#step five: apply what you learned and ask about her day

[tardis--dreams]

Yohan trying to learn how to talk with teenagers and subsequently trying to have a conversation with Elijah is probably one of my favorite scenes of all time. In like. Any kind of media

[vodika-vibes]

Singing - a request from @wax-birds

Summary: Your soulmate isn’t much of a singer, there’s only one song that he sings, and by this point, you know it by heart. The first time you hear him in person, though, is when the Republic Soldiers come to your home world.

Pairing: Ordo Skirata x Reader

Word Count: 2135

Warnings: None

Prompt: Soulmate AU - you can hear your soulmate sing

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly

A/N: Thanks for your request! I wasn't sure, at first, where to go with this, but I hope you like it!

You wake to the sound of singing echoing in your head and you groan, roll over, and pull your pillow over your head, as though that will stop the singing and let you fall back to sleep.

It won’t.

It never does.

You still have to try, though. 

The singing continues, unhindered by the pillow, and you heave another sigh as you throw your pillow to the side and sit up.

You blink, blearily, at the chrono sitting innocently next to you. Barely five in the morning. 

Kriff your soulmate, seriously. And not in a fun way.

You swing your legs off the side of your bed and meander your way to the fresher, humming along with the song echoing through your mind. Would it kill him to learn another song? Any other song?

Okay, that’s not fair.

He does know other songs because you hear him humming along to some of the songs that you sing, it’s just that this one song seems to be the only one that he sings regularly.

It’s called Vod’e An.

A Mandalorian battle song.

The only downside is that you’re never going to meet a Mandalorian. Your home planet is so far removed from Mandalorian Space that you’ve never even seen on. Plus, you’re pretty sure that Duchess whats-her-face banned the old Mandalorian culture.

Or maybe you’re spending too much time on conspiracy websites.

You turn the shower on and wait for the water to heat as you peel your sleep clothes off and toss them in the laundry. Since you’re already awake, you might as well prepare for the day.

As soon as the fresher starts filling with steam, you step under the water and start singing. A silly little pop song that has been playing a lot lately. You’re not surprised when the song in your head changes to singing along with you. 

You and your soulmate have always had that effect on each other. Influencing what song the other one is singing. In a way, it’s reassuring. What, with the state of the galaxy, it’s nice to know that he’s still out there.

It’s a shame your soul bond with him is limited to singing, you’d like to get to know him.

Then again, your best friend’s soul bond is hearing his thoughts, and it made her such an anxious mess that she needed to be medicated.

Hm. You should call her.

You linger in the shower for long enough that the hot water starts to cool, and it is only then that you step out, wrap a towel around yourself, and start preparing for the day.

You work at a local boarding school. One of the most elite, expensive, and competitive schools on the planet. Today you have several parent interviews, to see if their child will thrive at the school or if another one would be a better fit.

You finish dressing, apply your makeup for the day, and then finally leave your bedroom. You head down the stairs to the kitchen and kiss your mother on the cheek.

“Morning, Mom.”

“Morning, sweetie. You’re up early.” The older woman beams at you as she sets a breakfast bowl on the table next to a mug of caff, “Everything alright?”

“Yeah. Just woke up.”

“Soul mate again?” She asks with a knowing smile.

“He takes early days, I guess.” You joke, “And then I started thinking about Clo and just couldn’t fall back to sleep.”

“Poor Chloe,” Your mom sighs as she sinks into a seat across from you, “Her parents sent her to an institute, you know. She stopped being able to tell her thoughts from her soul mate’s.”

“I hadn’t heard that.” You reply quietly.

“Her parents are devastated. They’re hoping he shows up soon.” She shakes her head.

“Do you think visiting her would help?”

“No visitors. She can’t even recognize her parents at this point.”

“That’s a shame.” You say with a sigh, before you shake your head, “What are you doing up so early, anyway?”

“Your brother called. He wants me to watch the twins for the day.”

You roll your eyes, “You need to start charging him for this.”

“Those kids are innocent.”

“Mom.”

“I know, I know.” She shakes her head, “Those kids don’t have any positive influences in their lives outside of me and your father. We’re taking them to the lake house for the week.”

“You’re watching them for a week?”

“You don’t mind, do you?”

“Mom, you and Dad can do what you like, but you need to do something about this. Or he’s going to keep walking all over you.”

“That’s what I keep saying,” Your dad says as he steps into the kitchen. He kisses the top of your head, and then kisses your mom, before stealing a piece of toast from your plate, “We’re talking to a lawyer to get full custody.”

“There’s no room in your suite for two toddlers.”

“Yeah, well. We’re thinking of moving to the lake house permanently. Now that the renovations are done.” Dad says, “But, we’ll discuss this later, you’re going to be late.”

You blink at him and then glance at your chrono, before you swear and scramble to your feet, “Thanks for breakfast, mom!” You call as you hurry to the door.

“You’re welcome, don’t forget your purse!”

“I have it!”

You arrive at school 45 minutes later. You pull into your space, park the car, and stare in disbelief at the sheer number of people running around.

“You’re here, finally!” One of the young women who works in the office says as she runs over, “You have to come quickly.”

“Why, what’s going on?”

“The Senator’s son ran off. And he called in the Republic. There are soldiers here. They want to talk to you.”

“To me?”

“Yeah, well. You know the students.” She drags you over to a pair of men near the building and then abandons you.

“And you are?” The shorter, and older, of the men asks. 

You lift your lanyard, “I work here. I was told you wanted to talk to me?”

The younger man, still dressed in full armor, shifts at the sound of your voice and tugs his helmet off. His gaze is heavy as he scans your face, “You’re the guidance counselor?” His voice is familiar. Familiar in a way that makes your stomach flip, but you push the thought, and nerves, aside to focus on his question.

“Yeah. I mean, during the school year. Before the year begins I do parent interviews for student placement.” You reply.

“My name is Kal Skirata, this is my son, Ordo.” He nods to the taller man, “Is there someplace we can talk privately?”

“There won’t be anyone in my office if that works.”

“That’s perfect,” Ordo says.

“Alright, it’s right this way.” You gesture towards the main administrative building.

“Why don’t you help the others, Kal’buir? I’ll handle the questioning.”

“Yeah, probably a good idea,” Kal replies. He claps Ordo on the shoulder and then hurries over to another clone.

You wait for a moment, and then lead Ordo into the Admin building and to your office, which is on the first floor. You unlock the door and move to the side to let him in first, before you follow him into the room, and shut the door behind you.

“You can have a seat if you like. The chairs are softer than they look.” You offer as you walk around your desk and sink into your office chair. 

Ordo’s gaze slides around your office. He takes in your degrees, family pictures, and the personal items that you’ve added to make this room yours. “I have to admit, I wasn’t expecting a therapist to be my soulmate. Especially based on how much singing you do.”

“Child Therapist and I like music.” You reply, “I did have to teach myself Mando’a to understand the song you keep singing though.”

He flashes a small smirk at you, “You’re a good singer.”

“Thank you.” You motion at the chair, “Please, have a seat.”

He drops into the chair and stretches his legs out in front of him. Ordo is incredibly handsome and he has a very nice voice. But you knew that already. “So, mesh’la,” He drawls, “What do you know about why I’m here?”

“Not much. I was told that the Senator’s son ran off, and that’s it.”

“Is that what you think happened?” Ordo asks, “That he ran off?”

“We are talking about young Brenton Whills, correct?”

“That’s right.”

“He’s been a regular in my office since he was enrolled here.” You say as you reach into your desk and pull out a thick file to place it on your desk.

“Problem student?”

“No, the opposite in fact. Academically speaking, he’s the perfect student. Intelligent, polite, and able to pick up new topics quickly. Socially, he’s very popular. Plays sports and is on the debate team—”

“And yet you say he’s a regular.”

“He’s an anxious kid. Something of a perfectionist.” You pause, “He hates it here.”

“Why?”

“Some kids just don’t like Boarding Schools, they don’t thrive under the structure and being away from their parents.” You explain, “I kind of got that impression from him.”

“So, in your professional opinion, he ran away.”

“This isn’t a prison, Ordo. If the kids want to leave we can’t stop them.”

“The Senator believes his son was kidnapped.”

“No.”

“He believes it a lot.”

“I’m sure he does, but that’s not what happened.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I know Brenton. I know him better than his parents. And I’m telling you, he ran away.”

“You’re not worried about him?”

“Send someone to talk to his uncle. He owns a fishing trawler in town. Brenton spends his free time there.”

Ordo frowns and makes a note in his datapad.

“Ordo,” He lifts his head and looks at you, “Brenton has two adults in his life that he trusts, me and his uncle. I’d prefer it if your brother’s didn’t ruin that.”

“Noted.” He makes one more note in his datapad and then sets it on the table. “It’s too bad that the first time I met you was in the middle of a crisis.” 

“Well, it’s not such a crisis, is it?”

Ordo chuckles and stands. For a moment, you think he’s going to leave, but instead, he walks around your desk and leans against it so that he’s on the same side of the desk as you. “Not so much of a crisis that they need me around.” He agrees.

You stand without being asked, and Ordo draws you closer to his body, his hands low on your hips as he pulls you to stand between his legs. You set your hands on his chest plate, one of your fingers lightly tracing the paint coloring his armor.

“I used to fantasize about what it would be like to meet you,” Ordo admits as one of his hands slides up your back and settles on the back of your neck.

“How’s this compare?” You ask as you lean in so you’re pressed flush against his armor.

“So much better,” Ordo replies with a laugh, “because you’re actually here.” He leans in so that his lips are hovering over yours.

“I thought that clones weren’t allowed to connect with their soul mates?” You ask in a whisper.

“We’re not allowed to do a lot of things,” Ordo replies, “Never stopped us before.” He scans your face for a moment, “I’m going to kiss you now.”

“Yes, plea—” You’re not able to finish your sentence as his lips crash against yours in a deep kiss. And it’s almost like something snaps into place. As though a piece of you that was missing is suddenly there.

And by the way that he’s clutching you, Ordo agrees.

He breaks the kiss, almost grudgingly, though he keeps you pressed tight against him. He’s tightly gripping your waist, and you can tell by the look on his face that he wants nothing more than to strip his armor off and claim you as his right here and now, but instead, he slowly releases you.

It’s not what you want, but Ordo slowly puts a little space between you. “We have a home on Mandalore.” He says, “Will you come with me?”

You hesitate, and then you smile at him, “Tell me where, and I’ll be there when I can.”

“Promise?”

“On my life.”

He flashes a small grin and kisses you quickly one more time. “Give me your comm code. I’m not giving you up now that I have you.”

As soon as you have his comm code, he leaves. Off to find the missing boy. But you, your elated grin doesn’t fade for hours.

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Running from the Flames {2}

Pairing: Pierre Gasly x OFC Summary: Brianna Vowles grew up on the paddock. It was what filled every weekend. There were endless trips around the globe with her father and Uncle Otmar in Formula One, until she went to college. Suddenly her life revolved around studying and boys, one of whom wasn't as nice as he had appeared. Five long years later, with a hiatus in between, she graduated with her engineering degree and had decided to use her VIP pass to see if life in the fast lane had changed. Warnings: 18+ only, domestic violence survivor, lots of drama and fluff, this is a work of fiction and the events are not based on reality. Chapter: One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight || Nine || under construction

The moment Adelaide was asleep I opened my laptop and fired an email through to my psychologist. Considering how much she had earned from my family over the years, I wasn’t surprised to see a link for a zoom call come through within ten minutes. Ever since I escaped Erik’s clutches Dr Shirley Pascoe had been there to help me take back my control and unravel the tangled thoughts in my head so I could be the mother that Adelaide deserved. She was an innocent child and I would not hold her accountable for her father’s actions, even when it was hard. 

The zoom call connected and Dr Pascoe’s face appeared with the monotone grey walls of her office filling the background. I knew Addie wouldn’t be asleep for too long and didn’t want to waste the time we had on pleasantries so cut right to the chase. 

“I met someone today,” I started vaguely, feeling as if I were confessing to a priest and not my therapist. “He was nice and friendly but I completely froze up when he touched my knee.”

Shirley waited for me to continue or maybe the internet froze for a moment but finally she spoke with that irksome serene tone she had perfected. “And how were you feeling before he touched you? Was it a welcomed touch?”

“I…was comfortable.”

“That’s good, what about when he touched your knee?”

“It made me feel something I didn’t expect, something I haven’t felt since Erik - that’s when I kind of freaked out.”

Shirley wrote on her notepad like she did when I saw her in person, her grey bob cut swaying with the cursive writing. “Why do you think that is?”

“I don’t know,” I huffed and picked at my freshing painted nails before sighing as she waited for the truth. “I felt like I could trust him, talk to him, you know? But I thought I could trust Erik too. What if I’m making another mistake or just have terrible instincts with men?”

“Your instincts saved your life,” she reminded me as she closed the notebook. “Unfortunately in life we all make mistakes, some not as insignificant as others, but we still learn from them. We have spent almost three years building tools to cope with the trauma you survived but a fundamental step is to trust in yourself and the work you have put in to get you to this point. Ask yourself this, would your day have been better or worse if you didn’t interact with this man?”

I frowned at the question thinking it was so obvious that of course it was better having talked to Pierre. He had made me smile, and Addie too. I even liked the warmth of his hand before my flight mode was triggered.

Then I realised that if I applied that question to other men I had spoken to in the last two years that answer did not have the same result. The surprise must have shown on my face because Shirley chuckled. “This progress is good, Brianna. I would like to schedule you in for an appointment when you come home and I would like an update on what you did with this realisation.”

I was still a little stunned but managed to agree to a time and date that I would be back in London and closed the laptop lid. A vibration in my pocket had me pulling out my phone and I opened it to find an unsaved number had texted me. My immediate reaction was to delete the message thinking it was spam but when I saw it had my name I opened it.

From Unknown: Hey Brianna, it’s Pierre. I just wanted to thank you for the Bonjela, you were right, it does work miracles.

To Pierre: Glad it helped. I can’t have the star of my favourite team worrying about anything except the car during the big race.

From Pierre: I’m also sorry if I made you uncomfortable earlier, it was not my intention. You think I’m the star? 

To Pierre: I’ve seen your stats, Gasly. Otmar may not play favourites with his drivers but the stats don’t lie. 

To Pierre: And I should be the one apologising. You didn’t make me uncomfortable, I'm just skittish. It wasn’t your fault. 

From Pierre: My offer still stands if you want to talk.

I stared at the message and chewed on my bottom lip. My stomach was in knots and felt giddy from just a few texts, my thumbs shook as they hovered over the buttons waiting for the response to be typed. This was the step Dr Pascoe was talking about, trust in myself and my instinct. Instinct told me Pierre was a genuinely nice person and Uncle Otmar only signed respectable, loyal people to his team knowing having a good heart was worth more than just talent alone. 

Pierre had a good heart.

To Pierre: I’d like that.

The phone rang and I rushed to answer it before the ringtone woke Addie. “That was quick,” I said quietly, covering the microphone so my voice didn’t carry into the bedroom. “I didn’t realise you were so interested in hearing my drama.”

His soft laugh in my ear was relaxing and if I closed my eyes it felt like he was right beside me on the couch. “I didn’t want to give you time to change your mind. Have you?”

“Not yet,” I half joked.

“If you do, we can talk about the weather instead.”

“That would be a very boring conversation.”

“I don’t mind, I just like hearing your voice.”

In my head I could see the smile that he was talking through and my own curled up in response. “You are a charming man, Pierre Gasly.”

“Does that mean you’ll say yes if I ask to drive you to dinner tonight?” 

“Come and ask me yourself,” I dared, my heart threatening to beat out of my chest. “Room 626, the Hermitage.”

“Already on my way.” 

I heard the phone shifting and what sounded like keys rattling before an engine roared to life and the hand holding my phone began to tremble in anticipation. “Dinner’s not for another two hours.”

“Then there is plenty of time to talk and get to know each other.”

“You might not want to take me to dinner by then, I mean, drive us to dinner, the team dinner.” I wanted to slap myself as I bumbled almost incoherently but Pierre just laughed.

“Sounds like another dare to me, and I love a challenge.”

