#.... guess i could do that with my regular email though

[roosterforme]

Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw Part 5 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: With each email written and received, you and Bradley are both aching for more details. While he's thinking about plans for a first date, you get apprehensive, knowing you're going to be devastated when he returns to wherever he calls home after a few days of leave. If the two of you had an opportunity to speak more intimately, there's a chance the details could fall into place.

Warnings: Fluff, language, Bradley being hot

Length: 4200 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female teacher!Reader

Check out my masterlist for more! Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw masterlist

After much consideration on the matter, you sat down at home that evening with your phone and started to type up a response to Bradley. He wanted to know in an overabundance of detail how you'd feel if he asked to cancel your dinner reservation and chill with takeout instead? You weren't quite sure what he was getting at, and it felt a little bit like he had given you another assignment to work on, but you were planning on being completely transparent with him. 

Once again, the ease with which you and he communicated, even through the written word alone, was something that made you a little dizzy. A little needy. Bradley had better communication skills and paid you more attention than half of the men you'd dated, and he wasn't even in the same time zone as you.

Bradley,

We got the package you sent. My kids went wild over their personalized notes, as per usual. You've reached full celebrity status in my classroom. We'll be working on sending some notes back to you in the next few days, so brace yourself.

Please remember that you asked me for an abundance of detail here... What would I do if you wanted to change plans? Wanted to spend a quiet evening hanging out at your place instead of going out? In an extreme effort to sound as cool as possible right now... just thinking about this is making me feel warm enough that I need to take a lap around my apartment. I guess first of all, I would tell you that as far as takeout is concerned, I love Thai food the most. I'm not very picky though, so even a generic pizza and some beer would more than suffice. 

If you said you were tired from work and still wanted to hang out, I wouldn't be too pressed about the details. I would be perhaps a little giddy that you missed me enough to want me around. I'd offer to pick up dinner on my way. I would let you choose the movie. I wouldn't even be upset if you fell asleep. In fact I'd probably just cover you with a blanket and let you doze. There is perhaps no worse feeling than forcing yourself to go out when you just really don't want to. And right now nothing sounds better to me than watching a movie with you on your couch. But I have to know... if you're 6'1", are you too tall to stretch out there comfortably? Where would I end up? Would we be touching? Please reply with an abundance of detail. 

I know this scenario is purely hypothetical, but it does sound pretty perfect. I'll be thinking about splitting some Thai curry with you on your couch for a long time. Maybe during those couple days of leave when you get back to San Diego, we could meet? I think I would like that, even if you just have one day before you have to get back to your regular routine. And now I need to take another lap around my apartment.

One last thing. The aviator who took my photo on the beach was a woman, but I appreciate your response. I can't guarantee I'll stay off the beach, but I can guarantee that I'll give a guy a chance. Also, what does a girl have to do around here to get a dreamy sunset photo of you? 

Once again, hitting send before I can change my mind.

You took another lap around your apartment, even going so far as to walk around the block before it got too dark outside. Thai food and Bradley Bradshaw and a movie on his couch. There was a loop playing in your mind where he leaned in and kissed you before calling you 'Gorgeous Girl' and reaching for your hand.

"Why are you torturing yourself like this?" you moaned out loud when you walked back inside all flushed with desire. You took a long bath. You made some sleepy time tea. You sat on your couch with your notebook and worked on lesson plans until it was pretty late, but you weren't tired at all.

Frustrated that you were letting this man take over so much of your brain, you went to your bedroom and plugged your phone in for the night. And that's when you heard the familiar ping, alerting you to the fact that you had a new email.

"No way," you gasped when you looked at the screen. You'd just send him a response two hours ago, and Bradley had already written back. You flopped down onto your bed, wrenching your phone back from the charger as you started to read.

Hey, Gorgeous,

Your answer was enlightening, thank you. Relieved to hear you wouldn't pout about missing the dinner reservation. I love Thai food, but I would absolutely insist on grabbing the takeout and having you pick the movie (nothing with scary spiders, please). 

I actually don't really fit on my couch too well at all. If I really stretch out, my feet dangle over the arm, and there wouldn't be much room left for you, too. Would we be touching? God, I hope so. Where would you end up? I'm blushing just thinking about the possibilities. 

You asked for details? Well, I'd ask for permission. If you gave me permission to touch you, we'd be holding hands. If you gave me permission for more than that, then you'd be covering both of us with a blanket, and I'd be holding you a lot closer. I don't think I should provide further details on that right now, actually. Gorgeous girl, you're messing with my head.

If you're feeling generous enough to give me a chance, then I'm feeling generous enough to send you a sunset photo. But frankly a girl like you isn't going to have to do much at all to get whatever she wants. Next decent sunset around here is all for you.

Your Truly,

Bradley

Well, you may never sleep again. You read his email twice before pulling up the photo of him in front of his jet, and your mind started to wander as you looked at his face. No, you'd never sleep again.

------------------------------

Bradley felt pretty ridiculous. He'd never taken so many photos of himself before in his life. Snapping a few for your class while in his cockpit with all of his gear on was one thing, but trying to get a flattering one of his face with the sun setting in the middle of the ocean was something else entirely. He was alone in a deserted part of the deck, thankful nobody else could see him. 

"Maybe she won't notice if I'm not in it," he muttered as he snapped one of the setting sun. The sky was glowing a deep orange, and the clouds moving in made everything look even dreamier. He started thinking about you and the fact that you said you were going to give him a chance. The details weren't important. He'd work that part out. When he got back to San Diego, he was going to see if you and he were as compatible in person as you were right now. But the remainder of his deployment was the one thing that was preventing that from happening immediately, and you did ask him for a photo of himself. If you really wanted it, he'd make sure you had it.

He had never been so stressed out about his scars in his adult life before right now. The best photo he took of himself was one where they looked a little more prominent. He'd sleep on it tonight and consider if he wanted to send it or a different one. Usually he didn't care at all. He supposed that in person, women would either talk to him or not, depending upon if they were bothered by the way he looked or not. But you weren't with him in person, and the more detailed the photos were, the more likely you were to dwell on his face now. He really wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

After grabbing an inspired dinner alone in the mess hall, he thought about eating spicy Thai curry on his couch while you and he argued playfully about which movie to watch. Then he thought about you sitting on his lap and maybe even touching his scars which he hoped you wouldn't be bothered by. Then, as he changed to head to the gym, he imagined all the things he thought about but didn't tell you. Like pulling you onto his lap or stretching out on his couch with you lying mostly on top of him. His hand would find a nice resting spot on your back, or maybe even a little lower. His lips would eventually find yours, and the movie would become a distant memory in his mind.

"Shit." Now he was the one who needed to walk a lap before he could even go to the gym. He was already sweating by the time he got there, making it his continued mission to avoid the married woman while he listened to his playlist. He did a few extra reps, knowing you were on dry land in San Diego and wanting to make sure he looked as good as possible. Maybe he could make up for the close up photo of his face with his body.

Without sleeping on it, Bradley went back to the lounge and logged in. He sent you the best photo of the bunch along with two sentences.

Thinking of you, Gorgeous. Tell me about your week.

But he didn't hear back from you right away, and it wasn't for lack of checking his inbox. He hoped you and your students were working their way through the last batch of notes that he'd mailed. Or maybe you were busy and tired from taking them on a field trip. He was hoping there was a reason other than you not liking his bad selfie that meant he didn't get a response. 

Luckily he got busy over the weekend so he didn't have to think about it as much. Each time he climbed that ladder up to his cockpit and waited patiently for his jet to launch from the carrier deck, he took a few seconds to clear his mind and make sure he was focused on the right thing. He needed to survive this deployment so he could even potentially allow his thoughts to go further with you later.

When he made his way back to the lounge after dinner and a shower on Sunday night, he definitely got more in his inbox than he was hoping for. And not in a good way. There was a new message from you, but it was sitting right beneath a second, newer message. From Vanessa.

"What the fuck?" Bradley asked himself, loud enough that the guy next to him turned and glanced his way. It had been months since they'd spoken. Literally fucking months, and she was emailing him now? "No." Sudden panic started to boil to the surface as he quickly tried to click on it, now terrified about what she could be contacting him in regards to.

Hi,

I'm only writing to you because I have a bit of an issue that I need your help dealing with. I can't find my favorite water bottle anywhere. I think it's in your kitchen cabinet, and I just started at a new gym, so I really need it. Let me know how I can get into your house to retrieve it. And please don't take forever to respond to this like you usually do. Like I said, I really need it.

Vanessa

It was a joke. It must be. Bradley double checked the email address to make sure he wasn't being pranked by Nat or somebody else, but no, it was really from Vanessa. 

"A fucking water bottle?" he muttered. He couldn't even picture what she was talking about. Unless it was that ugly, oversized pink thing she used to carry around with her everywhere? The one with the big handle that he joked could double as a weapon? That thing?

What the fuck. He wrote back to her before he even bothered to open the email from you.

Vanessa, it's a water bottle. And it's already been months. Can't this wait until I'm home?

He hit send, rolled his shoulders and took a few deep breaths. He could archive her message so he didn't have to see it again, and he'd just deal with her bullshit later. He would read what you had to say instead, and hopefully it would cheer him up. But after he stood and stretched for a minute and sat back down, there was already a new response from Vanessa waiting for him.

"What the actual hell?" he grunted. He didn't even know what time it was at home, and he didn't take the few seconds to do the math as he started to read.

No, Bradley. I can't wait. It's a $65 sustainable, dual temperature, leak proof water bottle in a limited edition color. And I would like it back. I tried to find a replacement online, but I do not want a potentially used water bottle. Please advise.

He sat there with his fists clenched and his jaw set tight. He literally could not believe her. Anyone else would just use a different water bottle like a normal person, but he knew she'd be on his ass nonstop about this now. The fact that he was going to have to explain this situation to Nat and beg her to go over there with his spare key was almost laughable. He'd probably owe her two steak dinners if he asked her to deal with his ex girlfriend, because she never could stomach Vanessa. 

He sent Nat a quick email anyway with Vanessa's phone number which he had to look up in his phone, begging her to take care of this for him. It would be worth the price of two dinners at this point. Then he settled back in his seat and tapped on your beautiful name, letting the monitor fill up with your words. When he started reading, he forgot he was supposed to feel nervous at what you sent back in response to the close up selfie.

Bradley,

Wow. I didn't think things could improve after the photo of you with your jet and the video where you're speaking. But I was wrong. So wrong. And I'm not upset about it. You're very handsome. The sunset looks okay, too. Now you're the one messing with my head.

