#(and yet i'm not sure it would have worked for me at all if i'd been reading it in pure text rather than in vn-format!)

[enigmeyyy-writes]

I definitely think a lot of this is really interesting now that I'm rewatching the show again to write my fanfictions...

Katara definitely had her faults (and it was kinda wrong of her to tell her older brother that he didn't love their mother as much, especially because he most likely had more memories of her alive in comparison), but she was still a 14-year-old girl thrust into adult responsibility in the middle of a war. She is misunderstood a lot of the time from a fan's perspective because (in all honesty) a lot of us watched the show as kids and either thought she was super cool or super annoying. I even only started to find Katara annoying after I was older--and that was mainly because in times when she did attempt to "solve" things or "fix" something she wasn't mature enough yet to understand how to handle it responsibly. Sokka was a lot like this too, and we see him getting blamed a lot less. Both of them were standing in as leaders in their tribe during the war, and both of them left. Sure, the Avatar showed up, but even Aang was running away from responsibility until he realized he had to face the consequences of his actions!

Past this point is a lot of me talking about how I'm addressing a lot of this in my fan works, so check it out if you're interested!

I think a lot of my thoughts on this topic stem from the fact that I want to explore the emotional and responsibility commitments the characters of ATLA have weighing on them. In the AU I'm writing, for example, the characters (set in canon) are aged up and a lot of them have more people they are attached to. Since this was a Katara-centric post, I'll also include what I have in mind for my Katara fic.

Growing Pains centers around the letters Katara sends home to her and Sokka's childhood friend, Mali. He was the oldest of the boys left behind by the tribe because he just didn't quite make the age cut, and now serves as a hunter and protector for the tribe. He was definitely upset when his friends left him, but he knew that if they were to travel with the Avatar he had to stay and protect their tribe. Katara sends her letters detailing the stories of her adventures to Mali but soon realizes that she left a lot behind at home for what was turning out to be a perilous and risk-filled adventure.

And on the Aang side of things (because let's face it, a twelve-year-old boy having childish immaturity and the weight of the world on their shoulders is NOT the best combination), I wanted to explore more of his energy and experience of learning maturity after hardship in a Book 3 and post-war fic titled Spitfire.

Spitfire centers around one of Zuko's childhood friends (an OC because I think he deserved friends he could actually trust prior to joining the Gaang) named Soru coming to terms with the fact that he never truly was against the Avatar even though he's from the Fire Nation. Escapism at its finest--truly. As Aang has to come to terms with the new reality the world is entering after the defeat of Fire Lord Ozai, he has to learn how to deal with the weight of the political aspect of society the rest of his friends (and former enemies for that matter) were already wrapped up in.

All in all, I really think exploring aspects of the characters of such a beloved show that aren't really addressed is such an interesting thing to do. I applaud all other ATLA writers on the platform (and any platform) for either just sticking to canon or coming to terms with the flaws that are either over-exaggerated or under-represented in fanfiction, but I am not one of you! I want to explore the inklings of depth we get from this fun show, especially since I'm approaching this from a perspective in which the characters are older and arguably have more responsibility on their shoulders.

I'd really appreciate it if anyone would check out my stories (will be posted on here and ao3) or at least show interest in them! I've worked really hard to put all the details together behind the scenes, so any support or showing you enjoy my works/ideas is greatly appreciated!

I just watched Avatar for the first time all the way through, and yeah, it’s great, but the one thing that surprised me was how different Katara was compared to the fandom interpretation I’d seen and internalized before watching.

Like, before you watch Avatar, you’ve seen all these memes about Katara and her mom, and based on those memes, you assume it’s one of those lines you have to get used to hearing at least once every episode. But then you watch the show and realize that she only talks about her mom maybe five or six times per season and you also realize she only brings her up when she’s trying to comfort someone or empathize with them because that’s how she processes her grief and that’s one way she connects with people.

Or you hear the infamous line, “then you didn’t love [our mother] the way I did” and you prepare yourself for one of the worst character assassinations ever only to see the scene after nearly three seasons worth of context and realize she was kinda right. She’s been the mother, the nurturer, the comforter. She’s been patient, gentle, and accommodating where everyone else has gotten to be insensible and reckless and childish, and the one moment where she allows herself to feel her grief, suddenly she’s this evil bitch and not, y’know, a 14 year old girl whose been thrusted into adulthood in a way no other character has. A 14 year old girl who should be allowed immaturity and raw emotion and anger instead of the patience and grace she’s been forced to extend to every character without even the smallest amount of gratitude or even consideration in return.

Or you see all of the clips where Katara puts Aang in the “friendzone” and you expect to have this wishy washy back and forth where Aang is putting his feelings out there only to have Katara neither commit nor express any clear reciprocation or rejection. Then you watch and realize that, as cute as the ship is initially, that there’s never a point where Aang returns any comfort or grace to Katara despite her always doing this for him to the point of coddling. That for as much as Aang says he loves her, he never seems to outgrow his perception of her so he can recognize her as someone who feels grief, anger, and pain as much as she expresses love, kindness, and maturity. And instead of having moments where he learns to see her beyond her strength or compassion, you’re instead given moments where Aang forces his feelings onto her, both romantic and non-romantic, and Katara is expected to just…shoulder those feelings the way she shoulders everyone else’s.

Katara is the most misunderstood character in the show. As much as people recognize the complexities of Zuko, Sokka, and Azula, they struggle to do the same for Katara because they see her struggles as somehow lesser, and therefore, less deserving of sympathy. They can handle her so long as she’s being endlessly patient and loving and kind, but the moment her endless love, patience, and kindness runs out, she’s suddenly this annoying bitch who can’t shut up about her mother or reciprocate Aang’s feelings. But Katara’s trauma does matter as much as anyone else’s. No, she wasn’t banished from her kingdom. No, she didn’t lose her entire community, and no, she isn’t the only one who lost her mother. But the difference between her and everyone else whose experienced loss because of the Fire Nation is that she’s never given time to process her trauma. Aang gets to lean on Katara constantly. Toph gets to express her feelings to Katara, and yeah, Sokka also lost their mother, but unlike Katara, he isn’t put in the position of being a substitute for everyone’s parent. He even admits that he sees his sister as a mother. The only characters who ever comfort Katara or allow her to vent is Zuko and her father and that’s, like, three scenes in a show where the other characters are consistently given opportunities to seek out Katara for unconditional support.

The fandom interpretation of Katara has been so bastardized that even those who haven’t watched the show know her for this fanon version and not for who she is. She’s such an interesting character beyond her fandom limitations, though. She’s brave, hot-headed, and hopeful as well as gentle and caring. She wishes to learn waterbending, not only because she wants to fight in the war, but because she wants to continue her culture’s practices because, and people often forget this, she also lost an entire subculture within her already fractured tribe. And she wants to defeat the Fire Nation both because of her deep love and empathy for other people, but also because she wants to avenge her mother. But because some of the fans have reduced Katara to a bitch who constantly whines about her mother and friendzones Aang, you wouldn’t know any of this, and it sucks because she’s the only character whose been dumbed down to such an extent.