It was my turn to laugh and the tension began to ease. “I have my own challenge now because I thought I had hours to get ready.”

I knew it wasn’t far from the paddock to the hotel but I was still surprised when only minutes later there was a knock on my door and I struggled to zip the back of my cocktail dress all the way to the top. Holding it tight over my breasts, I hid behind the door as I cracked it open and spun around the second Pierre was inside. “Can you please do me up?”

He brushed my long dark hair over my shoulder and goosebumps rose where his fingers touched my skin as he closed the zip. 

“Thank you,” I said as I turned to face him. “I was too rushed to think about that when I grabbed it from the closet.”

“You look beautiful.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out the tube of Bonjela but I closed his fingers back around it, still recovering from his compliment.

“Keep it, I have more in Addie’s bag.” He immediately started looking for her and appeared a little disappointed that she wasn’t around until I told him she was still napping. “Help yourself if you want a drink,” I offered as we passed the fully stocked wet bar, grabbing a bottle of water for myself before taking a seat on the outdoor couch that overlooked the race track in the road below. 

He took a seat beside me with a water of his own and his eyes followed the curve of the track as if he could see himself taking each of the turns. 

“This was the room dad always rented when I was a kid,” I broke the comfortable silence. “We would sit out here after practice sessions and he would tell me about each turn, how sharp the angle was, and how best to take them. I guess I’ll have to make a tradition of it when Addie gets older.”

“Tell me about that one,” he said as he leaned in and pointed towards the closest turn to the hotel, turn three.

“Massenet is best to be left-of-centre. It gives the best rotation going into it but most drivers take a bit of extra road preferring to see around the corner but if you trust the mass delay you can shave some time off and take it blindly.” The words were ingrained in my memory and it was surprisingly easy to recite the details you had heard dozens of times over the years. 

“Wow, I am impressed,” Pierre admitted wholeheartedly as he placed his hand over his chest. “You could be an engineer with information like that. Karel better watch out.”

“I am an engineer, just not that type. I just graduated last month as a mechanical engineer.”

Pierre grinned and nudged his shoulder into mine. “You are amazing. Doing that and raising a child, it’s unbelievable.”

I looked down at my water bottle, nervously picking at the label as my cheeks heated. “I finished two years behind my class.” 

“So? It’s just like out there.” He nodded his head to the paddock and the stands. “When something happens to the car you can either choose to retire it or try for plan b and push hard to finish the race. No one wants a DNF.”

A swell of emotion choked me as he pinned me with those gorgeous green eyes and the intensity of them showed me how much he believed his words. “Thank you,” I managed to say through the lump in my throat and I reached for his hand to give it a small squeeze when words failed me. 

I had done it. I had chosen to initiate the touch, something I hadn’t been able to do in years. It had been something reserved for the people I considered family and trusted with my life. But with Pierre there had been an indescribable connection the moment he had looked at me and I wasn’t going to deny myself the opportunity to explore where it could go.

I hadn’t realised how much I had missed it until he turned his hand over and my fingers drifted between his. “Is this alright?” he asked as his thumb drew small circles over my skin.

The spike of adrenaline began to fade and I nodded as it passed along with the fleeting feeling to take flight. I even went so far as to tuck my legs up under me and lean into his side, craving the warmth that came with being closer to him.

My head came to rest on his shoulder and we started out across the city that was the heart of Formula One. “This wasn’t what I had planned this weekend.”

Pierre agreed with a quiet reply, “I was supposed to be concentrating on the race.”

“You should still be concentrating on the race,” I pointed out, tilting my head back so I could check he was listening. 

“I was until you walked into the garage and took my breath away.” 

He ran his tongue across his lips as he stared at mine and I was equally torn between wishing he would kiss me and hoping he wouldn’t so I could have a moment to think clearly. He was consuming my thoughts too fast for me to even process them but he seemed to see that and broke away from the intense moment we shared. 

My hand tightened in his and he glanced down at our entwined fingers as I decided to share a little more, hoping he would understand my reluctance. “Addie’s father wasn’t a nice man.” 

I took a few deep breaths as I prepared myself to share details for the first time since the news had broken to the world what I had been subjected to. My eyes were fixed on the track and I didn’t dare look away from the familiar turns and straights as I recalled it all with a sense of detachment that kept me from reliving it. 

If my father wasn’t so high up in the FIA I would have just been another domestic violence survivor, but because of his position my situation had become a news bulletin. I became a recluse for months in the wake of the story, hiding from the world until they forgot about me. Just when I thought I was healing from the fractured bones and broken heart I found out I was pregnant. 

“I have spent the last two years completely focused on Addie and finishing my degree so I can finally leave London and move on with my life.” I had forgotten our hands were still joined until he lifted them to his lips and placed a soft kiss on the top of mine. “I don’t know what this is or where it’s going but I want to get to know you, Pierre.”

“Me too,” he said with a reassuring smile. “We can take it slow, I’m a patient man.”

Click here for chapter three.

[armpirate]

Kalla | Choi San || Chapter 4

MASTERLIST Previous || Next

Pairings: CEO!San x fem!reader

Genre: smut, angst, fluff, strangers to lovers.

Warnings: dom!San, sub!reader, voyeourism, use of sex toys, bondage, dirty talk, BDSM, exhibitionism, rough sex.

Summary: She was surprised by how fast her life went from the perfect fairytale to the destructive mess it had turned into. Dealing with a cheater ex boyfriend, having to move out to a different place because the house she lived in belonged to that man she once dreamed of spending the rest of her life with, while continuously being underappreciated at work... It was as if life was telling her to stop dreaming big, to go back to her small town, Bibury, and help her parents run the small farm her family had owned for decades.

At least until she received a call from her friend.

A sudden vacancy as an assistant showed up on one of her friend's system, having her being encouraged to take that big step and apply for it. She had no hopes for it. Mainly because she didn't have any experience on the field, and she didn't comply with most of the requirements that were added on the offer -and which most of them sounded ridiculous and exaggerated for the position, making her wonder who was the freak who needed so many guidelines in order to hire someone to pick up the phone and schedule events. 

Although that hotel she'd be working on was much more than anything she could've come up with. 

Choi San wasn't someone easy to deal with. After his previous assistant presented his resignation letter on his desk, he felt forced to start the whole selection process again -after merely two months. 

Sure that he was being way too strict, enough to find that anyone who applied for the position wasn't enough, he asked one of his friends to be in charge of the interviews and the selection of the most adequate candidate. 

Little did he know Wooyoung would hire the imperfectly perfect candidate for him, sure that she'd help him in many ways other than just in dealing with the responsibilities of his position. 

A new challenge will come their way as soon as she steps inside the hotel. 

Y/n will have to learn how to mold onto him and deal with all his small habits and requirements, and San will find himself trying to open up and let out all those same things that turned him into the person he was. 

The more she digs in Kalla and all of its secrets and exciting corners, the deeper she'll dive into San's heart and soul... Although, maybe, she won't be able to take it. 

Kalla opens its doors to you, sharing the vast amount of filthy and erotic plans it offers, and that you can join with a partner... Or maybe just by yourself. 

Hope you enjoy your stay.

Chapter duration: 13 minutes

The office felt different ever since she stepped inside that morning. It wasn't because of how quiet it was, or how Melanie went straight to her desk, instead of stopping at the Consulting company on the first floor, or how strangely friendly Ava was -she hardly ever greeted the rest of the people in the office, but that day she did. Suddenly, the place she had been working at for more than a year, and that had seemed like hell during the past six months, looked like the perfect workplace out of nowhere. She could even bet the space seemed brighter, even if the windows hadn't been cleaned for a month.

It almost made her feel bad for leaving, and it made her wonder if all the negative aspects were just details that were made up in her head. She, at some point, thought about the possibility of her taking things out of proportion just because she was too sensitive to her surroundings. Maybe she had been taking things out of proportion, maybe there was more than what she saw at first hand. She even felt tempted of rejecting the job position she had accepted, choosing Wooyoung's disappointment over her current boss'.

It could be that there was some future in Youth, and she was just too eager to wait for it to come.

—Meeting in five —Adelaide told everyone, from the door frame of her office—. Y/n, could you bring your computer? I need you to take some notes.

Usually, when those meetings were held, Adelaide gave the team a whole new schedule or called them out for one of the projects not having the results that were expected. So it was no surprise the whole team was nervous since she announced the meeting, until they all took the different seats around the white oval table inside one of the rooms.

—Good morning, everyone —Adelaide greeted, with a serious look while she held up her cup of coffee—. Hope you're having a good Monday.

—Well, we're on it —Brian mumbled, sinking deeper in his seat.

—I love how much enthusiasm you all have within you —her boss faked excitement and happiness, lifting one of her fists in the air.

—What's the meeting about? —Clarisse wondered, moving one of her black locks away from her eyes.

—First of all, I need your presentation done by the end of tomorrow —Adelaide pointed at her—. The client has already asked me a few times, and it seems like they want to bring the meeting forward. So, please.

—Alright, tomorrow will be done.

—The cosmetics project is still going on, I have no news in regards to that restaurant... —Adelaide thought out loud— There should be a new project coming up, so I'd like to know if there are any volunteers to take over it.

Y/n almost felt encouraged to raise her hand, but Ava did it first. She was so greedy, she barely could handle the current project to be taking over another one.

—Oh, since you've raised your hand, I want to forward the client's congratulations after finishing the scrubbing on time.

Y/n's fingers, which had been marking the compass of the whole meeting with each click on the keyboard, suddenly stopped moving when her boss pronounced those words.

It couldn't be. She probably was overthinking it again.

—What scrubbing? —Y/n asked.

—The one with all the surveys from the past week —Adelaide answered as if it was obvious.

—You did it? —Y/n accused Ava.

The sudden accusation, with the upset look, made her gulp thick, slowly feeling the rest of the eyes in the room fall on her.

—Well, you helped her —Adelaide interrupted.

—And isn't it just fair that I receive the same recognition? —Y/n asked— There were ten thousand leads, I did six thousand in these three days, which means she didn't even do half of the work. I even worked at home to assure the client would receive the results this morning. And you still acknowledged her for it and not me?

Her eyes quickly fell on a confused Ava, taken aback by that new attitude coming from Y/n. They all were so used to having her nodding and letting go of things, that having her speak up and clap back was like seeing a unicorn carrying an elf on its loin.

—Ah, right —Y/n nodded—, because having clients seeing you let an inept whiny bitch take over their projects would give a bad look for the company. Especially for you, because the big boss would love seeing how you praise and give visibility to only those who laugh at your jokes —she slammed the upper part of the computer as she closed it—. I've always thought the problem was me. I was convinced I was the one who should improve, because you told me I was still unaware of how things work. I ate it up even if I did all the scrubbings, redacted all the reports and finished most of the presentations. Only because it was convenient for you to keep me like this, to assure yourself the work from everyone would be done. But you know what? Let's see how you all deal with it when I'm gone.

The chair squeaking on the floor as she got up worked as a pistol shot for all the mumbles among them to start.

—But I'm not a bitch —Ava whined.

—You are —Y/n responded, stopping in front of her door—. But don't worry, you'll have all the spotlight to yourself again. And, you know what? You'll get the merit just now, unless you aren't able to finish up the work, which is the most plausible —before opening the door, Y/n turned to her colleagues again—. This is the worst team someone could ever work with. Neither of you know shit about work, but it's not like you need to worry. And obviously, hope you know this is all your fault —she referred to Adelaide, pointing at the table—. You're such a useless and bad boss that I'm surprised you even got the position. Fuck you all, it was horrible working with you —and she topped her goodbye speech with a middle finger as she crossed the door.

The relief she felt in her body as she went back to her desk, only to pick up the few things she had left, multiplied that superation sensation that she felt when she was first hired. It was like all the things that were killing her slowly, all the complaints and rants that she'd only let out in her head, finally found a way out and allowed her to find some peace.

There was nothing that could compare to that.

Slowly, she was getting rid of all the things that had been taking a toll on her self-esteem. First her ex boyfriend, and later her job where she felt she had no future in. It was as if she had entered a whole new era in her life, without even being aware of it.

She knew in the next few weeks everything would be chaos and stress, besides how relaxed she felt in the moment, but she didn't care. She was ready to take it all and take herself towards the next level.

Her fingers waved in the air as she wondered what was the best way to tell her parents. On one hand, she was sure they'd be supportive of her -and even encourage her to take that huge step-, but on the other hand... it was so far away that she wasn't ready to see the sadness on their faces when she told them.

It was even worse when her brother and Rachel showed up half an hour later with the kids, adding that energetic boost that maybe she needed to go on with those news.

—You're so quiet, dear —Rachel approached her after fifteen minutes, placing her hand on her lower arm—. Is everything alright at home?

She wasn't a friend on the same level as Liz, Rosie or Joanne, but she had always been there whenever she needed someone to vent, or when she needed some type of advice -even if shortly after she ended up connecting it to her current life. Which, in some sense, was even better in a matter of perspective, because it added the consequences to back up what she was saying.

—It's good. It's great —Y/n nodded—. Actually, I have news. But I think it'd be better to tell them after we're done having lunch.

Mainly, because she'd rather eat first, and deal with their reactions later. She didn't know what the answer would be, so at the sight of the minimum problem, Y/n tried to opt for the best chance.

—Why later? —her mother approached them— If they're good, it's better to let us know.

—Yeah, give us something good to hear —her father seconded.

—To hear what? —Sullivan appeared after his father, still chewing on something.

—What are you eating? —their father's attention shortly shifted to her older brother— That was still raw.

Except for the few sighs from the ladies in front and next to her, all eyes and attention were back on her, almost surrounding the chair she was sitting on on the porch.

—Good news first: I got a new job —she celebrated.

—Really? —her father's eyes instantly shined in excitement.

—Bad news: It's in Seoul.

His smile quickly dropped when he heard the location, while his wife exchanged a nervous gaze with him before she looked somewhere else to sit.

—But that's on the other side of the world —her mother lamented.

—You'll be all by yourself there —her father continued—. What about your job now? Maybe you could continue there.

—Bad news: I left, and not in the best of conditions —she nervously giggled.

Just like her mother, her father also looked for a place to sit after he was hit with those news.

—It's a change for the better —she assured them—. I was starting to feel burned out, I didn't like what I did. And I got no recognition for the work that I've been doing. It felt like a waste of time —her shoulder shrugged, as she tried to convince her parents that it was a good decision—. The salary doubles the one that I have now, I'll be working directly with the CEO, and I'll be doing exactly what I studied for.

After she had to give up her figure skating career due to an injury on her ankle, she was left with little to no other choices. She didn't want to study, she refused to dedicate four to six years of her life to something that she didn't like. So she ended up doing an Associate's Degree on Secretariat, to at least have something to work with.

She knew that opportunity wouldn't show up twice in her life. That position would put her on a whole different level if she ever had to come back to England.

—Yeah, and how obsessed you're over those Korean boys has zero to do with it.

She liked everything related to Korea, that was true -and it mainly was because of how she slowly got into the kpop and kdrama world. But even if that opportunity had shown up anywhere else, she'd have taken it with no second thoughts.

—I think you chose well —Rachel congratulated her—. She's not attached to anything nor anyone, she's young and smart, and a hard worker. She'll do great in Seoul. Honestly, I really admire you. If I were in your position, I'd have made the exact same decision. Do all of that while you can.

—Rachel —Y/n mumbled with a thin voice, touched by the sweet words of her sister-in-law.

—What? —she continued, looking at the people around her—. Am I not right? We should be supporting her, instead of making her feel like her decision isn't good.

But it didn't seem like her father agreed to what Rachel was saying. While her mother tried to agree with her, her father simply stood up and sneaked inside the house without saying a single word.

And if she thought she'd manage to speak to him for the rest of the day, she was wrong, because he didn't show up in front of her for the rest of the day. Not even to have his lunch. It made her feel like she was doing something wrong, and she was the one who made him upset. The way he seemed to be unreachable was making it harder for her to deal with that situation.

At least until later.

Unable to sleep, she walked downstairs to the kitchen, finding her father sitting behind the aisle in the darkness.

It would've surprised her if it weren't a common habit of his. It was usual finding him there when she got ready to prepare herself her third coffee through the night to keep studying for an exam. He was the one who knew better how hard it was for her to get that degree, and keep her focus and passion on it.

