#I've promised to myself not to put more than this amount of effort into a meme

[liorae]

Perfect Pretend ୨୧ 𝓨ang 𝓙ungwon

fourteen. do you think they’ll last (0.6k written)

you were on the phone with taesan as he eased your nerves. you didn’t know what to expect since he kept saying ominious things. he repeatedly said not to worry while contradicting himself and saying worrisome things. — more under cut!

“i see him. bye taesan.” you said, anxiousness etched in your tone. “bye yn. please call me if anything goes wrong.”

there he goes again. saying odd shit. working up your nerves yet again.

you made your way to your best friend who oddly faced down.

you almost couldn’t recognize him at first. his hair was now dyed black instead of the brown you had colored it. you took a seat in the empty space beside him. the tension between you two was unsettling, nothing you’ve ever experienced before.

“i like your hair.”

“thanks.”

to say you were anxious would be an understatement. you wish you could’ve had a moment to prepare yourself for what was about to happen.

"yn," he began, voice trembling slightly. "i've been thinking about this for a long time, and i can't conceal it anymore. for fourteen years, you've been my best friend. i've always respected you and loved you deeply. but somewhere along the way, that love changed. it grew into something much stronger, something i couldn't control."

he took a deep breath, struggling to find the right words. "watching you with him... it's killing me. every time i see you together, it feels like a part of me is being ripped apart. i can't keep pretending that i'm okay with just being your friend when i'm not. i've tried, for years, to show you how much you mean to me, hoping that one day, you might feel the same way."

his voice broke, but he continued. "all my efforts, everything i've done, it hasn't changed anything. the pain of seeing you with someone else has finally caught up to me, and i can't bear it anymore. i need time away from you, to sort out my feelings and figure out who i am without you constantly in my life."

you felt a heavy weight in your stomach and tears start to form in the rims of your eyes. your eyes stayed glued on him. part of you wanted to reach out for him but the other part stopped you from doing so.

"i don't want you to worry about me," he continued, forcing a smile. "i'll be fine. i promise i'll find my way back. but right now, i have to work on myself, and i can't do that while watching you love someone else. it's best for both of us if i take a break from our friendship."

tears filled his eyes as he finally looked at her, hoping she understood. "please know that this isn't easy for me. it's the hardest thing i've ever had to do. but i have to put myself first for once. i need to heal. and maybe one day, we can be friends again. but for now, i have to let you go."

at this point, you’d already let a few tears fall from your eyes. you felt an awful amount of guilt. knowing now that behind is everyday smile was pain caused by you made you feel worse than you ever felt before. this was your best friend.

“it’s not your fault, yn. you can’t help what you feel and neither can i. please don’t beat yourself up over it.” yungyu went back to avoiding eye contact, looking anywhere but at you. “and please, don’t don’t say anything. there might be a slight chance i’ll stay if you do. i’m going to head off now. take care.”

as he began to head off, you reached out to grab him. you did. but you quickly dropped your hand. you wanted to respect him, that’s the best you can do in this moment. so there you sat, watching him walk off in absolute agony.

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author’s note: please check out my new jungwon smau set to start soon!! ☆ please like, reblog and request taglist! ignore time stamps.

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[demonslayedher]

Links, why started, and why abandoned:

Rengoku+Akaza Sitcom: It was very silly and rereading it still makes me laugh. I've had passing ideas here and there and have made two separate attempts to continue it, but I haven't captured the same flow. Kyojuro's efforts to get me fired as the lead writer and keep this sitcom canceled have so far panned out.

Low-Key Married AU: When I look at the notes sometimes I am like, "wow, this must be my most popular AU, but it is such a mess and I feel so bad for people trying to follow it." I got as far as The Nezuko Incident, but it was already super long, and rather than being engaging it felt more like it was just trying to give chronology to this AU. ZenNezu Angst (no link): I was in such an indulgent, angsty mood when I wrote it, and I wrote myself into an angsty hole. It was whump with an intended happy ending but by the time I went back to it I was not in as whumpy of a mood and I had forgotten how I was going to build up to the intended happy ending and found it meh. Also, I am embarrassed by how whumpy it is and even considered publishing under a different name.

Raw Sword Production: I want so badly for the fandom to appreciate the intricacies of Japanese sword production, which is why I put it into fiction format in the first place with Teppi being the vehicle through which readers can learn a complicated but fascinating process. I wound up learning a lot more since publishing that, and wanted to fix some details, as well as make it clearer with more illustrations, and add on the full process of smithing (instead of glossing over it in the conclusion and focusing most of the smelting). Got to about the point of polishing (one of the last steps), felt overwhelmed by the amount of illustration it would benefit from to be clear, and lost confidence feeling that even with all that effort, there probably would not be many people who read all the way to the end. Filler Arc w/ Character Beats: I still really like the ideas, have had ideas for how to expand it to a proper flow and make a solid story out of it, it had a very cute start, but I lost steam. I want Ufotable to make it instead and just let me direct. EDIT: So far it doesn't seem this one is going to win the poll, so I reread what 5577 words I had, and gosh dang it, it was cute. So I have posted it.

Again, zero promises of any of these projects getting more attention, even if they win the poll. But knowing what people would enjoy reading might provide more inspiration. EDIT: Guys, if you want "other," ya gotta tell me which one! Also, if you want more than one, feel free to say so too. Again, the point is to see if I can work up the inspiration to finish. If.