[odileeclipse]

I'm gonna freaking eat your works.....

(this is mildly wordy It's like 2am and I have a lot to say)

I'm a big big BIGGGGG sucker for a good Shmilk or Pure ganilla fic....and wow you delivered.....🤤🤤

Big thank you for keeping me entertained for a good hour, that's a struggle for me LMAO I loved your writing, and the way you wuold describe his voice being all wispy and spooky; really added to the overall vibe of the fic and I really did like it :3

If you don't mindsies, I'd love to request something from you as well (o゜▽゜)o☆ As previously stated in a comment somewhere, angst makes me SO happy to write/read....the in-depth details people can do with emotions makes me so HEAHEHHAEHAEHEHAHEAHEH in a /pos way....

So! I would like to hhhhhhumbly request some good old fashioned Shmilky angst! Or, if you'd prefer to write Pure vanilla that's cool tooo!!!! I don't really mind what *type* of angst, just angst 🤤 I try to give writers creative freedom, but I'd adore some loss/unable to cope with loss of a loved one.....whatever works ;b ANYWAYS! LOVE YOUR WORK AND YOU'RE VERY COOL!!!!! 💥💥💥💥

The Puppet and the Fool

A tragedy in One Last Breath

A/N You're right there's been too much happiness on this blog time to fix that.

You were never supposed to last. From the moment you met Shadow Milk Cookie, you had been a mere curiosity, a spectator drawn into his ever-moving spire, his ever-deceiving carnival of illusions. And yet, somehow, you had done the impossible you had slipped between the cracks of his carefully constructed reality, nestled yourself in the spaces he hadn’t meant for anyone to occupy. It had started as a game, like all things with him did. "Oh? What’s this? A little spectator who doesn’t flee at the first trick? How rare!" His voice had slithered around you, a serpent’s coil laced with amusement and something sharper, something dangerous. Others feared him, reviled him, whispered of his cruelty in hushed tones. But you, oh, you were foolish. Foolish enough to laugh, to poke at his ego, to challenge him in ways no one else dared.

He had never asked you to stay. Never invited you into his world of trickery and taunts. And yet, there you were, day after day, watching his performances with something that was not admiration, not fear just an amused understanding. "And what, pray tell, keeps you lurking about, dear audience?" he would purr, flourishing his staff. "Surely, you have places far safer than my den of illusions." You had only shrugged, smiling faintly. "Your shows are entertaining." "A high compliment, indeed!" He placed a hand over his chest in mock gratitude. "But beware! The greatest trick of all is never knowing whether you’ve already become part of the act!" "I think I’ll take my chances." Foolish. But he liked that about you. And so, your presence became a fixture, something woven into the very script of his performances. He would create grand illusions, dazzling lights and twisting realities, and you would be there, arms crossed, shaking your head with a knowing smile. "Too much?" he would ask, grinning. "You always overdo it," you would reply. It became a game one he never admitted he enjoyed far too much. And, without realizing it, he began making his performances for you.

"I see through your tricks, Shadow Milk. You’re not as unpredictable as you think." That had caught his attention. You played along, indulged his theatrics, yet somehow remained separate from them. You saw through him in ways that unnerved him, as if you knew where the real strings were pulled. But instead of cutting them, you simply held them, quietly watching as he tangled himself in his own illusions. You became a regular in his performances, not as an unwilling participant, not as a victim, but as something else entirely. A quiet presence beside him, a soft counter to his grandiosity. A knowing smile when his lies got too elaborate, a gentle nudge when his mind grew too tangled in its own web. And somehow, he let you stay. Because for all his lies, you never demanded the truth from him. And for all his illusions, you never asked him to be anything but himself. Looking back, the signs had been small, quiet things, easy to dismiss, easier to ignore. The way your hand would tremble when reaching for his. The way your breath sometimes came too short, too shallow, even when you stood still. The way your laughter, once bright and full, became something softer, something restrained. "Tired already, my dear? We’ve barely begun the show!" he would tease, twirling his staff, watching as you paused to catch your breath. And you, ever the fool, would grin and wave him off. "Maybe you should carry me, then." "Oh-ho! A tempting proposition! But I’d hate to spoil you."

He had never thought much of it. Cookies grew weary. They faltered. It was natural. It wasn’t until he noticed the way you hid it the way you swallowed the winces, the way you steadied yourself against walls when you thought he wasn’t looking that something cold and unfamiliar began to fester in the back of his mind. Doubt. A word he despised when it came to you. But it remained. And yet, he never asked. Because asking would mean acknowledging. And acknowledging would mean accepting. So he let the show go on, even as the cracks in the stage deepened beneath your feet. Now, as you lay in his arms, the truth he had refused to see wrapped around him like chains, dragging him into a reality he would not accept. You had always been dying. And he had never noticed. Or rather he had never allowed himself to notice. "You lied to me," he whispered, his voice barely above a breath. You managed the smallest of smiles, though it barely reached your eyes. "I didn't lie." "But you didn't tell me." His grip tightened, his mismatched eyes wild, frantic, unblinking. "You let me play my part, let me prance about like a fool while you-" He choked on his words. "Why?"

You exhaled, slow, tired. "Because I knew you’d react like this." The laugh that tore from his throat was anything but amusement. "You-!" His voice cracked, and he had to swallow down the wreckage threatening to spill. "You knew and you still…" His breath shuddered. "Why didn’t you tell me?!" You hesitated. Not because you didn’t have an answer, but because you did. And he wasn’t ready for it. "Because I didn’t want my last moments to be a performance," you murmured. Your fingers brushed against his cheek, weak, barely there. "I wanted to just… be with you." Something shattered inside him.

All those stolen moments, every laugh, every conversation, every quiet night beneath an illusory sky of his own making they had been real. You had given him something real. And now you were taking it away. His breath came quick, shallow. His grip on you was desperate, as if holding you tighter could keep you anchored to him, to this world. "No, no, no, I won’t let you—" "Shadow Milk." His name had never sounded so soft. So final. You smiled. "I love you." And then, stillness. The silence was deafening. Shadow Milk Cookie did not move. Did not breathe. Did not accept. His jester’s hat had long since fallen, forgotten on the cold ground. The ghostly eyes in his hair flickered wildly, their gazes darting in all directions, uncertain, uncomprehending. This wasn’t right. This wasn’t real. The story wasn’t supposed to end this way. He clutched your body tighter, rocking slightly, his voice barely above a whisper. "You’re still here." A statement. A fact. A truth. Or perhaps, the most desperate lie he had ever told. "You’re just waiting for your cue. That’s all this is." His tone was light, theatrical, forced. "A clever little act oh, how you’ve fooled me this time, my dear!" His mismatched eyes gleamed, too wide, too bright. "But the show must go on." There was no response. Yet he continued, undeterred. "I’ll give the next line, then! What a generous performer I am!" A sharp, broken laugh left him. "You’ll wake up soon. You always do." The world did not answer. But he did not listen. Because Shadow Milk Cookie was a liar, a master of illusion, a weaver of truths and falsehoods alike. And so he told himself the greatest lie of all. That you were still there. That you had never left. That the final act had not yet begun. And as the silence stretched on, swallowing the stage whole, he did what he had always done. He played his part. And waited for you to play yours.