—Look who's back to her roots —he joked quietly, moving the stool next to him so she'd sit—. I'm sorry for reacting that way.

—It's okay. I understand —she answered, taking the spot next to him.

—I want you to succeed, and do what your heart asks you to do —he started to explain himself—. It just hurts to see you go. It was so hard already when you left for London, and I thought that was the furthest you'd ever go —he sadly smiled—. And now you're leaving to the other side of the world, and I'm finally realizing how you're not my little girl anymore. You're this young brave woman that's facing life, and taking decisions.

—It's really important to me to have your support on this —she whispered, laying her head on his shoulder—. I want to know if you're okay with what I'm about to do.

—Of course I am —he nodded—. Everything that helps your future, and that makes you happy, will always have my full support. But I want you to hear me clearly: if things start to go wrong, you'll tell me. Don't keep it to yourself like you've done the past few months. Just like we're here to support you for the good, we're here to support you for the bad. We're your parents, we're supposed to be worried for you constantly. Hell, I'm worried even when you say you're fine because your tone didn't sound convincing enough.

—I will tell you. I promise —she giggled, wrapping his arm with hers.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a gentle jab on her side, finding her father throwing her a side smile before he spoke.

—What about one last hot chocolate and one last piece of advice in this house? For the old times.

He tried to be as careful as possible preparing the drinks, avoiding waking someone up by the noise -especially the kids-, moving his hands slowly on her side to place the cup in front of her.

—What about the advice? —she reminded him.

He puckered his lips, lifting his gaze to the ceiling while he thought what the advice would be.

—Take this experience like a lemon you need to squeeze to the last drop. Get all that knowledge you're seeking for, and don't be scared to use them when you need it. And please, be happy. Not for others, but for yourself. Be happy being yourself.

Completely ignoring the hot chocolate that still had small waves of mist covering it up, Y/n hugged her father tight, hiding her face on his shoulder.

2 weeks later

Wooyoung was surprised by the amount of people that went to the airport to say goodbye to her. Although he was able to understand it. It was a big change, and she was flying quite far from home, they wouldn't see her in probably a long while, it was understandable they wanted to see her right before she left.

—Did you pack everything? —her mother asked.

—Yeah, everything's in the bags —that were already on their way to the airplane.

—Okay... —she nodded— I'll send the rest of the things via mail when you have a permanent place to live. Will you eat a lot? Please, eat a lot.

Y/n squeezed her mother's chin, trying to calm her down before she hugged her tight one last time, before she moved to her brother and the little kids.

—I made you this —George, the oldest of the two, raised the drawing to her.

It was a malformed version of herself, with an coloured version of her two nephews, in a garden. It was such a small thing, but so meaningful, that she had to fight hard her instincts to tear up.

—Come here.

Holding the two brothers, she squeezed George and John in a big hug, while she made them promise they'd behave well while she was away.

—And you need to bring us sweets —John added.

—I will.

The hug later went to Sullivan, and shortly after to Rachel, who patted her bag while kept insisting on how she was able to deal with anything she proposed herself to.

—The baby of the group —Lizzie pouted when Y/n first stepped in their direction.

Their group hug was filled with promises that they'd text each other every day and keep one another updated on everything that happened in their lives. It was a hug that assured the four of them their friendship would go on, it didn't matter where one of them was.

Although Y/n's eyes didn't start to actually tear up until she saw her father's eyes water, looking glistening under the bright light of the airport. He hugged her like he didn't want to let her go, and it'd be a lie if he ever had said it wasn't his intention as he held her for the last time in a long while.

—You'll do great —he assured her, stepping back only to wipe her tears away with his thumbs—. And you look after her —he warned Wooyoung.

—Dad —she weakly laughed.

It was a painful and sad goodbye, that she knew she had to go through to step into the that new part of her life

[hccn-overseer]

Issue 5, 5/17/2023 - The Overseer

Issue Masterpost About the Overseer

This week has shown the Hermitcitizen Hub settling into a rhythm, with an art compilation being created for the lovely ZombieCleo's birthday! Citizens are also encouraged to apply for mod, as more are welcomed! Please check announcements for more details. On to the news!

The Employment Guide to Season 9 and What to Put on Your Resume to Get The Job

By Winter

You may be wondering like I did a few months ago, “How do I get paid? Will I have anything to retire on?” The answer to all your financial questions will be answered by someone who did a little bit of digging to find the answer to the eternal question. So here is a step by step guide on what businesses will pay you. 

At Number One we have Az’s bakery. You help her bake, and just generally help out. The one caveat is that you cannot eat the batter. Under no circumstances. 

Coming in at Number Two we have Grian. Grian will pay you to work at any one of his many Un-Grianproof areas. You do have to be able to not be afraid of the dark, possibly perishing, and overall weirdness. You will be paid in life insurance and grian orbs.

Coming in at Number Three we have SUS. Scar Unsafe Services will pay you to mess with SSS, SUS pays you in whatever you can find in SSS’s chests. A quote from one of the members reads “We do not claim responsibility for anything that may happen if you choose this payment option”. They also pay in free mob farms. 

Coming in at Number Four on the opposite end of the spectrum you have SSS who will pay you handsomely. Yes I repeat, HANDSOMELY to light up very dangerous things. The pay rate will go up depending on the difficulty. 

Coming in at Number Five we have The Hermitcraft Recap. As a member of the recap filming team, the recap definitely pays you. You have the ability to live on sight and you are given 3 meals per day. If you are like me and don’t live in the recap housing units, then you get compensated in what you may ask, Health Insurance, and a diamond a month. 

Coming in at Number Six we have Beef’s TCG shop. You get paid in TCG cards and learn the skills necessary. That’s pretty much it. 

Coming in at Number Seven we have Impulse’s Mega Base. You will not be paid at IBuy. At the mega base you will be paid in the diamonds you dig up. You may also get some cool ores. 

Coming in at Number Eight we have Mumbo K(illsalot) Jumbo. As he is the richest hermit you will get paid, in what who knows. You get paid in diamonds, and A LOT of work holidays. Last this writer heard the Mumbo Affiliates went on a BIG biking holiday. 

And finally The Overseer. This writer can confirm….

…

…

THAT YOU DON’T GET PAID. 

In all honesty, I have been paid in the experience of a lifetime, and we also get baked goods so pretty nice. You also do get paid in fun times.

Now onto other news below the cut!

Weekly Weather Report

By Virtual

Note: If any of our readers are rich and generous, we ask for assistance in paying Rainy’s ransom. The kidnappers' identity is still unknown, but leaving a pile of diamonds on the doorstep of the Overseer offices may be enough to reach them.

Thursday - STORMS, hail expected between 3 PM and 5 PM (GMT). Helmets are suggested for all those working outdoors.

Friday - PARTLY CLOUDY, 75% chance of Doc messing with Grian and Scar. Citizens near Scarland and Grian’s rocks advised to watch for anvils and charged creepers.

Saturday - CLOUDY, fog expected around Zedaph’s base between 1 AM and 10 AM (GMT). Reduced visibility may obscure ledges, increasing risk of death by fall damage.

Sunday - RAINY, hordes of Drowned expected around Spawn Town. Watch for tridents from every direction.

Monday - SUNNY, high temperatures expected to reach 36 Celsius by 11 AM (GMT). Dry areas at risk of wildfires.

Tuesday - SUNNY, high heat continues. Citizens advised to carry water and watch for signs of heatstroke.

Wednesday - WINDY, elytra flight may become unsustainable at high altitudes.

Additional Notes: Increasingly strange copper structures expected to appear around Grian and Mumbo’s bases throughout the week. Citizens are to continue working around them as normal. Do not attempt to wax the copper.

Astrology Corner

[The Horrorscope Theme - Intro]

WINTER The Overseer Presents The Horrorscope Edition 5 [The Magnus Archives Theme – Intro - Continues]

WINTER Test… Test… Test… 1, 2, 3... Right.  (Sounds of Winter clearing her throat) My name is Winter. I work for the Horrorscope, Astral Library, an organizsation dedicated to academic research into the esoteric and the Paranormal. 

I work for the Horrorscope and have been asked by my superiors to record my thoughts on the coming week. I have been working at the Horrorscope for a few weeks and have not got to voice my thoughts so far. As of current we have ten cases still ongoing. 

Statement begins.

(Pause)

Our first case is of the star sign Gemini… While searching through the previous weeks records I noticed that star sign was advised to invest in (disgust) Etho Heads. While this may seem merely harmless, it seems foolhardy to invest in something that multiple people already have invested in. While Etho Heads may make great gifts for family members off server, this reporter suggests ridding yourself of these interesting collectables, if anything give a few to the Hermit known by ZombieCleo.

(Pause)

(Sound of Winter taking a breath)

Our second case is of the star sign Cancer. Cancer was suggested previously to fight GeminiTay. The same week an obituary was released of one of the Cancers. A suggestion for the Hermit Citizens under the star sign of cancer is to invest in life insurance. 

(Pause)

Our third case is of the star sign Leo. Leo is often associated with the symbolism of a lion and the colour red. According to one record, Leo was described as “Lucky” for this year. I doubt the likelihood of that occurring. To improve the chances of this happening, it is suggested to obtain a lion, and then set it free in a friend's house. 

(Pause)

Our fourth case is of the star sign Virgo… Virgo was advised previously to follow a Joe Hills certified beauty tutorial. While this was previously suggested, it is now suggested to spend time away from the entity, and other paranormal beings. 

(Pause)

(Sounds of the newsroom, brown noise if you will)

The crew seem up in arms about something, however that is not my business, my business is delivering this to the listener.

(Pause) 

Let’s get back to business. 

(Sounds of Winter taking a breath in and out)

In the case of Libra it has been written down that they should bring an umbrella with them and open the umbrella up in inconvenient moments. The rest of the suggestion is scribbled out, with some words, which are indistinguishable. 

(Sounds of Winter flipping through pages)

(Beat)

For Scorpio it seems as if they are suggested to start pooling diamonds?? together. So sorry for the confusion but I cannot understand for the life of me what is written here. 

(Sounds of Winter flipping through even more pages)

For Sagittarius it is suggested that they have-

(sounds of a wet being squelching up beside the recording device)

(Sounds of a thud before the sound of Winter slumping onto the ground)

(Static)

Editor's Note: This transcription was not written by the editor. Due to its disturbing nature, the editor would like to exclude it but it is above her pay grade (the pay grade being nothing at all). Sincerest apologies.

The Birdhouse

By Azure

Citizens may have taken notice of many avian and bird-adjacent persons flocking to a treehouse in the forest near the shopping district. One of our interviewers, Azure, has spoke with some of the avians who often use the birdhouse for more information on this new gathering area.

1. What is your favorite part of the bird house? Z: I'd say its how inviting everyone I've met here so far have been! Budgie: Similarly, I like the closeness of it. It doesn’t matter who you are or where you’re from, an avian is an avian Raven: Definitely [the living room], it so comfy and I may or may not have not left it in weeks except to necessities due to that 

2. Who built it? Z: I don't actually know that one, do you know who built it? Budgie: Well, when I got here, nobody really knew, either. It just kind of… existed. A lot of the accommodations and decorations you see were brought in after we settled. We’ve built crash-landing pads around the entrances, we’ve put ladders for those who can’t fly… I believe we changed some of the glass to stained glass so nobody would run into it. While it doesn’t change how I view the Birdhouse, I would certainly like to know who to thank for this building, it’s provided such a welcoming community Raven: No, not really. It's just kind of always been here.*

3. How did you find the bird house? Z: I just got here recently, and after getting a home set up i just- went looking for some community, and heard there was one for avians. I’m glad i looked into it Budgie: I was on my way home from working when I flew past it, I saw what looked like an avian-based build, so I got curious. I wanted to explore, but I didn’t know others were inside until I stumbled upon them. I believe it was Pen and Nerd I found… Raven: Oh, I was out flying a while back and it caught my eye. I went it to check it out and I haven't really left since than

4. Roughly how many citizens are living there and how big is the Birdhouse? Pen: None of us live here per se, at least I don't think so! We all just come around to hang with each other, this is a space to meet other Avians after all. The birdhouse is quite big, that's for sure, quite accommodating too. Can't tell you the exact amount of avians that come by, the amount varies everyday and I'm personally sure I haven't met them all yet Budgie: I’ve so far met… maybe 10 other avians? I’m not sure how many of us actually live here, but many of us will stay the night on occasion! We have a designated ‘comfort’ area for nests and other sleeping arrangements. Z: I’ve only met about 4 so far, 6 counting these two (referring to Pen and Eagle)

6. Is there anything else you'd like to mention about the Birdhouse? Eagle: Well it’s a very nice community space and we’ve kind of formed a flock here. I won’t name names, but some of us can be very bad at remembering to preen or have never learned how, so a lot of times another avian will offer them help. And the avians here are always welcoming, even if I haven’t quite met all of them yet. Budgie: The Birdhouse is always open— I don’t think there will be a time where anyone would be turned away, We’re a welcoming community. As I’ve said before, an avian is an avian. It doesn’t matter if they’ve got full wings or lost or damaged ‘em, they’ll always be welcome to settle in. Pen: I'd say that the Birdhouse is a great place for everyone, especially the birds, it's... I'd have to admit, it's very nice to have a place filled with others that can understand you, ya know? Still working things out and hopefully more things could be added for the others, like how the stairs are a recent addition for those that are grounded. Can't wait to see how this place grows honestly. Z: I've only really been here a very short while, but from what i've seen and heard from the others here, the birdhouse seems like a sort of safe space, and i'm just really glad i joined here

*Editor's Note: The Birdhouse was designed by Morph and built by Redfeather. Canonically, whoever built the basis of the Birdhouse is not definitively known but many other avians helped make the Birdhouse what it is today. You can find a tour of the Birdhouse here.

Lost and Found 

By Virtual

The following items were brought in from across the server this week. As nobody knows who they belong to, they have been categorized as lost. If you recognize any of the following, or would like to report a lost item, do reach out to us at lostandfound@thehermitnews.org*

*not a real email address

Item 1: An iron sword that has rusted up to the hilt, found buried in the desert. The sword was excavated by a citizen collecting sand for a mega project. Despite its poor condition, the sword appeared to have full durability and whistled when swung, as though it was extremely sharp. Tests have shown that the sword is exactly as sharp as it sounds, and it is now being kept safe in a leather scabbard in the Lost and Found office, where it has temporarily become a coat rack. If the sword belongs to you, we hope you are up to date on your tetanus shot before you come collect it.

Item 2: A book with a yellow cover, found in Welsknight’s base. Nearly imperceptible patterns weave their way through the fabric cover of this book. The pattern seems to have no beginning or end, and when we attempted to find one, we found the shapes repeated infinitely, like fractals. This cover appears to have been layered over an older leather binding, which peeked out when the book was opened. The inside cover did contain a bookplate, but the name of the library it came from was too smudged to make out. The book itself contained no words, only a series of impossible mazes that bled over onto each consecutive page, creating a hundred page long infinite spiraling puzzle. If this book belongs to you, perhaps you can show us the solution.

Item 3: An amulet in the shape of a stylized eye, found in the Overseer Offices. The sound of running tape spills from the amulet at a steady volume. When a citizen listened closely, they could hear a voice layered beneath the static. They reported an unmistakable feeling that, whoever this is, they are talking directly to the listener. Their words are faint and unintelligible, but their tone and repetition strikes a sense of urgency. They are trying to tell you something. Can you hear the whisper? Come to the Overseer offices, and listen closely. Maybe you can pass on the message.

Spectating Science: Ravagers and Environmental Behavior in Decked Out

Recorded by Cirrus, the Shoebill

Scientific studies of the Hermit Citizen Hub have been steadily developing over the course of the past month, allowing insight into subjects that have drawn both applied researchers and their fellow citizens towards a dedicated journey of curiosity. These growing developments include but are not limited to observing mob behavior, the radiation of The Perimeter, the transformative effects of The Rift, the fungal nature of the Sculk and its symptoms of infection, the possible existence of The Watchers and their relation to their citizens, and experiments related to the enigmatic Zedvancements.

