#I was about to follow you back until I remembered I would be subjecting myself to weekly swarms of my own post

[bubblegum-gf]

Hi, I see my mutual has found your ask box. I thank you oh so much for RTGame out of touch Thursday and I will be doing it again <3

y'know when I read this ask I assumed you would be doing it again on thursday, not

[luckyladylily]

So a few months ago there was the discourse about would you rather meet a man or a bear in the woods. I didn't want to touch it while the discourse was hot and everyone dug in hard because those are not good conditions for nuance, but I waited until today, June 1st, for a specific reason.

I'm not going to take a position in the bear vs man debate because I don't think it matters. What is really being asked here is how afraid are you of men? Specifically, unexpected men who are, perhaps, strange.

People have a lot of very real fear of men that comes from a lot of very real places. Back when I was first transitioning in 2015 and 2016, I decided to start presenting as a woman in public even though I did not pass in the slightest.

I live in a red state. I knew other trans women who had been attacked by men, raped by men. I knew I was taking a risk by putting myself out there. I was the only visibly trans person in the area of campus I frequented, and people made sure I never forgot that. Most were harmless enough and the worst I got from them was curious stares. Others were more aggressive, even the occasional threat. I had to avoid public bathrooms, of course, and always be aware of my surroundings.

I know how frightening it is to be alone at night while a pair of men are following behind you and not knowing if they are just going in the same direction or if they want to start something - made all the worse for the constant low level threat I had been living under for over a year by just being visibly trans in a place where many are openly hostile to queer people. You have to remember, this was at the height of the first wave of bathroom law discussions, a lot of people were very angry about trans women in particular. My daily life was terrifying at times. I was never the subject of direct violence, but I knew trans women who had been.

I want you to keep all that in mind.

So man or bear is really the question "how afraid of men are you?", and the question that logically follows is "What if there was a strange man at night in a deserted parking lot?" or "What if you were alone in an elevator with a man?" or "What if you met a strange man in the woman's bathroom?"

My state recently passed an anti trans bathroom bill. The rhetoric they used was about protecting women and children from "strange men", aka trans women.

Conservatives hijack fear for their bigoted agenda.

When I first started presenting as a woman the campus apartment complex was designed for young families. The buildings were in a large square with playgrounds in the center, and there were often children playing. I quickly noticed that when I took my daughter out to play, often several children would immediately stop what they were doing and run back inside. It didn't take me long to confirm that the parents were so afraid of "the strange man who wears skirts" that their children were under strict instructions to literally run away as soon as they saw me.

"How afraid are you of a strange man being near your children?"

I mentioned above that I had to avoid public bathrooms. This was not because of men. It was because of women who were so afraid of random men that they might get violent or call someone like the police to be violent for them if I ever accidentally presented myself in a way that could be interpreted as threatening, when my mere presence could be seen as a threat. If I was in the library studying and I realized that it was just me and one other woman I would get up and leave because she might decide that stranger danger was happening.

Your fear is real. Your fear might even come from lived experiences. None of that prevents the fact that your fear can be violent. Women's fear of men is one of the driving forces of transmisogyny because it is so easy to hijack. And it isn't just trans women. Other trans people experience this, and other queer people too. Racial minorities, homeless people, neurodivergent people, disabled people.

When you uncritically engage with questions like man or bear, when you uncritically validate a culture of reactive fear, you are paving the way for conservatives and bigots to push their agenda. And that is why I waited until pride month. You cannot engage and contribute to the culture of reactive fear without contributing to queerphobia of all varieties. The sensationalist culture of reactive fear is a serious queer issue, and everyone just forgot that for a week as they argued over man or bear. I'm not saying that "man" is the right answer. I am saying that uncritically engaging with such obvious click bait trading on reactive fear is a problem. Everyone fucked up.

It is not a moral failing to experience fear, but it is a moral responsibility to keep a handle on that fear and know how it might harm others.

[copperbadge]

I was making breakfast and listening to an episode of Just King Things this morning, which is a podcast I do recommend -- two very smart English teachers are reading the books of Stephen King in publication order and discussing them. This could go extremely awry except they're both highly conscious of his failings as well as his skill, so they do really well handling a lot of his less salutatory content.

They've hit the point in King's ouvre (this episode was about Hearts In Atlantis) that follows his recovery from the car accident that very nearly killed him, where he was struck by a van while out walking. One of them pointed out that it seems as though he came back from nearly dying determined to write the wildest shit imaginable and only write what he wanted, which struck a chord in me this time despite having listened to this episode before. Perhaps because I was thinking about my own writing and where it's going in the short term (there are a couple of short stories I want to do that I don't quite have a way into yet). I generally don't think about the drift of my creativity in the long term because when I do I usually draw the wrong conclusions.

I don't really classify my life, the way some people who've had high-impact injuries do, as before-TBI and after-TBI (Traumatic Brain Injury -- the fairly severe concussion I had in January of 2020). For one thing, given I had to cancel a trip to NYC because of it, it may have saved my life; I almost certainly would have caught COVID as someone with known lung issues in New York at the time. For another, the TBI was way scarier to almost everyone else; for me it was just one more dumb injury I gave myself and I didn't even remember most of it so it hardly registered. I used to open the story of it with a joke about waking up not remembering going to bed the night before, but nobody ever found it funny.

It's true that there are changes it wrought in my life, though. Even practical stuff like making sure my living space doesn't have tripping hazards and continuing to wear a fitbit even though I don't really need to (the fitbit told us, the morning after, exactly when the concussion happened, because it registered a heart-rate spike when I fell). For weeks after, I had to move slowly and put off making important decisions because I couldn't trust my physical or intellectual judgement; I didn't even jaywalk in my own neighborhood because I couldn't be sure I was judging the cars' speeds properly. For about a year after I had periodic post-concussion syndrome which basically just slammed me back into concussion space, which wasn't painful or upsetting but was definitely inconvenient.

And it's also undeniable that my writing shifted after the injury. It's not necessarily because of the injury, since my initial recovery from the TBI and the declaration of quarantine happened at roughly the same time, and anyone who tells you that a years-long global pandemic didn't impact their artistic expression is selling you a line. But the last thing I wrote before the TBI was the first draft of Six Harvests, and aside from the Six Harvests publication draft, which had fairly minimal changes, almost all that I've written has been blue-sky, light-hearted, PG-rated romance. It's been on my mind that I've been writing different subject matter from what I used to, but the timing of it didn't strike me until just recently.

I don't mind, really. I love fandom and I support fanfic in whatever expression it comes, but I'm also happy writing my own stories. While I'm aware it's been years since I've meaningfully written fanfic, it doesn't bother me per se, as long as I'm writing. It bothered me much more when I could write fanfic but not original fic, especially in those last few awful months at my last job. I'm proud of the literary and non-genre fiction I've written in the past, but it's also much more trying and frustrating to write at times, so I'm enjoying having a different sort of challenge that feels more fulfilling in the process. I'm sure at some point I'll go back to literary fiction -- there are ways in which it's hard to avoid turning the later Shivadh novels into literary fiction, being honest -- but for now I like what I'm writing, and I'm writing primarily to please myself and without regard to what's necessarily rational or linear.

Just struck me, is all, that it's by far the most noticeable major shift in my work. I do sort of wonder what will be next.

[rubberduckyrye]

You know I've seen quite a few people say they're wanting to make v3 rewrites lately--and as someone who is actively working on one by myself, I feel like I should give some advice. I know I'm nowhere NEAR done with Twins AU, but I've made a ridiculous amount of progress and I think these things have greatly helped me out personally

So here are my tips for making a V3 rewrite and actually making it stick/not to burn out before the first chapter!

This is important. Don't try to please everyone. You will never please everyone. Write this for yourself, and you will find an audience. People can and will hate your fic no matter what you do. Don't try to please them, they are not your target audience-- so Write this story for, first and foremost, yourself. It'll feel so much more rewarding if you do I promise.

V3's main theme is extremely muddied due to how the narrative was and how open ended the game was left, and from my own research, no one can agree on what V3 was trying to say about truth and lies, or Reality and Fiction. If you want to rewrite this story, you're going to need to narrow down what you want your rewrite to say about the themes presented.

PLAN THE EVIDENCE AND MURDERS AS THOROUGHLY AS YOU CAN. I think not knowing what I was going to do for the cases and trials really scared me for the longest time until I essentially sat myself down and fleshed out all of the cases for Twins AU. Make evidence lists, do research on how your murder cases might go, the works. It's a lot of work but I personally followed this post and also made an evidence list to help me out plot out the murders for Twins AU. This is also a great way to flesh out your protagonist as well, since you get to explore their note-taking style and what kind of language they'd use for taking notes and if they have opinions about certain things.

Write a summary of each character in the story. DR games have a big cast and V3 has an even BIGGER cast than usual, so it's good to write down summaries for all of the characters. I also suggest really studying each character too, even if you plan on changing a character to better suit your tastes (or to get rid of offensive material.... looking at you Angie) you still want to keep the core of their character intact for fans of that character.

Speaking of characters, make sure to try and remember to write each one as a human being, even if they aren't human (Kiibo for example). Develop them, give them quirks and flaws, motivations and wants and desires and dreams. Even if you hate a character, doing this much character study will help you keep them in character and keep their motivations reasonable and understandable.

If you don't have a good grasp on a character, study harder. Don't go looking for other people's interpretations or try to be a crowd pleaser. Make your own interpretation, and that interpretation becomes special to your rewrite.

If you plan on changing a character, for the love of GOD do your research first. Don't go accidentally making Angie into a worse racist caricature of Pacific Islanders Please and Thank You. Actually, just do a ton of research in subject you think might be relevant to a character or the plot--like Gonta and how ableism prevails in his story. Like how Shuichi has anxiety up the wazoo and how Maki has learned helplessness. Study and research hard.

Pace yourself--I don't think people realize how GIANT a V3 rewrite project is--remember that this game is extremely long and you cannot write this in a single month. Once all of your planning is done, write a reasonable amount for it each day. For me, I'm able to crank out 2k a day because I type absurdly fast, but most people would probably want to start at maybe 500 words a day.

If you're not having fun, step back. You might be burnt out and need a break, or maybe the scene you're writing is just not working. Take time to assess your own feelings and do what is appropriate to resolve them.

Don't feel too discouraged if you need to rewrite a whole scene--it happens to the best of us and sometimes things are just not working. It's not lost progress to retry--consider the scene you are replacing as a rough draft you need to remake. I've had to erase huge 1k chunks due to this.

Reward yourself for big accomplishments! When I finished the prologue, I threw myself and my editor ( @trans-shuichisaihara ) a pizza party, and I plan on doing something like that again, albeit probably cheaper. Reward yourself for huge milestones! Hell, I owe myself at least one treat for two chapters I've written, but tbh I've been having so much fun just writing that doing so is rewarding within itself. That doesn't mean external factors can't help, so if you finish a chapter and you're proud of it, buy yourself a treat for working so hard!

If you got a friend who likes editing/beta reading, invite them to beta read for you! They can help you find errors and typos that you might've missed. If you plan on editing your fic, I highly recommend reading your writing out loud to help you find weird sentence structures and awkward phrases. This should have the bonus of making it easier for people who use screen readers/just prefer audiobooks to enjoy your fic as well!

EDIT! Here are two more:

It's okay to be scared writing something new! Getting out of your comfort zone is going to happen with a giant story like this, and maybe you're going to flop at the best parts. That's perfectly fine!!! You can always edit it later--or even just call it "good enough" and move on! This is fanfic for fun, not a professional project you're making money off of. It's okay if things are less than ideal and incredible imperfect. An imperfect story is at least written. That's better than not writing it at all.

For the love of everything that is holy, remember that the characters should be people--and remember that their talents do not make up their entire personality. Their talents should not solely dictate what they wear, how they act, or the worst offender in this fandom--how their executions go. When writing a character Execution, think instead of what would be the worst way for that character to die--that is to say, what would bring them the most despair upon their death. DR1 and DRV3's executions all play with the despair of the blackened in each execution (with DR2 being noted to heavily miss the mark and to be the set of executions that are the most disappointing to Kodaka, from what I've been told.) So if you're stuck on writing a new Execution, try to think about what each execution from DR1 and DRV3 does to play with the despair of the blackened. What about their executions are giving them despair in their final moments? Do they at all relate to their talents, or are they completely separate from their talent? Study them, and you'll be able to use that information to write your own unique executions that are miles better than most of the fan made executions out there.

And I think that's my advice for now! Happy writing, everyone!

[thesamoanqueen]

Anatomy of an affair

Warnings: age-gap (but we keep it legal), cheating.

A/N: I was talking to @alyyaanna and the anatomy professor's idea took control, I couldn't resist, so this one for her. It will have a sequel, this is just part 1.

They say the secret of a good relationship is friendship, I had scientifically proven that this wasn't the case being a test subject all my life. Tobert and I had grown up in the same neighborhood in Pendleton South Carolina, two nearby houses, our families loved each other, we went to school together, hung out with the same group of friends, we even broke our arms together – it was his fault –. For everyone we were two soul mates linked, it was inevitable in some way. We had done everything together our whole lives, the most mundane things and the first shameful experiences. Our relationship on paper was destined for success, absolute, overwhelming, our faces under the heading "goal couple", at least until I decided to study medicine in Boston and he stayed in our hometown. Our paths had separated for just three months before he had a bad accident at his uncle's construction company, he had begged me, it had been a tough decision, but I had agreed to come back to support him. But now that I had finally taken control of my life, in my second actual year of studies, Tobert was boycotting everything again.