I'm sorry I didn't write back immediately, but you should know that your hot photo has taken up residence in my mind. My week involved three of my students getting sick with the flu as well as a bunch of parent/teacher conferences, and tonight I'm really tired. The idea of snuggling, or more, with you on your couch has been playing on loop. I'm giving you permission to hold my hand if we ever meet in person. You have very nice looking hands. You have a very nice looking everything. Would you mind me asking how old you are?

Right, well, we mailed another box back to you on Friday afternoon. My kids asked me to project a photo of a Super Hornet onto the wall so they could have a drawing contest. I finally caved and let them, and they want you to be the judge. And once again, you'll have eighteen individual letters to read. Nineteen if you include the one I put in the box.

On that note, I'm going to take a bath and snuggle up in bed. And you can't blame a girl for looking at that photo again.

Yours Truly,

Your favorite pen pal 

Now this was the kind of thing he wanted in his inbox, not questions about missing water bottles. Bradley hit reply immediately, happy that you hadn't even mentioned his scars. You thought he was handsome in the close up picture? He always figured he was okay enough looking that his height and build made women say he was attractive. But you actually called him handsome. He started typing back to you, already feeling so much better.

--------------------------

After resting all weekend, you were definitely feeling better. You loved your students, but sometimes dealing with their parents was more than you bargained for. Adults were often worse than kids when it came to complaining and exercising patience. All of the conferences from last week were a thing of the past now, but you still felt a little bad for taking so long to write back to Bradley. Especially after he sent you that photo.

Maybe you felt like you had to reel it in a little bit. What was the most that was going to happen? He'd agree to meet you during his short leave in San Diego? Maybe you'd go out on a date? It would probably be the best date of your life. It might even turn out to be the best night of your life. And then he'd leave for another station with the Navy, or maybe he'd return back home, leaving you feeling even lonelier than you did before you inadvertently mailed him that first box.

It was a good thing you had your students to take your mind off things on Monday morning. 

"Are we going to talk about aviation now or after lunch?" Violet asked as she unpacked her pencil box.

You took a deep breath and said, "We're actually going to start a unit on Natural History today." Eighteen pairs of eyes stared at you like you'd completely lost your mind. "It'll be great!"

Oliver's hand rocketed into the air. "Does Lieutenant Bradley also know stuff about Natural History? Is that what we're going to write to him about now?"

Great. Your students were just as attached as you were. "Well since our aviation unit is going to be tapering off, we probably won't need to be writing to him as much now."

"What?" gasped Jayden. 

"No way," complained Nia. 

After that, you tried to move along with your lesson plans, but the entire class just sat there quietly, barely engaged with what you were saying. And perhaps part of it was your fault, because you didn't really feel like teaching this after all. By the time lunch and recess arrived, you felt defeated. You sat quietly at your desk in your empty classroom while your kids played outside, and you ate your lunch while you checked your phone. Bradley had written back an hour ago. Even if you wanted to wait until later to read it, you wouldn't have been able to.

Hey, Gorgeous,

That note from you made my day. I can't wait for the new letters from the kids to arrive so I can spend my evenings writing back instead of absolutely living in the gym right now. You want me to judge a drawing contest? Bring it on. I'm so ready.

I'll tell you how old I am. I wasn't expecting to be so nervous about it, though. I'm thirty-six. You definitely look younger than that. I know it's never appropriate to ask a woman how old she is, so maybe you'll offer that number up without me asking? And maybe you'll tell me that I'm still within the age range of men you let email you regularly? Please?

Not gonna lie, taking a hot bath sounds amazing right now. And snuggling up in something bigger than an extra long twin bed would be heavenly. And thinking about you doing either of those things is enough to get me through the week with a smile on my face. Maybe even through the rest of the month. Maybe even to the point where I'm in San Diego. You'd look adorable snuggled up in your bed. But then again, when aren't you completely Gorgeous?

I'll be waiting for more air mail and another email.

Yours Truly,

Bradley Bradshaw

"Damn it," you groaned, melting back into your desk chair and shoving a cracker into your mouth. Even if meeting him was going to be a one-off, you still wanted to do this. You still wanted to write back to him and flirt and listen to his voice in the video he sent for your class with Marty the mechanic. You wanted to think about him working out on the aircraft carrier. You still wanted him to call you Gorgeous. You'd write back tonight.

-----------------------

Bradley was taking another video and some more photos in the shop with Marty for your class when one of the admirals stopped by. He jumped to attention and addressed him. "Sir, what can I do for you?"

"Lieutenant Bradshaw, you haven't put in for a phone call. Would you like to?"

Bradley just blinked at him for a few seconds. "I don't really have anyone to call, Sir." But that wasn't completely true. He'd never actually asked you about it, but he wouldn't mind calling your number. Which he didn't even have.

The admiral nodded and said, "Just giving first dibs to my high rankers who haven't made a call home yet. Otherwise you're dismissed, Lieutenant."

As soon as he started to walk away, Bradley found himself following along. "Actually, Sir, I may have changed my mind."

If he was already thinking about Thai food and a picnic on the beach for a first date, he might as well just ask you for your number now. As long as you didn't tell him his age was an issue. As long as you seemed keen on the idea of him calling. So he put his name down on the list, and then he started to sweat. He finished up with Marty, and he headed for the lounge.

When he logged in, he braced himself for another note from Vanessa like he always did now, but the only new item he saw was from you. He decided right then that if the vibes still felt right, he'd ask for permission to call you. And yeah, the vibes were feeling pretty fucking good. 

As soon as he opened the email, the attached photo at the bottom pulled his gaze in like a beacon. You were in bed, mostly under the covers, and the thin straps of some sort of tank top were the only thing preventing him from having a completely unobstructed view of both of your shoulders. Your skin looked impossibly soft, too perfect for him to touch with his rough hands, and your expression was playful and maybe a little nervous. He could see the soft swell of your breasts before the blankets enveloped your body in the most comfortable looking cocoon. He wanted to join you there in the worst way, and keep you warm enough that you wouldn't even need that blanket.

His heart was pounding as he started to read your note.

Bradley,

You know, it's funny you should mention that, because my currently inactive dating app profile says I'm interested in men who are between 30 and 40 years old. So you sound kind of perfect to me. And not that you asked or anything, but I turned 30 earlier this year. I hope that's within the age range of women that you let email you regularly.

I'm writing this from my bed. I have attached a photo. I'm not wearing any makeup, and I'm all snuggled in for the night, and of course I'm thinking about you. Whether it's a good idea or not, I find myself frequently thinking about you.

Your favorite pen pal

He scrolled back to the photo and sighed. Oh, he knew it was a good idea. Maybe you just needed a little bit more convincing, but it was definitely a great idea. That first date was looking better and better in his mind. He wished he could give you an estimate on when he'd be home so the two of you could start planning it. Bradley's stomach was growling for dinner as he pried his eyes away from your photo long enough to type out a message.

Hey, Gorgeous,

You're the only woman I'm going to let email me regularly. And I was right. You do look adorable snuggled up in your bed. That photo is going to keep me up at night wondering how cute you'd look in mine...

It looks like I'll have the opportunity to make a phone call soon, and I'd love to hear your voice. If you want to talk. I can't guarantee I won't sound like an idiot, tripping over my words the whole time, but hey, a guy can dream. Will you let me have your phone number?

Yours Truly,

Bradley

And now, once again, he would wait for you to respond, hoping his luck wasn't about to run out.

------------------------

A phone call! She him your number immediately, Gorgeous! There are some things you need to hear him say in that raspy, sexy voice! Thank you @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 6

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[cidandy]

OK DELTARUNE CHAPTER 3 SPOILERS but i'm already coming up with uh..i guess it's a headcanon? ANYWAYS proceed with caution.

OK SO obviously, tenna & spamton do know each other in some capacity for sure. i still have no clue how but for some reason, spamton specifically (& i guess seam kind of too?) knows people from various other dark worlds.

from the vibes i get, i think they totally worked together during spamton's "big shot" era. & they were probably quite close (haven't decided if i like to think of it as a yaoiful thing or like. tenna being an older brother figure or something.) i imagine that tenna has a lot more experience with "fame" or whatever, especially in the past since CRTs like tenna are quite old, an idea that is addressed in game.

also, this is backed up by tenna saying someone (i assume spamton based on context) was going to teach him how newer technology works & he cried about not understanding emails LOL

BUT LIKE. taking all this into consideration, my personal headcanon (which i think is super cute :^)) is that tenna met spamton...somehow when he first started making it big & they sort of worked together! tenna would do the regular TV programs & shows & then spamton would appear in like...the TV ads :^) & i think tenna would probably have to teach spamton how to present on television & things like that since he's new to it &, in return, i think spamton promised to teach tenna about the newer tech in the cyber world. but tenna feels betrayed because spamton just sort of...disappeared. from his perspective, he probably had no idea about spamton being evicted & forced to live in the dumpster. so now tenna feels abandoned & confused by the sudden loss of his business partner. & i think he personifies his fear of abandonment as spamton because of this (like the "my biggest hater" thing in the susiezilla game.)

from spamton's point of view, he might feel betrayed (as we see from the way he talks about tenna in the sweepstakes) because tenna- much like the addisons- didn't really bother to help or look for spamton when he disappeared. he lost everyone all at once. tenna was one of the last people he had left since the addisons stopped talking to spamton when he first became successful. it explains the way he talks about mike too. (omg. this wasn't an original part of the theory but what if spamton feel like mike replaced him or he feels jealous of his dynamic with tenna or something :^O??? just an extra angsty cherry on top.) despite how irrational it is, since spamton never really made it clear what was going on with him & his "helper" on the phone, he still wishes somebody would've noticed & cared enough to help him out. maybe just subconsciously. i think he hides his feelings about it though anger & an unforgiving attitude towards the people he thought he could trust. ogufhfh

there's not a whole lot of merit to this, but a detail i noticed almost immediately was the tenna's suit has the same colors as spamton's during his big shot era! (as seen in this piece of fangamer merch, he is wearing a red suit with a yellow tie.) & i think this supports the idea that they were a duo at some point & i bet tenna (since he likes to live in the past) never changed his outfit. but omg imagine if they matched suits when they were working together ISN'T THAT SO CUUUUTE??? sorry i'm really normal about this.

i think that's all i have right now. feel free to add on or correct anything :^)

[noona-clock]

The Love Playlist - Part 2

Genre: AU, Fluff, Slice of Life

Pairing: Jaebeom x You (Female!Reader)

Warnings: None

Part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6 | Words: 2,815

No matter how hard you thought about it, you couldn't think of a legitimate reason why you couldn't (and shouldn't) go back to the cafe for another latte.