This edition of Spectating Science focuses on the behavior and care of Ravagers, several of which are heavily integrated into the up-and-coming dungeon crawler game, Decked Out, and features an interview with its highly experienced laboratory technician and beast keeper, Redfeather.

Redfeather, a researcher who specializes in the fields of mob biology, health, and behavior, also keeps watch over a variety of experiments focused specifically on animals and has been working as an applied scientist for two seasons. After several months of assisting other prominent figures with their experiments, Redfeather conducts his own calculated routines of Ravager observation, care, and experimental study.

Ravagers play a vital role in Decked Out, as they are used to increase the game’s difficulty and instill a fearful sense of urgency in its participants. Originally herded by the creator of the dungeon, Tango Tek, these creatures are known to be aggressive towards players and notoriously bloodthirsty, making them a perfect addition to the intended pulse-pumping chases of Decked Out. Despite their brash demeanor, those who are persistent enough to study their instinctual reactions to an ever-changing internal environment have brought an intriguing perspective. 

The following interview with Redfeather was recorded on May 12th, at approximately 8:45 AM in The Birdhouse by Cirrus, the Shoebill.

“Good morning, Feather! Have a seat and tell us where your work hails from. How long have you been an applied scientist?”

“Well, I’m just a lab tech, I work odd jobs here and there, mostly taking care of experiments and other captive mobs, feeding them, recording any growth, monitoring health issues, and recording their behavior in studies! I’ve been working as a scientist for two seasons.”

“Please, elaborate on what makes you passionate about your work. Our listeners [and readers] and I are enamored with any enthusiasm.”

“I’m especially passionate about studying mob behavior. For example, the way Ravagers react in a controlled environment is fascinating!”

“Ravagers, such rambunctious creatures. Have you made any particularly notable discoveries about their behavioral changes, perhaps related to their environment, in this case, or their keepers?”

“Well, for example, their varied reactions can depend a lot on different variables! Depending on the keeper, their past experiences, how hungry they are, the space they’re in, temperature, the presence of other Ravagers, they can be wildly different in their levels of aggression! Sometimes they can seem downright cuddly! Of course, you must always still exercise caution with an unpredictable animal. Illagers may ride them, but they are far from tame.”

“Bulls of their own unruly destiny, they’re not to be tamed by those who dismiss their spirited minds. You say they can be quite affectionate, yes? What are the ideal conditions that could bring them into such a state?”

“I’ve yet to arrive at a precise conclusion, however, I can draw a pretty confident line between docility and whether you have food. Also, if they have recently quenched their bloodthirst, they seem to enjoy a bit of ‘celebration’ so to speak. Other Ravagers treat them with more respect for having won the hunt. Also, while not great for their general mood, a Ravager in a smaller space is less likely to attack right away, granting you the opportunity to distract it with food. Thus, why letting them out of the stable right at feeding time is the perfect time to sneak in pets. They also love a good brushing, providing you can get close enough.”

“Bloodlust for Ravagers, it can’t be removed any more easily than a decaying body seven feet into a bog, after all. A sociological development of a hierarchy among these creatures must be more intricate than those of mere slow cows and sheep if respect for victors is considered imperative to their moods. You have an observant instinct about you to notice such previously undiscovered details. Now, you’re also affectionate towards them from a domestic pet standpoint, just a smidge, from what you mention about brushing them. What is it about them that draws you in with such a sensitive approach?”

"Yes, well, I am one of the keepers as well and have taken on the job of making sure their health is well as they live in Decked Out. I have grown fond of them, though they, I think, feel less towards me and are fonder of the food I bring. Nevertheless, they enjoy their pets and brushes at least as much as a picky cat enjoys being pampered. And that prickliness is what draws me in, I suppose. It's lovable in a way to see them go after their prey so enthusiastically!"

“Cats, what an intriguing comparison. Chasing and devouring their prey gives them a common ground with many, I suppose Ravagers included. Being in such a controlled environment as this ‘Decked Out,’ I suspect, requires Ravagers to relearn their instinctual routines to freely roam. Did you and the keepers work to build a Pavlovian response to their controlled living quarters?”

“For right now, I can say that the Pavlovian response is clearly observed when bringing food, however, for their bloodlust, no additional training is needed! They will go after the keepers or testers or developers alike.”

“Listeners [and readers], take note. Feather, have you recorded any developing changes in the behavior of any other mobs?”

“The only other mobs in the dungeon are the Vex, and they are very instinctual, familiar with Ravagers, and are only let out on occasion when the runner is out of time.”

“Decked Out runners, your time is fleeting from the moment you enter, in that case. Now, if you were to attempt to socialize these controlled Ravagers with other mobs, do you think that they could co-exist in that same environment in Decked Out?”

“I believe other mobs would adapt quickly, given they don't have any natural hostilities aside from Villagers and Iron Golems.”

“Excellent for them! How about if they were to live among each other in the wild? Are they too far changed in this environment to readjust to living in the wild, say, if Decked Out does not last forever?”

“I'm unaware of any extant wild Ravagers aside from their cousins, the cows, but given their natural herding instinct, they would likely do just fine on the plains. The future of Decked Out after the game is currently quite uncertain, but I'm certain we could free the Ravagers at the end for some fun."

“The release of these capricious Ravagers will certainly receive quite the fanfare! […] Each and every second of your time in this interview is one I am grateful to have shared with you. Those are all of the questions I have for you at this time, though I have no doubt that another interview will come along your way in the future.”

“Pleasure to have you! Yes, I can't help but invite you back when you please, not for work, but as a fellow avian! This place is both for the community as well as for avians to be themselves. Have a good day!”

Spectating Science would like to thank Redfeather for providing such a detailed perspective on the idiosyncrasies of these bull-like creatures! We invite any applied researchers to bring forth any growing developments that they would like to share in this segment and look for Cirrus, the Shoebill, for an interview about themselves and their work. In addition, tangents and rambles are more than welcome. No discovery is too small, and it is never too late to teach your fellow citizens something new!

[If you would like to be interviewed for Spectating Science, please look for Cirrus’s Citizen I.D. Card in the Discord server and leave a note for them.]

ADVERTISEMENTS

By Jamie

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The most magi-cal place on the server is opening soon! In just a few days, the Calnival will be opening in the south side of the shopping district. Opening night will have half-off ticalets and exclusive acts! All members of the Calition will be present for the show of a lifetime. Staff positions are open.

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To honour Mi Amore, the Garden Club is hosting a meeting at Bdubs’ new Horse Mountain. Guests are expected to bring Pink Carnations, Marigolds, Roses, or Rosemary in his honour. Hopefully things go down less explosively than the last time Bdubs’ pasture was used.

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Have you accidentaly created a mob farm in your empty interior? Don’t worry! The Scar Safety Services is happy to come in, clean it up, and light up your base! While we can’t help build your base, we can ensure that you won’t die trying! :)

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Fun and Games

This week's fun and games are brought to you by Roo, Snuffy, and Azure!

Word Search by Roo

Crossword by Roo

Coloring page by Snuffy

Brain Teasers by Azure

And that’s all for this issue folks! Thank you so much for reading, and have a wonderful week!

[inkwolvesandcoffee]

The Boxer Outside the Ring (Tommy Conlon x Reader)

Genre: Romance, Fluff

Pairing: Tommy Conlon x Florist!Reader

Word Count: 1.9K

Warnings: N/A, unless we count tooth-rotting domestic fluff as a warning 

Summary: The first time Tommy asked me why I took care of him, mostly by patching him up after each match, I gave him a yellow rose. A few days later I found him immersed in one of Gramps books about the language of flowers. The meaning behind the yellow rose is one of the first he learned and remembered, so he could have given me one today. However, instead he gave me something far more precious.

His company.

His time.

TH Masterlist / Monster Masterlist

Tag list: @buttercup32sstuff @liliac-dreamer @vir-tual @potter-solomons @ilovemanypeople @zablife​​ @hecatemoon87​​​ @alikaheroes

Want to be tagged in the future? Send me a message or leave a comment and I’ll make sure to add ye!

Never judge a book by its cover. It’s a common saying which even applies to a man as distant and closed up as Tommy Conlon.

To be honest, I hadn’t expected much from him aside from a cold attitude and a short fuse. The stories making the rounds at the boxing school have found their way into town, even whispered among the customers when they drop by for a new bouquet of flowers. Various nicknames have been mentioned. ‘Cerberus personified’ is mentioned most. ‘Cú Chulainn incarnate’ is a common reference to the boxer among the Irish community. ‘That chap who helps out on Mondays’, however, is how Gramps used to refer to him before he learned his name.

It was a quite strange Monday about five months ago when Tommy and I first crossed paths. The weekly delivery of flowers had come in alongside an additional order for a couple of new pots. Overestimating my ability, I tried to move a cart laden with the new supplies and package material from the street onto the pavement. I pushed and pulled, but to no avail and the driver wasn’t much use either, continuing to unload the rest of the cargo.

I stiffened when a pair of rough hands appeared at the back of the cart and a gravelly voice told me: “Push it. I’ll pull.”

Without harbouring any expectations, I did what I was told.

And on to the pavement it went. 

Clad entirely in black, an imposing muscular man with eyes as blue as the ocean appeared from behind the cart. I swallowed hard and tried to make myself as small as possible because, while I was grateful for the help, an air of violence hung around him. 

“Need help?” he asked with a gentle smile on his plush lips.

Perhaps that was the moment I started to trust him.

All because of that one smile. 

“Well, if you don’t mind.” After all, it was only me since Gramps had to think about his health.

“Sure.” His expression darkened when he noticed the driver. A flicker of hardly contained anger illuminated his eyes, grown cold and full of an animalistic menace. A chill ran down my spine while I mentally made the vow to never provoke my curious helper.

He walked over to the truck, voice raised so the other man could hear him. “Shouldn’t you have done something? She has to do this by herself and you let her struggle.”

The driver remained silent, chest rising and falling quicker with each step Tommy took towards him. Fortunately, he was the target of his wrath, but I’d be just as mortified had it been me.

“There better be a colleague of yours next week who’s a little more helpful because if I see you one more time, it’ll be the last. Understood?” Tommy leaned in, making use of his imposing stature, to drive his point home twice over . 

Perhaps I should’ve said something, but all I remember feeling was relief. Maybe things would change for the better, at least in the way of being given a little more help in running the shop on my own.

Tommy nodded at the last of the supplies and plants, sitting on the street and waiting to be taken inside. “That’s the last of it?”

“Y-Yes,” the driver stammered, his complexion gone as pale as snow. He looked ready to pass out or, rather, succumb to a heart attack.

“Good. We’ll handle it from here.”

The driver rushed into the truck, started the engine, and drove off as fast as he could.

 Tommy spat on the ground and turned to me. “Ma’am, would it be alright if I help out each week here with the delivery?”

“You’ve only known me for a couple minutes.” I crossed my arms and tried to get a read on him, unsure whether he was serious or pulling my leg. “Why?”

“Because you look like you could use the help. Don’t you have colleagues, ma’am?”

“I only have my grandpa. Tell you what, I’ll let you, but under one condition.”

He narrowed his eyes, chin lifted. “Which is?”

I extended my hand as I walked over to him. “That you call me by my name from now on. I’m Y/N.”

His handshake was firm yet gentle, like he was afraid he’d break my fingers. “Tommy Conlon.”

Since then he’s been helping out every Monday morning. Combine that with a couple of dates, more than once to our favourite bakery for breakfast, and we are where we are.

Five months later, living together in the apartment above the shop.

I cringe as another surge of pain flares up in my abdomen. It truly is great being a woman. Especially the fact that each month you have to experience what Mother Nature won’t give you a receipt for so you can return it. Fortunately, Tommy took over from me earlier today so I could put on my pyjamas and curl up in bed with a cup of tea. 

After a month of unloading the weekly delivery together and gaining each other’s trust, he insisted I’d at least teach him how to use the register. However, Gramps will, as always has been the case in my absence, take care of the actual closing of the shop. It is a shame, though, I won’t get to see the customers being caught off-guard by a hulking figure clad in an apron trying his damn best to remember everything we’ve taught him about flowers and plants.

The bedroom door opens and Tommy walks in, a plastic bag from the local drugstore in his hands. He sent a text earlier saying he'd first do some groceries before heading home. “I got you pads, both for day and night.” 

I pause my series and turn onto my side to face him. Not once has he shown any sign of the discomfort most men display when dealing with tampons and the like. At first, he remained completely silent and let me browse at leisure. Yet, he now pops in the occasional question and throws around inspecting glances as if he is trying to compose a database of information essential to him. 

The mattress dips when he sits down on the edge of the bed. Brow furrowed, he pulls out one of each package. “These are the ones you use, right?”

I nod and rub his forearm. “Yeah, you bought the right ones. Good job, Tommy.”

A relieved smile spreads on his lips. “I’m more observant than you think.” He runs his hand through my hair, features soft. “Need anything? Medicine? Tea?”

“Nah, I’ll be fine. These cramps won’t kill me.”

He grabs Bun Bun, the light brown stuffed rabbit he gave me for my birthday recently, and removes the heatable component in its belly. “I’ll be right back.”

Tommy gets up and leaves for the kitchen. Albeit muted by the distance, I can hear him toss the small bag of cherry pits into the oven and the door slamming shut harder than intended. At first it used to annoy me, but I’ve come to accept he simply can’t help it because he’s stronger than he thinks. 

A giggle erupts from my throat as I envision how he tends to look whenever it happens. He’ll hang his head, handsome features contorted into an expression like a kicked puppy. The first time I saw it, it left me baffled for how could a man like him display such fragility? However, now, the only thing I’ll do is smile to let him know it’s okay. After all, he isn’t what the nicknames make him out to be.

He isn’t a cold-blooded monster.

Only a little clumsy outside the boxing ring. Moreover, he carries with him a story he hasn’t even given me a sliver of in the time I’ve known him. But that’s okay.

Sometimes things are better left untold.

I giggle and flip back over to continue watching my series. Tommy comes back a bit later, hastening to the bed while cradling the heat pack. Judging by the sound of velcro bands, Bun Bun gets once again opened up, this time for an implant. 

Blocking out the light with his broad shoulders, he looms over me to tuck the stuffie into my arms. Satisfied that I’m properly tucked in, he hums and runs his fingers through my hair. I briefly close my eyes, snuggle with Bun Bun, and lean into his touch. 

Unfortunately, it doesn’t last long since he climbs off the bed the moment after. 

Unwilling to show my sulkiness, I continue to lie with my back to him. Nonetheless, the sullenness turns into unbridled restlessness at the sound of rustling fabric. I bite my lip to suppress the urge to flip around and watch him change into his pyjamas, to enjoy the sight of his muscles outlined by the light and decorated with tattoos. My fingers begin to itch with the need to trace his back, a pleasure I get to indulge in all year round since Tommy refuses to sleep with a shirt on. To cure the itch, I entwine them beneath the sheets so they can’t go wandering off on the sensual adventure my mind is begging for yet my body refuses with all her might.

The mattress dips again, the duvet ruffling with Tommy’s struggle to get comfortable. Once he is, however, he slips a big warm hand on my abdomen. 

“What’re we watching?” he murmurs, lazily placing a kiss on the back of my head. 

“Supernatural.” I glance over my shoulder. “Have you ever seen it?”

He shakes his head.

“If you want, we can start from the first episode.”

“Nah, don’t have to. This evening is all about you, not me.”

“You sure?”

He snuggles up to me, voice low and gruff with sleepiness. “Just press ‘play’.”

Legs entwined and his sturdy chest pressed against my back, we watch a few episodes. There’s a certain magic in two introverts sharing the same bubble. They are in a world of their own yet able to connect in a way others can’t. Silence is our language and his words tonight wrap me in a familiar cosy and secure cocoon.

It has already gone completely black outside, the moon bright in the sky, when a soft snoring cuts through the sarcasm and old rock songs. Puzzled, I pause the episode to make sure the noise isn’t my laptop breathing its last or in the series. Neither of which seems to be the case since the noise cuts through the silence regardless. 

A displeased grunt falls from Tommy’s lips when I try to look over my shoulder. I let out a breathless laugh, shut down the laptop, and carefully manoeuvre myself to face him and tuck him in. Instinctively, he props himself beneath my chin, nose pressed against my neck and his arms wrapped around my waist to keep us close together. 