For the entire previous year I had thought he was trying to distract himself from the void I had left in his life, filling it with trips and nights with co-workers and friends, but looking back I had been kidding myself. Our parents called every day to find out when we were getting married and if I would be home soon, but from him? Oh, well, a few calls, always short, couple of messages, often stupid ones, and a facetime on weekend for some creepy phone sex. He didn't come to visit me, he didn't organize anything when I returned home, for my last birthday he sent me a package with a sweater I suspected he hadn't chosen. And now, after months of tolerating it, I saw him in an IG story with a chick’s ass in his face.

- "Good Lord man!"

- "Sav have you seen? Sav?"

What I could see was that he was even enjoying it! He had the same stupid face of an old man who can't read the newspaper, the one has been in my face since we were fifteen, ending our moments like commercials on TV in his father's garage.

- "What’s with that face? Sav is it everything okay?"

- "Savannah…"

I had felt guilty for wanting to start again and leaving him behind, I was working hard to finish and return home, I had always pushed away the instinct that told me I deserved more and instead he was living his best life without worrying about hiding it. His behaviour was not somekind of abandonment syndrome, it was just one of his bullshit and evidences were everywhere. I was a freking clown, our relationship was a joke I had wanted to believe alone because after so many years it seemed impossible to think of anyone else to me, when he was simply used to having me there at his disposal and now he thought was free. I had wasted my life and almost burned my future…

Realization hit me in the cafeteria, my colleagues staring at me like at some psycopath and rightly so, because when the next story popped up on the screen, I snapped.

- "That asshole!" – my scream echoed throughout the entire hall, overcoming the chatter that always filled it.

The sudden silence that followed and the hand one of my friends smashed against my arm brought me back suddenly, but by then it was late. I had just made the scene I would probably always be remembered for. Standing with my latte dripping onto the couch and music now playing in the background like a bad theme for my drama, I saw dozens of eyes staring at me.

- "... Sav what’s you problem?! We got company... get your ass over here!" – my roommate whispered in a panic, nodding towards the two men who had been about to leave.

In slow motion I saw them both looking at me and to humiliation was added absolute terror when without thinking I raised my hand to wave an embarrassed greeting, restarting Tobert's story. Oh, they would definitely remember me for that scene.

There wasn't a person on the entire campus who didn't know about my performance and the worst thing certainly wasn't the rumors but rather pity looks, plus the extra tasks I had agreed to do to clean up my reputation and keep myself busy. I hadn't received any formal warning, not even a comment, but I didn't want to risk ruining my career after having already dropped out in the past. The idea of losing the opportunity of a lifetime to someone who had already gotten more than he deserved from me drove me crazy.

Tobert hadn't commented, probably his two brain cells hadn't yet met to discuss what to do or they didn't think it was serious, but I had clear ideas and I had chosen to run the circus, patiently planning the day I would have kicked him with my degree.

So armed with good will and courage I marched across campus with my head held high, ready to face my demons and regain total control. It was almost time for the anatomy course to start and I planned to pass with top marks, but to do so I also had to make sure that the new professor didn't just remember me for screaming that day in front of him and his predecessor. My friends talked about him constantly, but I didn't have time for gossip, I had to seem like the right person to invest in for the future of medicine. When I arrived in front of his studio, however, my intention seemed less simple than expected. The entire aisle had been assaulted by a crowd of students, mostly girls. If I had suffered from amnesia, I would have thought I was at a concert or among a nymphomaniacs cult. We weren't in California, those outfits were definitely out of season as well as indecent, what’s was wrong with all of them?

- "Do you think he will receive today?"

- "Ah, I hope so! I want to see him so bad!"

Forced to wait like everyone else, I caught up with the gossip I had refused to hear from my friends, discovering the new professor was not only charming, but also young and free, which explained the cult. I also sadly discovered firsthand he hated receiving students and from what I saw he didn't even respect the time when he should have been forced to do so. Sitting in my chair, I waited twice as long before seeing the other students go away resignedly with their tiny blouses and too short skirts, deciding to spending my time finishing the chemistry project I had to hand in the following week. With my head down and fixed not to give up, I continued typing on my keyboard until two voices distracted me.

- "You can't take care of it alone, it's not necessary and you shouldn't at all" – I knew Mr. Heyman, he was an authority everywhere thanks to his investments and was often in the area because of his daughter, as well as a good friend of the rector.

The other man with him, I had only seen him on the day of my drama and I must not have seen him well due to the shock, because if I had I would not have given dirty looks to all the girls who had waited for him with me. Was he really a professor? Since when were professors like that?! You couldn't be like that, it was disorienting, didn’t help to the teaching process.

- "I should find someone but I don't have time to waste, Paul" – he complained and his voice sent a shiver through my body as I watched them reach the door in front of me.

- "I could ask, I have some friends, I'm sure there will be many smart guys who would be honored to do it, extra credits or not."

- "I will do it."

I said without thinking, lost in thoughts I shouldn't have been having, and they both turned to look at me, just as confused and surprised by the interruption as I was.

I had planned to introduce myself, ask a few questions, apologize for the bad first impression and now I had just made another one, listening to conversations that didn't concern me, without even saying hello, volunteering for who knows what next. Perfect.

Once the confusion was over, Mr. Heyman looked at me with interest, almost analyzing me, and I quickly tried to put myself together, putting everything away to get up.

- "And you are?" – He asked, his hands hidden in the pockets of his elegant suit.

- "Savannah Naïs Simon. Among the best in my class" – I introduced myself without hesitation and once again mentally scolded myself.

Now I even praised myself?! I usually handled the pressure well, for that kind of career it was indispensable, after all, but all of a sudden I was making one misstep after another and I couldn't afford it, not now. Tobert wasn't there to screw things, I had no excuses, it was my time, it was up to me. Head held high, nerves strong, that's what I needed.

- "Among the best doesn't mean the best" – Mr. Heyman cut me off, shaking his head – "and we have to check it too. I'll make a call."

Struck dumb, I quickly tried to think of something, anything, to make my case. The other professors would have confirmed, but what would I look like standing there waiting for their help?

- "It's no use" – however, Professor Reigns, who had watched until that moment, stopped us both.

His voice really played tricks on my body, but when my eyes met his it was even worse. His expression conveyed nothing, I couldn't imagine what he was thinking, but he exuded authority and there was something magnetic about him, the kind of man capable of changing the atmosphere with just his presence.

- "Are you sure?" – he heard Mr. Heyman ask him, finally stopping looking at me.

- "I’ll take her" – he established, checking me for a brief moment and I held my breath without even realizing it.

He will… take me? for doing what? And was it positive or…

- "We start tomorrow morning" – he said, addressing me directly.

- "I will be on time" – I promised, even if he had already turned his back to me to open the door, Mr. Heyman following him without paying any more attention to me.

- "No phone Miss Simon" – he advised from afar, just before I was left completely alone in the aisle and I distinctly felt the weight of the entire campus falling on me.

I had risked making another scene, I had volunteered for something I didn't even know what it was, I would have had to move lessons to keep my word and I would have thrown away even the amount of time I had left to sleep. And once again that wasn't the worst, but the fact he remembered and had already targeted me before I could even apologize.

What awaited me was a role as an assistant for the entire duration of the course, but I only found out the following day, after spending the whole night awake. I wouldn't have much time to do anything else, it was clear from the first moment, but I had no intention of backing out after having volunteered. It wasn't just a way to make up for my bad impression, it was an opportunity for which anyone else would have gladly given an organ, I myself would have done so - who needed two kidneys? One was enough - and that would certainly help my career, I was lucky. Professor Reigns was a successful doctor, he had changed the landscape of pathological anatomy with his works and his presence was an honor for the university. Admissions to his course were closed after just one day and the program specified that a selection would still be made by him personally. Assisting him and observing how he worked could have given me a great advantage in the selection phase and that was what I was aiming for. Memorizing had always been my thing, but anatomy was much more than listing body parts.

However, reality once again did not correspond to my expectations and in the following three days, I felt more like a secretary than an assistant, with alla those emails and calls. He always arrived early and most of the time I found him sitting at his desk, looking at personal documents and boxes full of medical records. He worked with his head down for hours, often without speaking or taking a break, which wasn't good for my ambition, but at least it helped me not to get distracted because the rare times I saw him looking at me were a test of mental resistance.

His presence demanded attention, his imposing body promised what it shouldn't with the most banal gestures like a pen between his fingers. Calling him a good-looking man would have been an insult, the world was full of handsome and insignificant men, but he had something vaguely frightening, something I had never tasted before and it awakened an almost primordial impulse in me.

The sound of someone knocking on the door brought me out of my thoughts and I quickly straightened up, hoping nothing in me would give me away. I couldn't think about certain things, I wasn't there to daydream about affairs, not when my future was in play and my lifelong boyfriend had cheated on me. A student I had seen a couple of times appeared in the doorway, wearing a lab coat, a deep neckline underneath. Her blue eyes scanned the room where I was in search of what interested her and which was instead sitting in the near room.

- "I know it's not reception hour, but is the professor over there? I would like to talk to him in private about some things" – she said without even trying too hard to simulate and I batted my eyelashes at her, fascinated and annoyed at her courage before stopping her.

- "Unfortunately he is busy. If it’s important you can ask via email or otherwise wait for the course to start. Lessons start tomorrow morning, the time and place are already confirmed" – I anticipated, getting a reproachful look.

- "I need to see him now."

Oh, I could imagine it and I would have complimented the clever attempt to show up when no one was waiting if she hadn't been trying to call me dumb.

- "Can I help you now?" – I proposed without getting too upset and she seemed on the verge of losing her patience.

- "Can I have an appointment?"

- "Sure, I'll put you on the list."

I didn't see her expression, she was probably furious, but she didn't give me time, huffing her disappointment out of the studio, leaving me with the agenda in my hand. I closed it with a heavy breath, putting it back in my bag, where I had been advised to keep it so that it was always with me and never unattended. When I raised my head I almost had a heart attack, discovering Professor Reigns intent on staring at me from his desk, hands crossed, his expression curious.

- "I'm busy?" – he inquired and his low, rough voice made my neck tingle.

I hadn't told a lie, he was busy. He worked on those medical records all day, there was always some document on which he kept his eyes glued. Why was he staring at me like that? Maybe I shouldn't have spoken before asking yes, but my intentions weren't bad, I was trying to be helpful.

- "With the material for the research project and the visit to the rector this afternoon, plus I don't think she really had any questions" – I explained, clenching my fists praying that I could use them against myself because it would have been much better.

I spoke without being involved, I made decisions independently, now I also commented and implied. The unkind thoughts I'd had about Tobert were backfiring on me, bad karma.

- "Is that so?" – Professor Reigns asked curiously, leaning back in his chair and knowing for a fact it was better keep my mouth closed, I nodded, returning to look at my laptop in silence hoping to not have to explain anything else.

I couldn't talk about those things with a professor, someone who could have mentored me, it didn't matter if there wasn't that much of an age gap between us and we ended up on the topic. It was an off limits talk and I tried to focus on the topics outline he would analyze the following day during the first lesson, it had to be detailed and precise, but I couldn't even read what I had summarized until five minutes before.

- "Savannah right?" – I heard my name being called and even more shocked, I watched him finally get up from his desk to join me – "you want to be a cardiologist"

- "How... who"- I spluttered in surprise and putting hands in his pockets, he smiled at me amused.

A smile that would have knocked anyone out, perfect and soft, so incredibly unexpected on an authority figure like him. For three days he had paid almost no attention to me, only addressing me as necessary as Miss. Simon and I had never hoped for more than that, because of our first meeting and his role. Plus not many people knew my goal, after giving up and coming back was something I had learned to keep to myself.

- "Paul is a friend of mine and the rector's. He has his people. He was doubtful at first, but he thought better of it after a few calls and was right as always. You're doing a good job" – he replied, clarifying the doubts I wasn't even able to express and I felt my stomach tighten with emotion.

I knew I shouldn't expect recognition, not in such a competitive environment and when I was a nobody, but it was nice to know my effort was being noticed. Noticed moreover by people of that level. It was a rush of positive energy I really needed to give value to my sacrifices and know investing in myself was the right thing. Tobert and this sort of incestuous relationship we'd had had tried to screw everything, but I was still in the running.

- "I do my best, it's an honor" – I said enthusiastically, matching the smile he had given me, but he raised a hand to stop me, swinging his head.

- "Let's leave this out, I need support and an objective opinion at every lesson. I'm not a real professor, I'm a doctor, but it's an opportunity and everyone has something to pass on. Do you think you can do it, without distractions?" – He asked, throwing another dig at me, but this time I quickly got over it, nodding immediately.

At that point I would have done anything he asked me, I couldn't refuse him anything. It had been three days as a secretary, ignored and perpetually under pressure, but I had passed the test, I had earned his trust. He really wanted me to become his assistant now, he asked for my opinion even though we weren't equals in that field. Screw karma, I had already won in life at that point!

- "I can give my word Sir" – I promised and once again that smile appeared on his perfect face.

