#I NEED IT TO BE 223 MINUTES ACTUALLY

[stormyoceans]

SEA BEING A LIL MENACE UNDER THE TABLE IS JUST SOOOOO 🥺😭

[bigwishes]

Big Man on Campus

(a trade with @alphajocklover)

Trent had been going to college for almost 4 years at this point, he was 21 and steadily approaching his 22nd birthday and approaching his graduation even faster. He had spent most of his time inside, working on his computer engineering degree or gaming. He didn't really care for the college party scene, he'd much rather stay in his tidy little single all weekend until monday classes.

but when it finally sank in how close it was to being over Trent couldn't help but have a little bit of regret, should he have hit the gym with the other guys on his floor? should he have joined the casual rowing team just for some fun and exercise? was computer science really what he wanted a degree in? Senior doubt and regret flooded his mind, but there was still an upside. 4 months were left, 4 months he'd make the most of.

Trent went on the college forums looking for something to do, he thought about a few of the options but found two that he really liked. The first was a dungeons and dragons club the second was listen as an exercise club but it also seemed to be a project for two sport science students.

Transformation Experiment Ground: "Our names are Brody and Clark, we are looking for young males on campus who are out of shape looking to get in shape and help with our experiment. Come form a sense of community, get the body you desire and help us with our research!" Monday came and classes went. Normally Trent would go home and smash out a few ours gaming but it was time for his clubs to start. First he had the sport experiment thing, the only issue was he only had a few minutes to get to the dnd club across campus, but he wasn't sure how sweaty he'd get or if he'd need a shower. He just had to hope there was a shower at the campus gym.

Trent checked his phone, he thought he was going to the campus gym but the address was for a room in the athlete scholarship dorms. Trent walked passed the gym and into the building next to it. The halls had photos of previous college athletes plastered up between the doors.

Finally he arrived, right on time, room 223. Trent raised his hand to knock when the door suddenly swung open. Standing before him was a jacked guy with spiked blonde hair in a black tank and grey sweat pants and standing next to him just slightly down the hall was an equally jacked dude with shaggy brown hair in the same outfit.

"hey bro what's up I'm Brody and just over there is Clark"

Brody stuck out his hand but when Trent went to shake it he realised Brody was waiting for a fist bump not a hand shake, Trent awkwardly closed up his hand and bumped Brody's fist. Clark let out a douchey laugh that echoed out the door.

"Come in man, come in"

"You are, the only one comin" Clark sighed

"oh, was I the only one who signed up?"

Trent started to get anxious, guys who looked like this normally bullied him and now he was going to be on his own with them for an hour. Trent made his way into the room, following Brody and Clark.

The athlete dorms were so much bigger than the other rooms he'd been in. There was a large lounge space with a small kitchen, a door to a private bathroom and two bedrooms either side of the lounge.

In the corner of the lounge there was a small fold out chair and table. On the table were 5 green vials and what looked to be an oculus rift stripped down to its basic components.

"so ummm, where do we start with like a workout plan?"

"nah dude, I mean I can totally write you one but this is a bit more of a series of practice experiments" Brody said as he walked over to the small table

"get him hooked up man, I'm gonna grab my laptop with the video"

Trent followed Brody over to the small fold out chair

"its nothing too fancy but our class mates got the actual sports lab, apparently our experiment is pseudo-science"

"what exactly are you guys studying?"

"we are trying to see if active suggestion and nutrients redirection can get people to actively pursue fitness"

"oh damn, I just thought this was like, a workout class" Trent sat down as Brody began setting up the make shift visor. "if you don't mind me asking, what are you guys majoring in?"

"well I'm getting a double major in bio-chemistry and psychology"

"and I'm getting a double major in computer engineering and software development" Clark said as he walked back in carrying an open laptop

Trent's jaw almost dropped to the floor, he'd come here thinking he was going to be made to workout by two dumb jocks who were just going to scribble times on a napkin, but instead he's participating in a proper experiment designed by two people probably leagues smarter than him.

"okay man its real easy, we are gonna hook up an image display for a few minutes and you'll take a shot of this" Clark said as he handed over one of the small green vials.

"errrr, is it safe?"

Clark burst out laughing and Brody couldn't help but crack a smile.

"yeah man, its just a diet supplement you can get offline, fda approved, basically it tells your muscles they want to hold water and your fat cells to burn"

Trent downed the green liquid as Clark flicked the visor down over his eyes. There was a short beep sound before images began to flash on the visor. Flashes of guys working out, of dumbbells and the words you are a jock and you love working out and muscle.

Trent couldn't help it, he burst out laughing.

"I'm sorry guys this is so corny" He laughed.

The other two began to chuckle as well as the room filled with laughter.

"Look dude, Its the closest thing I could find on YouTube, its about the suggestions" Clark laughed

Suddenly the lights in the room began to flicker and all 3 globes in the lounge burnt out at once.

"what the-" Brody and Clark said in unison, but they were interrupted when sparks began to fly off the oculus. They rushed to try and take it off Trent but were shocked by the electricity. Sparks shout out of the power point in the wall and the two boys watched helplessly as Trent began to convulse in his seat.

Trent let out a painful and stalled out moan as the electricity travelled over the oculus and shocked his temples.

The room was dark was illuminated every few seconds by a shock or spark and the two boys could swear they could see something, something happening to Trent's body. A few more seconds passed before it finally stopped.

Brody and Clark stood there stunned, the sound of beeping could be heard from the kitchen as the oven entered safety mode, but a more concerning noise echoed in the boys ears. The sound of sizzling. Clark carefully walked over to the curtains and opened them, the room filling with light and showing them what had happened to Trent.

He sat in the chair with his head slumped forward, his chin hitting his chest as smoke was rising off the device on his head and all over his body. But what the two saw in the dark wasn't a trick of the light, Trent had indeed gotten bigger. His skinny fat body had expanded, he'd become more lean, his muscles more pronounced and most of the fat on his body had melted away.

Trent let out a moan as a string of drool fell from his mouth

"OH THANK FUCK HE'S ALIVE" Clark cried out with a sigh of relief.

The two rushed over and pulled the device off his head. Trent's eyes instantly responded as he looked up at the two of them.

"wooahh bro, huhu, that was intence" Trent mumbled

"yeah, thank god you're okay" said Brody.

Trent lifted his arm to the side and flexed his bicep and let out a dumb chuckle.

"errr, dude, real quick, what's your name?"

"Trent, duuuhuhuhu, you fuckin forgetful bro?"

Trent seemed okay but something was wrong, even with the short interaction the three of them had, Clark and Brody knew something had happened to him.

"hey Trent, what are you" Brody asked

Trent smirked as he lifted his other arm, completing a double bicep pose.

"a jock, duuuhuhuhu"

Trent stood up and effortlessly pushed passed the two as he started heading towards the door.

"well at least we know his motor functions weren't damaged"

Clark and Brody quickly followed him

"Dude, I really think you should go to the medical centre"

"Nah bro, I got dnd like NOW I gotta boost"

"wait Trent!" Clark yelled out "err, dnd thats an interesting hobbie for a jock, what else are you into"

Trent spun around on the spot with a big smirk on his face

"glad you asked dude, I love three things, gymmin, gamin, dndenin..dndin.....dndining....." Trent's voice trailed off as he tried to finish forming his catchy sentence

"and, what about your major? what are you studying?" Brody asked

"errr huhuhu, like, what's a major?" Trent said turning around to leave again

"FUCK DUDE I THINK WE ACTUALLY FRIED HIS BRAIN" Clark started to panic

"I mean, yeah, but it seems like his core interests and that jock hypno video have combined into a new personality, I dunno if we friend his brain more, re-wrote it"

"DUDE NOW IS NOT THE FUCKING TIME FOR YOUR INTEREST IN THE HUMAN BRAIN WE FUCKING CREATED GYM BRO FRANKENSTIEN"

Trent walked out the door into the crowded hallway. Students were all talking over the top of each other in front of their dorm rooms trying to work out what was going on. The two boys raced out to follow Trent.

"Trent dude wait!, errr, tell me about your dnd character" Brody called out desperately trying to stop him from leaving

Trent continued to power forward through the crowd, pushing through them like water with his new powerful body.

"well bro, I was gonna play some like, lil spell caster dude, but like, i dunno bro, numbers are hard, so like, I think I'm just gonna play, like, some sick fucking, roided out minotaur with a huge axe"

Brody was struggling to keep up with Trent, they both had already lost Clark to the sea of students. Brody grabbed onto the back of Trent's shirt which caused him to stop and turn around.

"woah lil dude, if you wanted some action all you had to do was ask, I got an 8 inch python with your na-"

"WHAT!, ha, oh, no dude, errr, that's" Brody's face turned bright red as he got flustered.

"no? damn too bad, you lil fuckin, science dudes are kinda cute"

Brody was stunned, some how all this muscle and new persona had also added a level of charm to Trent that dug right through to his core. But it was too late to grab his attention again. Trent had already pulled away and gone off out of Brody's sight...

One week had passed since the extreme power surge that had hit the Athlete Scholarship Dorms. There almost wasn't a single incident other than a few blown light bulbs and some damaged electronics....almost. The college had found out about Trent, no matter how hard Brody and Clark tried to hide it. However the two got off lucky. Both the College and the investigation into what happened deemed it was an accident that unfortunately resulted in what was being called "Personality Death". Trent had an entirely healthy body and brain with no signs of damages, but something had happen to completely re-write who and what he was.

The college couldn't let Trent graduate, he couldn't even remember what he had enrolled for, but the college still found a purpose for him. The hid the extreme and sudden body transformation from the investigation and gave Trent a 'job'. His official title was research assistant but he was too stupid for any serious work. His real job was to sit there and be injected with experimental steroids. Forced to grow like some roided out lab rat. Not that he cared, every time Trent put on even an ounce of muscle he'd spend hours in the mirror flexing. He was the biggest guy on campus.

[6 years later]

"okay babe, just hold still"

"aahhh, fuck, it feels so good when it goes in"

"you are so weird, I hate getting injections"

"well huhuhu, when you got a sexy lil piece of meat to do em, its a huge fuckin turn on dude"

Brody stood up from the kitchen table and began to clean up the injection kit, chuckling as he did it.

"Trent, that's so cheesy"

Trent stood up, the sound of wood scraping against the floor filled the room as he effortlessly and accidentally moved the entire dining table.

"will it make me look like Captain America huhuhu?"

"babe...seriously, I think we passed the Captain America stage about 150 pounds ago"

"then hit me with all 6 and make me the hulk" Trent pressed his body against Brody and the table.

Brody was no stranger to 300+ pounds pressing against him "I said no Trent" a slight grin cracked across Brody's face, 'besides, for all I know that one shot will add another 50 pounds, we gotta wait and see."

Trent stood there staring into Brody's eyes with an expression that could only be described as a computer failing to load a basic program 10 times in a row.

"Then jab me with all 6 and give me" Trent stopped to count on his fingers, "120 pounds of muscle" a large smirk crept across his face, proud he was able to do the math in his head.

Brody rolled his eyes and chuckled

"that'd be 300 pounds babe" Brody packed up the rest of the kit and left the kitchen.

Trent went to follow after him, he had hit the gym already today so no other thoughts existed in his mind other than getting attention for how big he was from Brody, but as he walked out the kitchen he caught a glimpse of himself and began flexing in the lounge room mirror, completely forgetting what he had been doing just 2 seconds again...

He was so proud of the roided lab rat he had become...

[jjsmaybank20]

can u write another sickfic but this time it's leighton who's sick 🥹 i haven't come across a fic where she's the one being comforted for once

Fine

Leighton Murray x fem!reader

Summary: Leighton insists that she's fine, but everyone can see that she is actually sick.

Warnings: just fluff

Word Count: 489

A/N: Sorry it's so short! Hope you like it anyway.

navigation  the sex lives of college girls masterlist

---

Leighton Murray did not get sick. At least, that’s what she told herself as she blew her stuffed up nose into tissue. She did not get sick, this was not a cold, and she did NOT need to go rest back in her dorm room. The blonde did not miss the wary looks her math professor gave her, and she thanked every being above when he dismissed the class 10 minutes early. She rushed out of class, not really looking where she was going, causing her to make solid contact with a taller figure. 