I caress his short brown locks and press a tender kiss on the scar on his forehead, an injury he sustained recently in a boxing match. Slowly, my mind grows foggy while my limbs grow heavy with sleep. 

The last thing I feel is the warm breath of a content sigh on my skin.

And the sensation of something soft though firm digging into my chest.

Poor Bun Bun, firmly wedged between us, has lost tonight’s honour of being my favourite cuddle buddy.

[spaghettificationandpretzels]

A Voice Through the Nothingness Part 6

Series Masterlist

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

Contains: Angst, fluff, death of a child, hurt/comfort, still a slow burn but I'm teasing you with flirting.

4.5 K words

Comment if you want to be tagged or follow #a voice through the nothingness.

“Life is pleasant. Death is peaceful. It's the transition that's troublesome.”- Isaac Asimov.

"These fucking stitches won't stop itching." Thomas had recovered in leaps and bounds since Billy started working with him. He was in online school four days a week, making strides in rehab and his videos had drawn in five high paying clients after their kids saw his videos online.

"Well don't itch them unless you want Hazel to appear from nowhere and yell at you." Billy loved his daily rehab session, not just because he got to work on getting better but because he got to watch Hazel in action.

"Dude just ask her out, you're clearly into each other." Billy hoped it wasn't that obvious, he was doing his best to hide it.

"We're just friends, plus, she's basically my nurse, it would be weird." Dr Charles had brought it up in passing that sometimes patients develop feelings for their caretakers but Billy dismissed it, giving him some line about only dating models.

"I have some news." Thomas sounded conflicted.

"Your parents told me, you'll still have your job once you're discharged." The one thing that was getting hard was watching people leave, sure Billy could do the basics but he couldn't live on his own yet and living in the hospital was getting old.

"I'm going to apply for college classes through the online school, I was wondering if I could use an office at Anvil to study while the house is being built?" The job had paid so well that Thomas' parents had been able to buy a derelict lot where they were going to build a house.

"Hell yeah. I'll get it set up for when so it's ready when you leave." As the disappointment at his limitations came over him Billy put all his energy into his next goal. In truth, he didn't have to do much more before he could finally go home, it was just that those few more steps felt like he was walking across the world.

****

"That place was so fancy. Shit if we had that at the VA life would be easy." Curtis had come to Billy's rehab session that day and had spent his whole time swapping stories with the staff.

"Why doesn't someone bring it up to one of those congressmen you guys protect? I'm sure there'll be something in it for them." Billy had to give it to Hazel, she was always coming up with solutions.

"Why not? Politicians love a good comeback story." Billy was ready to get back out there and all this talk about Anvil was making him itch but right now, Hazel and Lizzy were enjoying their break while he and Curt waited for the football game to come on.

"Can you pass me more fries please?" Billy reached across the table and passed her a handful before she dipped them in sauce and tucked in.

"Real classy, Hazel. You know it's rude to eat so fast?" Billy felt she chest swell with affection for Lizzy, he could tell how close her and Hazel were.

Hazel gasped in mock offence, "Hey, I'm super classy."

Lizzy huffed, "I once watched you eat a jumbo burrito in six bites while hunched over a sink."

Hasel tossed a balled up napkin at her "hey, what happens on a double stays on a double."

Curtis chuckled, "Don't worry Hazel, we've all been there."

Billy smiled and stole a fry off her plate, "yeah, Frank once opened an MRE pouched and down it in one swallow."

Hazel's eyes went wide and she laughed as the vision took over her brain, "wow, I don't know how he managed that but I'm impressed."

Before Billy could reply, a beeping pulled Hazel's attention away, "well looks like I'm needed back on the ward. I'll see you guys tomorrow?"

Billy nodded, "yep, I can't wait."

Hazel huffed and gave him that half smile he had learned meant something unpleasant was coming, "you say that now but you have another capacity test tomorrow and I'm not letting the doc go easy on you."

Billy was hit with a mix of emotions, anxiety, apprehension and excitement. "Well then, I better prepare myself."

"Yeah, you better."

****

Billy was awash with nerves as he slowly walked to the occupational therapist's office for his capacity test. It was only four days ago that Thomas was talking about getting ready to leave and now it seemed Billy was in the same place.

"Where's Hazel?" She told Billy she would be there and she was nowhere to be seen.

Lizzy swallowed, "something's happened with one of her patients, I don't think she'll be coming but I'm sure she'll do her best."

Billy rubbed his face as his anger grew, logical he knew she couldn't always be there and there were plenty of times in the past when she was busy working and couldn't spend time with him but as he was leaning in therapy, emotions weren't logical.

"Then were's the fucking doctor?" Billy just wanted this over so he could go back to his room and work on his program.

Lizzy pointed down the hall with a sigh, "just there. Try not to Hulk out, please. If you get through this you've got six more tests to go and then you can go home but if you take a step back emotionally they won't let you leave."

Billy took a deep breath, remembered what Dr Charles had taught him and centred himself as the doctor approached, "alright, we better get this over and done with."

"That's just what I like to hear Mr Russo. Step into my office and we'll start." The doctor opened the door and Billy stepped through, the room was filled with household furniture and exercise equipment. There was a bathtub, steps of various sizes, short balance beams and a handful of things that Billy didn't recognise.

"We'll start over there at the steps, I'll get you to place the ball of your left foot of the edge and try and balance without holding onto the rails." Billy focused on what he had been learning in rehab and tensed his core as he followed the doctor's instructions. It took some doing but he managed to balance without wobbling and the doctor smiled, "good, swap feet please."

The right foot was easier and Billy felt his confidence grow, "good job, now you're going to walk up the steps backwards, do your best to not hold on." Billy turned on his heel and focused on the wall in front of him as he took the first step, then the next, and the next.

"A little bit faster please." Billy felt the frustration rear its head again, he was trying his best but he still did what he was told, "good. See that bathtub over there?" Billy nodded, "You're going to stand next to it and we're going to practice stepping over the edge and getting inside. Once you have that down, I'm going to spread some water on the inside and we'll see how you do on slippery surfaces."

Billy was done, he couldn't stop the rage he felt come over him, "Fucking hell, I'm not some old fuck in my nineties with a broken hip. I've been showering alone for months if you'd taken any time to look at my chart. And who the fuck walks upstairs backwards anyway?" He wanted this over so he could go back to his room, if he thought he was going to waste his time doing this shit, he wouldn't have bothered.

Billy wasn't going to hit the doctor but he wanted to, "Where's Hazel? You can't explain anything for shit and I'm getting sick of it." The look on Lizabeth's face only spurred Billy on, "how the fuck is anyone meant to get better when you don't tell them anything. You clearly don't…"

Lizabeth stepped closer with her hands raised, "Billy, you're right, the doctor should be explaining everything but what's done is done. How about we all sit down and go through what you have left to do and the doctor can explain why, how does that sound?"

Billy took a deep breath and willed himself to calm down, "yeah that sounds good."

Lizzy glared at the doctor one last time before waving towards the desk, "you ask him any questions you have and I'm sure we'll be back to the ward before you can blink."

****

Billy couldn't stop looking at the clock, Hazel was late for her visit and she was never late, "where is she?" His fingers tapped like he was trying to drill a hole in the bed.

"I don't know man, maybe she's busy. There was a huge pile up yesterday, she might have extra kids to take care of." Frank was worried, Billy should be happy he passed his test and was one step closer to going home but all he could focus on was that Hazel wasn't there to celebrate with him.

"Her shift it over, she should be here." A part of Billy's mind knew he was being stupid, she might have had to pick up another shift but she always dropped by to let him know when she had done that before.

"Dude, calm down. Hazel doesn't need to be here every time you do something, being without her isn't going to kill you." Frank understood why Billy was acting this way but it didn't make him worry any less. "I'll go see with Liz knows what's going on, maybe she'll tell you why Hazel isn't here."

Frank left Billy the stew in his feelings, the realisation of their absurdity coming over him as he sat in the quiet. At least Dr Charles was coming later so he could talk to him about how he was feeling.

When Lizzy walked in, he knew something was wrong, "I'm sorry Billy, I really thought Hazel would be here. I shouldn't be telling you this but maybe you can offer her a shoulder once she comes. A kid was hurt badly in the pile up yesterday, it's been touch and go all night but he took a turn this morning. She's sitting with him until he passes."

Billy was hit with a wave of shame, he had no reason to complain, "where's his family?"

Liz shook her head, "he's a foster kid, he doesn't have anyone. She paged me about half an hour ago to let me know it won't be long. She should be here in a little bit."

Billy swallowed, "maybe she should go home a rest, it's not like I have to see her today."

Liz gave Billy a soft smile, "nah, I'm sure she wants to stop in and say hello. Dr Charles will be here in ten anyway so you'll have something to occupy you before she arrives."

"Thanks Lizzy, I'm sorry I was an asshole today." Billy knew he shouldn't have yelled at the doctor but he couldn't help it.

"It's fine, but I expect you to talk to your shrink about it." She didn't sound upset at him but she did sound sad.

"I will, don't worry."

****

Dr Charles arrived right on time and Billy was grateful he could read people so well because he looked sad too, "Have you seen Hazel today?"

Dr Charles nodded, "I did. I'm sure Lizzy let you know why she hasn't stopped by."

Billy nodded, "yeah, is she ok? I know you can't me a lot but doing that can't be easy."

He gave Billy a soft smile as he sat down, "No I can't tell you much but she's how you would expect. It is the healer's paradox, to be good at your job you have to get attached, but if you get too attached, then you can't do your job effectivity. I hear you passed another test today, you must be proud of yourself?"

"I don't know doc, I thought I would be but I'm just pissed off." Billy knew this was normal, he had good days and bad days.

"Well has something upset you or are you just upset?" This was a common question in their session, the answer was always mixed.

"I want to go home and I'm sick of being treated like I can't do anything for myself. There's no point in talking about what I was before the explosion I know that but I want to move on." Billy didn't know what he was trying to say but he learned that's ok too.

"You're allowed to be angry that you feel stuck, most people would in your situation. How have the nightmares been?" Billy had been coming off the meds slowly, Hazel was right, the dreams are weird.

"Not terrible, I'm still sleeping at least five hours and I can remember them when I wake up. I've been dreaming about my mother a lot more." He took a breath, "I hate her sometimes."

"Who wouldn't, she left you all alone in the world. What happens in these dreams?" Dr Charles was always so kind, it was easy for Billy to answer.

"I dream about how I found her but this time she's dead and her eyes shoot open and she's screaming at me, blaming me for everything. I would have given her the world, I would have given her everything she ever wanted if she had just wanted me." His breath caught in his throat.

Dr Charles paused so Billy could compose himself, "But you still took her in. You got her to one of the best care homes in the city and you visited her every week before you got hurt so you do care for her. If she could answer your questions, what would be the first thing you would ask?"

"Why she didn't love me enough to keep me? I've seen the parents in rehab, they would do anything for their kids but my mother abandoned me. I want to ask her if she ever thought of me, I know she never checked on me, she could have taken me out of that group home but she didn't." Deep down, Billy knew why, she was a drug addict most of her life, the only time she was sober was when she was carrying him and the moment he was out, she was using again, she couldn't be a mother.

Dr Charles nodded, "I think her giving you up was a sign that she loved you and I'm sure that if she could have kept you she would have. You're very likely leaving here in the next month, how do you feel about being able to see her again?"

"I don't know. Frank's been keeping an eye on her so I know she's doing ok. It would have been nice to have her here." Billy was feeling better by the moment but he always felt that was during his therapy sessions.

"You're allowed to not know, that's what we're here to sort out. We have some more time, how about we pick up where we left of yesterday and walk through the explosion again?" Billy could remember most of it now, he could even remember parts of the ambulance ride but there were still blanks and he hated it.

"Sure doc, I'd like that."

****

Knock knock

Billy was expecting the dinner cart but when he looked up he was greeted by Hazel with a little while box in her hand, "hello." 

Billy smiled, "hello, what do you have there?" 

"I made some cupcakes yesterday, I brought you one to celebrate your success in your assessment today." Despite her smile, she sounded so sad. 

"Wow, cupcakes from home. You must have a lot of faith in me if you brought it in without knowing it I'd pass." Frank had gone on and on about how great her food was, he only wished he could try for food under happier circumstances. 

She sat next to him at the table and slid the box across, "I do. The cupcake is triple chocolate with chocolate icing." 

Billy opened the box, the icing was beautifully piped, and little chocolate shavings were dotted around the icing peaks, "shit this looks good." 

Hazel smiled, "please wait till you have dinner, I don't want to ruin your meal." 

Billy chuckled, "sure." She still seemed sad, even if she was doing her best to hide it, "Liz told me what happened today, are you doing alright?" 

Hazel shrugged, "no but I'll be fine. It's not the first time I've had to do something like that and it won't be the last. I'm sure you've been there before too, comforting someone in their last moments is easier than you think it's going to be." 

Billy nodded, "I've been there more times that I like to count, but you're right, it's strange how easy it is." 

"His name was Harry, I didn't get to talk to him but he was wearing truck socks. The end was peaceful." Hazel's eyes were stuck on a stain on the table. 

"You did the right thing staying with him, it happened a few times when I was a kid. The nurses always made things better." He reached across the table and took her hand in his, it feel like too long since he had touched her. 

"No one should be alone at the end, I don't understand why he didn't matter like everyone else." Hazel's effort to take a deep breath and compose herself failed and her chest heaved. Billy slid around and wrapped his arms around her, and she buried her head in his neck as she started to cry. 

Something about it felt right, like this was what Billy was supposed to be doing. He could see himself being there for Hazel after a long day at work, sitting with her on the couch while she talked about her day. Her arms slid around his body and he hugged her tighter as she calmed down, "You're getting so strong." 

Billy chuckled, "yeah, like you said, you're kinda mean. I'm worried if I don't lift enough weights, you'll hit me with them." Her laugh filled his chest with warmth. 

Hazel pulled away and wiped her face with a sniff, "I'm sorry, that wasn't really appropriate." 

Billy waved his hand, "no, it's fine, we all need a hug sometimes. Maybe you should stay here for a while? You can get dinner from the cafe and we can watch some MMA reruns, you know, end the day on a good note." 

Hazel smiled, "that actually sounds really good." They shifted around and Hazel settled next to him while Billy turned on the TV, "you wanna get something from the cafe too? We can use my discount." 

Billy smiled, "sure, what's good?" 

Hazel thought for a moment, "only four things, the fries, the cheese melt, the greek salad and the ice cream sundaes." 

"The cheese melt sounds good, maybe we can get two of those and two salads?" Billy was happy that Hazel didn't sound sad anymore. 

"Good idea, we can order when the meal cart comes along." Hazel shifted closer and their knees touched but she made move to shift away. 

"Can I share my cupcake with you?" I'll feel bad if I'm the only one enjoying it." Billy wasn't going to lie, he was trying to charm her. 

"I'm not going to say no to that." The way she looked at him made Billy think it was working, "I have some good news, Thomas' last day is on Friday, we're going to have a little party for him and it would make everyone really happy if you were there." 

Billy smiled, "I wouldn't miss it for the world." 

****

Friday came in a rush of more time with the occupational therapist and Billy running himself ragged to make his next milestone so he could leave. He was happy to go to Thomas' party, he even got Frank to bring him a nice pair of jeans and a dress shirt.

When he walked into rehab, Hazel was already there in a set of light blue scrubs covered in sunflowers and a party hat. The smile she gave Billy when she saw him lit up the room and she waved him over with a flurry. He smiled at her as he took in the details of her scrubs, "you look nice."

"So do you, I love the shirt." For the first time in his adult life, a compliment from a beautiful woman had him feeling shy.

"Are these your party clothes?" Billy wondered what Hazel looked like in a dress, he imagined she could look good in anything.

"Yep, I only own scrubs so I have this set when I have to go somewhere fancy. I have a lacy set for dates." Billy took a deep breath, she was flirting with him and he was going to give it right back.

"Ooo, red or black?" He had no idea what had changed but he liked it.

"Green, it suits me." He could see she was holding back a giggle but she didn't do a very good job and with a smile from him her face was breaking out into a grin.