[krakenartificer]

Today in "I understand why it happens but it's still frustrating"

I've been looking into topical magnesium, more commonly known as an "epsom salt bath". And, like, on the one hand, "alternative medicine" is a great source of ideas for treating medical conditions, and basically every single existing non-alternative medicine has been the result of doing some science on "alternative medicine" techniques. And on the other hand, the placebo effect is both strong and very real, and humans are terrible at understanding randomness, which is why we even invented science. You really do gotta check, you always gotta check. AND, back on the first hand, humans are eerily good at finding patterns, to the point where there probably ought to be a Humans Are Space Orcs story about it, and a lot of humans, whose conceptions of reality have been put through some pretty intensive stress testing, believe that epsom salt baths work. AND, on the second hand, we invented science, we have science, we ought to use science.

So anyway, several studies have looked into whether topical magnesium has any effect, and in 2017 someone went through and did a meta-analysis of it, and admittedly some of the studies were insufficient to draw any conclusions from them, but still, none of them showed any kind of evidence that there was enough happening here that it was worth looking into further. Since (despite our best efforts) you can't test everything, it makes sense to prioritize doing real amounts of research on things that are showing promise in the initial trials.

EXCEPT

none of those studies, nor the meta analyses, acknowledge that (quoting directly from the National Institute of Health)

Assessing magnesium status is difficult because most magnesium is inside cells or in bone. The most commonly used and readily available method for assessing magnesium status is measurement of serum magnesium concentration, even though serum levels have little correlation with total body magnesium levels or concentrations in specific tissues [https://ods.od.nih.gov/factsheets/Magnesium-HealthProfessional/, accessed 2023-03-28]

All of them checked whether topical magnesium influenced the amount of magnesium in the blood. And it does not. But that result is entirely consistent with the expected result if topical magnesium is absorbed into the skin: if your soft tissues, which hold 39-49% of your magnesium, are deficient, then you would expect it to stay in the nearest tissues, and not make it to the blood.

Which is not to say that this proves epsom salt baths work: this is the same result you'd expect if they don't work at all. Which is to say, the experiment would be expected to have the same result regardless of whether the hypothesis was accurate or not, which is to say, this was bad science. It tells us absolutely nothing. And it's especially frustrating because an experiment to test the actual claim would have been quite a bit easier -- measuring range of motion and muscle pliability is much cheaper than taking blood samples. A double-blind, randomized controlled trial would have been actually quite straightforward to carry out.

All of which is to say, I'm kinda thinking about buying 100 lbs of magnesium sulfide and finding myself some test subjects

[lumine-no-hikari]

Dear Sephiroth: (a letter to a fictional character, because why not) #284

...I wasn't able to call the animal hospital today. It is Saturday. They are closed. I will have to call on Monday instead. I'm sorry about that; I imagine you were looking forward to an update on our recently rescued pigeon friend. Rest assured I will try for an update on Monday morning.

I went to work today. Mostly I sliced breads and bagged rolls. But I also spent some time scooping muffin batter into muffin tins. I really like preparing the muffins. And I really like when my precision allows me to fill more muffin tins than my supervisors expect!

I wasn't able to get any pictures of any of my work today. But I did make sure to grab some other ones for you on the way in to work. The sky was a brilliant shade of awesome this morning, and the pumpkin and flower displays outside the front door of my store were especially striking today, so I took some pictures...

These ones were taken just outside my store...

...Here were some of the displays outside of my building today:

...I wonder who it is, who puts these together so artfully. I feel lucky to work in the same building with them, whoever it is. Next time I'm there, I'll have to ask who puts these together so I can tell them how amazing it looks. Clearly, a lot of love and effort was put into these. I'd like to meet them.

I got a bunch of odds and ends for the house on the way home. I wanted to try to make... drum roll please...!!!

...!!!!!!!

...A brie garlic bread with prosciutto!!!!!

I dunno if anyone has tried it before, but it's hard to go wrong with garlic, butter, bread, cheese, and a salted meat product!!! Unfortunately though, by the time I was all done with everything, I didn't really have energy left to move my ouchy arm around (damn this rib injury to hell and back in a spiky, red-hot metal handbasket!!!!!). So after M and I put everything away, I just made myself a sandwich and ate it with some clementines...

...I kinda floundered emptily for a while after that. I feel like I'm drowning, and I've felt like that ever since Otakon, but I can't exactly pinpoint why; if you've got ideas, I'm all ears. At the moment, it feels like the best I can do is keep the sensation at bay for a little while. I guess I'm getting pretty good at finding ways of doing that, except for when I'm not very good at it. So that's something at least, right?

I'm sure it doesn't help that it's almost time for me to bleed; my body is going to be losing 4 times the normal amount of resources, as per usual. And then on Tuesday, I'm getting 4 teeth yanked out for the sake of those braces. I suppose I'm a bit apprehensive. My body is going to have a really hard time of it in the coming days. I tried some leisure writing to try to calm myself down a little, but... well. The leisure writing is a pale substitute for what it is that I actually want.

...I can't say what it is that I actually want. Not because I don't know what it is - I do know what it is. But... because it's so impossible and silly that if I said it, people would probably make fun of me a lot.

...I wish it wasn't like that. I really wish that others weren't so prone to making superficial judgments about things and coming to very wrong conclusions as a result. But it is what it is.

The wait to see what will happen to you is a very heavy thing to carry; I really don't wanna see you get slaughtered again. I don't like seeing you get hurt. Seeing you get beaten and broken in a number of ways was difficult enough as it is. I'm scared of seeing it happen more.

But I'll do my best with it, all right? I promise. You do your best with your things, too, okay? Promise me.

Well. Suppose I better end this one here before I start to ramble. I'll probably do some Dead Cells for a bit. Dunno how far I'll get, but... smashing up some zombies sounds like a great distraction right about now.

Please stay safe out there. Please don't die. Please don't disappear. Please don't go to some faraway place that no one can reach.