Said person caught her before she could fall, and kept their hands on her shoulders. Before she could snap at them, she recognized your concerned voice. “Leight? Are you feeling okay?” Leighton all but melts into your arms, causing you to let out a surprised giggle. “Alright, let’s get you to your room. We can get all snuggled up and relax for the rest of the day.”

Leighton tries to protest, she really does, but the promise of her comfortable bed, some cuddles with her girlfriend, and some quiet to keep her rapidly-forming headache from pounding sound just too good to resist. 

You quickly steer her towards the dorms, rushing her through the entrance and up the stairs when you arrive. Leighton doesn’t really remember much about your journey to the building, which she would blame on the fact that her head felt like it was stuffed with cotton balls. 

When you reach her suite, you quickly move towards her room. The shorter blonde drops to her bed, and you can’t suppress the laugh that leaves your mouth at how cute she looks. Leighton tries to fix you with a scathing glare when she hears you, but instead ends up looking like an adorable kitten trying to be tough. 

You gesture for her to raise her arms up, and you pull her shirt over her head. When Leighton wiggles her eyebrows suggestively, you roll your eyes. “We’re putting on comfy clothes, not having sex.” Leighton pouts, but she lets you pull one of your shirts that she had stolen from you over her head. You change into some of your sweats that you had left lying around her dorm before climbing into bed with your girlfriend. 

Wrapping your arms around her, you pull her back into your chest. Leighton turns around in your arms, burying her face in your neck and snuggling even closer to you. Reaching your hands underneath her shirt, you run your nails up and down her back. You can feel Leighton start to relax, and her breath evens out against your neck as she falls asleep. You set a reminder on your phone to go get Leighton some medicine in a few hours, but for now, what she needs is some rest. With your girlfriend wrapped around you, your eyes close and you let yourself drift off into a peaceful sleep.

---

@lovelyy-moonlight @pnsteblnme @nrm5656 @alotofpockets @theenglishswiftie @didyoubringauntienat @Emmie-223 @qutequeersstuff @marvelwomen-simp @sh1nnryuu @taytreesblog @luz-enjoyer @wanhedakomskai

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[tokiro07]

Undead Unluck ch.223 thoughts

[Well...That Could Mean Anything...]

(Contents: immediate reactions - cancelation scare/renewed hope; speculation - story progression)

Please Say "Sike"

...I guess I should've seen that coming

If they can skip the three months leading up to the Quests, why not skip the month of the Quests?

Granted, my assumption was that the Master Rules wanted to fight and defeat the Union, that they were willing to interfere with their training but not to actually cheat at the Quests themselves, which seems to have been an accurate assumption to make

The fact that even Soul objected, demanding an explanation and even going so far as to attack Luna in retaliation, explicitly tells us that nobody involved wanted this outcome

The question this begs, though, is if Tozuka wanted this outcome

The overwhelming response to this chapter was definitely an anxious one. Folks were already super nervous because UU's been in the back of the magazine for the last few weeks while also being notably absent from a recent list of profitable manga that Shueisha put out recently, so seeing this chapter explicitly skip a bunch of content that had been built up for the last year or so was troubling to say the least

However! It also didn't take long for the fanbase to reevaluate the purpose of this direction

Hold the Line!

As Luna notes, Andy held off all ten Master Rules for eons. Of course she lost faith in them! Hell, Andy bodied Sick in less than a minute, and what few members of the Union that Language took out came back - it's pretty easy to see how the remaining fights were going to go, both from Luna's perspective and ours

And that's boring

While we all wanted to see the cast fight their natural enemies and learn more about themselves, awakening their souls and developing new ways to use their Rules, the truth is that was going to become formulaic sooner or later. Language's ambush on Nico and Ichico was a great way to keep us on our toes, but unless all of the Master Rules dropped in on the Roundtable Room at once, there wasn't really a good way to keep things fresh without it feeling like they were on a conveyer belt

There's also the fact that Ragnarok needs to be triggered by failure, so much like with the Four Seasons, the Union was either inevitably going to fail at beating one of the Master Rules or beating them was going to trigger Ragnarok anyway - both of which are outcomes to Quests that we've already seen. The Quests getting autoskipped though? That's a fun twist on the established pass option while also raising the stakes and giving both the cast and audience a scare

If UU weren't having such a rough go in the real world, we'd all be seeing this scene as a super cool twist, and I think that's what Tozuka intended it to be, but because we have reason to fear for its future, we can't help but take it as a bad sign

While Sun basically eating the Master Rules and beginning his assault on the Union certainly looks like a sign of the end, though, I think that this is meant to be the Master Rules all storming the Union at once like I suggested

Two Cakes

Many of you likely noticed that the rings that surround Sun have orbs with Roman numerals engraved on them, corresponding to the ranks of the Master Rules. This implies that the Master Rules haven't been absorbed, but rather sealed

If the Master Rules are still alive, they can still be battled, and likely will need to be defeated to weaken Sun. Using what was learned from the battle against Seal, the Union will likely use their souls to enter the orbs, giving us all of the match-ups and character development that we wanted to see while also moving at the breakneck pace that Tozuka seems to be so fond of

I imagine that someone may need to stay outside to hold off Sun while everyone's souls are separated from their bodies (if that's even an issue), so that will likely be Andy and Fuuko's job since they're ostensibly at their peak already and don't need any further development aside from the finale to their stories, though I could also see this being Chikara's big moment, holding off Sun all by himself while everyone else fights

All that said, this doesn't necessarily mean that we'll have the year and a half run that I projected last week; if Tozuka really is being forced to speedrun the story, it's possible that each Master Rule fight will only be one chapter and serve as a capstone for a different character/set of characters' arcs, but even then, it's extremely likely that the intention is to at least last until the next round of new manga, which will coincide with UU's fifth anniversary

Skipping the off weeks for Christmas and New Years, this gives us, at a conservative estimate, 16 more chapters to work with

To-Do List

Considering the number of events that still need to happen, I think 16 chapters could feasibly work if it looks a little something like this:

Establishing the formula - Chikara's capstone

Sick - capstone for Rip/Latla

Time - capstone for Shen/Mui and likely Feng

Justice - awakening of Unjustice/capstone for Julia?

War - capstone for Billy/Tatiana

Luck - likely a moment for Fuuko, though not her capstone

Change - capstone for Gina(+Sean?)

Death - likely a moment for Andy, not his capstone

Soul - group effort?

Sun - group effort, Ruin returns

Sun pt. 2 - capstone for Ruin

Sun pt. 3 - capstone for the Union

Final boss - Luna

The Heart

Luna defeated - capstone for Andy and Fuuko

Epilogue

This definitely would be a bit rushed, and I'd much rather each fight get a lot more time to breathe, but the main point I'm trying to make here is that it isn't impossible to tell a complete and satisfying story with the time remaining so long as the focus is on completing the character arcs of the cast members that have been established to be the most salient this entire time rather than trying to give everyone a slice of the pie

Tozuka's already made it clear that not every cast member is created equal, which is an unfortunate necessity in an ensemble cast that's under the constant threat of axe-ecution by Jump's editorial staff, so if things need to be pared down, this seems like a reasonable way to do it in my opinion, though again this could easily be doubled or even tripled depending on how badly Shueisha wants the series to still be producing content to coincide with the Winter special episode or possible season 2

Don't take this list at face value, though - remember, I'm just a reader, and while I've been right every now and again, I've also been wrong much more often, so my projected timeline is almost certainly off-base. I just hope it's wrong in the right direction!

Hell, my entire premise of needing to fight the Master Rules in the first place might be wrong! Not in the sense that they won't be present in the story anymore, but more in the sense that they won't be antagonists anymore

The Enemy of My Enemy

If you'll recall, the way that Andy escaped from Seal wasn't by taking down all of the Rules that Seal captured - it was by convincing them to fight back. With Luna having betrayed her creations and manipulated her counterpart, it really doesn't take much stretching of the imagination to see how the Master Rules might have a bit of a bone to pick with her

Therefore, instead of having a dedicated battle against each Master Rule, it's equally likely that there'll be a dedicated battle with each of them. This would let each of them show off their powers and personalities while also letting us build up the tension against Sun without simply rehashing the previous Ragnarok

More importantly, though, this would solidify one of the most major themes of the story: union. Every human enemy save for Ruin has become an ally, and we've had plenty of situations where UMAs have gone against God's orders and allied themselves with humanity, so having the most human UMAs do the same would be the perfect way to wrap up that narrative throughline

However, that again is still pretty predictable, almost rote with how the story has progressed so far, so I still expect one more wrinkle to come out of left field, regardless of how many chapters we have left:

The Union will lose

Failstate

The biggest question mark hanging over this entire series, at least for me, is what Sun and Luna's goals are

What is the world supposed to look like after the game ends? If Luna loses the bet and humanity can't reach the Gods, what's meant to happen? Will humanity be wiped out, will the Rules become harsher on them, what?

To truly understand the weight of the threat, of what the Union is trying to prevent, we need to be shown at least a glimpse of it, so even if Time or Soul or the Heart or whoever will immediately undo the damage, the Union needs to see what they're fighting for

Bonus points if that's the moment that reforms Ruin - that he sees how much worse everything is with humanity's loss, how ruined the world will be, and he decides then and there that he needs to ensure it remains unruined

Again, though, Tozuka has always proven to be a few steps ahead of me, so even if I have the basic ideas, the final product surely won't look much of anything like what I'm suggesting, and will surely be better than anything I can imagine

Looking Forward

In a perfect world, Tozuka would be able to take as much time as he wants to flesh out every single character and backstory and battle to his heart's content, but that's just wishful thinking. The undeniable truth is that Tozuka is working in the most cutthroat company in an already cutthroat industry, so naturally not everything can or will go to plan

However, even under those conditions, Tozuka has managed to tell a consistently engaging and beautiful story that has served as an inspiration to many of us for the past nearly five years. As I've said a thousand times now, we need to have faith that Tozuka is going to continue to do his best to deliver a story that we'll love, even if we don't agree with every choice he makes for it

He certainly doesn't want us to read each chapter filled with fear and trepidation; he wants us to read them with joy and wonder, like we always have! Whether Tozuka decided that this was the best time to end it or Jump forced it on him, whether UU will last for four more months or four more years, the single most important thing that we can do is enjoy what Tozuka has to offer. That's all he's ever wanted from us, and it's what this series has taught me to do

So come on, you do it too:

Until next time, let's enjoy life!

[imonthemoonitsmadeofcheese]

Psycho

In which Eris queries the Drifter regarding his recent activities and he inquires regarding her eating habits.

Link to Ao3 if you prefer to read it there

ACCESS: RESTRICTED DECRYPTION KEY: L5P2Y6BM80$IKO-006 REP#: 086-ATHENAEUM-DERELICT-AUDIO AGENT(S): AUN-326 SUBJ: VIP#1316 AND ERI-223 INTERACTIONS - PSYCHO

RECORDING 81007.1 [BEGIN TRANSCRIPT]

“Hey there, knife edged truth, what's up?”

“Rat.”

“Ooo I'm Rat again today. I like it. I musta done something. Tell me what I done!”

“Did you visit Immaru and intimidate him?”

“I did pay that little shit a visit, yes. I was just curious. If he was intimidated by it, that's on him. I didn't say nothin'.”

“And it was not some sort of ridiculous attempt to defend my honour, correct?”

“Your honour don't need defendin’ and, if it did, the best person to be defendin’ it is you, not me. I don't do honour. That sorta shit gets you killed.”

“That's what I thought you'd say. Immaru seems to believe you threatened him.”

“Immaru believes being the ghost of the mass civilization-murdering hive god of lies is a reasonable life choice. I don't think his beliefs are ah… how would you put it…accurate reflection of reality here.”

“Hmmm…”

“Although if at some point you don't need him any more, I'd love to take him apart. Slowly. For Science, of course.”

“Hmmm yes, for Science. I doubt Ikora would permit that.”

“I ain't askin’ her.”

“She was quite concerned you found your way into where she’s been keeping him.”

“Was she? Well, it’s true I’m normally a bit more discreet about how much I come and go in Hidden spaces. Ha.”

“You may find your infiltrations more challenging in future.”

“You know me, I like a challenge.”