"When you two are done with the foreplay, you wanna come and celebrate?" Lizabeth had been looking at Billy strangely since the night Hazel showed up in his room and he wondered if Hazel had told her something.

"Sorry Lizzy, we'll be right there." Hazel turned back to Billy with a smile, "no funny business now, we got to keep room for Jesus when we dance."

Billy shook his head, "I wouldn't dream of it."

****

This was the most fun party Billy had been to in a long time, over the course of his stay, Hazel had taught him that children had much richer lives than he thought and he found himself listening to them go on and on with genuine interest.

Right now, he was chatting with one of Thomas' friends from the ward about how New York had the best Pizza because of its water. Hazel was looking at him every now and then with a smile on her face and Billy found himself wondering what it would be his life would be like if she was in it in different circumstances.

Hazel came wandering over with two cups in her hand, handing Billy one and giving the other one to the boy he was sitting with, "are you telling Billy all about the superiority of New York water?"

Billy smiled, "yeah, I'm mean, now that I have all this information, I'm definitely going to win the debate every time this comes at up work."

"New York Pizza is the best miss, there's no question." Billy could see how comfortable her patients felt with her, it was like magic.

"Well, Mr Doran, maybe Hannah would like to hear your theory." The boy followed her eye line then popped up with a smile, gave Billy a quick goodbye and raced off.

"Are you allowed to do that?" Billy could see clear as day that the boy had a crush on the girl Hazel had just pointed to.

Hazel nodded, "Of course, they've talked every day since she checked in. I'm just helping him out, her favourite food is Pizza."

Billy chuckled, "is there anything you can't do? You're the best nurse on the ward, killer in rehab, an amazing cook, a matchmaker, hell, you're even a good shoot. What's your secret?"

Hazel smiled and reached out her hand as the music grew overhead, "I don't know, maybe I'll tell you after a dance."

Billy took her hand with a smile as everyone moved to the middle of the room and placed the other hand on her waist. They kept a respectful distance but that didn't stop Billy from trying to take in every detail of her face, the realisation that she was a foot shorter than him hitting him like a ton of bricks, "you're kinda short, you know that?"

She giggled, "I work with kids so it doesn't matter. You got something against short people?"

Billy's chest filled with lightness, "no, I'm just making an observation."

"Ahh, an observation. You make a lot of those." Billy wasn't going to lie, he enjoyed flirting with the nurses and doctors on the ward but Hazel was something different.

"Are you telling me I have a reputation?" He couldn't if she was boosting his ego or giving him shit but he liked it either way.

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure if you weren't a patient you'd a very busy man." Something about the nurses talking about him behind his back emboldened him even more.

"Hey, I'm a romantic, who says I wouldn't find a winner and settle down?" Hazel knew that was bullshit, Frank saw to that every time he had the chance.

"I'll believe that when I see it Russo." There was a pause and he got caught in her gaze, he couldn't remember the last time a woman looked at him the way Hazel was. His eyes drifted to her lips but before he collapsed under the overwhelming urge to kiss her, Thomas' parents called everyone over.

She blinked like she was yanked out of a trace and smiled at him, "are you ready to day goodbye?"

Billy smiled back, "it's not really goodbye, he's going to be working for me."

Hazel let out a single laugh, "yeah, you're right. Come on, we better go get us some cake."

Billy's fingers itched to pull her back in but he stopped himself, "good idea."

****

"You know he's not technically your patient?" With the party over and everyone back in their rooms, it fell the Hazel and Lizzy to start the clean up.

"Yes he is, I was instrumental in his recovery. I don't know what you're getting at Liz but you need to drop it." Liz could see Hazel's feelings from a mile off.

"But he wasn't, other than helping in rehab, you gave him no medical care and need I remind you, his friends helped him in that area too." Lizabeth knew that it wasn't unusual for patients to devolvement feelings for their careers but she could see this went deeper than that.

"And you know that no matter what, there's no way to tell what feelings are real and what's been caused by him being hurt. He was there for me at one of the worst times in my life for half an hour and then I didn't see him for two years. Nothing good can come from pursuing that." Hazel might have had feelings for Billy, but there was no way she was going to act on them.

"So give it a few months and then try again. You know the hospital won't care. I know you might be blinder than a bat when it comes to this stuff but this isn't what you think it is." Liz knew her friend, she knew Hazel would never take advantage of a patient.

"I'm just saying, maybe you shouldn't treat Billy like a child by thinking that his feelings are only transference. He might have a head injury but he's not stupid." Liz knew that was a low blow but she knew that's where Hazel was going to go.

Hazel sighed and put the broom down before turning to her friend, "please don't. Just let this go. In a few months he will forget about me, he needs to leave all this behind him."

Liz huffed, "you don't know him very well at all."

Part 7

[phanfictioncatalogue]

Slow Burn (6) Masterlist

Links Last Checked: February 13th, 2024

part one, part two, part three, part four, part five

A Stolen Ring (ao3) - orphan_account

Summary: Dan’s not normal. Why?

He's not human, he has a mysterious ring, and he hates Phil Lester. They have a strange past, one filled with bullying and avoidance, but when Dan turns into an incubus, everything changes. He struggles with his identity and cries himself to sleep most nights, yearning to be normal. And somehow the universe makes it worse by bringing him and Phil together - in the most literal sense.

Advent Calendar 2021 (ao3) - Phantje

Summary: Phil lives and works in a town in the North called Lylchester. Well, 'works'. He does charitable things in the name of being nice and his (adoptive) parents. Things are fine. Yeah. Fine. Meeting Dan who has strong opinions about peculiar things shakes up Phil's life and he is falling before he can help it.

Dan lives and works somewhere, or anywhere really. By fate, or call it the British Railway train running times, he ends up in Lylchester. Before he can help himself, he has made the first real best friend he has ever had - Beatrix. And suddenly, life does not seem so difficult anymore. Dan appreciates the work he can do, even if it has him interact with the rich idiot Phil more often that he would personally choose.

After All These Years (ao3) - jestbee

Summary: They met her after tour. Martyn’s friend’s dog had puppies and Phil fell in love at first sight. Dan did too, but he’ll deny it if you ask.

Dan tries to keep his distance, because she’s Phil’s dog not his, but she isn’t having any of it.

(and I spent all night) stuck on the puzzle (ao3) - carltzmann

Summary: It's Phil's first week of his final year of university, so really, he should be used to it by now. He should be able to behave normally when the cute guy down the hall is stepping out of the shower at the same time he's entering the bathroom.

Evidently not.

Baby, I'm a Star (ao3) - cactusgal

Summary: Phil is a lighting designer. Bored with the community concert gigs he has worked for a couple years, he applies at a touring company. He is assigned to a popular band, the dreamx, to cover a world tour. Getting paid to work on nearly every continent: how rad is that? Phil's excited until the first day of rehearsal when he learns something vital: the lead singer is a complete twat. Will Phil quit his job? Will Daniel, the lead singer, realize how much of a dick he's being? Will they eventually forget their differences and become friends? Who knows. Only time will tell.

Class of 1953 (ao3) - shutup_turd

Summary: It's the year 1950, and Phil is making a fresh start during his first term at the University of Oxford. He's found genuine friends, he's doing well in his studies, and he can finally be his authentic self...but there's one thing missing.

On a starry evening he stumbles upon a group of actors rehearsing Shakespeare in a sumptuous candlelit chapel. It's breathtaking sight... but it's not the scenary catching Phil's eye - instead it's a charming man with curly hair whose eyes seem to burn even brighter than the candles.

Dandelions (ao3) - throughtheirsnoses (det395)

Summary: Phil returns to his small town after studying how to improve his power that lets him grow plants with his mind. Phil is anxious and struggling with the expectations put on him to grow new plant-based medicine and on top of it all, his childhood best friend, Dan, gets his heart broken and turns to Phil as a rebound. Phil panics.

do you feel it too? (ao3) - heartsopenminds

Summary: A bad break-up has left Phil scared of getting his heart broken again. He’s not ready to date, but he’s missing the easy affection of a long-term relationship.

Cuddle therapy might be the perfect way to get what he needs, with no strings attached. But what happens when that’s no longer enough?

First to Listen (To Anything I Said) (ao3) - SylvesterLester

Summary: It's 2004, and Dan Howell is screwing up in school. He can't help that he's stuck in boring classes with boring people and just doesn't care. So when Phil Lester, one of the geekiest kids in school, is assigned to be his tutor, he's expecting this to just be another crappy part of his already crappy life.

But when it turns out Phil might be Dan's first real friend, his hormones threaten to screw all that up. Because that's all it is, right? Hormones?

home is where the heart is. (ao3) - orphan_account

Summary: 16 year old Daniel Howell had always felt out of place in his dad's fancy apartment or under the Singaporean sun. Life was not bad, but being the son of a British expatriate banker divorcee with commitment issues meant that there was never a home.

Inspired by the only constant in his life, a similar aged British youtuber by the name of Phil Lester, Dan decides to move to his supposed homeland Britain on a whim, in the hopes of escaping his bubble of isolation, and maybe find the place where he truly belonged.

Somehow Dan lands himself in one of the few notorious all boys boarding schools in Britain, one that has bizarre traditions, vicious inter-house competition and way too many attractive boys; and a roommate who had been Dan's best friend all along, even if Phil Lester hadn't known it.

Dan finally found home.

i don't know why (i can't keep my eyes off of you) (ao3) - orphan_account

Summary: Starting a new university is hard enough without Phil having to convince his best friend PJ he doesn't have a crush on their other flatmate, Dan. He definitely does not have a crush on Dan.

I Have My Freedom (but I don't have much time) (ao3) sierraadeux

Summary: Phil just wants to get away. To clear his mind of everything and reconnect with a long-lost passion. A certain horse and the rancher who comes to his aid have other ideas though - filling Phil's mind, and his sketchbook, with brown eyes and charcoal dotted freckles.

He only has the summer. And he's not here to make friends, human or equine.

Kiss From a Rose (ao3) - Nefertiti1052 (Succubusphan)

Summary: Phil is a hawker trading from town to town and looking for an adventure, but when he is caught out in a storm, a beautiful stranger becomes his only hope.

Laws Of Attraction (ao3) - strawberrysunflower

Summary: When Phil turned twenty-nine, he wrote out a list of all the things he had in his life. One terraced house in Manchester, rented. Two housemates who still buy the cheapest alcohol on offer in Tesco. Three failed long-term relationships.

After a spur-of-the-moment Friday night out on Canal Street, Phil ends up in the bed of a very handsome stranger. It’s a nice yet meaningless distraction from his directionless life. No big deal. Until he bumps into him again. And again. And again...

meet me at red dragon (ao3) - watergator

Summary: phil lester is a single 31 year old with a wild eight year old, ethan. dan howell is single 27 year old with a quiet five year old, noah.

when they meet at their son's swim lessons, for some reason phil can't get the pretty brown eyed stranger out of his head.

quiet on widow's peak (ao3) - dvp_95

Summary: Phil's got a list of paranormal experiences a mile long that he likes to share with the world. Abandoned buildings, cemeteries, and ghost stories have always called his name, and a particular fan of his has a really, really good ghost story.

Sparks of Light (ao3) - JudeAraya

Summary: In a world where some people had magic and some didn’t, Dan had always felt at odds. A boy whose magic was broken. The least gifted in his family. Dan’s only ability--being able to see auras--had done nothing but bring him pain, because in each aura Dan read, all he could see were the most depressing human emotions.

At twenty three, Dan was settled in London, resigned to a lonely life as a barista in a shared flat with no prospects and little hope, just trying to get by.

Until one day, he met a boy on the tube whose aura was so brilliant; so full of color and light, it changed everything.

The Canary (ao3) - galaxy_ash

Summary: Dan is a famous singer called The Capricious Canary, but known as The Canary by his fans and the public. Phil is a paparazzo who hates his job and is assigned to stalk Dan to get insider pictures.

The River (ao3) - Portia331

Summary: Dan arrived in Melbourne two weeks ago with just one suitcase crammed with running gear, psychology textbooks, and a mere fraction of his wardrobe especially curated to fit both his aesthetic and the Melbourne weather.

He's about to start in the role of a lifetime on a 12 month contract, but he's barely ready for the Australian summer heat, let alone what the world is about to throw at him.

what might come with the dawn (ao3) - cloud-gays (wind_brewed)

Summary: The Island has a Guardian, that's what people say. Phil doesn't know if this guardian is a mythical being or just a piece of gossip; a made-up story to make people feel safe during storm season. A made-up story just to make them feel secure.

Now that he decides to move in with his parents again, Phil needs the protection. Maybe he needs to reach out to this lonely, black-clothed being; reach out to the lonely man of winter.

Also called: Phil is a storm-chaser of sorts and Dan, a storm-magnet. In between running and hiding, they find each other inside the calm of the storm.

[fluffypotatey]

OMG, so Soft™, Merlin bby, ofc they like you.

I put my vote in for Roland being Merlin's unofficial squire, bc A) just as Extra as Merlin, and B) gets many more excuses to Stab. Like, "Yes, sir, I'll stay right back here while you fight sorcerous assassin du jour and if your magic doesn't work, this dagger will."

A child learning morals from the morally dubious would be A+ content.

Merlin: Agravaine is the traitor, I'm certain of it.

Roland, immediately: I can put a viper in his sheets.

Merlin: ........as much as it pains me to say, please do not do that.

Roland: Well, okay, but if you ever change your mind, I can get one in, like, an hour.

Merlin: *deep inhale*

Also, I don't know why, but I'm picturing Roland as a girl. Like, maybe she heard about Morgause challenging Arthur or even saw the duel happen herself and was like, "Huh," and when Arthur does away with the 'nobility only' rule, she's like "Huh," and immediately goes for it. But girls still can't apply for knighthood (yet, bc gotta take baby steps with social change like that) so maybe Roland is her family name or a brother/cousin, and she just lops her hair off, steals some trousers, and falls in with the lads. She's young enough when she joins that she can pass for a boy. When they get a little older, well, by then her bros have all twigged but also know she can and will kick their asses, so they just make sure she gets tunics that are always a little too big. Bonus if legit nobody else notices this, including Merlin, and the only person who does know is Gwen, and she ain't saying a damn thing. Double Bonus if the first person to notice is Arthur, and the Squires immediately and without hesitation straight up lie to the fucking KING.

Arthur: *squinty eyes*

Arthur: Is.....is Roland......a girl?

SotRT: What? No, of course not, sire, don't let him hear you say that, you'll hurt his feelings.

Arthur: ........uh-huh.

Cue Gwen cracking tf up in the background like, "JFC, I married the biggest himbo in the Five Kingdoms, Arthur, you're lucky you're pretty."

(Also, here are my tokens of returned affection in courtship: 🌹🌸🌼🌺💐💍👑💎)

same gwen lmao

*slams hand on table* ROLAND IS ONE OF CAMELOT'S BEST SQUIRES AND YES SHE WAS INSPIRED BY MORGAUSE

she didn't really ask merlin if she could be his squire. she just started hanging around him, helping him with chores, being his lookout until a couple knights asked and she said: "uh duh, i've been his squire for three months now" "your my WHAT?!"

roland had and will cut a bitch if they threaten merlin. oh, you're glaring menacingly at the king's manservant? roland is breathing inside your walls, have fun sleeping bitch. you told merlin to count his days?? count your seconds, bitch, roland is behind you, axe poised and ready to strike--

all of agravaine's inconveniences, that's roland. ok sure, merlin said no to the snakes, but he never said no to rats! he didn't say yes either but why would you question the method to the madness? his saddle never fits right. his food is always cold. his clothes are always dirty. agravaine knows something is up, but none of his spies are able to find out who is causing all of this???

the other squires help her plan the pranks and very illegal tampering with noble goods, but he called merlin "nothing more than a chair for the king" and they are out for blood.

agravaine complains to arthur about how unruly the squires are but arthur cannot believe it. because that meant that his knights couldn't handle them, but they could and that's a slight on his men which he cannot forgive. it's one of the only things agravaine couldn't trick arthur into believing. roland later soaked agravaine's sheets with spoiled mead, serves him right!

[littlehen]

so I had my last day in my old job!

