#//that got a bit long my bad and I was meant to queue it but I just like it so much

[markscherz]

Can I ask how you feel about your Tumblr fame?

I get the impression you just made this account for normal casual funsies reasons, but it kinda blew up by happenstance. If that's right, I'm curious if now you feel like it's kind of a more serious thing, where you have an opportunity to sorta act as a science communicator with a reach you otherwise might not?

Or maybe something else? You gonna see if you can somehow leverage your Tumblr fame to get research funding? Deputize us to harass polluters and developers destroying habitats? Crowdsource name ideas for new species?

It's a bit bizarre, in that it has very little real-world-ness to it. I showed my mother the ongoing tumblr celebrity poll, and she was like 'how many people could possibly be interested in frogs?', to which I replied 'well as of today about 46,000 and counting'.

I have always had an unhealthy relationship with fame. I spent most of my teen and young adult life fawning after it, as is I suppose very often the case.

More after the cut…

I always really wanted to be famous, but I was never really interested in changing who I was or what I represented in that pursuit. That is to say, I wanted to be known for what I was already doing, or for things that were already interesting for me, rather than things that might have much higher chances of success but require more effort or be less in line with the things that I am interested in.

I had my first brush with virality in 2012, when a poem I wrote went a little viral (largely thanks to StumbleUpon). I remember the rush of seeing how much attention it was getting, and staying up late to keep refreshing the page as the visitor numbers went up and up and up.

But not long after that, I had some closer encounters with fame and people becoming famous. That was extremely eye-opening. I witnessed first hand how strongly that can affect someone's life, for good and for bad. That experience also made me realise, quite jarringly, that famous people are still just people; that celebrity is something extrinsic to them; that they also wipe their own butts (if they are able); and that in many cases, it is a substantial inconvenience if not downright pain in the ass for them. I think this is why we see so many of the big celebrities having mental health crises or trying to live as much of their lives out of the public eye as possible.

That experience pretty much stifled my desire to achieve fame, and really changed my relationship with it. I should add that I could say much more on this topic, but nothing so coherent or insightful as John and Hank Green, who have given me so much clarity on this topic over the years through their thoughtful commentary on youtube and their podcasts.

Anyway, in spite of the fact that fame itself doesn't really appeal to me anymore, I do still have a problem wherein I quickly became addicted to the microdosing of euphoria associated with every reblog and like and follow. So I put huge efforts into social media in order to try to gain traction in the space that I felt I could really compete in—Very Niche SciComm™—and build up a following.

Tumblr was the first platform where I felt that really succeed; I managed to fight my way to a few thousand followers with a thick queue of regular posts about herpetology and other science. At that time, there was a great community building up in the rudimentary private messaging system—I am still friends with several other tumblr bloggers from that era (none of whom I have ever met in person). From that early time (2013), I think my most successful post was probably this one about germination of 32,000 year old seeds—a post that, as of today, has 836 notes, but at the time felt huge and exhilarating.

As I went through gradschool, I got more and more active on twitter, and less and less active on tumblr (by the time I wound down, I had about 8,000 followers on tumblr). This was partly because of the pornbot takeover on tumblr, which meant I basically could not go on the platform in public or at work, but also because the audience and interactions are just fundamentally different. Twitter had a different kind of vibe and energy than tumblr, and there were real SciComm experts there, who were doing it just completely differently. More importantly, I became more focussed on doing outreach aimed at colleagues, rather than non-experts.

Then, in 2017, I hit headlines for the first time. The description of Geckolepis megalepis made it big on social and traditional media, and I had my first experience with real media attention. I had a flurry of late-night phone-calls with journalists in the US. This was a different animal altogether than the few viral posts I had had until that point. It was extremely stressful, but exhilarating. Then in 2018, our chameleon fluorescence story made similar headlines, and in 2019 the Mini frogs, and in 2021 with gecko fluorescence and the smallest chameleon.

Seeing my name on the BBC News website and in the New York Times and National Geographic—those things have been the most surreal moments of near-fame I have experienced so far. The number of followers on social media is quite difficult to conceptualise, but seeing your own name in a media outlet that you consume regularly, or have grown up with, is more palpable.

In any case, I continued to run with twitter as my main platform for years, because I found the interaction with colleagues and other academics highly stimulating. In 2021, I even posted a twitter thread about a different species of frog from Madagascar every day for the full year. All this work was ultimately greeted with mediocre success; I just crested over 10,000 followers a few months before the Musth takeover. But then the platform became basically unusable. And in the fallout, I came back to tumblr, where, just by chance, I happened to find a post about the Mini frogs and reply to it and it went properly viral and now here we are. In the space of a year, I went from having 8000 followers to having >46,000.

How do I feel about that? It's bonkers. I think it is great that so many people are interested in hearing the Good News about frogs and other creatures. But I also feel like I am not really on the same playing field as most of the others in that poll mentioned above, in that I do not have any of the celebrity that several others have. And I know for a fact that there are fanblogs with far, far larger followings than I have. But perhaps that is the great thing about tumblr; that the playing field is somehow levelled…

What's the point of this ramble? Well, first I guess it is to outline that I have given fame a lot of thought over the years, and I have a long-standing and complicated relationship with it, and take it quite seriously. Second, to illustrate that I have been working on as a science communicator or person in outreach for many years—it has kind of been my social media brand since I started gradschool in 2013. And third, to kind of outline how we got here, because I often feel like you have to know where an arrow has come from in order to figure out which direction it will continue to fly.

You asked if I would somehow try to leverage my tumblr fame to get research funding—I already do that. In fact, my social media activity had a signfiicant role in landing me my current job, and will continue to help me achieve tenure. Outreach is an important part of my job, and funders like it too.

I would love to have the community-building power and tenacity of the brothers Green; Nerdfighteria has achieved some incredible things over the years, and the power of that community is now being seen at an unprecedented scale in their battle for equitable access for tuberculosis diagnosis and treatment. But I do not have that in me; this platform is the wrong one for community activation, and my community is still too small for that. Moreover, it is not organised or structured, in the way that I think effective deputisation would require.

As for the crowdsourcing of name ideas, that is currently off the table. I like to try to name things on my own or with my colleauges; it is a very good part of the process. And I have yet to hear a suggestion for a Mini species epithet that I had not already come up with myself, so I am not convinced that this would really augment the experience.

So for now, I hope that the main way I use the platform, and the power that comes with a few thousand followers, will be to spread the Good News about frogs and other wonderful animals, and the other kinds of science happening around us (and occasional other off-topic content). I hope that you are encouraged to explore the world around you, and to do your own reading to find out more about the subjects that interest you. And also I will continue to try to make meme-worthy content, because it does nice, if addictive, things in my brain when I get the clicks.

Thanks for asking, anon, and sorry for the Wall of Text.

[celtrist]

Hazbin & Helluva Vs. Aromanticism

(Aka: I have a problem with the Spindlehorse team about this, not shippers.)

(Also this is mainly about Alastor but can go for Octavia and Mammon too.)

Alright, so I've cleaned up this uh... rant, to make things a little more clear hopefully. But to summarize here, this is about the team's lack of commitment when every other character is allowed full confirmation of their orientations but these (potentially) aromantic characters aren't.

While I have no beef with shippers (I think you can ship whoever with whoever you want, I ship Alastor too on occasion), there is some conversation about how the fandom might be a bit of a reason WHY they "can't" be confirmed as aro. But again, my main problem is more with the showrunners than the fandom at this point about this.

I'll also be getting into why it's "important" and the double standards against characters being aromantic.

This is not an attack, ship however way you wish (again, I do it myself). My intent isn't really to stop the shipping, that would be ridiculous. But more so to give my thoughts on why it's BS characters like Alastor can't be confirmed as aromantic when other characters are allowed confirmed orientations.

I will start off by saying I don't mind the shipping of Alastor. While it's NOBODY'S business but mine, I suppose it's important to clarify that I'm someone who does currently identify as aroace. I might be wrong but who cares, it's how I think of myself now at least to some degree (I do after all still have fictional crushes. Real-life romance is not an interest for me though, don't like 'em).

I'm gonna get what I don't think people talk about enough on both sides of being for and against shipping Alastor, and then I'll talk about the shippers as they're (I realized) not my main issue at this point.

A little history: So Alastor has been long time confirmed as an ace character. He hasn't been confirmed as being sex-repulsed or anything, but I can personally say I don't mind either flavor of him being repulsed or favorable (though I imagine the series will lean towards the former to counter everyone else's sex-favorable attitude and for jokes). This statement was initially taken VERY poorly by fans who, at the time, were shipping radiodust and radiobelle/charlastor, one more than the other. Care to take a guess which? The answer will not surprise you.

But then people realized "Oh, asexual doesn't mean he COULDN'T get with someone" and people even went further to "Being asexual doesn't mean he CAN'T have sex", both very true statements. So shipping was back on the menus boys! And his asexual was certainly blurred a bit (to the point where it wasn't even him being sex-favorable asexual as much as just not asexual, something that still happens but certainly not as bad). But overall, people were taking his canonicity as asexual with as much grace as a duck.

So here's where MY problem comes in. While I have some gripes with shippers, I had an epiphany that "Oh. It's not really the shippers I have a problem with. It's the people WRITING THE DAMN CHARACTER". Which, might I just say, is so much worst.

The shippers, while they got annoying at some points and certainly can be still, are just having fun. Because shipping just happens to be the way most people like to interact with characters in the media they're into. Hell, I am no different. I just have the misfortune of only really getting into rarepairs most of the time (curse you my bizarre tastes). I've even shipped with Alastor, I like AngelicSmile/radiojoy quite a bit.

Back on track. Now, what do I mean by my main problem being with the writers more than the fans with this? Well, queue this darling of a clip about the topic (this is the only clip I've found of the live stream, feel free to watch the whole video but just wanted the clip here).

This. Single. Clip. Infuriates me.

Vivzi, while I'm sure not meant to, pretty much implied "Alastor being aromantic and 'non-shippable' would ruin people's fun". I'm sure she meant it as a way to keep others from policing shippers (which didn't work, it still happens), it really just reads as "a character being aromantic is not a fun character". Like there's something wrong with being aro.

Not to mention some other things that would contradict this statement:

Viv in the past said "fans are allowed to ship outside character orientations", so... what makes that so different here with confirming Alastor as aromantic?

It being confirmed is not relevant to the plot. Great, so is every other orientation not relevant. Why can't Alastor be confirmed as aromantic but Vaggie can be confirmed as a lesbian or Vox bi? What does Vox being bisexual have to do with the plot? Neither is relevant to the plot, but one can be confirmed but not the other?

People were gonna ship him ANYWAY. Like, there's really no point in pretending. They were going to anyway because of the first point I already mentioned, but also people ship against canon orientations ALL THE TIME. It's just gonna happen and there's nothing wrong with that in of itself.

You've kind of just implied it's canon by not wanting to say specifically him being aromantic is canon or not. If Viv had just said "I don't wanna confirm his romantic orientation because...", then this statement would be fine and fair I suppose. But she had to call out him being aromantic specifically. And I mean, he COULD be something else (he was slated to be a couple with Mimzy originally after all), but the context doesn't seem like that would be the case. Plus, would she really feel the need to hold back from saying "Alastor is homoromantic" or biromantic or heteroroman- actually yes for that last one probably.

So riddle me this, with these points, why the FUCK would it be so wrong to confirm Alastor as a canonically aromantic icon and help get MORE REP for this very very very VERY underrepresented orientation? And I've thought of a few reasons to this, one of which being to avoid the same backlash that they got for Alastor being ace. Which, DID HAPPEN WHEN THE VOICE ACTOR AND SOMEONE ELSE ON THE SHOW CONFIRMED ALASTOR AS AROMANTIC BUT BACKTRACKED ON THE STATEMENT.

To which, fine. THAT'S on the fans (especially as no one would've complained if he was confirmed as homoromantic, which is a double standard VERY PRESENT in this fandom, but also many others quite honestly). But I can see another reason is to avoid others policing shippers about it.

Which, if that's the case, shit luck it's happening anyway.

To cower away from this orientation because of fans being upset says a lot, both about the fans and the creators. There is a whisper of "Alastor isn't allowed to be aromantic". That "being aro isn't allowed or appreciated".

We live in a world that at this point has a lot more lgbtq+ characters than ever before. At this point, there's just a lot of gay/lesbian and bi characters, and that's wonderful. But, there's barely a handful of aroace characters. And when they are, nobody wants to pay attention to that part of the character. So why can't the deer man be aromantic? I would imagine it would honestly make things a little better ship wise because ship wars wouldn't occur seeing as, well, there's no ship to be fought for. None of them could be canon.

So you might see where I'm leading into this, but I can only really think of one real reason Alastor being aromantic just "can't be confirmed" where as everyone else's orientations can be.

His popularity. Like, that's weird but walk with me here. Alastor is the most popular character in the fandom. There's honestly no denying it, he just is. And what do people do with the most popular character?

THEY SHIP THEM OFF IN A LOVEBOAT.

But wait, if he's aromantic, he can't be on a love boat. THIS IS BS-

And then... the outcry. And we HAVE seen this happen. I mentioned before, he was stated to be aromantic on two occasions by two people who work on the show, one of which is his voice actor (which I'll be fair, I personally don't think VAs always know the characters they play the best, that's the writers). But they had to backpedal because people DID complain. People WERE upset. So it's kind of shown just aromantism isn't really welcomed, at the very least not for a character like Alastor.

And that's the key: "Not for a character like Alastor". But if it were say, Niffty or Mimzy who are either overlooked or just not very popular, THEN it's probably more than okay for a character to be aromantic. Because no one wants to ship with them much, so they can be aromantic all they want.

AKA. The aro community is allowed the scraps but not the dinner.

At this point, you've probably noticed I switched gears from the creators to the fans because I DO think they could be a reason why Alastor "can't" be confirmed as Aromantic. I'll give credit, I'm pretty sure it's mainly on twitter and wouldn't be surprised if it was a "loud minority" thing going on, but the people have spoken. They vehemently cannot STAND the idea of Alastor being aromantic.

But I don't have a problem with these people quite honestly- I mean I kinda do, but my main issue is the lack of commitment when the other characters are allowed confirmed orientations. Why can't aromantic people get confirmed rep? Because "it'll ruin people's fun?" That's such a crappy reason because it's just saying being aro is bad on some level or isn't okay. Why can't the aromantic community get the dinner this ONE TIME? It's one character in a pool of many others that are canonically gay or bi, so why can't the aro community have this ONE popular character?

I'm not even asking for people to stop shipping him, I think that's perfectly FINE. It wouldn't change the canon. I'd appreciate more LOVE given to the aromantic identity (and I'm talking about the far end of it, so absolutely NO interest in romance as many have used aro Alastor but it still comes off as just normal shipping, but that's just me). There's such a double standard to the treatment of aromantic characters to the other characters in these shows (because Octavia and Mammon are in the same boat here), and the reasons given are so crappy that they sound more like off-hand excuses.

Again, I don't MIND people shipping Alastor, or Octavia, or Mammon who is randomly shipped with Adam the most. Let me repeat:

YOU. ARE. ALLOWED. TO. SHIP. THESE. CHARACTER.

But what I have a problem with is that these characters aren't allowed to be OFFICIALLY aromantic. How would it feel if this was a gay character? That they didn't want to confirm it but there's been indications with past statements and even in-universe stuff indicating so? I WANT Viv and her team to STICK with what route they were gonna go with.

And some might argue "what's so bad with nothing being confirmed?" Other than the fact every other character's orientations are allowed confirmation and Viv's crappy way of putting it in not confirming anything. There's, by all technicalities, nothing wrong.