“Have you ever considered joining?”

“The Hidden. Me. Join the Hidden.”

“Yes. Your skillset is rather ideally suited for the work, and you and I could work together.”

“We work together now just fine.”

“It would mean we could work together more.”

“Yeah, I'll admit that would be very tempting, but joining the Hidden would mean following orders and I just… I can't… you know I can't. What's that you said before? I have uh… issues with authority.”

“Hmmm… You certainly do.”

“So do you. It's one of the many reasons I like you so damn much.”

“Sometimes I do, yes.”

“I help you, though. And if that's Hidden work then I guess I'm already doing it. And if Ikora asks you to do something, and you ask me to come along, well then what’s the difference, really?”

“I suppose that is one way of looking at it. I shall let Ikora know of your willingness to help without helping.”

“I mean I did already tell ol’ Rayray myself that if she needed anything to help you, to ask me and it'll get done. I think I made it clear to her whose side I'm on.”

“Of course, the same side you’re always on: your own.”

“Yours, actually.”

“I did not expect you to say that to her. To me, yes, but you’ve always told everyone you don't pick sides.”

“Didn't really pick this one. More like fell. Hard. But you knew that.”

“Yes.”

“Also made it clear whose side I expect her to be on, too. I might’a pissed her off a bit, but I don’t think anyone needs to worry about that. She’s solid and she’s got your back. That’s what counts.”

“She is a dear, dear friend.”

“I know. So… not that you need a reason, but is that all you’re calling about, Moondust? Immaru crying like a little bitch ‘cuz mean old Drifter went and stared at him for a few minutes?”

“Like ‘a psycho,’ apparently.”

“Ha! That’s rich, coming from him.”

“I have grown accustomed to being able to consult with you and collaborate with you much more often than we are doing now. I functioned alone for so long and have found your presence obnoxious, frustrating, and profoundly irritating for most of the time we’ve worked together. And yet, now that you’re there, and I am here, and there is not the time nor the capacity for such ventures, there is no irritation in my memory, only fondness sharpened by absence.”

“You just said a lot of words there, but what I heard was that you miss me.”

“Yes. I miss you, but I also find myself smiling at the fact that I do.”

“Ain't that a mood.”

“It is indeed… a mood. “

“Say, when was the last time you ate an actual meal, bane of the swarm? Not like unwrapping rations and gobbling them to keep going, but real food?”

“I think it was what you made for me, but there hasn’t been time to…”

“Dammit, Moondust, that was over a week ago. What’s Ikora doing not makin you eat?”

“Ikora has been a pillar of strength for me.”

“I’m glad for that. Hand on my heart, I am. But I wish she was also a pillar of food. I’m bringing you dinner.”

“I don’t know that I’ll have time to eat it.”

“Then I’ll just have to make you something that’ll still be good after it gets cold.”

“I don’t know that I’ll be here when you arrive. There’s not time to…”

“So what? You’ll still get dinner. And I’ll get to know everyone’s favourite hive god has had a decent meal. Admit it, you’re already looking forward to this.”

“I… yes. I am. Thank you.”

[END TRANSCRIPT]

This is one of a series of stories written during Season of the Witch that I called Kept Conficence, after the hand cannon with the lore that helped to inspire them.

Here is a link to all of them in order if you wish.

[genopaint]

So many weeks to catch up on... Here's week 32...

As always you can follow me on twitter where they’re posted daily

And read more info on each of them below the cut (also idk if I've mentioned it before but just as an FYI if you click the names of the dragons in the read-more they'll take you to the dragon's individual posts if it got one of its own.)

Daily Dragon #217 - Marshogon

Large amphibious dragons that serve as mini islands in large swamps and marshes. Many plants and animals live on the grass that grows on their back. They eat algea and micro-organisms living in the water, so they dont attack anything on their back.

Animals on its back actually help protect it from parasites!! Another redraw... Kind of. This is more like a MASSIVE overhaul of this 2016 (i think) swamp dragon design. I couldn't recreate the log helmet in a way I like so I turned it into some kinda triceratops horn.

Daily Dragon #218 - Vulture Wyvern

Exactly what it says on the tin, these birds are MASSIVE to the point they've reached dragon status. Though they could be incredibly deadly if they attacked, they mostly eat dead and decayed animals specifically to avoid combat

Daily Dragon #219 - Sheeva

Watching Clementj64's Mortal Kombat Lore video! I love these videos and while I'm not done with this one yet (I did finish it between the original post and now, it was very good), I DID learn that Goro and Sheeva are part dragon??? Yeah that's good enough to draw them for this challenge I think!

I was gonna do Goro, and I know there's a full on Dragon King... but... Sheeva's redesign is so fucking hot... I just needed any excuse to draw it

Daily Dragon #220 - Light Green

It's been a hot minute since I've done another one of my endless amount of alt sonas. I've been thinking about drawing this weird little dinosaur... sooooooo... here she is!! what are you gonna do about it, huh???

'light green' is also just like, a joke concept little name I came up with now cause Idk what else to call her other than small dinosaur green

Daily Dragon #221 - Crashadon

These dragons have evolved to go a step further than just breathing fire, they breathe explosions! Concentrated energy breaths that release into HUGE explosions when they reach their targets! They are considered to be serious threats to nearby towns

This funny fella is a redraw of THIS funny fella from 2020 :)

Daily Dragon #222 - Salamence

Another dragon type AND another pseudo legendary! Salamence, despite being a pretty regular looking high-fantasy dragon with a great color scheme. Isn't a Pokemon I was really into until recently. It's growing on me a lot!

Daily Dragon #223 - Groundramon

Another dragon I knew I wanted to do from the! I only really became a full on Digimon fan last year after playing Cyber Sleuth, but Groundramon quickly became my favorite teammate and favorite Digimon I've seen so far :)

The only reason this one took me so long is actually the same reason Blue Eyes / Red Eyes did... They're kind of hard to draw! Digimon are incredibly detailed but that's what makes them so cool and edgy

[bratshaws]

through the hourglass 243. brb x oc

a/n: listen......i don't even know if this is common or legal,I just want drama and im so t i r e d so b ear with me pls(comments and reblogs are super welcome and encouraged!)

pairing: plus size!oc x rooster

warnings: none uwu

goodness gracious (pls read this one to know more what this fic is about!!)

chapter

1/

/210/211/212/213/214/215/216/217/218/219/220/221/222/223/224

/225/226/227/228/229/230/231/232/233/234/235/236/237/238

/239/240/241/242

(pls let me know if you want to be added to the taglist! )

taglist: @mirandastuckinthe80s @roosterschanelslut @wiipes @lcahwriter @novastories @gretagerwigsmuse @frenchtoastix @lizzie-rdj @fanboyluvr @atarmychick007 @comebacktoearthpls

@peachiicherries @mak-32 @lizziespidiepridie @roosterswifey @ollyoxenfrees @piceous21 @sqrlgrl22 @hofficoffi @lexhalstead3 @lorilane33 @legendarydreamersharkparty @luckyladycreator2

@emilybradshaw @louisahale @leobabbyyy @booklover2sblog @winter-run @ktjmac @graciereads @bigpoppajes @taytaylala12

@caitsymichelle13 @becks-things @caatheeriinee07 @fanboyswhore9 @jesfreedark @katiemcrae @lilmonstrjedi @hobiismyhopeu @teacupsandtopgun @insominac23 @gh0stsgoodgirl @mygyn @chavivaelisheva @kmc1989 @enchantingharmonyalpaca

-

It wasn’t news that he was good at his job, he was good, he was good enough to be promoted to Lieutenant-Commander. As he walks past a few other officers towards Cyclone’s office, he wondered what exactly they could talk about that was so…hurried.

He saw the email on Sunday afternoon, minutes before the girls left with Leonardo and he and Beatrice went to Marcus for that…photoshoot…thing. It was weird, but also really fun? It took him some time to get used to the idea, but he’s glad that he did.

He knocks on the vice-admiral’s door, he hears the quiet ‘Come in’ and then finally enters. He stops by the door when he sees a brand new picture on Cyclone’s desk, his grandson, in all his red peach faced glory, squinting at the camera and giving the onlookers a confused frown.

Well, that’s interesting.

Rooster blinked in surprise, hardly believing his eyes as he took in the unexpected sight of his uncle, Maverick, sitting in Vice-Admiral Cyclone's office. He couldn't help but grin at the sight of his younger, albeit scruffy and casually dressed, family member.

"Mav?" Rooster, his voice filled with disbelief and genuine happiness. "What are you doing here?"

Maverick leaned back in the chair, offering Rooster a cocky smile. "Can you believe I was invited?” he smirks, “By Beau nonetheless.” Cyclone just sighed heavily from his chair, flipping some pages in a folder, “I felt honored,honestly.”

"Invited?" he repeated, his mind trying to make sense of the situation. He knew that Maverick and Vice-Admiral Cyclone had a history, but he hadn't expected his uncle to be invited to a meeting like this.

Especially by Cyclone who did not look that excited.

Maverick chuckled, his casual demeanor contrasting sharply with the formal setting of Cyclone's office. "Yeah, Beau called me up and said he needed my input on something," he explained, his voice laced with amusement. "Said it was a 'family matter.'"

Cyclone finally set the folder aside and leaned forward, his expression serious. "Gentlemen, I appreciate you both coming," he said, his voice carrying the weight of authority and completely ignoring how casual the conversation was. "Yes, even you Maverick.” 

“It must be something insane for you to allow me in here.” Maverick smiles, “I think being a grandpa is doing good for you. I mean,it did for me. Rooster’s kids are great.”

Cyclone purposefully ignored that information, “Bradley your promotion ceremony is coming,” he says, pulling his glasses off his face, “A few weeks, if I’m not wrong.”

Rooster nodded, acknowledging the upcoming event. "Yes, sir," he replied, hands behind his back, “Just…a few days after my birthday,actually.” and he let out an awkward laugh…one that his uncle did reciprocate, but his superior…well…

If he squinted he could see his lips twitching.

Cyclone continued, his gaze shifting between Rooster and Maverick. "As you both know, promotions in the Navy are based on merit, performance, and potential," he said, his tone serious. "And while Rooster's record is exceptional and he's more than deserving of his promotion, there's another factor at play here."

Rooster exchanged a puzzled glance with Maverick. "What do you mean, sir?" he inquired, his curiosity piqued.

Cyclone leaned back in his chair, his hands steepled in front of him. "I've received some...interesting information from the higher-ups," he began, choosing his words carefully. "It seems they aren’t that fond that you two-” he points at them, “Are together in the same base.”

Rooster's eyebrows shot up in surprise at Cyclone's revelation. He hadn't expected the conversation to take such a turn. He exchanged a quick, worried glance with Maverick before turning his attention back to the vice-admiral.

"Sir, with all due respect, our relationship hasn't affected our performance or professionalism in any way," Rooster stated firmly, his voice steady.

Maverick nodded in agreement, his expression serious. "We've always maintained the highest standards, both as Navy officers and as individuals," he added.

Cyclone sighed, his gaze fixed on Rooster. "I don't doubt your professionalism, Bradley," he said, his tone sympathetic. "But you know how the higher-ups can be. They have concerns about the appearance of impropriety, especially with both of you being…family."

Rooster couldn't help but feel a sense of frustration at the situation. He had worked hard to achieve his current rank, and the idea that his relationship with Maverick could jeopardize his career was disheartening. "Sir, I understand their concerns, but we've kept our personal and professional lives separate," he argued. "I don't see how our relationship should be an issue."

“Listen,Beau,”Maverick stands up, “He’s my nephew. But there’s no nepotism in place here,I don’t have any saying on what happens to him.”

Cyclone nodded in acknowledgment of Maverick's statement. "You're right, Maverick," he said, his expression thoughtful. "But I wanted both of you to be aware of the situation and the potential challenges it might present. The higher-ups are watching closely."

Seldom were the times when he saw Maverick angry, actually angry. But when his eyes narrowed and he leaned down to Cyclone’s level, he could see how he was seething, “Watching me closely,huh?”

“Maverick-”

“They are threatening my nephew because of me?” he asks quietly, “Is that the truth,Beau?”

Cyclone sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly as he met Maverick's intense gaze. "Maverick, it's not a direct threat," he explained, choosing his words carefully. "But it's a concern they've raised, and it could potentially impact Bradley's career."