- "Good girl" – he approved, before leaving me again.

Those two words rang in my ears right inside my head, as dangerous as a spell and I had the impression of feeling my blood warm, while my body suddenly came alive and melted at the idea of having deserved that pet name. Subconsciously, I scratched my notebook, legs clenched under the desk as I watched the profile of his massive back. We had had an important moment and there I was holding my breath for something that Tobert had never in a lifetime been able to give me, after two words said without any intention.

I saw Mr. Reigns sit back down, rolling his shoulders with ease as he resumed whatever had occupied him before our chat. His eyes searched me one last time and a part of me that shouldn't have throbbed around nothing, making me lower my head to the lesson plan.

I was imagining it, it was in my head and it had to disappear as soon as possible.

Tag squad: @sunnyfleur23 @racerchix21 @alyyaanna @expert-texpert @romanreignsdefencesquad @romanstheory @claymorexpunisher @keybladeofsteel @msbigredmachine @nayys-world @gobbersworld @utika151209 @cumxxslutt @civildawn @romanmydaddy @triscillal @papireigns-05 @helensanders92 @darqchilddaydreamz @meggylynnloves @unfriendly--blvck--hottie @nicolewoo @joannasteez @reignsx @kianaleani @daguenoire @extra-11 @333creolelady @snowpanda18 @brattyfics @mzv11 @romanreignseater @dreamsinfocus @vebner37 @depressedneedingrevenge @cyberdejos2 @mahi-wayy @jxtina-86 @harmshake @southerngirl41 @smile1318 @headoftheetable @sortudademais

[marciaillust]

How long does it take for you to finish drawing?

I'm an artist (beginner) and i unconsciously set unrealistic goals for myself and need a reminder of how long it takes to complete a drawing, Thanks.

Hi! In the context you presented it in, that is a really interesting question, so I'll try to approach it thoroughly. I hope I won't make you roll your eyes too much.

Where to start, where to start... I guess the first thing I should say is that there is a difference between time I spend preforming the action of <drawing>, and the time I spent <working> on a particular piece. The first would be counted in hours, the second one - days. I'm a big believer in slowing things down, and giving things time - going through options, gathering research and references, taking breaks every 1h of sitting and drawing - and seeing things through until I achieve the goal I set at the beginning of the process.

The goals are usually different each time: "quick design", "character exploration", "analysis of an artist's linework and experimenting with the knowledge gained", "creating an aesthetically pleasing image", and so on and so forth. Of course I don't write these down like it's a school assignment, but knowing in the back of my head what I'm actually doing helps me manage my expectations. I also enjoy being conscious of why I create - when I was younger regardless of what I was doing I had the thought "AND IT MUST LOOK GOOD AND PRESENTABLE! BECAUSE PEOPLE WILL LOOK!" ...and I think that obsession is the cancer of creative process.

Since the goals for each picture are different, the time I'll spent on achieving each one will be different as well, because the "satisfactory results" lay in different places. For example, the Marcile sketchpage was created in one afternoon, and took approximately 3 hours. The goal was to play around with a brush that has no opacity forcing my lines to be more decisive. I did that and so it is "finished". There's nothing else I want from it.

On the other hand, the cover of Asterism took about 10 days to create, the goal of which was to make "an aesthetically pleasing cover picture taking colour inspiration from the works of (specific list of artists)". I took my time designing it so that it looks aesthetically pleasing, made sure the anatomy is "correct" (a nebulous statement when it comes to stylised humans), took my time masking, and picking colours, and shading. I wanted it to "look good" to my own eyes so if something was not working I would go back, change it, alter it, move it around... that's the wonderful thing about personal art, you can take as long as you like making something satisfactory.

The funny thing is, with what the Asterism cover actually is (a cellshaded image), it could have been done probably in 4 days by the me 4 years ago. But that person was willing to sit 8-10 hours a day to draw with no breaks, she had little social life, and treated herself as a little circus seal performing tricks so that people clap around her, and the clapping was soooo nice because it meant that people remembered her and she mattered. And it worked for her! For long 10 years! Until her arm gave out, and the reality of never being able to draw again became more tangible than ever, and it's been following her like a fog ever since for the past 4 years. The me today works about 4 hours a day and every hour I take about a 30 minute break. I also don't post half the stuff I draw. There is also another aspect that dictates the speed of creating and that is familiarity with the subject matter. The less you know something, the fast you'll draw it! But as you get to know the intricacies of the process, and see all the building blocks, it will start taking *longer* because you will start accounting for every block. But then you'll eventually get familiar with the blocks and so the time spent on a picture will go down again! The cool yet overwhelming thing about art is that, there are always hundreds of building blocks. Form, composition, ambient occlusion, saturation, hue, light balance, line form...... and those are just the *some* of the generalised *categories*. And each category will have it's own subsection of building blocks! And then those blocks will interact with each other to create completely new area of expertise! This is crazy! Marcille sketch page took me only 3 hours to create because I am already quite familiar with linework - I have drawn 3-4 comicbooks worth of linework. This also means I am familiar with believable anatomy, more or less, which got utilised in the Asterism cover - the main bulk of linework got created during a 3h livestream. So.... what's the answer.... "It's all relative" is so unsatisfactory and probably not what you looked for. But you can draw something in 3 days and kill your body over it. Or you can become an expert in a field and dish the same picture out effortlessly in 8 hours. You can also split that 8h block over multiple days bringing you back up to 3 days. You could even add a whole day of visual research which might make your picture only marginally better. And even if we calculate it in terms of raw working time, pen-to-paper, like a self-inflicted capitalist tumor, that time can fluctuate still due to personal visual library and knowledge base. If I asked Tom Fox how long it takes for him to create his sketch pages his answer would probably be downward of 30 minutes. Yet I need whole 3 hours to create something *less* anatomically correct than him. And so here we are at the end of this perhaps unnecessary essay. And all we learned is this: it depends. Dry, not nuanced tl;dr, my personal timings: single sketch - 30mins; single linework pic 1-2h; Cellshaded illust - 16h; Rendered illust: 20-25h.

[darkkny]

Isochronism

Kyoujurou Rengoku x Reader x Tengen Uzui.

Warning: Yandere behavior. Dark content. Reader uses she/her pronouns, and is being described as “Girl.” 

DISCLAIMER: I, in no way, condone yandere’s or the behavior that follows. This is purely a work of fiction and does not reflect any of my personal values or morals. Thank you.

Run.

RUN!

Don’t stop running, even if your legs give out, get up and run again.

 You chanted this desperately as you tore threw the village, dodging frightened villagers and jumping over small carts and even children. You were desperate. He wouldn’t hurt them, but there was no telling what he’d do to you if he caught you. Once you believed that he would never hurt you, as he would only treat you with the utmost gentleness and respect. He’d softly grab your hand and press a chaste kiss to the palm of it. He never kissed the top of it. You remember jokingly asking him about it, and he got quiet. Noticing the seeming drop in his mood, you tried to change the subject, but he stopped you. Looking you dead in your eyes, the seriousness in his eyes and voice made your pulse quicken. He looked down at your hand, still in his. “I’ve kissed past partners on the top of their hands,” he rubbed your palm with his thumb. “This is our thing though. This is reserved for you only, and it always will be.” You remember not really knowing how to react or what to say. He smiled at you, and you returned it. You remembered how special it made you feel, how loved.

 Things were different now, and you couldn’t help but think of the word love as you turned a corner. It left a bitter taste in your mouth. Perhaps love existed, and perhaps, you experienced it with him at one point. However, that point has long passed, and it would never come back. He’s already done too much. The blood, the unusual dead look on his face, the strange glow in his eyes. That look in his eyes, that was the scariest part. You’ve had your fair share of watching people become mutilated. You’ve had your fair share of blood, and deadpan faces. Not with him, he was never like that. He was never so cold. He literally RADIATED heat. It was…. terrifying. You focused on the entrance of the village, the silhouette of a very tall man stood in the center. It was too tall to be Kyoujurou, which made your heart sing for joy. Seeing Kyoujurou would be too much for you. He’s not him, not who he was. Not who he really is.

 No. You stopped that thought as soon as it popped into your mind. No, Kyoujurou was probably always like that. You just never noticed until it had come to a boiling point, and he spilled over. Shaking your head, you push for the entrance despite your screaming legs. The figure turned to look at you with surprise and you noticed it to be Tengen Uzui. A long-time friend of yours and Kyoujurou’s. You stopped dead in your tracks as his eyes fell on you. You knew you were in pretty bad shape, scratches and cuts on your hands, feet, and face from when you fell trying to climb over the wall surrounding the Flame Estate. Trying to get away from Kyoujurou.

 You looked around warily, ready to run in case the fiery-headed man showed his face. Uzui covered the distance quickly and approached you with an overly concerned face. “(Y/N)? What happened to you? What’s going on?” He grabbed your hand lifting your arms to check the bruises and cuts covering them and your legs. “I-I… I don’t even k-know T-Tengen. Kyou… Kyoujurou is d-different. He did something b-bad… bad. He did something bad, Tengen,” you sobbed, struggling to breathe. He let go of your arms and pulled your face into his hands, “(Y/N), Darling, breathe. In and out.” He gently rubbed a cut on your cheek with his thumb as he looked at your face. You nodded shakily and took deep breaths. You glanced up at him with bloodshot eyes and he smiled softly at you. He nodded slowly and took your hand. “Hey, let’s get you out of here. I’ll walk you back to the Flame Estate and I’ll talk to Kyoujurou myself. I’ll give him a stern talking to for scaring you like this. Totally unflashy of him.” Your eyes widened and you dug your heels into the ground in panic. He looked back at you with a surprised and questioning glance. Your breathing had spiked up again and you were violently shaking your head. He held his hands out in front of you, “Okay… Okay, It’s okay. You can come home with me instead.” You breathed deeply just like he had instructed before and slowly nodded. Your face was glued to the ground in shame. “Hey, there’s no need to be shy or ashamed. We’re going to figure this out, Okay? Let’s get you back to my estate and then we can talk,” he lifted your head so that you were looking directly at him. “Good girl now let’s go,” he ended with a kiss on your forehead before grabbing your hand and heading out of the village.

 -

 By the time the two of you had made it to his estate, the night had fallen. You glanced around quickly. You were terrified. Kyoujurou could come out of those dark woods at ANY time, and you wouldn’t know until it was too late. Tengen must’ve noticed your skittishness as he held you closer to him before looking around himself. The two of you walked onto the engawa and he turned to you. “When we get in here, I’m going to show you where the hot springs are, and we’ll get you clean.” You looked up at him and nodded, “Okay, Tengen. Thank you.” Your voice was quiet and hoarse. He smiled softly and opened the door before pushing you in slowly with his hand before looking around once more and following you.

 Tengen’s wives ran into the room, excited to greet their husband. They stopped once they say you and concern flashed in their eyes before they all hurried over to you. “(Y/N), oh my goodness, what happened to you,” Hinatsuru looked you over. Makio and Suma sharing frightened expressions behind her. “I-I had a fight with Kyoujurou, a really bad fight. No, he didn’t hurt me. It’s just a difficult situation,” you smiled at them sadly. They looked at each other with an emotion you couldn’t catch. Tengen stepped forward, “Hey girls, could y’all get some food for me and (Y/N)?” All four of them shared a look before they nodded and walked away to the kitchen. He smiled at you, “Okay, (Y/N). Wait right here real quick.” Before you could retaliate, he was gone after the girls. You looked around the room nervously. Even though you knew you were safe, you were still shaken up. You jumped as Tengen suddenly appeared beside you with soap, washcloths, and towels. He smiled at you comfortingly before grabbing your hand, “Come now, Let’s get you clean.”

 Your fear heightened when he led you back outside to a lit path behind his mansion heading into the woods. Your hand tightened around his and he gave yours a comforting squeeze, “You’re safe. I promise.” You nodded and the two of you continued. Eventually you came to a gate with walls. He opened the gate and led you inside. A hot spring stood in the middle of the ground lit up by bright lights. He closed the gate behind the two of you and pulled you to the edge of the hot spring, where he turned around to allow you to undress yourself. You were nervous, of course because you were still scared, but also because you were about to take a bath with Uzui, which you had never done. Your mind went dark as you imagined how Kyoujurou would react if he found you here, naked, and alone with Tengen. You shook the thought from your head and stepped into the warm water. Immediately your body relaxed, and your muscles screamed with relief. Once your entire body, up to below your shoulders, was submerged in the water, you turned to Tengen. “O-okay, you can turn around now.” He nodded and turned around while smiling at you. The two of you stood still as the water around. He smirked, “I mean, if you want to watch me undress, just say that.” You gasped as a blush fought its way to your face and you looked away, shamefully. He chuckled and undressed before climbing into the water beside you.

 Smiling, he grabbed the washcloths and soap. He dipped the cloth into the water before lathering soap on it and beckoning for you to come to him. You hesitantly complied and made your way to him. He motioned for you to turn around and you did. Laying the cloth across your right shoulder, he gently scrubbed the dirt and sweat from your skin. Gliding the cloth slowly over your shoulder, he moved to the nape of your neck before moving it to your other shoulder. You sighed as he washed the dirt from your upper back before he dropped to clean the rest of your back. Turning you around, he gently washed your face, making sure to be extra soft with your cuts. His eyes moved from looking down at your cheek to make contact with yours which caused a blush to spread on your cheeks. He smiled and brought the washcloth to your neck and collar bone, cleaning them. Your breath hitched as he moved the soapy cloth to your breasts. He glanced up at you, asking for permission. You hesitated before nodding. Gently, he moved the cloth over your right breast, scrubbing softly, before doing the same for the left one. He grabbed your hand and set the cloth in your hand.