However, if I may pose a counter, why is it fair for people to demand or ask for gay representation or confirmation but not aromantic? Because it's "not ruining anything"? If that's the case, I'm inclined to say that may be a bit aphobic. Because how is it that a character being aromantic can "ruin" the character or something, but a character being gay DOESN'T "ruin" the character. It's a double standard that I don't think most people realize or want to say because you don't want to be dissing on gay stuff.

But WAKE UP SHEEPLE. The gay stuff has PLENTY of things by this point. Whether through fan works or official media, it is growing and it is growing rapidly. And we should be HAPPY about that. But alternatively, Aromantic (and asexual) rep BARELY gets any attention in either fan works or official media. People would be UPSET if a ship like Angel Dust X Vaggie or Stolas X Verosika got into one of the top most popular ships. But Alastor? Nah, it's fine.

Again, while I don't mind the shipping itself, hopefully, you can understand how it might feel to see one of the most popular ships involve a character that goes against their orientation and it's YOUR orientation. It doesn't. Feel. Great.

And not everyone who ships Alastor even would LIKE him to end up with who they ship. Some people just like it staying in fanon. I have met SO MANY nice people who ship Alastor with characters that I personally don't really like him shipped with. But it's clear that I don't think THEY'D mind if he was confirmed aromantic because it doesn't change their life. They'll still keep shipping him because that's fun for them and that's FINE. People explore themselves through characters with confirmed orientations and they don't always line up with canon, and that's FINE. I don't think people should be policed on shipping with the deer man, they're just having fun. Would I appreciate a little more love for the aro identity? Sure (I mean just look at Alastor's ship weeks activeness vs. his aro week activeness), but if that's not how people have fun they shouldn't be forced to do stuff with it.

But Alastor being seemingly "not allowed" to be confirmed as aro has set a precedent that there's something wrong with being aromantic. And personally, it makes me feel a tad unwelcomed sometimes.

It's the precedents. Again, why is every other character's orientation allowed to be confirmed but Alastor's isn't? What is so wrong with him being aromantic? Hell, he might not even BE aromantic. But at least I'd KNOW instead of floundering around hoping upon a star for some aromantic representation.

It's okay to be gay but- WHOA HOLD YOUR HORSES THERE. WE'RE GONNA HAVE TO PUT A PAUSE IN THAT ARO BUSINESS YOU GOT THERE.

A character's worth is in how shippable they are. And if they're aromantic, they're not shippable. And unfortunately, there are just enough people to throw a hissy fit about it that Viv doesn't want to confirm it.

Because apparently being aromantic would "ruin" things.

[lucvly]

girllll please do a smut where matt is on tour the reader is on the phone with him and she starts hearing his heavy breathing and grunts so she stops talking and he says something like “keep talking pretty girl, im so close”

— radio, matt sturniolo. ⸰ 𖥔 ͙

warnings: smut smut smut. also this is short my bad. not proofread.

a/n: oh my god i saw this and knew i had to get cooking. i’m working on so many reqs rn be patient w me i beg !! sensitive stans dni i bite

at first, matt had begged you to come with him on tour, you two were together almost every day so it wouldn’t be all that different from your usual routine. however, as much as you would’ve loved to join him, you had to stay back home and tend to some important work matters. this meant having him away for almost a whole month.

not having your boyfriend around was painful to say the least. sure, you had work, family and friends to keep you busy, but nothing compared to having his presence right there next to you. of course, you texted every day at almost every hour, and you called each other every night to tell the other about your day and just hear each other’s voice.

on this specific night, matt asked you to call him a bit earlier than usual, which you didn’t mind at all. at the end of the day you got to hear your boyfriend’s voice, but it did seem a bit out of the ordinary.

“hi princess, nick and chris went to target to get some things we need, so i figured we could call a bit earlier.” matt spoke, his voice just as sweet as always, though you could sense a small smile in his voice. “tell me about your day, i wanna hear every detail.”

and that’s how an almost endless rant about your day started. you’d had an incredibly long day, you told him all about how you went to the bookstore in the morning and got some books that you’d been dying for, how you’d gotten some work done after that, then you told him about some meaningless argument you had with your mom.

“it was annoying, but– we’ll get over it.” you let out a soft sigh, laying back on your bed.

“i’m sure you will, baby.” matt’s voice seemed a bit deeper and breathier than usual.

his reply made your brows slightly furrow, normally he’d offer some sort of advice, try to comfort you or distract you but his reply was simply– underwhelming. he was never this quiet when it came to you. what on earth could he possibly be doing that made him go quiet— oh. as if on queue, to pull you out of your thoughts, you heard a shaky breath on the other line, followed by a slick and wet movement.

suddenly all the pieces started to click together in your head. was he jerking off? the thought of it made a small smirk appear on your face. you couldn’t believe him. he didn’t even have the decency to tell you so you could help him or join him? so that’s why he called you a bit earlier when his brothers were out, and that’s why he seemed so off throughout the call.

a part of you just wanted to go ahead and join him, tell him how much you’ve missed him over the past few weeks, how much you’ve been craving his fingers inside of you, or simply how much you’ve missed him inside of you. but the other part of you wanted to see how far he was willing to take this. it was funny enough that he didn’t realize you were already catching onto his situation, teasing him a little wouldn’t hurt.

“what should i do? i’m just, upset. you know?” your voice managed to sound the slightest bit sad, yet a smirk was displayed on your face.

“i– yeah, i mean–” he cut himself off before reconsidering continuing further with an act he knew he wasn’t going to be able to keep up with any longer. the slick sounds from the other line had picked up a quicker and swifter speed.

“hm?” you only let out a hum. knowing he was getting off to your voice was incredibly hot, but you wanted to see what would happen if you just– stopped talking. knowing you had full control over him without him even realizing it was simply arousing.

all that could be heard from the phone were soft grunts and heavy breaths, followed by some slick sounds which only made the smirk on your face grow slightly wider.

“fuck– princess, just do me a favor and keep talking for me, yeah? i promise i’ll make it up to you.” his voice was breathy, short pauses with shaky breaths between almost every word.

“care to tell me what’s going on?” you teased, letting out a soft giggle. you were just as turned on as he was, but you wanted to focus on your boyfriend’s pleasure first and foremost because of the short amount of time you had before his brothers came back.

“shit– just keep talking, pretty girl, i’m so close, please.” his breathing was shaky, you could hear the slick and wet sounds getting louder, picking up a quicker speed as a low grunt could be heard over the phone. “god, i miss you. i miss being inside of you.”

“and i miss having you here with me, i wish i could take care of you,” your voice was sweet, and your cheeks started to heat up with the tint of a soft pink color. “i miss you.”

your voice was needy and barely even audible, but those three words were all he needed to reach his release. the pace of the wet sounds managed to quicken even more before a soft “shit–” could be heard over the phone, followed by a slightly louder groan as the slick sounds began to cease.

“you’re the best, you know that?” his voice was almost a whisper. he was clearly tired out, his voice a bit deeper yet softer than usual.

“at least let me join next time,” you joked, playfully rolling your eyes as if he was right there next to you to see it. a small smile was still displayed across your face as you twirled a strand of hair around your finger.

“i will. i promise. next time will be all about you, princess.”

[beautifulsavagegarden]

Lestat had made plans should Paris ever feature in their life together but he had not wished for it. There were too many ghosts and monsters wandering the dark, winding streets of Paris. He had known that Armand would have wanted Louis, how could he not? Louis was perfect and beautiful from soul to heart, right down to the core of his being and the very bones of his body. Louis had captivated Lestat and he had known that he would do the same for Armand and Armand was greedy and would take what he could. Lestat felt as though he were lurking between sleeping and waking, part of him lying in a coffin subsisting on the intrusions of the rats that had so fascinated him in the earliest days of his transformation. He still recalled picking them up and examining their little toes. The other part of him was in Paris, the part of him that dwelled within Louis, and together they walked and spoke and loved and argued, just as they always had done. Their love was not easy but it was all that he could ever have wanted. Louis was the other part of him and this had only been made clearer in recent years.

Lestat, reluctantly, leaned back, restoring the limited distance between them. The closer they were, the more Lestat wanted to grab him and kiss him and hold him and cry with him for all that they had been and all that they had lost. This was when he was dreaming. This time with Louis, these were his dreams and oh such heartbreakingly wonderful dreams they were. He did not want them to end, did not want to return to his healing body and the rats that brought him closer to being the vampire Lestat once more.

"I think that is when I am awake." Lestat replied after a few moments thought. He didn't want to be in that theatre with Louis. It was too painful even after all the time that had passed. It was not just the ghosts of the life he had once lived but what Armand and the troupe had done to the theatre that had given him the love and admiration that he had craved so desperately in the isolation of the Auvergne. "I told you there is a chord that joins us that you cannot see." Lestat smiled almost wryly.

Lestat laughed softly but not mockingly when Louis asked him if he remembered what their lives had been like before Claudia had joined them, creating and then destroying their happy little family. Louis' smile brought a softness and sweetness to Lestat's own smile and it was as though there were no distance and no pain between them, as though the years of his mistakes and Louis' anger and dismissiveness had been scrubbed away.

"I couldn't forget even if I wanted to mon cher. You made me happy Louis, so very happy." He paused, hand reaching out to brush his fingers against Louis' hand, his thumb stroking along the inside of Louis' wrist. "You always have and you always will." The words were softly spoken, barely above a whisper, as though they were deeply intimate words. In a way, he supposed they were. They were far simpler times and although they had their problems, there was a lot of love there and Lestat was both comforted and haunted by the memories, of the lazy nights in bed where they learned the rhythm and language of each other's bodies and Lestat had sung gentle songs, pressing the notes into Louis' skin as he placed kisses along his lover's curves and dips. There was not a single part of Louis' body that Lestat did not know and remember.

"My favourite memory..." He trailed off for a moment, his eyes growing slightly glassy as he tried not to weep with the emotions that memory elicited in him. "Is when I carried you from bed into the library to the chaise and you didn't realise that I had filled the shelves for you, that it was my true gift for our anniversary." His voice grew a touch tighter with the emotions that threatened to destroy him.

❛ in my dreams, we’re still together. ❜

@operahouses

Lestat knew that feeling very well, was intimately familiar with it because almost every dream that he had was of Louis. Louis was his everything and he had been since that first moment he had seen him on the streets of the city that had become the home of his heart. He had not expected New Orleans to be as it was and he certainly had not expected Louis. He had believed that his capacity to love had been buried on that Greek island. Louis had been a shock, a revelation, and Lestat had been utterly lost to him. The only thing that had changed since then had been an ever deepening love of Louis. He had infected every inch of Lestat's soul and he couldn't regret that. He could, however, regret the mistakes that he had made in his relationship. He would give anything, everything, to make it right and for those dreams to become a reality once again.

"In my soul, we are still together." The words were barely above a whisper as he smiled gently and warmly at Louis, his eyes filled with both love and sorrow; love for this man and sorrow for the chasm that was between them, a chasm that he had opened in the earth by his own actions. It was cause and effect. If he hadn't made the mistakes, not just with Louis but with Claudia too, they would not have ended up in this position. He did not hate Louis for what he had done, did not despise him or even Claudia truly. He would have done much the same in their position.

He leaned in closer to Louis, wishing that they could touch just even one more time. It was a touch that would sustain him, a touch that would forever linger beneath his skin, the memory of that one person who had truly seen him and chosen to love him in spite of that.

[tales-of-wocdes]

I sent a whole different ask. God hopefully you got it because sometimes they get lost on here but MC with glowing hair btw adorable af.

My MC has white hair so i definitely am going for a very angelic stoic vibe. Also Mr creepy mc creeperson. At the end of the demo gave me the goddamn creeps.

Dude has issues. I think it was a dude... dk... but eitherway they need therapy or an exorcism. Or a gallow. Something 😑

I think I got the previous one :D The queue is quite long for my responses right now, and they are in roughly in the order they come in :D

Thank you for the asks!

Glowing hair would indeed be adorable, and a stoic MC is a lot of fun :D Just observing the world. I will admit, I noticed I tend to use the "stoic MC" quite often to give options when they have no idea what to do :D I trust that people will tell me if it gets too bad.

Stuff about end of demo and some (gruesome) lore below that the gallows brought out.

At first I forgot what I included at the end of the demo and kept thinking if the end of C2 landed a bit wrong :D Then it dawned on me that there was indeed more included. Yes, the very end of the demo was meant to be rather unpleasant. Happy to hear I succeeded in making it creepy :D An odd sentiment to feel. Still, an exorcism might not be enough to solve these issues.

The gallows bring me to lore that I totally did not just decide on right now: Public executions are rare in Firgrat. When they do happen, they are not drawn out affairs. The Ancients would prefer not to glorify torturing people for nothing more than entertainment. Gallows are supposed to be fairly efficient but still can take a few minutes. So other means are used. Quick and efficient means.

[mellomak22-blog]

Can you do a pre-wednesday Tyler, like right after he comes back from boot camp, and the reader goes to the coffee shop and he's working there, and the reader doesn't realize he's back and she's always had a bit of a crush on him but is still weary of him because of the incident that happened with Xavier.

The show Wednesday! Okay, I can do that. Here's a cute and awkward first interaction with Tyler Galpin ever since he returned from boot camp. Here goes :)

Desc: awkward fluff, feminine presenting reader. Use of she/her

Warnings: none

Ding ding! The tiny little bell on the counter rang through Tyler’s ears. Normally, the Weathervane never got busy. They got a few of their regulars each day, and during autumn, it got a little crowded. But it was never this busy.

“Tyler, get that!” His father shouted from the break room, sitting in a chair with a newspaper in hand. Tyler was in the back, making practice of his latte art. The clover he just tried to do getting messed up, adding to his frustration. A long sigh draws from his lips. Sheriff Galpin was a hardass. He was especially hard on his son when he didn’t live up to the expectations Donovan wanted him to meet. Acting like a total dick in school was just the icing on the cake. His dad sent him to boot camp, with the hopes of his son returning “a better man” who’d get himself a job (Apparently being a barista boy would do that).

It was only Tyler’s second day working at the Weathervane cafe, and he wasn’t thrilled having to work on such a busy day when normally all he could do was make a cup of coffee from a Keurig machine.

Y/N sighs. When am I going to get a coffee? She slams her palm on the bell, ringing it rapidly. Dingdingdingdingdingdi-

“Coming!” Queue Tyler Galpin. He flashes a polite smile and pushes his annoyance down into his throat. “Sorry about the wait! What can I get you?” He leans in, folding his arms on the counter and looking joyfully at his customer. Y/N gulps, and it feels like all the eyes are on her. Tyler wasn’t supposed to be here, she was supposed to ring the bell and her best friend was supposed to drag herself out and her mood would change and they’d bounce up and down together and-

“Hello? Miss?” He chuckles nervously when y/n breaks free from her thoughts and meets his gaze of green eyes. “Oh, sorry. I was just- I was trying to remember everything I needed to order!” She skillfully lied. “But um… is Lilli here?” Her gaze scans the area, trying to find something else to focus on to take away from this god awful experience. “Nope, she’s taking a day off today. It’s just me.” He forces a smile. “Oh, okay. My bad. Can I get an iced mocha latte with 2 pumps of chocolate syrup in it?”

Tyler blinks and there’s a beat of silence as he grabs something. He lifts up a bottle of Hershey’s chocolate syrup. “...This?” Not something he had seen often, but it could be done. Y/N looks like she wants to curl into a ball. “Oh! Haha geez I meant vanilla syrup. Like the flavoring!” She scrambles the last of her words out, wanting to smack herself upside the head. “Oh. Alrighty. And what size…did you want that?” Doing his best, he smiles again, softer this time, in hopes of alleviating the pain this was. She gave a helpless looking grin back. Could it get any worse? “Large is fine. That’s it.”