[ssaaaronmontgomery]

so…sub!hotch.

Whatever gender you prefer to interpret this as is totally fine but when I think of sub Aaron I think he just needs a strong, burly man he can fully *trust* to hold him down so he can let go. I think he has one of those moments where he gets smacked around a little bit and it’s this deep release, just absolutely sobbing and so desperate for comfort.

GOD YES HOLDING HIM DOWN

This post is Hotch x gender neutral!reader

*NSFW MDNI*

Holding him down plsplsplspspls I want to do that. I want to use his ties too.

I've never really thought much about smacking him around or making him cry and be desperate for comfort but this is definitely making me think about it.

He has to REALLY trust the person that he does this with though. It would take him a very long time to get comfortable with the idea of letting anyone do this to him. And I think he has to come to you about it first. Asking if you would ever want to try it, but that he was just thinking about it and that he isn't sure yet. You could definitely ask him first too, but you'd have to wait a good while before mentioning it to him because I think he'd be a little uncomfortable at first.

Once he is ready though, he tells you one night when you're both in bed together, probably watching some movie that neither of you are too interested in. And then he brings it up.

"Hey, you know how we talked about...well about you being really rough with me at some point? Well I've been thinking about it a lot lately and I think I'm ready to give it a try."

You need him to be completely sure though. So you ask him.

"Are you sure you're ready? You said you think you are. I want you to be completely certain about this, Aaron."

So he thinks for a second before nodding his head and telling you that he's definitely ready for it.

You both talk it through and talk about safe words. You explain what will happen and ask if he's comfortable with it all. You ask him what all he wants and what he is wanting to get from this experience. You both agree on what he doesn't want you to do to him. You know it could take a lot out of Aaron and you want him to be as ready and at ease as possible.

You would start slow and work him up to really getting rough. You spank him lightly a few times and gradually increase the force. I don't think he would like you using anything on him like a belt though. He likes it when you grab his jaw and force him to look at you.

I'm not sure about smacking him around a lot, I'd like to spank him a bit though so that's what I'm including here. Making him cry for release though is something I love. Maybe choking him some too 😮���💨. But holding him down or tying him up is a favourite. He has finished more than once by the time you're done with him. He's whining and whimpering from overstimulation, begging you to give him a break but babbling about needing you to use him. If he really wanted you to stop you know he would say one of his safe words. Pinning his hands down when he tries to squirm too much or if he tries to make a move when you told him he wasn't allowed to touch you or himself.

And then how you clean him up and soothe him after everything to let him know he's safe and loved and that it's okay. He loves it when you hold him in your arms where he knows he can be vulnerable and let go. He doesn't have to worry about you really hurting him or anything. He likes feeling safe and secure with you and curling up in your arms.

Thank you for the ask!! I've never thought about something exactly like this especially not in depth but it was fun :)

[wakebymoonsleepbysun]

My breakdown of the Doey timeline, cuz whynot

Combination of my own theories/conjecture and what's actually in the game.

We see Jack getting a Doey toy for Christmas of 92, as well as a trip to the factory. The trip to the factory happens in Jan of 93 and of course Jack falls in.

This makes Jack an unplanned experiment. My theory--since he wasn't trained/prepped in the Game Station or Playcare, and the scientists had to kinda scramble to get anything salvageable of him, that left proto-Doey in a pretty bad/unstable state.

The fact that he had a Doey toy that he already loved so much could be what saved him. Kids are shown to have "assigned toys" at the Game Station, which makes me think a bond with the character/toy is necessary for the kids to adapt to their new bodies, and maybe even make the child take on personality traits of the toy's character.

1322 was too unstable to survive on his own. So another child was selected--Kevin. It seems the scientists hoped Kevin's physical strength would balance out Jack's lack of physical training before the process, and Jack's good temper would balance out Kevin's (perceived) bad one. (I think there's more to Kevin than just "angry child angry and violent at everything". I think he was abused and probably neurodivergent, maybe autistic. Probably on the cusp of a very rough puberty as well. But as a 90s "problem child" myself, I'm not surprised he was just dismissed as a bad kid with no hope. Heartbroken, yes. Surprised? No.)

Sidenote here--I do wonder if they'd gotten the idea of using multiple subjects in the same experiment from the Prototype. Not sure if that would have been something the Prototype would have been doing yet at this point. But I do think it's interesting to call out that the Prototype is not the only experiment made from multiple sources. (I think Poppy may also be such a one but that's some wild conjecture on my part and a post for another day.)

We know Kevin is second because he's described as 1322B. However I think the incident with Jack's parents happened before Matthew was added.

Jack's parents get invited to see Doey. Now, who wrote that letter and why? I'm not completely sure on the details, but I think the main reason it got APPROVED was for the sake of conducting a test. I think it's POSSIBLE someone like Stella may have been making a genuine attempt to do good, but that wouldn't've been reason enough on its own to make this happen.

So Jack's parents rock up to Playtime so the scientists can see how 1322 will react. We've all heard the tape so we know the jist of it, but here's what I think happened internally with Doey. Jack and Kevin's personalities and memories were still muddled. Kevin saw Jack's mom, recognized her as "mom", not realizing she is NOT actually HIS mother. I believe his parents had been abusive, so what Kevin THOUGHT he was doing was fighting back at his own abusers, not some other kid's kind parents. Between that and being in a body he could barely control with a strength he can barely comprehend...Well. Again. We all heard the tape.

So, time to stabilize. Enter Matthew. Responsible, kind, and older. Perfect to wrangle the two younger boys into a fully functioning experiment, ready to be useful to Playtime co. (I kinda gagged typing that. Playtime Co is bastards.)

And y'know? I'd say it mostly worked. From his monologues in the prison, it sounds like Doey wasn't always the most cooperative. He had a bit of a mischievous streak. But I get the impression he didn't lash out or attack until Safe Haven was destroyed. And who wouldn't be broken by that?

[mysteryshoptls]

SSR Azul Ashengrotto - Room Relaxation Voice Lines

I wonder how our newest little business campaign will come to fruition... Heh, oh how I so look forward tomorrow's sales numbers.

Summon: One will usually interact with more people on their birthday than any other ordinary day. In order to deepen personal connections, I must act strategically.

Groovification: I should dress myself promptly. I'd like to make the most of what little time I have available in the mornings.

Home: It's my private time from here on out.

Swap Looks: A wonderful morning.

Home Transition 1: I appreciate how everyone seeks me out for counsel... After all, the more I know of other people's quandaries, the better.

Home Transition 2: A moment ago, Deuce-san shouted his birthday greetings towards me with such fervor. I can't say I'm used to that sort of well wishing...

Home Transition 3: I've started seriously looking into stocks recently. It's never a bad thing to learn all you can before trading.