 “I’ll let you do the rest,” he smiled encouragingly. You nodded and turned to wash the rest of your body while he washed his. After washing your tummy, arms, legs, and nether regions you turned back to him, ringing out the soap in the cloth. He was finishing by the time you had set the cloth aside and he did the same thing. He held his arms out and you complied, approaching him, and allowing yourself to be held by him. He rubbed your now wet hair soothingly and your nervousness disappeared. You pushed your face into his neck and smiled. The warmth of the water, his soothing motions, and the exhaustion from the day caused sleepiness to creep in your bones and weigh your eyelids down. Tengen noticed your exhaustion and chuckled, “okay, time to get out. Let’s get some food.”

 -

 You, Tengen, and his wives sat crisscrossed across from each other quietly eating the meal they had prepared. Your eyes were heavy, and you kept dozing off. Hinatsuru and Tengen would nudge you followed by a soft, “Finish your food, and then we’ll all go to bed.” You’d nod and refocus on your food. Suma looked nervous, as if she wanted to say something, but Makio would shoot her a very harsh look. There was an air to the table that made you uncomfortable as if you had done something wrong. After dinner, the five of you all piled on Tengen’s enormous bed, after they insisted on you sleeping with them. Soon all five of you were sound asleep.

 Opening your eyes, you cursed at the nagging feeling plaguing your bladder. You groan and try to slip from Tengen’s very tight grip. He mumbles and squeezes you tighter, putting pressure on your bladder. You wince and try once more, eventually squirming out of his grip. Crawling down to the foot of the bed, you swing your legs over and sigh. Tengen’s tired voice whispers from behind, “(Y/N), what are you doing?” You turn your head to look at him, “I really have to pee, Tengen.” He chuckled and removed the cover before standing up at walking over to you. “Okay, I’ll come with you.”

You nodded and followed him out of the room, and he showed you to the bathroom. You thanked him and entered the room before closing the door behind you. After you closed the door, you lit the lantern in the bathroom. Like lightning a hand slapped itself over your mouth and you screamed. The sound was muffled, and you struggled against the hot body behind you. You knew the heat; you knew the smell of his skin. You even knew the sound of his breathing. “If you promise not to scream, I’ll remove my hand, my love.” His voice was soft and attractive, just as it had always been. “Do you understand?” You whimpered and stayed quiet. He sighed. “Do you underSTAND?!” His voice turned aggressive as he pushed your head back harshly. You sobbed as tears fell down your face. You winced and cried as warm liquid dripped down your leg. His voice softened once more, “Oh, you poor thing.” He used his other hand to grab yours and he pushed you out of the bathroom. “(Y/N)? Oh, Kyoujurou, you’re here.” Tengen walked out from the kitchen. “You weren’t supposed to be here until the morning.”

 Kyoujurou chuckled brightly, “Well, you know, I couldn’t stay away from my beautiful flame. She’s the light of my life, everything has been so dull since I let her leave. Running straight to your loving arms, Tengen.” Tears fell freely from your eyes as you stared at Tengen in disbelief and betrayal. He avoided your eyes and Kyoujurou removed his hand from your mouth. You sobbed and closed your eyes, wishing the world would just go away. Kyoujurou spun you around and pulled you in for a kiss. You struggled against his body and cried. Tengen sped over and ripped you away from the other hashira. “Kyoujurou, treat her with respect. That’s why we’re in this situation, well, that and you’re extremely messy.” He turned to you and pushed your hair behind your ear. You shut your eyes and turned your head away from him. He sighed and grabbed your hand, “It’s okay, Darling. Let’s go get you another bath.” Kyoujurou growled, “another bath? Meaning you saw her… naked?” His eyes were narrowed, and you shied from him. Tengen flashed him an angry look and wrapped his arms around her. Kyoujurou huffed and followed the two of you out to the springs.

 “Okay, (Y/N), why don’t you go ahead and get those soiled clothes off?” You hesitantly nodded before stripping your clothes off and instantly dipping into the water, uncomfortable from two set of eyes following your frame. Both men followed suit and waded through the water towards you. You instinctively backed away from both men. Tengen stopped and looked at you with a guilty expression. Kyoujurou, however, did not stop and he reached his hand out in a comforting way. “Darling, My Love. Please, I’ve missed you so much. Every minute I’ve been apart from you has been like a year of agony for me. I love you so much, and I’m so sorry that I scared you. Please, just take my hand.” You stared at his hand before slowly but hesitantly laying yours in his. He brought the palm to his lips, pressing a chaste kiss to it. You whimper softly, as he pulls you into him with a sigh. The hair on your neck stood on end as he rubbed your head. You looked up at Tengen, frightened and sad. His face still held guilt and he waded over to the two of you. He kissed your swollen lips gently before leaning to whisper in your ear.

 “I’m so sorry, My Darling. We both love you too much to let you go.”

 Your mouth dropped open, “Tengen…. loves me?” Suddenly, realizations flashed across your mind and several things started to make sense. The looks he would give you, the smiles he would flash at you, how gentle he is, how loving he is, the pet names. It all made sense, everything you brushed off and pushed out of your mind. You looked back through your memories of the three of you together, and you saw it. The looks Tengen and Kyoujurou shared, the hushed whispers. You didn’t know how to feel. It was almost as if you had not processed any of what he said.

Tengen was staring at you with an expectant look. He closed his eyes and let out a quiet sigh before leaning away from you. “I must go, as my wives may be wondering where we are. I’ll be back later.” Panic struck your body, and you thrashed in Kyoujurou’s strong hold. “N-NO, Tengen don’t leave me here. Please, I’m begging you. Please, don’t go.” Kyoujurou’s arms gripped you tighter and you winced. “He could kill me. He could kill me.” Tengen stopped and looked down before flashing you an apologetic look. “I’m sorry, My Darling. I promise, I will be back.” Nausea welled up in your throat as he flashed a stern look at Kyoujurou, “Do NOT do anything rash, Kyoujurou. I will know, and I will do something about it, and you will NOT like it.” Kyoujurou growled softly and you whimpered, choking back bile. Tengen nodded at you and climbed out of the pool of water, leaving soon after.

“Darling… you know I won’t hurt you, right?” Kyoujurou’s voice was right in your ear, and you nodded your head in pure fear. He pulled away and held your shoulders in his hand, his grip still tight. “That’s a good girl,” his hand made its way for your face, rubbing the skin softly, “I’ve missed you more than anything before.” You kept your gaze off of his face. He moved your face gently, “Please look at me, My Love.” Slowly, you looked up at his face, shaking violently. “There she is. My beautiful flame. My entire reason for being. Without you, I lose the hope and spark of my life. Everything I am, everything I will be, everything I have done, is for you.” He moved his face to rest his forehead on yours gingerly. Your breath hitched and panic filled your mind. “He’s so close. He smells so good; His voice sends tingles down my spine. I hate him. I hate him so much. Hate him. Hate him, hate him, hate him.” Your eyes darted around, and you wished your mind would shut up. You were terrified of him, and yet, your heart still yearned for him. Your body still craved his touch. He was your first and only love. How could you ever hate him?

You cried. You cried and cried until your eyes couldn’t cry anymore. You cried until the only thing left was the hitch in your breathing and your whole being felt numb. And Kyoujurou? Well, he was simply delighted that you had stopped struggling.

It made everything easier for him.

[honeythekidsarealright]

Hiiii. I lately realized that I'm bi. A girl in my college was my gay-awakening. We only have one same subject every other semester. She's sweet. She sings and plays a handful of instruments [I stalked her youtube😭].

It all started when I seemed to notice her in that class and that we made an eye contact everytime we were in the same room. I rarely look people in the eye but when I felt her eyes, I just glanced for a mini-second too. She was just acknowledging me and so I acknowledged her right back. This happened a year ago [2nd sem]. I passed it off as a mere "curiosity" and guys and gays, IT IS NEVER CURIOSITY.

Now in the 4th SEM, I forgot it all but I would recognize and highlight her out of the crowd whenever I'd pass my her in a corridoor. I only saw her once in the class for the 4th sem, cause I bunked a lot of it, where we again made an eye-contact. And a few days later, out of the blue, it dawned upon me when I found myself waiting for yet another eye-contact. And I realize that I may have been suppressing all of it.

Now how do I approach her?I know she's sweet but she seems unapproachable to me [im not friends with her friends. They are not the kind of people I would be friends with or maybe I would Idk cause I never make friends. Plus she's cool]. I think that she'll get angry once she learns of my crush idk why i think that [I've always thought so about all my crushes] And also she belongs to the "cool" people group ya know the fun ones. I, on the other hand, don't belong to any group though there are a couple folks I spend my time with. I'm rather introverted (atleast until you get to know me which most people don't because I'm too closed off and apparently have an rbf).

I cannot believe we managed to exist in the same age, same side of the world, hell the same darn college and yet I feel so far away, flung into a different plane of existence, like I can never feel her heart beat against mine or her fingers intertwined in mine like I cannot hold her when all that I want is to hold her, to hold her so close I can feel her blood run through her veins and her tumultuous breath against my ear.

hi! honestly, my advice to you would be to just talk to her. from your ask, i've gathered that you guys share a class together, and that is the perfect opportunity, in my opinion, to strike up a conversation with her and get to know her. i know it might be scary, especially because you'll be stepping out of your comfort zone a bit, but you'll never know if she's interested in you if all you do is admire her from a distance (remember, you miss 100% of the shots you don't take). it's clear that she's noticed you almost as much as you've noticed her, and like you said, even though you don't know her friends, she seems like a sweet person.... so go for it. don't let the fear of rejection stop you from experiencing something that could be great.

i hope i've been able to help, even if it's just a little bit, and if you have any follow-ups, feel free to leave another ask. good luck :)

[moody-alcoholic]

Formal dinner

This is just the first draft of a weird idea that popped in my head...

I started re-watching gray's anatomy and I think that's mostly to blame... Especially this scene. I also needed an excuse to practice writing from Simons POV so here you go.

Summary: Simon x OC 2k words. Formal military dinner gone wrong..? CW: alcohol, serious asthma attack, mentions of medication, medical emergency, medical inaccuracies. First draft, honestly I just love writing medical stuff.

Masterlist

Enjoy <3

“Well well, look at you all smart in officer formals.” I heard Rosaly’s voice behind me. I turn to see her wearing a long blue dress that seemed to be pulling in all the right places.

“Very nice.” I say she spins around I see how low cut the back is as she adjusts the clasp on her clutch. Her hair was done up too curled and I couldn’t ignore the light layer of makeup on her face making her lips look shiny, hiding the heavy bags under her eyes. I find myself smiling, I want to reach out and touch her. She looks up at me taking a step closer quickly looking around then leaning into me.

“I do have a thing for men in formals.” She purrs in my ear. I let out a breath as she giggles moving back. I can see the cheeky grin on her face. It’s almost too much, I want to pull her back up to my room and skip the festivities, I didn’t want to be here and I know she didn’t either. Price had to practically order her to come. ‘Set a good example as we should 141 is an important unit, there will be a lot of important people there.’ People started passing us through the main doors leading in the hall where the event was taking place, the hotel was grand, just like the last dinner event Price dragged me too. This is where he networks gets to gush about 141 to everyone sometimes picks up a medal at the end, what he’s really for though are the jobs he can get for us.

“Rosie?” I hear someone say, she turns around to see someone coming towards her.

“Mike, hey.” She says, I remember him he was the trauma surgeon at Gibraltar. He introduces the woman looped on his arm as his girlfriend and makes small talk with her. I look around for Price and Gaz they should be here by now I look down at my watch it’s almost 7. I look back up seeing Mike say his goodbyes going through into the room, Rosaly follows after them and for a second I look confused until she comes back out with two champagne flutes.

“You’re going to need this.” She says handing me one and sipping the other. I already felt exposed, such a formal event meant I couldn’t get away with my normal get up, when Price broached the subject about the mask he knew I wasn’t going to like it. ‘It’s all friendlies, they won’t even remember by the end of the night everyone will be pissed anyway.’ I didn’t want to take the chance, the whole point is anonymity, besides being in a room with potentially 100’s of people, no thank you I would much rather be Ghost not Simon, we settled on a black face mask covering my nose and mouth.

“Williams you clean up nicely.” I hear Price coming down the corridor with Gaz at his side.

“Looking sexy Gaz.” Rosaly says finishing her drink, he laughs.

“Could say the same about you too.” Gaz walks up to us hugging Rosaly. Price adjusts his beret. I subconsciously touch mine, it’s been a while since I have had to wear it, I wouldn't be surprised if it was lopsided already, I nod at him his is fine, he smiles nodding back at me. Only officers are required to wear formals since they’re the ones getting all the awards, everyone else gets to dress fancy, I cant help but wonder if Rosaly chose a blue dress on purpose or not. I hand my glass to her as she takes it out my hands.

