#study essentials masterpost

[barblaz-arts]

I've come back to drop some Next Gen Nevermore lore, this time about Sora and Regine's parents 💕

Yukiko Toriyama

Because of my love for parallels, she's a doctor to match the adult characters in the show (Principal - Weems/Bianca; Sheriff - Galpin/Walker). She's a surgeon though, not a therapist like Kinbott, but still a doctor!

Yukiko's around Wednesday and co's age, so she was also in Jericho High when they were in Nevermore. She has a huge respect for Outcasts, thinking that they are very cool. In fact, she thought this one siren girl that she first saw during Outreach Day was especially cool. Soon she will find out that her name is Bianca Barclay and that her classmate Lucas Walker will end up dating her.

She met Sora's father some time after graduating from high school. She fell for his confidence, and was especially impressed that he was an Outcast. Unfortunately she realized too late that he's all talk. When she got pregnant with Sora, his rich parents essentially sent her hush money, which she accepted and used to pay for med school. Sora's grandparents helped raise her while Yukiko finished her studies, so she wasn't as present as she probably should have been during Sora's childhood. She tries her best though, really.

Hugo Schuyler

Sora's father. He came from a rich and reputable family of psychics that specialize in spirits, also known as Herons. Because of his family's reputation, he developed a huge ego and has delusions of grandeur.

He's a glutton for attention, a trait that Sora unfortunately inherited as she also always makes an effort to fit in with "the popular crowd" among her peers. However unlike Sora who is ashamed of her outcast status and prefers to hide her power, Hugo has a superiority complex and overcompensates for his weak psychic abilities by being obnoxiously loud about his outcast status and his family's name.

He ends up starting a YouTube channel as a paranormal investigator after Nevermore. When he finds out he has a daughter, he's quick to head over to Nevermore and rope Sora into his paranormal shenanigans. No, it doesn't end up being a cute father-daughter bonding activity.

He sees both Wednesday and Enid as rivals. Wednesday for her formidable psychic powers (and reputation!), Enid for, well, her more successful YouTube channel(which isn't even hers, it's the Wolf Preserve's). Wednesday does not remember him from their high school days though, and Enid purposely mixes him up with Xavier when addressing him.

Vega hates him because he thinks aliens don't exist.

Erica Gutierrez

(I don't have her design and personality fully conceptualized yet, sorry)

Erica is Eugene's ex-wife and is a famous actress who started out when she was a teenager. She used to be a celebrity crush of Eugene's when he was in Nevermore, and dating and marrying her was a dream come true that sadly didn't last.

Erica makes an effort to see Regine when she can, and she usually has her daughter stay with her throughout the summer. Her fame comes with its own cons, particularly the excessive attention she(and by extension her family) gets hugely contributing to Regine's overly reclusive personality.

Erica had nothing to do with Outcasts before meeting Eugene and is every bit of a Normie. She and Wednesday never liked each other. She gets along well with Enid because she thinks Enid is normal enough when she isn't wolfed out. Enid likes her for getting her Michelle Yeoh's autograph and a video message as a birthday gift once. (Wednesday hates that Eugene's ex wife of all people showed her up that year)

None of the Nevermore student knew Regine's mother was a celebrity until Erica decided to give her daughter a surprise visit during Family Day(coincidentally the same day Hugo goes to meet Sora. It was a long weekend for the girls)

(masterpost for my AUs here)

EDIT: I ALMOST FORGOT!

Partial credit to @whitebeltwriter for coming up with Yukiko's background with me. I no longer remember which parts were my idea and which is hers, but pls know that it was a collaborative effort

[bitchy-craft]

The Water Method: Manifestation Methods

Hello and welcome to this new post of mine! I decided to make a new series, this time about manifesting methods. I hope you find this useful and enjoy.

Masterpost > Paid Readings > Subliminal Channel

What it is used for:

The Water Manifestation Method is essentially a method that is used for absolutely anything. As long as you have desires to manifest you can use this method. This is because the method itself isn't directly connected to anything specific; it connects you with your desires, whether that is love, career, money, appearance, studies etc.

Instructions:

1. Choose a container

To do this method you need something like a container or a glass. Some people believe it is best to use a glass, or a glass container since many believe glass is something that holds energy very well, especially better than plastic (this is why many witches put their spells in glass jars also).

2. Find a comfortable environment

Find a place in which it is quiet, or where you can focus. It is also a good idea to make sure you cannot be disturbed as you do this, just to be able to really focus on your intent. Of course, this isn't doable for anyone and definitely not mandatory, but it can really help.

3. Fill the glass with water

Fill your container or glass with water, how much you want it to be filled completely depends on you; what you feel works, works. Then, make sure to hold your container or glass eith both your hands for the next step.

4. Focus on your intention

Make sure to focus on your intention as you hold your container or glass with your hands. Focus on your intention and feel that energy through your arms, through your hands into this water. Do this as long as you feel is neccesary.

5. Drink the water

Drink the water from your container or glass, and try to imagine feeling that energy and intention streaming through your body. If you want you can think of some affirmations as you do so as well.

[glowettee]

°❀⋆welcome to glowettee | mindy°❀⋆

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hi, angel ✨ welcome to my little corner of the internet—glowettee.

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⋆⭒˚｡⋆꙳✧₊˚✧꙳⋆˚hi loves! ♡ i'm mindy, the gentle soul behind this cozy space. thank you for stumbling upon my little corner of the internet where i share whispers of productivity, sprinkles of academia, and drops of lifestyle magic.⋆⭒˚｡⋆꙳✧₊˚✧꙳⋆˚

⋆｡°✩ about the girl behind the blog ⋆｡°✩

↳ perpetual coffee drinker with a passion for pretty notes ↳ advocate for gentle productivity & mindful living ↳ lover of soft aesthetics & pastel color schemes ↳ firm believer in creating beauty in everyday moments ↳ your study companion through late night sessions ↳ always searching for the perfect study spot ↳ collector of cute stationery & washi tapes ↳ dedicated to helping others bloom academically + romanticize your life

↳ obsessed with self-improvement, self-love, and improving your life overall <33

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main series & guides: ↳ ๋࣭ ⭑Preparing for next semester series | masterpost by mindy @glowettee - complete guide for preparing for a semester

↳.⋆𐙚 🍒Study Guide Master list.⋆𐙚 🍒 | Glowettee's Masterlist for studying - masterlist of study guides

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this schedule is a base, it isn't always consistent, knowing i make series' sporadically.

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⋆｡°✩ finding me in other corners of the internet ⋆｡°✩

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⋆｡°✩ current series in progress ⋆｡°✩

↳ The Academic Weapon Series - by mindy @glowettee - series with guides for becoming an amazing student ↳ 'digital notes guide' - the ultimate guides for digital note-taking ↳ 'ultimate guide for creating a coquette tumblr blog'

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thank you for being here, lovely. i hope this space brings you comfort, inspiration, and motivation for your journey. you're always welcome.

sending gentle productivity vibes & warm hugs

♡ mindy

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[knight-a3]

Hazbin Hotel Sketchbook 2: Part 12

Masterpost

This is the continuation of the 1920s studies I was doing a few posts ago. I've got some commentary on that, which I'll put under a cut. Long story short, I was developing my Mimzy redesign.

Dancing poses suit Alastor. It's fun to draw.

1920s style Niffty is a bonus.

I'm no historical fashion expert, but I did enough research for a fictional setting that would have influences from modern fashion as well. It's a nice cop out.

Notes under the cut

In the 1920s, the fashion was thin, straight lines, and a dropped waistline. But basically, the style was a dress that fit like a potato sack. A pretty potato sack. The stereotypical fringed flapper dress did not typically happen. More common was pleats, ruffles, and tiers. The dress would always extend below the knee. They were scandalous for the time, but not THAT scandalous.

1920s favored hair styles that were essentially plastered to the head. I experimented with that, but did not like the change to her silhouette. So I ended up doing something that resembles stylized finger waves. They're less rigid.

While I appreciate the variety with Mimzy as a more heavy-set character, she is honestly the worst shape for showing off 1920s fashion. Plus sized girls would likely compensate by wearing clothes with vertical lines, since those help create an illusion of thinness. So I altered her dress to include that. But I did take some liberties with the form fit on her dress. I can cheat and say it's a modern influence.

Beyond the fashion, Mimzy looked a tad too human compared to most sinners. So I tried to incorporate a few design elements to help her look a little more demonic. I wanted to incorporate peacock elements, since she is such a show off and attention hog. So her color palette (which is obviously not shown here), has more blues and greens. This was also to add a bit more color variety to the cast in general.

An idea I had was that, in life, she was a wannabe showgirl or actress. But since she didn't exactly match the beauty standards of the time, she kept getting rejected. So her demon appearance has face markings that resemble mascara running down her face from crying.

I gave her vampire fangs because of her tendency to leech off others. As shown by her using Alastor to take care of her loan shark problem. Man had been missing for 7 years, and the first thing she does is dump her problems on him.

[threecheersforsuccess]

I've been yapping for too many years, so I need a living masterpost of the guides and blogs from my Tumblr and Instagram. I feel some of my old work might be outdated, so please take my wording with a chunk of salt.

I'll update my with my content as I go.

Stuff from 2024

♡ What's in my bag? (2024)

My Motivation Education Video Series (2022-2023)

♡ Part 0: Something Much Needed Among Students: Motivation ♡ Part 1: Bare Bones Definition of Motivation ♡ Part 2: Self-efficacy, I think ♡ Part 3: Where is the control? ♡ Part 4: Reward or Autopilot ♡ Part 5: Determination to Continue ♡ Part 6: Personal Interest ♡ Part 7: Outside The Model ♡ Part 8: Where is the willpower? ♡ Part 9: Is stress even a bad thing? Note: I stopped because I did not like the short video format. I'm not sure if I may pick this up again, but I do think the lessons I learned from my readings are pretty neat :)

5am.Raining's Studying Challenge (2022)

Note: A challenge led by my cool mutual 5am.raining on Instagram. I slowly figure out how to make videos. It's a little wonky at the beginning, but I find my style! I made these posts in 2022 ♡ Poorly Filmed Day in My Life! ♡ My Studying Role Model... Haruhi from Ouran... ♡ Fave Leader in My Field: Carol Dweck ♡ What gets me in the mood to study? ♡ What I want to do with my degree... ♡ My Fave Reading Assignment ♡ Study Tunes ♡ How to get back into reading books ♡ Favorite study supplies ♡ Planning Routine (2022 version) ♡ Organizing My Desk ♡ What's in my backpack? ♡ Inspiring Film or Doc on My Field ♡ Imposter Syndrome ♡ "Study Buddy" ♡ Coping with Long Study Sessions

Flipd Productivity and Motivation Challenge Blogs

Note: I yapped so hard I won the productivity challenge. I wrote these around junior year of college (2021). ♡ Long-Term Destination, Short-Term Motivation: Living in The Moment ♡ Embedding Self-forgiveness in Your Self-Care ♡ Study Essentials ♡ The Importance of Play and Breaks ♡ Quote of Week Analysis: Self-Acceptance ♡ How I Plan My Everyday ♡ The Biggest Time Management Misconception I'm Trying to Get Over ♡ Recognizing Burnout (and Listening to Yourself) ♡ Building an Academic Support System ♡ Ways to Make Yourself Take Breaks ♡ The Challenges of a Positive Mindset ♡ How I Build Habits (based on James Clear's Atomic Habits)

Diana's Studying Challenge (2021)

Note: A challenge lead by my cool mutual dianas.desk on Instagram. I made these posts in 2021. Day 1: Challenge Introduction Day 2: What Gets Me Motivated Day 3: Cleaning My Desk Day 4: Study Tunes/Songs I Listen and Avoid Day 5: Current Books I'm Reading Day 6: Relaxation! Arknights Projekt Red Bullet Journal Spread Day 7: My Happy Place Day 8: Week Reflection Day 9: How I Plan Day 10: My Summer 2021 Work Routine Day 11: My Desk Essentials Day 12: Study Snack (Natto) Day 13: Digital or Paper Notes? Which is Better? Day 14: How I Self-Care Day 15: My School Bag Day 16: Proudest Achievement Day 17: Most Favorite Productivity App/Website Blocker Day 18: Work Buddies Day 19: Inspirational Quotes Day 20: My Favorite Place to Work Day 21: #MessyDesk Day 22: Guilty Pleasure Day 23: My Favorite Study Accounts Day 24: Study Methods I Do Not Like Day 25: Trying out a new place to work? Day 26: Part 2 of My Unconventional Study Tips (same as above) Day 27: My Outfit Day 28: Making a Gratitude List Day 29: My Aspirations Day 30: Today I learned… Day 31: September Goals

My Study Tips

Note: I wrote many of these either in 2020 or very early on (2017-2018). Super old stuff. ♡ Unconventional Study Tips Part 1 + Part 2 ♡ One Effective Memorization Tip ♡ Dealing with Bad Grades: What I Do ♡ How to get 800 on the SAT in Math and Full Points on Grammar ♡ Causes of Procrastination + Methods for Each ♡ How to Study When Unmotivated ♡ Making Your Discord Study Space ♡ Ways to Go to Bed Early ♡ My Super Ultimate Guide to AP Calc AB and BC ♡ Using Your Phone Productively (2018)

Journaling

♡ How I Journal (2017) ♡ How I Use My Notebooks (2018) ♡ How to Keep a Daily Journal (2020) ♡ How to Get into Creative Journaling (2022)

Dividers by @fairytopea

[odyssean-flower]

The Winding Path of Fate Chapter 13 - Summer: Nighttime Perils

Masterpost

Pairing: Neuvillette x Female Reader Summary: A terrible incident occurs during preparations for your first meeting with Furina as Neuvillette’s wife.