Home Transition - Login: I refuse to receive gifts as a rule, however birthday cards are another matter. I make sure to read through each one and keep them well.

Home Transition - Groovy: Not only did he wish me happy birthday before classes began, but he also intends to visit the Mostro Lounge... Epel-san is a model freshman.

Home Tap 1: Better sleep quality leads to a more productive performance during the day. It was absolutely worth investing in proper nightwear.

Home Tap 2: Whenever Cater-san graces the Lounge, there is an uptick in the number of customers we see. Now may be the time to unfurl yet another trendy new dish!

Home Tap 3: Hairstyle is an important factor when it comes to first impression. I am always careful to set it so as to give off a professional appearance.

Home Tap 4: Of course, I fully understand the sentiment that money is not a necessity when it comes to celebrating someone's birthday... Yet Ruggie-san takes it to a whole different level!

Home Tap 5: The internet may be quick with how it disseminates information, but sometimes newspapers can still provide unexpectedly valuable reports. How about you give reading one a try?

Home Tap - Groovy: You would like me to teach you some makeup tips? Of course, I don't mind at all. That is, if you are willing to pay a suitable fee.

Duo: [AZUL]: Epel-san, there's no need to gift me anything. [EPEL]: No need to shy away, Azul-san.

Birthday Login Message: [Yuu]-san. Have you, by chance, come to celebrate my birthday? Good timing, I had just hit a roadblock with what I was doing, so I welcome the change of pace. You're curious what this is? Well, it's a new board game. The other day, I only just barely lost to Idia-san, you see. I absolutely must figure out a winning play before our next bout...! Oh, are you intrigued by this board game as well? Perfect, how does a friendly match sound, as I work through possible strategies?

Requested by @oya-oya-okay.

[holdmytesseract]

moodboard by @chennqingg | divider by @fictive-sl0th

Biker!Daryl Dixon x fem!Reader | No Outbreak AU

Warnings for this Chapter: heartbreak, sadness, LOTS of music, Daryl? Merle being Merle, swear words, 'sibling fight', smoking, strip club, a specific TWD character, allusions to smut, lots of emotions

Word Count: 3,7k

a/n: I love this chapter with all my heart. I hope you like it, too. ☺️

《 M a s t e r l i s t 》

《 Chapter Seven 》 《 Chapter Nine 》

Chapter Eight...

... in which you turn a new page in the book of life - still dealing with your broken heart, and Daryl is about to pay a high prize for a life-changing realisation.

《 musical inspiration 》

Both of them are self-explaining, you'll see.

I'm fallin' back down here now, baby (Baby) My mind is collapsing, I'm crazy (Crazy) I'm fallin' back down here now, baby, now, baby (Baby) 'Cause I lost the game, I can't get lower 'Cause your pain it's takin' over Lost the game, I can't get lower Lost the game, lost the game, the game

'Lost The Game' by Two Feet

Days turned into weeks and weeks turned into months - but the aching pain in your chest only died down slowly. One day you felt it more, the other less, but it was always present. Daryl Dixon had left a scar as deep as the Pacific ocean - that much was clear.

Eventually, you found a way to cope and (hopefully) get over him... You spent a lot of time working on the farm - more than ever before; basically everything to keep your mind occupied. Arrow played a big part in your 'recovery' as well. Sure, the palomino Mustang stallion had always played a big role in your life, but nowadays? He was indispensable. Long rides, endless hours of cuddling in the straw and grooming was how you mostly spent your days. No more going out, no more setting a single foot in that damned bar. Work, Arrow and your family (mostly Tess) was all you needed... Oh, and music...

With eyes closed, you sat at the piano; fingers dancing over the keys blindly. You had learned to play as a kid and despite losing it quite a bit throughout high school, college and your teenage years, you found your way back to it. Now even more - thanks to a broken heart. And it helped you... Oh, it helped you so much. It was like balm on a wound...

"But I knew you'd linger like a tattoo kiss

I knew you'd haunt all of my what-ifs

The smell of smoke would hang around this long

'Cause I knew everything when I was young

I knew I'd curse you for the longest time

Chasin' shadows in the grocery line

I knew you'd miss me once the thrill expired

And you'd be standin' in my front porch light

"And I knew you'd come back to me

You'd come back to me

And you'd come back to me

And you'd come back", you sang, still with eyes closed and therefore not noticing your sister, who came to stand in the doorway of the living room. Tess crossed her arms over her chest and leaned against the door frame; listening to you with a soft, yet sad smile on her face.

"Tess!" You squeaked and turned around; hand clutching your rapidly beating heart. "How many times have I told you to not sneak up on me like that?!"

"And when I felt like I was an old cardigan

Under someone's bed

You put me on and said I was your favorite," you ended 'cardigan' with a soft sigh and reopened your eyes; almost falling off your chair, when Tess' voice suddenly urged to your ears. "You are so good at that, I swear."

She giggled and lifted her hands as a sign of an apology. "Sorry, sis, but I couldn't help myself but to stop by and listen. It's beautiful, truly." You gave her a small smile; shock disappearing. "Thank you..." But the smile quickly faded again, when your thoughts travelled back to the lyrics of the song. "Beautiful, yet sad...," you whispered. "He... He won't come back..."

Tess' expression turned soft. Compassionate. "I know..." But she quickly tried to lift your mood again and changed the topic. "You should take it with you to university, you know," your sister gestured towards the musical instrument in front of you. You breathed out a small laugh and shook your head. "I wish I could, but... You know I can't take this beauty all the way to Florida. It most likely wouldn't survive and that would break my heart." You sighed and shrugged your shoulders. "Guess I just have to hope that there's a piano somewhere on the campus..."

Now that the future with Daryl you had printed out in your mind had literally shattered into pieces like glass, you decided to do as your sister told you from the very beginning... Focus on your future. So, that's what you did. You applied to university in Gainesville - and got accepted. That meant, you'd leave in a few weeks - two, to be precise. Late August. The first semester started in September, but you needed time to move, of course. This wasn't just done in a day... But it was a fresh start, and probably exactly what you needed.

"Well, I truly hope for you that there is. You have to keep on taking your medicine - especially with Arrow not being around..." You nodded; sighing again. Of course, you couldn't bring the piano - and neither could you bring your horse... "Yeah, I know." Tess nodded. "Promise me you'll be okay." "Yeah, I will."

While you got settled in Gainesville - so far from home, and turned a new page in the book of life, was quite a few miles away Daryl living the life he had chosen a long time ago... Work, bikes, bars, cigarettes and alcohol from time to time. Usually, you could add 'strip club' to the list as well, but since the workshop was busier than usual with the motorcycle season being still in full swing, was the man way too occupied for some fun besides an occasional wank in the shower or on the small sofa at home - and it showed.

That was at least what the people around him thought, with Merle leading the way. Too much work and stress plus too less chances to relief said stress, equalled bad moods and grumpiness.