You could certainly think of reasons why you should, though.

It was Monday. Mondays were awful in just about every way.

You were tired. You needed a pick-me-up.

Your regular shop was locally-owned. Another latte meant supporting your community!

The cafe was so close to your office that no one would even know you were gone.

Before you could think of a fifth reason, you were already heading toward the elevator. It didn't matter that it was 3pm -- in fact, it was actually the perfect time for a caffeine boost. Monday at 3pm. Can you think of a worse time during the whole week?

Exactly.

You needed a break, and you needed a treat!

Just a few minutes later, you stepped into the familiar cozy comfort and joined the line at the register (it did make you feel better that you weren't the only one indulging yourself this afternoon).

In fact, the person you got behind in line had a pretty magnificent head of dark, wavy hair and enticingly broad shoulders.

...It had been way too long since you'd had a crush on someone.

Someone real, that is.

I mean, not that DefSoul wasn't real. He was real!

Presumably.

You'd just never met him in person.

Wait, hold on, had you just admitted to having a crush on DefSoul?

I guess you shouldn't have been surprised since the two of you had been exchanging emails for a few months now, and everything you'd learned about him had been so fascinating. The banter had been top-tier. And hearing his deep, smooth voice every night? How could you not fall for him?

The only thing missing was being able to ogle his miraculous head of hair and broad shoulders.

If he had them, that is.

But the person standing in front of you did, so he would have to do!

Suddenly, a new song began playing in the cafe, and you immediately recognized it as one of the songs from the playlist DefSoul had created for you.

"Oh, I love this song," you said quietly to yourself, the corners of your lips pulling into a grin.

The beautiful hair in front of you turned to glance over his alluring shoulders and said, "It's a great song."

"Right!" you replied, ignoring the fluttering in your heart and stomach at the sound of his voice.

And also? You could see just a sliver of his face, but it was enough to know this dude was handsome.

He then turned around almost fully to look at you, and his eyes were so piercing that you nearly took a step back.

"This is one of my favorite artists," he said. "But hardly anyone I know has ever heard of them."

"Really?" you asked, brow furrowing and eyes widening in distress. "That's such a shame, they're amazing!"

A smirk tugged at his lips, and he murmured, "You must have good taste in music."

"I like to think so," you chuckled.

The guy opened his mouth to reply to you, but unfortunately, the person in front of him finished ordering and stepped away from the register.

"It's your turn," you said, nodding at the counter.

As much as you wanted to continue admiring the music with this attractive stranger (and, to be honest, continue admiring him), a handful of people had gotten in line behind you, and you wanted nothing less than to delay others from getting their caffeine.

Attractive Stranger raised his eyebrows in surprise before turning back around and stepping up to place his order.

Just a minute or two later, when you finished placing your own order and stepped aside to wait for your drink, Attractive Stranger (who, thankfully, was also still waiting for his), cleared his throat gently before asking, "Do you have a favorite song by them?"

You were just barely able to keep a delighted smile from curving on your lips -- you'd been hoping he would talk to you again.

"Actually, that's the only one of theirs I know," you admitted with a somewhat guilty expression. "That song is on a playlist I've been listening to non-stop for a while, so I just haven't had time to listen to anything else. But if you have any recommendations, I'm all ears!"

And now that you were more face-to-face with him, you realized just how good-looking he was. His face was absolutely as handsome as the back of his head -- though, let's be honest, more than.

That dark hair you'd studied from the back fell in perfect waves just so over his forehead, ever so gently touching his eyelashes. His features were angular but also somehow soft. And your gaze was drawn to a very adorable and charming freckle on his eyelid.

"I recommend songs like it's my job," he replied with a soft chuckle. "I'm happy to. Do you usually come here around this time?"

Typically, a line like that would immediately give you the ick, and you would reply with a polite but stern, "No" before hastily retreating.

But something about the way this guy had asked you -- and something about the way his face and hair and shoulders and aura was so damn attractive to you -- had you responding quite differently than normal.

"Not usually," you admitted with a somewhat guilty chuckle. "I come here every morning before work -- my office is right down the street -- but I hardly ever come here in the afternoon."

"Got it," he replied.

You tried not to tell yourself that you definitely heard disappointment in his voice.

But you absolutely did.

"I can show you some songs now," he continued. "I just... I like to take my time with music recommendations. But it's --"

"Don't you think Tuesday is the worst day of the week?" you interrupted.

His brow furrowed slightly, but you continued before he could express his confusion.

"I mean, Monday always sucks just because it's the first day of the work week, but if you think optimistically, you could take Monday as being a fresh start. Plus, if you had a particularly good weekend, you can still cherish all the fun you had because it's still fresh in your mind. Wednesday is the middle of the week, Thursday is Friday Jr., and Friday is basically the weekend! But Tuesday? What's special about Tuesday? Nothing. So, I think I may have to treat myself to another latte right around this time tomorrow just to get through the rest of the day."

Understanding dawned on his incredibly handsome face, and a smirk tugged at his lips. "I would have to agree," he chuckled.

A barista set down an iced Americano and a latte on the counter, and the two of you reached for your drinks.

He gestured toward the door, ushering you that way and opening it for you when you arrived.

"So... same time tomorrow?" he asked.

"Same time tomorrow," you confirmed with a nod. And then you remembered you didn't actually know his name and hadn't given him yours. So, you held out your hand to him and said, "I'm Y/N, by the way."

He took yours, and you had to pretend like your breath hadn't gotten stuck in your throat as soon as his fingers touched your palm.

"I'm Jaebeom," he told you.

"Nice to meet you," you grinned. Because it certainly had been.

"Likewise."

As you settled down to listen to Soul Tracks later that evening, you found you couldn't stop thinking about Jaebeom. It was the first time you'd ever struck up a conversation with someone while in line for coffee (at least, a conversation past a few inane words about the weather or what have you), and it was certainly the first time you'd ever struck up a conversation with someone so intriguingly good-looking while in line for coffee.

Plus, you'd made plans to meet up again at the cafe tomorrow, something you'd never done with a stranger you'd just met five minutes prior!

Today had been a momentous day for you! How could you not think about it?

And as the show went on, you were unable to stop yourself from feeling guilty. There was actually no reason at all to feel guilty; you didn't even know DefSoul in person -- or even his real name! -- so it wasn't like you could classify him as a friend. Right? And you'd known and spoken with Jaebeom for all of, what, five minutes? It's not like you were going on a date with him. It was a very casual meet-up so he could recommend you some songs. That's it!

...Honestly, there was a lot to process about this whole thing.

First of all, it felt so wrong to even think that DefSoul wasn't your friend. You'd been messaging him for months now, and you couldn't talk to someone that often without developing a friendship. I mean, you'd told him things you'd been too scared to tell anyone! Of course he was your friend!

Second of all, wasn't it a bit odd that your friendship with DefSoul had started because of his music recommendations for you, and now you were possibly starting another friendship with someone who was recommending music for you?

You didn't think it meant anything, obviously. It was just... odd. Nothing more, nothing less.

But even knowing all of that, why should you feel guilty? Having more than one friend is an extremely normal thing, and it seems pretty far-fetched to think that one can only have a singular friend with a specific hobby. In fact, it would be strange if you did have just one friend who liked music. You, yourself, liked music, and isn't the whole concept of friends kind of based on the idea of having common interests? Not always, of course, but most of the time, absolutely!

All of this to say, if DefSoul somehow found out that you had another friend who liked recommending songs to you, he surely wouldn't be hurt by it. He would just think it's normal!

Because it was!

"So, stop feeling guilty about this, Y/N," you muttered to yourself as you turned the volume up on your computer, hoping that louder Soul Tracks music would drown out your annoying thoughts.

In another attempt to stop thinking about this weird guilt, you started thinking about your reply to the very person whose livestream you were listening to. He had sent you a message the other day, so it was now your turn.

But it didn't take long for you to wonder if you should mention your run-in with a potential new friend at the coffee shop.

Was it something you would tell any of your other friends? Yes, of course. Standing behind someone in line and ending up with plans to meet again the next day was a classic meet-cute! If it had happened to any of your friends, you would certainly want to hear about it!

But DefSoul... was just different. And not even different in the fact that you didn't actually know him in real life.

You had some very close friends. Friends you'd known for decades and knew everything about you. Friends you felt comfortable telling any and everything to.

Your friendship with DefSoul somehow surpassed that. It was probably because it was a lot easier to divulge your darkest, deepest thoughts through words on a screen instead of face-to-face, but he was also just the most incredible listener. Even though you couldn't see him as he read your messages, you could just tell. His replies were always so thoughtful that it was plainly obvious he'd not only read your words but paid attention to them.

So, on paper, you should have wanted to tell him about your coffee shop encounter. He would most likely reply with some insightful advice on what to do next!

But each time you started typing out your reply, it just didn't feel right.

Not telling him didn't feel right either, though.

You briefly floated the idea of not replying to him just yet but tossed that in the trash just about as soon as it appeared. That wasn't an option.

In the end, you settled on mentioning the tiniest hint of the situation and moving on.

Happy(?) Monday!!!!

How did the weekend fly by so quickly 😭 Did you get all of your to-do list checked off? It always seems like you do, but you asked me to hold you accountable, so continue to ask I shall!

I will answer your question later in this message, I promise, but before I do, I have a random one for you: what is your favorite and least favorite day of the week? I was talking to a friend at work about this, and now I'm curious what other people think. Does anyone else in the world have a favorite day other than Saturday? These are the thoughts that keep me up at night!

Speaking of friends at work -- I may have made a new one? We just met today, but it seems like we have pretty similar music taste, so things seem promising. (But lowkey, new friends are scary. Right? It's not just me? Maybe it is. Whatever.)

Now onto your question, and my answer might be surprising: I do think I would quit my job if I won the lottery.

I know. you're thinking 'But Y/UN! I thought your lifelong dream was to work in an office!'

And, yes, that is correct. That's all I wanted to do when I was growing up. And to be fair, I really don't mind the work itself.

It's just the time! Why is the workday SO LONG? Why do I have a scant handful of hours at home before I have to go to bed and get up the next morning to do it all over again? And the weekend being just two measly days? Out of SEVEN? It's borderline criminal.

So, the main reason I would quit my job if I won the lottery is so I could get back this thing known as 'Free Time'! I want more hobbies! I want to volunteer! I want to travel and spend more time with friends and not be too exhausted to deep clean my apartment every Sunday! A part-time job at a cafe or a used bookstore wouldn't be half-bad, either, if I really started to get bored.

