not behind you”

you nod your head, “i can do that- i want to do that.”

and there’s another pause, but not heavy like it was before. this silence felt soft and comfortable. jungkook’s thumb brushes against your knuckles, his hand is still wrapped gently around yours.

“i missed you, even if it was just two days” his voice is soft now, and it's your turn to squeeze his hand, “i-”

before you can even finish, his pager going off for his scheduled surgery, “go” you tell him, placing a quick kiss on his cheek, and before he steps away, you catch his fingers one more time, you hold them just long enough to let him know you aren't going anywhere.