Warnings: Assault, injury, drunk people Note: If you want to be on the taglist for this fic, please make a reply to this post, send a message or send a private ask

Have a pic of Neuvillette in Domus Aurea

Previous | Next

“I’ve got nothing to wear…”   

Uttering that complaint for what felt like the thousandth time, you flopped down onto your bed, which looked as though your closet had exploded all over it. Not for the first time, you lamented the excess of practical, modest, and exceedingly plain clothing in your wardrobe.  

It was said that the clothes one wore reflected the soul. In that case, your soul was fully on display to an embarrassing extent.   

You pictured you and Neuvillette standing next to each other. Though his outfits didn’t vary much in color or style, they were always elegant and well put together, befitting his status and position. Meanwhile, with your sensible sweaters and plain knee-length skirts, looked more like the Chief Justice’s secretary than his wife. That wouldn’t be a problem normally, and in fact, it would be preferrable due to the secretive nature of your marriage. But this particular occasion wasn’t normal.  

Furina had agreed to the meeting. By Neuvillette’s account, she was most enthusiastic about it. It would be taking place in three days and held in his office.   

The bravado you had felt before in his cozy study, as you brushed his long, silky hair, had all but dissipated by now. Instead, you were left with a growing anxiety and doubt that gnawed at your mind.  

The chief of them being, Will this go smoothly without any incident?  

It was true that your great-grandparents had personally met with Furina (it had become somewhat of a point of pride), but this was very different from a mere appointment to ask for a favor from the Archon. In your case, you were going to present yourself to her as the wife of Chief Justice.   

You were well aware that this whole meeting was a chance for Furina to probe at your marriage and more specifically, you.   

Anything strange, out of the ordinary, or unusual would be pounced upon by the drama-loving Archon. Therefore, you had to maintain a perfect, unassailable front. You had to present yourself as someone who looked like she could be Neuvillette’s spouse. That started with appearance. Unfortunately, that was the biggest hurdle you were facing right now.  

You never had a problem with your wardrobe until now. Sure, your clothes weren’t the trendiest or most luxurious, but they were durable and comfortable, and you took pride in the fact that you took good care of them, mending tears and ironing out wrinkles regularly. You considered wearing the black semi-formal dress you wore for interviews at the Palais Mermonia for the governess license qualification process, but it seemed too plain and austere for the occasion.  

As the first person in your family to meet with the Hydro Archon in generations, and as Neuvillette’s wife, you needed to make a good impression.  

“Well, your tastes certainly lean more towards the practical, Madame,” Marie said. She was sitting on a chair and carefully looking through your clothes. You had asked her to come to your room as a second opinion. “It wouldn’t be a bad idea to go shopping for clothes that are more befitting of your current status.”  

“A status that I will lose at the year’s end,” you reminded her, but you didn’t disagree with her suggestion. As someone who was raised by frugal parents, you were more prone to saving up your Mora and only spending when it was necessary. That was what you did with the allowance that Neuvillette gave you, but…perhaps the time had finally come to use it. After all, one could make the argument that nice clothes were essential in situations where you had to make a good impression, and let’s face it, Neuvillette wasn’t exactly hard up for money…  

The fashionable but expensive clothes that you could only admire from afar until now came to mind. Now, you had the means to obtain them for yourself. You felt little bubbles of excitement in your stomach at the thought.   

“I suppose I’ll be hitting up the shopping district tomorrow,” you said, sitting up. “It’s long overdue, anyways.”  

“Indeed, Madame,” Marie looked very excited for some reason. “Honestly, Monsieur Neuvillette should have taken you out shopping a long time ago.”   

“He’s always busy, so it can’t really be helped. He already gave me plenty of money to spend anyway, so I can just shop on my own. Besides, does he even enjoy doing things like shopping?”  

“Mm-hmm,” Marie sounded like she wanted to say something, but held her tongue. “In any case, he is in for a wonderful surprise to see you all dressed up.”  

“I’m not doing it for him ,” you protested, even as you had to admit that you were curious to see Neuvillette’s reaction to you in clothes that you didn’t normally wear. What would he say? What expression would he make? Would he like them?   

You hoped he would. No, you wanted him to.   

“Perhaps you could model your outfit for him when he comes home tonight,” Marie carried on, seemingly not hearing what you just said.

“That’s a good idea,” you said. The idea hadn’t occurred to you. And while you were at it, you should have a discussion with him about what you were going to say to Furina. You had to come up with a good story to tell.  

“I don’t know what I’d do without you,” you told Marie as you folded up your clothes to put them back in your closet. “You’re always so full of good advice.”  

“If only my own children thought the same way as you, Madame,” she laughed.  

s you stared in bewilderment at the row of high-end boutiques stretching out before you, you couldn’t help but feel that you were in way over your head.  

The low, colorful buildings sparkling in the sun reminded you of jewelry boxes that looked too expensive to touch, lest you leave a smudge on them. The impeccably dressed and coiffed shop clerks standing in front of their doors smiled invitingly and greeted passersby, but their eyes reminded you of the mothers working tirelessly at every ball you had attended—sizing up everyone who walked by and trying to sniff out the ones whose wallets were in need of a little lightening.   

But what intimidated you the most was the sheer variety of shops. You were surrounded on every side by fashionable clothing in a multitude of colors, sizes, and styles. Every time you saw something you liked, another caught your eye that you liked even more. This particular district was very different from the usual, more limited selection of stores that you usually visited. Now that you had the money to spend, you were quickly learning that having more choice wasn’t necessarily more convenient.  

It would be so much easier if I had my sister with me, or my friends, you thought wistfully , but quickly put it out of your mind. They would no doubt pepper you with questions you had no idea how to answer. You still weren’t sure what you were going to say to Furina yet.  

Just as you were standing there, uncertain as to what to do, you heard a familiar high-pitched voice calling out to you. “Madame! I didn’t know you were going shopping today!”  

You turned and saw a group of Melusines and, for some reason, Clorinde, walking towards you. These Melusines all worked for the Marechausee Phantom, but they were in civilian clothing instead of their uniforms. Perhaps this was their day off.  

“Oh, hello, everyone,” you greeted them. “Something came up suddenly, so I needed to do some clothes shopping right away.”  

“Something came up suddenly?” The Melusine who called out to you—Rhemia was her name—repeated. Her expression then changed, and she grinned, as though a realization hit her. “Oh, I get it! It certainly is a very urgent matter, then.”  

The other Melusines seemed to have also caught on to whatever it was, as they all giggled. You had a bad feeling that they were under some kind of mistaken assumption, but as Clorinde was here, you couldn’t correct them. “Can we join you, then? We’re also about to go shopping for clothes.”  

“Sure, that would be lovely,” you said. It was good to have company, even if you weren’t sure if the Melusines, with their unique perception of color and style, would be very helpful.   

Your gaze shifted to Clorinde, who had been standing silently behind the Melusines until now. Her face showed no hint of what she was thinking. It was as though this was the first time you had met each other.  

“Hello, Miss Clorinde,” you greeted her, not wanting to make things awkward. “Are you out shopping as well?”  

She shook her head. “The girls asked me to come along, and as I had some free time, I agreed.” She paused, then added, “I did not know you were married, Madame [Name].”  

“Just [Name] is fine,” you quickly said. “Or Madame, like everyone else does.”  

Clorinde had seen you walking with Neuvillette in the early morning, and now she learned that you were married. It didn’t take a genius to connect the dots.  

Fortunately, she didn’t question you any further, nor show much emotion to the revelation. Neuvillette said that she wasn’t the type to gossip, so you supposed there wasn’t anything to worry about for now.  

“Come on, Madame,” Rhemia was tugging on your hand, pulling you towards the nearest shop. “There’s no time to waste!”  

The sun shined brightly down upon your little group, heralding the start of a long day.  

There is a certain danger in shopping with others, you thought as you trudged back home, hands laden with shopping bags.   

You had assumed that you were just going to buy a few new outfits. But somehow, you ended up buying a whole new wardrobe, plus more things that you weren’t even sure you needed, like accessories, makeup, and even perfume.  

Despite that, you felt a sense of tired contentment, the kind that came after a long day of satisfying work and ample rewards. It had been a very long time since you enjoyed a day out with a group of friends. It was also a nice feeling, being able to spend money on whatever you wanted without worrying about the price or whether you actually needed it. You now understood why the ladies of the upper class frequented the shops every day. What a frightening slippery slope.   

You were certainly feeling the effects of it right now—it felt like your arms were about to fall off. Come to think of it, I do wonder if these clothes would all fit in my suitcase when the time comes to leave. Perhaps I should get another one…  

Clorinde, who seemed stoic and aloof at first, was surprisingly easygoing, if not very talkative, as you had discovered during the course of the day. She knew the best shops and had plenty of good advice on what to pick and wear.  

She had offered to help you carry your bags home, but you declined. You weren’t sure how much she knew about your relationship with Neuvillette, but it was better not to assume anything.   

“I could go and fetch Monsieur Neuvillette instead,” she said.   

You were aghast. “I couldn’t ask him to drop his work for such a trivial matter,” you protested.  

“I don’t believe he would see it that way,” Clorinde said. “Besides, he’ll be off work soon.”  

Still, you couldn’t bring yourself to ask Neuvillette to come all the way here just to help you carry your bags. He would have to make a detour on his usual route home from the Palais. He should have a leisurely rest at home after a long day at work.  

There was another, sillier, reason behind your decision—you wanted to surprise him.  

You couldn’t help but picture his reaction to the clothes you and the others picked out. Would he like them? Secretly, you hoped he would. You wondered what he would say. You wondered how he would look at you.  

The thought of being looked at by him, for whatever reason, sent a shiver down your spine. All your life, you had become accustomed to being overlooked, to being invisible. It wasn’t a bad feeling at all. While others had the spotlight cast upon them, you were happy to remain in the shadows, free to do whatever you wanted. True, it bothered you sometimes that you might be a ghost in the lives of others, only remembered as a presence in the background, but surely the benefits outweighed the negatives, right?  

But Neuvillette was different. He was always looking directly at you. When you were with him, you felt more…solid. Like you mattered. Like you had some importance in his life—to him. It was wishful thinking that you shouldn’t entertain, but from time to time, you succumbed to it.  

After you parted ways with everyone, you slowly walked back home. You weren’t very familiar with this area, but as it was still daylight out and there were plenty of people walking around, you weren’t worried.   

Then, suddenly, you spotted a used bookshop tucked between a flower shop and a jewelry store. Your eyes would have skipped over it if you hadn’t seen the store sign.  

You eagerly made your way inside and was greeted with the invigorating scent of old books. After saying hello to the owner, you disappeared between the floor-to-ceiling bookshelves. Mysteries, romances, fantasy…they called to you with their siren songs, but you didn’t stop until you reached the one section you were looking for—the history section.  

You let out an embarrassing squeal once you reached the shelf. Luckily, there was no one around to hear you.    

The shelf was filled with everything from glossy textbooks to jacketless tomes that went out of print decades ago. Not even the library had some of these books. And they were all at reasonable prices, too… Oh, but I’m already carrying so many things. I can’t possibly buy these heavy books as well. But what if someone buys them before me?   

There was a comfy-looking couch nearby that was beckoning you to curl up on it with a book. Well, just one read wouldn’t hurt, right?  

You picked a book at random. This one was titled Boethius: Harmost and Villain. It was right up your alley, and it wasn’t too thick. You could probably finish this one in an hour. You sat down on the couch and immersed yourself in its world.  

“Miss, we’re closing soon.”  

A voice broke through your reverie. It belonged to the store owner.  

“Huh…?” you blink up at her, feeling as though you had just emerged from underwater. “O-Oh! I’m sorry, I completely lost track of time…”  

You hurriedly got up and reshelved the stack of books next to you. Feeling bad that you didn’t end up purchasing anything, you inwardly promised to come back here tomorrow.   

As you made your way to the door, you stopped in shock. It was completely dark outside. How long had you been reading?  

Ugh, this always happens. Once you got absorbed in a book, hours could pass in the blink of an eye.  

“Be careful out there, Miss,” the owner told you, and you nodded, bidding her good night.   

The sun had mostly set, the stores around you were all closed, and there were few pedestrians on the streets.  

Luckily, you could still see the Palais Mermonia soaring high above the city. If you headed towards it, you would surely be able to find your way back home. With that in mind, you walked on ahead quickly.  

I should have asked the bookshop owner for directions, you thought as you turned down a narrow lane, but you weren’t sure if you could find your way back. The streetlights were coming on, but the harsh, dark shadows they cast made you speed up a little bit more. I could ask it to stop near Neuvillette’s neighborhood and walk the rest of the way back…  

However, you saw no carriages around. In fact, there was no one around at all. Oh Archons, I made a huge mistake!  

Even back in your sleepy little hometown, your parents always cautioned you to never stay out late. You heeded their advice in the Court of Fontaine as well, very conscious of the fact that it wasn’t rare for young ladies like you to get kidnapped off the streets. And yet, here you were, ripe for the picking with your arms laden with shopping bags.  

I’m an idiot, I’m an idiot, I’m an idiot… you berated yourself in your head as you quickened your footsteps, your heart racing. Your earlier refusal of Clorinde’s offer to accompany you home now seemed to you a stupid, short-sighted decision.   

I’ll just stay close to the streetlights for now, you decided. You fixed your gaze on the Palais and tried to focus on reaching it. Deep, calming breaths, [Name]…almost there…  

However, every time it seemed that you were on the verge of reaching it, a sudden turn or twist in the road would divert you further away from it. Eventually, you had to admit that you were hopelessly lost.  