Not that Daryl didn't think the same. He did. It felt like a hole in his body he just didn't manage to fix just yet. Lack of sex (and probably bike trips) was his diagnosis. The biker didn't even waste a single thought that it could be something entirely different - or... Didn't he want to consider another option?

Anyways... He was in a bad mood - since weeks. So bad, that all of his fellow mechanics avoided conversations with him; only getting involved in a conversation when it was necessary. As for Daryl, he couldn't care less about it. He was good on his own. Probably even better on his own...

With an revving engine drove the biker back on the courtyard of his brother's workshop; slowing down. Slowly, Daryl manoeuvred the dark blue and white Yamaha he had been working on the past few days back inside the open workshop, past his colleagues and all the way through to the little hall at the end, where he killed off the engine and dismounted the bike.

Just as he was about to leave the hall and light a cigarette, his older brother made his way over to him. Sweat and grime stained his white top. "Where the fuck have ya been?" Daryl scoffed at Merle's question and lit the cigarette dangling off his mouth. "Christ's sake, ain't I even allowed ta gas up a bike without tellin' ya?" He snapped; clouds of smoke puffing past his lips. "Don't need ya ta mother me."

Merle immediately lifted his hands in surrender; chuckling. "Woah there, calm down, baby brother. What's wrong with ya, huh? Been actin' like a dick since weeks." Again, Daryl scoffed and wanted to brush past the older Dixon, "'M fine. Ain't nothing wrong." but he didn't get far. His brother stepped in his way. "Look, Darlina... I know it's been kinda stressful 'round here lately. We all are stressed, eh? But that ain't a reason to smell up the whole workshop with yer bad mood like a shitfaced alcoholic, got it?" Daryl grunted in response and tugged at his blue mechanic overall in annoyance with his free hand. "Yer in desperate need ta blow off steam, baby brother. Get some pussy. It'll make ya feel better," Merle clapped harshly Daryl's shoulder and passed him by, laughing. "Go, or I'll drag yer sorry ass single-handed to the 'White Rabbit'!" He called over his shoulder with a wide smirk.

The younger Dixon just scoffed once more and lifted his hand to show Merle his gloriously raised middle finger - what caused his brother to only laugh more.

"Asshole..." grumbled Daryl under his breath and took another long drag of his cigarette, before the biker occupied himself with work again.

The 'White Rabbit' - the probably best and most visited strip club around. Good music, relatively tasty alcohol and one hell of a few strippers. A few of them willing to... even provide some extra service - if the money and circumstances were right. He had spent a lot of time in his youth and early 20s there... To say these nights had been wild was probably an understatement.

However, it was a place Daryl didn't seek out for quite a while... Months.

Now, he stood in front of the brightly lit, small building; taking the last few drags of his cigarette. It was a strangely pleasant warm Saturday evening, despite the fact that it was late September. Nevertheless, had the biker opted for a long-sleeved black shirt underneath his angel-winged vest.

Throwing the stub of the cigarette on the concrete ground beneath him, he stubbed it out with the tip of his shoe and adjusted his sunglasses, before he took a last look at his bike. Then he crossed the street to follow his brother's advice to hopefully get laid - which depended if she was present or not. If not, he could probably manage to walk out with a blowjob. Better than nothing.

As soon as he stepped through the neon illuminated doors, he took off his sunglasses. The familiar scent of alcohol, cold smoke and several different perfumes wafted through the air and hit him like a freight train. Hell, he wasn't used to it anymore...

He walked down the small hallway; always following the bright, colourful neon lights. A few men passed him by, while he passed by two strippers. One of them he knew well. The other not really.

"Hey, hun," the athletic, tanned, black haired beauty leaned against the wall; wearing nothing more than a flimsy, shimmering dress - and a smile. A cigarette was pinned between her pointer and middle finger. "Long time no seen." The biker stopped, of course, in his tracks; not wanting to be impolite. "Hey, Roxy," he jutted his chin as a greeting and just couldn't help himself but to let his eyes travel over the woman's body. He was just a man after all...

Roxy noticed it, of course. It was hard not to. Daryl wasn't quite subtle, but she brushed it off and just smiled. It's not like she wasn't used to it. And besides, that was what she was here for, right? It was her job.

"Yeah, uh, been busy, ya know..." The biker finally replied. "Workshop going well?" He nodded; still trying to keep his eyes on Roxy's face. "Uh.Huh, yeah." The woman opposite him smiled and took a drag of her cigarette. "Good to hear." Once more, Daryl just nodded.

It was quiet for a moment, before he spoke up again. "Is, uh, you know who here?" She nodded with a knowing smile. "She is. You're lucky. Had to jump in for Chrissie tonight." "A'right. I'll, uh, be goin' then. See ya 'round?" "Sure, hun."

The closer he got to the main hall, the louder got the music. Just as he entered; shoving his bulky frame through the macramé curtain of the door, 'White Rabbit' by Jefferson Airplane started to play. How ironic, thought Daryl. Loud claps and whistles sounded through the air; attracting Daryl's attention. One look at the stage to the left was enough to know why every man in here was so thrilled... There she was... The star of this establishment... Leah.

Daryl swallowed hard and took a few coordinated steps closer; leaning against the wall in the back with his arms crossed over his chest. He would lie if he said he didn't miss this in some kind of way, wouldn't he? Merle was right... He needed this - that was what Daryl believed. The solution to all his 'problems'.

He watched. Just like every other man in here, naturally. Leah was something special. The biker noticed that early on. Something in the way she moved... The looks she was always giving him... Thrilling. And she didn't miss out on them today. It took her a while to notice Daryl's presence, but about halfway through the song, she did. Usually would've sent the downright erotic smile Leah had given him straight into another stratosphere. It never failed to cause his blood to rush to a certain part of his body.

But not today.

The smile has been given, but the effect was lacking - much to Daryl's surprise and... shock? A deep frown carved its way into his forehead. Why? What was wrong? Nothing had changed...

The biker brushed it off, of course. Reasoning that it was because he hadn't been to this place for a long time. His body just had to adapt, right? Without wasting a second thought, he just decided to enjoy the show - and look forward to what he would might get after.

Once his favourite stripper's performance was over after a few songs and the whole room of testosterone was done salivating and satisfied, he noticed the subtle sign Leah gave him. That hadn't changed. So, Daryl quickly, but subtly headed for the small bar; dismissing the female bartender, who wanted to offer him a drink.

Daryl wanted to feel excitement and anticipation, but somehow it wasn't there; replaced by a strange feeling he couldn't pinpoint. The same strange feeling he carried around since weeks, with the only difference that it seemed to worsen now - which the biker didn't understand. This was supposed to be the solution and-

"I think I can't trust what my eyes see." A voice suddenly urged to Daryl's ears; ripping him out of his thoughts. A very familiar voice... "Hey, sexy stranger," Leah addressed him; a smile on her face. "Already thought you got tired of me." Daryl scoffed and lifted his crossed arms off the bar counter. "Jus' had a lot goin' on. 'M up ta ma ears with work." Leah raised an eyebrow. "Merle kept you that busy?" The biker just nodded alongside a grunt. "S why 'm here." The stripper's expression immediately shifted into a knowing smirk, "I see... My biker boy is in need of some... stress relief." before she bit her red lipstick clad lips. "I think I might just have the right solution for that little... issue," she said and dragged a hand awfully slowly down Daryl's clothed chest and stomach - only stopping at the black belt around his hips. Leah gave it a teasing tug and smirked at him again. "Come on then," she said; beckoning him to follow her with a come-hither motion of her pointer finger.