He turns around, getting to work on her drink. Oh god. Are you fucking kidding me? What was that shit? Y/N went to school with Tyler and they had shared a few classes. He sat behind her in math class, where she daydreamed about him just reaching forward and playing with her hair, and he sat next to her in history. They had english together too, but he was across the room. Seeing him here after having disappeared for a while caught her off guard and it threw her out of her rhythm at the Weathervane. 

His agitation gradually went away as he got to work on the drink, and soon enough it was done. “Hereee ya go.” He presses a few buttons on the screen at the register. “It’s $7.01.” Tyler offers a plain smile. Y/N fights off making a face. Geez. Lilli must’ve usually given me a discount every time. Damn. She braves a brief grin and pays for the drink. With a quick thanks, she scurries off and out the door. The bells on the door jingling again as she leaves. 

“Are you kidding me?! You took a personal day?!” Y/N scolds her friend. A muffled response comes from Lilli over the phone as y/n sips her latte. She fires back. “Well, no. Oh but you DID kinda forget to mention that Tyler was back in town and that you  w o r k  with him! When were you gonna tell me that?” Y/N stomps away, heading to her next designation. Tyler is back to practicing his latte art.

[zeddimusprime]

Trans Man Noah Diaz

The first time I saw Rise of the Beasts, I read Noah as a Trans Man, and that headcanon just solidified after my second viewing.

I’ll get the heavy reasons out of the way first, and work down to the most silly ones.

The section that was here before has been removed, because I was overstepping and someone rightly called me out on it. However. I’m not going to lie and pretend I didn’t do what I did. I deleted the comment that called me out because it made me feel bad, I panicked, and deleted it to save my own ego. It was wrong, it was cowardly, it was fucked up, and I shouldn’t have done it.

I truly am sorry, and have spent the last day sitting with myself until I stopped trying to excuse my behavior and just acknowledged what I did. I am not asking for forgiveness, I can only try going forward to be the kind of person deserving of it.

For now, I’m taking a break from this blog, leaving it on a queue, and I won’t be posting here for a while. Even though that isn’t the kind of person I want to be, I need to reckon with the fact that that is the kind of person I am. I’m sorry, once again.

1994 was also the year Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell was put into place, which, for those too young to remember, was basically a policy allowing queer and trans people to serve in the military so long as they remained closeted, and prohibited superiors from forcibly outing them. Given that we’re never actually told in the film why Noah was discharged, it’s not unreasonable to think that it may have been because he got found out as trans.

The part that’s particularly personal for me is his relationship with Kris. I’ve also got a little brother that’s quite a bit younger than me, and I acted as an extra parent to him, practically raised him since we were both latchkey kids, and yeah, there’s no doubt in my mind that I’d face the apocalypse head on if it meant keeping him safe. All that to say, it’s comforting to think that Noah’s identity as a man is inseparable from his identity as a Big Brother, the way it is for me.

Most of my other reasons are less serious:

Noah wears a lot of layers and baggy clothes on his upper half, which yes, was part of 90s fashion, but it’s also how I dressed for most of my life, even before I realized I was trans.

Noah is also non-toxically masculine in a way that’s not unheard of but also not as common for men, especially service members, of that time period. Again, there may very well be a cultural component I’m missing here, let me know if there is, but this is just something I related to as a Guy Who Wasn’t Raised As One.

This last one’s kinda silly, but I’m a Car Guy, and one of the most gender euphoria inducing things I can do is work on my car. There’s few things that make me feel like Man quite like sweat on my brow and grease on my hands and a purring engine from a job well done. So for Noah to not only be a tech wiz but specifically a Mechanic? That was the thing that really sold me on this headcanon. (And that’s not even getting into the very fun implications of Noah being the one to repair Mirage, to get to know him so intimately, literally inside and out. Very nice.)

(I also love the idea that rather than being weirded out or taken aback at first like he is in some fics, Noah would be kinda weirdly affirmed to find out that not only does Mirage have some of roughly the same *equipment* while still being treated as and being a Mech, but his setup is the norm for Cybertronians. I can so picture Noah anxiously telling Mirage about his situation when they finally get together only for Mirage to be like “you mean other human mechs don’t have a 🐈??? Like, most humans only have one or the other?????”)

[thessalian]

Thess vs The Usual Aggravations

Well, we're getting more or less back to normal. Temp's back on a phased return, so she's doing fewer hours for a bit, but otherwise we've got everybody in. Well. In theory. I mean, except for when The Other Part-Timer has an appointment that apparently she didn't bother to tell anyone about until it was, "Oh, I have to leave for the entire afternon". And Goblin having an appointment that meant she was out in the morning. And Temp coming in an hour later than she originally said she would. You know - poor communication bullshit that Scruffman lets slide because he dislikes confrontation.

Now, it's nice that we're back to at most low three figures in the typing queue. Like, a little over a hundred. The problem is that the girls are back to the same old bullshit when it comes to the typing. One of the girls, and I have no idea which one, took a bunch of typing out of the queue yesterday morning and put it all back in in the mid-afternoon, which meant that I had to bust my ass if I wanted to have all of the previous day's typing done by close of play (which is our basic target). And today ... well, we didn't quite manage that, but that's only because I got fed up. Only four cases were dumped back int the queue in the mid-afternoon when by timestamp they should have been finished that morning. Just they were Annoyances, one and all. Worse - training Annoyances; ones taking their cues from other producers of Annoyances (and Monstrosities, worse yet) on top of the kinds of mistakes and tripping-over-words you get from a trainee.

I did three out of the four. I refused to get stuck with all four. I absolutely fucking refused. Goblin's in until half-five; she can handle the bullshit. Because, seriously, I am exhausted and in pain and really not feeling well, but I am getting through it because I have next week off and the workload will look bad enough as it is when I get back without being off. Because ... well, seriously. I give the others the consideration of trying to keep things at least a little manageable when they're away - more for the patients than for them, but still. Do they do me the same courtesy? Absolutely not. I wish I knew why the hell I alway seem to end up with colleagues who take ridiculous advantage of my work ethic and basic consideration. There have to be good secretaries out there, right? I can't be the only one. It's not that all my contemporaries in the field are lazy mares with no understanding of what our job means, is it? Because that would depress the hell out of me.

Scruffman sent me an email thanking me for all my hard work the last six weeks. "We'd have been lost without you" is what he said. I swear, though, if the rest of his team don't stop dumping the worst of everything on me, I'm going to end up the one on the sick leave, and I would bet serious money that we won't fare nearly as well if I end up on sick leave. Apparently they can survive losing any number of people for awhile ... as long as that person's not me.

I'd bring up the issues to Scruffman again, but seriously, nothing ever happens, and frankly he shouldn't have to be hovering over his typists to ensure they distribute the workload evenly and don't cherrypick only the easiest and least annoying bits of typing to the exclusion of all else. And that's what he'd have to do, because they might improve for a week but then right back to the laziness when the dust settles. It may not be a reflection on my value to the department, but it's still depressing as fuck when I bring up a complaint and nothing happens. It's not like it's Scruffman's fault that my colleagues are lazy, and there's not much he can do about it. He's spoken to them, but they've just gone back to base lazy soon after. Scruffman can't police them - he has other duties, so all he can really look at is if the typing's getting done, and it is, so ... sucks to be me.

At least there's no overtime.

[steve-brules-rules]

Hi. My life has been thrown into chaos nd I’ve been on queue for many days now :)) But I’m not gonna let the chaos win

I’m combining days 6 thru 8 of beweirdoctober because this is MY blog and I am the captain :]

6: Origins

Since Ryan has managed to pierce the veil of reality (& they got a boyfriend out of it ❤️), they and Dasein see ALOT of things they probably aren’t meant to interact with. Ryan was given the opportunity to learn about their past during a very strange misadventure involving weird autonomous shadow magic creatures only they and Dasein could see.

Aside from the fact that Ryan was doubtful about the creatures’ powers, they were pretty frustrated about it. I guess wandering around a sandy dungeon in Mirage for 11 hours will make you very cranky :]

These things wanted to manipulate Ryan into using their abilities to help the creature take over the spiral. Ofc, that’s not gonna happen hehe. But they showed Ryan a version of themselves that lived on earth with parents and school and a job, and even a spouse and kids later on.

But instead of making Ryan sad and emotionally vulnerable like they’d hoped, it just made Ryan verrrry angry lolol They were sick of wandering around in the excessive heat while trying to stop a bunch of sniveling creatures who wanted to toy with their emotions to get their way. Ryan yelled at the creatures for a very VERY long time for thinking this guilt tactic would somehow work. They don’t have any memories of life before the spiral, so none of these images meant anything to them. They’re already a self sufficient adult with magic god powers, and they wouldn’t want to live in any reality where they couldn’t be with Dasein.

In the end, Ryan’s reaction freaked out the creatures so bad that they promised not to mess with them anymore, and Ryan left in a huff to go home to fall asleep for 16 hours. Dasein was alot more affected by it than Ryan was, and it took him a few days to calm down after that absolute mindfreak.

Ryan’s still not sure if the things they saw were a bluff, or an actual alternate reality. They could never tell poor Dasein, because they don’t want to send him into another anxious meltdown, but they get a sick feeling in their stomach that it wasn’t all lies.

7. Likes

Well, most of all, Ryan likes Dasein :] since they’re both basically gods from outside the spiral, it’s like they were made for eachother ! Sometimes they get into arguments or drive eachother crazy with annoying little habits, but at the end of the day, they’re still deeply in love for the rest of time BECAUSE I SAY SO :] ❤️ Dasein’s pretty frickin powerful (I mean he’s a whole world ffs) so he can leave Novus and go wherever he wants, but in the beginning, it was a little difficult for him to get the hang of splitting his consciousness and leaving. They were both falling apart over the idea of being separated again after Ryan had gone on walkabout just to rescue Dasein. So they came up with the idea of having Ryan wear a pendant with a little container of Novus dirt. With that physical anchor, Dasein was able to pass through the spiral door with Ryan. He also struggled with staying in one place while he was asleep, so Ryan frantically dumped dirt all over the floor of their apartment in the arcanum in the middle of the night :] nowadays, they don’t have to worry about dirt, but Ryan still keeps a tiny bit of it in a locket around their neck as a memento, and a physical reminder of their love for Dasein

Ryan also likes any and all food from Mirage. They get a funny smile when they’re trying to contain their excitement at getting to eat it, and Dasein thinks it’s adorable. Sometimes, he brings some home for dinner as a surprise, just to watch Ryan’s reaction

8. Dislikes

Ryan isn’t a fan of all the notoriety and responsibility that comes with being a god. They sometimes miss the days when they were just a student, and they could stop to take a break almost anytime they wanted. But now if they’re called away, even in the middle of the night, they have to get up and go help.

Ryan also dislikes diplomacy. They’re often called on to be a diplomat, and they hate it. It’s very boring to them, and they aren’t great at being tactful at the best of times. Dasein is much better at that stuff. Ryan prefers solving problems with spells.

[monstergoblin]

The Owl Pirates Chapter Fifteen

First Chapter Tumblr Link HERE

Previous Chapter Tumblr Link HERE

Posted First On A03 Here 

It’ll be updated on A03 first and might take me a bit to get to updating it here as I always seem to forget about my tumblr. <3

 Trigger Warnings Always Read Safe: Depression, Suicidal thoughts, Pushing down feelings, Overworking self to ignore feelings, Child Abuse (Belos is a bitch okay), Gaslighting, Self Gaslighting, Manipulation, Injuries

Notes: Sorry for those who read it on Tumblr. I forgot to update here yesterday <3 I usually have them queued up but fourteen was the last one in the Queue

Chapter 15: Dark Clouds

       Truthfully he hadn’t felt cold that evening. Everyone was in the galley and even with the door open it had plenty of body heat to keep everyone a comfortable temperature. He felt chilly sitting outside to talk with Hunter but that wasn’t very long and it wasn’t so bad. Watching Matt storm away Gus actually remembered it was cold out.

       Honestly Gus hadn’t meant to hurt the boy's feelings.

       He just thought it was cute when Matt got all defensive, even if it wasn’t really necessary. Hunter was clearly not comfortable here and Gus might have made the ex-navy feel useless by offering to help. He should’ve phrased it better or made sure to tell the boy it was to make things more fair as Hunter had the most chores on the ship- probably Liliths doing but Gus couldn’t say for sure.

        Gus probably looked very stupid standing in the doorway of the galley with two plates.

       Everyone had heard and seen anyway, it wasn’t like a ship was the best place for secrets anyway. Even if everyone still had a few. Hiding arguments was almost impossible.

       With a sigh Gus turned into the galley and put Matts plate on the table, unsure as what to do with the extra food. They did not want to waste it- that wasn’t a smart thing at sea.

       “What happened?” Camila was sitting at the table and happened to be next to where Gus put down the plate.

       “I shouldn’t have laughed at him.” Gus shrugged. 

       “You boys.” Perry tutted, stabbing his food with his fork. “If either of you had a clue-”

       “Dad, not now.” Gus moaned. 

       Perry raised a brow and looked as if he had more to say- as he usually did involving Gus- but instead took a bite of his food.

       “You should let him cool off.” Camila gave a smile. “Whatever that was about I’m sure you two will talk.”

       “It’s not a big argument.” Gus assured. “I just said something stupid. I’ll talk to him later.”

       He understood why the adults always tried to help. He really did- but sometimes it wasn’t as big a deal as they made it out to be. Especially when it was over something they didn’t have all the pieces too. 

       The thought of Matt upset in the crew quarters made Gus’s stomach sick.

       He knew how sensitive the boy could be and he had only said it to tease- he just sometimes took it too far. Matt had acted rashly because he thought Hunter was being rude- and Gus was right, it was ironic. 

       Gus knew Matt was probably over thinking Gus’s little chuckle at him and then teasing him.

       It wasn’t always- a lot of the times Gus could tease Matt and it would be fine. He’d even get the boy to turn red and that was Gus’s favorite ability of his. Though Matt did have issues regarding confidence.

       Gus knew what that was like.

       “What happened now?” Willow asked as Gus sat next to her, Amity and Luz.

       “I laughed at him.” Gus sighed. 

       “Over what?” Amity pried. “You were only outside for a few minutes?”

       “He was just angry.” Gus looked back to the door, he could make out the stairs Hunter was under from here. “I didn’t mean to.”

       “You thought he was cute.” Luz smirked.

       Gus could feel his face heat up as he snapped his head around to face Luz’s knowing grin.

       “Ah, you made him feel bad.” Willow put it together. “You should go talk to him- but- maybe let him cool down.”

       “I know that, and I will.” Gus sighed. “You sound like Camila.”

       “I’ll take that as a complement.” Willow held her head proudly.

       Amity opened her mouth to say something but a crash of thunder interrupted.

       The galley fell silent as Eda stood and looked up to the sky from the doorway. She looked back at the crew all waiting orders.

       “We’re heading for it.” Eda sighed. “Might be a long night.”

       Gus could make out Hunter coming out from under the stairs and push past Eda to get into the galley. He often did that to put his dish away after eating. He stopped and crossed his arms after his dish was put away and looked to the captain.

       So maybe he did hold some sort of respect for the owl lady. Even if Hunter himself didn’t realize it.

       “Does it look terrible?” Camila stood as well.

       “Hard to tell.” Eda sighed. “Storms at night are never fun. Everyone finish your meals quickly and then get to the deck.”

--------

       The medbays light flickered as the wind outside howled. The waves were getting stronger, beating against the front of the ship. Matt sat on the bed debating on staying in the medbay for the storm. Not like they really needed his help anyway. They survived enough storms out here to know what they were doing. Even on a small ship like the Talon.