“It feels like one.” and the two men stared at each other for a few seconds, before Cyclone broke the silence.

And while his words were heavy, they had truth in them, “...Maverick, you knew Admiral Kazansky’s protection would only last so long.” he says quietly, “You knew they’d still be on your ass even after he passed.”

Rooster watched the exchange between Maverick and Cyclone, a mix of emotions swirling within him. He felt like..he didn’t know what to feel. He was so conflicted. "Mav, it's okay," Rooster interjected, stepping closer to both of them. "We'll figure this out. Okay?” he saw how his uncle’s knuckles were white when he pressed them on the desk’s surface, keeping him upright.

“I will not allow them to do it.” he whispers, “They will not hurt him because of me,Beau.”

Cyclone’s jaw moved before he spoke again. "Maverick, I appreciate your concern for Rooster," he said, "But we need to tread carefully. We don't want to give them any more reason to scrutinize Bradley's career."

“There shouldn’t be any!” Maverick almost shouts, making both his nephew and the vice-admiral stare at him wide eyed, “What is this? Punishment? For some fucking reason? Why? No,” he points at Cyclone, “No, they won’t do this, not to him, not anymore.”

Cyclone sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I'm going to have a meeting with the higher-ups," he said, his tone resigned. "I'll try to convince them that Bradley's promotion should proceed as planned. But we'll need to be prepared for any outcome."

“There will be only one outcome.”

“We don’t know that.”

“...no, we do.” Maverick muttered, stepping back to look at Rooster. And Rooster felt his heart hurting because that was the same look he gave back when they started talking again. After Phoenix and Bob got hurt, after he questioned him about his papers.

Why did you stand in my way?!

“Is it over?” Maverick asked, “Can we get out of here? We are both busy.” the atmosphere was so tense and thick it was almost suffocating. Rooster could only stare at his uncle in silence, hands behind his back as he waited.

Cyclone nodded, his expression grave. "Yes, you're both dismissed for now," he replied, his voice heavy with the weight of the situation. "I'll keep you updated on any developments, Rooster."

Rooster gave a brisk salute, his thoughts racing as he followed Maverick out of the vice-admiral's office. The tension in the room seemed to linger even after they had left, leaving Rooster feeling a sense of unease, it clung to his uniform like oil.

As they walked down the corridor, Maverick's earlier anger had transformed into a steely resolve. He glanced at Rooster and placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "Mav?" he calls softly, “Mav, you okay?”

“Me?” his uncle scoffs, “I should be the one asking you that? Are you okay?”

Why did you stand in my way?

Both men stood in front of each other, the taller pilot opening his mouth, then closing. Then opening and repeating the whole ordeal again…he felt…guilty, but he shouldn’t. Right? He shouldn’t feel guilty but he also felt angry and disappointed and just…he couldn’t pinpoint one single emotion.

He sighed, the weight of the situation pressing down on him. "I...I don't know, Mav," he admitted, his voice heavy with uncertainty. "I'm…really surprised of how things…turned out." and he laughs quietly, more out of discomfort than humor, “...but,I mean it, are you okay?”

Maverick's gaze softened as he looked at his nephew, his concern evident in his eyes. "I'm more worried about you right now," he replied honestly. "You've worked so hard for your promotion, and I don't want to see your career suffer because of me."

Again.

Rooster gave a weary smile, his brain rattling with past conversations he wished wouldn’t come back now, “I know.” he whispers, “I know,Mav…we-we will figure it out, somewhat.” he could feel the claw going up his spine, the anxiety of somehow his promotion being revoked was…scary.

He worked so hard for this, so hard.

And he couldn’t blame Mav, as much as somehow past Rooster wanted to, he couldn’t. This wasn’t him playing with his papers, the fact they were family - not exactly by blood - shouldn’t be such an issue, “...they really get on your ass,huh,Mav?”

Maverick chuckled dryly, crossing his arms over his chest, “Always did.” he frowns, “Always,did,Brad.”

–

“I’m home.”

“Kitchen!”

His smile was immediate, no matter how shitty his day could be, no matter if he was in the worst situation…that voice made his entire body relax, “Kitchen? What are you makin’?” he calls, leaning down to pet each of the dogs as they rush over to greet him, “Is Nikki with you?”

“Dada!”

“You bet she is.”

Rooster chuckled, running his hand through his hair as he walks to the kitchen, inhaling quietly, trying to ease his mind because he knew Beatrice was going to ask about this meeting. He knew it’d happen and he had to prepare his answers.

Rooster stepped into the kitchen, his fatigued shoulders gradually relaxing as he inhaled the savory aroma wafting through the air. Beatrice stood by the stove, a welcoming smile illuminating her face as she looked down at Nicole who was happily seated on her high chair at a safe distance from her mother.

"Look who's here, Nikki," Beatrice announced, playfully gasping, “Is it dada?”.

Nikki eagerly reached out for her father, her tiny arms stretching towards him. Rooster happily swept her up into his embrace, showering her chubby cheeks with affectionate kisses that elicited even more laughter from the little one.

"Hey there, my little birdie," Rooster whispered, his nose nuzzling Nikki's soft cheek. “Oh,” he swipes her face, “You got some sauce on your cheek, were you helping mama with dinner? Yeah?”

Beatrice leaned in once she lowered the temperature, her lips meeting Rooster's in a tender kiss. "Welcome home, babe," she greeted him warmly.

Rooster returned the kiss, smiling against her mouth, “Thanks babe, missed you.”

Beatrice gently caressed his cheek, her eyes filled with adoration. "We missed you too, Roos," she replied softly, looking back at the stove. "Dinner is almost ready. I made your favorite."

Rooster's eyes lit up with anticipation. "Oh boy, the options are endless. I wouldn’t know what it’d be…what is it?" he asked,craning his neck to check the boiling pot with his brows arched, “Tomato sauce…hmmm…could be anything. Gimme a hint.”

“It’s pasta,Roos.” she giggles, “More precisely spaghetti all'amatriciana.” she smiles more, “I thought about it, it’s been so long since we had it and I know how much you loved it back then.”

“Still do.” he says, sitting on the kitchen chair and placing Nicole on his lap, kissing her forehead, “Thanks babe, that sounds great.”

“Don’t mention it! How was work?”

Rooster settled into the chair, balancing Nicole on his lap as he recounted the events of his day. "It was a long day," he admitted, his voice tinged with exhaustion,holding his head with his free hand, “Long day.”

Beatrice looked at him from the stove and frowned at how his expression shifted to a somber, almost upset look, “...you wanna talk about it?” she asks softly, giving him a small smile when he met her eyes, “If you feel comfortable enough to?”

Rooster met Beatrice's concerned gaze, and for a moment, he hesitated. His day had indeed been challenging, and he had a lot on his mind. He sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly as he considered her offer. "...maybe after dinner?”

Her gaze softened, “Okay.” she says, “No worries.”

[stellerssong]

Last Line Challenge

tagged by @two-hands-toward-the-sun to post the last line (or, like, chunk, if we're being indulgent) i added to a wip! for my own part, tagging @eri-223, @sunsorbit, @honeyteacakes, @subjectsix, hi kip, uh...i don't know who else hasn't done this who wants to...so like. if you're seeing this, now is your chance! tell them i twisted your arm! tell them you had no choice!

and god damn, wouldn't you know it, the last wip i was digging around in is for a fandom i know for a certainty no one here is interested in. so we'll make it a twofer, just to keep the people hyped up.

first off, a loose sequel to my extremely normal P6 + P7 au for Control (2019, Remedy Games):

“So here the boy is, crying, sad, because that’s his only knife, and when you’re just a nobody-shepherd good knives don’t come easy, so he’s thinking, ai, what am I gonna do, I can’t just go and buy a new knife, my moneypurse is dead as the stone. And the tears fall down in the river, plash, plash, plash. Salt in the good sweet water and all. And the god of the river tastes them, and—” “The what of the river?” “Jahaa.” Ahti gives Jesse a sly smile, like a fox in a picture book. “Your funny man didn’t teach you that word?” “No. What’s it mean?” “Hmm. It’s like a—big man. Or lady. Or both. Or neither. Who got a big job to do. And all the little people, running around under his feet, they tell the god, hey, now, I need your help with this and with that. And the god, well—sometimes he helps, and sometimes he doesn’t, but the important thing for him, and the thing what makes him what he is, is the big job. Making the winds to blow, and the tides to rise, and the sun to rise in the east and set in the west, and the dark to come in at night.” “Casper says the sun rises and sets because of plan-et-ary ro-tay-shun.” “Plan-et-ary ro-tay-shun, saatana,” Ahti grunts. “Your Casper says a lot of things, eh? Some of them might be true, even. Smart man, smart, smart man. But he wasn’t there when the boy dropped his knife in the river. So you gonna believe him, or Ahti?” “Were you there when the boy dropped his knife in the river?” Ahti fox-smiles, and doesn’t answer.

AND, for your trouble, the next bit of the mansand werewolves au, where Dream is, as always, having some kind of a motherfucking day:

“Is…everything all right?” “Yes.” “Do you need a minute, or—?” “That might be for the best, thank you. Just sorting out a few things.” She squeezes Dream’s right paw, and Dream knows to his bones that she’s just trying to hide the fur and claws there, but the weak little creature deep down inside of him lets out a happy whine at the comfort of her touch. “We won’t be long. And you’re welcome to ask Tiffany to help sort the request items if she can mind the front desk while she does it. We’re a little short-staffed at the moment. Gearing up for finals, you know.” “Right. Yeah, no, of course.” Gwen takes a nervous step back. “I’ll, um—I think I’ll get started on the requests on my own, actually. It’s not that much material. And if I pull Tiffany right now, we’re gonna have masters’ students climbing over the front desk to steal each other’s holds when they think we’re not looking.” “It’s surprising how aggressive they get, sometimes,” Lucienne agrees mildly. “Though I’ve had some dark nights of the soul myself when I couldn’t turn up what I needed on JSTOR, so perhaps it’s not my place to judge.” “Been there, babe.”

[lightyakami]

10, 15, 18 for the fic writer asks!

hello thank you!!!!! :D 10. is there a fic that got a different response than you were expecting?

i was for some reason convinced that hammer and nail was borderline unreadable and tbh the only reason i actually posted it is i was like ‘well if you don’t post bad fic sometimes you will psych yourself out of posting any fic ever.’ people have left incredibly nice comments on it, though, i’m honestly really touched by many of them T__T. (it is also my most viewed death note fic by a very wide margin, which is surprising to me partially because it’s gen.)

15. how do you come up with titles for your fics/chapters?

great question gjfghhgf. tbh i struggle a lot with titles. often i pick a quote or a phrase & sometimes i’m just going off vibes.

i can explain my most ludicrously convoluted one, which is our lighted tommorrows. it comes from this macbeth soliloquy:

Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow,

Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,

To the last syllable of recorded time;

And all our yesterdays have lighted fools

The way to dusty death

the concept being that they were originally the doomed fools following the lighted path but now their tommorrow are lit u know. the fools have lighted a new path and so on and so forth. it’s very pretentious dfjkgdlj but i like it.

18. what’s one of your favorite lines you’ve written in a fic?

my arbitrary little secret 2023 challenge is to write, whenever appropriate, the longest possible sentences. this one from animal games is my favourite because it clocks in at 223 words:

One day he showed up twenty minutes late -- he said there was traffic, whatever, he should have left earlier, he should have checked the fucking roads before he left -- and we had a fight about it on the way home that continued all the way into the house, down the driveway and through the hall into the living room, a screaming fight, with him snarling right in my face and me shouting back at his, a fight I'd almost enjoyed because it felt like something real, it felt like he saw me, and so I kept making it bigger and bigger, telling him he didn't give a shit about me now that he had his stupid fucking yard and and all these people who'd tell him how smart he was and this job that needed him and me locked up like an animal he could pick up and play with whenever he felt like it, always available, always waiting, always down for whatever it was he wanted to do because what other fucking option did I have and he'd screamed at me, which I'd never heard him do before, and I felt this electric fire that I could make him do that, his voice all deep and raw, getting closer and closer to me until I was pressed right up against the wall.