Of course, Daryl followed after her; eyes locked on her barely covered body, which was tucked away from his prying eyes by a red silk robe.

She led him to a side door; checking the surroundings if anyone was watching - and let the biker pass. The hallway he walked down then was familiar. After all, he had been here way more than only a few times. And the room he entered after Leah was well-known as well... Her personal changing room.

"Stressful, yeah?" The woman asked while peeling the red silk robe from her body. Daryl couldn't do much but stand there and stare; swallowing hard. "Yeah," he managed to croak out. Leah's lips held a knowing smirk. She knew what she was capable of doing to the biker. It was always the same... He would almost instantly lose his 'bad boy' demeanour around her and was putty in the woman's hands with barely a snap of her fingers.

The stripper poured herself a quick drink, downed it and directed her full attention back to Daryl, who hadn't moved an inch. His eyes were still glued to her body as he was gnawing at his thumb - another habit mostly showing nervosity, uncertainty and insecurity.

Leah couldn't help but smile again. So cute, she thought and pushed herself off the admittedly huge counter on the right side of the room and stepped closer. "You poor thing..." She stated; shaking her head and circled the man like a predator. While standing behind him, Leah placed her hands on his shoulders and started to massage him with a delicate, yet firm touch. "So tense..." Daryl swallowed hard again; could hear in her voice how she was shaking her head once more.

Arrived in front of him, she reached for Daryl's wrists. "Come on... Let me help you," she whispered - borderline seductively. He let her guide him further to the left, where that familiar chair waited for him and on which Leah pushed him down with a hand on his chest.

The woman rounded him again until she was standing behind Daryl once more; hand never leaving his chest. Quite the opposite. Her other hand was joining in. They played with the lapels of his angel-winged vest and the buttons of his black shirt; warm palms gliding over his pecks and stomach. She leaned in close - he could feel her hot breath against his ear. "What do you need, pretty boy, huh?" She whispered and pressed an open-mouthed kiss against the shell of his ear, which was poking out from behind his long curls. It caused the biker's breath to hitch. "Tell me."

"I-I-" Daryl stuttered; squirming slightly under her touch. He had stumbled over his words - in confusion. Somehow, it felt different. Not as pleasing as it used to feel. Why was his body reacting like that? So... distant? But once more, he pushed the thought aside; still convinced that this cure was going to work at some point.

"Wha'ever ya willin' ta do."

A small laugh left Leah's lips at his words. "Don't tempt me, Daryl." She stepped around the chair; now facing him. "I think I know exactly what you need. My muscle memory is working just fine," the woman winked at him; shook some loose strands of her wild red hair out of her face, before she dropped to her knees in front of him.

Daryl's breath got caught in his throat again, as he felt Leah's hands skimming the inside of his thighs; fingertips leaving a firing hot trail behind he could even feel through the fabric of his jeans. Not a good kind of fiery, though. It felt like his skin was getting burnt. The biker whimpered - much to the stripper's delight; thinking she pleasured him already. He pressed his back further inside the chair; seconds away from jerking his legs away from Leah's touch.

Wrong, wrong, wrong, screamed his body at him.

But then Leah let her hands travel on... Straight to his belt, where her talented fingers worked to unbuckle said belt. Daryl let his head fall into his neck; eyes slipping shut - a blessing in disguise. Suddenly, the strange feeling he carried around since weeks seemed to culminate; triggered by the familiar, yet so strange woman.

Pictures and memories he had stored in his brain ran like a movie in front of his eyes. Pictures and memories... Not of Leah, though... Pictures and memories of you. It was as if you were right there in front of him. As if he would just stretch out his hand, he could reach you. You were smiling at the biker. He could see the happiness on your face; hear your voice and witness your joyous laughter whenever you gifted him your time. He relived the first time he met you; riding on that horse with that sweet cowboy hat on your head. All the memories you made together in that bar. Drinking, playing pool, laughing and just having fun. And of course he saw every passionate night you had shared. Your body writhing against his. The way you touched him and never failed to set his veins on fire. Your scent. Your taste. It consumed Daryl.

But the most prominent memory was the one where he had left you standing at that damn gas station. The heartbreak and sadness in your voice... The tears in your eyes he saw you shedding in his rearview mirror. You had opened up your heart for him - truly felt something for him, and he had just broke it. Broke you. As if it meant nothing. Mindlessly. Carelessly. You could've been that one good thing in his life - and he just threw it away, because he was too blind to see it.

Not anymore.

He could see clearly now. The blindfold he had worn discarded; ripped from his eyes like a bandaid. How far he had needed to go to see it... That it almost took another woman he was about to sleep with.

Pathetic.

He was a fool. A damn fool.

The sudden, very unpleasant and uncomfortable touch of Leah's skin against his catapulted the biker out of his almost hallucinogenic state. It was wrong. So wrong. Her hand didn't belong there; on his body... Yours did. He never wanted to feel another touch but yours.

Daryl was moments away from ripping the stripper's hands off his body, when another part of his brain made its appearance out of nowhere... His doubts, fears and insecurities.

Love, relationships, girlfriends... It wasn't him. It wasn't the kind of stuff he did, right? He never learnt what it meant to have a loving and understanding partner. To have someone he could truly trust and rely on. Sure, he had Merle - but that was different. Merle was blood.

And then there was that voice in his head... The devil on his shoulder. You'd screw it up anyway, Daryl. Hell, you already screwed it up. Why even try again? Besides, do you really think she'd want you back? After what you did to her? Grow some balls and get over that damn girl. Enjoy what Leah is able to give you. Pleasure with no strings attached.

Daryl swallowed hard; hesitating. A war of feelings raging inside him. Head against heart. What was he supposed to do?

Tags: @angelwings-crossbowstrings @dixons-sunshine @bigbaldheadname @making-the-most-0f-it @imadisneyprincessiswear @loz-3 @fictive-sl0th @erebus-et-eigengrau @belitoxx @chaoticevilbakugo @dixonsdarkelf @ffsjustletmesleep @lizziesloopy @marvelcasey05 @whore4romance @stitchintimefan @km-ffluv @0-aubrie0 @sweetz1919 @mikaela-granger @secretsicanthideanymore @dilfdixon @txtttttttttttttt @cakesandtom @mayday2007 @huntedmusicgardenn

If you want to be added or removed from this taglist, please let me know. :)

[canonkiller]

✨ "Your online print store is broken?" FAQ

Yeah I did that: A Summary

Q: Why did you remove everything from your Redbubble / INPRNT / etc?