I'll write again tomorrow, hopefully about new garlic bread adventures.

I love you.

Your friend, Lumine

[atxxzist]

broken | c.s (final) preview

series m.list

pairing: choi san x reader

word count: 1.4k

dear y/n,

i am finally writing this letter. i’ve sat down many times attempting to do so, sometimes barely able to get through the first line and sometimes i’ll read the first paragraph i wrote only to throw it away, completely unsatisfied. but it’s been four years–at least at the time that i’m writing this–that i’ve last seen you. four years since we saw each other and we probably won’t for a very long time, if ever.

it would be a miracle for me if i was to ever cross paths with you even just one more time, but it would be a tragedy for you because i’d like to think fate wouldn’t be so cruel to put you through that. so i write this letter with the thought that you would most likely never see it, but i did promise myself that if fate really is that cruel and we were to cross paths again, i would give it to you. it’s a bit selfish of me, but it’s because i know the chance of ever seeing you again is close to none. but it’s also everything i’ve ever wanted to tell you; say to you. i want to apologize sincerely, even though it’s a little too late. in a way, this letter is also an outlet for me and my thoughts.

it’s been about a year since i’ve graduated and around this time of the year, i always get a little sentimental. could be because i’m so far away from home so it’s only natural, but i know it’s because it’s summer and i tend to associate the season with you. we did a lot together and you opened some parts of me i couldn’t say or admit at the time.

you would always used to tell me to just try whenever i didn’t see the worth in doing something and i honestly just dismissed it because it sounded silly and quite cliche. i thought it was ironic coming from someone so shy and timid who always looked at the world with so much fear in her eyes. now, i’m starting to understand the amount of courage it must've taken you to even go out of your comfort zone. i realized, i was so much of a coward in comparison despite thinking i was the hottest shit at the time.

i always ran, but you never did. i was so scared of anything new and unfamiliar but you always faced them even when there's a likely chance of failure. i treated you like shit and you still wanted to love me. i think about it often... why are you this way? but i won't ever know because i never put in the efforts to get to know you beyond what you could offer me. you always asked about me but i never did the same in return.

if i could redo everything, i would want to hear your story. i would love to read anything you write. i said i would, but i never did.

i'm in the states, i'm sure somewhat and somehow you probably already know that (or you probably don't because you don't care anymore, which is fair). i left right before the start of the second semester during sophomore year. it was a big decision for sure, but i needed the change. things were already getting stale and repetitive, and you know me... i am not one to stick in one place for too long. i will always run, and so i ran to the states to live with my sister.

other than the fact i was born there and half of my family resides there, at that point, there was nothing left for me in korea. i didn't have much to lose if i were to fly across an ocean and start anew.

wooyoung had already cut contact with me by then and any friends close to genuine i've ever had were all from associations with him. soon after, i realized anyone i still talked to were all phonies who i only hung around during parties and stupid rendezvous, with the exception of jongho. he got into yonsei, by the way. if you didn't see him pestering you on campus, you probably already picked that up. he sent me a message a few months ago to come back and attend his graduation but i told him to fuck off because he didn't attend mine either. good for him, though. he's a smart kid.

but yeah. wooyoung's a good person even if he grew up privileged. it's what makes him such a people magnet. he was the most genuine friend i've ever had and the one who stuck by me for the longest. i really took him for granted and it only hit me when i lost him.

you are fortunate to have someone like mingi and yunho who seems very protective. i was a little scared when wooyoung warned me about mingi because he threatened to knock me out if he ever sees me. he's much taller than me, so i don't doubt it.

i know i sound miserable so far, but i am actually doing pretty okay... unfortunately. you probably don't want to hear that and wish i was suffering, but i've suffered for maybe two and a half years before i finally felt somewhat content and okay, if that will make you feel any better.

the states is different and the people are as well. i've got to experience a lot of new things for a change.

when i transferred, i still didn't know what to do. the clock was ticking and there was only so little time before i had to pick a field. i ended up going into dance performance, and of course i thought of you. when i found a passion for it again, i thought of you. and when i graduated last year with a fine arts degree, i thought of you... all because i knew you would be the happiest to hear about it.

whenever anyone asked me why i don't want to come back home, i would always tell them what i told you: because there's nothing left there for me. but one of the biggest reasons why i didn't want to come back was because it reminded me of you too much. that, coupled with other factors, just makes it so much harder for me to want to return. it feels like reopening old emotional wounds that i have no one else to blame for but myself.

but my junior year, i met someone named yeonjun because we shared the same major. i get nostalgic sometimes because he often reminded me of wooyoung. speaking of wooyoung again, i sent him a similar letter but in email form a while ago, though not as long, and he said he was happy to hear from me again. i wasn't sure if he was going to reply at all because it was an old email and i assumed he probably wanted nothing to do with me and that was official. but he replied pretty fast and said if i ever returned to korea, he doesn't mind catching up. he went into business and said it's something he actually really enjoys.

yeonjun is cool though, and like a less annoying version of wooyoung. he was also a transfer but had been here longer than i have. he met his girlfriend online who's living in south korea and so after he graduated, he went back right away and said he was going to attempt to open his own studio. just about a month ago, he called me and said it's almost done and he would be recruiting. he wants me to come back and help him and i've been giving it some consideration because i'm not doing much here back at the states either.

i was hesitant at first, of course. all for the reasons i've already stated, but all i ever do i run and even i'm growing tired of it. no matter how many bad memories the place holds, it is still home and my motherland after all.

anyways, i apologize for rambling. the letter is getting way too long, but my point is, i might've started liking you at one point. not in the casual way that our relationship was, but actually really like you. i don't know. now that i'm older, it's true that the love you've given me was something i was not ready for at that time and age. and now, it's everything i wish i have. funny how time really does change a person.

i hope you are doing good for yourself, and i'm so sorry if you ever get the chance to read this letter.