I wasn't expecting anything, but actually my colleagues all signed a card and I got loads of hugs and they clubbed together to get me a nice leaving gift. I felt very surprised and touched. Lots of people said 'we'll miss you / don't be a stranger / gosh things are going to fall apart round here without you haha'. Also some colleagues gave me little gifts individually which all had text on that said 'believe in yourself' or 'be brave' or 'you forget how awesome you are - so here's a reminder!' so that's quite revealing about how I come across, lol

It's a bit weird, I'm not sad and I'm not excited/worried about the next thing, but that's more because emotions tend to take a while to creep up on me, I'll probably feel something next week.

the strange thing was when my boss gathered everyone round ('I'm going to embarrass you for a moment!') to give a little speech about how I'd be missed and thanking me for my hard work over the years, and I couldn't stop thinking, 'But I am leaving specifically because of you. If you'd said any of this over the past decade, anything positive at all, if you hadn't spent two hours non-stop criticising me in my last performance review (and blaming me for your mistakes!) then I wouldn't be moving on.' (Although I also kind of have to thank him, because I'd come to the conclusion that if he could manage a team then literally anyone could do it, so I might as well give it a go)

the loveliest thing was when I got a text from my young colleague who I've been sort of mentoring. She wished me luck and said 'I wanted to thank you for all the support and guidance you've given me,' which was so nice because she's only 18 and it was such a professional message and I just felt really proud of her, she's come so far. I've made a really conscious effort to be a supportive and encouraging team leader for her and all the youngsters.

Personally, I've had to put up with so many shit managers over the years, or be trained by dickheads who get annoyed if you ask questions or need something repeated, or constantly belittle you and then call it banter. (Not to mention, my first boss who regularly used to pat my bum, and he was still a more competent manager than the one I've just left.) And I was just like, 'but what if it doesn't have to be that way?' So I've always told the young ones not to be afraid to ask questions, and assured them that I fully expect them to forget parts of the training, that's totally normal and all part of learning, and I won't mind standing nearby while they do a process and being available to step in if they get stuck. etc etc. Things I wish anyone had said to me when I was starting out, instead of making me feel small and worried all the time. And also trusting them to make decisions and asking them what they think, praising them for good work and thanking them for hard work. Or if they get it wrong, explaining why it's wrong and how to get better, rather than just telling them off. (Just: doing the opposite of every interaction I've ever had with my boss, lol) And watching that approach work, and seeing the young ones gain confidence - that gave me the confidence to try applying for a promotion. So yeah, it was really great to get that text from her, it meant a lot to me.

I think what's going to be weird, and really hard, is my new work pattern, Monday to Friday, office hours. For 10 years I've always worked at weekends and my days off were random weekdays. I haven’t worked five days in a row with two days off, not for years. I haven’t had to deal with shops and supermarkets at busy weekends. I’m not used to worrying about sorting out work clothes and packed lunches for a five day stretch. And I have to be in the office every day by 8.15am, which is a scary prospect for a night owl insomniac. So I think that’s what I’m most apprehensive about, more than about how I’m going to get on in the job. oh, and meeting 45 new colleagues 😳 All change

[shallyne]

Feyssian Week Day Four - Poverty

Are we too young for this?

Day 4 of Feyssian Week, mini fic 4/drabble. Canon divergent

TW: poverty, hunger, homelessness

Feyre ran as fast as she could, holding the bag as if her live depended on it. Well, her life did depend on it. Cassian and Feyre were hungry, they didn't eat for quite some time and Feyre just found a big bag with old bread that a baker wanted to throw away. Feyre hid in the dark of the alley behind the bakery, waiting for the man to go inside. When he vanished, Feyre took the opportunity, grabbed the bag and ran.

When the shouts of the man began she was already too far away for him to catch up. She made sure he couldn't see her face, anything really. The baker couldn't know who he had to look for.

Feyre was glad that it worked out so well, because the bag in her hand was a jackpot. They could eat this evening and Cassian wouldn't need to give Feyre his last bit, even if Feyre denied. He was stubborn and if he wanted Feyre to have his last bite then Feyre got it. Not this evening, there was no need.

Feyre almost let out a relieved sigh when she saw their tent, Cassians wing peeking over the back of the tent. When he heard Feyres steps he came rushing. "You found something!" he grinned. He gently took her hand and let her into the tent. He let Feyre catch her breath before she showed him what she got.

His eyes went wide at all the bread. "Jackpot!" he whispered excitedly.

Feyre took two pieces out of the bag. "There is mold on them, just on the edges though. We can eat around it." she said and gave it Cassian who marveled at it. Feyre took off the coat that they shared for when someone had to sneak around. "That's going to be some dinner, I catched a squirrel!"

Feyre laughed excitedly, High fiving with her friend. Cassian put the bread aside, throwing clothes in front of Feyre. He grinned at her. Feyre picked a jacket up, it was so - clean.

"Where did you get that?" Feyre whispered, not believing it.

"There was this new rich kid at the camp today." Cassian said, showing her the other clothes. "His clothes were so clean, I had to get them."

"A rich kid?" Feyre asked. "You brawled with a rich kid?"

"I think it was the High Lords son." Cassian replied.

"You fought the High Lords son?" Feyre asked Cassian, her eyes wide.

"It's how it works here, he has to learn that." Cassian shrugged. "And he lost."

As much as Feyre wanted to try the jacket on immediately, she crawled behind Cassian and lifted his shirt. "How is your back?"

He shrugged again. "Fine."

"We need to clean that." Feyre said, pulling him outside again. Cassian sighed, he knew he couldn't change Feyres mind on that. He could be stubborn but if it's about his health she wouldn't let him get his way.

Feyre cleaned his wounds as good as she could and then applied a salve that she stole from a lady once. She didn't feel bad for stealing from her, she scolded Cassian when he looked for food in a dumpster.

The first time in a long, long while they had a bigger dinner. After that they cuddled together keeping each other warm. Feyre was wearing the jacket of the High Lords son, Cassian was wearing his pants and his shirt, their coat over it. Feyre almost drifted away, when she suddenly heard a noise outside.

Cassian heard it too and instantly had his dagger in his hand. He was crawling toward the tent flap. "What are you doing?" Feyre whispered.

"Don't worry." Cassian kissed her cheek "I won't let anyone hurt you."

Feyre shivered. "I wanna come with you." she said quietly.

"Feyre-"

"Please!"

He looked to the entrance and then back at Feyre. "Stay behind me."

Feyre nodded and followed him outside. Feyre winced when a boy their age came from behind a bush. He jumped a step back when he saw Cassians dagger raising his hands to show them he didn't want to hurt them.

He smiled at them and his purple eyes wandered to Feyre. "Hello. I'm Rhysand."

[tahitiwoke]

five times + unloved

ONE | NORTHERN ATTITUDE.

phillip is measuring the properties of tides. he stands on the beach and draws a line in the sand and watches it. waits and then draws another and watches it. draws another and another and so on. it had taken orla a solid half an hour to understand what it was he was doing, the lines corresponding with the ocean's reach. the other children on the beach are laughing and playing, splashing in the tide pools or running after one another with sand crabs they had fished out of the pit holes along the water edge.

but phillip draws his lines and waits. they had worried for a while that he was deaf but doctors had assuaged that worry quickly. he can hear you just fine. he's just not listening. that hadn't been the answer john wanted to hear.

he is disappointed in him and does not bother to hide it, has never bothered to hide it; footballs and toy soldiers and endless amounts of toy guns are piled high in corners of their home, and phillip does his best to play with them in a way that will make john happy, but it never does -- their one shared bond being baseball. now, she suspects her sweet son is more interested in the statistics and the physics of it all, but he sits beside his dad and cheers when he cheers, yells when he yells and one night, he spits gawdamn pitcha couldn't hit a barn door with a shotgun. and john laughs like a bark and claps his son on the back and says fuckin' a, boy. phillip had looked at him like he was god.

here on the beach, john scowls as he watches his son silently draw another line and shakes his head. kid's such a fuckin' fairy.

TWO | EVERYWHERE, EVERYTHING.

he does not open the letter for two days, going back and forth about it, swinging from feeling stupid for ever even applying in the first place to that ballsy, bright feeling of standing on a cliffside and flirting with the edge. it's like he can see the see the rocks below and they're begging for him to join them and god, wouldn't it just be the fucking thing?

are you gonna open that thing or what? jess asks him one evening after dinner while they do the dishes, him preoccupied and scrubbing while she dries and puts away. something in the way she says it makes him think yeah, alright, tonights the night. and he goes upstairs and retrieves the embossed, clean white paper envelope with the return address of harvard admissions in the corner and opens it: dear mr coulson, we are pleased to inform you of your acceptance into the applied mathematics and data analytics--

he trips down the last two steps but doesn't care, scrambling to his feet, sixteen and gangly and he'll be seventeen in july and he'll be graduating in june anyway and they're saying i can play varsity, they're giving me the scholarship, i'm in, i got it, i'm going to harvard.

his mother claps and grins so hard it looks like it's going to crack the sides of her face, jess pushes him and says way to go nerd, and his dad -- says nothing. does nothing. just looks up from his book, like he's disrupted something, like the noise has broken through a hard earned seed of concentration. better work on that piss poor backswing. he goes back to his book.

THREE | ORANGE JUICE

eunice rightwaller is a senior and she tastes like stale beer and cigarettes and something else he isn't sure he wants to ask about; he's trying to conjure all the things he remembers reading in all the books he'd burned through in high school and nowhere in lady chatterly's lover did it mention the awkwardness, the fumbling, the harsh way her tongue invades his mouth. he has to swallow a mouth of spit every time she breaths away to breath. he'd like to slow down, to learn and be gentle and investigate the woman under him but -- well. her hand is down the front of his pants, making short rough jerks in the space that don't feel at all what d.h. lawrence had described. her engagement ring scratches his stomach and presses painfully against him.

" won't your boyfriend be mad? " he asks in the dense quiet of the car when she pulls away in frustration, that he's not participating with quite as much enthusiasm as she had hoped. my fiance. and no, i don't think he's gonna give a shit. phil frowns down at her. " what if i give a shit? " and that gets her to stop all together, her hand retracting at lightning speed. then you're a fucking cunt. she shoves him back by angrily smooshing a palm into his face and pressing and he's got no choice but slide to the side and land on the footwell hard. fuck you. is all he gets as she slams the car door shut.

FOUR | GROWING SIDEWAYS

carol is the love of his life. he already knows, less than two years into their thing whatever their thing is and phil knows with absolute certainty that he is in love with her and won't ever tell her. she is bright and brilliant and gorgeous and he is as addicted to her as a vegas stripper is to blow and money.

they are naked when she turns to him and says listen, things are kind of getting good with rossi and he doesn't know about our whole agreement. so i need to cut back on your, y'know. benefits.

she's speaking english and saying words, he knows she is, but there is a gap between what she says going in and what his brain can process. benefits. he's always been a jealous man, possessive and easily annoyed by the attentions paid to a beautiful woman, but this burns in his face and neck and oh. right. they're not a couple. he's not her boyfriend and she's not his girlfriend and mike rossi is handsome, smart, he's air force. he's shorter than phil but he's confident and he cares less about everything. something must show on his face because hers twists into something awful, something watery, something like -- pity. that's what he's seeing. pity.

laugh, right now. fucking laugh right now phil and you can avoid the most humiliating moment of your life. he laughs. and carol takes a beat and then she laughs too. you son of a bitch, you nearly got me.

he shrugs, grinning wicked and overly dirty to compensate the split in his chest opening up like a dog bark. " sucker born every minute, danvers. "

FIVE | HOMESICK.

he opens the door and carol barrells past him, crying and upset and rambling and drunk and he doesn't really know what to say or do -- he just stands there in his new apartment, a penthouse with a hell of a view and still littered with boxes, and carol rants. she says she hates him and she says she wishes they'd never met. she says she wishes they could just go back to the beginning. she says he's nothing like she thought he was and how she is going back home for a while.

at some point, between her loud anger and quiet anger, she kisses him and when he says no, she drags him down by the back of his neck and makes him kiss her and he has never been able to say no, he cannot say no to her. he wants to deserve her. he doesn't want to be a car accident, he doesn't want to happen to people, he just wants her, so he does whatever she asks him to do.

she fists his sheets and digs her nails into his back and he tells her how beautiful she is, how perfect, how incredible. they eventually collapse into a sweaty, exhausted mess. in the morning, he showers and cleans the apartment, and brushes his teeth because he will not have morning breath. he is going to be perfect.

when she wakes up, she is sober. she slaps him so hard it sends him back against a wall. don't ever talk to me again.

[tellthemeerkatsitsfine]

Update on this post, again it’s a personal life thing, I’ll be back to over-analysis of comedy bits from 15 years ago soon.

Well, I did it. It was quite a lot happening. I was almost surprised at how quickly it felt normal. The places and the objects were as I remember, like no time had passed. Some of the people looked so similar that it was a shock to see them for about twenty seconds and then the only weird thing was how not weird it was. That my brain remembered it had a set of expectations to apply to scenarios like this one, took a short amount of time to dig that up, but once it did it all made sense.

The last couple of years have been the first time since I was fourteen years old that I’ve stopped doing this for a substantial amount of time, enough time to break my immersion and see it from an outsider’s perspective. It’s made me stop and ask myself why I dedicated my whole life to it before, why I spent all that time banging my head against a brick wall of awful things when there are spaces in the world that aren’t like that. It didn’t occur to me until I took a step back that I don’t have to do that.

I had a bit of those outsider’s eyes yesterday, remembering that not everywhere is like that. I saw at least three people who, less than a year ago, drove up to my city along with all the truckers to take it over and try to metaphorically, and in a couple of small cases possibly literally, burn it to the ground. One of those is a person who complained, about five years ago, when my city got to host one of the four championship tournaments we do every year. Those cities are always in her area, the population-dense cluster of cities and towns that’s 5-6 hours away from me, we drive down there almost every weekend in most years, and just once, the rest of them had to come up my way for one day. She complained at time that it wasn’t fair to expect people to travel so far, even though we do it all the fucking time. Five years later, she didn’t mind the distance so much when she made the trip to stand almost directly outside my window, according to her Facebook live videos, shouting about her right to murder everyone’s grandparents and generally live her life without any thought about her responsibility to others.

The weeks of having my city taken over by the trucker protests were awful, and I said at the time that knowing from Facebook that a few coaches I know from other teams had joined them would make it fucking weird when I started this sport again. I posted this picture at the time (on here, not on Facebook, I haven’t posted anything on Facebook in years and intend to keep it that way), saying that once you come up to my actual home and try to fuck it up, I no longer want to play fun games with you to see whether my kids can beat up your kids under agreed upon regulations:

I was right to think it would feel that way. At one point I was coaching against a guy who’d made social media videos of himself honking horns and shouting across the street from my house, and I thought, “I don’t like that I have to pretend it’s all fun and games with aforementioned lizard.” I might start referring to that guy as “Aforementioned Lizard”, actually, that sounds like a good new running joke to take up that’ll slightly sublimate a bit of my anger.

There was someone else, a guy I didn’t know, with a shirt that said “We the Fringe” on the back, and when I saw that I thought, “Oh that’s interesting, you don’t normally see people at these things who are interested in something like a fringe festival. I wonder what city’s fringe they went to to get that.” So I watched until he turned around, and when he did, I learned it was a shirt advertising the far-right federal party. The one that’s taken to calling themselves “fringe” as a way to reclaim that, because they were offended that they’ve been referred to as a fringe right-wing movement. If you think about where the global Overton window is right now, it’s pretty fucked up that some people are supporting a party so far right that anyone can call it “fringe”.

So that gave me a moment of thinking, “Fucking hell, why have I dedicated my life to this thing that’s so full of terrible people? I wouldn’t have this problem if I’d just gone into pottery or some shit.” But then, one of my athletes who was at his first ever competition, only fifteen years old, and has some neurodivergency stuff that means he tends to be a bit out of it and a bit hard to read, I couldn’t tell if he was all that emotionally invested because when he lost his first two matches he didn’t seem that bothered and he didn’t engage all that much in general, but then he won his third match, got up after the final buzzer and turned around and I saw the biggest grin on his face, he ran back to the corner and threw himself at me for a hug, and I thought, “Ah yes, that’s why.” I just don’t think pottery can provide those kinds of highs at a comparable rate.