And now my random question for you is this: if there were 25 hours in a day instead of 24, what would you do with that extra hour? And you can't say sleep. Let's say the extra hour is between 6 and 7 pm -- after average work hours but before your livestream starts. What are you doing?

Me? I'd probably try to fit in one of those hobbies I was just complaining about not being able to have because of lack of time. Maybe I would read more. Or watch more popular TV shows that everyone talks about. Or maybe I would cook more elaborate meals for myself!

Your turn!

Not too long ago, you had inadvertently started a new tradition of asking a random question each time the two of you messaged each other. You'd just mentioned a question that had been posed to you at work one day, and before you knew it, you and DefSoul were exchanging answers and asking new ones. It was now one of your favorite things about talking to him because you got to learn more about him in a fun, somewhat unusual way. He always seemed to have such thoughtful answers, and you really liked that about him.

But that shouldn't have surprised you -- he spent much of his free time creating bespoke playlists for people based on their life situations. That in and of itself was incredibly thoughtful and required more than a modicum of consideration.

Without thinking, you clicked 'Send' -- and then promptly gasped. His livestream was still going on!

So you scrambled to bring up his latest message again, clicked 'Reply,' and typed out I swear I am listening!!! I didn't mean to reply DURING your show, I just had too many thoughts and had to get them all out before they left!! SORRY!!!!!!!!!

Thankfully, DefSoul was playing a song at the moment; if he'd been in the middle of talking or reading someone's letter, you were certain he would've stumbled on his words or worse, called you out on air. He took his show seriously, and there was nothing you wanted less than for him to think you didn't listen and appreciate it.

Not even a minute later, you received a reply:

Stop talking to me and listen to the show.

But then a few seconds after that:

Kidding ;)

Part 3

[the-nosy-neighbor]

Revisiting Staff Only after Updates

I'm trying to establish who has written all of the notes around Staff Only, and what that means for the story. 

We seem to have 5 options on who could have written the notes: 

WHRP/W 

QA 

QA’s Staff 

Wally 

Other neighbors 

QA seems to have written the notes about the pranks and the notes around telling coworkers to stop messing with stuff.   

The it must be a prank journal entry 

Notes that say “do not write in this book” about the WHRP notebook and their own 

The blacklight notes—I think the all caps is for sure QA, but I'm not sure on all of the notes. 

Lowercase blacklight notes:

This is an interview with questions between QA and the WHRP, but I’m not sure that I could determine for certain which is which.  This email says March 13, and is from the QA to WHRP.  Top line is from and the next is to (checked my email just to be sure).  However, if it were a response, the only way to be certain from just the top of this document--we’d need to see the title.  If it is a response, it should have “Re:” at the beginning.  It is common for a list of questions like this for someone to hit “respond” and then answer the questions beneath each question, for simplicity and clarity.  The use of italics on the question and regular on the answer is a common thing to do, separating the question from the response.   

But if this were WHRP’s response, you’d expect to see WHRP on the top and then QA on the bottom.  Generally, even if it is a response, it is going to have the most recent one on top.  Based on the answers, though, I would guess that WHRP is answering here, because the question specifically asks “how you found one of these pieces” and we know that QA did not “find” any of the original pieces.  Neither did W technically, but QA wouldn’t know that. 

Using this logic, we have an email response from WHRP to QA, which is then printed.  There is no fold to the email like it was mailed, and why would you mail an email response?  This means the only way that this hidden message was added would be at the Playfellow Exhibition space.  So the thing that makes the most sense, given the answer, is that QA is answering their own question in the invisible ink, a staff member wrote it, or Wally  or another neighbor wrote it. 

Wally feels less likely.  We have no indication that Wally is affected by the black stuff.  We do see fingerpainting like marks in the red journal, so maybe indicating that Wally can get covered in it.  Taking Wally as the writer off the table for now, I would assume there are two possibilities: 

1) QA is writing most or all of these messages without realizing it/under power/automatic writing 

2)  Someone on the staff is writing these messages 

I could be going about this all wrong, given that the hidden text reads like the hidden text on the website, “but it hurts” and “the numbers are so hard to read sometimes I can’t see them.”  Also, “When I unwrapped the first letter, I felt it. I heard it. Open. Open. Open .” This text is “everything is so disgusting to touch.  Sometimes the mail doesn’t come for days. I want to rip into everything that I have. My head feels so muddled too.  Ever since I opened that envelope.”  This fits either WHRP or QA, but we are working under the assumption that WHRP could not have physically written the hidden message. QA does mention in an email how quickly they have received the materials, so it stands to reason that WHRP is the more likely author, but the physical reality is still a problem.

So what about the opposite (QA wrote the secret notes on the website)? We know that the QA has access to alter the website, based on Staff Only.   W is very clear that QA did that and questions what happened to make them go crazy. When did WHRP announce the QA?   

3/21/23--QA is announced on the home page “website updates” box (Not there on Jan of 2023) 

July 2022-January 2023, there is only a webpage, the neighborhood, and the guestbook.  So the first instance of the QA mentioned is as we start to see secret messages pop up (the hidden text, not the guestbook drawings, which pre-date QA’s mention), since the page didn’t exist before.  Potentially, QA could have been writing the secret messages on the website from the beginning. (Who is responsible for the letters shifted out of place?)  

Basically from the beginning of the About Us page, QA had access.  On some level, I guess we could assume it was either or both of them, as they are writing the same kind of thing.  Brightly colored envelopes, dizziness and headaches, a building obsession with the material—it kind of doesn’t matter.  The only big material difference is that QA seems to have cracked up by documenting all of the supernatural stuff taking place, while W has become a completely obsessed shut-in on the verge of losing their sight and later turns to documenting the supernatural stuff.  (Could this be related to the blacklight?) 

If I’m going to take it more narratively, and less logically, given the timing and things, I would assume that the “I am so sorry” is either W or QA feeling bad for the people that they have exposed to this ick, while knowing that it was dangerous.  We’ve had WHRP suggesting that this isn’t harmful, but I think that is just willful ignorance on their part.  They knew enough to warn QA, so they know it is bad.  Plus, we see them wearing the gloves with the Joy bottle and with the early image of Julie’s siblings.  And then they drank right out of the bottle, so way to go W.  I think that QA has insisted on the gloves, as is seen in the note on the table: 

They stress the importance of wearing the gloves, “call me if we run out!!!” Plus, we have a used glove on the table covered in black stuff. But they very obviously have ignored the instruction to send back stuff covered in the black, as it is all over the walls and floor, with tendril-like black things around the table. (oh! I have always thought that those tendrils looked like yarn and assumed it was an issue of access to different materials, but given our black flower appears to be made partially of yarn, I wonder if this is more purposeful?)  I’d still like to come back to explore the whole paint roller/paint situation in the staff room. 

The writing in journals that QA is referring to when leaving the passive aggressive notes: 

The House that Home, I think.  Then You You.  Of course, black streaks in the book as well.  They look like fingers. 

With this example, I’d definitely think this is Wally or someone possessed by Wally.  Since we don’t even really know if there are more than QA on the exhibit team, we can’t rule out automatic writing/possession by Wally.  If it is Wally, I would assume this was Wally trying to reach WHRP, unless it wasn’t there when QA first got it.  I think it would be safe to consider anything done in crayon to be Wally. 

I’m just confusing myself more as we go.  Things we can establish through QA’s notes: 

Condition of the book:  W’s journal appears to be written in by someone other than the original author.  We can guess that QA’s notes mean that they at least believe that those weren’t there when the book arrived 

Don’t write in my journal:  Written by QA for sure.  We have no proof of anyone writing in their journal, but it could be labeling everything that they shouldn’t do, because their staff appears to be rebelling—at least in QA’s mind. 

I am going to assume there is a staff.  We don’t have any indicators that this isn’t true, and QA writing notes to an imaginary staff seems a bit out of the expected. 

The questions in the email are answered by WHRP.  This means that WHRP is being very professional and definitely not indicating something is wrong.  It makes very little to no sense that WHRP would have the access to provide the secret writing on the email, so I’m assuming that is QA.  Potentially the staff is all infected, I would assume so.  I don’t think it makes much sense narratively for the staff to write secret language on things like we see.  I suppose it doesn’t matter too much whether it is QA or staff, just QA’s/staff’s level of paranoia is important.   This means that either QA or their staff or both are experiencing the symptoms that WHRP is also experiencing based on touching the black stuff.  I have written a theory about this in the past, on tropes related to black goo and contagion.  The symptoms that we see are:  potential automatic writing, anger, violent tendencies, nausea, forgetfulness, paranoia, auditory hallucinations 

Part 2 coming.

[aishangotome]

Jagasaki Yato: Chapter 4

Chapter 3

♡———��

Several days had already passed since I had that strange—seductive dream of the Mugenro, a pleasure quarter.

Yumeka: Ugh... Is it morning already...?

(Again, I didn't sleep well...)

I forced open my eyelids, heavy as lead, and somehow managed to drag myself out of bed with sheer willpower.

Ultimately, the only time I slept well was on the day I burned the incense, and I was still plagued by insomnia.

(For now, I have to go to work...)

-

Somehow, I managed to get through the morning at work, and after lunch, I returned to my desk.

(After lunch is when the real battle begins...! )

I shook my head from side to side, forcing myself to wake up, fighting off the sleepiness after lunch.

No matter how tired I was, I had chosen this for the sake of my dream.

I couldn't afford to make mistakes and cause trouble for the company.

(I think the attendance management documents from last month are finally finished. All that's left is to get Rai-san's approval...)

After sending an in-company email, I got up to speak to Rai-san directly, but...

(Huh, he doesn't seem to be here... Oh well, I guess I'll put a sticky note on his computer.)

Just as I was about to put a sticky note on the unoccupied desk, a business magazine placed haphazardly in the corner of my vision caught my eye.

( ... —Huh?)

The open page had a tagline that read "An Interview with a Lone Charisma! The Secrets to Business"—

Yumeka: Eh... eeeeeh!?

I couldn't help but let out a small cry and peered into the magazine.

(Isn't the person in this photo that customer who always comes to the café! ?)

Beneath a photo introducing him as a business prodigy was the caption, "Heir to the Jagasaki Conglomerate, Jagasaki Yato."

That cold, sharp beauty was unmistakably that of the customer I knew.

(N-no way, was he the son of a conglomerate...? And his name...)

It was the same as the name I learned in my dream.

(...Can something like this really happen?)

My heartbeat was loud with an agitation different from excitement.

I couldn't take my eyes off the photo, when...

Rai: Is Yumeka interested in business magazines?