       He could almost hear the talk Steve would have with him after if he didn’t come out for the storm.

       So he came out of the Medbay instantly hit with the harsh cold of the night storm. Lighting flashed overhead making the small boy jump.

       Eda was shouting orders and Lilith was at the helm. Camila was making sure everyone was secure. Everyone was rushing about obeying Eda and working together.

       And once again Matt didn’t feel like he actually belonged on the ship. Only here because Steve was his guardian.

       “Brace yourselves!” Eda screamed.

       Matt turned to see the front of the ship steering straight towards a large wave. He ran to the rails to hang on. The crack of thunder boomed as the ship plunged into the wave. 

      If Matt had already been wet from the rain but now he was soaked.

       “Hunter!” Luz shouted.

       Matt turned towards her voice to see that the ex-navy was clinging to the side of the rails. 

       He darted towards the older boy and pulled him back over onto deck. He was a lot heavier than Matt had expected.

       Hunter opened his mouth but another crash of a wave caused both boys to loose their footing. Hunter tumbled away and Gus clung to the rails now in the position Hunter had been in before. 

       “Brace!” Eda shouted again.

       Matt tried to pull himself back over the railing not daring to look at the size of the wave that could be his impending doom.

       A pair of hands grabbed onto his arms and Matt looked up to meet the eyes of Gus. Gus’s eyes that were glowing blue.

        Fuck.

       Gus pulled Matt over the railing and before Matt could catch his footing, led him over to a mast to hang on as the ship crashed against the waves.

       Gus’s eyes were back to his normal dark color.

       They didn’t have time to talk about that now.

       “Everyone accounted for?!” Camila called looking around she looked at each person as if taking note who was on board. “Where’s King?”

       “He fell in!” Luz shouted.

       “What?” The surprise came from Hunter who turned to look off the side of the ship.

       “He can breath down there!” Luz explained. “He’ll be alright!”

       “Where’s Matt?” Camila asked and Matt pushed himself into her view and gave a wave she nodded.

       “I don’t think we lost anyone. King will find us again.” Eda called. “He’s probably right below us. Why did the little squirt have to come out of our quarters.”

       “Not the time Edalyn!” Lilith shouted.

       Lighting cracked above and Matt pushed himself away from the mast to help fill out the commands.

       It wasn’t the worst storm they had faced, but it still felt like a terrible one. It was probably just how small the Talon was. It had to be well past midnight before they were able to rest as the light tap of rain still remained but the overall danger of the storm was gone.

       Matt collapsed against the mast breathing heavily. He really wanted nothing more than to walk to medbay and sleep in one of the beds- like he normally did- but his limbs were to tired to move.

       Gus was short to follow sliding against the mast not far from him. Somehow they always ended up working together. They made a good team.

       Matt still wasn’t sure Gus didn’t find him as annoying as everyone else did.

       “I’m going to die.” Gus whined slouching further down. He had done a lot and like Matt his limbs probably felt like rocks. “Make sure my funeral is amazing.” Gus dramatically cried.

       Matt chuckled, not feeling like even turning his head to look at the other boy. He himself was also ready to collapse. It was hard work even for a small ship and a small crew. It actually felt easier surviving harsh storms back on the large navy ship that Lilith had run. Probably was.

       “So, What you see?” Matt asked, more curious than anything. When Gus didn’t answer he willed his head to turn and look at him. “I saw your eyes. I know you saw something.”

       “It wasn’t important.” Gus melted further down against the mast. Matt could be mistaken but Gus’s cheeks looked red- but that could be from the cold.

       “At least tell me if it was past or future.” Matt complained. “It’s about me isn’t it? That’s how it works right?”

       “Most of the time.” Gus admitted. “It’s about who or what I’m touching. I don’t control it very well.”

       “So what was the vision?”

       “Future.” Gus whispered. “I- you- “ He stumbled and refused to look at Matt.

       Was it bad?

       “It’s not important.” Gus decided. “I’m going to bed.” and the boy lifted himself up slowly to stumble towards the crews quarters.

       Gus didn’t usually keep his visions a secret from his friends. Sure, sometimes he didn’t tell them all the details as Gus said they could be hard to comprehend, but he usually said something if he had one about any of his friends. The last time it had happened with Matt, Gus told him he saw his mother’s funeral.

       So what did he see this time that he couldn’t share?

       ---------

       Last night's storm took it out of everyone. Hunter was the first one other than Lilith and Hooty awake in the morning. As he didn’t have a babysitter Hunter took to sitting on the stairs and reading Rulers Reach as the sun slowly rose above the horizon.

       It was peaceful compared to the night.

       Something Lilith apparently did not want Hunter to enjoy.

       “Whatcha reaaading?” Hooty landed on the stairs railing peering over Hunters shoulder at the book. “OOOO Rulers Reach That’s a good one! Have you gotten to the part-”

       “Don’t spoil it!” Hunter snapped the book close. “What do you want?”       “Lilith sent me over here to keep you company!” Hooty hopped down off the railing onto the stairs next to Hunter. “She said you looked awfully pathetic all alone.”

       “I’m not pathetic.” Hunter defended but his voice cracked, betraying him.

       “Yeah you were pretty handy to have around last night!” Hooty agreed. “I thought we were gonna lose you!”

       “Did King come back on board?” Hunter asked quietly.

       “What?!” Hooty strained his head to be closer to Hunters face. “I can’t hear you when you mumble speak up!”

       Hunter pushed the owl back down and stood to be further from him. “I said did King come back on board?”

       “Oh yeah!” Hooty shrugged and flapped his wings to get back on the railing. “As soon as the waves calmed down Eda helped him back up. Why!? Were you worrieeeeed?” The owl somehow looked to be smirking despite being an owl that should not be capable of such things.

       “I just was curious.” Hunter snapped, walking away trying to escape the owl.

       Hooty would not take that for an answer and perched upon Hunters head. “AW already forming attachments. Look at you growing so close to the crew!”

       “Shouldn’t you be asleep!” Hunter tried to hit the owl but he flew up to avoid the boys attacks.

       “Why would I be asleep when it’s so nice out?” Hooty chirped.

       “Because you’re nocturnal!”

       “I am?!” Hooty cheered. “Oh boy what does that mean!”

       “You’re awake at night and sleep during the day!” Hunter explained but as the words came out he realized he’d never seen Hooty asleep. Sure, he’d seen Owlbert, and once in a while Hooty wasn’t accounted for.

       Did Hooty sleep?

       “Ooooooo.” Hooty held. “That’s an oooowl thing! Luz said that I didn’t act like a normal owl once. If that’s acting like Owlbert you should be grateful! I am much better company hooot!” 

        Hunter walked up the ship to where Lilith was and pointed at the owl who was still talking his ear off.

       Lilith snorted as Hunter crossed his arms. “Hootsifer is great company.” She stated. “You looked rather alone sitting down there.”

       “I was reading.” Hunter defended. “Can’t I read alone?”

       “I didn’t say you were doing anything wrong. Just that you seemed bored.” Lilith smirked, still holding the helm with both arms. 

       “So you send the torture device?” Hunter gestured at Hooty who did not seem to pick up on the fact no one was listening to his spill.

       “Torture device?” Lilith scoffed she looked up to Hooty. “He’s just trying to connect with you. Hootsifer,”

       Hooty stopped talking, looking down at Lilith. “Lilly?” 

       “Perhaps we talk about something Hunter is interested in.” She gave a smile and held out an arm.

       “How is he not interested in comparing me to Owlbert? He was the one who said I was supposed to be nocturnal.” Hooty perched on Liliths arm. “And He doesn’t want me to spooooil his booook.” He looked at Hunter with large curious eyes.

       Everything about the bird made Hunter uneasy.

       “How about magical items?” Lilith raised a questioning brow to Hunter. “I heard Luz say you were trying to figure yours out.”

       She knew better than anyone he shouldn’t have even kept the thing.

       “Magic Items!” Hooty cheered. “Those are so fun! Let’s see it!”

       Hunter pulled his necklace out of his shirt holding it up. He regretted not taking the thing off as Hooty saw this as a sign to get into Hunter's face to inspect it.

       “It’s got a bird on it!” Hooty chirped. “It’s got a bird on it!”

       “May I see it?” Lilith held out a hand.

       Hunter did not want to let her touch it. He still didn’t trust her or like her. She had always been so cold- so distant- yet here she was trying to help him.

       He took off the necklace and handed it to her.

       She held it up and Hooty returned to her shoulder to look with her.

       “It’s well crafted.” She noticed. “Still figuring out how to activate it?”

       “Luz said it could be a word.” Hunter crossed his arms trying not to look like Lilith holding his necklace was affecting him, because it shouldn’t. It was just a magical necklace he kept for research purposes- and to please Gus.

       “Perhaps she’s mistaken.” Lilith held the necklace out and Hunter snatched it putting it back around his neck where it belonged. “It might be a name.” 

       “I have to name it?” Hunter looked down at the pendant.

       “It’s a possibility, but it likely already has a name.” Lilith explained. “Give it a shot, see if picking a name works.”

       Hunter looked down at the little engraved bird. “What do I name it?” He questioned looking up at Lilith.

       “Hooty jr!” Hooty butted in excitedly. “I will take them under my wing! We’ll be best friends!”

       Lilith chuckled. “What do you want to name it?”

       Hunter returned his gaze down at the bird.

       What did he want to name it?

       “Bloodwing.” Hunter decided.

       Lilith broke into a fit of laughter. When Hunter glared at her she covered her mouth.

       “Sorry- sorry.” She wiped a tear away. “Just unexpected coming from you.”

       “What does that mean?” Hunter pouted.

       “Nothing.” Lilith’s smile was wide. “Well it didn’t seem to work. So it might have a name already, or Luz could be right and it’s an activation word. Magic items are really a mystery until one learns to use them, and each is unique.”

       Hunter looked back down at the pendant.

       He was starting to wonder if the thing just wasn’t magical.

       “You can try reading out loud.” Lilith shrugged. “maybe one of the words will activate it.”

       “Read- to the necklace.” Hunter repeated looking up at her with disbelief.

       “You know how many words are in a book?” Lilith stated. “One of them might be the one you’re looking for. “

       “Okay. I’ll try it.” Hunter sighed, heading back down the stairs.

       “I’ll come with you!” Hooty declared sitting on the boys head again. “I love hearing people read!”

       Hunter looked to Lilith for help but she only shrugged. 

       So, he was stuck with the bird- creature- cursed owl- whatever Hooty wanted to call himself. Hunter returned to his seat on the stairs and took Liliths advice to read aloud. Hooty actually was a quiet listener only chiming in on things that happened in the book and hinting at ‘foreshadowing’. Hunter did his best to ignore the bird and read.

       He really was enjoying the book anyway.

       It was lunch before Hunter knew it. Which is when most of the crew was awake- Eda being the only one still asleep. Hunter sat in the galley as lunch was taken in shifts, the kids would eat and then the adults so it was a lot less crowded and there was actually room at the table. Hunter truthfully hadn’t really been paying much attention to the conversation the kids were having until Matt hit the table with a loud bang.

       “Why won't you tell me?” Matt snapped, staring at Gus. “Was it that bad?”

       “It wasn’t bad.” Gus defended. “I just- don’t think- I don’t know if you can handle it right now.”

       “What do you mean can’t handle it!” Matt stood. “I’m not that weak, Augustus!” he sounded almost hurt.

       “I wasn’t saying that.” Gus whined.

       “But you won't tell me! So clearly you think so!” Matt stormed out of the galley taking his food with him.

       Hunter watched the short one leave.

       Maybe he should pay more attention. He was missing a lot of context.

       “Augustus.” Luz whistled. “He was really mad, haven't heard him call you that in a while.”

       “I know.” Gus put his head on the table and wrapped his arms around it. “I didn’t even get to apologize for before yet.”

       “Gus!” Willow sighed. “You said you would.”

       “Haven’t exactly had time yet.” Gus sighed. “And then I had to go and have a stupid vision and now I’m making it worse.”

       “So, just tell him what you saw and apologize for laughing at him.” Amity shrugged. “Explain that you don’t think he’s weak and annoying because clearly he thinks you do.”

       “He should know I don’t.” Gus whined. “And I can’t tell him.”

       “You do think he’s weak and annoying?” Luz raised her brows in surprise.

       “No!” Gus sighed. “No I don’t. The vision-”

       “What is it that bad?” Willow asked.

       “No!” Gus’s face went red and he sunk further into his hands. He mumbled something in his arms.

       “Why is it embarrassing?” Luz caught what he said as she leaned over him to listen.

       Gus only groaned into his arms.

       “Gus, what did you see?” Willow asked.

       Gus stood and took his food rushing out of the room with a bright red face.

       “At least, go apologize!” Amity shouted after him. “Sort out that you don’t think he’s weak so we can go back to teasing him without feeling like assholes!”

       Hunter watched the commotion still unsure what he was missing. What visions? When was visions a part of anything?

       “Aren’t they usually fighting?” Hunter asked.

       Willow snorted. “No, that’s them just playing around.” 

       “They don’t actually fight a lot. You can tell when they are though, one of them is hurt by something the other did.” Luz shrugged. “They’ll work it out, it’s what they do, they're best friends.”

       “Why are they fighting?” Hunter took a bite of his food.

       “I dunno you were actually there.” Amity pointed out. “Then they came back in the galley and Matt stormed out upset. He said he was defending Gus, did you say something?”

       Oh,

       Oh?

       Did he?

       He just told them he didn’t need help.

       And Matt got mad.

       But Matt was usually mad about something anyway.

       “I don’t think so?” Hunter couldn’t answer confidently. He felt a little guilty if he did cause this, but how those two could consider each other best friends was bizarre to him. Weren’t friends supposed to have fun together? They hung out a lot sure but Gus and Matt always seemed to be teasing the other or challenging each other or complaining about the other.

       “I wonder what he saw.” Willow rested her head on her hand looking back to the door which was closed. 

       “We can rule out anything bad- he said so himself.” Luz shrugged. “So not Matt's death or Gus would be a mess.”

       “He said it was embarrassing.” Amity added.

       “He also can’t talk about it without going red.” Willow added. “I bet it’s something cute.”

       “What do you mean saw?” Hunter asked.

       It was like he said something wrong as the three girls looked at him.

       “Oh right.” Amity sighed out. “I tend to forget it’s not common knowledge.”

       “You were surprised the first time he accidently did it to you.” Luz smirked to Amity and then looked back at Hunter. “Gus has these visions- is what we call them- his eyes go blue and he’ll see things.”

       “You’re making it sound like he’s getting high.” Willow snorted. “He has a decent control on it normally, but when he’s emotional or stressed out it can happen. He’ll see either the past or future of whatever he’s touching.”

       “Yeah, He doesn’t like to do it without permission on purpose so don’t think he’s going to pry.” Amity added. “Gus isn’t like that unless the situation calls for it.”

       “When would the situation call for it?” Hunter scoffed.

       “When there’s a merchant in the brig trying to murder the lookout for even talking to her.” Willow smirked looking at Amity. “He was only trying to find out if she really was ‘abandoned by her mother’ we found out that was a lie.”

       “I was being manipulated!” Amity groaned. “Why do you guys keep bringing it up. Can we move on please.”

       “We only joke because you really gave us a lot of trouble.” Luz smiled. “Besides, we all know you are not really evil or else we wouldn’t have gone back for your siblings.”

       “Can we please drop it though.” Amity whined.

       “Okay. “ Luz put a hand on Amitys. “I’ll stop teasing about that.”

       “Thank you.”

       They both starred at each other for a bit.

       Hunter raised a brow and looked to Willow who was smirked with a know it all smile.