“You’re drinking all ready?” Gaz laughs taking the full glass out her hands.

“I can’t help it I’m just so excited to listen to 2 hours of speeches form the same 3 people.” I smile at her sarcasm. Price shakes his head and leads us in the room. The table plan has already been set out and we find our way to our table and sit down. Rosaly waves a server over ordering drinks, as the speakers make their way to the stage.

The first speaker goes through the usual spiel of welcoming everyone and guests then going through the running order for the night. I look round the room as the waiter comes back with a try of drinks, there are a lot of people every table is full, sometimes I catch eyes wondering on us then quickly looking away. Everyone starts clapping and I join in watching a video start to play on the projector. With the lights off I sip my drink, letting it burn my throat and warm my belly. I look over at Price and Gaz watching the video, Rosaly is a little in front of me to my right she’s tapping her fingers on the table. I want to reach out and grab her hand, not here though. I wonder if Price is up for any awards I forgot to ask him. The rest of the speeches drone on, a few people get awards for bravery and what not. Some people get promotions, nothing higher then captain though, they would be done in a separate special ceremony. I recognise some of the people from years past, some I think I recognise but I’m not sure. Price is always introducing me to so many people I forget who I’ve met and who I haven’t. When the last speeches are done there is an interval break. Rosaly excuses herself to the bathroom and I turn to Gaz as he taps me on the shoulder.

“Is Price up for any awards?” Gaz asks me quietly.

“I don’t know I forgot to ask.” I admit finishing my drink. Price stands up to greet someone turning to introduce us.

“Where is Williams?” He asks as we stand up to shake his hand.

“Bathroom.” I say.

“Your new medic right?” The man asks Price who nods.

“I heard she’s a handful.” He chuckles we all join in, but I give Price a look. ‘What the hell does that mean?’ He shakes Price’s hand and walks away again, after a few more minutes and a few more people coming to say hi to Gaz and Price, Rosaly comes back with a tray of drinks. I shake my head at her taking mine off the tray.

“You should slow down Williams,” Price says.

“It’s an open bar, besides what are supposed to do other then get royally shit faced, there is a reason you marked tomorrow as recovery on the calendar.” Price shakes his head smiling but takes the drink. Rosaly places the empty glasses on the tray and a waiter comes and takes it. She turns to my sipping her drink.

“Did I miss anything?” She asks.

“Meeting Price’s friends.” Gaz said, she smiled her eyes finding their way to me. I held her gaze, she did look so pretty in that strapped dress they way it brings out the colour in her eyes, her cheeks are rosy, she looks flushed, relaxed enjoying herself. She plays with her necklace, I don’t think I even recognised it until now. It’s beautiful though, silver and diamonds but simple.

“Excuse me!” I hear the squeaking of the mic and look back at the stage. I see a man nervously rubbing his hands. “I know this is a bit of a strange request but are there any doctors here?” I look down at Rosaly who has shrunk down in her chair sipping on her drink. There is murmuring round the hall. Rosaly is almost hiding under the table now her eyes flicking over to Gaz and Price.

“We’ve got a medic over here!” Price calls. I see her close her eyes sighing and straighten up.

“Price I’m drunk.” She protests.

“Everyone is drunk Williams.” Before I know it there is a group of people making their way towards us. We all get up as the crowd parts showing a woman gripping her chest, she is clearly struggling to breath her face bright red. The scene makes Rosaly instantly change, she’s not drunk anymore, she puts the glass down on the table leading the woman to a chair.

“She has asthma we’ve tried an inhaler it’s not working.” Someone says. Handing the blue inhaler to Rosaly who shakes it.

“Have you called an ambulance?” She asks, the woman immediately starts to panic frantically shaking her head.

“She keeps refusing.” The same person says. “I didn’t want to make her panic.” Rosaly turns to us she throws me her clutch bag.

“Price call an ambulance, LT my trauma bag is in my room, go now!” She snaps. I don’t wait pushing through the crowd, I break into a sprint when I get out the main hall, her room is on the second floor I fumble through her bag looking for the keycard. I press it into the door rushing in. I see her bags at the foot of her bed grabbing the cammo backpack with the cross on the back. Why does she even have this with her? I don’t have time to question it as I run back out the room flying down the stairs. When I make it back to the main hall the crowd has gotten bigger. I push my way through I see Mike here now stroking the woman's back she looks worse Rosaly is trying to tell her to breath as I drop the bag at her feet. She lets go of the woman's arm throwing the bag open taking out a syringe of something securing a needle on it.

“Ambulance ETA?” She asks.

“15.” Price calls back. I watch as she rubs the woman's side with something.

“Sharp scratch.” She says injecting it in. “8:12.” She says starting the timer on her watch.

“Keep taking those deep breaths.” Mike says rubbing her back. I watch as Rosaly carefully recaps the needle, then turning her attention back to the woman. She attaches something to her finger, after a few seconds it starts beeping rapidly. The woman seems to be calming down Rosaly rubs her legs looking at her face. She takes a big breath in and I see her relax dropping her hand from her chest, she looks like she’s going to cry. Rosaly stands up stopping her timer.

“Thank you,” The woman says between breaths. Rosaly rubs her arm bending over her to see her.

“You’re okay don’t try and talk, keep taking those deep breaths.” She nods.

“I feel weird.” She says grabbing her chest again.

“You will for a bit it’s the adrenaline.” Rosaly explains, I hear movement behind me and see the crowd separate to the the paramedics through. Rosaly explains the situation, and convinces the woman to go with them at least to get some oxygen through her lungs. Mike goes to stand next to Rosaly as the woman is led away. The crowd starts to disperse.

“I can’t believe you wanted to trach her,” she laughs playfully nudging him.

“What would you have done if the adrenaline didn't work?” He asks.

“I would have pushed another adrenaline,” She explains.

“And then?” He asked crossing his arms.

“Then intubation.” She mirrors his body language.

"With 2 adrenaline's in her system?”

“Oh I’m sorry in which universe is an awake tracheostomy better then intubation?” She tilts her head waiting for a response.

“Won’t make a difference if she’s not breathing.” He says back. I can tell this is riling them both up, the mix of adrenaline and alcohol is not helping, look over at Price.

“This is the problem with you Mike all you want to do is cut, you’re a surgeon first.” She bends down picking her bag up.

“Okay calm down you two,” Price intervenes before Mike can reply. “She’s alive and she’s okay, lets enjoy the rest of the night.” Rosaly sighs and heads back to the table throwing her bag underneath the table picking up her drink. I see her hand shake as she sips it. She’ll never admit it but she loves this, the high of an unexpected medical emergency. That’s why she has the bag with her, for moments like this. She turns to look at me, I see the shine in her eyes, the fire in her belly, she smiles at me. I smile back I know she can tell her hand reaches out and squeezes mine. God I can’t wait to rip that dress off her later.

I cannot wait to start med school

[jaidens]

hi :) if you're comfortable with it, could you write daniel supporting a reader struggling with body image? i'm just having a hard time tonight being nice to myself about the way i look and it would really comfort me <3 no pressure & no worries if not since i know it can be a touchy subject ! thanks 🤍

And When I Break, It's In A Million Pieces

pairing [s] : daniel larusso x reader

warning [s] : self-talk abt \ image | crying | my overall warning is if this topic may upset anyone in any way, you get this warning and you don't have to read it.

a/n [s] : hey sweetheart! I'm fully comfortable with anything besides obvious triggers. we all have hard nights and I want you to remember you're beautiful/handsome in every way. Now here's some Danny.

You were trying.

That's all you recognized about your feelings.

Nobody's way of healing is the exact same as everyone else's, and that's what you told yourself. However, the damned mirror that stood in front of you, pulling you to nitpick at yourself. It started off simple, hand running across certain parts of your face that you didn't particularly enjoy about yourself.

Then it escalated to seeing spots that nobody would have noticed, but you did. Your mom would always mention how observant you were whenever you were younger. Who knew it would follow you to your middle school and highschool years of your life?

Daniel had an idea about your feelings. He caught you crying under the bleachers one day and he held you until everything felt better. That's what you wished you had right at this moment. Tears prick your vision, blurring out the figure in the mirror.

Then, it suddenly hits you, Daniel was coming over soon for a movie night. Your room is a mess with clothes you tossed on the floor. A small knock churns through your door and you speak out a quick, “Who is it?!” You hear a small cough and out follows, “Daniel, baby! I brought the snacks you wanted…!”

You smile at the door and tell him to come in, which he quickly follows and throws the various snacks and candy on your bed. He walks up behind you and runs his hands on your arms. “How are you doing? I heard your Ma say that you weren't feeling the best.” Daniel's lip gently kisses behind your ear, making you smile softly and out your head on his shoulder.

“Oh. It was nothing. I just had a small cold.” Daniel nods and you turn out of his arms to grab the remote. The TV is playing Sixteen Candles, a movie you saw with Daniel on your eighth month anniversary. Inherently, you would have squeezed into Daniel's arms and held onto him as tight as possible.

However, now how you had seen yourself, you decided to stay a few inches apart from him with your legs pulled to your chest. Thirty minutes into the movie, Daniel noticed something was off. The way you pulled your body closer together and felt the lump pull back into your throat again.

He gives you your favorite pack of candy, but you only take two bites and throw it to the side. It's unusual for you, but he shrugged it off. He knows that you might still be a little sick. He lays closer to you, head on your arm and you scratch his dark brown hair. He's paying attention to the screen and you, smiling at both whenever he looks around.

The movie ends, the credits rolling across the screen whenever he flicks your lamp on. He sits up, getting closer to you. “You seem off,” Daniel tells you, hand falling gently against your thigh, rubbing against the shorts you were clad in. You knew the real Daniel. The Daniel that held onto you and cried after Johnny ridiculed him just enough. The Daniel that went in the middle of the road to save a kitten and raised it. “Are you sure you're feeling okay? Not just sickness wise.”

Your breath hitches in your throat, and you try and swallow down the lump that makes everything feel worse. The tears that pool up again are prominent as you try to let out some words. “I—I have been having some trouble..” Quietly calls from your mouth, tears getting heavy and falling from your eyes. “Do you actually think I look good? Be honest.” You ask him, staring into the brown eyes that begin darting across your face to admire it.

“You want me to be honest?” Daniel asks while his tongue darts out to lick his lips. “I think you're the prettiest thing ever. You're hot. Definitely hot. And ya’ got these gorgeous eyes that make me swoon.” You smile at him gently and connect your lips against his parted ones. His hand falls on your neck before you both pull away. “You know, when I lived in Jersey, I used to get picked on a whole lot by this guy named Tony. I let myself get down by it and Ma would have to carry me home because I tried to punch him. Not the best idea. That was the second time I got my ass kicked by someone.”

You laugh slightly before laying further in his arms. You kiss him again, getting closer to him. “I just, compare myself to everyone else. Especially in all those magazines. I read them and see the girls with the long legs and they're as tiny as barbie dolls. I just can't help thinking that I'm not your type.” You admitted to him as you wrapped your arms against your stomach again.

“You are definitely my type. I think you're real beautiful. I always love your outfits and the way you need to stare at every item you see in the mall. You're my favorite person in the whole world. Mr. Miyagi asked me one day, “Daniel-San, have you ever been in love?” and I told him you were the one I was gonna marry, y'know.” His confession makes you melt in his arms. Daniel wasn't the best at explaining his feelings, and you had recognized that early one. So, the way he was talking was new to you.

“You’re so sweet. Always making m’ feel so good. I love you, Danny.” You tell him, feeling his arms wrap around you. “I love you too beautiful. Now, can you scratch my hair again. That makes me feel so tired.” He asks you, giving his head to you and laying in your arms.

You know you can always count on Daniel to make you feel better on bad days. However, now he knows how to take care of you better and the right things to say to you.

[spacequokka]

Boxed Chocolates

Pairing: Prince!Mark x Queen!Reader Genre: Royalty AU Rating: G Summary: Mark brings you those chocolates you like. Word Count: 0.8k Warnings: Minor character death mentioned.

Since your dad had died, nothing had been the same.

You despised it all. The people, the duties, the crown. The way they all carried on, as if losing a loved one wasn’t a big deal. As if you weren’t all alone now. Left to live a miserable life of politics, misogyny, and outrageous expectations. Heavy is the crown, indeed.

A knock on your door pulled you from your journal. “Come in.”

A maid poked her head inside. “I’ve brought the dresses Miss Ella called for.” Oh, right. The fittings for the coronation.

“Bring them in, please.” You put your pen down and pushed away from the desk. “Thank you, Dosie.”

She bowed and pushed the door open, revealing the large rack with an array of fabric. As she pushed it into the room, she added, “And you have a visitor, the prince.”

Anyone else would take offense to being announced like that, as an afterthought, but Dosie understood your feelings about rushing the ceremony. You rose to your feet. “Then I’ll go deal with him first. Pick out a dress to start with, will you?”

The prince, “Just Mark” as he preferred, was a fairly quiet fellow full of mischief and wisdom. Your father had introduced you two shortly before announcing his illness and formally declaring you his successor. The reason was clear as day: you needed someone to help you rule the kingdom. However, Mark had yet to propose. His focus hovered between making sure you were as happy as someone grieving could be and stirring up trouble.