What’s worse, this particular area you found yourself in had a shady air to it that raised the hairs on the back of your neck. You weren’t sure if this was one of the less savory parts of town you had always been warned about, but it sure felt like it. The darkened windows of the buildings felt like eyes staring down at you. Maybe you were being watched. No, don’t be paranoid, you told yourself, but to no avail.   

In any case, I have to get out of here.   

But just then, a figure emerged from the shadows ahead of you, heading in your direction. Your steps faltered slightly when you saw that it was a burly man dressed in a surprisingly fine business suit. He was swaying from side to side and muttering to himself. A drunk?  

Instinctively, you tightened your grip on your bags and stuck close to the shadows. Perhaps he would be too drunk to notice you.  

Unluckily, just as you were about to pass him, he called out to you in a slurred, hoarse voice.  

“Lovely evening, eh, Miss?”  

Even from here, you could smell the stink of alcohol on his breath. His eyes were glazed over, and he was teetering on his feet. He must be terribly drunk.  

“...Mm,” you said, giving him a brief nod and not looking him in the eye. You tried to sidle past him, but he grabbed your upper arm. His fingers were thick and sweaty, his grip firm. Goosebumps rose on your body.  

“Where ya going in such a hurry, huh? Why dontcha join me for a drink?”   

You tried to shake him off, but he didn’t budge. In fact, his hold on your arm only tightened. That’s going to leave a bruise in the morning, your thought distantly.  

“Hey, why aren’t ya talking? You a mute or something?”  

You pursed your lips and gave him the nastiest glare you could manage, even as you felt your heart threatening to burst out of your chest. Reasoning with a drunk, especially an aggressive one like him, was futile. You should scream for help. The other end of the alley was not that far away. Maybe a patrolling Garde would hear you.   

You took a deep breath and was about to let out a scream, but barely a squeak left your mouth before the man’s meaty hand clamped over your mouth. For a drunk, his reflexes were fast.  

The man turned your head to look at him. His face was redder than before. It was from anger. “Not a mute after all, eh? Whatcha going around screaming for? I just wanted to have a nice little chat with ya. Why don’t we go back to my place and get t’know each other better?”  

Oh no, he’s going to drag me away somewhere! It all felt so unreal, like it was happening to someone else. Fear gripped your heart, and you did the only thing you could do in the situation—you bit down on his palm so hard that you drew blood.  

“Fuck!” the man shouted in pain and let out a string of curses. His grip loosened, allowing you to shake him off and run as fast as you could to the end of the alley, which suddenly seemed a whole other world away. You pumped your already-tired legs, pushing them to their limit, but the heavy bags in your hands slowed you down. You should throw them away, but sweat glued their straps to your palms and there was no time to stop and pull them off.   

You heard the man shouting curses and his heavy footsteps as he chased after you. He was catching up to you quickly.  

Fate must enjoy playing cruel jokes on you, for rain began to pour down heavily at that very moment.  

It got into your eyes and soaked into your clothes. The stone-paved road suddenly became hazardous. Every time your feet almost slipped on the wet stones, panic threatened to overwhelm you.   

After what seemed like a lifetime, you reached the end of the alley—only to be met with a crossroads. Which path to take? With your blurred vision, you couldn’t see the Palais Mermonia or anything at all.   

You dared to look back, and your heart nearly stopped. The man was right on your heels, his face a hideous twisted mask of rage. He lunged at you, and you managed to dodge in time. He fell forward, landing on the ground with a heavy thud. You were about to run away, but your feet twisted under you. You tripped.  

Oh, I think I twisted my ankle... Pain blossomed in your right ankle, your knee, and your palms. You tried to pull yourself up, but the man’s large hand clamped around your hurt ankle, holding you in place. His grip tightened, and you could practically hear your bones grind against each other. You gasped as white-hot pain lanced up your leg. He’s going to break it...!  

“You little bitch...you’ll pay for that!” the man growled. He was trying to drag you towards him, and you scrabbled desperately at the ground for something to hold onto, but it was no use. “Who d’you think you are, biting me ?”  

“Heard there’s some guy lookin’ to buy girls. I think I’ll sell ya to him. It’ll serve you right!” the man continued to rant and rave. He didn’t seem to feel the rain at all. There was a strange light in his eyes. Was he really drunk on alcohol? You had no idea. All you wanted to do was get away.  

“My husband knows I’m gone! He’ll come looking for me!” you shouted, but even you knew it was an empty threat. There was no way Neuvillette would know where you were right now, right?  

The rain... The image of Neuvillette standing in the rain came to mind. There was a connection between him and rain. You didn’t know what it was, but it definitely existed.   

It was an absurd, baseless idea, but you were out of options. “Neuvillette!” you screamed. “Neuvi--ah!”  

Your ankle was squeezed even harder. He really was going to snap it in two at this rate. How can anyone be so strong?  

“Shut the fuck up! Ain't no one here to help you now, not even—” he suddenly let out a scream of agony. His grip on your ankle slackened.  

You stared at the sight in front of you, feeling as though your brain skipped a few seconds ahead in time.  

Just a moment before, it was only the two of you in this alley...until it wasn’t.   

There was a heel grinding into the hand grabbing your ankle. You knew even before looking up who it belonged to.  

Neuvillette was standing above the two of you, his cane in hand. There was a wavering blue light behind him. His face was an emotionless mask, but his eyes seemed to be glowing, figuratively and literally. They were filled with a cold hatred—no, something even more primal and basic than that. It was as though he was looking down at a worm, something far beneath him.  

For the first time since you knew him, you thought he seemed completely inhuman.  

The man was whimpering in pain. He tried to heave himself up, but couldn’t. He turned to look at who was stepping on his hand and gasped. “M-Monsieur Neuvillette? W-What...how...”  

“You are under arrest, Mr. Moreau, for assault,” Neuvillette’s voice was low and deep, carrying well even in the cacophony in the rain. Like his expression, it was void of emotion, but you thought you could hear something else behind it, like a shadow lurking in the depths of the sea. “The Gardes will be here shortly. I suggest you prepare yourself.”  

The man seemed too overwhelmed to speak. All he could do was stare up at Neuvillette blankly, his mouth opening and closing like a fish. You weren’t any better yourself.  

Seeming to no longer deem the man a threat, Neuvillette immediately turned to you. The terrible look from before was gone, replaced with naked worry and relief. “Madame!” he helped you sit up, then quickly took off his coat and wrapped it around you. “Can you walk?”  

You simply stared at him, unable to speak. In the distance, you heard shouts and footsteps running over here. It was probably the Gardes.  

His question registered a few seconds later, and you shook your head. Your ankle felt as though it was on fire. You didn’t want to look at it.   

Neuvillette studied your ankle, his brow creased with worry. His fingers brushed against the skin, and you let out a yelp. “My apologies,” he said quickly, pain flashing across his features. “I shall take you to the infirmary right away.”  

The Gardes had arrived by then and became busy with arresting the man—Moreau. Neuvillette spoke a few words to them, then turned back to you. “I shall be carrying you in my arms now,” he whispered in your ear. “I’ll ask a Garde to bring your bags to the infirmary.” He hooked an arm under your knees and circled the other around your waist, lifting you and holding you close to his chest. He seemed uncaring of the fact there were others around. None of them were looking your way, though.  

“Madame, you’re safe now,” he murmured. He sounded like the Neuvillette you had always known. That, along with the gentle warmth and crisp cologne that suffused his coat wrapped around you, finally thawed your frozen emotions.  

“Neuvillette...I was so scared!” Hot tears spilled down your cheeks, and you buried your face in his wet shirt, sobbing into his chest. “If you hadn’t shown up, he would have...!  

“There is no need to say anything more,” he whispered. He was now walking away from the scene. “I am with you now. No one can harm you any longer. The emergency room is not too far away. A carriage will bring us there.”  

His hand combed through the strands of your wet hair. The motions were awkward, but they brought you a comfort sweeter than anything you had known.  

Maybe it was just your imagination, but the rain seemed to abate with every stroke of his hands.  

At the emergency room, a nurse examined your ankle and declared that while it was badly sprained, it was not broken. An ice pack and bandages were applied to it, with instructions to rest in bed the next day and to change the ice pack every few hours. Your knee and upper arm were bruised, and your palms were scraped, but other than that, you weren’t seriously injured.   

The nurse also helped you change into dry clothes. Miraculously, your newly-brought clothes were mostly unscathed from the rain, so you chose a sweater and pants. She also offered you a hot cup of coffee, which you gratefully accepted.   

Not long after that, a Garde came to question you about the incident and record the injuries you sustained. It mercifully didn’t take very long.  

“Would I have to testify in court?” you asked Neuvillette nervously after the two of you were finally left alone. He had been with you through all of this, silently sitting at your bedside and rarely leaving it. You couldn’t help but wonder what other people thought of this, but mostly you were just glad for his steady presence.  

“It may not come to that,” Neuvillette said slowly, which was not reassuring to hear. “You have given your statement, and there is enough evidence for a prompt conviction without requiring victim testimony. And with the past history of the accused...”  

He trailed off, a shadow passing over his face. “You knew that man—Moreau,” you said.  

“Yes. Mr. Moreau is a wealthy businessman with many high-ranking friends in government. I have met him at several functions, and, well...you will have to excuse me for refraining from speaking of his character due to my involvement in this case. It has long been suspected that he has been engaging in various underhanded dealings, but no concrete evidence has ever been found. But to think that he would even stoop to human trafficking...it’s simply unconscionable.”  

You wondered why a man like that would be walking around the streets drunk and attacking people. If he was so good at concealing his crimes, surely he wouldn’t do something so stupid and brazen that would get him arrested. You recalled his hideous mask of a face and the eerie light in his eyes and shivered. Neuvillette, seeing this, reached out and took your hand in his, squeezing it. You could feel his wedding ring pressing into your fingers through his glove.  

“There is no need for us to dwell on this any longer,” he murmured, rubbing circles in the back of your hand with his thumb. “Focus on recovery. If there is anything that is required of you, you will be given ample notice beforehand.”  

You stared into his eyes. You would never admit this to anyone, but you enjoyed looking at them. They were the most expressive part of his face—which wasn’t saying very much—and you thought you had become rather good at grasping the emotions flickering behind them, like trying to catch a slippery fish in a pond. Right now, you would say that there was a mix of lingering panic and an earnest desire to make you feel better.  

“Thank you,” you whispered, feeling tears well up in your eyes again. Neuvillette took out another handkerchief from his breast pocket and handed it to you. You dabbed your eyes.   

“I only wish that I had gotten there sooner,” he said, and you could feel the regret and anger at himself rolling off him like waves. “So that I could spare you from having to go through something so traumatic.”  

“Don’t blame yourself. It was all my fault. If only I hadn’t gotten distracted by books and lost track of time, if only I had familiarized myself with the roads more, none of this would have happened. I made you worry about me. It’s what I deserve.” You had recounted everything that happened to him while riding in the carriage. He must think I’m an idiot who can’t even take care of herself, you looked down in shame.   

“Madame, please look at me,” Gentle fingers tilted your chin up, his lavender eyes transfixing you. “None of this is your fault, not a single bit of it. A bit of absentmindedness does not deserve punishment. The only party in the wrong here has been taken into custody and will receive a fitting sentence for his crimes.”  

“...Mm,” you managed to nod. His face was very close to yours. From this distance, you could see every single one of his long eyelashes in stark detail. For some reason, your heart started beating faster again.  

“So...how did you find me?” you moved away from him a little, though you left your hand in his. “I did tell Marie that I was going to the shopping district, but I don’t think I was anywhere near there by the time you found me.”  

“Marie told me where you went when I returned home in the early evening. When you didn’t return home by dinner time, we became worried, so I went out in search of you and asked the Gardes to assist. Then, I heard you screaming my name and followed it.”  

“Hmm...I see,” it felt like he cut out some important details out of that explanation, but he was clearly not about to divulge his secrets. “The sudden heavy rain must have made it quite difficult,” you said, glancing at him.  

“For the others, perhaps. But it was hardly a hurdle for me.”  

A short silence followed. You wanted to push him for answers a little more, but sensed his discomfort and decided to drop it.  

“You know, we’ve known each other for some time now, but this is the first time I’ve seen you with your cane up close,” you said. “Actually, this was the very first time I’ve seen you so angry. I hope it's never directed at me.”   

The memory of Neuvillette’s look of fury flashed through your mind again. That blue light you saw behind him must have been his glowing horns. It reminded you that he was, in actuality, an unfathomably powerful being.  He could have done much worse to Moreau than merely stepping on his hand.   

“My apologies. Did I scare you?” a small furrow appeared between Neuvillette’s brows, the corners of his lips turning downwards slightly. It was such a contrast from that previous expression that you almost felt like laughing. “I am often unaware as to how my face might appear to others. It is something I try to work on outside of court. Although, I must admit, I was not thinking very amicable thoughts at the time. It might have shown on my face.”  

You mulled his question over. Were you scared of him back then? To be quite honest, your mind was already preoccupied with fear by the time he arrived—there simply wasn’t enough room for more. Yes, you certainly had been shocked at first, but…  

Even if his eyes and horns (that was his horns, wasn’t it?) were glowing, it was still Neuvillette.  

“You should have been even more terrifying,” you told him sincerely. “If you ever do something like this again, you should show up riding on the back of a vishap.”  

He stared at you in bafflement for a few seconds, then turned his head away, but you caught the ghost of a smile on his lips.  

Mentally and physically exhausted by last night’s events, you slept like a log until noon. When you woke up, you were greeted with a platter of all your favorite dishes.  