       “You two done?” Hunter sighed.

       Both girls looked to him with large eyes and red cheeks. Amity pulled away from Luz looking like a tomato and Luz gave a sheepish smile.

       “So Gus has visions.” Hunter sighed. “King is a siren. And Hooty iiiis-”

       “Hooty.” Luz stated.

       “Pirates.” Hunter scoffed.

       “Hey, you’re one of us.” Willow elbowed him. “You can’t be using pirates as an insult anymore.”

       “It’s not an insult.” Hunter shrugged. “It's a statement.” 16TH Chapter Tumblr Link

[thetravellingvagrant]

Day 12: In Which I Stare Directly Into The Void For Five And A Half Hours

I was due to leave Granada today, with my bus set to depart at the comfortable time of 2pm. While incredibly relaxed, that did mean that I was sort of left in travel-limbo, with my check-out time of the hostel being 11am and my bags being to heavy and cumbersome to do anything of any substantial worth with what time I had spare. 

I clung to my bed for literally every second I could, that morning, only finally letting it go when the cleaning lady entered the room and I had to pretend I was just about to leave anyway. I then turned my key in and asked if I could sit in the common room for a bit which, thankfully, I was allowed to do. Unthankfully, however, there was someone else in the room when I got there. One other person. One other incredibly quiet person, which meant I could neither relax in solitude nor blend into a loud crowd and vanish like a social chameleon with a slightly shorter tongue. No, it appeared me and my erstwhile roommate were to sit in incredibly awkward silence for the next hour. And so we did. 

Exactly sixty minutes later and not an excruciating, unbearable second longer, I left. That was the exact point at which the other guy in the room chose to leave, also, meaning we both had to silently, awkwardly exit together. Perfect. What a lovely experience. I bet he was getting the same bus as me, too.

I made the fairly simple jaunt across the city via typically over-subscribed tram back to the park in which I ate lunch the first day I was here and…ate lunch again. It’s a really good park, to be fair - or I suppose it’s actually quite a bad park, but it definitely was close to where I had to be and ultimately, isn’t that the true prize?

After another long, nice sit, I went to the bus station to locate my sweaty, cramped chariot to my next destination of Alicante. I checked the departure board and…it wasn’t up there. Nor was the ultimate destination of Barcelona. No bus on that board appeared to match anywhere I was due to go. Confused, I downloaded all three of the, frankly, useless Alsabus apps to see if they had any information. They did not; neither did my ticket. 

With only around twenty minutes left until I was going to be left stranded in - to be fair - quite a nice city I decided to suck it up, as appears to have been my way on this trip and ask at the Alsabus information kiosk, which I approached boldly only for the lady at the desk to see me - physically, actually see me approaching - and pull the shutter down, closing shop for the day. Superb. Looks like I was on my own. 

With no alternative now open to me, I decided to throw myself on the mercy of the bus number, which was one of the three pieces of information I had printed on my ticket. Mine was bus number 1. 

I found bus number 1 and…it was going to Madrid, not Barceona. 

“Maybe it doesn’t say Barcelona because it’s listing the next stop but only the next significant stop, which is Madrid, not Alicante despite them both being huge and also Madrid is in the wrong direction but I presume that means the route just goes through Alicante first and then winds back towards Madrid, before it goes to Barcelona. That makes sense. That is Occham’s razor in action. I am very clever.”

A moment passed

“...No, that’s really fucking stupid.”

I decided, on the off-chance, however, to ask the driver. I approached him and showed him my ticket. 

“Is this for this bus?” I asked in my loudest, clearest English

He looked at the ticket

“Si? Es Uno.” he replied, looking at me like I was a big fucking moron who couldn’t identify the number 1. 

“Oh, gracias” I answered, adding a little Spanish flourish to the conversation to let them know that I was merely inept in their language, rather than willfully uncultured, before putting my luggage in the hold (for free - fuck you, Ryanair) and taking my place in the queue. 

Eventually, I reached the front of what I do have to say, for mainland Europe, was a very neat queue indeed. The driver scanned my ticket and I stepped onto the bus.

“EHH EHH” the ticket-reader screeched, like I had gotten an answer wrong on family fortunes, or perhaps had said something with which Stone Cold Steve Austin had taken umbridge in an otherwise polite conversation. 

The driver looked at his machine. 

“...Alicante?” he asked.

“Si?”

He said something in Spanish which I did not understand, though instinctively knew meant that I was on the wrong-ass bus. I told him I didn’t understand. He repeated it again in Spanish, this time more patronising, like I was the idiot. A passenger behind me translated.

“He is saying platform 20”.

Right. Okay. I quickly grabbed my luggage out of the hold and sprinted (sprant?) to platform 20, where the bus wasn’t - It was at 19, instead - starting to realise why Alsabus has such terrible reviews, as I went.

I stood in the now incredibly short queue for bus 52 - not bus 1, it should be noted - which, as it turned out was the correct one and took my seat literal seconds before the thing pulled out of the station. Incredibly irked at Alsa as I was and in particular that one driver who cost me seven minutes of time I only just barley had at my disposal, waiting in the incorrect queue at his say-so, I was at least on the right bus, which was the longest journey I would have to undertake on this trip and also the most expensive and difficult to reschedule, so ultimately would describe myself as tipping more towards relieved, than furious. Plus I had a window seat and that was lit.

The journey, though weirdly arduous for only a five hour excursion, passed almost entirely without incident. I don’t even think I moved for the entire thing, if I’m being really honest. I wrote blogs and listened to podcasts until around six thirty. I was due to arrive at 7pm and my hostel had sprung on me, a day prior, that their reception only stayed open until 8 and if I arrived after that I’d have to pay a 15 euro surcharge which they did not mention on any of their literature and which I’m fairly sure is mildly illegal to do. Regardless, I was to arrive at 7. So it was fine. 

Until we hit the traffic jam, which set us back by 20 minutes. 

“Okay, it’s only a 20 minute walk to the hostel, that’s fine, I’ll still make it before eight” I reasoned to myself, before I realised that we had also been running behind schedule even before we hit traffic. Rad.

We arrived in the city slightly closer to eight than seven which meant, far from the leisurely stroll to my next accommodation which I had envisaged, I faced, instead, a sweaty, wheezy walk/run/skip through the centre of town, which was good and also ideal. 

Fortunately, though, I once again made it to my destination with literal minutes to spare and, while quite annoyed again, was quickly pacified when two people who were in front of me in the queue to check in were moved aside by the very friendly receptionist to bring me forward because I had a reservation and they didn’t. Good logistics go a long way to calming me down in almost any circumstances. They’re like incense to me. 

And let me tell you, it was a good thing that I got seen to first as the two girls and one guy who stood before me in that queue continued to have a blazing row with the receptionist or possibly just among themselves that I could hear, at least, for the following 25 minutes. Seemingly upset that the hostel was too expensive and that the receptionist wouldn’t allow them to book a single room for three people. 

They were still arguing by the time I left to get dinner on my second lovely cheat day of the trip which I spent going, again, to a nearby Burger King. Everything else in the area as listed on just eat looked absolutely horrible. Sue me.*

*to be fair, the Burger King was also horrible and had been described as “literally the worst Burger King in the world” by no less than three google reviews out of the first five. 

I trudged back through Alicante which did seem sort of horrid - I noted that it felt like Glasgow at 2am on a Saturday, when in reality it was 8:30 on a monday night; christ knows what it would be like at a weekend and I was glad I wasn't going to find out - and eventually re-reached my hostel

The girls and guy of earlier argument fame now stood outside the building a full hour later than they first entered it. One of them was crying profusely and making unintelligible howling noises. Fuck knows what was going on there but it absolutely did match the vibe of the city, so points for that.

Unwilling and unable to help and unhappy at the thought of my milkshake melting, I passed them with a raised eyebrow to acknowledge that I had also passed them earlier - which seemed only polite - and went inside to eat. From my room, as I did, I *think* I heard them come back in and eventually manage to book a room or two for themselves. Possibly. I’m not sure. I had my earphones in and didn’t care, so it could have gone either way, to be honest.

With all the processed gristle and drama I could stomach now nestling in my stomach/psyche and without having had my customary afternoon siesta I decided that I was too exhausted to do anything too substantial and so fucked myself straight to bed, fairly early, and done a big, rubbish, inadequate, disjointed sleep. Luxury. 

[leonbloder]

On The Island of the Apocalypse

In the book of Revelation, at the end of the New Testament, we read these words: 

9 I, John, your brother and companion in the suffering and kingdom and patient endurance that are ours in Jesus, was on the island of Patmos because of the word of God and the testimony of Jesus. 10 On the Lord’s Day I was in the Spirit, and I heard behind me a loud voice like a trumpet, 11 which said: “Write on a scroll what you see and send it to the seven churches: to Ephesus, Smyrna, Pergamum, Thyatira, Sardis, Philadelphia and Laodicea.”

After this beginning, John the Revelator revealed an incredible vision that has confounded scholars and theologians for centuries.  

The book of Revelation has been the source of countless misinterpretations, bad theology, fevered visions of the future, not to mention the foundation of many of the strange ideas and beliefs that many Christians hold about the end of the world. 

John the Revelator's vision happened on the Greek island of Patmos, which is home to the Monastery of St. John the Theologian, founded upon the site where John is believed to have received his vision in a cave.  

I had the chance to revisit the island during my trip to Greece and return to the Monastery.  My visit got me thinking about many things, including all of the studies I've made of John's Revelation. 

To begin with, it's important to know that the very name of the book of Revelation tells us a bit about what it's all about.  The Greek name for the book is the Apocalypse of John, which reveals the kind of writing we're reading off the bat. 

This kind of writing was not meant to be a future prophecy.  It was a revelation of what was happening and what outcomes current events might have in the future. And the fantastical word pictures that we find in Revelation would have been completely understood by the readers. 

It's also up for debate whether The Apostle John wrote the Apocalypse of John. It's been dated as having been written well after 70 AD and the destruction of Jerusalem and the Temple, and could have been written by an elder (or presbyter) who was the overseer of the seven churches mentioned in the text. 

At any rate, there is a vision that occurs in the book's opening lines--a vision that happens on the island of Patmos, where hundreds of thousands of pilgrims visit each year. 

During this last visit to the island, our group joined a huge queue area to visit the grotto or cave where John the Revelator had his vision and where, according to tradition, dictated what he saw to an assistant.  

The wait time was over forty-five minutes to enter the Chora or Cave of the Apocalypse, which was converted into a chapel as part of the Monastery of St. John the Theologian in 1088.  

As I wanted in line with the rest of my group, I reflected on how many people over the centuries have waited to enter the Chora--the curious, the devout, skeptics, tourists from cruise ships, faithful pilgrims, worshippers, and the like.  

And everyone who visits has their own sense of what occurred in that cave and why it's considered a holy site.  

Some believe that some sort of code needs to be cracked in the Revelation to determine the course of history.  Others write it off as a legend or the ravings of an unhinged person suffering hallucinations.  

There are also some (myself included) who don't take the text to be literally true and find in it a warning to followers of Jesus not to assimilate to the excesses of the Empire, whatever form the Empire takes throughout the ages. 

Yet, we all gather on a remote island off the coast of Greece to stand in line for a glimpse at where this book of Revelation was conceived.  

There is something quite beautiful about it, really.  I had to wonder what made a place holy.  Was it what happened there, or was it something else?  What was it about that cave that made us all enter into it hushed into reverent silence after waiting so long for a glimpse of it? 

Could it be that the place is made holy because so many of us gather there, wondering, praying, seeking understanding, longing for answers, or simply wanting to find some connection to the Divine, some glimpse of what comes next for all of us?

Perhaps this is the secret to Revelation, after all.  

Like so many aspects of the Christian faith and tradition, it is a mystery.  It spoke to a particular time but also speaks to all times.  It was for a specific group of first-century Christians, but it was also for all followers of Jesus in all places and times.  

And we find ourselves saying like those Christians of old, "Even now, come quickly, Lord Jesus!"  We long for the world to be made right by the eternal and universal Christ.  And we live as faithfully as we can until then. 

May the grace and peace of our Lord Jesus Christ be with you now and always. Amen. 

[harrison-abbott]

Exploding Pen

 Harrison Abbott

  My pen exploded in my pocket. Right before my exam. I’d had the Biro pen in the jean pocket and when I lifted it out, it was all sticky with navy blue ink.

 Honestly, the exam was in about five minutes and all of the kids were queuing up to go into the gymnasium to sit it. And it was maths, as well. The subject I was worse at. And yet I’d actually been prepared for it pretty well, mentally wise. Before I realised what happened with the pen.

 It was like when you get a cut, as a kid, and the gluey slime of blood astonishes you. Except, it was all blue, all over my fingers. And I panicked.

 The mathematics teacher was standing at the head of the line. She was this eternally cross woman called Mrs Atkinson who had a bitter love for numbers (with an occasional tendency to erupt at the children if they spoiled her mood). This woman was my immediate hope. And when I went up to her her eyelids narrowed.

 I showed her the pen.

 “I’m in a bit of trouble,” I murmured to her. The kids were watching me. “I don’t have another pen.”

 “Why don’t you have another pen?” Atkinson responded.

 “I don’t know.”

 “That’s not very good preparation, is it.”

 “Eh … no.”

 “Why did you break the pen?”

 “I didn’t. It just … broke in my pocket.”

 “That’s a lie.”

 “It’s not. I only need a new pen. Is all.”

 Her lips were shrivelled up and the frizzly hair seemed more electrocuted than ever. I didn’t understand why I had offended her. Then she cut past me, without a word. And disappeared down the corridor. So I didn’t quite know what this meant. Did she just abandon me? How was I supposed to sit the exam without a –

 But then one of the boys from the queue came up to me.

 “You need a new pen?” he said. (He was one of the quiet boys from the other classes. I’d never met him before. He had a nice nose.)

 “Yes, please, I really need one. Please.”

 He gave me a pen. I used to do baton races earlier in school. Relay races, I mean. Because I was quite fast, for a girl; and they’d do these sprint tests in school and I usually finished in the top three or so.

 The sports teacher would take us down to this old stadium in the city and we’d meet up with these five hundred or so other schoolkids. And bolt around the sunset-coloured racetrack. And I would wait and wait for the other girl to run up and hand me the baton – and it all happened in milliseconds, and then I’d have to sprint on and give it to the last girl ahead of me.

 And, we never won anything. Our little team. We always got beat because the other teams were faster. Shrug.

 But, anyway: when this kind boy handed me the pen as a gift, it reminded me of all of that.

 I thanked him six times and then he walked away from me because my gratitude was embarrassing.

 So, I had a pen. Good good.

 And then the invigilator came out of the gymnasium. Opened the doors, rather – and when he did this great light came from within it as if from a room full of blazing gold.

 Okay. I needed to pass this mathematics exam, now. Algebra and Long Division and … umm, I’d always been terrified of numbers in general. Even with things like money and handling change at the supermarket, I was just slow, and it made me feel stupid. And I needed to pass this test in order to get to university next year.

 This mass of people (with myself included) sat down in the gym hall. It was hot, by the way. Super hot. This was in late May and the climate was on its way to disaster: and the invigilators had opened the FIRE EXIT doors at the back of the hall. Instead of bringing in any coolness, they’d brought in the flies.

 And when I looked upwards as I’d sat down and there was this exam paper in front of me, there were all of these flies zipping about in confused circles. I knew that they were all going to die, today. Later on this afternoon. Through suffocation, or dehydration, or however it is that flies die. And I just felt bad for them and wanted to let them back out of the gym so that they might live a bit longer in the worldly air.