“There you are.” Mark met you halfway as you entered the room, taking your hand and guiding you right back out. “I have treats!”

“What kind of treats?” You wondered, matching his cover whisper.

“Remember when we first met and my parents brought those fancy chocolates with the soft nougat inside?”

Your face lit up. “Yes! They were so delicious.”

“Guess who found out who made them.” He pulled a box from behind his back.

“Mark, you’re a godsend!” You hugged him, excitement bubbling up inside you for the first time since your father’s death.

“I know.” He grinned, clearly pleased with himself. “Now come on, let’s go try them out.”

You followed him out of the castle and down to the gardens, where he had set up a small picnic. There were blankets laid out on the grass, and he had brought a basket filled with sandwiches and fruit.

“I thought we could use some fresh air,” he said as he spread out the blanket. “And some good food, of course.”

You smiled gratefully, sitting down next to him. The sun was just starting to set, casting a warm golden glow over everything. It was peaceful here, away from the chaos of the castle.

You took a sandwich and bit into it, the flavors exploding in your mouth. “This is amazing.”

“I know a good sandwich when I taste one.” Mark winked at you. “So, can I be honest with you?”

You groaned, “No. Not you too.”

“I know, and I’m sorry. I couldn’t think of a better way to broach the subject.” He picked at the blanket. “They’re pushing me to announce my intentions. I know you’re not ready, and I’ve told them as much, but they won’t shut up about it.”

You took another chocolate. “So, you want me to do something about it?”

He shook his head. “Actually no. I just need your permission to speak for the two of us.” He looked you in the eyes, resolute and firm as he continued speaking, “We’ll marry, but not right away. I want you to have time to heal a little. I intend to relocate here with you and I can assume my duties without you needing to be bothered with anything until you’re ready to.”

“That-that’s actually great.” You swallowed and sat up a little straighter. “I mean, it works for me. Everything’s just so…overwhelming right now. I could use some time to myself.”

He smiled, teeth sparkling in the sunset. “That’s what I was hoping to hear. So,” he dug into his pocket and pulled out a velvet box. “Of course, you’ll need this.” He opened it revealing an elaborate ring. “Will you allow me the pleasure of sneaking you away for chocolates and fighting off those pesky councilmen for the rest of my life?” He leaned in with a mischievous grin. “There’ll be lots of troublemaking, I promise.”

Despite the tears threatening to fall, you found yourself laughing. “Oh, thank God. I wouldn’t have you if you didn’t bring the mischief.” You dabbed at your eyes with a smile. “There’s no one else I’d rather have by my side.”

[ms-moonlight-inn]

💥💥It’s the Wednesday Tag Game💥💥

Today’s tag game is about our wonderful fandom! Tagged by my lovelies @jrooc & @vintagelacerosette & @guinguin1984 & @blue-disco-lights & @mybrainismelted & @energievie & @doshiart

How did you get into the fandom? 

I started watching the show 'cause I was raised in the inner-city & heard that there was this new show that was doing this really good, honest depiction of inner-city life. Tell me the 'hood is being accurately depicted & neither romanticized, nor made into a caricature & I show up. Those first few seasons were so familiar to me in both comforting & repulsive ways.

And THEN there also happens to be a gay 'ship in this show?! 😱 I mean, there was no way I could escape the pull of Shameless.

So, it started with me binging back episodes, and it escalated to fanart. Then I tripped across some fanfic... I was a creepy creeper lurking in the background for a long time. Eventually, I struck up a conversation with @dancermk in her comment section. And it all snowballed from there. (Sorry, I just said snowballed –it's not meant to be used as a euphemism.)

What’s the first fandom channel you found? (Youtube, Reddit, Tumblr, Insta, Twitter, FB, other?)

Strangely enough, it was Pinterest, I think. It was some fanart or fanfic that was pinned & I followed the thread to AO3.

what’s your favourite now? 

Tumblr, but I find myself on Discord a lot lately. I used to spend my time on Twitter until musk took over.

Which mutual have you known the longest in the fandom?

The longest who is still in the fandom is @notherenewjersey. The longest who aren't in the fandom @dancermk & @stillbeatingheart

Which tumblerino’s did you have your first fandom crush(es) on and want to get to know?

😆 Anyone I've wanted to get to know has, unfortunately, been subjected to my extrovertedness. I don't think you can stop me from talking to people. 🫠 If I'm intrigued by someone's approach to Gallavich, I will interact & it's normally the response to my interaction that dictates how much I'll "harass" you.

First Gallavich fan fic you read (or that blew you away that you remember)

The first one that really drew me into the fandom & made me want to find other things to read was "As Long As The World Keeps Spinning," by @doodlevich. The whole Husbands and Shit series is so good.

First Fan art that blew your mind? 

So many, but the first one that really made my eyes pop out & my heart beat thump loudly in my chest was this one by @darthvaders-wife . It's so very representative of Mickey.

Fanfic trope that you were sure wasn’t for you but now you low key (or high key) love?

🤫🤫🤫 (but also any shade of monster fucking? though I always liked that. so, maybe praise kink, though I've always liked that, as well.)

ACTUALLY, now that I think about it, a lot of the fluff tags I thought would not be for me. And I wouldn't say that they are a high-key love of mind, because I do absolutely adore angst. But, I am much more tolerant of semi plotless domestic fluff than I ever thought I would be.

What surprised you most about this fandom?

The amount of good writing & art'ing we're privileged to have. There's just SO MUCH good here. 🥺🥰

Moment in the show (or YT vids if you’re one of those) that you fell in hyperfixation with Gallavich?

The scene at the docks. All of it. Before the kiss, during the kiss, after the kiss. 🫠

Ian or Mickey?

(I don't play this reindeer game)

Which Gallagher or Milkovich are you? 

Ugh. I wanna say Sandy, but I'm probably more of a Lip 😭

***

Tagging @notherenewjersey

[evelhak]

Seen so many bad jokes about autistic people's literal black & white thinking that I wanted to talk about how it might actually look like. Yeah, sure, haha it's very funny if you say you have to turn the place upside down and someone thinks you literally want to turn the house on its roof, but who would actually think that? Sure, that image would pop in my head but I wouldn't think that's what you meant. Like, most people can understand the meaning of common sayings they've heard all their lives, even if they did misunderstand them for the first few times of hearing them. So if you're trying to write an autistic character and you're not autistic, here's some examples that could be helpful.

My mom asked me to empty the dishwasher while she was at the store. Once she came back and went to the kitchen, I wanted to ask her something, don't remember what anymore, but she replied that she was admiring my work in the kitchen. To which I just laughed and continued with my initial question. At this point my mom was suddenly enraged and I didn't understand why, until it became clear that she had wanted me to both empty and fill the dishwasher, which I had not understood, and "admiring my work" was sarcasm because she thought I was just being lazy and did know what she had meant. And her rage came from the fact that she also assumed I had understood her sarcasm and chose to ignore it.

What I want a writer to take away from this is 1) there's an internal logic to my thought process and actions that is just as logical as my mom's. It's not random and once I understood where my mom was coming from there was no longer confusion. 2) I also learned from this and didn't repeat the same mistake ever again.

Once at the doctor's office I was given a list of about a 100 things that one should avoid eating if they have IBS. I took the list and went home, immediately started to follow the list for a month. Next time at the doctor's office I was asked if I had been using the list and which things I had been avoiding. I blinked in confusion. All of them of course. The doctor's eyes widened. "All of them??" I was just like... Yeah. Apparently I should have understood that I could pick and choose.

What I think is important here is that 1) autistic people aren't necessarily "rigid" as if that's negative. We tend to process things very deeply so we assume instructions are to be taken seriously. 2) Again I learned from this and remember to ask specific instructions more these days.

This happened a LOT with my girlfriend: she would say something half heartedly, like, she wanted to go to a movie, and I immediately began to arrange when we could go and when I asked her if that day was good she didn't even remember she had wanted to go to a movie anymore. Because it hadn't been a serious statement, just a thought. But I could not tell the difference between serious and non-serious wishes because the words used for them would be literally the same, and I default to seriousness.

Here I'd like to highlight how 1) this example is more complicated because this dynamic can apply to so many different situations that it's harder to not make the "same" mistake again. 2) The default assumption for me is that all of people's words have the same weight. Sure, I have learned to tell pretty well if people are joking, but when they are not exactly joking it's hard to tell the degree of seriousness.

Obviously I'm giving myself as just an example.

All in all, my point is I want writers to consider the LOGIC, the subjective reasoning behind a character's actions just like they would for any other character. You can't just copy and paste together a bunch of autistic traits with no rhyme or reason because the traits are just the outcome of an internal process. They are just the visible part. And for any individual just being autistic isn't enough of a reason to give them a specific trait you have to figure out why their specific autistic presentation is the way it is. Autism is just the label. It's not the explanation. You have to understand how the individual traits your character has, relate to each other and work together from inside out, if you actually want to create good representation.

Obviously I know this is hard. It's almost like it's difficult to think with a different brain type to your own. But that's something autistic people who are high maskers attempt everyday, and can be quite successful at too. But there are still "leaks". These examples are some of mine.

[bagopucks]

C. Caufield - College Despair

✄————————————

Cole Caufield x College!reader

Requested✨

Word Count: 2.8k

Warning(s): mention of body image concerns, overwhelmed reader, seductive Cole, fluff and sadness.

The only proofread I did was a light skim over twice <3

I will do a part two of the next day if anybody wants it.

—————————————

I was not usually one to make Cole wake up alone after road trips. Due to the All Star Weekend, Cole had just returned from his last away game, and the Canadians had no future events planned for days.

He said he wanted to spend some real quality time together. I smiled and nodded last night simply to get him to go to sleep, but I knew quality time would be moments few and far in between. I still had school work. Essays and endless notes I had to transfer or write down. I was overwhelmed. I needed extra time on things I was already running out of time on. I sat in the extra bedroom of our apartment. We had it decorated like a second little living space. We called it our movie room, but I decided it was going to be a study space for the time being.

I had my folders and notebooks sprawled out on the couch, my laptop on the table in front of me while I sat and pulled at the sleeves of Cole’s oversized Habs hoodie. I had on a pair of bike shorts underneath. On the table, I had a few pieces of butter and jelly toast I had since forgotten. Untouched.

I was hungry, but I was never one to give myself anything until I felt I properly achieved a work goal. Perhaps I was too hard on myself.

I stared down at the list of undone assignments. I began to grow tired with the feeling of being overwhelmed. The tears sprung to my eyes. I pushed through and opened one of the first assignments.

Sometimes I wondered if I even needed college. I had dreams I wanted to pursue, but at the same time, in moments like these, I often fantasized about being a stay at home girlfriend. Relaxing and living a life of leisure while I took care of the apartment and delved into my many hobbies I had since left behind because of college.

“Babe?” I felt my heart drop at the sound of Cole’s voice. Somehow he always managed to sound like a lost child when he couldn’t find me. Right now I needed him to mind his business.

I remained silent, staring at the door as if a monster was going to break in and get me. The comfort monster. The distraction I wanted but didn’t need.

When silence followed, I turned back to my computer. I reached for the notebook that corresponded with the subject I was on, and one of my various colored pens.

I started reading through the assignment, jotting down the information I needed before I heard the door to the movie room open. I sighed.

“Babe?” I looked up at Cole just as he looked down at me. I grew frustrated with him. His brow creased with worry.

“Oh mama…” usually that nickname made me feel butterflies. Sometimes Cole spoke it jokingly, other times he liked to use it to flirt. Now, the nickname fell on deaf ears as I stared him down.

“We were supposed to spend quality time together. Remember?” Cole was cautious as he walked into the room, his eyes falling to the mess that was notebooks and supplies. Then they landed on my toast. He reached for it, and pressed a finger to the side of one of the pieces of bread. I watched him with a furrowed brow.

“Your toast is pretty cold now.” I realized what he was doing. “Cold toast isn’t good. C’mon. I’ll make you something.” He held his hand out to me. I shook my head.

“I have work to do, Coley. Why don’t you go out with the guys today? Or you could give Trev a call? He’s in the ASG this year.”

“I called him last night before I got home. And I just spent a week on the road with the guys. You know who I haven’t spent time with?” His lips pursed and his brow raised, expecting me to answer his question.

I sighed and dropped my pen on my notebook. “Me.” I mumbled as my head fell into my hands.

“Just breakfast.. okay? Then I promise you can crawl back into your dark den of college despair.” Cole grabbed one of my hands and pried it from my face. I looked up at him helplessly.

“Just breakfast, Cole.” I warned.

“You got it. I’ll meet you in the kitchen. I have to change.”

We parted ways after he smiled at me. I trudged out to the kitchen while Cole skipped excitedly into our bedroom. I could barely focus on quality time knowing I had so much to get done. I leaned back against the counter top, and those previous tears returned. I tried to wipe them away swiftly. Just in time for Cole to return in a matching sweatshirt, his boxers, and a pair of long socks on.

Biggest distraction of my life.

“Alright. What do you wanna eat?” I shrugged at his question. “What about eggs? Or we could do pancakes? Homemade waffles?”

I slowly wrapped my arms around my grumbling stomach. I hated how good it all sounded, and how wasteful with time I was being.

“Waffles are your favorites.” Cole reached for me and placed his hands on my arms.