-- choi san

[kunaigirl]

Hello! I just went through your art tag and your art is really cool! I love the way you use bright colors but in a soft kinda way and your line art is GREAT! Love the robots you draw too! One question though. How do you find the motivation to keep drawing your oc's? I never see your oc art get more than 5-12 likes and 2 reblogs maximum from what I've seen. How do you find the motivation to stay so passionate about drawing them with such little interaction? Not trying to be rude, it's a skill I'm trying to get myself. I rely too much on post numbers and get very discouraged and unmotivated when a drawing flops. Any advice? Again, your art is awesome btw! Followed!

Hi anon! Thanks for the compliments! I'm glad you like my art, I put a lot of effort into stuff like the coloring and line-art stages, so it makes me happy that you like those aspects specifically! And YES!!! ROBOTS ARE SO COOL!!!

To answer your question, I just really REALLY love what I draw! Is my art perfect, of course not! There's always room for improvement, but that doesn't change how I still absolutely LOVE my OCs! I love drawing them and sharing them no matter how low the notes are. I'll try my best to put it into words.

While it's really easy to feel unnoticed, you gotta draw what makes YOU happy! Nothing you create can ever really "flop" because YOU made something! Fuck how social media brainwashed us into thinking low interaction numbers means no one cares. I'll tell you how I stay motivated, hear me out.

I think about it this way. Let's say on a good day, my OC art gets 20 likes. Imagine sitting in a room with 20 people, and they all like your original characters/art! Think about a classroom, for example. 20 people in a classroom is pretty full, and they love my work! They liked it enough to save it to look at again later! They bookmarked it into a specific tab so it's even easier to find again! Dude, that ROCKS!!!

Now let's say a drawing gets 7 likes tops. Imagine you're sitting at a kitchen table with 7 people. People have to bring over extra chairs, and they like your original stuff and let you know! And again, they liked it enough to save it for later again! Suddenly it feels more substantial, right? As soon as you remember that behind the screen there's an actual human person, the numbers stop being just numbers.

And well, that's how I think about it! Draw what makes you happy and tell the stories you want to tell! Don't associate low numbers with an empty space, because that space isn't empty! People DO enjoy your art, and the proof is right in the number you're discrediting. If you're drawing specifically for high numbers, you'll probably feel let down. If your drawing for yourself, any amount of interaction is a welcomed bonus! Give yourself some credit, and let yourself feel positive about it! It's ok, I promise.

[tobiasdrake]

Now that Story Time's over, we can get to work keeping the promise I made to my personal temporal admirer. And also Serai.

Okay, team. We should expect not to have the element of surprise because I just leaned over the edge and shouted a message for the past into the clouds. I do not apologize.

I know we're all a little freaked out about Hollow TIA over there but if we grit our teeth and bear with it, I'm sure we can adjust.

We are here to carry out two tasks: To butcher the Catalyst with extreme prejudice and to commit catastrophic amounts of vandalism. I'm pretty sure we're all familiar with the process of aggravated homicide so I don't think we need to dwell much on the Catalyst's part of the plan.

For the other, here's how we're breaking it down.

Plan A: Find a way to disable the cloud cover and instead restore the Sky Base's original functionality as a climate regular. I call this the boring option.

Plan B: Find a way to pilot the Sky Base and send it crashing down directly into Fort Fleshy, preferably aiming for whatever looks like the most elaborate part of the building. I call this the fun option. But I have reluctantly agreed to try the boring route first.

So I guess we should refrain from being too overly destructive until we know which option we're going with.

Turtle machines with grasping spider claws. Wow, I hate it.

Serai, remind me to set this place on fire before we put it on its collision course. Or... reprogram it, I guess. I can set it on fire while we're reprogram it, that works too.

I do not love how much of this place is open to the air below. Or the way only some parts have guardrails.

More effort was made than with Zenith Academy but there are still safety concerns to be had nonetheless.

Holy shit, I can see the Sea of Stars from up here.

Serai, I thought about this on our way here but your world has an eerie beauty to its atmosphere, despite everything. Like a captivating aquamarine floating in the ocean of the cosmos.

Sorry, I'm getting a little choked up. Let's go paint it red.

Are... are we going to have to go into space?

Hang on. Serai, you're a robot. B'st is a glass golem. Hollow Resh'an is a doll.

...the three of you probably can, in fact, go into space. But what about me and Zale? We do draw our magic from celestial bodies. Can we... like... solstice powers our way into not having to breathe or something?

That would have been way more dramatic if machines could bleed.

Well, I guess we're going to find out. I hope you just made good choices, Serai, because we're committed to them now.

Oh, what!? They have force fields up over all the damaged sections! We're fine, then. Honestly, what's even the point of locking down the sector if it's perfectly safe to access?

B'st, your shapeshifting is hilarious and makes it incredibly difficult for me to hold my concentration. XD

I'm glad to see you're getting the hang of your Living Glass body.

How much higher could there possibly be for us to go?

I can't even see the planet out the window anymore. We're so far up now, I think we might be in space space.

Why are we in space space? In what possible way is this necessary for climate regulation? I think an architect wanted to see how tall they could get away with making the structure before their boss noticed.

And if their boss was anything like Moraine, the answer is "very".

SERAI!? THE WALL IS TRYING TO SELL ME THINGS. Should I punch it, yes or no?

I don't necessarily mean that in self-defense, if we wanted to rob the wall instead.