 The clock on the wall reached the hour mark. And then the invigilator told us, announced, in a booming voice, that we were allowed to start our papers. And this great scrambling of papery sounds rushed across the room.

 You must’ve taken tests before?

 It would be far easier to do it – to tackle your paper/test – if you were on your own. Rather than have your peripheral vision have all of these other kids tackling it at the same time. Because you can see them in the corner of your eyes, pumping down the answers. Where as, you are tardy and not as fast as them. And it makes you feel like you’re failing already, ninety seconds into the event.

 And this feeling lasted for about half an hour. These mad digits that I had to solve. My fingers, by the way, were still gooey with the dead pen from earlier. And whilst I had this new pen, I was afraid that it might, too, and ejaculate all over my exam paper, the ink ruining the pages. Honestly – all throughout the test I had this image of this slapstick flooding of the pages – and I thought ‘Am I holding this pen too tight? It might spurt … It could burst’.

 The worst thing of the entire affair was that I didn’t finish the test.

 It was an hour long. But I missed the last five or six questions. So I thought, when the invigilator chap called the time, told us all to stop, that I’d totally fucked it. That I was doomed.

 I closed up my paper.

 And after the bell had gone, all the kids started chirping again. Chatty sense of relief.

 I looked around for that boy who had gifted me the pen. Wanted to give it back to him. But couldn’t pick him out.

 So when I headed out of the gym hall I had technically stolen his pen, and I felt bad.

 I went down to the bus stop. And got on the bus when it came and sat on the top flight with the strong sunshine throbbing through the windows. As the rays gleamed on me I had this accurate dread that I wasn’t going to get into university.

 And it just made me feel like a sap, a weed, a loser, whatever noun you’d like to use.

 There were other kids on the bus seats, too, who were all buzzing and springing about. It’s odd when you’re in a public situation when you have this personal problem and you can’t talk to anybody else about the issue, because they’re in a happy mood, and, if you went up to them, as a stranger, they wouldn’t be interested in your story or even care much if you explained it, because it isn’t happening to them … not their dilemma.

 I got off the bus. And walked home.

 My house was in the suburbs. I passed the post office and the newsagent and the barber and they were all merry in the sunlight. And I turned left down the street which passed the rows of houses.

 There was Emma’s old house. The girl I used to play with when I was a kid. Used to play dolls with her in her house. She had this amazing doll’s house that I really coveted. And then one time after I’d played with her, she never asked me back again. I don’t think her parents liked me. She moved away a year afterwards and I never saw her since, and now there was some grey haired chap living there.

And a few houses down there was the house of the family of the boy that’d killed himself in the woods. The woodland at the end of the street, which was walled off from dogwalkers. He’d gone in there and hanged himself at the age of 18.

 I didn’t know him so well but I remembered him. And it’s weird how you remember somebody after a brutal fact like that, rather than appreciate them when they’re still alive.

 Was I going to fail my maths exam? Yes. Probably.

 It was the fault of that stupid pen. No. It was my fault. I should’ve been more careful.

 But, nobody’s invented a time machine, yet. Can’t zoom back in history and make changes. I’ve always wanted to do that; go back into the past and say things differently, do things another way. When somebody mocked you: you could’ve said a snazzy comeback. Or when somebody smacked you, you might’ve hit them back. These are silly imaginations. Reality is not like fiction. Which is why we love fiction so much.

 I got into the house. Nobody was home.

 My mother was going to ask me how my exam went when she got home. I couldn’t exactly tell her that I thought I’d failed it all. Had no clue what to say.

 So I opened the fridge instead and took out a carton of orange juice, poured a glass of that and drank it and the vitamin c went right to my head.

 I went upstairs and took off my socks, T shirt and bra and I lay in my bed. It was too hot to put the covers over me so I lay there half naked. And tried not to think of anything. Tried not to worry about the future.

 If you ever find out a way to achieve that, please let me know.

[harkath]

Charybdis, 1.01

Just me, my heartbeat, and all the tiny awful noises a body can make in a hardsuit. No sound from the suit monitors. Whole hallway in vacuum. Something sheared through the bulkhead on my left, jagged metal trailing out into the void. I trudge along. My body compensates for the delayed step clamp unclamp step shuffle of the mag boots with long practice. Barely feel it anymore, like walking with snowshoes back on Earth. So I’ve heard.

Constant scroll of information down the right edge of my visor. Gleaned from suit sensors and Prose’s intrusion efforts. The company had given us keys to all systems, but wouldn’t you know, they’re a bit outdated? 

Prose requests new codes by ansible, but even if that queue gets checked, approval and download would take longer than just cracking the thing. 

“Captain,” Prose chimes over our link. No urgency, but that never meant anything. What an emergent found immediately life threatening against what your average human did could be a vast gulf. It’s not like anyone knew.

“What’s up, Prose?” I try not to start when it writes itself into my visual field, its avatar walking unprotected near the shorn edge of the bulkhead. As ever, its features are indistinct and ever-shifting.

“Intrusion complete,” it says. As we reach the end of the tear, towards the lock that would lead to the front half of the ship- still pressured, apparently- I get a glimpse of my ship: Ambrose Systems Loss Prevention Unit PRZ-1, keeps pace with the drifting derelict I’m on. The closest thing Prose has to a body. 

I can’t feel Prose using my eyes to look at itself, but I feel it just the same. I wonder when Prose’s last tuning was. Uncharitable. It’s been good to me. For years. Still is, as its avatar lays one hand on the airlock lever, whispers a quick warning. I nod, wait till it removes it’s hand (humans and emergents share the preference of having their avatar-projections respected, realspace or no), then tug open the lock. Inside the compartment, a splash of blood and something else I ignore as my suit identifies. I close myself in, Prose disappears with a lazy salute. Danger on the other side. No distractions. Great. I brace myself as the lock cycles. We had dropped out of the grid a little shy of Neptune’s gate, when Prose’s gravity scan pinged the right signature. An hour for realspace maneuvers to get us in line, three decelerating. Shedding gridspeed and matching trajectories with the target. 

The derelict- the cargo ship. Prose wasn’t too fond of me calling them derelicts before we examined them. Called it a maladaptive coping mechanism. Offered several convincing and therapeutic arguments. I managed to bite my tongue. 

Accusing a ship of being emotional about cargo ships and haulers would just make me look stupid, anyway.

We got in close enough for me to hop over in the hardsuit. A.S. standard hauler, cargo scanned for ice and mineral rich rock, several bays empty. Nothing out of the ordinary there. The odd bit, was that the back half of the ship had apparently suffered explosive decompression. Everything not nailed, magged, or grabbed down was long gone. On its way to, well, probably Neptune, right? No distress beacons from hardsuits left adrift. Sat for an hour while Prose did extra life scans in the area anyway. A suit can keep you alive in the void for a long time. Bad way to go. I’d worked up a suspicion, pacing up and down the hall while Prose did scans and intrusions. Examined that sheared off bulkhead. The bits of Prose’s report I could parse more or less confirmed it. I winked at the report scrolling along my visor, and it faded from sight. 

Brought myself back to the here and now. Set my suit’s camo option to mirror-reflective.

The thing about lasers is, the word isn’t really accurate to popular culture anymore. Not for weaponry. Yes, it’s a directed light beam, but there’s other stuff in there. Ask R&D what. Pay grades. Most of it still bounces off a mirrored surface though. The rest just pisses off the safety protocols on a sufficiently well-made hardsuit. And its wearer. By the time the glare fades, the interior lock swings all the way open. I smack my tongue against the metallic taste in my mouth. The “other stuff” that the suit doesn’t reflect isn’t supposed to have lasting effects. I have my suspicions. I raise my hands in the ancient, universal symbol for stop waving that thing around like a jackass. He does.

I stand angled so he can’t see the glass-blower on my hip, but I think he can tell he’s outmatched. Sitting in the captain’s chair, he stands out for three reasons. One, he’s wearing more trauma kit supplies than clothes, trying to hold himself together. Two, obviously, he’d just let off a full charge of laser fire at me. Not so much as a “halt!” or “state your business!” Rude. Three? He isn’t the captain. Prose inserts the man’s name into my field of vision, just left of his head. Several helpful tidbits about his history to the right. A note that he’s not in his “usual physical or mental capacity.” No kidding, Prose? Just in case some of the post-hypnotic briefing hadn’t taken, I guess. Does Prose know about that? Reckon the company only tells its ships what it needs to, same as flesh employees. James. Big James to his family and friends, out around Canopy Five. Not long for this world without real treatment, trauma kit or no. 

“Hey,” I said. De-escalate. Familiarize. No hardsuit for him, earth-standard atmosphere. My visor and helmet split, fold insectile into the back of my suit. Camo fades to its usual neutral off-grey. There’s a setting for a supposedly calming “sky blue,” but I’ve never seen a blue sky and I wager James here hasn’t either. “Jahen Krell, search and rescue.” We use assumed names for each op. Insurance thing, apparently. Search and Rescue is a happy euphemism for Loss Prevention, although the overlap is there. “James,” he says, wheezing back into the command chair. “Big James, if you got some booze on you.” Blood trickles from the corners of his mouth when he speaks and I wish I did. His hand never leaves the rifle, and I try not to count the seconds before it hits full charge. “I’m afraid not, man, but I might do you one better.” Misdirection, extortion. I start feeling bad about here. Always do. “I’ve got two regen-swarms on me. Full repair suite on my ship. How’s about you tell me what happened, and we see about getting you patched up?” Blackmail sequencing. Your life, information. He’s too far out to notice. It’s not like I’d let him bleed out. Would Prose? “Cargo cult,” he croaks out. Prose feeds me the definition, some ancient loan-phrase describing cascade failures, exploited deification of invaders of higher technological level? Dying old man speaking nonsense. I jab him in the arm with the hypodermic, let the first swarm get to work. That’s against protocol. Questions first, then reward. So fire me. “What happened here, James?” “Blew the shielding,” he manages. More blood. The trauma kit starts working and that rush of short-strand adrenaline keeps him talking, some. “Crew quarters and engine alerts. Sheared bulkheads out from the bay.” Shuddering now. Big James is one of the engineers. Maybe the last one. His assessment matches ours. Something hit the ship, from the inside, maybe, blew a hole that tore the back half of the bastard apart, engines fully gone, cargo bay cracked like an egg. Crew quarters, same. He must have been off-shift when it happened, maybe in the galley? Somewhere front-of-ship, Which gives us a timeframe. “Okay,” I say. “Who blew the bulkheads?” I can’t ask the question I want to ask. He doesn’t know I know to ask. Prose, in synch with me as ever, and impatient with my methods, inserts a thankfully-censored thumbnail into my visual field. I know, Prose. “Is this the only place with atmosphere? Any survivors?” Who put the neat holes in the foreheads of the navigator and the captain? Out of my view, down in the crew pit. Blood and worse. Prose’s stolen eyes caught it on the way in. Made it part of the briefing. “Engineering?” James says, in the desperate tones of a sole survivor. He’d seen some things he’d be seeing for the rest of his life. I don’t tell him that we could see the ship’s spine, what was left of it, from ten clicks out. Why bother. “Cargo?” In denial, maybe. He’s an engineer with a good idea of how fucked the ship is. He wants the numbers to match emotion. Me too, James.

I hit him with the second swarm, and the soporifics in the thing finally overwhelm him while the bots get to work. Better that way. I’ve gone under repairs like these conscious. I don’t recommend it.

He mutters something else, some other strand of nonsense as he goes down. I gently reach over and take the rifle from him. I realize the question I forgot to ask, set the laser rifle down, and unsling my own glass-thrower. Shift the comfortable weight of the gun in my hand.

“Send a drone down, Prose. Patch him up, alright?” James didn’t do this. Call it instinct. Training.

By way of answer, one of Prose’s dog-sized, beetle shaped drone floats into view, reaching mantis-limbs towards James’ sleeping form.

Constant scroll of information down the right edge of my visor. Gleaned from suit sensors and Prose’s intrusion efforts. The company had given us keys to all systems, but wouldn’t you know, they’re a bit outdated? 

Prose requests new codes by ansible, but even if that queue gets checked, approval and download would take longer than just cracking the thing. 

“Captain,” Prose chimes over our link. No urgency, but that never meant anything. What an emergent found immediately life threatening against what your average human did could be a vast gulf. It’s not like anyone knew.

“What’s up, Prose?” I try not to start when it writes itself into my visual field, its avatar walking unprotected near the shorn edge of the bulkhead. As ever, its features are indistinct and ever-shifting.

“Intrusion complete,” it says. As we reach the end of the tear, towards the lock that would lead to the front half of the ship- still pressured, apparently- I get a glimpse of my ship: Ambrose Systems Loss Prevention Unit PRZ-1, keeps pace with the drifting derelict I’m on. The closest thing Prose has to a body. 

I can’t feel Prose using my eyes to look at itself, but I feel it just the same. I wonder when Prose’s last tuning was. Uncharitable. It’s been good to me. For years. Still is, as its avatar lays one hand on the airlock lever, whispers a quick warning. I nod, wait till it removes it’s hand (humans and emergents share the preference of having their avatar-projections respected, realspace or no), then tug open the lock. Inside the compartment, a splash of blood and something else I ignore as my suit identifies. I close myself in, Prose disappears with a lazy salute. Danger on the other side. No distractions. Great. I brace myself as the lock cycles. We had dropped out of the grid a little shy of Neptune’s gate, when Prose’s gravity scan pinged the right signature. An hour for realspace maneuvers to get us in line, three decelerating. Shedding gridspeed and matching trajectories with the target. 

The derelict- the cargo ship. Prose wasn’t too fond of me calling them derelicts before we examined them. Called it a maladaptive coping mechanism. Offered several convincing and therapeutic arguments. I managed to bite my tongue. 

Accusing a ship of being emotional about cargo ships and haulers would just make me look stupid, anyway.

We got in close enough for me to hop over in the hardsuit. A.S. standard hauler, cargo scanned for ice and mineral rich rock, several bays empty. Nothing out of the ordinary there. The odd bit, was that the back half of the ship had apparently suffered explosive decompression. Everything not nailed, magged, or grabbed down was long gone. On its way to, well, probably Neptune, right? No distress beacons from hardsuits left adrift. Sat for an hour while Prose did extra life scans in the area anyway. A suit can keep you alive in the void for a long time. Bad way to go. I’d worked up a suspicion, pacing up and down the hall while Prose did scans and intrusions. Examined that sheared off bulkhead. The bits of Prose’s report I could parse more or less confirmed it. I winked at the report scrolling along my visor, and it faded from sight. 

Brought myself back to the here and now. Set my suit’s camo option to mirror-reflective.

The thing about lasers is, the word isn’t really accurate to popular culture anymore. Not for weaponry. Yes, it’s a directed light beam, but there’s other stuff in there. Ask R&D what. Pay grades. Most of it still bounces off a mirrored surface though. The rest just pisses off the safety protocols on a sufficiently well-made hardsuit. And its wearer. By the time the glare fades, the interior lock swings all the way open. I smack my tongue against the metallic taste in my mouth. The “other stuff” that the suit doesn’t reflect isn’t supposed to have lasting effects. I have my suspicions. I raise my hands in the ancient, universal symbol for stop waving that thing around like a jackass. He does.

I stand angled so he can’t see the glass-blower on my hip, but I think he can tell he’s outmatched. Sitting in the captain’s chair, he stands out for three reasons. One, he’s wearing more trauma kit supplies than clothes, trying to hold himself together. Two, obviously, he’d just let off a full charge of laser fire at me. Not so much as a “halt!” or “state your business!” Rude. Three? He isn’t the captain. Prose inserts the man’s name into my field of vision, just left of his head. Several helpful tidbits about his history to the right. A note that he’s not in his “usual physical or mental capacity.” No kidding, Prose? Just in case some of the post-hypnotic briefing hadn’t taken, I guess. Does Prose know about that? Reckon the company only tells its ships what it needs to, same as flesh employees. James. Big James to his family and friends, out around Canopy Five. Not long for this world without real treatment, trauma kit or no. 