Yumeka: ...!

Surprised by the gentle voice that came from right behind me, I turned around to see that Rai-san had returned before I knew it.

Yumeka: I'm sorry! I was looking at something on the desk without permission...

Rai: It's fine. If you're interested, would you like me to lend it to you?

Yumeka: No, it's fine. If needed, I'll buy my own.

Rai: Is that so? ...Actually, the person in the interview is an old acquaintance of mine.

Yumeka: Eh!?

The world is indeed small, but could so many coincidences really happen?

Rai: You look so surprised, is something the matter?

Yumeka: No, um...

Even though there's no prohibition against side jobs, I hadn't told Rai-san about "Tapir" in detail, so I hesitated a little to talk about how he's a regular there.

Besides, I had no idea how to explain the dream anymore.

Rai: ...Perhaps you know Yato?

Yumeka: ...Uh, no, I just thought he was a wonderful person... haha... Anyway, I have documents I need you to approve--

I gave an ambiguous smile and tried to brush it off, but Rai-san, while showing a suspicious gaze, went along with the change of subject.

(Rai-san is really sharp... and kind...)

While Rai-san was checking the documents, I glanced at the magazine on the desk again.

(I... where have I heard his name before?)

If he's a celebrity, there's a possibility I've recognized his face or name from magazines or TV. I just forgot.

(...Yeah. That must be it.)

As if convincing myself, I nodded slightly, alone.

-

That night—after "Tapir" was ready to open and I checked the time, there was still a little time before opening.

(I'll read a little of that magazine.)

I sat down at the counter seat and opened the magazine I had bought on the way home from work.

Yumeka: ...He's really an amazing person...

According to the article, his brilliant career was like a fairy tale from another world.

(...Why do I feel a little shocked?)

(From the start, that customer and I were just a regular and a café staff member... that's all.)

Yumeka: That day, I thought our hearts had drawn close...

I blinked slowly once, closed the magazine, and got off the chair, as if changing my mood.

Yumeka: Alright...! I have to open the shop.

-

——After opening, I worked busily for a while, and then, the doorbell announced a new customer.

Quiet Customer: ............

(! It's him––)

Yumeka: Welcome.

He glanced at me, as usual, then sat silently at the counter seat, holding his book.

Quiet Customer: Whiskey, please. I'll leave the brand up to you.

Yumeka: Understood.

I immediately opened a newly stocked bottle of scotch for him.

I poured a double serving into a rocks glass with a large ice cube, stirred it lightly, and slid it over.

Yumeka: ...Here you go.

He took the glass with his long fingers, lifted it, and slowly poured the amber liquid down his throat.

In front of my eyes, holding my breath and watching, he narrowed his eyes and exhaled softly—his lips curving slightly.

Quiet Customer: ...Not bad.

Yumeka: Really? I'm glad... !

(It was worth carefully selecting it.)

The melancholy I had felt earlier seemed to be cleared up by his one word.

-

And then––time passed in the shop, marked by the rhythm of jazz, and before I knew it, I was alone with him.

(Huh?)

I tilted my head, looking at the glass in his hand.

(What's wrong? His drink is slower than usual...)

Quiet Customer: ...............

(...Could it be that he didn't actually like it, but he was just being polite?)

Trying to discern his true needs, I secretly observed his expression.

(Tonight, his brow seems more deeply furrowed than usual... And he hasn't even opened his book—is something troubling him?)

(I'm curious, but... asking "Is something wrong?" right away would be too intrusive.)

Thinking that, I felt a little guilty that I had unilaterally learned about him from the magazine.

(But, he came here to relax, so I should try to make that happen.)

Looking at him, wondering if there was anything I could do, I noticed his sharp eyes fixed on one spot.

Quiet Customer: ............

Yumeka: Ah!

(I forgot I left that magazine on the counter...!)

Startled, I practically lunged for the magazine, grabbing it back.

Yumeka: I'm sorry! Um, I just happened to see it, and well––

Quiet Customer: There's no need to apologize.

He showed no sign of being offended, and I secretly breathed a sigh of relief.

(Good...)

Yumeka: Jagasaki Yato-san... that's what it said your name is, right?

Yato: ...Ah, that's right.

He—Yato-san—confirmed without changing his expression.

Yato: .............

Yato-san was watching me with eyes that seemed to see through to the depths of my heart.

(Maybe he's wary, thinking I'll try to pry for information or change my attitude because I know his title?)

Perhaps I was overthinking, but there was one thing I desperately wanted him not to misunderstand.

(No matter his title, I value Tapir's customers equally. That's my principle.)

Yumeka: ...Having seen the magazine, I was surprised to find out you're such an amazing person.

Yumeka: I won't pry any further than that, so please relax as you always do.

Yato: ............

The beautiful eyes with sharp edges widened slightly––and then, his head nodded slowly.

Yato: ...Ah.

Yumeka: It's just that I’m happy you understood.

From then on, he engaged in conversation with me, and I was so happy that I almost forgot I was at work.

(Like that rainy night when I confided in Yato-san,)

(This time, he seemed to allow me to get to know the person Yato, and that makes me happy…)

Yato-san's chatter continued.

Yumeka: —Since earlier, the scale of your stories has been so grand, I'm just constantly surprised.

Yumeka: You probably live in a dazzling world that I can't even imagine.

Yato: Dazzling... You could say that. Speaking of dazzling—

Yato: The reception party for the business project I talked about in the magazine interview will be held soon at the Teikyo Hotel.

Yato: Many important people will gather, such as celebrities and politicians involved in this project.

Although he said it casually, the Teikyo Hotel is one of the leading hotels in Japan.

Yumeka: That's amazing... Parties like that are like fairytales, I admire them.

Yato: That's a child's dreamlike impression.

Yato: It's just a waste of time, busy and boring.

Yumeka: But you can experience first-class service, and enjoy food from a first-class chef, right?

Yumeka: If so, then I'm still envious. It would be good for my studies.

Yato-san raised one eyebrow slightly, resting his chin on his hand in a thoughtful manner.

Yato: ...............

Yato: If you're that interested, how about I take you as my partner?

(Eh, Yato-san... does he ever joke?)

Even I, who has no connection to the glamorous world, know that going to a party like that isn't easy.

Yumeka: Of course I'll go!

When I replied with the same casual tone as his...

Yato: I see. Then keep next weekend free.

Yato-san's tone was as serious as ever.

Yumeka: Um... you're serious about taking me to the party, right?

Yato: I don't joke.

(Eh, is he really serious...!?)

Yumeka: No, but, someone like me would be completely out of place––

Yato: That's fine. Rather, it would be convenient to avoid various troubles if I have an escort.

Yato-san showed no signs of withdrawing his offer, and I felt a cold sweat run down my back.

Yumeka: Wait a minute! That's a bit much--

Yato: You'll use me to achieve your dreams, and I'll use you to avoid trouble. That's all it is.

Yato: Or do you want to be a foolish person who throws away a chance presented before them?

His words, stern and dismissive, yet urging me to decide, tipped the scales in my head.

Yumeka: ...I-I understand! I'll go! Please, let me accompany you.

Yato: Ah. Then, see you again.

Yato-san placed money on the counter with a composed smile, then turned his back and left the shop.

Yumeka: ...Um...

In the quiet shop, where no one else was present, I stood stunned, unable to grasp the situation.

(Me, at a party...? As Yato-san's partner?)

And then, several days later...

(What should I do... I'm only going to be less able to sleep.)

Even though I had agreed to accompany him to the party on impulse, my insomnia was accelerating due to tension and anxiety.

(Even though I already lack confidence, if I mess up due to lack of sleep, it'll be unforgivable.)

Yumeka: If I can't sleep tonight, it'll really be bad...

There were only four incense sticks left.

I hesitated, reaching for the butterfly-shaped incense sticks placed near the small dish on my bedside table.

(If I use these, I might be able to sleep, but what if I have that dream again...)

My body throbbed just remembering the sweet stimulation of Yato-san's fingertips, the heat of his lips, and a feeling of indescribable guilt rose within me.

(...But if I continue like this, I'll trouble that person. That's the only thing I definitely don't want.)

Yumeka: ...If there's a chance I can sleep, I should try it...

I said to myself, coughing as if persuading myself, placed the incense stick on the small dish, and hesitantly lit it.

(As expected, it smells good... My heart calms... but)

The thin rising purple smoke enveloped my body.

(...If I have that Mugenro dream again... will Yato-san... be there too?)

Next to my reason, which was putting on a façade, the instinct within me, unknowingly, was moaning for the sweet and fierce pleasure, the kind that plunges me into the white light once more.

(I'm getting... sleepy...)

-

The sense of floating just before falling asleep felt somewhat similar to the peak of pleasure Yato-san had given me––

.

.

.

.

.

Chapter 4 Premium Story

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[silkstatus]

✧   still   here   ,   still   making   things   happen   —   would   azure   isle   even   run   without   𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐗𝐈𝐒   𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐀𝐔𝐃   ?   the   𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐍��𝐘   𝐒𝐈𝐗   year   old   𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐓   𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐂𝐈𝐄𝐑𝐆𝐄   has   been   a   part   of   the   island’s   rhythm   for   𝐎𝐍𝐄   𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐑   ,   ensuring   that   everything   flows   just   as   effortlessly   as   it   appears   .   you’ll   find   her   at   𝒕𝒉𝒆   𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒌𝒔   ,   where   she   handles   every   detail   with   the   kind   of   precision   the   island’s   elite   have   come   to   rely   on   .   she’s   known   for   being   𝒔𝒐𝒄𝒊𝒂𝒃𝒍𝒆   ,   always   having   her   𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐏𝐎𝐃   nearby   —   and   spending   time   at   𝒍𝒆𝒔   𝒇𝒍𝒆𝒖𝒓𝒔   𝒃𝒓𝒂𝒔𝒔𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒆   to   unwind   after   work   .

how   did   you   land   a   position   on   azure   isle   ?   connections   ,   skill   ,   or   luck   ?

❛   tiktok   .   i   know   that   sounds   insane   but   i   worked   at   a   country   club   back   in   california   and   would   post   about   my   shifts   and   i   guess   someone   that   works   in   the   media   slash   publicity   side   of   things   here   saw   them   .   they   emailed   me   three   times   before   i   finally   realized   it   was   legit   .   i   freaked   the   hell   out   ‘cause   what   ?   you   want   me   to   come   work   in   monaco   ?   say   less   ,   i’m   catching   the   first   flight   out   !   i   still   post   my   little   work   vlogs   but   i   have   the   added   bonus   of   living   here   and   i   love   it   .   ❜

what’s   one   part   of   your   job   that   no   one   realizes   is   harder   than   it   looks   ?