With the new day and the cozy familiarity of your room, the events of last night seemed like they happened a lifetime ago. The fear had mostly subsided, leaving mortification and regret in its wake, especially as everyone was acting so considerate towards you. Looking back, you had no idea what you were thinking, and you realized once again just how lucky you had been.   

Your ankle’s swelling had gone down considerably the next day, but it still hurt whenever you put even the slightest bit of pressure on it, so you spent most of the day in bed, reading books, drawing, or staring out the window at the gray sky. You weren’t without company, though, as Marie sat with you in your room often, changing the ice pack and helping you put away your newly bought clothes in your closet. She had been horrified when you came home last night in Neuvillette’s arms. “How awful, Madame!” she had lamented as she helped you get to your room and change into your nightgown. “Thank the Archons that Monsieur Neuvillette arrived on time!”  

Marie wasn’t the only visitor to your room. The Melusines, including those who hadn’t gone shopping with you, also came to see you throughout the day. You supposed that Neuvillette told them about you, for they all brought you cakes and other desserts as get-well presents (you also suspected that they also reported back to Neuvillette about your condition, for when you mentioned to one Melusine how you would like to drink some Fonta, your wish was granted by the next Melusine who visited. However, she also heartily recommended that you drink water from Snezhnaya instead, which held a coolness that was good against swelling, and if you wanted, you could ask Marie to fetch a bottle of it for you from Monsieur Neuvillette’s personal stash. She also added that you need not hesitate to ask, as he had more than one bottle. Perhaps all Melusines shared his specific tastes in water, but you didn’t quite believe that was the case).  

Rhemia and the other Melusines who had been with you yesterday had been the most distressed upon seeing you bedridden. “I’ll stick to you like glue from now on, Madame! No criminal will escape my sights!” Rhemia had declared, and her sisters nodded vigorously in agreement.  

“There really is no need for that,” you tried to decline her offer. Privately, you thought that there wasn’t much a Melusine could do against a man of Moreau’s size anyways. “The whole incident only happened because I was careless and in the wrong place at the wrong time. I’ll be much more careful next time, so I doubt it will happen again. Just because I’m Neuvillette’s wife, it doesn’t mean that I deserve special treatment or anything of the sort. And if he put you up to this, then—”  

Rhemia blinked at you in confusion. “But this has nothing to do with Monsieur Neuvillette. Not entirely, anyways.”  

“It doesn’t?” Now you were confused.  

“Nope! I’d do this for all the people important to me! Oh, but I guess you’re more than that, since you’re married to Monsieur Neuvillette! That would make you our mother, I suppose.”  

“Um…” There was the m-word again. You considered correcting Rhemia, but she continued, seemingly not noticing your discomfort.  

“You’re always so kind and patient with us, just like Monsieur Neuvillette. You greet us whenever you see us, and you always ask us about our days and listen to our troubles. Oh, and Madame, you’re such a good teacher too! I’ve gotten so much better at drawing humans thanks to your lessons!” Rhemia turned to her friends. “Am I right?”  

Her friends nodded enthusiastically. They began recounting all the times you’ve spent with them.   

“I’m glad to hear that you all think of me as your friend,” you said after they finished, a little embarrassed but also pleased. You hadn’t expected them to remember so much about you. But you felt a little guilty as well. At first, you decided to become friendly with the Melusines because everyone knew that Neuvillette treasured them greatly and you wanted to be in his good graces so that he wouldn’t have any reason to kick you out. They had always been the ones to come up to you first, especially in the first few weeks after your marriage, and while you didn’t consider yourself to be a particularly friendly and warm person, even you weren’t heartless enough to be cold to such a cheerful race of creatures.   

“It’s not just us! I’m sure all the Melusines in the Court of Fontaine feel the same way. You’re just as important to us as Monsieur Neuvillette.”  

“Oh…” Looking at their bright, earnest faces, you didn’t know what to say. Your eyes suddenly became misty. Before this marriage, you hadn’t given much mind to Melusines. They were just the public servants you would occasionally pass by on the street. But now that you were connected to them through Neuvillette, you were belatedly learning just how wonderful they were.  

“Thank you,” you said at last, patting each of them on the head. Your hand still stung a little from last night, but you ignored it. “It means a lot to me that you think so highly of me. Truly. Still, you don’t need to follow me around. If I ever need help, I promise that I will come straight to you. And…I hope that you will all come to the sunflower viewing party we’re holding here next month.”  

“Of course, Madame! We wouldn’t miss it for anything!” the Melusines chirped in unison.  

By evening, the deluge of visitors had finally ended. You sank into your pillows, feeling exhausted. You weren’t used to having so many people fuss over you. It was unfamiliar territory, one that you weren’t quite sure how to navigate.   

Still, as you gazed at the teetering pile of confectionary boxes covered in Melusine stickers on your bedside table and remembered all the get-well wishes you received, a rush of warmth flooded your heart. How did I get so lucky? You wondered. Perhaps even after I leave Neuvillette, we can still be friends…  

As you were lost in your thoughts, Marie came into your room again.   

“Oh, Madame, I completely forgot to give you this because of everything that happened yesterday. It appears to be from your family.”  

Marie handed you an envelope made of thick, creamy paper. You recognized the stationery as the kind used by your father for formal correspondences, and the address written in familiar, flowery cursive on the front was indeed that of your family’s house.  

“Ah, that would be from my sister,” you said, tearing the envelope open and taking out the contents. The envelope contained two cards made of similarly thick paper. They both had an elaborately drawn border of Lumidouce Bells and Rainbow Roses and had an invitation written in the center. This was new.  

You are cordially invited   

To a celebration  

Honoring  

Justine’s nineteenth birthday  

Semi-formal attire requested (Floral themed outfits are preferred)  

P.S. Sister, please tell me if Monsieur Neuvillette has any allergies or requires any accommodations!  

“Oh no…” you groaned, putting your palm over your face. “I still haven’t gotten her a present yet!”  

You had planned to get something for her yesterday after you finished shopping for yourself, but meeting up with Rhemia and the others caused it to completely slip your mind.  

While we’re on this topic, shouldn’t she have sent the invitations much earlier if she wanted people to RSVP? It’s just like her to do things last minute! And why is she acting like it’s already decided that Neuvillette’s coming?  

“Marie, could you please fetch me my pen and paper?” you asked the housekeeper. After you received them, you began to write a reply to tell Justine that while you were coming, Neuvillette definitely wasn’t. But just as you got to that last part, you paused. The idea of the Chief Justice attending a teenage girl’s birthday party all the way out in the countryside was absurd, of course. You tried to picture him sitting at your family’s worn dining table, singing “Happy Birthday” eating the butterscotch cake your housekeeper always made for birthdays, all the while fending off the barrage of questions from your family and friends. I can’t imagine it! It’s just too ridiculous.  

It would be better if he didn’t have too much contact with your family, in order to avoid them asking too many questions, and to make the eventual divorce go smoothly.  

He rarely even attended the far more glamorous functions of high society, so something like this would be out of the question. His answer would go without asking.   

Or would it?  

You didn’t really know why you were entertaining the idea. Perhaps being with Neuvillette these past few months had greatly inflated your sense of self-importance—but then again, you thought that the two of you had gotten close enough where asking him wouldn’t be so preposterous. You were friends, and wouldn’t it be ruder to not at least extend an invitation to a friend? Wasn’t the act of asking in itself greatly appreciated?   

And…there was a little part of you that would like to show him around your hometown. It was pretty much in the middle of nowhere, and all you could see for miles around were fields of wildflowers and mountains—a common sight in Fontaine—but there were a few spots that you had fond memories of. Since Neuvillette showed you his favorite places, it was only right to repay the favor, even if none of your favorite spots were as exciting as the giant willow tree or Merusea Village.  

Recent events, including the latest incident, had taught you the folly of making assumptions, even for seemingly inconsequential things like this. Just because you thought   

The worst thing he could say is no, you reasoned to yourself. And it’s not the end of the world if he does. Sure, Justine will be disappointed, but everyone knows how busy and reclusive Neuvillette is, so she’ll understand if he declines.  

As if on cue, you heard the front door open downstairs. Neuvillette had returned home. After a brief conversation with Marie, the sound of his heels briskly ascending the stairs and heading in the direction of your room until it stopped in front of your door. There was a soft knock.  

“Madame, may I come in?”  

“Yes,” you called out, and Neuvillette opened the door and stepped inside your room. He was about to close the door behind him, but then he looked at you. A thought seemed to cross his mind, and he left the door ajar.  

Um, why is he just standing there? You stared at him, confused when he didn’t take a seat right away. He simply stood there stiffly, his gaze a mixture of worry, uncertainty, and something else. For a second, you wondered if he was that caught off guard by your disheveled appearance that was a result of staying in bed all day. It took you a minute to realize that he was waiting for you to ask him to sit down. Really, this man… I thought we’re past such formalities.  

“You can pull up a chair,” you said, nodding towards the cushioned chairs in the center of the room. He complied, clasping his hands in his lap after settling in his seat and leaning towards you slightly. He stared at you intently, as if afraid that you would disappear before his eyes. You squirmed uncomfortably, suddenly very aware of the fact that you were wearing only your rumpled nightgown and that you were lying in bed. You surreptitiously pulled your covers up to your chest.   

Come to think of it, this is the first time I’ve ever had a man who isn’t my father in my room, you mused, though you were also aware that this wasn’t really the occasion to think about such things. Well, I guess it technically isn’t the first time, but this is very different.  

Thankfully, Neuvillette broke the silence and (once again) prevented your thoughts from going down a potentially thorny path.  

“How are you feeling, Madame? Regrettably, I was not able to take some time off to come and see you.”  

“There’s no need for that. Marie took very good care of me, and I got plenty of visitors today,” you indicated the tower of cake boxes on your bedside table.   

Neuvillette nodded, his face softening slightly. “We should postpone the meeting with Furina.”  

“No,” you said quickly, putting your hand on his. “The sooner we get this over with, the better. I’ll drag myself up the steps of the Palais if I have to.”  

Neuvillette looked like he wanted to argue, but he swallowed back whatever he was going to say. “There’s no need for that,” he said at last. “I would be happy to carry you into my office, if you should ask.”  

“Carry me into your office?” you repeated incredulously. Was he serious? But by now, you already knew the answer to that question.  

You leaned back against your pillow with a smile. You sometimes wondered if Neuvillette realized how unintentionally funny he could be. “Wouldn’t that give people the wrong idea?”  

“You do have a point. Then, I propose that we arrive at my office early in the morning, before the Palais employees come into work.”  

“How about instead of carrying me, I borrow your cane?”  

Neuvillette seemed to be pondering your words seriously. “But that would also run into the problem of rousing people’s suspicions. Someone might wonder why my cane is in your possession.”  

You turned your head away to smother your laugh.  

“It seems that the Melusines have made their visits,” Neuvillette said, looking at the tower of boxes on your bedside table.  

“Yes, they were all very sweet. Although, I’m not sure how they expect me to eat all these…” You liked dessert and all, but not to this extent. Perhaps you could bring some of them back home with you to share with your family and friends.   

“Clorinde also asked me to pass on her well wishes to you. She was very sorry to hear what happened.”  

“I see. Please thank her for me, and tell her not to blame herself for my foolishness.”  

“I will do that,” Neuvillette nodded, then was silent for a moment. His solemn gaze as he looked at you made it seem like you were diagnosed with some terminal illness rather than merely spraining your ankle badly and hitting your knee against the ground.   

“Neuvillette?” you called out his name in hopes of getting rid of that grave look in his eyes. It made your chest feel heavy.   

“Ah, by the way, I consulted with a friend of mine about your injury. She made this drink for you,” Neuvillette manifested a green, ridiculously adorable cup from out of nowhere. It reminded you of the bulky and colorful cups toddlers drank juice out of. “She says that it will help your body recover quicker.”  

“A friend of yours?” you repeated, your interest piqued. While Neuvillette would happily talk to you about the Melusines for hours on end and occasionally talk about his (human) acquaintances, you had never heard him call anyone his friend before.   

“Yes. She is the head nurse the Fortress of Meropide’s infirmary, and one of the kindest and most considerate people I know. I hope the two of you can meet one day.”  

“That’s high praise coming from you,” you said, making a mental note of this mysterious friend. “Why don’t we invite her to the sunflower viewing as well?”  

“What a wonderful idea. I shall do just that,” he said, then held out the cup to you. “Now, Madame, you should drink this.”  

“Alright,” you took a sip of the drink and nearly spat it out. “Bleakness” was the only way to describe the taste. It almost made you want to get out of bed and walk so that the pain could distract you from the torture of your tastebuds. For a heartbeat, you wondered if Neuvillette was trying to poison you. “A-Are you sure this is h-healthy?”  

“Of course,” Neuvillette said, looking baffled by your question. “I’ve drank it on numerous occasions, and I’ve always found myself quite refreshed and invigorated afterward. I asked Sigewinne to make it taste more palatable for you, as I’m aware that her concoctions are not for everyone. She truly hopes it makes you feel better.”  

This is palatable? You thought. Did I do something to this Sigewinne person? Whoever she was, she shared the same incomprehensible sense of taste as Neuvillette.  

Speaking of Neuvillette, he was looking at you expectantly. Oh Archons, is he expecting me to finish it in front of him? Just as you were trying to come up with an excuse to not drink it, those efforts were dashed by his next words. “Is it not to your liking?” he said quietly. You were vaguely aware that it had started raining outside.   

“I…um…” you didn’t know what to say or where to look. You suddenly had the impression that a large puppy was at your bedside, staring at you with sad eyes. Gah, he must be doing this on purpose! Either that, or he must really be fond of that friend of his. “Well, when it comes to medicine, it’s not really a matter of liking it or not liking it, right? A-And since you’ve gone to the trouble of asking your friend to make this for me, it would be rude of me to not drink it, right?” You sounded like you were trying to convince yourself.  