“Hey,” I said. De-escalate. Familiarize. No hardsuit for him, earth-standard atmosphere. My visor and helmet split, fold insectile into the back of my suit. Camo fades to its usual neutral off-grey. There’s a setting for a supposedly calming “sky blue,” but I’ve never seen a blue sky and I wager James here hasn’t either. “Jahen Krell, search and rescue.” We use assumed names for each op. Insurance thing, apparently. Search and Rescue is a happy euphemism for Loss Prevention, although the overlap is there. “James,” he says, wheezing back into the command chair. “Big James, if you got some booze on you.” Blood trickles from the corners of his mouth when he speaks and I wish I did. His hand never leaves the rifle, and I try not to count the seconds before it hits full charge. “I’m afraid not, man, but I might do you one better.” Misdirection, extortion. I start feeling bad about here. Always do. “I’ve got two regen-swarms on me. Full repair suite on my ship. How’s about you tell me what happened, and we see about getting you patched up?” Blackmail sequencing. Your life, information. He’s too far out to notice. It’s not like I’d let him bleed out. Would Prose? “Cargo cult,” he croaks out. Prose feeds me the definition, some ancient loan-phrase describing cascade failures, exploited deification of invaders of higher technological level? Dying old man speaking nonsense. I jab him in the arm with the hypodermic, let the first swarm get to work. That’s against protocol. Questions first, then reward. So fire me. “What happened here, James?” “Blew the shielding,” he manages. More blood. The trauma kit starts working and that rush of short-strand adrenaline keeps him talking, some. “Crew quarters and engine alerts. Sheared bulkheads out from the bay.” Shuddering now. Big James is one of the engineers. Maybe the last one. His assessment matches ours. Something hit the ship, from the inside, maybe, blew a hole that tore the back half of the bastard apart, engines fully gone, cargo bay cracked like an egg. Crew quarters, same. He must have been off-shift when it happened, maybe in the galley? Somewhere front-of-ship, Which gives us a timeframe. “Okay,” I say. “Who blew the bulkheads?” I can’t ask the question I want to ask. He doesn’t know I know to ask. Prose, in synch with me as ever, and impatient with my methods, inserts a thankfully-censored thumbnail into my visual field. I know, Prose. “Is this the only place with atmosphere? Any survivors?” Who put the neat holes in the foreheads of the navigator and the captain? Out of my view, down in the crew pit. Blood and worse. Prose’s stolen eyes caught it on the way in. Made it part of the briefing. “Engineering?” James says, in the desperate tones of a sole survivor. He’d seen some things he’d be seeing for the rest of his life. I don’t tell him that we could see the ship’s spine, what was left of it, from ten clicks out. Why bother. “Cargo?” In denial, maybe. He’s an engineer with a good idea of how fucked the ship is. He wants the numbers to match emotion. Me too, James.

I hit him with the second swarm, and the soporifics in the thing finally overwhelm him while the bots get to work. Better that way. I’ve gone under repairs like these conscious. I don’t recommend it.

He mutters something else, some other strand of nonsense as he goes down. I gently reach over and take the rifle from him. I realize the question I forgot to ask, set the laser rifle down, and unsling my own glass-thrower. Shift the comfortable weight of the gun in my hand.

“Send a drone down, Prose. Patch him up, alright?” James didn’t do this. Call it instinct. Training.

By way of answer, one of Prose’s dog-sized, beetle shaped drone floats into view, reaching mantis-limbs towards James’ sleeping form.

[thessalian]

Thess vs Hurdles and Challenges

Wow. Sometimes the world goes to lengths to give me a break. Though honestly, it's kind of backfiring because apparently the world doesn't know me very well.

See, I was debating calling out today. It was nearly 5am before I got any sleep because the stress and worry and ... well, everything ... caused pain flare and migraine. I woke up before my alarm, feeling a little bit better overall, but still kind of crap. Still, I know that we're struggling a little at work and I'm off all next week so I decided to take painkillers about it and carry on.

Apparently the Small God of IT had other ideas, because there is currently a hiccup with our patient records system and it's not letting me log in. I've spoken to IT and this is not a me-problem; this is an IT problem and while they are working on it, they have no idea when it's getting fixed. Though I have to say, IT was a little stunned when I got on the phone to them and they started the, "Have you refreshed the browser?" thing and I went, "Refreshed the browser, restarted the browser, cleared the cache, restarted the entire computer, everything. Nothing worked". I get why they had to go through all that, but I kind of wish they'd looked at their notes before running me through the "A statistically significant percentage of end users are ignorant of anything beyond 'press button to do thing'" spiel. We could have skipped a whole part of the interaction that way.

Anyway, so I'm sitting here, wiggling my work mouse every so often and keeping an eye on my email client, and honestly getting shit all done. I could check the typing queue, at least, and that honestly isn't too bad right now ... though it's about to get worse because Goblin's going out to an appointment and may or may not be back today. (I hope she's okay.) The thing I said about the world not knowing me very well is ... well. I could probably take it easier, not worry so much about immediately knowing when I can get to work, maybe even say, "Maybe this is for the best because I feel horrible and could use a sick day" ... but I can't stand being forced to not do things. I get nervous when IT things are going wrong, because what if it's a huge problem that won't get fixed for days? I need to know when it's fixed, so I'm going to keep trying. Plus, if I'm honest, I am an ornery so-and-so and I only get more determined when faced with a set of hurdles between myself and a task - whether I need to do it or I just want to, I want to know I can.

On that subject, Veilguard. I woke up nearly an hour before my alarm, which means I'm running on maybe four and a half hours' sleep right now. But I figured since I was up, I'd check in on Veilguard. Now, it would have been nice if someone had warned me how long it takes to configure shader settings, but never mind - my early wake-up meant I still had some time to poke at things. From the looks of things, I can play it, at least in early stages. I might want to look at whatever invincibility mode the thing has, and will be careful to not stand near any cliffs just in case, but I've been making it through the prologue without too much issue. It helps that this isn't my "real" playthrough yet, mostly because between compiling shaders and figuring out the character creation thing, I didn't get that much time to actually play. On short acquaintance, though, I think the issue is mostly the visual noise, so to speak. So much is happening on the screen that it's hard to know what you're supposed to be focused on at any give moment. I'll probably get used to it. I'm not going to be seeking a refund, anyway - which is good because I barely have time to do so. If games are going to spend over half an hour configuring shader settings at launch, Steam needs to be more generous with its return policies.

So ... yeah. Today's been me dealing with the hurdles technology sets. Not entirely winning, but coping. I'll have another try at restarting my work browser just to see, and then find something to do. I mean, maybe I could even get through the Veilguard prologue on this practice character. (I don't even remember what I named them; that's how tired I am.)

[honeyabyss]

Mc falling asleep next to them

Lucifer:

he had been working nonstop for hours now and the pile of yet to be read and signed documents wasn't getting any smaller

you had been sitting in his study silently working on your own assignments, that was until you've finished them about an hour ago

pacing his room in boredom and looking at the stuff he keeps in his closets (mostly books, records and demonus)

"Could you stop wandering around, you're irritating me!" Lucifer is stressed, annoyed, etc and your sighs, constant footsteps and opening and closing of closet doors, didn't help him to concentrate

you could have left the room and found something else to do, but you were determined to spend some time with him, as the evening work hours are quite literally the only hours where you can be alone with him

so instead you seeked permission for putting on a record to have at least some entertainment, which was both a good and a bad choice at the same time

yes you had something to enjoy and relax to, but the relaxing part worked a little bit too well

after a good ten minutes you were sleeping peacefully, stretched out all over his sofa with no care in the world

"I'm going to take a small break and get some coffee. Do you want something as well?" Lucifer asked only to be met with silence, which he didn't appreciate

he was about scold you for being rude, when his gaze fell on your sleeping form and the words seemed stuck in his throat

how could you sleep so peacefully right next to one of the strongest demons of hell, he honestly didn't know if he was pleased you found comfort in his presence or if he should be annoyed that you don't take him serious enough

nonetheless you seemed to have a good sleep and as this is often near impossible in the House of Lamentation, he decided to let you sleep

he got himself his coffee and once back in his study he moved his workplace to the small coffee table and took a seat next to you on the sofa

he adjusted your form so you weren't hanging half of the edge and put his coat over your sleeping form for some warmth

"Foolish little lamb, letting your guard down in a house of wolves, good thing I'm here to protect you..."

Mammon:

"And then I, the Great Mammon, made an action movie worthy escape and totally didn't run away in a panic, because Lucifer was chasing me..."

he had been telling you how exactly he got into the situation of hanging from the ceiling once again, as you've tried as careful as possible to cut him free, which was harder then expected with the way he kept moving around

once finally free, he dropped onto the ground, whining about the rope burns he got basically all over his body, though demons heal quicker, it still wasn't a nice feeling

with a sigh you offered him your hand and pulled him up and away to your room to give him some of the salve Satan had made you the last time you had accidentally cut yourself while cooking

you sat a flustered Mammon onto your bed while you went ahead and searched through your bathroom cabinets that were filled with products Asmo had gifted you, when you finally found it you asked Mammon to hold still while you put some salve onto his burned skin

"W-what?! N-no way! I don't need your help, I can do that on my own!" and with that Mammon stormed away with your salve and locked himself into your bathroom

you knew better then to argue at this point, Mammon would do what Mammon wants to do...until he fails and seeks protection behind your back...

be it because he is embarrassed, doesn't know how to open the salve tube, or because there were so many rope burns...but Mammon took quite long to apply the crème, leaving you to wait for him for at least half an hour now

helping out Mammon can become quite tiring, not that you mind helping him or don't like being around him, but a nap sounds nice right now

and so you lay down in your bed, it is after all your room, and just because Mammon is currently camping out in your bathroom, doesn't mean that you can't take a nap

Mammon comes out of the bathroom a few minutes later, he probably needed a few more minutes to build up courage to face and thank you, but he is met with the sight of you sleeping on your bed

Mammons brain is working overdrive, trying to figure out if he should leave the room quietly, wake you up or stay and watch over you...then again he doesn't want to be seen as a creep by you, but he can't deny that he would like to stay with you

he carefully climbs into bed and pushes you a bit further in so you sleep on the wall side and don't fall off in case you move, it takes five more minutes until Mammon risks putting his arm around you all while holding his breath in anticipation of your rejection, when none comes he settles a little closer to you and falls asleep as well

"Don't worry my human, the Great Mammon is gonna keep you warm and protected in your sleep!"

Bonus: even though you two fall asleep next to each other with only Mammons arm wrapped around you, expect him to wake up on top of you holding you like your his pillow

Leviathan:

it was 5am and Levi and you were currently waiting in line in front of a shop to get your hands on a new limited edition Ruri-Chan figurine

surprisingly enough even though you turned up quite early, there were a good amount of people in front of you

the shop would only open a 9am so you still had a long time to queue in the coldness of the devildom morning

"Ah that is not fair! We planned everything so carefully, it was the perfect timing, why aren't we first in line?" Levi complained while standing on his tiptoes to be able to see and count the demons in front of him, coming to the conclusion that if everyone were to buy one figurine he'd still be able to buy one for himself...and whatever you might want

you weren't the happiest when he told you about his plan a few weeks prior and getting woken up this early you might have been a little slower than usual in getting yourself ready, now that you were here you couldn't help but feel a little guilty

you tried to cheer Levi up with the argument that if you were longer in line that also meant you could spend more time together, which resulted in Levi turning into a blushing but happy mess

you put down the blanket you've brought and made yourself comfortable on it, Levi joining you but looking a bit stiff from the closeness

you ate a breakfast consisting out of sandwiches made with whatever was left after Beels midnight snack, which wasn't much but better than nothing

afterwards as there was still a lot of time to pass you started to play some games on his Switch, trying to stay awake

the emphasis lies on 'trying', because after 2 hours or so you start to fall asleep, eyelids and limbs heavy, you don't have the energy left in you to fight the sleep and so you nod off, your head falling onto Levis shoulder who had been inching closer over the period of time...to be able to better see the Switch display not to be closer to you...

Levi.exe has stopped working

there he sits red as a tomato with Mc sleeping on his shoulder, the queue in front of him starts to pack up and move as the shop gets ready to open up, his Switch display is showing the game over screen, his mind feels fogged over and he has no idea how to react now

Mc just fell asleep and Levi feels guilty to wake them...but they have to move...

"H-hey Mc? T-the line i-is moving? Wake up....please..." his attempts are way to quiet for you to hear and even as he gently shakes your shoulder you do not wake, leaving Levi quiet in a dilemma

"N-no other choice..." he says as he packs up the stuff alone, leaving only you sitting on the cold floor...he can't just leave you here..

Levi turns into his demon form, his hands shaking and eyes flitting across your from and over the crowd of other demons, before he carefully lifts you into his arm, his tail wrapping around you as well for more stabilization, so he has one hand free to carry his shopping bag later

he never bought something faster than that day, he got his figurine and even bought you some anime merch he knew you had stated to like, all while feeling like he was running the worst fever of his life and receiving stares, giggles and smug smiles from way too may people, that was enough attention for at least a century for Levi...but he did like holding you in his arms

"This is not fair! I have to deal with all the embarrassment while you sleep...but I guess it's okay if it's for you..."

Satan:

Satans last anger fit had caused way more damage than usually, it had taken place in the library when Mammon had tried to steal a very rare book about spells, to sell it after he found out how rare it actually is...now that lead to Satan throwing down and emptying almost all bookshelves and kicking Mammon through the room

While Mammon was strung upside down from the ceiling, Satan was forced to clean up the library alone, but you had pity on him as there were quite a lot to clean up, if Lucifer doesn't find out you helped there will be no consequences

Satans opinion about you helping was split, first of all he was really thankful for the help even though he was at fault for the chaos, having to clean up all alone was a bit much, but on second thought Satan was worried that you tried to go against Lucifers orders, he's proud of you for defying his eldest brother but also feels like it's a stupid idea

but you have made your mind up and so while Satan repairs and stands up the shelves, you begin to put the books in, you might not know the exact way they stood like Satan, but for now getting them off the floor is the priority

there aren't many words spoken as you silently work away, only once in a while you point out a book which got a bit more damage, the cover hanging off loosely or a few pages ripped out, you two decide depending on the damage if it can be fixed or not

every now and then Satan asks you to hold a piece of a shelf together while he fixes it, he is surprisingly fast and knows exactly how to repair it...just as if he had to do it more than once in a while...

"Oh Mc? Can you give me the screwdriver? No no that one, the one with the cross head is what I need..." you had no idea there were so many different tools, and wouldn't be the slotted one sufficient if you just angled it right? Satan just laughs and let's you try it for yourself, only for you to fail, he then shows you how to do it correctly guiding you through fixing your first shelf

"The last shelf is standing again, I'll help you with the book now." Satan pointed out, a small ray of hope now that only the books were left, you didn't reply, which honestly wasn't really necessary, but a small affirming noise would have been nice, so Satan tries to keep the 'conversation' going, while he works on the books with his back turned to you

"...you're still ignoring me? Are you angry at me for making such a mess? You know you didn't have to help...you can go, no need to act like all high and mighty!" he was getting angry again, yes he did make a mess, but he didn't do anything to you! Had he? He couldn't remember, but humans might interpret actions and words differently…he didn't want you to be mad at him, and neither did he want to get angry at you, but with you ignoring him it became quite difficult to keep his voice low

having enough and wanting to make up before it gets worse, he makes his way over to you, who was leaning against a shelf with a book in your hand

as he sits down next to you and turns your body to him through a guiding hand on your shoulder, he startles, you fell asleep in a sitting position? That sounds more like something Belphie would do...Isn't that uncomfortable?