❛   some   of   the   guests   are   weird   !   like   ,   you're   bound   to   experience   weirdos   while   working   in   any   service   industry   but   the   way   some   of   these   people   act   …   i   don't   know   ,   maybe   i'm   being   too   judgmental   but   sometimes   i   get   the   urge   to   run   them   over   with   my   golf   cart   .   don't   get   me   wrong   though   ,   i   have   some   regulars   that   i   absolutely   adore   and   they   make   my   job   fun   .   ❜

if   you   could   trade   places   with   a   guest   for   a   day   ,   what’s   the   first   thing   you’d   do   ?

❛   is   everything   too   obvious   of   an   answer   ?   ‘cause   that’s   what   i'm   doing   .   if   there's   time   in   my   day   to   do   it   ,   it's   getting   done   .   but   the   first   thing   on   my   to   do   list   would   be   to   spend   some   money   at   cartier   .   ❜

𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐂𝐊   𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐒   ━   lexi's   bio   (   errrr   i   lied   it   has   one   sentence   )   ,   headcanons   (   now   these   are   done   )   ,   basic   info   (   read   this   if   you're   feeling   lazy   )   ,   wanted   connections   (   and   her   tag   !!   )   ,   and   finally   here's   her   pinterest   <3

[rohirric-hunter]

I made an @ellipsus-writes account yesterday and with one day under my belt here are my first impressions.

It's basically Google Docs, but without being associated with Google. You're able to edit documents from any device with a web browser, which is a lot more convenient than the WebDav server I'm currently using.

Things that are less than ideal:

There aren't a lot of customization options. You can switch between light and dark mode, but I would like to be able to set my document backgrounds to a color. Also it would be better if you could change your view layout. Right now it looks like this:

and I would prefer to have these documents in a list, rather than these big bubbles. The bubbles might be cool if you could change their color or add an image background to them, but as is they're just boring white and taking up a lot of space. I have only 12 documents in this folder and it's a bit silly that I can't see them all at once.

2. You might also notice that these documents appear to be in a completely random order. They're actually in the order I last edited them in. I prefer my documents to be in alphabetical order, and this is an option that exists, but a) when switching to this view it for some reason defaults to reverse alphabetical order and I then have to manually select regular alphabetical order, and b) this setting will not be remembered between sessions.

3. I can't seem to get rid of the, "Need help? Chat with us" popup at the bottom of the page. It takes up an annoying amount of space, and I wish it was collapsible.

Things that worry me:

Instead of having a password system, Ellipsus sends you an email link every time you go to log in. There's nothing wrong with doing it this way I guess, since you can access the link from the same device you're accessing the website from, but it kind of just smacks of being different for the sake of being different. Makes me worry about security. Not that I write anything worth stealing.

Instead of having a normal profile system, Ellipsus uses Gravatar, which is some "universal internet account" nonsense that I will absolutely not be using. This probably won't be a huge issue, though, as I don't really plan on using the collaboration tools, so I won't need to make a profile. I wish I could change my email address, though, as I accidentally used the wrong one to make the account. I might make a new account.

I don't understand how all this is being paid for. There are no ads, the account is free, but the hosting is all done by Ellipsus. While text does not take up a ton of space to host, it does take up some space, and that costs money. Are the creators doing it out of their own pockets? Do they have a donor? Will there be donation drives to support it later? Or will they adopt advertisements in the future or introduce a "premium" option where you can pay for additional features? The last one normally wouldn't worry me, but since it is currently so bare-bones I'm a bit antsy. What if you have to pay for the option to have your documents in alphabetical order by default?

Their advertising is. Vague. I put this off for a long time because looking around on their website there was a lot of talk about how you're a writer and super creative and also they'll never steal your data to train AIs, but it was really hard to find a place where it outright said what the product was. This concerns me because it makes me feel like the company has something to hide.

Good things:

It's a platform that does the same thing as Google Docs without actually being Google Docs. This is a powerful pro. I'll probably keep using it for now.

Oh yeah and they don't have an app. A few years ago this would have gone in the less-than-ideal section for me but these days with the way app stores are about user generated content it's probably best to avoid the whole thing. I followed their suggestion to set a link on my homescreen (through Firefox) and it works very well. I was worried it might be laggy (Tumblr was laggy when I used it through Firefox) but it's been very responsive. No server access if you're not connected to the internet, but if you have the document already open then you can keep typing into it and it will update when you reconnect. This is the same way I used Google Docs back in the day and perfectly serviceable in my opinion.

[voxofthevoid]

TAKING THE FLESH CHAP 4 TAKING THE FLESH CHAP 4 ‼️‼️ EVERYBODY GET TO IT ‼️

i finally had time to sit down and read all four in one go and i’m still riding the contact high hours later

do you have days of the week that you prefer posting? i’m curious about if there’s a day you favour or if there’s a well-known “best” day to post etc etc

outside of that, i hope you’re well and enjoying being back at your own place. sorry about the cheese and the fridge rip — 🐀💪🏻

I SAW YOU! Have already chewed on your comment ~3 times. I will do it again 🙏

I'm also very glad you enjoyed the Nanami hole fare!

The cheese got yeeted with extreme prejudice, but I ended up having the fridge professionally cleaned. Better safe than sorry 😬

As for posting days, I no longer have any particular schedule for those. Years ago, during the height of my activity in the MCU fandom, I used to post on Wednesdays regularly. I can't remember why I picked that day—might have been because Wednesday was often my least busy weekday throughout my master's program. That didn't survive my transition into the workforce. Actually, it might have stopped even earlier, given that said transition happened in 2020.

For a while after, I just posted whenever I could manage for MCU and then Bleach. I resumed monthly updates for JJK because it was clearly early on that my writing was going to outstrip my posting fast. Plus, I freelance now and set my own schedule, so I actually have the time and energy for regular updates. But the Wednesday habit got axed for good—even my current WIP Wednesdays weren't a thing until I was on my fifth JJK fic.

Nowadays, I give myself a date range for each update, and I post whenever I can manage within that range (usually). The only consistent factor is that I post right before I sleep—and this is so I won't keep checking my email going "comments 🥺?" every half an hour. Sleep is supreme.

But I also don't have a consistent sleep cycle. It shifts every day, actually, because I am insane. So you'll see me update at every hour of the day on every day of the week.

...I do confess to an aversion to Mondays though. Blame years of schooling and the typical work week for that. Monday in general just feels like a Bad Day, even now that all days of the week are pretty much the same to me. But I'll still post on Monday if the mood strikes.

As for well-known best days, I keep seeing different people say different things whenever this comes up, so my best guess is that it depends on each fandom. If the fandom is slow enough, it won't much matter—unless your fic is at risk of vanishing from the first page within a matter of hours, people will find it sooner than later. Subscriber emails also tend to land within an hour or so, though when people open/read those is another matter—and probably too variable to consider in any meaningful manner. I'm no statistician though! This is all anecdata and vibes ✨

[heresiae]

what I can't understand about some reviewers on Google, is why, why aren't you more specific about your bad experiences?

are you afraid that they will come and tell you "but we told you!" and force you what? to feel ashamed that you didn't have a good time? you had a bad experience, you are entitled to write about it (you actually have to do it. and no, they didn't tell me, they just told me in an email that I could park my car in the discotheque parking lot, without specifying shit and they told me the day I arrived "we have a discotheque in front of us" which doesn't mean much if you don't also add that it's a frigging open air discotheque; they're not common so say it).

if someone had wrote something more about the discotheque in front for my first camping on the seaside that wasn't just "the discotheque on the front..." (yes, that's the review, with full stars) but like, I don't know, "the discotheque in front is the open air type and the music is so loud you can't sleep at night" I wouldn't have even considered that camping site, but the pictures on the website were nice, full of olive trees and I though "I guess I'll just hear the thump thump in the nights" (there were also a couple of good reviews that I can't understand, for the life o me, how could they have a good time, because ok, the bathrooms are very clean but also very very old and impractical).

nope. not only those tent plots no longer exists anymore, but it's impossible to sleep for the noise. there isn't a nice hill covered by olive trees anymore, it's a residence with dozens of little houses and you can pitch a tent in the spaces they weren't able to build on (and the tenants act like they're in their regular houses with no regards for other people necessity of not hearing all their discussions).

all of this to say that I just spent half an hour to rate very specifically both camping sites in that town (I ran away the next morning; in a haste) because I don't want anyone else to ever think that the first one not only is a good camping site, but it's a camping site.

I only wish I had taken photos of the first one because my description is pretty dreadful, but a picture would have tell it even better.

[posttexasstressdisorder]

And a touching word from Bob Lefsetz:

https://lefsetz.com/wordpress/2023/12/12/jeffrey-foskett/

"

Jeffrey Foskett

He was a really good guy. And I’m not just saying that because he died.

I knew who Jeffrey was before I knew him. He was the guy on stage with Brian Wilson, the one hitting the high notes, the one who turned his big red guitar around during the show so we could see where it was painted “Smile.”

But I don’t remember exactly how we met. Maybe over e-mail. I could comb the archives but I don’t want to, I’m too creeped out that he died.

He was sick. Diagnosed and originally treated in the Bay Area he went to MD Anderson in Houston and they kept him alive, year after year. He’d check in on a regular basis, apropos of nothing. Tell me he was getting treatment, asking how I was and really wanting to know.

Before that we’d connect at shows. I remember when he took me to meet Brian on the tour bus. Prepping me regarding what to expect.

And the last time I saw him was with Mike Love, a few years back at the Vilar in Beaver Creek. He introduced me to Mike Love and Bruce Johnston and we all had a very interesting hang in the dressing room.

And Jeffrey was not a typical musician, he was clean, and always was, no dope and no drink. And a believer, as in religion. But you wouldn’t know all this if he didn’t tell you. And he’d had bariatric surgery, he used to weigh over 300 pounds, he’d reference this now and again. That was the funny thing about Jeffrey, he held nothing back, either about himself or those around him. He would testify not in a gossipy way, but an honest way, as if you were buddies since second grade.

And then he had to go off the road, because of his treatment, but then he went back out, even though he could no longer sing.

Let’s see…

Jeffrey checked in on February 11th, and that was the subject of his e-mail, “Checking in”.

And then again on March 3rd. 

And on March 20th he said:

“I am praying for your health. Interestingly, my pre infusion drugs are Tylenol, Benadryl and Pepcid. Benadryl must be the key to no nausea.

I hope your pemphigus is under control and that you are comfortable.

Thank You for supplying me with interesting reading in the LL.