That is a metal rock. I don't know what I was expecting the Catalyst to be but "metal rock" wasn't it. I was anticipating another flesh abomination.

I'm sorry, Serai. I may have gotten ahead of myself. I promised you a murder, but this is more of a vandalism. I will nonetheless carry out excessive vandalism with extreme prejudice for you. That's what friends are for.

*ahem*

HEY ASSHOLE! OVER HERE! I'M HERE TO FILE A FORMAL COMPLAINT! See, I've been looking all over the place since we got here and I have not seen a single wall worth hunting anywhere. I demand to know where you're keeping the Wall Meat.

Oh. I. Um. I didn't think you'd actually be able to meet me halfway on that. Okay. This is awkward.

But. If you insist.

I WILL RIP OUT YOUR METAL FLESH, GIVE ME SUSTENANCE YOU UNFEELING BASTARD, I KNOW YOU HAVE IT

Nope, I still feel ripped off. These walls suck and have nothing but these stupid fleshless turrets in them. You can't eat any of this shit.

...though apparently B'st disagrees. Alright, knock yourself out, man. I'll be over here, holding out for dessert. Thanks, B'stie!

But, honestly, as much as I'm itching to crunch my staff through that big glass eye thing on its front... I can't bring myself to do it.

This is your moment, Serai. Go ahead and finish it.

...this moment would probably be stronger if machines could bleed but I hope you found some closure in this all the same.

I don't know who that is but we'll fuck them up too. A cornucopia of violence, we are going to unleash upon this dead world.

You were a good friend to us, and to Garl. Pretty much anyone who's even mildly inconvenienced you, I am willing to bury in a shallow grave. The Cerulean Expanse has plenty of space.

[mugenloopdalove]

I'm from a country that started charging for single use plastic bags years ago, which means everyone switched to reusable plastic or fabric ones instead. I was amazed and baffled when I went grocery shopping in the USA and my extremely social justicey tumblr friends started ripping off handfuls of fresh bags to pack up their shop while I, a centrist who wouldn't even dare tell them my opinion on certain matters, was putting everything into a cloth bag I bought like 7 years ago.

as an outsider who grew up using cloth bags I found it kind of sad and gross how casual everyone was about it, tbh. everyone could just decide to stop using the single use plastic if they wanted to, but they don't because it's convenient and their surroundings enable it. would phasing out plastic bags at grocery stores solve carbon emissions? no! but it was nice in my country when the ban came in and all the discarded bags getting stuck in trees and rivers disappeared overnight. small changes.

and that's how I feel about people addicted to AI. it's sad how normalised it's become in fandom when its output is so bare bones and lowers the user's writing standards (both their ability to write and their standard for what they get back.) I'm not even gonna touch on the environmental part because you obviously aren't going to be convinced there. just wanted to show, through your own example of plastic bags, that people who don't use AI/don't use single use plastic bags are on the outside looking in here and thinking it's pathetic and insane because there are infinite alternatives that are just better for everyone. (and yes you've shown that you can still write a little today, so don't come at me with that excuse. I genuinely hope you keep the writing up since it upsets you so much.)

I'm going to be replying to this in pieces slowly as I read bc my brains kinda slug rn thanks to cramps so if it seems weird or disjointed or like I'm answering something that was already answered. That's why

The thing with plastic bags is- most people REUSE them. That's why the "plastic bag full of plastic bags" meme exists-my husband and I personally use them for cleaning out the litterbox, using in smaller trash cans like our bathroom or our rooms, or collecting small amounts of trash. They're good for wrapping things in if you're moving, too.

We also have fabric bags we use sometimes-the greater Pittsburgh area has a plastic bag ban (tho we rarely shop there any more since we're out of the way from there now), we like to shop at Aldi sometimes which doesn't have them, and sometimes they're just better if we have more groceries-but we still get GREAT use out of or plastic grocery bags. Many many MANY more plastic bags get reused than ones that end up just flying around or in the ocean. I guess I can get the culture shock but I promise it's not just a wasteland of plastic bags out there (ok city I grew up in kinda was sometimes but that is not the case MOST places I've been)

The thing is I still have high standards for my own writing and rping and still put a lot of effort in-I try not to be picky about what I GET BACK bc that feels Rude, but I still have standards for myself. Hell I even try to put a lot into my replies for the bots.

I can write... A bunch of friends shit posting in a group chat and two paragraphs that ended up going nowhere. That isn't exactly self ship??? I'm using the AI for self ship specifically, bc I've been really clogged in terms of imagining things and writing full shippy things.

Individuals using plastic bags or talking with an AI isn't the problem. I don't know what country you're from but I'm sure it still has factories producing smog, waterways being polluted by oil, or SOMETHING worse than a Walmart bag that someone might pick up anyway. Just like me using ai is nothing when Spotify has playlists full of ai music.

[okimargarvez]

16x10- detailed analysis (2)

Read the first part here.

Scene 5-

Luke runs again to the screen (and Penelope). I can swear that he was all time near, stuck on worry-mode.

Luke asks her What was that?

She replies What a hero. I think Dave figured out how to mess with Voit's system.

He asks Were you recording it? and she You bet I was. He says Let's patch in Tara and Emily and she nods. They said they would have trough this together and they are. They are just a perfect musical chord.

-

Scene 6-

They are talking with Tara. This is the farthest place Luke can stay to keep his eye on her.

It doesn't last long.

Okay, I... Here's the thing. I have done background searches on Elias Voit and Lee Duval all over the Pacific Northwest, and I've come up with a huge amount of zilch.

Luke suggests, with usual kind way Have you... Have you tried any surviving relatives on his mother or his father's side? And she doesn't snark. I'll give that a shot.