A: A bunch of reasons. I made the choice for myself after thinking about it for a long time and not liking it. Some of these reasons include:

I don't like not knowing the workplace conditions or compensation given to the people actually manufacturing physical goods of my work through these services

I don't like the waste of easy-to-buy, easy-to-break manufacturing or the shipping process

I personally stopped giving a shit about the potential for theft-by-loss-of-potential-profit because it made me feel like a corporation and that sucked

There is no way in hell Redbubble will ever be profitable enough to get me to overlook this, and I don't think I should try to make it so.

The ones that haven't been emptied are having login issues. I'll be killing them as soon as I am able.

Q: So what's the alternative? How can I get prints now?

A: Anyone interested in prints can just ask me for the full resolution files of whatever piece you want and I'll send them over. Then you can either use your own printer or order something from a local store / chain and tada, print made.

In the future, I'll have the files up on Ko-fi (like the Avex body pillow) as pay what you want, so you don't even have to ask. I'd still prefer if you didn't make extras to sell for your own profit, but I can't stop you.

Q: But isn't that going to lose you money?

Probably, but the $20-odd I was making across all of my merch sites was not enough to overpower my concerns listed above. Someone tossing me $5 through PWYW is already paying me more than any of those sites would pet sale (Redbubble can be adjusted higher, but the price is already so inflated), and the end result is still more affordable for the buyer.

I also want my art to be more accessible to people like me: ones who can't casually spend $30 getting a piece of paper shipped internationally, but enjoy being able to experience shapes and colors. Differences between currency conversions, payment platform options and mail access are things I don't think should create a barrier in enjoying and adding art to your space.

Q: What about the other types of merch? Like clothing?

I've been keeping an eye on secondhand gadgets and would like to one day offer on-demand items with thrifted or secondhand base materials, but this is not a priority for me at this time. You'll live without a shirt, and if you won't, try an iron on transfer or whatever the modernized equivalent is. Anything I can't find a way to make, nobody needs to buy, simple as that.

The pin-back button press calls to me like a beautiful siren but I have yet to find one that is both affordable and close to me. The grind never stops.

Q: I also have concerns about the things you mentioned and want to try and be more accessible and sustainable with my art. Is it okay if I also do this?

I don't own the concept of sending people PNGs CMYK JPGs when they ask for them and even if I did I'm sure as hell not gonna charge people for doing it. The more people turning away from mass manufacturing the better, imo.

[bumblingbabooshka]

thoughts on saavik?

I don't know anything about Saavik v_v I really love these two posts about her though! X and X I think about these posts often and whenever I do I feel like I want to draw!

[overnightheartbeats]

"Just a little surprised," she reassured. "It's true then," the truth settled in for her. Ivette had heard the rumor, that his parents were not as involved. She just didn't think it was true, and that they really had let him take the place under his guidance already. "Hm, that is a pretty big difference, almost night and day." She had remembered those distinctions being very clear when she was still growing up here. "I loved that table, of course I remember. I know they hated that we were interrupting their cooking flow." Not that they'd voice their annoyance, since she was hanging out with him. "You are quick to clean, wow. Wait, you're kidding. Two in the morning?" That was insanity for her, but only because two in the morning was when she was most active at the hospital. Night shifts had become an odd favorite of hers. "You certainly sound busy, but I guess that's what you've been preparing for all this time." Running this place had always been part of the plan, his mother's words echoing in her mind.

She followed him to the kitchen, taking a seat as soon as they walked in. Unlike the early bird, Ivette's head was still spinning a smidge. "Okay, yes. How much fun would you make of me if I admit I feel just a tiny bit hungover? Eggs are still perfect, what's your specialty in the kitchen?" While he was grabbing items from the fridge, she had taken a few minutes to reply to Javi, just because he might dissuade her from continuing to sit here in her ex's kitchen, and getting breakfast together.

It's great, now you can smack me back to reality in real time versus delayed a few days letter when your letter would arrive. You know, sometimes I forget who I'm talking to Mr. advice columnist. Easier said than done, but you're not wrong. I just can't get over the fear of talking to him, I'd kind of be putting myself out there again. Putting myself out there to get shot down and possibly humiliated, doesn't sound fun at all. I'll think about when, maybe the next time I'm drunk out of my mind (kidding!) It feels like a bad idea, doesn't it? Everyone says being friends with an ex is impossible. Is she talking to you now at least? I'm sure she would know how important she is to you. You show a lot of care in your words. Would you take your own advice, talking to her so that you can also get some closure? Do you plan on telling her ever? How you feel? Silently carrying those feelings is hard. Especially if you see each other every day. I get you though, I'm still so upset and hurt with him and yet, I would fall again in a heartbeat. Well, smartest thing...our brains just kinda stop working, no? Mines did when I'm around him, that's for sure. Mojitos with tequila are the best! But, yesterday was rum. That's probably what screwed me over after the second one. I hate when you have good advice, you know, it makes it hard to listen to my impulsive thoughts. My suitcase was already packed, but yes I promise I'll try not to run. If you also try making some progress on the love life. Just so I'm not alone in the journey. :)

Javi's words were circling in her mind as she set her phone down - last time isn't this time. Plus, getting closure. Closure was all she had been thinking of for years, picturing all the ways she would confront him for the pain he caused her, but now that they were a few feet from each other, she couldn't bring herself to ask. Nate's voice pulled her away from her thoughts, lemonade dissolving everything else. "Yeah, of course. Lemonade will finish waking me up. What are your plans for today then, besides making breakfast for your guests?" Maybe she was just looking for ideas of things to do before the real work began tomorrow. Or, she was curious what a day in Nate's life looked like now.

He nodded as confirmation and smiled, "a little surprised? I mean, I wanted to make a difference once this wasn't under the direction of my parents. No one here is below anyone else. We're all equal. There isn't a table in the kitchen here anymore. Remember that table we used to hid under when the ladies would cook? They all get to eat out in the living room with the rest of us." Being crowned prince didn't mean he was above them all. Not anymore it didn't. "Cleaning is going well. Done with the courtyard now heading inside. Mhmm," he laughed. "I am usually up at two in the morning but I go to bed at six. Dinner is at four usually. Unless I have more work to do." That work being his actual job as an advice columnist. "No, well I'm no plumber. That's the only thing that Raul does. Everything else is me. I like to keep busy." Also, this was everything he'd learned at his boarding school.

"Don't worry about it. Let's eat." The break was well deserved anyway. He lead her through the kitchen doors and gestured for her to take the first available seat she found. The wall between the outer kitchen and the stove was tall and had hidden him from sight for a moment as he took out the ingredients together to make a satisfying breakfast. "Still like eggs?" he asked as he felt his phone vibrate.

The joys of evolving technology. There's a lot of "I"s in that sentence. How do you know for sure? Have you talked to him about it? You're and don't take this as me taking his side in this. He hurt you and that is not something that can be set aside but, you're not giving him a voice to his side. You're assuming that the past version of him is the one you spent the night with. Talking in absolutes when you aren't really truly sure thats what he thinks. Last time isn't this time. If you want that closure you're going to have to talk to him. Not today maybe not in the upcoming weeks but sometime you will need to meet face to face to talk about the past just to get that closure. You deserve it.