Stay Healthy. God Bless You

Jeffrey”

And on June 20th:

“Just checking in after reading ‘The Infusion’. Is your pemphigus at least under control to where you are comfortable to sleep, walk, drive, etc.?

I am doing great. For me, there is no better place than MD A. They are keeping me thriving

I’m still praying for you my friend

Love and Blessings – Jeffrey”

And on July 24th, regarding antisemitism:

“Hi Bob,

I am a Stone Christian. Jesus Christ is my Lord and Savior. Are these emails for real? I am so thoroughly disgusted that I want to crawl into a hole. From our private email exchanges, You know that I pray for you and your ongoing health situation on a daily basis. The person that wrote this garbage is a stain to all of humanity. On one hand I am grateful that you published them on the other, it literally sickens me. What happened to the world? I guess I have been so caught up in healing that I have ignored other truly important aspects of my surrounds.

I am sorry for the personal attacks on you and your Religion. It is disgraceful. My heart literally hurts

God Bless You – Jeffrey”

Where do you find friends like that? Believe me, they’re rare. And when one is that genuine, thinking of you, regularly checking in, you have an ethereal bond that goes beyond regular friendship.

When I heard of Jeffrey’s passing I thought I’d heard from him more recently, in October or so, I was surprised to find his last missive was in July. Which makes me think he had a rough time of it. And one thing they don’t tell you about cancer is it’s painful. But Jeffrey had such belief in MD Anderson that he convinced me, after years of treatment on a regular basis, that he’d be here for years to come.

But he’s not.

And many people have no idea who Jeffrey Foskett is. But those he touched, they’ll never forget him, because he was genuine, because he was a good guy. Fake was not in his bones.

What angers me most is he can’t read this, he can’t know how much he meant to me, how he touched me. 

I don’t know what to do with this empty feeling. My contemporaries are dying on a regular basis. It used to be a rare event, usually through misadventure, but now… You can’t metabolize these passings. Some before their time, like Jeffrey, at 67, others like Christine McVie, who didn’t make it to 80, never mind Jeff Beck. And then Ryan O’Neal. We bonded over having CML. He was a funny guy, he lived in the present, if he brought up the past it was like you’d been there together. He was honest about his son, he had to show me his Tesla Model X, and now he’s gone at 82. That might seem old to some, but if you’re a boomer, if you’re past Medicare age, that’s scary. You count on those years, you think you’ll be active until sometime shy of 90, and then you won’t be so great, but you’ll continue to enjoy TV and a good meal and music, if you can still hear. We keep pushing finality into the distance, But one by one team members are falling by the wayside. They might be gone, but their legend lives on, even if they were not famous.

So if you’ve been to a Brian Wilson show, if you’ve seen the Beach Boys in the past decade, you experienced Jeffrey Foskett. He was the glue that held it all together. The utility man who provided what the legends no longer could. And he didn’t want notice, he was glad to be the midwife for some of the greatest music of all time.

Yes, first and foremost Jeffrey Foskett was a Beach Boys fan. The fact that he got to play with his idols?

You can’t ask for much more than that.

He was cut down before his time, but he exceeded his dream.

May he live in an endless summer ever after."

---------

[meretrifles]

Public Library of Ruina - Yesod

I still dither a little about Yesod. He's either Information Technology, Information Services, or both. Both feels a little self-indulgent, but it's kind of what I want.

Information Technology is basically regular IT-- have you tried turning it off and back on again. The library doesn't add a huge amount to that-- more databases, a website, shitty civic budget, unpredictable public users. You're gonna replace a lot of keyboards. (You should probably take the ones where people rearranged the keys into swear words out of service. Or at least fix them first.)

Information Services is, at this point, extroverted IT. Back in the day, this was the department that specialized in "reference" questions-- the weird stuff. People would ask librarians for all sorts of weird facts in the pre-google days. It does still happen, but less and less every year as search engines become ubiquitous and the people who remember that was a thing slowly die off. Still, reference will never completely die. People are always going to come to libraries with weird questions; that's kind of the point.

So why am I calling it extroverted IT? Because that's the primary function. There's the fairly obvious part-- people sometimes need help searching the catalogue or reading e-books. But here's the less obvious part. Myrtle has a new laptop, but she's not sure how to do anything with it and her kids all live hours away. Who's she going to call? Who can help people learn how to use technology? Without many other options, the answer frequently is-- the library.

Think everyone has a cell phone? Ask a public librarian. We know there are still plenty of people without a phone or with a secondhand POS with no sim card. Curious what happens if someone can't remember their gmail password? If you're prepared to deal with a post-traumatic response, ask a public librarian. Have you ever tried to help someone with no available cell phone recover their google account? It would probably save a lot of time if we could just tell them at the start they're SOL. But maybe they can remember the password, and technically there's a reset function that might work in a few days if you're approved.... Fun times when you're dealing with an upset person who can barely type on a good day and has just lost a ton of personally valuable and literally valuable information, probably forever. Think 2-factor authentication is great? It sure is, if you have a second factor. We have a list of free email sites that don't require you to already have an email address or a cell phone. It's hella short. And we took one off cause it was too Russian. Protonmail is a good bet if you can remember passwords. Which is a significant if. Some people just can't. Which is OK if you can save them on your computer. Oh, you don't have one and you have to use public devices all the time? Well, write it down and hope it doesn't get stolen and that you can remember which one is which. (Have you already guessed that sometimes people ask librarians to remember their passwords for them?)

In short, the library also serves as a public IT department, for services and devices it has zero control over.

Whether he's internal or public IT support, Yesod is also going to snap. Though, he will also have access to an abnormality that can affect people outside the library, which is a nontrivial perk. He will use it exclusively on vendors. I am hoping some of his bullets bend space and time to successfully hit whatever asshats decided it was OK to build the entire backbone of library ebook lending on Adobe Fucking Digital Editions, an old ass program with literally zero support. It would seem impossible for them to still be shackled to it in the City, but it also seems impossible that we're still shackled to it now, so I'm pretty sure the ultimate capitalist dystopia couldn't let it die.

Hmm? My specialty? I'm a reference librarian. Why do you ask?

[josephthesnailshow]

This photo was taken from a website known as 1092paradise.com, but it ended up being used on this website. This face on the website is named White Man, the head admin on the web. Though, unlike 1092paradise.com, this website is a threat.

There’s a website called Parasites.org, and it’s claimed that when you first enter the website, it automatically asks what your name is, bank account information, and other personal stuff like your address. Not doing so will not do anything to you, but if you put in your information, it shows up with the following text:

Thank you, customer! Enjoy your parasites! ;)

And it directs you to the main part of the website; it’s a shop that includes, as you guessed, parasites, which can be anything: ticks, bedbugs, tapeworms, and leeches, notably human parasites; each of them costs a small price with the following text on top that says “No Refunds!” It also comes with an illegal drug that contains an organ-eating parasite.

You can also use the contact forum for chatting with the people who run the website. The people are friendly, greeting people like a regular employee does, but when you ask for assistance with White Man, he automatically shows up; he has a profile picture of an evil smiling white face with sharp teeth, followed by two black itty-bitty dots on the eyes.

Here’s what he says:

White Man: Hello, thanks for asking for my assistance! How could I help you?

You have two options. You can reply with “my drug isn’t coming!” or “what do you do with my address?”

If you pick “my drug isn’t coming!” You will be forced to buy the drug again, even if you didn’t buy it. The White Man also says that if you don’t buy the drug, he will come over to your house and end your life.

If you pick “what do you do with my address?” He responds, “It’s our company policy; if we don’t get your address, we can’t mail the drugs or parasites to you.” Though, when you buy something from Parasites, someone at Parasites.org will email you back and say the following short text:

“Hello! Thanks for shopping at Parasites.org; your parasite or drug will arrive in 3 days! Check your mailbox daily, and give us a message on our website if you don’t find anything there.

Have a wonderful rest of your day, night, or evening.”

After 3 days, the item will arrive in the mail, and it will be inside a box. Upon opening, it will contain some blood from someone and a bit of fluid with the drug or parasite in the middle, and every order will contain a note inside that contains a link that, upon typing in the search engine, will direct you to a texting UI where, with darkness in the background, the text says the following:

“Hello! Thanks for buying our product; we will do whatever you want us to do. If you want us to kill an enemy of yours or anything, type that in the box underneath. Though it’s recommended If you don’t include your name, the same thing will happen to you.”

This is where the website goes downhill, and the entirety of it will lead to the main reason why it got removed.

According to the victims list, it says that your enemy will be stabbed to death, and sometimes the employees will record their murder and make a snuff film out of it. If you put your name instead, it’s more graphic.

Your death will be either getting shot or they will put a maggot on your body so it can dig into you and lay eggs inside of you. They usually shoot you afterwards as they want you to feel the most pain.

As of now, luckily, the site's owner and the other employees ended up getting arrested, and the website got deleted altogether, but there’s something on the corpses that didn’t get answered yet and should be answered.

“Let them eat what’s inside of you :)”

[donnerpartyofone]

I don't know when this started happening, but it seems like I increasingly cannot get certain medications by just going to my pharmacy anymore. There's a whole bunch of stuff that my doctors now have to (for some reason) route through a "specialty phramacy", which is actually a startup-y online business with a cute little app I have to use, and they take care of both delivery (meaning every time I need my meds I have to add $5 to the price tag in order to tip the delivery guy, since I can't just go to a place and I refuse to not tip) and also they seem to have a lock on insurance pre-approvals, like if my insurance company needs an OK they can't or won't get it straight from my doctor anymore. In June, I didn't deal with any of these companies, just my regular old pharmacy. As of a month later, I have to deal with THREE of these "specialty pharmacies" if I want all my meds, so I have to keep track of different apps and logins for individual scripts basically. And I mean, TWO of these companies are connected to ONE of my doctors, so that's how well this whole thing is going. Here's today's adventure with the latest one of these things:

I get a text message from the actual physical pharmacy (also new to me) compounding my new medication, and the message includes a link to log into the specialty pharmacy so I can pay for the medication and schedule delivery. The specialty pharm is called Nimble. I open the link in a browser and get all the way to the part where I give them my email address "so we can send you your receipt", and I can't go any further because apparently my email address is already attached to an existing account. It wasn't clear to me that I was setting up a new account, I thought I was just completing a transaction...and also I don't remember Nimble, but I guess I must have used them a long time ago, so ok fine, I'll start over and try to log in first. Now the text message link just opens an error page. So I go to Nimble's home page and try to log in from there, and it asks for my email address so it can send me a "magic link". Every single magic link it sends me is preemptively "expired", and it also appears that I'm not actually getting a new one when I request it, it kinda looks like they're just forwarding the first email over and over again? 15 minutes later I receive a text telling me to download the Nimble app, which I REALLY don't want to do just on principle--plus apparently the app shows fucking ads, so they're getting paid to force me to do this--but like, maybe this is the only way to get my medicine? I won't even describe all the complications I had just downloading the app, we can just skip to the part where the inside of the app is exactly the same as the browser version and it is magically sending me the same expired "magic link". So I click into the help chat thing in the app, and I learn that:

Whenever the fuck I used Nimble before, it was under my maiden name. My email address is locked to my maiden name. My current script is under my married name. I am still using the same email address, but there is no technical way to merge the accounts and apparently there is no way for a customer to simply update the spelling of their own name that they use in real life, even though this might have to happen at any time for many reasons including typos. I could have given them my private email address instead of the old one that I give to scammy businesses when I'm forced to, but since WHY THE FUCK would I do that, the solution was for customer service to go into the back end and put a fake email address in my old account, and add my real email address to the new account. No online account I've ever had has been set up like this, where you can't put in your email address or phone number and update something like a password. There was also no way for me to independently enter my name first, even though that is the key unchanging piece of information the way phone/email is normally, and ultimately, there was no way for me to find out what the problem even was without like penetrating to the center of the labyrinth to have it explained to me why I wasn't allowed to get my meds.