You must have been exhausted after filling up three shelves of books and fell asleep midway on your fourth shelf, Satan chuckles amused and relieved you aren't mad at him but simply sleeping

He picks you up and brings you to your room where he lies you down in your bed, covering you with the blanket and hesitantly stroking your hair before going back to cleaning up the library

"Thank you for being so patient with me and helping me! You can rest now and I'll make it up to you later!"

Bonus: he will most definitely take you out on a date of your choice, even if he doesn't enjoy the idea as much as you

Asmodeus:

Asmo had taken you out shopping, as he claimed his wardrobe was not having the right clothes anymore so he had to get new ones fast

he had dragged you through town for the whole day and you two only returned home late in the afternoon, you completely exhausted and ready to drop in your bed, while Asmo while being slightly tired, still insisted on putting on all the clothes and showing them off to you and his followers on Devilgram

he entrusted you with his D.D.D to take some nice amazing shots of him to gain even more followers, though that seemed impossible as it already felt as if the whole population of hell was already subscribed to his account

but as long as all you had to do was hold the D.D.D up and click the screen for a picture, you were fine, you sat down on Asmos bed trying not to disturb the bags of clothes that lay there as well

Asmos screen lit up nearly every few seconds with a new message, how did this man not get crazy with all the message?! And he must check them all, because whenever you write him, he is on and writing back instantly...maybe you should steal his D.D.D from time to time to get him away from it...

While Asmo was changing into new clothes in the bathroom, you could hear him humming a happy tune, clearly in his element and enjoying his time, which made you happy as well, but the exhaustion was still plaguing you and the bed felt unbelievably comfy and on top of that the humming of Asmo was slowly lulling you into sleep

"Oooh Mc~ I especially like this top! Just look how nicely it fits, it shows of my best parts, which are all of me haha...hey Mc?~ Look at me!" Asmo pouted as you stayed put on his bed, and climbed over your form, already expecting you to start pushing him off, only to get concerned when you don't

then he sees your eyes are closed and you seem to be peacefully asleep, he instantly coos at your sweet sleeping expression, the back of his hand caresses you cheeks softly, but you don't react much besides moving a bit into am ore comfy position

Asmo backs off and begins to put down his bags, then he tucks you under his covers and climbs right in with you, pulling you close so that you lie on his chest, his arms encircling you to keep you put

the pictures for Devilgram are forgotten for now, they're not running away anyway, you two can continue another time, but for a beauty nap sounds good

"Oh Mc! You look so cute when you're sleeping...next time tell me you need a break, I'm happy to cuddle you while you're recovering!"

Beelzebub:

you had decided to stay a bit longer at RAD today, because you still had something to discuss with one of the teacher, as well as doing some research for an essay that was due next week

most of the brothers had already left for home or different work related activities, except Beel who had Fangol practice today after school, and as you were not allowed to walk around the Devildom without someone accompanying you for protection, all that was left for you was to wait for Beel to finish his practice, which usually took place for about two hours

you sat down on one of the benches at the side of the field, waving to Beel so he knew you where you were and could keep an eye on you

you worked away on your homework and checked you D.D.D from time to time replying to all the messages you got

the practice seemed to be still not finished even after two hours had passed and you were getting a bit tired from sitting around, but you also couldn't just wander off, Beel might start worry...plus the risk of running into a less friendly demon was still a thing

so you shifted from one position into another not really being able to get comfortable on the hard wooden bench

the ground seemed to be comfier with every minute passing, and so you lay down ignoring the weird looks of the team and trainers, you're body simply wasn't made to sit on this bench longer than necessary

"Here you can wrap yourself in this...it's getting cold. Training is almost over, just hold out a few more minutes!" Beel came over and gave you his jacket and you quickly put it on revelling in his warmth

but here is the problem the jacket made you feel so comfortable that you fell asleep, right on the floor next to a few dozen demons

"We're finished! I'm hungry, let's go get something to eat, any wishes what you want?" Beel was packing his stuff and rambling on about how he could eat at least one year worth of food, training having starved him quite a lot

but when you didn't respond he grew worried and kneeled down next to you, gently resting his hand on your side, he simply laughed when he saw you fell asleep, he is used to it due to Belphie, so he carefully picks you up and carries you home, deciding to order food once there

just Beel giving you a piggy back home, softly smiling to himself and being happy you've come to be so at ease around demons..still at bit worried, but he'll protect you, no worries

"I'll stay by your side until you wake up...and then we can eat lots of good food...please just don't sleep too long or I might have to eat before you wake up."

Belphegor:

so there he was, sleeping, on your bed, in your room, without an invitation...and honestly it wasn't even a surprise anymore, coming home after a work shift at Hell's Kitchen and just wanting to sleep, but no there was no space for you on the bed

I have no idea how, but he manages to occupy the whole bed, and hog blanket and pillows to himself as well

if only he was easy to wake, just to tell him to move over, but no he wouldn't wake up unless you pulled the big guns and nobody wants to face the consequences after one dumped water bottle on his head, it would be a hundred times easier and less dangerous to wake Satan

but you were really tired and just wanted to cuddle into your bed, maybe you could maneuver him with a bit strength..actually forget that...you could always call Beel for help to carry him to his own bed, but by the way he was clinging to your blanket and pillows, that would only end in a empty mattress to sleep on and then you would get cold...

honestly it was his own fault at this point you had threatened him to do it, but he had just laughed it off...

and so you climbed into bed and lay down on top of him, wrapping your arms around him so that you would get at least his body warmth if not the blanket

to your surprise he didn't wake up and he was really comfy, his rhythmic breathing was really relaxing and it didn't take you long to fall asleep

after some time Belphie wakes up with you wrapped around him, he quickly realises that you're asleep, but is stunned nonetheless that you would actually have the guts to sleep on top of him with the risk of waking him up in a bad mood

"That's quite bold of you! You didn't think I will let that slip though, right?" he chuckles amused but shifts nonetheless to make room for you, his embrace is tight, and he hopes just a little bit that you wake up, so he can tease you, but you stay asleep looking content with your new position

"I suppose I could go for another nap...now that I have my favourite pillow with me, sleeping will be even better!" he cuddles you, just like the blanket and pillows...which you don't get any of by the way, but you get Belphie so that's even better, he's gonna keep you warm, don't worry

"You're such a odd human...no idea why I like you...anyway just stay here in my arms and sleep!"

Diavolo:

yesterday was amazing, Dia had taken you to a trip in the human world and you had showed him around, visiting as many places as you two could

what you didn't know was that he had actually sneaked out of the castle to spend time with you

well you didn't know until a very angry Barbatos opened a portal right in front of you two and started lecturing Dia for at least one hour

you felt a bit guilty that you were the indirect cause of this and quickly apologised to him promising to make it up

so here you were in Dias office, overseeing him to do his work so he couldn't sneak out again and Barb didn't have to find him

after all if the reason for sneaking out was right in his room then he had no reason to go, besides the intimidating amount of work left on his desk after yesterdays excurse

Dia worked concentrated for most of the time, only now and then staring out of the window or talking to you

"Isn't it boring to watch me work? I can work alone, I promise to run away...or else Barbatos might get a heart attack from shock of seeing me gone again" he chuckled while signing another document

you reassured you didn't mind sitting next to him in silence, you had a good book borrowed from Satan, tea and cookies from Barbatos and you could stare at Diavolo all day long

your last statement made Dia flush red quite quickly and he tried to distract himself with his work, he slouched over in his chair trying to escape your gaze, but you were having none of it

your arms snaked around his waist and your head came to lean on his shoulder, Dia stiffened not sure how to react he liked the feeling of you hugging him, but now he was scared to move too much as not to disturb you or accidentally hit you with his elbow while trying to write

after a few more documents his eyes flit over to your face, cheek squished against his shoulder, eyes closed and breathing calmly

"Mc? Are.. are you sleeping?" he is whispering trying not to be too loud in case you are truly sleeping, and that you are! A soft smile graces his lips, nobody was ever this relaxed around him, he is proud and wants you to stay asleep as long as possible

he keeps working until Barbatos knocks on the door, coming in and announcing to have brought more tea, only to stop when he sees the sight in front him, Mc holding onto Dia, head resting on his shoulder and sleeping, while Dia put his finger to his lips to tell him not to be too loud

you sleep for an hour or so until Dia really has to move, apologising multiple times for having to wake you

"I'm glad you're able to relax around me, please continue to be yourself! My shoulder is always there for you to nap!"

Barbatos:

"You liked the cake that much? I'm flattered! I could teach you how to make it if you'd like?"

you had been over for tea at the castle and the chocolate cake with black-as-hell cherries was the best cake you've ever ate, it was bittersweet in taste not too much sweetness and not too much bitterness, paired with the melting chocolate, you could have eaten the whole cake on your own

you doubt you'd be able to get the same ingredients in the human realm but maybe you could find similar ones, so you were more than willing to learn with Barbatos

and so you arranged to meet the next Sunday afternoon for a baking session

Barb let you into the castle already awaiting you at the door even though you were early

you two worked on the cake, Barb explaining each step carefully, even for the easiest steps he takes his time to explain and help you, being very patient with you no matter how much you screw up

"Next we have to melt the chocolate in a pot. Wait a minute I turn on the stove for you" while you put the chocolate pieces into a pot, Barb moves behind you and turns on the stove, his arms brushing your sides, yet he stays fully focused, what can't be said for you

the cake is put together quickly with you two working together and while it bakes in the oven and the chocolate is meting, you two go ahead and start cutting and coring the rest of the cherries to decorate the cake later

"Here have a taste, they're bitter at first but the aftertaste is nicely sweet!" He holds out a cored cherry for you to taste and eats one himself, smiling gently at you while you sniff at the fruit first, which smells exactly like a normal human world cherry

the only thing left to do is wait for the cake so you two sit down for some tea at a small table in the kitchen, talking about the week, when Diavolo calls for Barb and he quickly excuses himself to help the prince out

the sweet aroma of the baking cake, the warmth of the tea and the very comfy chair you're sitting in, are a dangerous combination making you fall asleep

as Barb returns he sees you with your head lying on your folded arms on the table, clearly asleep, Barb decides to eave you there while cleans the kitchen and checks on the cake half an hour later

"Mc? The cake is ready to be decorated do you want sleep or do you want to help me?" somewhat embarrassed you stand up and help him with the decorations , Barb acts if nothing happened but he can't help but think about your gentle expression while you slept

"Next time I'll let you sleep longer... I wouldn't mind if you visited me for your naps if that meant I could see you more often."

Solomon:

learning magic was many things: exciting, frustrating, dangerous, fun...but sometimes it also was unbelievable boring

like when you think about magic, you think about casting charms, curses, making potions and all that stuff, but nobody told you that beforehand you have to learn everything about the new spell or etc in theory!

so here you were sitting with Solomon as he rambled on about how while the shrinking charm could have really bad side effects if casted wrong, sure it was important to know how to cast it correctly but did you really have to listen on to everything that might go wrong?

listening to all this just make you feel less confident, I mean technically you were practicing with a tea cup to shrink, so shrinking only a part of it wouldn't be too bad of a side effect, but what if you used too much pressure and made the cup explode and you'd hurt Solomon in the process?!

You took a deep breath, which made Solomon stop talking as he looked at you questioningly

"Anything wrong? Already giving up? Is it toom much?" his light teasing was meant to make you relax, but all you could do was give a small, stiff smile, signalling for him to continue and he did, after messing up your hair with his hand giving you a huge grin, but he talked slower now giving you more glances to make sure you were still alright

"How about a small break? I'll make us some tea..." he stood up and made some tea...in a beaker over a Bunsen burner..this weirdo..

the tea didn't taste weird though, it was just normal tea, even though the preparation would have made Barbatos get a stroke

after the break he was back to full tutor mode and your concentration slipped with each new word, until your head falls down, your chin resting on your chest comfortably, you had fallen asleep right before him

Solomon notices instantly that you're asleep and starts laughing so loud that you wake up again, he is crying and gasping for breath at your flustered state and you hit for good measurement on the arm

"Am I that boring? Fine if you're tired you can rest on my bed. I'll read you a bedtime spell book..." he doesn't stop laughing and teases you endlessly, you better be on your toes around him, you won't be hearing the end of this

"Hey sleepyhead? Do you want me to read you into boredom? I won't take pictures of your sleeping and drooling self...No promises made though..."

Simeon:

He was staring blankly at his manuscript, writers block had been plaguing him for quite some while now, but the new chapter had to be sent to the company until next week

you had offered to help him out maybe you could give him some ideas, so he invited you over and let you read the latest chapter so you'd know what had happened

you sat in his room brainstorming ideas on a small extra sheet trying your best to help Simeon out who looked quite lost

"Do you think that would work? Doesn't if feel a bit too rushed? But maybe if we combined these two ideas together..." he seemed to had found something and began to roughly write up a plan for his further writings

he continuously asked you questions about the smallest details, it was kind of cute that he relied so much on you, he probably could have done the rest himself as well, yet he kept involving you into the whole process

while his one hand scribbled like a madman, his other rested on your arm occasionally lightly squeezing it, reminding you that he didn't forget about you

you slowly fell asleep, the sounds of each others breathing, the pen scratching over paper and the ticking of the clock hanging on the wall, the inly sounds to be heard

"What about this part? How do you think it could go from here?...Mc?" he wasted no time in making sure you were lying comfortably, putting his cloak over your form and still squeezing your arm from time to time while he continued to write late into the night

only then did he notice, the brothers might worry about your absence, should he wake and bring you home? or should he let you sleep here and inform Lucifer about your safety? but the sofa you were currently sitting on, would make your back hurt if you continued to sleep here

it took him some time debating with himself, but came to the conclusion to carry you to his bed and tuck you in, giving you a forehead kiss like he was used to with Luke, only to realise what he'd done and quickly scrambling away in embarrassment to give Lucifer a quick call about the situation

"Have sweet dreams my lamb! I'll be guarding you in any realm, even the dream realm!"

Luke:

Luke, Simeon and you were having a small movie evening, watching some old Disney movies

Simeon didn't allow you to watch something else to protect Luke, but you didn't mind too much

you were having some freshly made desserts by Luke who had worked on them the whole day, as he was very excited for your meetup

you watched a few movies, talking, laughing and joking together, just having fun

"Huh? They called the mean cat Lucifer? Hahah how fitting, he kind of even looks like the real Lucifer! Ah, don't tell him that though!" Luke really liked to compare the different characters to the people he knows, but when there actually were a cat called Lucifer he was quite surprised...who would want their cute pet to be called like a demon? Why not call them angel names? Michael is a pretty cool name...

over the time you became more and more tired and Simeon seemed to notice, suggesting on stopping for today and continuing another time, but Luke convinced you two of one more movie

unfortunately you didn't last the final movie and fell asleep cuddled underneath the blanket between Simeon and Luke

Luke took some time to notice, only seeing it when he turned to you wanting to tell you his opinion about the last scene

"Oh! Simeon... Mc fell asleep..." Simeon already knew, as you had fallen onto his shoulder, not that he minded, he just told Luke to stay quiet and watch the rest of the movie

Luke cuddled up to you to keep you warm and occasionally glanced at you to make sure you were okay, and there cuddled next to you he as well fell asleep...trapping Simeon underneath your combined weight, making it impossible for Simeon to get out of the bed, so you three just slept together that night

"Don't worry Mc! I'll keep all demons away from you while you sleep!"