“Waffles are fine.” I finally gave in. Cole’s smile faded.

“Is college really freaking you out this bad?” He turned away to grab the items and ingredients needed to make breakfast while I slowly hoisted myself up onto the island counter top.

“Guess so.” I shrugged. “I have all this work.. and it’s just- it’s a lot.”

Cole nodded. He left the waffle maker over by the stove and turned to me with his arms full of waffle ingredients.

“You’ll help me.. yeah?” He looked so dorky, I couldn’t help but nod.

“Yeah.. I’ll help you. Wouldn’t want my waffles tasting horrible.” I teased as he set everything down beside me on the counter.

“Don’t be rude.” Cole muttered out as he nudged my legs apart to open the cabinet drawer the scissors were in. Once he pushed it shut, I pulled my legs together again. He cut open the package of waffle mix before pouring that into the mixing bowl.

Soon, we both fell into our usual routine of prepping meals together. Something we both enjoyed vastly. We had a good kitchen routine. One we built well together, to the point that at times, we both faltered in moments where we cooked apart.

There were nights I would try making myself Alfredo or a more complex dish, only to turn away from the cutting board and turn back ten minutes later to realize I did not have Cole to help with cutting. He admitted to me that he did the same thing sometimes.

His issues however, lied more with recipe reading. He was a victim of forgetfulness in the kitchen. And when I wasn’t there to remind him of what he needed, he often got lost and frustrated.

“Mix that while I grease the waffle maker.” Cole held out the spatula to me and I nodded.

I hoisted the mixing bowl into my lap and began to mix together the waffle batter while my eyes travelled up and down Cole’s backside. I stretched a leg out to nudge his thigh with my foot. He adjusted his stance and tried to focus on what he was doing. Which wasn’t a long task.

When I nudged his leg again, he was turning to look at me. Cole raised a brow, smiling from ear to ear.

“Can I help you?” He asked as he made his way back across the small space between our stove and the island.

“Nope. Just wanted you closer so I could get a handful of that ass.” I teased before I set the mixing bowl down by my side, leaving the spatula in it. Cole laughed and rested his hands on my thighs.

“Well if you’d spend the rest of the day with me, then maybe you can.” By no fault of his own, my mind wandered back to my work. My smile slowly faded.

“Cole.” I chided. “You said just breakfast.”

“I know.. but- what if tomorrow.. tomorrow I will sit with you all day and help you do your work.”

It sounded so perfect. A full day of being with Cole, but still having a chance to get some assignments done.

“Cole, I can’t.”

“Yes you can.” He insisted, that hopeful look on his face inevitably leading to my downfall. I tried to fight it. Tried to reason with myself that this was a horrible idea-

“That’s fine, but you can’t pull any funny business. I’m serious.” I reached out to wrap my arms around his neck. He nodded and moved his hands up my thighs and to my hips.

“No funny business. I’ll even work the calculator for you.” I smiled at his words.

“You’ll even work the calculator,” I mocked. “How’d I get so lucky?” I leaned forward, and Cole’s eyes travelled to my lips before I kissed him.

Once we pulled away, he squeezed my hips.

“You have to switch counters.” He pointed toward the countertop by the stove.

“I’ll just stand with you.” I laughed softly as I slipped to the floor.

Cole grabbed the mixing bowl and carried it to the opposite counter, setting it down by the stove. I gasped.

“We’re missing something!” His eyes went wide as I bolted across the kitchen to open one of our cabinets. I grabbed a bag of chocolate chips and returned, grabbing the discarded scissors.

“Woah woah woah.” Cole slowed me down. I looked up at him. “I can’t do chocolate chips.” I raised a brow.

“Why not? You love these!”

“I’m supposed to be staying fit.” I cut the top off the bag as he spoke. I set it down next to the mixing bowl and strategically slipped my hand beneath Cole’s sweatshirt, gliding it over the various dips and bumps of his abs. He shivered at the chill from my skin.

“I think you’ll be fine, mama.” I teased. We both had moments like these, worried about our weights, but I knew Cole was particularly tense about his because of his height. He insisted his muscle was what made up for the lost inches of height.

“Tomorrow we’ll do healthy stuff.” I decided to make a bargain of my own. He’d help me with school work, and I’d keep our meals strictly healthy. I slipped my hand out from beneath his sweatshirt.

“Fine. But not too many chocolate chips.”

I nodded and grabbed the bag before I began to dump the chocolate chips into the batter. After I decided we had enough, I set the bag aside and began to mix the chocolate in.

Cole’s arms wrapped around my body from behind.

“I wish we could do this more often.” He whispered.

“We have three days, Cole. Three days of you and me. Let’s just worry about that for now.” After I finished mixing the chocolate in, I wiped one side of the spatula off on the lip of the bowl. I held the spatula over my shoulder, and Cole’s arms immediately disappeared from my midsection to grab it.

He took a bit of the batter on his finger and licked it off before giving me a nod of approval.

“I’ll pour ‘em on, but you have to time it. I’m not good at telling when they’re done.” Cole spoke and I nodded.

It was around thirty minutes of making waffles before Cole and I had two plates full. I carried them back into the movie room while he grabbed butter, syrup, and utensils.

Guilt ate at me while I found an empty place on the coffee table to set our plates, but Cole was close behind me, and ready to shove my notebooks and laptop aside.

He set the various items he held down next to our food and began gathering all of my books, shutting my laptop, and inevitably placing it all in a big pile on the armchair in the room.

I glanced at him with uncertainty. He looked right back with a bright smile.

“Any movie suggestions?” Cole questioned as he plopped down on the couch and got everything situated. I quickly sat beside him and reached for the tv remote.

“Not sure. We can look though.” And like most, we looked for what felt like hours. Until Cole gave up and I decided on Me Before You. A movie I assumed would be sweet to watch in the early hours of the day. Cole got situated holding his plate and eating, while I sat back against the arm of the couch and threw my legs over his lap.

By the time we finished eating and plates were discarded on the table, Cole remained in his spot. I had moved closer to lean against his side, my knees bent over his lap still, while his hands massaged my calves. I couldn’t see Cole’s face, but I knew he was crying too. Me Before You was in fact, not a good morning movie.

We both sniffed occasionally, and tried to inconspicuously wipe our eyes. Cole’s hands gripped my calves even tighter at times.

“If that ever happens to me.. you’ll stick around, yeah?” His question caught me completely off guard. It wasn’t a likely possibility concerning his job, but it was still a possibility.

“Absolutely.” I whispered in response, looking up at Cole as his head turned to peek down at me. I couldn’t help but smile sadly at the tears in his eyes.

“You picked a pretty shitty movie.” He informed me as he sniffed.

“I didn’t mean to. We should have just watched Wedding Crashers for the fiftieth time.” We both broke out into quiet fits of laughter. One of Cole’s hands slipped from my calf to my shin, and slowly up to my thigh. I reached out to cup his cheek.

“We still have a long day ahead of us to forget this movie.” I assured.

“Can I take you out?” I couldn’t help but smile at the fact that he asked so politely. My thumb brushed across his cheek.

“Of course you can.” I whispered dreamily and slowly leaned forward. Cole tried to connect our lips, but I moved to keep mere inches between our faces. He chuckled softly, deciding to play along with my little teasing and flirting game.

“Will you get all dressed up?” His eyes flickered between my own eyes and my lips.

“Only if you get dressed up for me.” I moved my hand from his cheek to the back of his head, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck.

“And I get to take you home with me at the end of the night?”

“I’ll think about it.”

“God Damnit.” Cole mumbled out playfully with a sigh. “Least I have you at home now.”

“You do.” I finally allowed my eyes to slip down to his lips, and Cole caught on quickly. He kissed me, and I was swift to keep his lips on mine by applying pressure to the back of his head.

I only pulled away when the light from the tv flickered. I smiled at Cole before I gently patted his thigh.

“I have to get a shower.”

“Oh yeah.. I need one too.”

I had to do a double take when I stood up.

“You took one last night.”

“Yeah? Maybe I need another.”

I raised a brow.

“Use the guest bathroom.”

“Our shower is big enough for the both of us.”

I placed my hands on my hips.

“Cole, I need a shower. Not a sexcapade.”

“I don’t know.” Cole stood up and rested his hands on my hips. He took slow steps backwards toward the door of the movie room, and I walked with him simply to continue our conversation. “Why not both?”

“We don’t have enough hot water for both.” I glared.

“I’ll keep you warm.”

I gave him another gentle push, but Cole pulled me into his chest nonetheless, lifting me off the floor with a chuckle. I reluctantly gave in, wrapping my legs around his midsection as his hands held me up.

“You win, but just this once.” I pointed a finger at him.

“This is all the quality time I need.” His words earned him a slap on the shoulder.

“One. Time. Caufield.”

“You’ll change your mind after our date tonight.”

✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾

[idontwanttospoiltheparty]

Thank you so much for taking the time to reply to my ask! The way you write your view on things is very beautiful and reading your reply actually brought me a lot of peace on the subject. Your comment on Paul being somewhat akin to a soundboard for everyone’s grief really stood out to me in particular. I know for one that I can find myself wishing to believe a certain narrative to ease my grief. Maybe to a certain extent Paul has done the same, the other alternative too awful to acknowledge. Hence the adamant love he shares about John with the world today. Alongside this, everyone looking to him to give something, an answer, a comfort to allow them to understand this tragedy somehow. He could feel a certain sense of responsibility. I also wonder if it could be mixed up with other things. Like the very angry public reaction Paul received immediately after Johns death and the months following. His comment “it’s a drag" being misinterpreted for example. Perhaps there’s a part of Paul who’s learnt not to share any sign of complexity at all, instead only one of devoted love. However I believe if that was some part, it would be a small one, perhaps even an unconscious one. I think mostly it would be growing with his grief over time and being able to see things in a clearer more simple light. Which was one of a deep love, platonic or not, for his best friend. What do you think?

In terms of what a more tragic scenario would be, I found your opinion on these very eye opening. Each one being awful in different ways of course but each one also having a certain acceptance you can find within them. Your thoughts on the one sided love and the sting being somewhat lifted through the ‘nothing to be done’ notion was strangely very comforting to me! I thank you for lifting my own thoughts on this as it was the one I originally found most depressing. On the other hand the mutual love scenario where (assuming here) they were both aware of each others feelings I still find myself drifting towards. I suppose I find this less tragic as it meant that at one point in their lives, they were on exactly the same page with each other. On every aspect. A fleeting time I’m sure, but a time of certainty on both sides. It could be argued that this certainty would be a like a rock for Paul to fall back on in his doubting moments after John’s death. (However I can also see your point of this actually having the opposite effect.)

In terms of the ‘truth.’ As you say there’s a lot of evidence to make an educated guess that John’s sexuality wasn’t straight. His wife being one of them. But what I find strange is Paul being so adamant that John most definitely was straight. Surely he would have known John best after Yoko, potentially even more, so I find him not knowing or not picking up on that at all very unlikely. Then why the denial? I had thought he was either outright lying (Maybe to hide something between them or to protect his memory?) Or there might be a certain internalised homophobia within himself? Or indeed the thought that Yoko was exaggerating things massively. I’m not sure at all, what are your thoughts?

I can see the story of the boy from your high school being a reason for John’s behaviour towards Paul in the 70’s. I can also see this as a reaction to a certain on off relationship between the two. One minute being emotionally vulnerable with eachother, perhaps sleeping together, the next minute getting scared and backing away, leaving the other confused and hurt. (John having a public reaction while Paul having a private one.) This cycle repeating itself until apparently reconciling in the late 70’s. It rings true to me whatever their relationship was, an intense platonic one, a sexual one or a pining one sided situation.) I wonder what you thought of the James McCartney quote where he remembers sitting on Johns lap, which meant Paul and John saw each other after 1976? I don’t have a source for the quote so I’m not sure if it’s real at all!

Lastly, what I loved about your reply was the reminder (which I sometimes forget) that even if it was one sided, it doesn’t mean Paul loved John any less. Indeed him craving John’s attention I could believe too. A powerful friendship can be just as tumultuous, passionate and deeply moving as any other kind of relationship. I find your holistic view on mclennon very refreshing, I love the discussion!

Hi anon! This is a very long, thoughtful message, so I'm going to break it up into points:

Perhaps there’s a part of Paul who’s learnt not to share any sign of complexity at all, instead only one of devoted love.

I think this hits the nail on the head quite well, though I also think Paul does often imply there's something more complex going on in his John feelings, he just doesn't very usually bring that part out in the open. Because few people want to hear it, for one, and because whatever truly negative feelings he has towards John, they're probably ultimately unproductively upsetting to him.

Your thoughts on the one sided love and the sting being somewhat lifted through the ‘nothing to be done’ notion was strangely very comforting to me!

I'm very happy I was able to give you a perspective which made thinking about the whole thing easier :)

On the other hand the mutual love scenario where (assuming here) they were both aware of each others feelings I still find myself drifting towards. I suppose I find this less tragic as it meant that at one point in their lives, they were on exactly the same page with each other.

This is interesting to me, because I tend to find it rather unlikely that John was in love with Paul all along. So I would wager there was a pre-attraction period during which they were on the same page. When that was exactly, is hard to say, but I do believe it existed. I'm also unconvinced that if they had reciprocated attraction towards each other, that they were both actually aware of this at the time.