I'm on Tumblr like 24/7 and it's obvious that I'm no luddite, but I'm really angry that the whole world has bought into the idea that as long as some system is based on new technology, then it is automatically more efficient and superior to whatever we used to do. This entire experience is NOT superior to me physically walking to my pharmacy and getting all my meds, and it is STILL NOT superior to me calling the physical pharmacy to pay over the phone and book a courier. We need to stop pretending that shit like this is making our lives better just because it feels shiny and new; now it's just like, if I wanna do something totally normal that I'm dependent on doing--like getting drugs that I might need to live as far as all these assholes know--I have to appease some 3rd party alien entity that does not contribute in any way to the success of the process or the quality of the outcome, it's just this random extra burden that takes so long to get through that they should honestly pay me to do it. Because right now I'm fucking sitting here doing this shit like it's my job, and it absolutely is not.

In this case customer service was actually helpful when I finally got to them, but basically they shouldn't have been necessary at all. Everything else about the situation was so fucked up that it reminded me of the single worst customer service experience I've ever had: I used to have a REALLY shitty Lenovo laptop (I didn't realize that "basic" and "simple" now just means "doesn't work"), and one day the Start menu got stuck open. It was fully expanded across my entire desktop, so I couldn't get to any of my shit. I had to spend about an hour talking to a service person who, it turned out, had NO IDEA what I meant by "desktop". I could not get the idea into her mind. I did a screenshare with her and she was like "Yeah I see all your applications, everything is there, what's the problem?" I could not get her to understand that it was INCORRECT for the menu to be permanently open and I couldn't get her to understand what it was blocking. I found myself typing crazy shit like "So the Desktop is like, ya know, it usually has a picture you picked out as the background, and there's little icons for programs you use or stuff you downloaded, there's always the little trashcan thing there..." and she just would not admit that she knew what I meant. It was as if she had never used a computer before. And like I don't even remember how I fixed the problem, I stopped using that machine obviously--but to this very day, there's a part of my brain exclusively devoted to running an endless background process that asks, "What's the best way to describe a computer desktop display to someone who has never seen or heard of one before?"

[beingdreeyore]

How messed up is it that I slept more on night shift than I have now I'm back in my regular job?

This week they've got me covering three teams as well as assisting with jobs that the inpatient registrars are meant to do. Oh, and there's also the chief registrar stuff. Part of what's keeping me awake is how furious I am that this has all been dumped on me and I know that when I raise it, the response will be that I'm being difficult. I still care what they think of me even though they've communicated clearly that they see me as nothing more than someone to dump work on.

I've checked with the registrar who had this job before me and she said they did try this a little bit with her but her supervisor was good enough to push back really hard. When she heard from someone else just how much I was being expected to do she was shocked. My supervisor is new and isn't ready to upset anyone by raising the issue.

I've been told to send an email today. So I guess I will. Email is their preference as it allows them to respond slowly. They'll make a show of fact-checking everything in it even though I've never lied. They'll say they need to consider their options. They'll drag it out.

I'm so angry and frustrated with the system. I'm so exhausted from trying to just survive in it. I'm sick of having to set boundaries that workplace policies and job descriptions have already made clear. Why do I have to send an email pointing out to them that it isn't realistic to have me covering multiple doctors every single day??

The more time that passes the more clear I am that if I could go back in time, I never would've gone to med school. I hate this job. No one should have to work in an environment like this.

[thessalian]

Thess vs Knowing Your Employees

I'm not doing very well, and I think everybody knows it. Like, not people who read my Tumblr or people I talk to on Discord or anything like that. I mean everybody.

Update on the overtime thing - apparently today was a fairly slow day in terms of reporting, so when I called at 3:30 as I was asked to, there were only about 130 dictations in the queue.

(Note: that sounds like a lot, and it is, but it was 450 on Tuesday.)

Things were chill enough at the office that Scruffman actually forgot he asked me to ring him to check in about the workload. I think that might have something to do with having emailed him a little earlier in the day about a significant issue with someone's dictation.

(Further note: our doctors use wireless headset microphones to dictate - Bluetooth, I think. Anyway, sometimes they end up sitting too far from their computers for a decent connection, and when that connection dies, the transcription software defaults to using whatever microphone is handy - which in our machines means one built into the webcam. And of course, if they're sitting so far away that the wireless connection won't work, they're not going to be very audible over lab noise either. Bad enough when it's a regular dictation, but there were two urgent cases I had to send back because they were inaudible and you don't make guesses about someone's urgent liver biopsy. I swear, half the doctors don't have the foggiest clue how to use the equipment and it shows.)

Anyway, point is, I actually had voice chat with the man. I can generally sound pretty professional under even the worst circumstances, but that's only to people who haven't dealt with me regularly. Scruffman has heard my "I am in serious pain and sucking it up" voice a lot. And to his credit, I'm pretty sure he noticed me using it. Because when I asked if I was going to be needed for overtime with our typing queue as it was, he said, "It's actually been really quiet, so we should be okay! I mean ... some of them do go crazy in the late afternoon ... and sometimes they come in on Saturday ... but no; no, you're fine on your regular hours; we'll be okay".

In those elliptical pauses, I could hear the "Oh [Thess] does not sound well. Even if we're not fine, I can push [Temp] and [Goblin] a little harder on Monday, or we can work it out after [Thess] has had an actual break." I mean, I'm sure he does actually care, but there's also an awful lot of "Working [Thess] this hard is going to result in more sick leave and we really can't afford that right now, particularly not from the best worker the department has right now", and more than a little "[Thess] got reduced hours because of a disability and if [Thess] has to go on long-term sick again, Occupational Health is going to eat my head". So not purely altruistic motives, but at least he noticed.

That said, I'm still not doing well. While I did not have overtime, I did still have to go out to pick up some painkillers and a couple of bits and pieces. A bad idea during rush hour, but needed to get to things before they shut. Painkillers aside, I forgot to order carrots and I like carrots in my Japanese curry, which is very much on the menu this month. Carrot, potato, onion, and butternut squash. Might fill it out with some sweet potato too this time.

I did treat myself a little, though. Slightly longer travel time hurt, but it meant going to the big Tesco that does the gluten-free onion rings. And sirloin steak was on sale. So guess what I had for dinner? (Well, with potato salad and some veggie crudites with ranch dip; veggies are good.) It was a much-deserved treat, and thankfully didn't require a lot of effort.

I'd love to say I'm going to just relax tomorrow, and I sort of will, but if I have to go to the pharmacy for my prescription meds if I wake up early enough, and either way I should go to the big Sainsbury's to stock up on gluten-free pasta. It's a pain in the arse; Tesco has a great range of gluten-free products but their gluten-free pasta is bullshit, while Sainsbury's doesn't have quite the same selection but does the only really edible own-brand gluten-free pasta I've found so far. I hate having to go to like three different shops to get a full gluten-free shop stock-up.

Anyway, also there might be baking. I'm going to have to order more gluten-free flour already. But then again, two cakes, one loaf of gingerbread, and a batch of chocolate chip cookies and I'm still not through the entire bucket. So that's something.

To summarise: I am not doing well, I'm still using Saturday for as much recovery as possible (sad as missing a Saturday session makes me, I would not run well in this state), and I want cookies.

[literaticat]

Hi Jenn. A publisher that mostly publishes younger books (but may also publish some adult/older titles too) is looking for submissions for stories suitable for those "aged 8 - 18". My project is (mostly) adult BUT some readers/agent think sounds young/could work as YA or YA crossover or New Adult. I'm thinking of submitting even though it might not be a fit. I've also thought about revising the book to make it more suitable for YA but don't have time before the submission closes (and they're not regular sub windows so it might not come up again for a long time). Do you think I could include any sort of covering letter/query that explains any of this and points out there are elements/themes that are suitable (and may even be ideal) for what they're looking for (in addition to ages 8-18) and I'd be willing to rework it further, but don't have time before the window closes. What kind of wording could I use? And is there any chance they'd still consider it if they liked the general idea/elements of it?

LOOK INTO YOUR HEART. If you've written a grownup book, it's probably not a fit for a publisher that almost exclusively does younger books and who is specifically asking "for 8-18", aka, MG and YA. Like, maybe a 16-18 year old would also enjoy it -- but that doesn't mean it was written FOR a teen audience, or that MOSTLY teens would like it -- and I think you know that "well it feels young" is pushing it. Like, you also say that you "want to revise" -- that implies to me that you KNOW it's not really suitable as it stands., right?

But maybe I'm wrong, I have no idea what publisher this is or anything else, you're going to have to use your best judgment. You ask, can you put a cover letter or something to explain yourself? I think that's a good idea for sure, but also,, don't know what the guidelines are, so you tell me. If it says NO COVER LETTER or something, I guess not? But that would be weird. Surely they want an email or a letter or something "query like" -- so just explain in that letter / email / query what the work is and why you think it IS a good fit.

Will they look at it? Sure, I guess, if you follow the submission guidelines. Will they seriously consider it "if they like the general idea/elements of it" if it is otherwise not really appropriate? I'd say not really, because I'd imagine that they will have dozens/hundreds/thousands (???) of submissions to choose from that already ARE appropriate.

BUT, what do I know?!