“If you do not like it, then you do not need to force yourself—”  

“No, no, I mean, I’ve taken plenty of bitter medicine when I was little, and I survived. This will be no different,” you brought the straw up to your mouth and held your breath. Let’s just get this over quickly, you thought, then emptied the cup in one go. Fortunately, there wasn’t much to drink. However, the lumpy texture was still a struggle to swallow. You felt as though you had just eaten concrete.   

“That was…certainly something I’ve never drank before,” you managed, flopping back onto your pillows to recover. You opened a box of lemon tarts and shoved one into your mouth to get rid of the taste. Honestly, you wanted to drink some Fonta instead, but decided that it might be a bit uncouth. Of course, some might say that it was unladylike to eat cake in bed in the first place, but you doubted those people ever had the misfortune of having to drink that so-called “healthy drink.” “Please thank your friend for me.”  

Neuvillette nodded, watching you as you ate a second, then a third tart. Lemon wasn’t your favorite flavor, but anything would do right now. You offered one to him, but he politely declined. His gaze dropped to the papers in your lap. “…Were you writing a letter to someone?” he asked.   

“Oh!” you had almost forgotten about that. “My sister Justine sent us invitations to her birthday party. It’s a bit short notice, but it’s in a few days.”  

“Ah, yes, I’ve heard you mention it before,” Neuvillette took a pause, as if he had only just taken in the entirety of your words. “Did you say ‘invitations’?”  

“Yes,” you nodded. Your hands suddenly felt sweaty. What were you so nervous about? “Since we’re, you know, husband and wife, it’s only natural that invitations would be sent to the both of us. Funny thing is, Justine thinks you’re already coming and has asked me if you require any accommodations, but, obviously, you haven’t given any answer as to whether or not you’ll be attending the party. I-I know that you usually don’t attend public functions, but birthday parties in our party don’t tend to be very extravagant affairs. It’s usually just a small gathering of close friends and relatives. We can even make everyone sign a contract of confidentiality, if you want. You don’t have to bring any gifts either. I think your presence will be a gift in itself for my sister, haha…”  

Oh no, I’m rambling again…why do I keep doing this? It’s a simple question! You toyed with the edge of your comforter, suddenly too nervous to look at his expression. Would there be a look of disgust there? Why would there be? Your brain argued back. You haven’t asked anything offensive!  

Finally, you dared to sneak a peek. He was staring at your face, as though scrutinizing it for answers to a difficult question.   

“You don’t have to go if you don’t want to,” you said, thinking that he must be trying to find a way to let you down gently.   

“…Do you want me to attend?” he said at last.   

You hadn’t expected that question. “What do you mean?” you frowned.  

“What I mean is…would it please you—would it make you happy if I attended your sister’s party?”  

The question threw you off guard. You didn’t know what he meant by it. What did it matter what you thought?  

“Well, it’s not my party, so my opinion doesn’t matter,” you said slowly. “My sister will certainly be overjoyed if you attended.”  

“But your opinion does matter quite a lot to me,” Neuvillette said. He was oddly insistent about this.  

Oh, I get it. He doesn’t want to come, but doesn’t want to offend, you thought.  

“If you want to come, then come. If you don’t, then don’t,” Realizing that your words might sound too harsh, you softened your tone. “It’s okay to say no. I won’t hold it against you. I’m sure my sister and everyone else will understand.”  

Neuvillette stared at you with an unreadable expression in his eyes. You could hear the rain pounding against your window, and you turned your head to it. The sky was a dark, leaden gray. It’s been raining pretty frequently these days, hasn’t it? You thought distantly.  

“Unfortunately, I have a trial to oversee on that day,” he said. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw him clench and unclench his fists. You wondered why he didn’t mention the trial earlier. “I do not think it would be wise for me to attend, in any case. It would be a needless distraction.”  

“Alright then. I’ll tell my sister you can’t attend,” you said lightly, then turned your attention to your unfinished letter. You picked up your pen and began to write. Focusing your mind on producing the words helped distract from the tumult of emotions within you—emotions that you didn’t know quite what to make of. Was it relief you felt, or disappointment? Relief for what? Disappointment about what? Were you seriously expecting him to say “yes”? That made no sense at all. In fact, it would have been stranger if he had agreed to attend.   

It was better to keep expectations low. That way, it wouldn’t feel so terrible when they were inevitably let down.   

In any case, it’s over and done with, you told yourself firmly, signing the letter with a flourish. Maybe too big of a flourish. I’ll post this first thing in the morning—that is, if I can walk by then.  

You glanced up to see Neuvillette still sitting there. He was drinking from his cup, but he was watching you over the rim. You had long gotten used to him studying you like you were some kind of strange specimen, but it was still awkward, especially in this silence. Your room, which had always felt needlessly spacious to you, suddenly felt very small.  

Just as you were debating whether or not to fake a sleepy yawn and ask him to leave, he spoke again.  

“You haven’t yet bought a birthday present for your sister, yes?”  

“Uh-huh?” you replied, wondering what he was getting at.   

“I won’t have any time tomorrow, but I do have an hour or two to spare after our meeting with Furina. We shall go pick out a present together then.”  

You gaped at him. “Together?”  

“Is there something wrong with that? It is customary for married couples to give presents as a pair, is it not? Since I cannot attend the party, allow me to make it up to your sister with a birthday present.”  

“…If you insist,” you said, since he seemed so adamant. Neuvillette was so hard to grasp sometimes. Sometimes, he was clear as a fresh water spring. Other times, like now, you had the sense that you were staring into the sea, unable to see all the way to its bottom. “She’d be happy about that.”  

“Then it is settled,” he said with a note of satisfaction in his voice, then leaned forward and cupped your cheek. It happened so quickly that you didn’t even have a chance to react. “W-Wha…” was all you could manage to stammer out. There was only a millimeter of space between your faces. Your heart sped up a little when his gaze moved to your lips. His thumb moved to the corner of your lip and brushed against it. It took you a moment to realize that he had flicked off a cake crumb.  

"That has been bothering me for a while,” he murmured, removing his hand from your cheek. Despite that, you could still feel the smooth silk of his glove and the press of his long fingers against your skin. “I will take my leave now. Please rest and get well soon, Madame.”  

“I-I will,” you nodded, suddenly feeling shy. You took a box of Conch Madeleines from your bedside table and handed them to him. “Please take this. It’ll take me a year to finish all these desserts anyways. There’s a little packet of whipped cream included, so if it’s too dry for you...”  

“Thank you,” he took the box from you, then stared into your eyes for a moment longer before turning on his heel and leaving your room. It was only when you heard his footsteps recede to the other side of the house that you realized that it was no longer raining.   

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[just-a-silly-little-whumper]

Bonsai

Masterpost | Read on Ao3

Thank you to @honeybees-125 for the idea for this piece!