In terms of the ‘truth.’ As you say there’s a lot of evidence to make an educated guess that John’s sexuality wasn’t straight. His wife being one of them. But what I find strange is Paul being so adamant that John most definitely was straight. Surely he would have known John best after Yoko, potentially even more, so I find him not knowing or not picking up on that at all very unlikely. Then why the denial?

I was talking to someone about this recently. There's ways in which the bird's eye view we have of the band's history is actually advantageous with regards to understanding these things, as opposed to spending every day with someone. Paul probably did see a lot of "clues" about John, and I do think he has some cognitive dissonance regarding some of them, but if these clues were "sparsely distributed" enough, it would be hard for him, living through the 60s from day to day, to assemble them into a coherent conclusion. (Tangential, but I wrote a fic that is kind of 100% about this as a concept lol) I also think Paul, while having had friendships with many gay people, probably hasn't actually dealt with a friend he already knew well coming out to him, and is thus underestimating the amount John may have been hiding (however bad John was at hiding). It also just seems like a thing he finds inappropriate to speak about in public. It's hard to know how "personally" the denial he expresses should be taken.

I wonder what you thought of the James McCartney quote where he remembers sitting on Johns lap, which meant Paul and John saw each other after 1976? I don’t have a source for the quote so I’m not sure if it’s real at all!

I honestly think it's complete conjecture that they last saw each other in '76/taking John far too much at his exact word (in the Playboy interview, I wanna say?) There's a fair amount of evidence pointing to them seeing each other as recently as '79, I think. Some people say they saw each other weeks before John was killed, but that's a lot more speculative. How often they saw each other is another question, one I don't know the answer to (and fear is quite depressing).

I find your holistic view on mclennon very refreshing, I love the discussion!

Thank you! :) Holistic is certainly what I strive for in my analyses

[thegodmother007]

My New Neighbor Chapter 5: Got Plans?

TRIGGER WARNING: This story will eventually contain violence, angst, threat of death, swearing, dark humor, adult themes like sex & drugs, racism, classism, sexism etc. Do not say you have not been warned

Chapter 5: Got Plans?

It’s been about a week since Vi has fully moved in and besides the occasional shaking of my floors from a heavy misplaced footstep, things were going smoothly. I had not talked to Vi since we first introduced ourselves, and that was okay with me. I was meticulous about keeping to my routine. My routine was safe, manageable and predictable. It did not involve me interacting with giants, despite the new tenant. This was comfortable for me. 

I was sitting in my living room, catching up on some Baldur’s Gate when I heard and felt a knocking at my wall. The same wall I shared with Vi and also separated our units, giving us privacy from the other. I was not sure if that knocking was intentional until it happened a second time shortly after the first, but a little harder this time. I looked down to see I only had a pair of basketball shorts on with some powdered cheese smeared around the pockets from the doritos I was munching on. I quickly jump up, running to the door & pushing my thumb against the speaker we had that would allow us to hear the other through the door. “Hold on” I say quickly, grabbing a worn out sweatshirt I had hanging off a kitchen chair. Once zipped up, I pressed my buzzer, requesting entry & she buzzed me in. 

As I walk in, I can see that Vi was lowering herself to her knees to be closer to my level. Although still high above me, it did lessen the intimidation I felt at her great height. As I enter, I offer a confused smile as she sits on the floor, holding a flier in front of her. “Uh, yea?” I asked, looking up at her, not bothering to read the flier first. At the time, I only registered that the giant wanted something from me and I didn’t know what. I could see she was smiling, excited over something. “I just picked this up from the front desk!” she said, shaking the flier a bit. My attention was grabbed & I began to read this flier she held. Looking at it, it read: “Hedge Heights Trivia Night! Monday at 6:00pm, in the Common Area. Must be 18+ & have a  partner to enter. Apartment residents only.” I stared at it, finally understanding why she might be excited. “Trivia night?” I asked her, feeling immediately uninterested in the whole idea, but trying to hide my aversion. “Yes! On Monday, they’re having a Trivia Night for all Hedge Heights residents.” She turns the poster over to read more detail. “Subjects will include History, Science, General Knowledge, Sports & Movies! You have to have a partner to enter & I was wondering if you’d maybe be interested in going?” I stood there, kind of surprised she asked me at all, so I felt kind of bad declining the invite. “Ehh…I am not much of a trivia person. I was never a good test taker in school, I don't know if I would be much help to you…” I tried giving any excuse I could to get out of it. But in truth, I wasn't lying, I never was good at taking tests, so there is no way I'd be good at trivia. Vi’s face went from excitement to disappointment, clearly banking on a ‘Yes’ from me. “But you mentioned that you liked sports when we first met, that's the only category I don't have confidence in.” I felt nervous telling Vi “No” but reminded myself that this is my roommate, I would have to be honest if I am to remain comfortable in my own home. “I don't know Vi, I've never really been good at being put on the spot, I only follow a few sports, there is bound to be someone who knows much more than I do.” Again Vi slumps a bit, looking at the poster again but not saying much. I try to break the awkward silence “Thank you for thinking of me though, but it’s just not my scene…” I turn to walk back towards my door, trying to remember where I left off in my game. I am then stopped in my tracks by Vi’s next question: “Not even for $250?” She asked with a tempting inflection. I turned, looking at her puzzled. Vi reads off the poster “Grand prize of $250 to the winning team…” she says with a raised eyebrow. 

When money talks, I listen. I stood there, thinking about it, now there was added incentive. I don't work this upcoming Monday & $250 between us is $125 each, that could help me buy some new gaming equipment. I could even afford a new game or two if I wanted. “So?” She asks, holding up the flier “You in?” She says with a smirk, knowing she just won me over by the look on her face. I nod with my hands on my hips “I guess I could clear my calendar for that night. What about the other categories though? I really only know sports from what was listed on the poster.” Vi smiles “Don't worry, I got us covered” she says with a confidence I couldn’t quite bring myself to believe. “You got us covered? Are you sure about that?” I saw Vi’s face contort into one of questioning & obvious annoyance “Are you doubting me?” She asks with an almost playful offense in her tone, crossing her arms. I did not mean my question to come across as condescending, so I elaborate “No, no, I’m not doubting you. But those are a lot of categories for a gian- I mean, for a single person to cover…that’s just a lot to know.” I was hoping I did better at explaining myself as I watched her roll her eyes “Don't worry about me, I paid attention in school. Just worry about answering the sports questions, maybe a movie question or two & I’ll handle the rest.” She said pretty concretely, so I gave a nod. It’s not like I had much of a chance in any of the other categories, so if she felt she could do it, I was inclined to believe her. 

Although I still had my doubts, that $125 was a tempting prize to at least try for. “Alright, if you think you got this, I will meet you in the Common Area 10-minutes before 6:00pm.” Vi’s smile returned “I’ll go sign us up!” She says pushing off the floor to stand once again, which made my stomach do flips as her staggering stature once again felt like it was invading my personal space. I backed up as her footsteps were shaking the floor beneath me, but  in a moment she was already up & turned around, walking to her kitchen where her phone was. Immediately Vi was texting the Event Supervisor, entering our names into the contest. I caught my breath from the sudden jump Vi made to stand again and took that opportunity as my cue to leave. Closing the door behind me, I was suddenly no longer interested in playing my video game. Now I had the urge to brush up on my sports history & stats. I pull out my phone and begin prepping. 

Football, basketball, baseball, soccer & hockey were all I consumed for the next 3 days. I started feeling really confident in my skills as I brushed up on my sports history & caught up on recent sport developments, wins, losses & trades. By the time Monday rolled around, I had eaten and breathed nothing but sports, I felt ready to win the $125. As I got ready, I thought about my concern over Vi’s confidence in the other categories. Giants weren’t known for being very brainy or overall the kind of people to value high intellect. Often using their size, brute strength and senses to survive the world, they aren’t known for holding scholarly positions throughout history. Knowing what I learned in school about giants, the main jobs available throughout history were very laborious and required enormous amounts of strength. While giants worked in fields & built structures, Humans were the ones inventing technology, advancing medicines and developing modern conveniences. Giants were tasked with the harvesting of crops, wrangling animals, construction, lumber harvesting, landscaping & things that weren’t entirely easy for Humans to complete at our size. In the recent century, giant schools and education programs had become more popular & eventually became the standard requirement for giant children, just as it has been for Human children for many years leading up to that. From what I have seen in the media & heard when discussing the topic, the curriculums being taught in giant schools have remained rudimentary & are less challenging than that of a Human school’s curriculum. Considering many giants end up as laborers anyways, it made sense to keep things simple & stick to basics. 

I still had my doubts about Vi’s ability to win us the $250, but what else am I going to do on a Monday night? Looking at my phone, I saw it was 5:40pm, I had to be at the Common Area in 10 minutes. I grabbed my apartment keys, phone & wallet just in case, and began making my way towards the Trivia Night. I saw a few other Humans, a couple who lived together in the apartment, making their way down to the Common Room as well, undoubtedly going to Trivia Night as well. It would have been nice to have a Human roommate to do a Trivia Night with, would make collaborating a hell of a lot easier. I approach the doorway that leads onto a large balcony that resides in a much larger Common Room area that could host a few dozen giants at a time. The human platform had smaller cat-walk trails branching off of it, which allowed access to the tables where some giants were already sitting. I could see Vi at one of the tables, on her phone, probably brushing up on her facts & trivia. As I walked towards our table, I noticed there was a button for her & a smaller button for me on a human size table that sat on top of the giant table. I was surprised by the setup. It seemed like a lot of effort went into it by the Apartment Staff “This feels like some kind of game show” I thought to myself, as I saw the projector display some cheesy graphics about the approaching trivia contest. “Welcome to Hedge Heights Trivia Night!” The graphic said, with some clip art of a game show wheel & a crowd of people cheering in the background. I rolled my eyes and descended to where our table was, Vi’s eyes landing on me once I reached the stairs. “Hey! Glad you made it.” She greets me with a warm smile. “Are you ready to win this?” she asked me with a cheery attitude. I chuckled, both because she seemed very excited and, in a really weird way, it was cute to see. But also because I was not overly hopeful that we would win. 

Once I reached the table, I stood in front of Vi, who was seated at the table, next to her button. “As ready as I ever could be! I have been doing nothing but researching, memorizing & tracking everything sports the last few days. I feel like my brain is going to explode!” I joked. Vi nodded “I feel the same way. I’ve been brushing up on all my topics too. I’ve done nothing but prepare for Trivia Night. Shoot, I am still preparing” as she wiggles her phone in the air. I was right, she was still studying. I was impressed with her tenacity, though. “Just remember Vi, don’t put too much pressure on yourself. If we don’t win, it’s not your fault. There is always next time” I tried to reassure. Vi scoffed & smiled “That’s loser talk, Cain! This is the winner’s table, I won’t have any of that here!” That got a smile from me “Alright alright” I yielded with my hands up in a surrender “No more ‘loser talk’ from me, then!” I say taking my seat, but not before being stopped by Vi’s approaching fist. 

Out of pure instinct, I turn away, lowering myself to be on my knees in a ball & cower, covering my head and body from the impending strike I feel is coming. From above me I heard Vi say with a panicked voice “Oh shit, Cain, no, I was just trying to give you a fist bump!” She pulled her hand away quickly, I could see the shadow of her hand retract, as I keep my eyes cast downward, still in my ball. I wait a few moments before uncurling myself from my tense position and catch my breath. I thought for a moment she was going to crush me, my whole life flashed before me in the moment I thought I was going to die. I couldn’t look up at her right away, I was just making sure to ground myself before standing, feeling slight embarrassment at the misunderstanding and my extreme reaction. As I sat on my hands and knees, I felt an incredibly light & gentle weight on my back. I thought maybe another Human saw this and came rushing over to see if I was okay. I looked up finally & over my shoulder to see it was not another Human, but Vi’s finger gently patting my back, her face lowered further than it naturally would be. I made eye contact with her the moment I realized it was she who was trying to comfort me. Her touch was a lot softer than I anticipated. When I realized it was her finger, I felt goosebumps run up my back as she stroked it. With a low voice she says “I’m so sorry if I scared you. Are you alright?” she asked as if I were some wounded animal. I quickly try to right myself again, clearing my throat and pushing my hair from my face. With wobbly knees I stood & her hand stayed close to me, which was not entirely helping my composure. “I-I’m good. Sorry, I thought…I don’t know what I thought…” I did not want to admit I thought she was going to crush me at that moment, but I could see it on her face that she already knew. “I’m okay though..” I assure, hoping to just forget my overreaction and sit down. “Cain?” I hear her ask above me. I turn to look at her before sitting “Just want you to know I would never intentionally hurt you, okay? I get it, though. You have to protect yourself, but just know you’re safe around me.” I just stared at her as she said this, processing what she was telling me. “I figured I would clear the air before Trivia Night started…” I could tell she was feeling guilty for having scared me, it was like a billboard plastered all over her face. Her words brought a level of relief I did not know I needed. “Thanks Vi. I appreciate that.” Was all I could muster as I sat down. Just as I did, a giant man, the Event Host, approached the stage with a remote in one hand and a clipboard in the other “Welcome to Trivia Night Hedge Heights residents! I am Don, the Event Coordinator & I will be your Game Host this evening!”

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