I can't even tell you anything on wanting to be friends. I'm in a similar boat as you where I'd give anything to make her see that she's still important to me. I'm okay. Been drowning myself in work. I get to see her everyday for a while and it kills me to see her and see how far apart we truly are. I don't know how to talk to her without telling her how much I still love her. That the pain that was inflicted did nothing to change how I feel about her. I still carry her in my heart even though the smartest thing would be to get her out of there. I still at the end of the day, would bend to my knees for her. Mojitos are good. Was it mixed with vodka or tequila? Don't run. Don't give him that power.

He had put his phone away and sighed as he brought over some juices to the table. "I hope lemonade is okay?"

[kvetchinglyneurotic]

do you ever have the irrepressible urge to do something time-consuming and useless

[monster-noises]

Like.. genuinely, very genuinely.

Where and how to do hunt down events in your city? Like places and groups and activities where people who like the same things as you gather and hang out and do social stuff?

Cause I do follow like.. local game stores, comic shops, book shops, galleries/art programs, concert halls, the 1 gay bar in town, queer group pages, the library, and at least one local zine making group whose events never line up with my schedule except the 1 time it did and i went and it was very awkward for me so idk how good that one would pan out if I kept tryingggg-

And while a lot of these places host events semi-regularly the year a lot don't appeal or apply to me so I'm just at a Bit of a Loss for where to find events where I may connect with other people..

So like if ya'll know of some secret search term of webbed site or what have you IIIIII'm open to suggestions!

(and lets just completely ignore the fact that they're all going to be scheduled during my working hours anyway and I won't be able to go, I'll breakdown about that one later. I need to delude myself at least a little bit or else I'll Implode)

[sysig]

Just Desserts continental northern map made using this method! :D (Patreon)

[moonlit-tulip]

One inconvenient side effect of my state of being somewhat allergic to most fan-translated light novels (for "the prose tends to be Deeply Awkward, probably because all the translators who reach the level of doing Actual Good Prose get scooped up by the official translation-licensing companies?" reasons) is that it makes it difficult and vaguely nerve-wracking to interact with the Monogatari fandom.

Because, like... there are two whole seasons of the series which exist only in fan-translation, not in official translation! And the fandom has, very reasonably, gone and, like, read the books comprising those seasons. But I haven't, and don't expect that to change for a pretty long time! And thus, despite being a big fan of the series, I can't really safely interact with the fandom, for fear of spoilers.

Eventually, this will be fixed one way or another, either by the remaining novels getting official translations (...after the manga translations finish? I hope? Although my hope is somewhat weaker than it would have been a few years ago, given the context where the Zaregoto and Pretty Boy Detective Club translations both seem to have stopped too despite not involving the same translators) or by my learning enough Japanese to read the remaining books in the original or by my figuring out some way to increase my tolerance for light novel fan-translations.

Hopefully one of these will happen before I run into Major Spoilers, rather than only after.

[quatregats]

Current Situation would actually probably be solved if I stopped looking to Projects for all my satisfaction in life

[svtskneecaps]

i always know i’m getting stressed when my comfort fic becomes “time travel fix-it” adjacent. like honestly when i put that tag back in the ao3 include filters that should have been a red flag.

[derinthescarletpescatarian]

wait, Derin how did your leaving make the hospital shut down?

I used to work as a live-in nanny for a pediatrician.

Now, the thing about hospitals in my country is that they are massively understaffed and massively underfunded. This is especially true outside the major cities. The staff are worked to the bone and receive little to no help in things like finding accommodation or childcare, making working in rural areas a very uninviting prospect; staff come out here, get lumped with the work of three people (because there's nobody else to do it), burn out under the workload and leave, meaning that those remaining have even more work because that person is gone. It's unsustainable and the medical staff are doing their best to sustain it, because people die if they don't, so to the higher-ups it looks like everything's getting done and therefore everything is fine.

My friend (and boss) worked one week on, one week off, swapping out with another pediatrician. This was necessary because it would not be physically possible for one person to handle the workload for longer periods of time. The one single pediatrician had to hold up the entire pediatrics ward, which was not only the only public hospital pediatrics ward in our town, but also the one that served all the towns around us for a few hours' drive in all directions. I regularly saw her go to work sick, aching, tired, or with a debilitating 'I can barely make words or see' level migraine, because if she took a day off, twenty children didn't get healthcare that day, and some of these kids' appointments were scheduled weeks in advance. She'd work long hours in the day and then be called in a couple of times overnight for an hour or two at a time (she was on-call at night too, because somebody had to be), and then go in the next day. Sometimes she would be forced to take a day off because she physically could not stay awake for longer than a few minutes at a time, meaning she couldn't drive to work.

Cue my niece's second birthday coming up in Melbourne. I'd been working for her for about 3 years, and she (and the hospital) had plenty of advance warning that I (and therefore she) needed one (1) Friday off. That's fine, we'll find someone to work that Friday, the hospital said. Right up until the last week where they're like "oh, we can't find a replacement; you can come in, can't you?"

No, she tells them; I don't have anyone to watch my kid that day.

Oh, surely you can hire a babysitter for this one day, they say. Think of the children! We really really need you to work that day. I know we said it'd be fine but we need you now, there's no one else to do it.

There are no other babysitters, she told them. Unless you can find one?

That's not our responsibility, they said.

But I'm not changing my plans, she's got plans by now as well, the hospital knew about this one day weeks in advance, and with absolutely no reserve staff they're forced to reschedule all pediatrics appointments for that Friday. Not a huge deal, it happens on the 'physically too overworked to get out of bed' days too. I go to Melbourne, she goes back to her home in Adelaide for her recovery week, all should be on track.

My niece gives me Covid.

This was way back in the first wave of the pandemic, and there were no Covid vaccines yet. The rules were isolate, mask up, hope. I had Covid in the house, and it would've been madness for my friend and her toddler to come back into the Covid house instead of staying in Adelaide. There was absolutely no way that a pediatrician could live with someone in quarantine due to Covid and go to work in the hospital with sick children every day. And no support existed for finding another babysitter, or temporary accommodation, so the hospital was down a pediatrician.

The other pediatrician wasn't available to do a three-week stint. They were also trapped in Adelaide on their well-earned week off.

Meaning that the only major pediatrics ward within a several-hour radius had no pediatricians. They had to shut down and send all urgent cases to Adelaide for the week. To the complete absence of surprise of any of the doctors or nurses; of course this would happen, this was bound to happen, it presumably keeps happening. But probably to the surprise of the higher-ups. After all, the hospital was doing fine, right? Of course all the staff were complaining of overwork and a lack of resources in every meeting, but they could always be fobbed off with the promise of more help sometime in the future; the work was mostly getting done, so the issue couldn't be too urgent.

It's not like some nanny who doesn't even work for the hospital could go out of town for a weekend for the first time in three years, and get the only public pediatrics ward in the area shut down for a week.