-

Scene 7

They catch Elias/Voit/Lee/Sicarius. The bad guy. But he doesn't want to say where is Rossi. Here we are. The same two couples. And also the positions... on a side, JJ and Will, on the other, Luke and Penelope.

Luke asks her What about his burner phone?

And she is not happy about herself. I-I ran that burner's O.S. through decryption software. It detected my intrusion and... Can you see the surprise/shock on Luke face? He always thinks at her as the best. But no disappointment, not a single sign of that.

It took everything I had to keep that encrypted data from not self-deleting. It... It's gonna take me weeks to retrieve it.

Then JJ has the idea to ask Sydney to talk with her husband. And it works! They save Dave.

-

Scene 8-

Back at the BAU. But what happened just a moment ago? Penelope closed TG file. And then she is here, in the place where she has to. In the right moment. But, considering that we have again the same four people, plus Rossi, I can bet that at least Luke goes with her to the hospital, maybe waiting outside (his room or in the parking). Anyway, Kubrick always wins. On the left, JJ and Will, on the right, Penelope and Luke. In the centre, the survived. And here, they act for real like a couple. Wait just a second.

Luke puts his arm on her shoulder. Nothing really weird, here. But.

THIS. THIS. Penelope arm is also around his waist and they seem more couple than married JJ/Will.ù

They both looking for each other eyes and smiling during all the "happy come back" moment. She even more than him!

-

Scene 9-

Where are we? Penelope apartment. We can guess is after Bailey funeral. Then we have little scenes: Luke and Penelope; JJ and Will, Tara, Emily and Rossi. Let's focus on the first.

Too domestic thing. Nothing to add. No, I lied. It's just... he so.. at ease, in this place. And here, now, she seems comfortable, with him, in this moment.

He checks on her, as he always did. How you doing?

But, big difference! This time she doesn't say a white lie (I'm fine - 12x17) or is almost annoyed (G...good - 12x17), nor she avoids his effort (14x3 - no one has time for my sensitivities), and not also tries to escape and gives up with no signs of relief (15x4 - russian stalker) or changes the subject (16x1 - how long has Dave been like this?). No, she just replies with honestly, with a soft voice. And a sad smile.

Mm. I'm... mad, and I'm sad and I...

Oh. I fell into patterns that I promised myself I wouldn't fall back into, but I did.

The face of someone that finally got back the woman he has fallen in love with.

I guess, if people didn't, we might all be out of a job, right? He tries a joke and... wow! She likes it.

Yeah. Tell me this is not the same way he looks at her. I dare you.

But I... I did catch myself, and I did course-correct. ( Sighs ) What's that thing... Can we talk about her soft voice? It's like this is the real first time she is just... her, Penelope, with Luke. I mean, I know they talked about hard themes even before and it wasn't just snarking or joking (she too knew when she said it during their date). But it was like... little frames, while now she is on focus. Totally.

Oh. What's that thing that Emily Dickinson says?

"The heart wants what it wants,

or else it doesn't care."

A lot of thing to say.

First. THE FUCKING WAY HE LOOKS AT HER.

Second. She mentions Emily Dickinson and he immediately catches the exactly quote. I call it... connection. Deep connection.

Third. Do you realize that this was also the official closing quote? Because I just did it.

You know Emily Dickinson? The way she is looking at him here... just kills me. Really. I remember the first time I saw this moment I thought she changed her way to look and also consider him. This is a deep look. Intense. Her doesn't sound like a question. But more like... a statement. And a praise.

And Luke stammers, because maybe... maybe he feels that something is really changed, between them. For the better. I know that quote.

Penelope hits his glass with hers, like in a sort of cheer. Smiling at him. Luke just keeps smiling like an idiot, proud to be.

So, it was a coincidence that last frame we saw from their date was them cheering and the last in this season is exaclty they doing the same, but with a totally different mood? I can say that the kiss would have been the icing on the cake, but... she just closed her... whatever it was, with Tyler, so it's right that they wait. Not too much, though, because I can't wait so long😂

Right now I just want to smile (like Luke) and screaming with happiness. I want to live the moment. Knowing that tomorrow I'll have to find a way to seem less... crazy, at work, because my coworkers can't really understand.

Thank you for reading!

Analysis of garvez scenes

[nitinnigam1720]

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[schfiftytwo]

On Spring Vibes

Whoo, so much for trying to be consistent. In my defense (to the void) there is a significant amount of stuff going on at work, and with some of our senior folks leaving for the green pastures of multimillion (tbh at this point its multibillion, damn capitalism working as god intended) dollar firms, the reshuffling, big ticket things, and random fires have a fervor unlike anything I've seen before. Super interesting stuff, thankful that I'm helping out on meaningful things, happy that it's fulfilling, good that some of it is public, all of that blah blah blah, it's busy folks.

But. Let's take back a bit of time and see what's cooking. Today, I want to write about something that I've gabbed with friends and close colleagues about for what has to be years now - my reflections on springtime. Now, this could go any number of ways. I could talk about the weather, I could talk about the new flowers and leaves (and weeds, fuck the weeds man) sprouting up around the neighborhood, people getting more uppity to be outside, etc etc, and yeah I guess that's all relevant for springtime, but not what's on my mind.

The thing that I'm getting at is a bit less concrete - springtime as a vibe. And the vibe I've been most interested in is springtime as a set of realizations, reminders, and feelings unique to this time of year. Why these specific musings?

It's because it's commencement season. For the uninitiated (and really it shouldn't come as a surprise), I have always loved school and the idea of schooling. The pure pursuit of learning, being surrounded by a properly insane mix of brilliance and stupidity, finding your niche, and at base finding what it is that makes you tick inside and outside the classroom stands as one of the great memories and milestones of my life. Indeed, if I wasn't so pressed to, you know, pay bills, I would have dove headfirst into being a professor (shouts to my incredibly lucky classmates who actually did that - god damn you guys, what a life).