[afactaday]

#aFactADay2024 #1461: the FINALE part 3! see the master post or the Neocities landing page. the following post is best read on the Neocities website.

Stop the Bus, I Need a Wee-Wee!

Apparently that song has other verses??

Abstract

During 2024, a list of visits to the bathroom was logged with data on datetime and burstingness. Various analyses were produced to present various aspects of the data, primarily for the purpose of being silly. 947 "number ones" and 223 "number twos" were had over a 365-day period, the largest proportion of which were at home and between 6-7am. Finally, we also present a "Number, Clump, Spread Analysis" on the timestamps collected.

Introduction and Collection Methods

There's really not much to be said here. I genuinely have no idea why I started recording all this data in specific! The log dates back to late December 2023, which is quite a nice timeframe as it gives me a clean year. This entire document is completely non-serious, and really just an excuse to squeeze as many euphemisms in as possible.

All data in this article are cut off at the 30th of Dec (I'm currently writing this at 2am on New Year's Eve) but because this year was a leap year it still works out to be 365 days. Each datum in the datalog consists of a datetime, type, location and burstingness. Type is whether it's a "number one" or a "number two". Location refers not to a specific toilet but a slightly more generic place - like "home" or "the English corridor". Burstingness is rated out of 5, where

1 = I didn't know I needed it

2 = a slight nagging

3 = I needed that

4 = stop the bus I need a wee-wee

5 = gotta riverdance to stay sane

I did log timezones (i.e. when I went abroad, I logged the update to relative time but wrote data in local time) but these have all been ignored, so there are going to be some very minor and very occasional offsets. You'll barely notice them.

Summary and Highlights

I went to the loo* 1170 times this year

947 of which were number ones (2.6 times a day)

223 of which were number twos (4.3 times a week)

*I actually only went to the loo 1010 times this year: 160 visits involved both a number one and a number two

The vast majority of these visits happened at home while roughly a sixth happened between 6-7am

Most number ones were ranked 3 burstingness, whereas most number twos were ranked 4

A period of intense loo-age was evident in June

The Age-Old Wisdom

As a knowledgable sage once told me, "Poopoo Time is Peepee Time but Peepee Time is not [Always] Poopoo Time" This obviously seemed correct at the time but now we can prove it! As was mentioned in the highlights, 160 of my loo visits incorporated both a number one and a number two (in any order, within ten minutes of one another, although only 7 of these happened 2-10 minutes apart - most were just a minute apart). This means that 72% of "Poopoo Times" were "Peepee Times". Obviously when this wizard said this, the implication was that it wasn't every single one (that would be easy to disprove as it only takes one), but the vast majority is pretty good evidence. The other half of the statement is easy to prove: for every number two, there were at least four number ones (4.24 to be precise) and thus by the Dirichlet Principle (which has a much fancier name than it deserves - don't Google it because you'll be underwhelmed) there will always be a "Peepee Time" that cannot be a "Poopoo Time". Specifically, 83% of them were. But, that half of the adage is still 100% true. Therefore, the legendry is roughly 86% true. Good enough for me.

How badly?

Each toilet visit is qualified with a "burstingness" score between 1 and 5 (scroll up to see the benchmarks - I can't be bothered to repeat them). Most were 3s and 4s, which makes sense because why empty the tank if it's not full? Similarly, why wait until it's so uncomfortable that you have to riverdance? Apparently I was much more willing to do so with number twos than ones:

The reason I put this section here (rather than somewhere below in the less important stuff... as if any of this is important) was because there are some interesting relations between the "burstingness" score and the crossovers of number ones and twos discussed in the first section:

There were 53 number ones with a burstingness of 1 (ie "I didn't think I needed to go"), but 52 of these happened within ten minutes after a number two, thus backing up the claims discussed in the previous section even further. Similarly, there were 153 number ones with a burstingness of 2 (ie just-perceptible), but most of these happened within ten minutes of a number two. In fact, of most visits involving both water and fertiliser, I much more needed to do the latter than the former, and the vast majority of number ones involved in a situation like this were not very bursting. This adds further evidence to the claims discussed in the previous section and passed down through the generations.

How Often?

This is the important question, really. I have a friend who drains the radiator more times in a day than I have fingers to count on - when they get through our triple lesson (which features majorly in my article on "Number, Clump, Spread" - go read that! Shameless self-insert!) without going to the loo, this is something to write home about. I, on the other hand, am notorious for rarely going to the loo. The longest I believe I went this year was 29 hours and 41 minutes, although that's harder to verify than I can be bothered. For the record, I had seven number ones in a day on multiple occasions! (It was terrible!) But to give a more specific answer, I will answer through the powerful medium of a Google Sheets graph that I whipped up in the dead of night!

Looking more closely, there are some interesting things to be revealed. My bowel patterns were much more stable, although they did roughly mirror some of the more drastic changes in urinary movements in places. To address the elephant in the room, there was a massive spike during June where I almost doubled my number ones at a point. Both 7-number-1s (and both 6-number-1s) occurred during June. This is simply because June is hayfever season, so I drink loads of water to keep my mucus nice and runny so that I can breathe more easily, but it does go through me quite quickly....

The other interesting pattern that took me by such a large surprise was the oscillations that seem to occur. They're visible throughout at regular and almost predictable intervals, but particularly around August/September sorta time. This reminded me strikingly of this pattern that occurred during study leave one year:

To give a little context, this was part of a larger challenge I held with a friend to see who could be most productive during study leave (mostly with respect to studying but also other things like self-care and hobbies). For the record, I won this year (reclaiming my loss from the previous year's study leave). But probably only because of the extremely long plateau of productivity around mid-late May where two oscillations fused together.

But oddly, the oscillations in this productivity graph match the oscillations in the number of pennies I spend (once you account for things like different moving average periods, phase offset, etc). I wonder if there's something really afoot here - probably just statistical bias (if I'm more productive I work harder so drink more water....??) but any correlation would be interesting. In the same way that I analysed similar (but different) data in my "Number, Clump, Spread" article to help plan my time in the long-term, I wonder if there's any merit in analysing when powder my nose to help me plan my time... Probably clutching at straws here. I have much better data for September-December (where the oscillations are clearest in both moving averages) in terms of productivity (as part of the same dataset as the "focability" data used in my "Number, Clump, Spread" article - go read it!! Shameless self-insert!) but I can't entirely be bothered to analyse it this instant.

When and Where?

At what time of day did I wring out the ol' kidneys most? 06:06am. 12 wazzes occurred at 6 past 6 in the morning in 2024. 8.2% of all my visits took place between 06:00 and 06:20am, while 16.9% took place between 6 and 7 o'clock. This is hardly surprising as I got in a good habit this year of getting up at 6 on the dot (although I slipped quite a bit in the latter part of the year).

Most of the other larger spikes on this graph are labellable. the second one is 08:20-08:40, roughly when I have my breakfast on the weekend. There are peaks at 13:00-13:20 (the beginning of lunch at school) and 14:20-14:40 (roughly when I leave school on a lot of days, but also roughly 8 hours after my first number one of the day if I'm at home). There's an extended portion of the day where I have a lot more (variously between 3pm and 9pm) because that's usually when I get home. The peak at 8pm is inexplicably high. Aside from that, it all seems that my body runs on surprisingly regular clockwork.

But where do I test the plumbing most? As just mentioned, when I wake up and when I get home are two of my favourite times to pay a visit to the ol' porcelain, so it's unsurprising that 4 in 5 of nature's calls occur at home. (Wow, sounds like a firefighters' campaign.)

Aside from the massive proportion that happen at home (it could happen to you too!), the biggest proportion is just wherever I'm staying at the time (defined as somewhere I overnighted) which makes sense because it's just a stand-in for home. The biggest sub-category hereof was my exchange partner's house, where I stayed for two weeks, but my aunt also featured quite highly.

Of the thirteenth that happen at school, my favourite haunt is the loos in the English corridor, which warranted 47 visits this year. Probably just because it's nearest to the DT department.

The tiny 1.7% miscellaneous slice is where it gets interesting: most are at friends' houses or non-school institutions where I was visiting. The equally poignant component is the green slice, which for some reason Google refuses to label. These are public loos! I used 18 different public bogs 19 times (only four on trains or in stations, surprisingly) - the only one I could stomach going back to was on Bournemouth beach. I think there's an ode to be given to public loos from the fact that I used them more than my friends', but I'll leave my less fortunately bladdered friend to write such an ode.

NSC

For the umpteenth time in this article, I'm going to reference my other article on "Number, Clump and Spread", which was also written as part of the Fact of the Day Finale series. I implore you to read at least part of it before fully understanding this bit, although I'll attempt to give a layperson's interpretation too. (The values account for number ones only and are given in HH:MM:SS format for your convenience. I'll take applause at the end.)

The value of mu (the mean) is very simply the mean interval between two rainstorms on the bowl - you may recognise that value as the reciprocal of the number i mentioned earlier, 2.6 per day.

The value of mu_c (the "clump-weighted mean") represents the mean time passages between water passages, but weighted in favour of close-together instances. It's a measure of how much a role closely-packed events form in your data, and of short-term distribution: here, it's quite a lot but still quite a few hours so nothing to write home about.

The value of mu_s (the "spread-weighted mean") represents the mean duration between urination station visitations, but this time weighted in favour of "poorly-spread" instances. It's a measure of poorly-distributed events in your data in the long term: here it's very close to the standard mean, albeit a little bit above, implying that there are certainly some drier stints than others but on the whole it's very well-spread. Which makes sense.

The same analysis couldn't be conducted for slices of caterpillar cake as easily on the entire dataset due to its poor formatting and my laziness at this dark hour of night. However, small-scale testing yields two results:

It was better spread and even better clumped compared to the tinkle.

A surprising number of them occurred at similar times but one or two days apart!

I'm afraid I don't really have anything more to say in this article. It's all a bit silly. As ever, if you have any ideas what to do with all this data (any analyses you think might be interesting?) or any ideas for future data-collection, please let me know ASAP!! I love spreadsheets.....

Oh and go and read the other three articles. They're much more purposeful. Ok maybe not purposeful....

[quoteoftheweekblog]

LORE SEGAL - ‘OTHER PEPLE'S HOUSES’ (FIRST PUBLISHED 1964)

First sentence:

'I did my first writing - I mean writing that understood itself to be writing - when I was ten years old.' (Segal, 2018, p.5).

On writing:

'I am at pains to draw no facile conclusions - and all conclusions seem facile to me. If I want to trace the present from the occurrences of the past I must do it in the moment of the novelist.' (Segal, 2018, p.6).

' "Well, asyntaxis describes a pathological condition which prevents the sufferer from organizing ideas into sentences." ' (Segal, 2018, p.206).

' "I wouldn't say that your paper is altogether without merit. I feel there might be interesting ideas here, if I could read them, and if they were expressed between periods with a full complement of verbs. Do let me recommend to your attention, Miss Groszmann, the full stop and the verb." ' (Segal, 2018, p.207).

On memory:

'There seems to be only a certain amount of room in my memory.' (Segal, 2018, p.57).

'I believe that there is no act of remembering and telling that is not to some extent fatal to the thing remembered. What is it that really happened?' (Segal, 2018, p.223).

On 'Other People's Houses':

'And criticizing everybody ... You don't do that when you live in other people's houses.' (Segal, 2018, p.84).

On 'The Forstye Saga':

' ... maybe Mrs Willoughby could advise her what to read to quickly improve her English. Did Mrs Willoughby have "The Forsyte Saga" which my mother knew very well in German, and that would help her read it in English?' (Segal, 2018, p.93).

On politics:

'Gwenda I liked awfully. The only quarrel I remember having with her resulted from our drawing together, and was the occasion of my first political insight. Gwenda now had her own crayons, and they were a different combination of colours from mine, so we figured out a system of exchange: If she borrowed my pink, I would borrow, say, her sky-blue. However, if my pink, which I never used, was long and her sky-blue, which was much in demand, was short, I would borrow her green, to make up for the difference in length. The complication arose if she needed her sky-blue back while I was still using her green, because then she would have to make amends for the blue with another crayon of equal length, and we forgot which was whose and there were words.' (Segal, 2018, p.123).