Contains: Captivity, referenced mind control, referenced manipulation

~~~

Inside of his study, on a dark mahogany table carved with intricate reliefs and patterns, Lord Denholm kept a small bonsai tree.

The small notion of something natural almost felt out of place in the carefully kept castle. The tree itself could have been something wild, if not for its size, with how its trunk twisted smoothly up towards a sky it would never reach. The needles were the perfect shade of green and contrasted beautifully with the ashen grey-brown of the gnarled bark. There was even a touch of moss that grew at the base of the trunk, another touch of life and nature and the relationships between the world’s creatures.

Though it was folly to assume that such seemingly incidental was anything other than deliberate. For such a thing to exist in this state must have taken years, decades, centuries of careful planning and pruning and precise cultivation.

How it survived in the castle, Elze’ith knew not. There was no sunlight here, only the illumination of candles—no changing of the seasons, only the perennial chill of the castle air. Yet undeniably, inexplicably, the little cypress tree lived all the same. Through some magic or resilience or sheer serendipity, it had not withered into dust. It persisted, tenderly refined into a shape far smaller than it would have taken if left to its own devices, deprived of the very things essential for it to thrive.

Though he had no fondness for Lord Denholm’s study, Elze’ith would linger there sometimes just for the chance to regard the little tree. There was something achingly nostalgic about being in the presence something he once knew in abundance, of seeing the familiar and the magnificent reduced to something small and modest and knowable.If he was feeling particularly indulgent, he would imagine himself shrunken down to a size where he could sit underneath it, reading and resting and relaxing. Usually, though, he just took in the curve of every branch, the color of the needles, and tried to pretend that the freshness of the air was anything other than a trick of his imagination.

Sometimes, though, he couldn’t bear to look at it. The little cypress tree was just too pristine, too sculpted, too perfect. There was just something so bleak about its existence, a life so resilient and autonomous contorted into this unnatural shape. The prospect filled him with a profound dread that chilled his very core.

How long did it take Lord Denholm to cultivate this ideal specimen? How many times did he have to trim off stray branches, or wire the trunk, or prune excess needles? How long ago did he last pay his now-perfect project any real attention?

Perhaps it was a silly thing to fret about. It was, after all, just a tree, a source of solace as much as strain. As familiar and haunting and resonant as it was, there was nothing in its existence that should give Elze’ith cause for fear.

Not even when Lord Denholm’s unyielding hands felt like they were molding him into a shape he never should have taken. Not even when his thoughts vanished into smoke like excess growths trimmed off of a tree. Not even when he felt like he had been transplanted, uprooted from fertile ground and forced to try to survive in soil that would keep him alive but never truly flourishing.

Not even as the gnarled, thorny tangle of emotions in his chest grew too thick to extricate his heart from, and he began to wonder whether this complicated snare was some awful attempt at self-preservation, or whether it was another way of contorting everything he was into a simulacrum of himself.

No, the bonsai in Lord Denholm’s study was just a tree. There was no reason for Elze’ith to feel anything about it at all.

[redflagshipwriter]

Hi, it's Tim (just Tim) chapter 6

Masterpost

San Francisco was a breath of fresh air. It would have been better if Dick wasn’t shepherding him there like the world’s most anxious and chatty herding dog. Tim halfway wanted to make a break for it to see if Dick would bark at him.

He nobly resisted the urge. He actually hadn’t gotten in trouble for going no contact. Incredibly, Bruce hadn’t noticed that he had been with Superboy. He must really be wound up about the Red Hood.

Speaking of- “What’s the Red Hood done that makes B think I’m the target to be concerned about?” Tim asked.

Dick looked a little ill. He clearly didn’t want to answer. “Well, he’s been pretty clear,” he said apologetically. “Very clear. A lot of metaphors about breaking off your wings that B is taking pretty seriously. It’s like English class all over again,” he complained. Dick scrunched up his face and gestured wildly with his long elegant hands. “There was this like, poetic reference that I didn’t get, but it was about stomping on a bird and crushing all their bones under your boot. B had to look it up.” He cocked his head to the side at the end.

…This guy was referencing poets B didn't know offhand, and they were meant to think he was some big scary thug?

“...So he’s, uh, well-read, then,” Tim concluded, adding it to the very short list of things they knew about the Red Hood. “Loser.”

“We shouldn’t say that,” Dick demurred, which meant ‘lol yeah.”

Tim gave the older bird a judgemental look for even trying as Dick typed in pass codes for Titan Tower. That was their whole thing as Bats. They took information and made deductions. This particular deduction made him feel cockier. While the big bad Red Hood had been wasting time reading, Tim had been studying the blade and uh, making out with a really hot guy. Heh. He couldn't hold in the self satisfied smirk. Hood was a loser. He could use his time much better than by reading moldy old books.

Dick stayed long enough to get Tim settled, but he was clearly anxious to get back to Gotham.

Tim was torn. On the one hand, he did not like essentially being benched. But… Well, he wasn't benched outside of Gotham, Tim decided, wandering through the shared kitchen and rummaging around for a snack. He could go on any Titans mission that came up. He opened the fridge and squinted suspiciously at something in the vegetable crisper.

He had always assumed someone really liked potatoes. But knowing what he did now, he wondered if those were Kon’s groceries. Did the guy just eat raw fruit like some kind of lunatic?

…Maybe no one kept potatoes there after all. He had thought it was weird since he never really saw anyone cook. Tim picked the suspect up and sniffed at it. This ugly thing was a fruit?

Well. He was brave and he was bold. Tim bit through the skin. His teeth sank in with much less resistance than he expected: not a raw potato. It tasted okay. This was Kon’s favorite flavor? Tim had another bite and mulled it over. It was alright. It wasn’t exactly bacon and artichoke pizza or sour cherry candy, though.

Huh. He shut the fridge door with his hip and made his way to his room, planning to drop off his travel bag.

A window opened and slammed shut nearby. Tim detoured to see who it was. His heart beat hard against his chest when he rounded the corner.

“Superboy,” he said casually, as if he hadn't been making out with the guy a couple hours ago.

“Hey, Rob.” Kon breezed past, obviously lost in thought. He stopped midair and frowned. “Do you smell mango?”

Tim hid the half eaten fruit in his utility belt. “No. Maybe you're just hungry.”

Gaslight gatekeep girlbossing worked, as always. Kon let out a “huh,” cocked his head, and zipped away to the kitchen.

Ah, hell. Tim realized he was smiling like a dope to the empty hallway. He wiped the expression from his face and hoped that no one ever reviewed that section of security tape. How embarrassing.

He hid away in his room for a while, letting tactics and plans stew away in his mind. He was hyper aware of the fact that Kon was somewhere in the tower. Was anyone else? He didn't know. He should check.

While he was at it, he should try and hack into whatever B was hiding about the Red Hood on the bat computer. Tim spun idly in his desk chair as he thought it over. Bruce was being twitchy. He wanted Tim so far away from the situation that Tim knew in his gut it would eventually be his problem. That was how this shit always worked; the most dramatic thing possible would happen.

He emerged from his room to find Kon in some kind of argument with Cassie. Tim decided to stay way the fuck away from that. He steered to the living room. Raven looked up from her book, expression flatly unamused.

“Robin.” She acknowledged. Then she looked away.

She was in a great mood, then.

He checked through the logs: it was just the four of them. As Tim watched, Cassie's status dinged to display ‘out of the tower’.

Just the three of them, then. And Raven wasn't going to come seek anyone out.

Tim went Kon hunting. Kon was sprawled out in his room, tossing something up and down. It glittered where it caught the air.

“Superboy,” he said, leaning on the doorframe casually. Did it look casual? Did it look douchey? Tim stood up straight before Kon looked up.

“Hey, Rob,” Kon said. He flashed his toothiest grin at Tim. Fuck, he was pretty. “Did you want something?”

“Yeah, I wanted to talk. Can I come in?”

Kon sat up on his elbows. “Come right the hell in, my dude.” He cocked his head to the side and a curl fell over his face. “Everything alright?” A smile tugged one half of his mouth up mischievously. “Come sit on my lap and tell me all about it.”

The thing was that Kon said shit like that all the time. He said it to Tim, he said it to Cassie, he said it to any number of civilians. Tim had thought that Kon was just being kind of a bitch to him.

“Thanks,” he said easily, and sat with his knees on either side of Kon’s thighs.

Kon’s mouth fell open. Tim waited, but no sound came out.

“I was actually wondering- you say things like that to me a lot,” Tim continued, feeling very smug. Haha, Kon hadn't just been needling him. He'd been pulling pigtails. He wanted Tim, what a loser. “A guy starts to get the impression that you're interested. And…” he dragged his gaze pointedly down Kon’s perfect body. “I'm not disinterested,” he finished coyly.

“Robin.” Kon swallowed visibly. “I uh. I'm really flattered.”

Ah. Fuck. Tim had a very bad feeling.

“I'm kind of seeing someone at the moment.” Kon’s voice cracked. “If- if I hadn't been, I would be all over this. But I am. So.” His hands hovered uselessly a few inches from Tim’s sides.

Well then. Tim slid off Kon’s lap. He didn't let howling frustration show on his face. He was cock blocking himself. “I see,” he said simply. “No worries. I'll see you around.”

“Right.” Kon’s voice cracked again. He shoved his hands in his pockets. His eyes were wild.

Wow. Okay, so life isn't fair. It was good to know. Tim sulked his way back to his room. Well no, actually, he hated this information a lot. But it was useful for his prediction models. He should have known better than to think things would work out.

On the one hand, Kon was apparently loyal to his flavor of the week. Tim could choose to appreciate that, since he was flavor for early September.

Or he could be mad that he'd apparently chosen the wrong ID to flirt with Kon under. He paced an angry circuit in his room around the pile of things he was going to eventually reconstruct. Hell. Fuck. This sucked. Kon had a crush on Robin, the guy he actually knew. What a wasted opportunity!

He calmed down enough to think.

Of course that was when sirens went off. Tim booked it to the landing pad, pulling up the alert on his wrist computer on the way.

They had a mission. Okay. Tim compartmentalized away all the mortification. He could deal with it after they got back.

[gh0stkitti]

Paper Puppet!

Note: This takes place in an au, you my not understand everything. This is also on ao3!

I'm being lazy today and not putting the masterpost link. I'll come back to it.

May 24: Joe

Joe places a paper arm down next to the paper body.  He grabs glue and tape to stick the two parts together, glue was quite sticky, it liked to stick his fingers together when he used it And tape? It went everywhere. Not that Joe minded. He enjoyed creating things and the mess.

Puppets,

That’s what Joe is making. One of the ones that has a hole in it and was controlled by a hand, puppets that Joe was pretty sure were called Hand puppets. He has asks them many times, essentially on television. They were used to tell stories. “What are you doing?” A woman asks, the voice familiar to Joe’s ears.

“Making a puppet.” he answers, glancing up from his puppet. He cut through the paper with a pair of scissors, he folded the corners, glued the sides. And changed the shape.

Change. 

Change was a strange thing. It was quite different from what was normal. That was the definition of it right? It was hard to tell whether change was good or bad. It depended on lots of factors. Like when they escaped. That was changed, wasn't it?

Joe giggles as he folds the paper again, the paper is changing. It was changing into something new. 

New.

New can also be good or bad,  

Was the paper changing good or bad? Well Joe believes it was good, he was making something new, something different and it wasn’t hurting anyone. He folds and cuts the paper. Starting to form something that was shaped like a head, 

Even with a bit of pressure, just the curl of his fingers too hard on the paper and he would crush it, destroying his hard work. 

“Do you want to join Cleo?” Joe asks after a moment. The woman looks at the paper he was holding, studying it. For a moment Joe thought she didn’t want to join but then she nods. “Here,” Joe scoots over a bit, patting the floor gently. “Sit here,” 

Cleo obeys, sitting down next to him. “I don’t think I have ever made a puppet before.” She admits.

“That’s okay!” Joe says, putting some paper into her hand. “I’ll show you.”

[bunposting]

House Rabbit Society Bullshit - 5 Years Later

I considered just reblogging the OG post (check it out if you haven't seen it - the Masterpost of House Rabbit Society Bullshit) and adding this to the reblogs, but then it got long enough to be its own post. So! Without further ado...

Thank you to @/threefeline for mentioning this in the tags of the original post! Man, has it really been a whole entire 5 years?!

Well, I got curious and decided to check it out so that you, dear readers, don't have to! (or like. you could go do it yourself anyways. but why give them the clicks?)

Man. On the surface, has a lot changed. In fact, it changed so much that I almost fell into the trap of believing that maybe the organization itself has changed. But let's talk about what I found...

Time for one of my famous rambles! Oh boy! (there will be a TL;DR at the very end lmao)

The organization hasn't changed in any way that really matters. They are still essentially PETA for rabbits specifically, but the website has changed an awful lot (I barely recognized it). And, I have to admit, they made a teeny tiny bit of progress on at least one of their stances.

That tiny bit of progress pertains to diet. On their diet section, they are no longer strictly advocating for a diet of 80% hay, 10% veggies, 5% pellets, and 5% fruit/treats. Thank goodness!!!!! What they have isn't too much better but.... it's progress. Here's the update:

This is the first graphic on the diet page. There's. A lot to unpack here.

First is unlimited hay. That's standard of HRS, we've come to expect that from them. Offering unlimited hay to your rabbits won't kill them (though it might screw up their teeth in the long run, according to some studies), but if you're giving your rabbits a complete feed pellet, you'll probably just end up wasting hay because they won't end up eating a ton of it.

Next is "minimum 2 cups chopped vegetables." UM. THAT'S. DANGEROUSLY VAGUE MY GUYS. At least before they specified it should be leafy greens?????? If I was just the standard civilian looking to adopt a rabbit and I saw this, I might think this includes things like cucumbers, carrots, peppers, etc. Feeding a rabbit 2 cups of vegetables like those per 6 lbs of body weight per day would KILL a rabbit. Holy shit.

After that is 1/4 cup pellets. First of all - 1/4 cup is much more than what they used to advocate for, so I guess that's progress. But uh. Fun fact. The average serving size of a good quality complete feed pellet for a 6 lb rabbit when on a maintenance diet is... get this... just a bit over 1/4 cup (roughly 1/3 cup, but it also depends on breed/activity level/management style/etc.). Mind you - that's for a good quality complete feed pellet. Meaning technically the rabbit doesn't need to eat literally anything else. But HRS in this graphic is saying that a rabbit should be getting almost a full serving of pellets on top of 2 cups of unspecified vegetables on top of unlimited hay per day??????? Again, what a fantastic way to kill a rabbit. If the GI issues don't kill it, the obesity certainly will.

But hey, at least they are now specifying that treats should be given sparingly rather than making up a whole 5% of a rabbit's diet.

What an absolutely insane graphic to start this page with. It gets better, though.

After this graphic, they go into a bit more detail. Of course, they still believe hay helps to file down a rabbit's teeth better than pellets or chew blocks. Lol.

But then we get to the thing about the vegetables and here's where things get really interesting (and also extremely contradictory).

Quote: "Rabbits should get a minimum of three different types of leafy green vegetables daily to help them obtain the vitamins and nutrients they need." Ok, glad to see we're specifying leafy green vegetables now at least. That's cool I guess.

Quote immediately after that: "Eliminate any vegetables that cause your rabbit to have soft stool or diarrhea. Every rabbit is different, and you’ll need to find what foods work best for your rabbit, based on their health and sensitivity to certain foods." Sooooo what you're saying is that fresh vegetables can be risky to feed, considering diarrhea can be a death sentence for a rabbit. Interesting. But I'm supposed to be feeding 2 whole entire cups of this stuff per day, right????

Quote immediately after that: "Take this list along with you the next time you’re out shopping for vegetables to try feeding your rabbit" (list of safe vegetables for rabbits was after this.) Oh! Try feeding vegetables! So it's not a requirement! Thank goodness.

Next sentence: "Leafy vegetables should make up about 75% of the fresh portion of your rabbit’s diet. Non-leafy vegetables should make up no more than about 15% of your rabbit’s diet, or about 1 tablespoon per 2 pounds of body weight per day." 75% of the fresh portion of my rabbit's diet should be leafy greens... ok... so I'm guessing the fresh portion they're talking about is those 2 whole entire cups they mentioned before... which supposedly aren't super required I guess??? I have no idea. But now they're saying that 15% of my rabbit's diet - not 15% of the fresh portion, but 15% of my rabbit's entire diet - should be non-leafy vegetables. That's a lot. And also another really great way to kill your rabbits via GI problems.