Also, the bad apples were only a few people. There’s one guy, an assistant coach from a team down South whom I’ve always quite liked, not because I knew anything about his beliefs but just because he seemed nice. Yesterday, he was walking around in a shirt that said I Stand With Ukraine, and he was the only person in the entire building wearing a mask (including me, I’m sorry to say, because I do not have the social confidence to be one of only two people at a big event wearing a mask, and because I knew going to this big indoor thing with lots of physical contact that the tradeoff was accepting a big risk, but that second reason is a bullshit copout since the presence of risk does not negate the benefit of risk mitigation, so it’s really just about the first reason, and if I die due to my lack of social confidence I’ll deserve it). I fucking love it when I take a chance on not hating someone, and I turn out to be right.

I am friendly with a few those people, a few that I chatted with a bit when I saw them. The only one I’d call a good friend, whom I was very much looking forward to seeing, picked this as pretty much the one event in years that he chose to skip. So that reunion will wait until next time. But I was surprised at how many others seemed pleased to see me.

When I put on my coaching jacket for the first time since the high school championships in early March 2020, and zipped it up, I felt like Ralph Macchio at the end of season 1 of Cobra Kai, when he dramatically put on the gi and headband thing that he wore in the Cobra Kai movies, declaring that he was officially taking up the mantle again.

So that’s my update. I can’t think of a less cliche way to say this than yesterday I felt more alive than I have in nearly three years. Truly alive, to quote noted plastic cow destroyer and chocolate milkshake drinker David O’Doherty. We’ll see how long this lasts, I guess, if the world shuts down again or if I get punished for the risk taking with another case of COVID, or if I have another psychological breakdown and can’t keep doing it. But for the moment, I feel like life as I knew and loved it is possible again, even if I have to share it with some aforementioned lizards.

[w2soneshots]

🚀 

heyy, love all your works so far!! any chance you could do jj or willne where yn is always sat on their lap? simple and fluff. maybe jj or will surprises yn with a puppy at the end or smth😬 

hope you’re having a fab day/night/morning dudes

Puppy -KSI

words: 0.9k+

warnings: none.

summary: you and your boyfriend spend a normal day together but later that day JJ surprises you with something very special.

notes: hello lovely! Thank you🥹. I decided to do this for JJ since it’s been so long since I’ve written for him. Enjoy!!🐶💕

Me and JJ have been together for over nine years. He proposed last year and we're very happy in our own little bubble. We decided not to stress too much about the wedding but JJ wants it to be extravagant so we're planning on doing it next year.

I'm well known by the fans since I've been here from the very beginning. So when I accidentally walked in on JJ streaming the chat went crazy. "Shit, sorry!" I cursed, thankfully I was fully dressed. "It's alright babe. Come say hello." He gestured for me to sit down.

I perched myself on his knee. "Hey!" I waved at the camera with a smile. I could barely see what people were typing because there were too many messages. It mainly consisted of a lot of people asking questions and others were surprised but happy that I was there.

I stayed for a little while and answered a few questions before I said goodbye and left the room. I walked into mine and JJ's shared bedroom to get ready since I hadn't done my hair or makeup for the day and I was still in some sweatpants and a tank top.

A few hours later, once I was done I heard a light knock at the bedroom door as JJ walked in. "You finished?" I asked before turning back to the mirror to finish applying my lipgloss. "Yeah, all done." He replied with a smile.

"You wanna go out for lunch today?" He asked. "That'd be nice! Where do you wanna go?" I got up from the dressing table then walked up to him and placed my hands on his shoulders, looking up into his eyes.

"I don't mind... Nando's?" Usually JJ likes the fancy meals with the five star food but with me it doesn't matter where we are we just want to enjoy each other's company. "Sounds good."

As we arrived outside of Nando's a fan walked up to us and they requested a photo. I happily went to take the picture of her and JJ. "Oh- no, I want a pic with you y/n." Surprise covered my features. "Really?" They chuckled. "Yeah. Is that okay?" I nodded. My boyfriend proudly took the picture.

After eating our lunch we got back into the car but I noticed that we weren't driving home, we were going the complete opposite direction. "Wait, where are we going?" I asked, confused. "You'll see." He replied with a smirk.

It took almost an hour before we pulled up in front of a house. I was confused to say the least and he hadn't told me a thing. "What is going on? Where are we?" "Let's go." He opened the car door and got out, ignoring my questions. He walked over to my side and opened the door for me. He helped me out and we walked towards the house.

JJ knocked and within minutes someone was at the door. "Hello! Come on in." The woman stepped aside with a cheerful smile. I smiled back then glanced at JJ. He ushered me inside.

We followed her into her living room. I turned the corner to see a beautiful German shepherd puppy. My eyes widened, realisation suddenly hitting me. "Oh my goodness! He's so cute." I walked towards him and he looked up at me, tongue sticking out. I looked back at JJ. He wore a smug smile.

I quickly learned that he was already very well trained and I confirmed that he was definitely ours to keep, since I could have been dreaming. Me and JJ had spoken about getting a dog multiple times but I didn't think he'd actually want to go through with it. Sometimes I get lonely when JJ has a boxing camp or is away for a sidemen video so I couldn't wait to have a fluffy friend to keep me company.

We set up the back of the car for our new puppy and then we set off home. I was still in disbelief. "Thank you." I smiled wildly at my boyfriend. "You're welcome my love, I'm glad you like him." He replied, glancing at me and admiring my excitement.

"I can't wait to tell Talia. She's gonna freak out!" "Actually she already knows. I told Simon about it at a shoot and I asked Talia if you definitely wanted a German shepherd and she told me that it was one of your main topics of conversation." He chuckled. I blushed slightly. "Yeah, we talk about it all the time."

Once we arrived home JJ picked up the puppy and took him into the house, I followed close behind. He set him down in the living room. "I kinda like the name Milo." We sat down next to each other on the couch as we watched our puppy explore. "I love that." JJ replied, leaning into me.

"Milo!" I exclaimed, the dog turned to look at me. "I think he likes it." JJ chuckled. "It's settled then." Milo came running up to us. I slid off the couch. "You wanna play?" I asked in a high pitched voice. He got all excited. I grabbed the toy his previous owners had given us and began throwing it for him.

Later that night I sat next to JJ in our bed, Milo at my feet. I stared into his eyes. "I love you so much." I whispered. He smiled, pulling me into his chest. "I love you more."

[stopdrunkdriving]

7 Tips for Teaching the Bible to Children

New Post has been published on https://drunkdriving.co.za/7-tips-for-teaching-the-bible-to-children/

7 Tips for Teaching the Bible to Children

7 Tips for Teaching the Bible to Children

June 12, 2023

by:

Douglas Sean O’Donnell

This article is part of the 7 Tips series.

Helping Kids Understand the Bible

“Why do we have to read the Bible, Daddy? It’s such a big book and hard to understand.”

As a father of five and a pastor for over two decades, I have heard a lot of good, honest questions from bright, inquisitive children. How would you answer this question or others like it? In this short article, I’ll answer that question in a roundabout way. More directly, I’ll answer the question, “Based on your experience, what tips would you offer on teaching the Bible to children?”

1. Start with prayer, and pray without ceasing.

First and foremost, pray. Pray that the Spirit will help you understand as you study the passage you are teaching on. Pray that the Spirit would give you the words to say. Pray over your lesson plan. Pray for the children by name. And pray when you gather as a family, church family, or class. Model to the children dependence on God’s guidance and wisdom in the study of his Word.

2. Practice what you preach.

Speaking of modeling, practice what you preach. That is, if you want your children, or the children you teach, to want to learn what the Bible has to say, you must let them see you reading and delighting in the Word. I’ve always been an early riser; my daughter Evelyn too! When she was a toddler, she would wake up a few minutes after I did, come down the stairs and find me in my chair with a coffee in one hand and a Bible in the other. I would get up and make her hot chocolate. She would sit quietly next to me (she is one of those who still is a quiet one!) and drink her sweet brew as I read. I don’t know for certain what she felt or thought each morning, but I know that when she heard me preach on Sundays about how important the Bible is she knew that I meant it because she saw my morning routine day after day for years. To effectively teach children, model the habits that you want to instill in them.

3. Focus on the text.

Don’t stray from the text. As teachers of little ones who live in a world with a barrage of constant entertainment, it is tempting to spend little time on the text of Scripture. But without hearing from God through God’s Word, there is no hope of them hearing the transforming news of the gospel, which is what they need most.

4. Make your Bible teaching interactive and interesting.

Brainstorm ways to include interactive and interesting components into your Bible teaching! Because children are young (their brains are still developing) and have shorter attention spans (perhaps not much shorter than most adults today!), they will struggle to understand complex concepts—like how every human being throughout all history is guilty because of Adam’s first sin. So, use simple language, avoid overwhelming them with too much information, break up stories or sections of the Bible into manageable units, and allow them to interact with you as you interact with them. Share what you found interesting or challenging. If it interests you, it will likely interest them. Ask them questions. Play games. Create crafts. Use props or other visual aids. Sing songs. Act out Bible stories. Engage their emotions and bodies through the five senses. When kids are actively involved in the learning process, they are more likely to remember what they have learned.

To effectively teach children, model the habits that you want to instill in them.

5. Apply it.

Connect the Bible to everyday life. Help children understand how the lessons you cover apply directly to the issues they face. This could include how they relate to people in authority—like their parents, teachers, pastors, or police. It could also include practical steps on how to be kind to someone who is difficult to play with, or how to ask for forgiveness when they have done something wrong. When children see how the Bible is relevant to their lives, they are more likely to engage with it and listen to its words of wisdom.

6. Be consistent.

Consistency is key when it comes to teaching children. When it is time for the lesson, it is important that teachers establish a regular routine and stick with it. It could be that you start with a fun activity, move to storytime, then the lesson, followed by a craft. When children know what to expect, they are more likely to be receptive.

7. Keep it fun!

The devil hates when God’s people are happy. So, be happy! Have some fun! Teaching the Bible to children (or everyone, but especially children!) should be both enjoyable for you and them. Other than the sure-to-be fun crafts, songs, and games that are tied directly to the text and lesson, feel free to start or end, or stop midway, and just have fun for fun’s sake.

A Deep and Lasting Relationship with God

Teaching the Bible to children can be a great challenge, but, if done well, it will be deeply rewarding. By modeling your dedication for God’s Word; creating a consistent routine; teaching the Bible text; connecting the lesson to real life (their real lives!); making it interactive, interesting, and fun; and praying together, you can help children grow in their knowledge of and love for God’s Word, as you also equip them with the tools they need to grow in their faith and make a positive impact within their home and in their community. Moreover, and more importantly, you can help them develop a deep and lasting relationship with God.

Douglas Sean O’Donnell is a contributor to The Biggest Story Curriculum.

Douglas Sean O’Donnell (PhD, University of Aberdeen) is the senior vice president of Bible editorial at Crossway. He is the author and editor of over a dozen books, including The Beginning and End of Wisdom; The Pastor’s Book; The Song of Solomon and Matthew in the Preaching the Word commentary series; and Psalms in the Knowing the Bible series. He also contributed the Song of Solomon and Job to the ESV Expository Commentary.

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The post 7 Tips for Teaching the Bible to Children first appeared on Koa Sinag.

[billconrad]

Inventing A Plot

    When people discover I am an author, they ask, “What’s your book about?” I cheerfully answer their reasonable question, “It’s about a 500-year-old woman forcing an author to interview her.” Their next question is, “How did you come up with such a far-out idea?”

    I have always been creative, and some of this creativity applies when I imagine stories. One of my earliest stories was about a talking cat. We went on adventures and even had drama, where I “talked” to my friend about my problems. As I grew, my stories became more advanced, with multiple characters that had complex interactions.

    Around the high school age, my interests changed, and I devoted my imagination to technology. I wanted to learn everything about electronics and mechanics. I took a thorough analysis of pretend development and only had a minor amount of story creativity during one writing class and emailing jokes I created.

    Around age 30, I began thinking about stories again. I think it was because I worked all day with technology and did not need to think about my day at work. However, there was a difference because I now formalized the process with a beginning, middle, and end. Yet, I felt no need to write them down because they were only a time-wasting effort intended to entertain me.

    The concepts were minimalistic, and the main character (me) always made money. Often the character started or improved a business. This imagination period lasted for about five years, and then my stories mellowed out because my business development interest faded.

    Around 2015 something dramatically changed when eBooks became popular. Before their invention, it took significant effort to read a physical book, and I had better things to do. Going to the library and only having two weeks to read a book? Yeah, right.

    I began reading at least one eBook per week, but something was wrong. I did not always like the stories I read. So, my imagination filled the gaps. My first big story was about a man (me) meeting two women who wanted to start an overseas bank. Yes, this was the same old idea, but I added a twist—romance with structured and realistic characters.

    I imagined many other stores after this, including the plots for my first three books. So what happened to this banking idea? After writing the first three books, I learned about plot structure and characters. When it came time to write that bank story, I realized the plot was awful (a great story for me, but not for readers).

    After I had written three books, I needed more material but did not have ten years to think up a plot. Because I had three developed storylines, I concentrated on the following books in the series. My method was simple. Get my characters into trouble and get them out. Major life problems create drama, intrigue, and creative solutions, making problems the essence of most good books. The trick is to think of something challenging, personal, realistic, and exciting. Plus, I try not to make my problems offensive, stupid, childish, or out of character.

    How does this process work? If I had an established character, I would ask, “What if Sally had Y happen?”  Then I would think up a creative solution. After a few mental rounds, if that plot sounded interesting, I would build upon it. If I did not have an established character, the process would be the same, but I would have to create a character backstory first. A butcher with a dark secret? Sounds good. A teacher with a heart of gold? If something terrible happened to them, that would be worth reading about.

    The next step is to write my ideas down in outline form, fill out the story and work out the bugs. Unfortunately, on two occasions, I had to start over because the outline revealed major problems.

    You may have uncovered a large flaw if you have made it this far. Why would the character want to get out of trouble? This issue reared its ugly head in the outline of my fifth book. I knew why but did not communicate this logic to the reader. (It was at the outline stage, but the problem was still there.)

    A big part of this missed motivation was the “critical decision.” This is when a character does something BIG without revealing the reasons or details. For example, “Bob killed Fred.” Why? What happened afterward? How did Bob feel about his actions? What did Bob tell people? Well… I assumed the reader had been paying attention and magically knew what was in Bob’s head. Oops.

    When crafting a book, it is essential to think about story flow, which encompasses motivation. I had a bad habit of resolving issues too quickly. I guess rapid problem-solving is part of my engineering personality. Everything must be neat and organized. A story does not read right when an issue remains unresolved. Real authors leave issues unresolved over several chapters. This writing device is called “tension.”

    Readers like prolonged conflicts and having their hands held through the resolution. This addition is the difference between a news report and a novel. One is presentable, and the other is enjoyable.

    I now understand that not all stories have to have deep conflict. A good example is The Zen and Art of Motorcycle Repair by Robert Pirsig. A dad takes his son on a motorcycle road trip. There’s no controversy, adventure, or radical concepts. However, it is a fantastic book everybody should read. Why? Because this book has the best story flow ever. The author goes far over the top to expand the characters and thoroughly explain their motivations in a very mellow way. The plot builds over several chapters and slowly settles into a gentle conclusion.

    What will my future plots hold? I have many ideas that I want to explore, including time traveling to meet Amelia Earhart. The good news is that my storytelling (in my mind) is improving. The bad news is that I still want to run through my plots on one page. I got to work on that.

    You’re the best -Bill

    May 27, 2023

    Hey book lovers, I published three! Please check them out.

    Interviewing Immortality is a psychological thriller about a 500-year-old woman who forces a disgraced author to interview her.

    Pushed to the Edge of Survival is a drama, romance, and science fiction story about two unlikely people surviving a shipwreck and living with the consequences.

    Cable Ties is a classic spy novel about two hunters discovering that government communications are being recorded and the ensuing FBI investigation.     These books are available in soft-cover on Amazon and eBook format everywhere.