On religion:

' "Why ... if he came to earth to save everybody, why is there a war going on this minute and people being killed and Jews being persecuted?" "God moves in a mysterious way his wonders to perform ... " "If he can perform wonders ... what does he need to send his son to earth for?" ' (Segal, 2018, p.179).

' "Come on! You don't believe all that nonsense about God coming down to earth as his own son?" "It's not nearly such nonsense as our prayer book that does nothing but bless God ...' The people of Israel this, and the people of Israel that, as if there were nobody else in the world." ' (Segal, 2018, p.191).

' "If all things are possible ... why does he let wars happen, and concentration camps ... !" ' (Segal, 2018, p.191).

'She said that Jesus was not the son of God and that he was self-deluded ... ' (Segal, 2018, p.193).

On education:

'Then the exams were upon me. I have to this day a recurring nightmare in which I am not opening a book that is only one book on one of many shelves of bookcases beyond bookcases unfolding into eternity; and all the while I feel time drawing dizzyingly away like a receding wave drawing the sand away underfoot. Then I awake and know that I am not, that I will not in any future be, cramming for any imminent examinations, and I feel life good and sweet around me. In my college finals I did as badly as one can without actually failing.' (Segal, 2018, p.214).

REFERENCE

Segal, L. (2018 [1964] ) 'Other people's houses - a novel'. Amazon.com [E-book}. Available at: https://www.amazon.co.uk/Other-People%C2%92s-Houses-Lore-Segal/dp/1565849507 (Accessed 10 November 2024).

[takeeachdayonebookatatime]

Why did you elbow me? 223

Achilles Castle part 125

Lemonade and lies Part 68

Nicholas (Nick) Stephen McSwarek undercover part 32

The car accident part 8

Martha: pov Dr Davidson and Dr Claudia mention that Kate is breathing okay with the oxygen mask which is a good thing. Deputy chief Gates appears, someone called letting her know what happened. She asks where the Captain is Lanie says probably still in the waiting room for the cardiac ward. I didn't tell him she was being moved; he was getting on my nerves. Victoria Gates says she will go look for him because she is not letting him get away with what he did/said.

Deputy chief Gates: pov Captain we need to talk Lanie told me what happened with Kate and I'm not liking what I'm hearing. Is it true she told you to wait on interviewing her and that when Kate's heart rate got a little elevated she told you to leave but you didn't. He says it is, Do you not understand that you could have killed her? Lanie didn't tell her Nick died because the Doctors told her not to. She was having arrhythmia during surgery and she was having a hard time coming off the anesthesia. Her vitals weren't stable. He says it's not a big deal, it's just arrhythmia. I'm so angry right now. Hold on, just arrhythmia. you definitely don't understand it's not just arrhythmia. She's had prior heart surgery, multiple cardiac arrest and even flatlined.

Castle: pov in Kate's room she is covered in even more wires, Lanie is finally getting something to eat. Kate's therapist Dr Burke is coming down to talk with us to make sure we are okay, which is nice. The sedative should keep Kate asleep for hours.

Lanie: pov I just got off the phone with Esposito. He said Jenny called a few minutes ago. The cat had her kittens, she sent photos and videos. They are so cute. Dave asks if they are keeping the kittens or putting them up for adoption. The kittens are up for grabs.

Dave: pov well my grandma is looking for a cat or kitten, she needs a companion since grandpa died a while ago. It's been years and she needs a pet. I think it will help her feel less lonely. Lanie texts Jenny asking if my grandma can have a kitten she says sure no problem.

Alexis: pov Dad said me and Dave can head back to Kate's apartment. The sedative will make Kate sleep for a while. I’m starting to get a headache. It must be all this stress, lucky for me Kate has Tylenol in the cabinet which i take with some water. Dave says let's try and watch some TV for a bit then we can get back to our school work.

Jim: pov I'm sitting with Castle, Lanie and Katie in her room on the cardiac ICU ward. She is still asleep, Katie will be for a while. Martha went to entertain a few patients since the nurse said it was okay. It's been a couple of hours and Katie is starting to wake up, I can tell because it's coming up on the monitor. Lanie hits the call button, a nurse comes in to check her vitals and page Dr Claudia and Josh letting them know she is up. They give her more meds which should keep her asleep till tonight or tomorrow. Josh says to eat while she is asleep we need to take care of ourselves.

Lanie: pov I have talked with Kate's Dr's and they think it's best for her to be sedated for a few days to give her body and heart a rest, it's also better for the baby. The rest of our group is having dinner at the apartment. Me Castle and Jim are heading to the cafeteria to get some food. Neither of them want to leave the hospital. The walk from the cardiac ICU isn't too bad . I guess we are having turkey sandwiches for dinner. The line to pay isn't that long. The 3 of us go over some things while we eat. As we are walking back to Kate’s room I notice Olivia Benson and Fin Tutuola at the front desk asking for her room number. What are you guys doing here, did you drive all this way to visit her.

Fin Tutuola: pov actually me and Liv were visiting a victim. She is staying with her mom out here and we had a few follow up questions so why not stop by and visit Kate. Lanie updates us on everything that has happened with Kate.

Olivia Benson: pov I just couldn't believe it when Cassidy called me yesterday. Me and Fin would have come down yesterday but we were so busy. Castle leads us to her room saying the rest of the family is at her apartment eating dinner and taking a break. It's hard seeing her like this with so many wires and tunes coming from her. I ask Lanie quietly if Kate knows about Nick, Cassidy told me. I just can't imagine what she is going through right now, I struggled after Dodds died the survivor guilt was hard.

Lanie: pov Liv to be honest with you I think she knows he's dead that Captain from the drug unit said something to hear about Nick implying he was dead then she had her medical episode. They are keeping her sedated for the time being. After a while they leave saying they have to get home.

Castle: pov Jim, Mother, Alexis and Dave stop by after dinner to hang out in Kate's room for a bit. Since Jenny is getting closer to her due date and she has the kittens at home she can't come down. Ryan is going to come down with Esposito for a bit and visit with Kate. Lanie mentions Pamela and Parker might be stopping by also.

Alexis: pov Dads leg is all healed now. Since it looks like Kate is going to get a lot of visitors, me and Dave decided to go back to the apartment with Gram. It's actually nice and cozy there, Lanie said something about the couch pulling out into a bed. Let's hope Dave and I can figure it out. To be continued. ……..

[an-annyeoing-writer]

Xiumin x Reader: tender weakness.

➢ Genre: domestic fluff, established relationships

➢ Rating: +13

➢ Warnings: none

➢ Word count: 1 223

➢ Release date: 21st Dec. 2022

➢ It's actually hard to find Minseok GIFs now. You have to scroll a lot. Makes me a bit sad... Min needs more love, okay? Let's provide.

Although some statistical sources reasoned that working online during the quarantine decreased the productivity of employees by even as much as forty percent, you had an impression that ever since employers realized that working from home is a thing, your husband had been spending long evening hours in front of the computer, even despite having his full shift at work already extended by an hour or two almost every day. Such was the life of a corporate employee, and you were aware that the higher up the career ladder, the more busy it would become. Over the years, you learned to accept the state of things, and you tried to stand behind your husband at all times, supporting him as well as you could and making sure to have a rather objective look as to when a lot becomes too much.

And it was a moment like this, you could tell easily.

Minseok’s face, lightened up with the yellow table lamp on the side and intense, blue-ish light of the screen, was tense, with dark circles around his sunken eyes even deeper than on usual. Your beloved did his best to take care of his body, never staying up longer just to entertain the evening, accepting the healthiest meals you prepared with gratitude, even if they weren’t always the tastiest – you were still learning. So, when such obvious signs of fatigue became apparent on his silhouette, you knew that it was about the time to cut it short.

“Min, you need a break” you stated after a minute or two of observing him work in his office room, because you had an impression he didn’t notice you until you spoke.

The man looked up at you, clearly a bit startled to see you, confirming your suspicion.

“Yeah, soon, sorry, I need to finish this” he stated calmly. His lips looked dry.

You couldn’t do much; a job like his was not something you could easily maneuver. But it was Thursday, meaning tomorrow would be Friday, and then there would be weekend, and you would certainly make sure to get him back into shape with a lot of sleep, good food, and some physical activity that would surely boost his morale.

You left the room, but came back a few minutes later with a very big glass of lemon water – if you couldn’t get him to sleep, you needed to at least keep him hydrated for the time being. It was when you leaned over his shoulder, curiously peeking at his work files, was that you ran your fingers over his forehead, tenderly brushing his hair to the side – and you realized that he was burning up.

“You have a fever” you said, a bit harsher than you planned to, so you forced your voice to calm down. “Did you notice?”

You stood at his side, and he straightened himself in the chair, leaning his head into your stomach, at which you put hand on top of his head.

“Yeah… But I’ll be done soon, and I’ll get some rest after, okay?”

“I’ll fetch you some meds. Try to postpone stuff if you can, they should understand.”

He nodded, reaching to hold your hand and pressing a chaste kiss into your fingers.

“Love you” you whispered, brushing his cheek with your thumb.

He returned the confession with an even softer voice, and you took it as a cue to leave him for now. At least, you had an excuse to check on him every few minutes or so. You brought him some medicine, followed by an effervescent vitamin tablet once he drank up his lemon water.

It did happen before, it was bound to happen once in a while. It was more than likely that a bit of rest would be sufficient to get him back into shape, but you knew that time was not something he had the luxury of. So you decided to do all you could to make the process easier: preparing his clothes for the next day, as well as pajamas, meals, and everything else you could do to decrease his workload a little. An air humidifier with essential oils may not have been something you believed would cure him, but since you knew it could help him relax and sleep better, you decided to also give it a go.

It was a bit past ten when you heard Minseok leave the shower and walk towards your shared bedroom. You were casually scrolling through your phone, already laid under the cozy duvet, when he sat down in front of you, letting out a small sigh. You put your phone on the bedside drawer, preparing to give him your undivided attention from then on.

“I’m tired” he admitted with a small smile.

“No wonder” you huffed, pushing the bedsheets away so he could find his place among them, next to you. A heating pad you put in there made the space warm for him to join, and he laid down, facing you. You took it as a cue to lay similarly, and the two of you just stared at each other for a few moments.

“Do you think I’ll get sick from this?” he asked.

“Why ask me? You know better how you feel, no?”

“I feel like you know me better than I know myself” he admitted with a small smile.

You pondered on it for a short moment.

“Yeah, I think you may get sick, but you should be okay in a few days” you admitted honestly. Maybe he was right – you were the one to take care of him almost at all times, after all.

Your husband let out a chuckle at the confidence in your statement.

“I took a day off tomorrow, so…”

You let out a dramatic gasp.

“Don’t tell me, you’re starting to realize what’s good for your health? Come on, I’ll lose my job if you keep going.”

His cheeks reddened even through the fever giving them a slight flush. You reached out and touched his face, tenderly brushing your thumb over his skin.

“Thank you, though” you said. “I appreciate that I won’t need to worry for you all day long. I unfortunately still have to work. But don’t worry, I’ll leave everything for you, so just stay in bed, eat, drink, and don’t watch too much TV or your head will hurt” you instructed thoughtfully.

“Ah, how do you know it’ll hurt? You really know me too well” he whined, laughing through the embarrassment that made his face even darker.

You covered your mouth, realizing your laughter is starting to get out of hand. But you noticed that, despite the cheerful atmosphere between the two of you, Minseok’s eyes were starting to slip closed every few seconds or so, and he pulled the duvet over his shoulder so much that it almost covered his face, as to provide him as much warmth as possible.

“You should go to sleep” you whispered, slowly easing him into the night.

The man nodded, his eyes finally closing as you put your hand on his cheek, slow, steady movements lulling him into sleep faster than normally, and his body finally relaxing.

“Don’t worry about anything.” Your voice barely audible, you made sure it would not disturb his slumber. “I’ll take care of you, always. Good night.”

[writingdotcoffee]

#225: What Fears Hold You Back as a Writer?

Everyone experiences fear in some form. Most of the time, fear protects you. Sometimes, it holds you back. People handle fear in many ways, based on their previous experience and other factors.

What I find annoying is that fear has a very negative connotation in society. Talking about your fears is hard. There's a lot of shame around it — being afraid is only for the weak. Some people go through their lives without ever admitting even to themselves that they're afraid. They make bullshit excuses and procrastinate without ever confronting what may be holding them back.