The next sentence after that: "Due to the emergence of Rabbit Hemorrhagic Disease Virus Type-2 (RHDV2), House Rabbit Society recommends washing all vegetables for at least two minutes, in a bowl, changing the water several times." MY RABBIT CAN GET RVHD2 FROM EATING VEGETABLES?!?!!?!?!?!??!?!?!? WHY TF WOULD I FEED IT VEGETABLES THEN?!!?!?!??!?!?!?!?

Wow. That was a whole lot of contradictions. I'm all worn out. But let's see what they have to say about pellets. This should be good.

HRS' official current stance on pellets is (*drumroll*): "A good quality pellet should be relatively high in fiber (18% minimum fiber). While nursing mothers and young rabbits need to eat a lot of pellets, it should make up less of their diet as they grow older. Alfalfa-based pellets are fine for young rabbits, but timothy-based ones are preferred for adults."

YIPPEE WAHOOOOOO THEY ACKNOWLEDGE THAT PELLETS ARE GOOD ACTUALLY!!!!!!!!! (*the crowd goes wild*) There's that progress I was talking about!!!! I mean, 18% is low for a pellet feed but I guess if you're feeding mostly hay and giving less in terms of pellets that's fine for maintenance. But like. Why not just take the guesswork out and feed a higher fiber complete feed pellet to begin with. Anyways, nitpicking aside, I actually really like that they aren't vilifying pellets anymore, are acknowledging the importance of pellets for young rabbits and nursing does, and aren't saying that alfalfa-based pellets are going to kill your adult rabbits like they used to. Timothy-based pellets can absolutely be preferred for adult maintenance, that's totally fine, but preferred doesn't mean required. That's a huge win imho.

The next section goes on about treats and fresh fruits. They for some reason still say that fruit can be up to 10% of your rabbit's diet (yikes?????? that's actually even more than what they used to say??? at least they're not requiring it now I guess) but they do specify that it shouldn't be much more than a teaspoon per day, and they acknowledge that hay-based treats are healthier.

OK. Diet section aside, not much else has changed. They still say rabbits should have a ton of room and that wire is "dangerous for rabbits' feet" (lol), they still advocate for spaying and neutering, etc. etc. I will say I'm not seeing anything about needing to have rabbits in bonded pairs anymore, so that's a bit of progress too, I guess.

Initially, I was really impressed that it seemed like they weren't continuing to spout anti-breeder and anti-meat rabbit rhetoric anymore........ until I scrolled down on their "about" section. I'll say, they're hiding it better than they used to, because when you look at the about page at face value, it doesn't look like there's much else to see other than their "how we got here" statement. Then we get to their mission/value statements:

Mission statement, save and improve domesticated rabbit lives, eh. If I was an average person I'd be like yeah ok, typical rescue behavior. Then we get to the vision statement: Improving their legal status certainly raises alarm bells for me. As soon as we get legal status involved, that's when we start venturing out of animal welfare and moving more towards animal rights. But again, average citizen would still be like yeah ok. Cool I guess.

But further down, we get their actual list of values... waaaay past their whole board of directors that no one will want to read and will probably click away from the page immediately after seeing rather than reading further.

Again, all of this is hidden AFTER their board of directors list. Which is interesting.

Their policies, their beliefs, and what they are striving for has not changed whatsoever. A quick glance at their website might have you believing that it has, but no. This proves it has not.

Further down, we finally get to their position statements, which you can only find by clicking a hyperlink at the very bottom of this page - there is no easy way to get to it.

Their statement on meat rabbits is... exactly what you would expect: They are against raising rabbits for consumption by anyone for any reason.

Their statement on fur remains that they are 100% against fur, though they have amended their statement on angora wool to specify that, if someone is spinning wool gained from grooming their pet angora, that is perfectly ok to use in their opinion. That seems like it should be a no-brainer, but I saw someone keeping an angora 100% to HRS standards who posted something they made with the rabbit's wool get absolutely torn to shreds in the comments by HRS supporters for using the wool at all, saying that the wool should have been thrown out because the angora owner was "exploiting" their rabbit. So. Having this be specified hopefully at the very least prevents that from happening again. They are still against angora wool from literally any other circumstance, though. Because of course they are.

Then comes their statement on breeding. They specify multiple times on multiple occasions that they believe all rabbits should be spayed and neutered (again, if that happens, no rabbits would be able to breed, and we would no longer have domestic rabbits), but in their statement on breeding they simply say that they believe breeding rabbits should not happen whatsoever until the "overpopulation crisis" has been solved. I shouldn't have to say what a flawed stance on breeding that is. If there aren't rabbits being bred, if all rabbits are spayed and neutered, then there will be no rabbits left to breed once the "overpopulation crisis" is solved the way they want it to be solved (i.e. by all unhoused rabbits being adopted as pets). They can say all they want that their real goal is to make sure no more rabbits end up in shelters, abandoned outside, or (in their words) as "snake food" (poor snakes), but unless the ultimate end goal is to eliminate all domestic rabbits, the way they are advocating for solving this problem will always hurt more than it helps.

WHOOF. What a journey. Thanks for taking this journey with me, folks. Remember: a reputable breeder who gets their information from experience, from other reputable breeders, and from well-conducted scientific studies will always be one of the best places to learn about rabbits from, NOT a group that can't even create an agenda that won't ultimately harm, kill, or even eliminate domestic rabbits entirely.

TL;DR: No, House Rabbit Society really hasn't changed. They have updated some of their statements for the better, such as changing their stance on pellets from "pellets are trash" to pellets are actually a good feed option, but their positions on rabbits, rabbit meat, and rabbit breeding remain the same albeit even more hidden than they were before.

[gallifreyinstituteforlearning]

I already know why you view us humans as lesser, but why tolerate us and answer our questions when you easily have the technologies and resources to wipe our species off the map since there is no use for us?

Are you keeping us to look in on us as if we are a reality television show for your entertainment and to further educate your young on what not to do, why, what is ideal and what is not? Or is it a case of pity? (I rather despise that idea, of being pitied.) We are easily the least intelligent and advanced in comparison, and frankly, it has been a miracle that we even evolved at all.

To be kept in essentially a terrarium for others to view is quite interesting if it weren't for the constant idiocy occurring within our society. It's more embarrassing than anything.

It is for the best that you forbade marriage between us, even though it might hurt fragile human feelings and cause the worst cases of "Romeo and Juliet syndrome". I view it as more of a clinical reason, worrying about bad genetics and terrible defects that make the quality of life unbearable. But I am not saying one can or cannot marry, nor am I encouraging marriage between humans and Gallifreyans. (But they will be outcasted by both societies, as there are many purists among both.)

[This question is for educational purposes only, not to offend nor besmudge egos or protected societies under the Law of Rights and Protections under Section 8: C1 12963. I am one of the many human Representatives In Training (R.I.T.) and must further my education.]

[Note from the Gaia Society: "The views and opinions expressed by our newest intern does not reflect the views of the Institute. While humans in a terrarium may elicit thoughts of intrigue and curiosity, it is not adviseable to attempt. Views on interracial marriage are welcomed by the Institute, but many reject such a notion and have attempted to bar such radical, outrageous actions and expressions under law. We are also aware of the "Romeo and Juliet Syndrome", but it has not officially been studied in a clinical, scientific setting. The Institute further apologizes for the rather blunt brazenness of our intern and will be taking steps to further improve their communication skills."]

📢 Official Response from the Gallifreyan Institute for Learning (GIL)

No, humanity is not a reality show, a zoo exhibit, or a grand Time Lord experiment. Your species is objectively interesting, but not in a "let's make a sitcom" way. Every advanced species in the universe has been through this evolutionary stage, including Gallifrey, and frankly, you're not that special. You make mistakes because that's how species progress—trial, error, and occasionally setting yourselves on fire.

For all of humanity's faults, when you apply your minds and unite, you achieve remarkable things. You dream, create, and innovate—whether it's accidentally discovering a life-saving drug in a mouldy sandwich, composing symphonies, or inventing plastic instruments so you can pretend to be in a rock band in your living room.

As for human-Gallifreyan relationships? A logistical nightmare. Genetics, culture, and politics make it wildly impractical, and both societies would strongly disapprove. But humans love doing things simply because they're told not to, so we assume it'll keep happening.

In the end, you are not pitied—just occasionally observed with mild exasperation. Because despite your brief lifespans, you are individually determined to carve your own little piece of history into time. And that, if nothing else, is worth something.

Hope that helped! 😃

Any orange text is educated guesswork or theoretical. More content ... →📫Got a question? | 📚Complete list of Q+A and factoids →📢Announcements |🩻Biology |🗨️Language |🕰️Throwbacks |🤓Facts → Features: ⭐Guest Posts | 🍜Chomp Chomp with Myishu →🫀Gallifreyan Anatomy and Physiology Guide (pending) →⚕️Gallifreyan Emergency Medicine Guides →📝Source list (WIP) →📜Masterpost If you're finding your happy place in this part of the internet, feel free to buy a coffee to help keep our exhausted human conscious. She works full-time in medicine and is so very tired 😴

[mysticwolfshadows]

Taken - Zutara - Part 53

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They land just outside of a river town of Jang Hui. It was a small town, poor and slowly falling into ruin. There wasn't even a proper school, the island devoid of one in fact. They had stopped here, almost purely, to spy on the military factory that was on the river.

They spend time in the town, just to see how things are going. It's... not good.

The factory is pouring its waste directly into the river. The pollution is making people sick, mutating fish, and causing the foundation the floating village is on to start rotting. When they get back to their campsite outside of town, it was serious discussion time.

"It's awful," Suki said, looking over her shoulder at the sickly brown-green water. "That the Fire Nation would do this to their own people."

"It would have been the Fire Lady's job to make sure it didn't," Katara said, glancing at Zuko. "When Ozai became Fire Lord, it should have been Lady Ursa, but..."

Zuko turned his head, jaw tight. "My mother vanished the same night my grandfather died. So it left my father in charge of everything."

There was silence for a moment, before Toph breaks it. "Your dad sucks. And my dad sent mercenaries to drag me home in a metal box."

They all laughed, mostly because Toph and Zuko did, and Aang brought them back to topic.

"Can we do anything before we leave?" he asks. "To help the village?"

Zuko glanced at Sokka, who was returning the look.

"If we destroy the production, it could slow down the Fire Nation on the war front," Sokka suggested.

Zuko hummed. "If they're a factory here, they're making something important that's used here. They'd send someone to repair and redouble production to catch up on lost time."

"Could we move the village somehow? Or clean the river?"

"Both would take too long, and cleaning the river would only be temporary."

Suki leaned over, whispering to Katara. "What's happening right now?"

"Sokka's the idea guy," Katara whispered back. "Zuko makes sure the plans actually work."

"What if we got them to abandon the factory?" Sokka suggested. "Like, the towns got that river spirit? Pretend to be her and destroy the factory?"

Zuko winced. "It... might work. But it would depend on how important the parts they're making are. If the soldiers abandon the factory, and they really need whatever is being made is in high demand or essential, a new crew will just be dispatched to fill in. We don't have time to wait around and keep repeating the same performance until it becomes superstition."

"And wouldn't we risk the military retaliating on the town?" Suki threw in.

Zuko blinked, turning to look at her. "That too." Shaking his head, he turned back to study Aang. "There isn't much we can do right now. We just have to hope that the village can survive long enough for the war to be over and the factory be removed entirely."

"He's right," Sokka sighed. "We don't have time to be here longer than a day or two. We need to move on to Shu Jing. Their local outpost is larger, and could have more specific information. Plus, if we hear about more facilities we didn't know about, it'll take longer than we planned to get to the Black Cliffs. And of everyone in the invasion force, we can't be late."

The silence that followed was grave, heavy and weighty. It was a sad truth, that for the moment, there was nothing substantial to do for the people of Jang Hui at the moment.

"When the war is over," Katara said, voice thick with barely held anger and grief. "When it's over, I'm going to make sure this factory is removed first."

The rest of the group didn't argue with her, but Sokka and Suki did share a look. Wouldn't that be the Fire Lady's job?

Katara, Zuko, and Suki, as the stealth team, sneak into Jang Hui factory that night. The things the papers and reports they bring back are horrifying.

The factory was a metal processing plant, making parts for various war machines. Zuko was able to recognize some of them, pointing out the ones that he knew were for ships or tundra tanks. The rest, however, were parts that made Sokka's stomach roll.

"It's for air balloons," he said, going pale as he stared at the spread of papers showing the shapes and dimensions of the parts.

Katara frowned, leaning over her brothers shoulder. "Really? The air balloons are so small though. These look really big."

"That's because they are big," Sokka said, waving the papers. "If I'm guessing right, a single baloon with parts this size... It could carry a crew twice- no, three times as big as the Wani."

"It's for the comet," Zuko guesses. He points to one of the part schematics. "That looks like a platform. And the shape... They'd be fireing downward. See how the front is curved like that?"

"They literally plan to make it rain fire." Suki was staring in horror, one hand coming up to cover her mouth. "They'll destroy everything."

Aang was clutching his staff, hands shaking. "If the invasion... If we fail-"

"We can't let this distract us," Zuko interrupted. Everyone turned to him. "We already knew the comet would be used for another genocide. Now we just know how. So we keep moving, like we planned."

No one had the will to argue, as they quickly climbed onto Appa and left Jang Hui and the factory behind.

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[himikochan]

Conclave Round 4 Masterpost

Reminder, if you vote for my candidate, I WILL send you a cat picture: for this round, I will also kiss the kitty!! Her name is Miss Pumpernickel and she LOVES kisses!

4-1: Baggio v Soo-Jung: Either are acceptable choices!

4-2: Mẫn v Mangkhanekhoun: Mangkhanekhoun made reforms to the Laotian seminary studies so that seminarians had to learn more about their communities and provide aid. Imo, this continues the legacy Francis had prioritizing pastoral relationships between the church and believers.

4-3: Sanchez v Imeri: Imeri is my pick! In Guatemala, "[Imeri] has been involved in social justice issues, especially in the area of protecting the rights of indigenous people. He has fought against multinational corporations who come to Guatemala for its mineral wealth while destroying the countryside. [Imeri] has empowered the poor and marginalized and fostered civil courage to fight against the injustice they experience."

4-4: Tagle v Pizzaballa: So in addition to the things I've already said about Tagle, in a 2021 interview he talked about his attitudes towards the synodal process, "There is a walking that St. Joseph shows us. He walked dangerous paths with Mary and Jesus, guided by the direction of the angel of God. It is a walking that means protection, that means caring. We hope that during the synodal process, we may develop this capacity to love Jesus, to love the Church. And even if we have some observations that are not always positive, we must do so out of caring, out of loving, so that the name of Jesus will be proclaimed and preserved." I really appreciate a candidate that talks both of the church as a practical living institution but also connecting to the fundamental human stories contained within the gospel.

4-5: Rodrigues v Coccopalmerio: Coccopalmerio is the more acceptable option! In addition to sympathies towards homosexuals and those living in "irregular marital situations," he also believes in reforming the Curia!

The Vatican's former top advisor on canon law has made a public call to insert legal obligations for the care of creation into the Church's universal canon law - making it a legal duty for Catholics not only "not to harm" the environment, but to improve it.

4-6: Sau-yan v Nhơn: Sau-yan is my pick for his connection to Chicago and his interest in broader church communication!

“The important thing is to have more diverse voices, like you have the cardinal, from Mongolia, even though he's Italian, but he speaks for the Mongolian Church. I think the Church is getting richer with different voices.”