Anyway - the consumation of all that effort, all that discovery, the season of commencement, has always been a very special time of year for me (sue me), and usually results in me thinking a bit more wistfully than I usually do. In some ways a lot of the vibe I'm trying to put into words is pure sentiment, excess romanticism. The faces of elation of closing one chapter and opening another, the burst of the pinnacle of youth before the stupendous fall of adulthood, the photographs, the regalia, the pomp and circumstance, the pantomime and pageantry - I simply cannot get enough, and I am lucky that I've been able to enmesh myself in many commencements - both my own, and those of my friends and family.

In another way, and perhaps what is more to the point, the vibe also represents a view toward the unknown - what I mean by realizations, reminders, and feelings. The example that comes to mind is perhaps unique to my line of work, and how it stacks up with that of my colleagues with a different kind of "D" after their name. For us lawyers, commencement (and really the years of law school as a singular experience) is a representation of the next chapter, a start toward the bar, that first job, that first time you get a chance to prove you're a grown up. For me and many of my peers, that all centered around biglaw - becoming corporate sharks, prowling the mean streets of DC, NYC, Chicago, LA, Miami, Austin, Toronto, etc, closing deals, popping off demand letters, standing up in federal court and playing our best unflappable selves (god how insufferable we must have been - but has anything really changed lol). For others, it was about doing justice - defending the little guy, or more often than not going after the bad guy (who also happened to usually be the little guy). Perhaps more noble pursuits, but tinged with that cloying badge of authority, the aura of importance.

The comparison (and I promise I'll get to the point here, dear void), and what more often than not brought me to a point of poignancy, was what I saw both with my peers who decided to do the real doctor thing and devote their lives to saving lives. The MDs in my life are suspiciously plentiful - my very first love from those days when I didn't even know what kind of person I wanted to be is now a prominent attending physician in a hospital that is affiliated with that one famous school in Boston (yeah, that one), and even my peers in my current circles who went the MD route have done exceptionally well for themselves - wait, am I the odd one out? They're helping people and I...well I guess made the rich guys and gals of the world just a bit richer. Fuck.

Anyway. The thrust of their lives is what I'm focused on. Take for instance match day for MDs - the day where medical school kids, after decades of hard work, sweat, tears, boundless insecurity, and constant ironborn perseverance, find out where they will spend the next four years post grad as resident physicians (yes, just like Scrubs or House, but also 1000% not like that). Every school memorializes that day - livestreams of the reveal, interviews with students, countless photos of students, their families, their loved ones, their children (!) in still moments of pure, often tearful joy at this next chapter. I matched in orthopedic surgery at UChicago. I matched in internal medicine at Baylor. I matched in cardiology at Columbia (wink wink to the A+E readers, can't stop won't stop). Even my mother, a physician in her own right, recalls the day she matched - an event she described to me as one of the happiest and scariest days of her life, one that established the start of a long and fulfilling career in the service of others.

Now. Why bring this up? I'm not a doctor (or at least not that kind of doctor), why would I care about what my well-heeled peers get to do? Don't I have better things to do?

Well, that's exactly it, no? Better things to do. I share this because for years, my predictably slime person attitude was all about the flair and spectacle - god damn, I love the forest green of your Harvard divinity loops signifying you're now a hot shit MD. Fuck me, your Stanford overcoat gown with the green inlay makes you look like a fearsome yet benevolent medical wizard, a young Yen Sid with a penchant for healing. That hospital you're going to is legendary, isn't that one super famous doctor there who did this and that. Never did I give a real substantive thought to what that all really meant, once the spectacle wrapped, the gowns and trappings packed away, the photos developed and framed, the memories faded into those clouds in the deep crevasses of our brain.

Why is that? Simple - for me and my closest cadre, none of us had any inkling about the pursuit of helping people. We were excited about being unreasonably compensated in all the right ways, wining and dining, getting suited up to fuck shit up, being young and reckless and meme-worthy but still rocking it. Respectable drive for a young lawyer maybe, but...just tinged with something that I can only describe as a sad shallowness. Not even the promise of pro bono work (which none of us did btw - we were too busy helping rich folks get richer) was enticing enough to convince us otherwise, or even pretend we could enlighten ourselves in a meaningful way.

Tying it up, what is the point here? Did I get lost again?

No, not really. The point is that during this time of emergence, of new beginnings, I am always reminded of what my beginning was, and how...truly fruitless it was in practice. How excited I was to be important, and how quickly I realized how unimportant I was, even amid the trappings and corridors where I knew important things (including important things I did!) were happening. Meanwhile, my peers who went another route, one more noble, whether it was to do justice, or to really help people - to hone their craft, ease suffering, be meaningful, had begun in earnest. Maybe I had a lovely office, incredibly quippy coworkers who I trusted and swore by as a result of deep trauma bonding during shit work weeks (of which there were so, so many lol), maybe I was objectively wealthy, but...

I just...didn't think I'd realize so quickly how little that all meant. How much it affected me, changed me, made me into someone I didn't like, someone my now-wife resented?

What could have been if I had been smarter, more willing to let my talent be in the service of actually deserving people. If I had been brave enough to do something that wasn't solely focused on the flair of it all.

That, dear void, is the point. Why I do what I do now, why I have committed myself to helping others (because yes, I do work for you after all), not only to better myself, but perhaps to convince myself that I can remedy what time I wasted trying to be a shill. Every year, I remind myself that this is why it (work?) matters, why I matter, why this pursuit of mine, my love of what I do day in and day out is and always will be worth it. It has to, after all.