Fear and Writing

I believe that a lot of problems that writers have come from fear. It may be the fear of judgement, rejection or failure. You may be worried that a specific decision will derail the story and render your book worthless. Many writers are terrified of their inner critic.

I mean, are you really, really so busy that you can't squeeze a 15-minute writing session into your day? Or are you afraid that if you actually write the story, you'll find out just how bad a writer you are?

The insidious thing about this type of fear is that it manifests as avoidance and bullshit excuses. These are a smokescreen — a way for yourself to protect your ego.

How to Get Over Yourself?

If it weren't for journaling, I would never be aware of the many (often irrational) fears that I have. When I'm struggling with something, I'll write a journal entry about it. It helps me to pause and consider what might be going on.

Is it a superficial issue? Do I need to better manage my time? Or does it run deeper?

My journal is a safe place where I can look at my fears, understand them and try to break them down. That's the first step: admitting that you're afraid. You don't have to do that in public or with anyone else. I still probably wouldn't.

When you identify what you're afraid of, you can start asking questions. What's the problem? What's the worst thing that could happen? Once you cut through the layers right down to the fear, it can be pretty easy to confront.

Don’t be afraid to be afraid. True bravery isn’t the absence of fear, it’s going ahead in spite or it.

About the Author

Hi, I’m Radek 👋. I’m a writer, software engineer and the founder of Writing Analytics — an editor and writing tracker designed to help you beat writer’s block and create a sustainable writing routine.

I publish a post like this every week. Want to know when the next one comes out? Sign up for my email list below to get it right in your inbox.

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Past Editions

#224: What Will Your Story Be?, December 2021

#223: Consistency is Key, November 2021

#222: Passion and Grind, November 2021

#221: Going From Zero to One, November 2021

#220: How to Make Your Writing Compound, November 2021

[alaskasmonsters]

Gentle Hands | Shigaraki Tomura

with a quirk like shigaraki’s, physical touch had never been something another person had trusted him with. the fear of what he could do proved to be too great to get close enough. everyone was scared to touch him...everyone but you.

part two 

pairing: shigaraki tomura x gn!reader

w.c: 3. 223

warnings: canon-typical violence, mentions of blood, descriptions of injuries, shigs is touch-starved :c

a.n: this took me way too long to turn out like this...i seriously don’t know what happened along the way but this was meant to go an entirely different direction...idek.

Shigaraki’s room was enveloped in darkness. The only source of light coming from where you had carefully cracked the door open after several unanswered knocks. It barely illuminated the small space inside, only revealing the silhouettes and rough placement of the furniture.

You’d never been inside of Shigaraki’s room before. There had never been a reason.

As the league’s personal medical support (or nurse, something Dabi liked to refer you to) you’d mostly only talked to any of them if there was an emergency that required your help. Then they’d meet you in the “living room” (you hesitated using homey words like that in connection to the hovel the members of the league had resided in the last few months).

Not that you didn’t get along with them, but you couldn’t really say you were particularly close with any of them. Criminals liked to keep their distance. Distance meant safety, it was the first rule in the handbook basically. Shigaraki was no different. He was the most mysterious of them you’d say, even more distanced with you it seemed. Saying there was no reason to grow attached to a NPC, like you were a dog that would be returned to their rightful owner soon anyway.

It didn’t bother you much. You knew the man needed his personal space, he had his reasons to be suspicious of new people, to be hesitant to let anyone too close...they all had.

That’s the price they paid in a life like that, or maybe they had already been like this before they ever became villains.

Entering Shigaraki’s room now and without permission was probably the closest you’ve ever come to being disintegrated, you thought as you carefully peeked inside. The guilt from intruding already crawled up your stomach. You wouldn’t normally do this, but you were worried after Kurogiri had told you about an “incident” this morning.

It had left Shigaraki badly injured and hiding himself in the darkness of his own four walls, since they had returned. Kurogiri hadn’t told you any details, but you could tell whatever happened had been bad, judging by his concerned tone when he’d requested you to look after the man. He asked you to heal him even if he were to refuse and you had agreed immediately, although you doubted you’d get close enough to Shigaraki if he didn’t want it.

The darkness was thick before your eyes, you could hardly tell the difference between the bed and the rest of the room. Not even the tv’s light was burning...you had expected Shigaraki to play a game if he really were as frustrated as Kurogiri had made it sound like.

The only reason you spotted a glimpse of where the man was located was due to the way the light reflected off the white strands of his hair. He was on the ground behind his bed.

“Shigaraki?” you called his name softly, not sure if he’d already noticed you or if maybe he’d fallen asleep.

You got no answer.

“Kurogiri sent me. Can I come in?”

You waited a minute, probably longer, but when there was still no answer you let out a heavy sigh.

“I’ll take that as a “I don’t mind either way”.”

You squeezed through the small space between the frame and the door, not daring to expose the man to more of the light he seemed to be so sensitive to. At least you guessed that that was the reason he was sitting in the darkness. Maybe he was just feeling emo, Shigaraki seemed the type.

You closed the door behind you, plunging the room into darkness again. This turned out to be a bad idea, since now you were both without sight and you had to slowly and carefully approach where you remembered the bed to be. You could only speak of luck you hadn’t bumped into anything before you made contact with the bedframe, using it to navigate closer to where you suspected Shigaraki to cower at, sliding down to sit on the ground as well.

You sat in silence for a while, making sure he didn’t want you to leave after all, but Shigaraki stayed quiet, the only sign he was still next to you was the sound of his ragged breathing.

You debated what would be the best approach. Should you scoot closer? Maybe you should start with telling him Kurogiri had sent you? Or maybe you could let the two of you stay in silence for a little while?

Approaching Shigaraki when he was in a vulnerable state was similar to a wild animal that had been injured. You had to be careful about it.

“You hurt your hands,” the words slipped your mouth.

Not careful enough.

Had you seriously gone with the worst approach you could have possibly chosen? Good job, Y/n!

Shigaraki didn’t curse you out so you guessed it was fine after all. Maybe his hands were off worse than you had initially thought...

“I want to fix them, if that’s alright but i’d need a little bit of light to do so,” you explained, keeping your voice quiet and calm.

There wasn’t an answer for several minutes. You started to grow restless, thinking that maybe you had overstepped a line, maybe it was better if you left again…

Before you could though you heard a grumbling agreement, barely audible, much closer than you had expected. A second later a dim light illuminated the small room.

You had to close your eyes to adjust to the sudden brightness before you could finally look at Shigaraki, who was sitting a few feet away from you, his back leaned against the matratze of his bed.

He looked miserable, his face was lowered so he couldn’t meet your eyes and his features were hidden by the messy white locks.

But what shocked you most was his hands. He had spread his fingers, palms up, on his lap so you saw the actual damage that the attacker had done.

His palms were blood-smeared, cut open, some cuts running so deep you thought you could see parts of the bone peaking out from between the damaged skin.

You felt bile rise up your throat at the view.

It looked painful, cruel. As if someone had tried to ruin his hands in the most painful way possible.

You inched closer, eyes trained on the damage.

Shigaraki tensed up as you scooted closer and you stopped immediately, looking up into his face, making sure you didn’t overstep again.

He was still avoidant of your eyes, shrunken in on himself with his shoulders hunched. He looked like a scared child to you...

“May I?” you asked him, desperately hoping he’d say yes.

His eyes only flickered between you and his hands once before he gave a soft nod.

You carefully reached out to grab the backside of his hands, meaning to pull them closer for you to inspect. The way Shugaraki froze at your touch made you pause and you realized with dread that you had forgotten to ask if it was okay to touch him. He must be in pain, of course he was.

You quickly removed your hands again, giving him a concerned look.

“I’m sorry Shigaraki-kun, did i hurt you?”

He frowned at your question, eyes quickly jumping between your expression and your hands just inches beneath his, waiting to reach out again if he’d allowed it.

He seemed conflicted for a second, but then he shook his head.

You chose not to question it, only giving a soft nod in response before reaching out again. This time you gently wrapped your fingers around his wrists instead, drawing his hands closer so you could inspect them better.

The light was still too dim to see the most gruesome parts of the injury, but even without it you could easily get an idea of what had occured.

The wounds were too deep, the blood that came out of the slashes in a dark flow...this wasn’t caused by a normal knife. Rather by another person’s quirk, one related to mutilation because how else would you describe the cruelty of the wounds inflicted.

It probably made it impossible to heal by itself, too.

Whoever did this had wanted to make Shigaraki’s quirk absolutely useless, damaging his hands beyond repair in the most cruel way.

And while you did know he’d caused a lot of pain with those hands, the idea someone had tried to mutilate them made you sick to your stomach.

You let out a deep breath, trying to calm yourself down as you leaned down to hover just above Shigaraki’s hands.

Thankfully the league of villains had you and your quirk, seeing as you could heal almost everything, as long as the wound was still fresh and cells weren’t too damaged to manipulate.

Dabi had been the one to introduce you since he’d found you years before when you first started helping him with his unfit quirk. You weren’t a villain, only by association, but you’d always had a soft spot for difficult cases. You hadn’t been able to heal his scars then, since the cells were already dead and the injuries were old and your quirk wouldn’t let you revive anything. But you’d suggested to take care of all the newer wounds

Now you were working with the league of villains or maybe helped out was a better way to phrase it, considering the only method of payment you’d receive was fast food.

You focused your attention on Shigaraki’s injuries, leaning even closer to be able to see everything up close. It was necessary to use your quirk appropriately.

“Ready?” you asked, eyes searching for Shigaraki.

They were wide and attentive. He looked nervous if you had to guess, although he would have denied it if you had asked.

He gave you a nod and you smiled at him, giving his wrists a reassuring squeeze. You decided to ignore the way his eyebrows knit together at the gesture. You imagined he didn’t like touch very much.

You shift your attention to his left palm first, removing your hand from where they had gripped the man’s wrist to let it hover over the injured skin. The tell-tale sign of buzzing spread through your skin as you focused all your senses on the damage you’d been inspecting.

The sight of the cuts running oh so deep, the smell of iron stinging your nose, the feeling of broken and ruined skin and bones and muscles.

A green light, slowly growing brighter and bigger, more intense in color too formed and enveloped your hand. Your fingers inching closer and closer to the bloodied and ripped skin. Just right before your hand would touch his you stopped, the light now extending until it was enveloping his hand as well.

Shigaraki’s fingers twitched, his wrist tensed under your touch. You pressed down on the juncture to reassure him you’d hurry up.

You watched his skin pulling bac, his hands shaking a little when you concentrated on repairing the muscles that have been torn apart before.

It was a slow process, you knew that. You were known for officiency not speed, after all. And you were aware it hurt, probably just as terrible as when the blade had ripped through his skin in the first place. Regenerating injuries like this would usually take weeks and months, a dozen operations and it still would never go back to the way it once was. Doing it your way, basically forcing the cells to regenerate, speeding up the natural process and enhancing it...it took energy from both you and him.

His breathing was ragged, his arm was shaking in your grip, more intense than before and you hated it, hated knowing he was hurting and you couldn’t do anything to make the process go smoother for him, make it hurt any less.

All you could think of was running your thumb over the inside of his wrists, trying to reassure him like that. Trying to signal him that it would be over soon.

You didn’t know if it helped but you certainly felt his body freeze up for a moment. Maybe that was just because of the procedure though.

You watched the skin grow over again, slowly, and leave behind a slightly bloodied but smooth skinned palm. Shigaraki sank back into his seat, letting out a small huff as the pain stopped.

You took the time to inspect his palm, letting your fingers glide over the smooth skin and noting how it all seemed to be back to how they were originally with joy.

“Does your left hand feel okay? Flex your fingers a little.”

When he stayed still you looked up, Shigaraki’s gaze already focused on your face. There was something unreadable in the way he looked at you. He almost looked confused.

You bit your lip, glancing between his hands and his face as dread slowly rose in your stomach.

“You can flex your fingers...right?” you asked nervously.

What if you made a mistake? What if you messed up with his muscles?

Shigaraki’s finger twitched, before he bent them. Spreading them apart before creating a fist. You quickly pulled your hand away to leave him the room to move around a little, returning to tap his skin once more when you saw he was done.