4-7: Heung-Sik v Zuppi: Zuppi is an easy pick! He has spoken vociferously against European nationalism, is amenable to priests being married! Zuppi is also for the adoption of "a new pastoral attitude that we must seek together with our L.G.B.T. brothers and sisters" to "help L.G.B.T. Catholics feel more at home in what is, after all, their church."

Zuppi has said, "St. Francis – in a world that was and is fraught with wolves and violent or fearful citizens, by towers and swords, by knights and brigands, by wars and enmity, polluted by so much hatred as to make it impossible to speak of peace – lays out a plan for a fraternal, unarmed world where there is room for everyone, beginning with the poorest and most fragile.”

4-8: Esquivel v Mendonça v Pengo: Mendonça is a strong theologian with an excellent academic career, took an additional vocation with the Franciscans because he admired them so much, and is widely considered papabile in this conclave!

In his preface to the [Sister Maria Teresa Forcades i Vila]’s 2013 book Feminist Theology in History, Mendonça said: "One of the convictions with which this book leaves us is that the future of Christianity greatly depends on the process of ‘clearing out’ of its past and present that we will be able to accomplish. [...] Teresa Forcades I Vila reminds us of the essential thing: that Jesus of Nazareth did not codify laws or lay down rules. Jesus simply lived. That is, he constructed an ethic of relationship; he embodied the poetry of his message in the visibility of his flesh; he displayed his own body as a premise.

[harrowharks-iliac-crest]

The River

Worldbuilding/Lore

<< Previous: Lyctorhood | Masterpost

-

So, okay, bear with me here. I think these people's brains are fundamentally different from ours. And I think their brains are spiritual matter, contained in a brain-shape and perhaps even anatomically so. There was talk of a temporal lobe, after all.

Mind you, memories don't just get stored in one place in the brain. The hippocampus is crucial for formation of memories and storing them short-term - for a few months, maybe. After that, I was told in my studies we don't quite know where they go - likely stored in different parts all over the brain, connected to associations.

One thing I do know, however, is that you can't physically see which parts of the brain relate to which memory. Knowing this from necromantic ability should be a skill even Mercymorn would struggle with. Harrow, a bone magician, knows she is not the best flesh magician, so she enlists Ianthe's help for her lobotomy. Ianthe, allegedly the best necromancer in her generation, is actually able to do an alright job, except for one part where Harrow does some herself. Have they found ways to look at memories through the brain? By all current available science, I would rate that fairly impossible. Either science has progressed wildly in this (possible, given the whole ass myriad and then some), or these brains are not the same.

I actually think brains in this are made from much the same matter that The River is. The River is clearly not of Alecto or John's invention. It was discovered somehow, and when they resurrected everyone, they basically found the revenants for the bodies, and just stuck them back in, literally; pockets - or bubbles - of River, containing the revenant exactly, replacing the goopy mess of dead brain in the body.

Now your brains are goopy messes of river, made to look like what you expect the brain to look like. Your perceptions, expectations and rules are important in the River - it makes sense that River/Revenant-brains would still be brain-shaped. It means the brain is more fluid than that, though; in the Lyctor's cases, one soul - one brain - "takes over".

(Doesn't really explain why Lyctors like God, Augustine and Mercymorn consistently have their cavalier's eyes - other than maybe it was just that that's what they were expecting.)

Ok, so I kinda think brains are parts of The River. Coherent as revenants, living in bodies. This would have been the case for the first people who were resurrected a myriad ago - so when they create babies, the baby's brain is also River water, for want of a better term? Therefore everyone's is? And Death, in this post-resurrection world, is just returning to the River proper?

It's a working theory.

The River is a physical place, and also kind of like sub-space. You can enter it, you can form pockets of meaning in there, you can hunt things in there and make wards. You can use it to travel quickly to destinations many lightyears away. It is a physical place, but also a spiritual one. It is, essentially, the brain matter of billions, jumbled together, increasing in entropy with depth, all the way down to the stoma, where you can enter full entropy and be reduced to particles, as I understand.

Did you know that some scientists use entropy to describe brain processes? Entropy increases in the brain as it responds to stimuli. The concept of entropy is necessary for explaining what goes on in the brain, an organ of trillions+ of possible configurations, changing moment by moment. And what happens physically in the brain is perceived by us through a range of associations and thoughts and feelings, which all look and feel very different to the electric charges zipping along nerve axons and synapses releasing chemicals to trigger a reaction in the next nerve along. Which is (a gross oversimplification of) what actually physically happens inside our brains, millionfold, every millisecond.

Hey wait a second though. The Central Nervous System also includes the spinal cord. Is this included in the RiverBrain package deal? What about peripheral nerves? Right, I'm gonna stop this here, it's already one hell of a rabbit hole.

So if I'm right, then brains are made of River, and River is made of Brains. Sub-space, physically traversible brains. If planets, if stars have a soul, the whole Universe has a soul. The River could a manifestation of the Universe's soul, its collective Brain, and it encompasses all once (and future?) living things. It's not in our plane of existence, but can be accessed physically and mentally.

The River might be the source of necromantic ability, and I think either John or Alecto figured out how to access it. I Just Don't Think You're Supposed To.

Ok, let's get into Characters next. Blorboposting incoming.

>> Next: Gideon Nav

[cyberstudious]

Tips for Studying Cybersecurity

I created this post for the Studyblr Masterpost Jam, check out the tag for more cool masterposts from folks in the studyblr community!

Getting started in cybersecurity involves learning a lot of concepts and techniques from all across tech, from networking to operating systems. After that, there's a lot of security-specific tools and knowledge to absorb as well. This post focuses on some of the big things that helped me as I've studied for certifications over the past few years.

Memorizing Acronyms

There are a ton of acronyms used in cybersecurity - if you're studying for the Security+ certification, there are about 300 acronyms that you're expected to understand, and a lot get thrown around while you're on the job. It can sound overwhelming, but my two main strategies are 1) make and use flashcards (I use Anki) and 2) take the time to learn what the thing behind the acronym actually is. The ones that confused me most were always the acronyms for a protocol or something where I didn't actually know what the protocol did.

Memorizing Tool Usage & Command Line Options

How do you specify the target architecture in msfvenom? Which nmap option starts a TCP connect scan? If you're on the tech side of security and not governance, or if you're just studying for certifications, a lot of them will ask you to use command line tools and therefore memorize some of the most common options. The best way to learn these is to just practice using the tool! Anki can be helpful if there's a lot that you have to memorize to pass an exam, but practicing with the tool is a more interesting and memorable experience.

Also, it's not the end of the world if you can't remember everything - manpages exist for a reason! Memorizing common flags and options just lets you work faster, and eventually you'll memorize the most important ones just by using the tool.

Memorizing Common Protocols & Port Numbers

More foundational knowledge here - this is important for entry-level certifications and just being able to interpret things on the job. This is just memorization again, so 1) create a flashcard deck and 2) make sure you know what the protocol actually does. It's harder to remember that IMAP over TLS is on port 993 if you don't know what IMAP or TLS is - build up those connections in your brain!

Understanding Complex Protocols, Processes, and Attacks

When you're trying to learn about network protocols (TCP, HTTPS, etc.), encryption algorithms (Diffie-Hellman, etc.), or the process of a specific attack, sketch a diagram! Draw it out and get as specific as you need. Keep trying until you can break the process down into tiny steps and explain it from memory.

When studying attack chains, you can make use of Mitre ATT&CK to note the different techniques used at different stages. Professional write-ups do this too, so it's a great way to practice.

Organizing your Notes

If you're studying for a GIAC certification, the tried-and-true strategy for passing the exam is to organize your notes and make an index - essentially a giant table of contents for all of the course material that you can search through very easily. GIAC exams are open-note, but there's an enormous amount of material in each course and you don't have time during the exam to search through the book for every question.

Lesley Carhart has a great write-up on their process that's worth a read - this is one of the resources that SANS.edu advisors point students to!

If you're studying for an exam that isn't open-note, making an index can still be helpful, especially if you keep your notes around for later reference. It's also a good way to review and find topics that you need to put a bit more time into.

The tl;dr here is:

Make flashcards for anything that you need to memorize. Use a spaced repetition tool like Anki that will let you study in short bursts over a long period of time, because cramming won't help in the long run.

Get your hands dirty! Practice the labs or sample problems, play with the tools, and experiment.

Keep good notes. It's very easy to feel a sense of information overload in cybersecurity, so having a system that lets you store information outside of your brain but still access it quickly is key.

If you have any questions about how I handle a specific topic or studied something, feel free to send me an ask!

[edupunkn00b]

I Love You Heart and Mind, Ch. 2: Moving Back

Prev - I Love You Heart and Mind - Next - Masterpost - [ AO3 ]

Logan develops new ways to… divert his emotional reactions and avoid repeated instances of his physical transformations.

"E equals MC scared!" Logan shouted, pushing his growing—and his growing—fear at the entire situation into a virtual box in his chest. Like Sherlock's mind palace, he'd found it a useful mental mechanism in, well, situations such as these. Sealed tight with a heavy chain wrapped around it, the inner box heaved and sizzled, searing hot when he thought too much about it or tried to examine it, but…

He took a careful breath. Only an infinitesimal tightening around his collar and the room appeared to be essentially the same size it had been when they'd first arrived.

It worked!

Continuing his explanation of their presence and the job ahead, Logan avoided Patton's eyes. Amplified under the influence of Anxiety's room, tender Patton was caught in the figurative grip of his arachnophobia, the fear overpowering his own thinking until an artistic rendering of the dreaded arthropods threatened to push him closer to the actual spiders hiding in the cobwebs littering the rest of the space.

Logan eyed the unusually large Argiope aurantia working to repair the damage his own sudden appearance next to the banister had caused. He ignored Patton's request to switch positions and wordlessly willed Roman and Thomas to do the same. Patton was safer in his current position, even if his fear did not permit him to recognize it.

But even this intellectual understanding was insufficient to fight the draw of his plaintive requests, so Logan struggled to force his attention away from the Heart's shuddering fear. They had a task ahead and, once they'd convinced Anxiety of his enduring importance, they would all be able to leave.

~

Over the following months, Logan encountered additional opportunities to refine this new technique for emotional control. And, to varying degrees, his fellow Sides aided in this effort. Roman was rarely a genuine obstacle, his own emotional outbursts almost comically simple to reframe as annoyances. Expressions of irritation at the Princely Side, even when not all could honestly be characterized as provoked, provided Logan a useful outlet, a metaphorical steam valve of sorts.

Virgil’s typical dry sarcasm was similarly easy to allow to slip by unprocessed. He rarely triggered a true emotional reaction and the anxious Side’s need for calm, steady handling engendered itself to calm, steady responses.

The Others were such infrequent features in Logan’s days that their presence consumed him with curiosity, effortlessly pushing aside all other feelings.

And then there was Patton.

As Thomas’ Heart, Patton’s demeanor was a study in the vagaries of human emotional expression. Also, as Thomas’ Heart, Patton’s moods were remarkably transferrable to the other Sides, none more, it seemed than to him, Thomas’ Mind. Patton’s joy sparked a palpable warmth in the center of Logan’s chest, his laughter almost literally musical to his ears. It was challenging to resist an incomprehensible urge to join in, even when he did not know or understand the source of Patton’s mirth.

Equally, Patton’s sadness cut him deep in his core, sending a raw ache through his nerves that was difficult to ignore.

There appeared to be a visual element to the phenomenon. His empathetic reactions to Patton’s emotions were unlike other happenings in the Mindscape of which Logan was aware even when he was not witness to them. Roman’s—and Remus’—creative efforts registered in his mind regardless of where either twin was working. Virgil’s anxious spirals reached him from every spot in the Mindscape. It appeared, however, that Logan needed to visually—or auditorially—perceive Patton’s emotional expressions in order to feel them for himself.

Logan had also noted the other Sides did not appear to experience or otherwise be aware of the phenomenon, a finding he tucked away for eventual analysis. To be fully honest, Logan was in no rush to uncover the cause of the other Sides’ obliviousness. Their inattention had served him well in his attempts to conceal his more physical responses to his own overpowering emotions.

It seemed, in this instance at least, that the less the other Sides knew, the better.

“Good morning, Patton.”

For not the first time that week, Logan stepped into the kitchen in search of his morning coffee and discovered Patton staring out the window, lacidaisically stirring something sticky and sweet-smelling in a big metal bowl. On most previous mornings, Patton would greet him with a cheery smile and a boisterous salutation before he’d even gotten both feet on the linoleum tiled floor. Lately, though, Patton appeared so lost in thought it took spoken words or even a soft touch to break him of his reverie.

With any other Side, Logan would hesitate to initiate physical contact without express permission, however Patton’s frequent and spontaneous group hugs left Logan feeling slightly more comfortable reaching for him on his own accord. “Good morning, Patton,” he said again, lightly letting his hand rest on Patton’s shoulder.

He started, turning to Logan with a wide smile. Then Patton looked down at the bowl instead of meeting his eyes. “Oh, hiya, Logan! I didn’t hear you come in!” Still grinning, he lifted the bowl of a batter that appeared more chocolate chip than any other ingredient. “I was going to sneak a little batch of cookies into the oven before breakfast,” he said before giving the bowl one more stir. “Caught me bowl-handed!” he laughed, loudly.

If Patton was laughing, why did Logan’s eyes burn?

Logan dropped his hand before crossing his arms as though that might hold back the tightening he felt around his waist and throat. “I would recommend starting with a more balanced approach to the morning meal. Though… the batter does smell rather entic—”

“I’ve got it!” Roman cried, leaping into the kitchen and tearing the bowl from of Patton’s hands.

Patton blinked up at Roman, confusion pulling his expression down into a little frown.

Until the brainstorm hit them all.

A variety of stringed instruments played in the background, a rousing harmony crescendoing as a vision of Thomas and his last boyfriend appeared before them. Dressed in Roman’s tunic knelt down on one knee before him. Arm outstretched, he offered his ex a giant golden key tied with a red bow. “Mi amore! You’ve always held the key to my heart!” he cried, his other hand pressed to his chest. Suddenly, the music swelled and he broke into song. “Let’s go back to the way things used to be! Can’t you see we were always meant to be?”

“Whatcha doin’ there, Kiddo?” Patton asked, smile stretched so wide Logan could see his molars.

Logan had thought only Remus could do that.

The illusion fell away and Roman sat cross-legged on the floor, the key cradled in his lap. “I know if I can come up with a good enough idea, I can find a way for Thomas to win back his heart.”

“Really, Roman… Is this wise?” Logan frowned, fists tight at his sides. “That breakup was—”

“Do you really think it could work?” Barely louder than a whisper, Patton’s voice struck him, shattering Logan's remaining arguments. His face held such hope, smile wavering now, but soft and open. Still reeling from Roman’s brainstorm, Logan couldn’t shake the image of a blossom opening to the sun.

Yet mark'd I where the bolt of Cupid fell: It fell upon a little western flower, Before milk-white, now purple with love's wound, And maidens call it love-in-idleness.

Logan shook his head again as Roman smiled, taking Patton’s hand. “Come, Padre… Let’s go to the Imagination. I have so many more ideas.”

“Okay,” Patton nodded, still smiling. “If you’re sure.”

Logan closed his eyes and screamed, lips and throat closed. Silent. Neither noticed how tight his tie had gotten.

“I do miss him," Patton said, voice wistful. "Thomas misses him.”

“I know, Padre,” Roman said, stepping through a fresh portal to the Imagination. “We all do.”

The dull ache in Logan’s chest did not leave with them when the portal closed. He poured himself a cup of coffee and returned to his room, the muted echoes of Roman’s plans reverberating through the Mindscape.