“You feel that?” you asked, less nervous now that you knew that he could still move it.

The only answer you got was a grunt but that’s all you needed.

You moved on to his right hand then. Clasping his wrist with one hand to stabilize him and raising your other just above his palm. You repeated the procedure once more, green light enveloping both your hands as your face was set into a deep frown of concentration.

You stroked his wrist with your thumb once more as soon as you felt Shigaraki tense up again.

He was trembling even harder this time and you couldn’t tell if it was only because he was already exhausted or because this hand had been through more damage.

All you could feel was that the level of damage must be similar, the time it took you to fix the connections of the muscles felt about the same. Then his skin grew over slowly.

You repeated your check up, smoothing your fingers over the skin of his palm and telling him to flex his fingers. He reacted quicker this time, clenching and unclenching his fist a few times.

You gave his wrist a last squeeze before you let go, satisfied and happy you’d done a good job. Of course you wouldn’t know for sure until a few days later when Shigaraki was able to tell you if his hands were giving him any problems. But for now Shigaraki looked a lot better.

His pale face had filled with a little bit of color again, although his eyes were weirdly unfocused as he lowered his head to inspect his hands. You watched him in confusion, as he flexed his fingers again. Wasn’t he sure if you’ve done a good job? Did he feel pain?

“Is everything alright? Wait, lemme see again.”

You leaned forward, softly gripping his hands to pull them closer to inspect once more. Shigaraki froze up at the contact again and you frowned when you saw that the skin was all smooth and fixed, giving no reason for the man to act so tensed up.

You searched his eyes, only finding him already staring at you with an undefinable look in his eyes. You were just about to open your mouth to ask him about it. Not necessarily why he was acting so weirdly, but more specifically what haunted him.

Before you could do that, he surprised you with pulling his hands back before opening his palms which were facing upwards.

You watched in confusion.

He stretched his fingers, raising his hand upwards. The motion made you cock your head to the side. He was looking at you with narrowed eyes, clearly expecting something from you. Thinking you knew what he tried to ask of you you placed your hand on top of his, noticing him spreading his thumb apart to not touch you with all five of his fingers.

Shigaraki searched your face for a reaction but you didn’t know what kind of reaction that was supposed to be.

“I knew you were kinda crazy but that’s another level.”

“Excuse me?” you gaped at him.

“Only a crazy person wouldn’t be afraid to touch me.”

Gears started turning in your head and your cheeks heated up at the realization that that had been the reason why he’d frozen up. He wasn’t used to touch. He had been probably overwhelmed having your hands all over him.

“Oh...I guess I trust you wouldn’t disintegrate my hands.”

He raised an eyebrow at you.

“I’m useful aren’t i? Maybe I'd be more worried about a foot or knee cap but I kinda need my hands for the healing.”

He hummed in agreement, seemingly satisfied knowing you weren’t a total moron.

Although to be quite honest you weren’t so sure if you’d flinch from his touch even if it was directed towards your face. You didn’t know if you had it in you to mistrust him. When it had come to this point you didn’t know, somewhere along the way you had just stopped questioning your growing positive feelings towards the leader of the league of villains (and the other members as well).

Sometimes you liked to think both of you had mutual respect for each other. Enough to not randomly disintegrate the other person, that was.

“I’m sorry i made you uncomfortable, though. I should have asked beforehand.”

He snorted, fingers flexing under your grip, bending to run them over the palms of your hand.

“I don’t mind,” he muttered.

You didn’t think it was all he had wanted to say, but whatever else tried to leave his mouth was held back by Shigaraki biting his lip. You didn’t question it.

The man continued exploring your skin and you  spread your fingers a little wider to give him more access. It was fascinating to you, how curiously he was exploring your skin, like a small child eager to experience new sensations. He had cocked his head to the side, eyeing you from beneath his hair, calculating, waiting.

He reached for your hand and you let him. Let him grip and turn it, until he could easily intertwine his fingers with yours, hesitant and careful to touch you, mindful to spread his pinky to not touch your skin.

You felt your cheeks heat up at the gesture, curiously glancing up at the man that was so hesistant with physical touch usually.

“Shigaraki-kun?”

He shook his head, eyes focused on your hands

“Tomura.”

You smiled, surprised but satisfied for some reason.

“Tomura,” you whispered, closing your grip around his hands.

Taglist: @crystal-lilac​

[icannotgetoverbirds]

I posted 6,358 times in 2022

That's 6,305 more posts than 2021!

223 posts created (4%)

6,135 posts reblogged (96%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@the-cooler-anon

@twiggyfrogblog

@afreshlywoundgoose

@wisteriaalu

@carameloshaemployee

I tagged 1,331 of my posts in 2022

#byrd saves for later - 152 posts

#ty twiggy! - 142 posts

#byrd is an exmo - 81 posts

#byrd chirps - 72 posts

#exmo - 71 posts

#exmormon - 69 posts

#ex mormon - 68 posts

#im feeling very exmo in this chilis tonight - 66 posts

#ex cult - 65 posts

#ex religious - 35 posts

Longest Tag: 128 characters

#im out of the v̶̨̻̳̮͈͖̖̦͓̻̏̉͂o̶̖̝̳͒͜į̷͈͍̣̭̥̫̹͍̙̆̄́̍̍͒̀̓̎͒̈̚d̷̨̧̠̞̲̣̮͔̹̟͘͘͝ͅ so now maybe i can actually do something worthwhile

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

the model and the letter

a piece written by a friend of mine, who goes by Kea, about growing up as a little mormon girl.

A little girl does her best to sit quietly, her arms folded, her eyes closed, in the tiny plastic chair. She wears a dress that is too warm and a little itchy. Somebody is praying at the front of the room. Her eyes open accidentally, and her heart rate speeds up before she squeezes them shut, admonishing herself for making a mistake.

The sacrament is in a few minutes. She can repent of her sins then - though she reminds herself that she’s too young to need this: her sins are not her own until she turns eight. Her sins belong to her parents, and she feels a twinge of guilt for burdening them with her mistakes. Still, it’s such a small thing, which she recognizes, and it was an honest mistake that was immediately corrected.

When the sacrament is passed, she eyes the young men bringing around the bread and water. They look awfully nice in their suits. I bet I’d look nice in a suit, she thinks. I bet they’re more comfortable than this dress.

She does not realize that, despite what everyone tells her, she will grow up to be a man with a severe appreciation for button-downs and ties.

At eight, the little girl has spent much of her time wanting to tuck her hair into a baseball cap, to be the girl that everyone assumes is a boy. She doesn’t really want to pull the cap off to let her hair fall out, though. She’s not really sure what’s so exciting about that.

She wears a white dress as an older man conducts an interview for her baptism. He asks her questions. He asks her if she has what she needs.

She lies.

She does not have what she needs. She believes that being baptized will bring it to her. She believes that this lie is okay, because he does not catch it, and if she needs the baptism to gain what she does not have, surely it must be acceptable to say what is necessary to be baptized.

She changes into a white jumpsuit, and her father chants a predetermined prayer before pushing her under the water. When she comes back up, she feels… something. 

If nothing else, she has completed the ritual that will allow her to be accepted by her family and the people around her. The water is warm, and she takes great pleasure in swimming away from her father with movements she categorizes as frog-like.

After she dries off and changes back into her ceremonial white dress, several men put their hands on her head, one chanting a different predetermined prayer to confirm the baptism.

She never truly receives what she was looking for.

At fourteen, she is confused, worried, and unsure. She is anxious, and she has realized that she is queer. She thinks she belongs, anyway. After all, her sexuality is the single most acceptable within her community: asexuality makes abstinence incredibly easy.

Her next ritual is with a prophesier of sorts, called the patriarch. Again, a man lays his hands on her head, and speaks her future. She hoped he would have answers for her.

He does not.

She leaves deflated but with a smile anyways - his words still meant something, right?

At seventeen, she begins to question things. After all, she wants to date eventually, but dating a man seems to not be in the cards. She wants to try and date women, but it’s forbidden by God Himself.

She tries to think her way out of it - if God loves humanity, how can He hate love? If He asked us to love one another, how can He accept the hatred His people have for those that love differently?

She can no longer think her way out of it. She shelves the issue, files it away neatly in her brain under conundrums she may never understand.

At nineteen, it hits him. First, that he refuses to be a part of an organization that treats queer people as less than human, as less worthy of glory in God, and secondly, that he is, in fact, a trans man.

Of all the things he is excited to do now that his community no longer restricts him, by far the most thrilling concept is being himself.

He finds a new community with others like him, and learns from the people within that there is more to his old community than he realized.

He learns of an evaluation first. The BITE model, which damns the organization he grew up in entirely, labeling it a cult.

He wants to think his way out of it, but he knows that he simply can’t do that anymore. His filing system has to be recategorized entirely. It’s time to relabel many of the things he learned as belonging to a cult.

On the bright side, he can now remove several concepts from the conundrums he may never understand and sort them into proper categories.

Suddenly, he is no longer an inactive or former member. He is a cult survivor, and he sees startling connections between the actions of the cult and the actions of abusers.

He tries to make a molehill out of a mountain, to level his cult with religions that have similar traits.

Then he hears about the CES letter. He reads it, and suddenly there is more recategorization to be done. An uncomfortably significant amount of fog clears from his thoughts. Things have never been right here. 

See the full post

100 notes - Posted June 27, 2022

#4

if you've got any ex-mormon friends/moots, be sure to check up on them this weekend. conference is happening and it can be a really hard time for us.

to all my exmo moots and any exmos that may see this post: it's going to be okay. i may not know what it is that you need to hear right now, but above all else, it's going to be okay.

it's okay to be scared. it's okay if this is triggering. it's okay if you watch it or don't. it's okay if you need to take some time away from everything today. it's okay if you need to keep yourself busy today. it's okay to be angry, to be bitter, to be sad.

be extra gentle with yourself this weekend. it's going to be okay.

110 notes - Posted October 1, 2022

#3

so many mlm yearning blogs, so many of them single. WHERE ARE YOU PEOPLE. I'M LONELY TOO. CAN WE AT LEAST BE FRIENDS. FOR THE LOVE OF GOD CAN WE AT LEAST BE FRIENDS.

224 notes - Posted October 5, 2022

#2

resource: good picrews for fat people

If anybody wants to help me put together a proper rating system, I'd love to hear about that. In the meantime, this post will be used as a place where I collect and share picrews that have any level of fat representation.

The following have fat in the title or are made specifically with fat people in mind:

Just a warning, I'm not sure if the second one was actually made benevolently or for less kind reasons than representation.

This one isn't made specifically for fat people but has a larger body type that's done surprisingly well.

See the full post

569 notes - Posted June 22, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Fat people deserve better.

We are not repulsive. We are not vile. We are not appalling.

We are people.

If my existence "promotes obesity"? Good!

You want to know why?

I am not promoting the idea that someone should become obese. I am not going to attempt to police someone else's body and lifestyle like sizeist people do.

I am promoting the idea that people of all sizes are deserving of the bare minimum of basic human respect.

This should not be a radical idea. This should not be something we have to fight about.

99% of the time? Being fat is not a choice. And you know what? Even if it was - even if I was shoving big macs into my greasy fucking maw every 2 hours?

I would still be deserving of basic decency.

I would still be deserving of proper medical care that takes into account things other than my size and diet.

I would still be deserving of comfort, of clothing that fits.

You want to know the worst part of all of this?

Fat kids deserve better, and all too often, they don't get it.

Fat kids deserve to be able to be active without being mocked for the way their body moves.

Fat kids deserve to be seen as children rather than medical problems that need solving.

Fat kids deserve clothing that fits them and makes them feel good about themselves.

Fat kids deserve to eat, and to eat good food.

Fat kids deserve to eat cake at birthday parties like everyone else.

Fat kids deserve to go trick-or-treating like all the other kids.

Fat kids deserve love. Fat kids deserve respect.

Fat kids deserve a proper childhood without having to pay a toll of trying to change their bodies.

Fat kids deserve acceptance for their bodies as they are and as they will be - not pleasantries about how they'll grow up to be skinny, so they don't need to learn to love themselves before then.

Fat people deserve better.

1,667 notes - Posted June 4, 2022

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