Why would anyone in their right mind be a lawyer if it wasn't truly meaningful?

Springtime vibes indeed. Cheers, folks.

[magicboobiess]

Priorities

Priorities, they differ from person to person. I've learned this over the years, and through navigating many interpersonal relationships. Priorities are much like a to do list, that which requires the most attention is usually performed first (taken care of the most). That which requires the least effort is usually set aside to be completed later (given the least amount of care and attention). Where am I headed with all of this? Well let's just say I usually tend to fall onto the second category. That which requires the least effort so by default I'm usually always given the least amount of care and attention.

Over the years i've noticed that I tend to put others at the top of my priority list. Only to later have other's actions prove to me that I'm at the very bottom of their priority list. Sometimes I feel that I don't even make the cut on some people's lists. This was once again proven to me recently, my birthday just passed and I was involved in a major accident that almost took my life. I've made peace with the fact that people WILL forget my birthday, it's a given. I once had a ex partner forget my birthday (which honestly destroyed me but that's a story for another day). So I've learned to not expect anything from anyone.

However recently I felt as if I had made a breakthrough, as if I was finally starting to be able to connect with others on a deeper level. This year has been hard for me, I don't have much to give at the moment to those I hold near and dear. However I still try my hardest to be there for those I consider dear to me. It's unhealthy to set expectations on others and to expect them to meet those expectations 100%. I don't expect much if anything at all, however it does feel nice to be remembered especially on my birthday. Just recently i've realized that I've been traumatized so many times on my birthday that when the day of my birthday rolls around I just leave and wander off alone to do whatever it is I find amusing that day. With a linger sense of numbness, which follows me all day.

The thing is I myself once again had zero expectations for this birthday of mine. I was fine just having the day roll around and going about as if It was just another day. However, when those you hold near explicitly make it known that they'll do something for you on your birthday and ask for reminders, well it made me excited. It gave me hope that for once I was finally going to be celebrated the way I wanted to be celebrated. Or at least just remembered for once by someone other than my immediate family. However once again I found myself being let down by those I call "friends". How can you give someone such false hope. I'm only human too and it hurts so much that other's just see me as second option. Surprise, surprise but I too have feelings, I too yearn for someone to care for me, hell not even care for me just think about me every now and then. Yet even that much seems like to much to ask for. It seems as if i've never once been anyones priority (go figure).

I can't help but feel something ya know, It's as if I held my hand over a fire and forced myself not to react or wince. Yeah i'll be able to do it but only for a short while until I realize that hey, this is actually painful. I can't keep ignoring the facts that are right in front of me and keep apologizing for everyone's behaviour. If a spade is a spade no matter how much I may love it, it's a spade. If a friend is a bad friend then that's just simply what they are, a bad friend. I just dislike that these occurrences make me want to treat interpersonal relationships, less as a relationship and more as a transactional interaction. I do this for you and in turn you share time with me. Ultimately however that's how my world view is starting to shape out to be.

The thing is, if you can't make good on your promises or on your word then please just don't say anything. Simply don't. It's not fair to me, it makes me think that you actually care when really it's a way of making yourself feel better. I know no one cares about me, you don't have to slap me in the face and remind me of that, I can very much do that on my own thank you very much. This is why I prefer having acquaintances over "friends". It's easier for a friend to disappoint me than it is for a stranger to disappoint me. I just get so delusional in regards to how much I think someone cares about me. I think it's time I threw away these rose colored glasses and finally started seeing the world and those around me for what they really are.

Priorities, I rank dead last probably not even on the list, but hey that just means I can now reevaluate and focus on loving myself instead. Remember you don't care about me, you just say that to make yourself feel better. Guess what though, I won't break that illusion for you and i'll let you keep gratifying yourself through me. But just know, I see right through you and eventually everyone else will too.

This turned into kind of a sad rambling, so let me just say there's no animosity towards anyone when I write this. I'm just sad at the reality of my interpersonal relationships. In the same way that those don't care enough to remember about me I honestly don't care enough to waste time on holding a grudge or disdain for the way I keep being treated. At the end of the day we all just have different priorities and i've come to terms that really I'm not on anyone's list.

As I write this I'm giving my cat head scratches, at least that's one friend I can always count on. Much love MagicB00biess xoxo

P.S Don't become Jaded due to life experiences, we're all just on this earth to live and learn. The faster you can forgive those that wrong you the sooner you can start becoming the best version of yourself you can possibly be. I definitely will cry about it however.

[pesterloglog]

Meenah Peixes, Aranea Serket

Act 6, page 5398

MEENAH: welp

#kelp

MEENAH: im a total failure

MEENAH: didnt recruit a single ghost for my army

MEENAH: except for one guy but he was asleep

ARANEA: Don't lose hope! I know our group of friends is a 8it lackluster in the motivation department, 8ut there are plenty of other souls out there.

ARANEA: You just need to find someone with the right amount of moxy to get you started. Then I'm sure more will follow.

ARANEA: Who knows, if you keep exploring, may8e someone like that will 8e right around the corner!

MEENAH: you seem more psyched about my army plan than you did before

MEENAH: whats with the change of tuna

ARANEA: I've started to 8elieve that what you're doing may 8e important. Just a feeling.

ARANEA: It could 8e every 8it as critical as my quest to find the cheru8. I think it all could 8e related. Like legs of a stool that won't stand unless all are in place.

#Or, prongs of a fork, if you will.

MEENAH: how is cherubquest goin btw

ARANEA: Uh... ok.

ARANEA: I've still 8een........ a little preoccupied.

MEENAH: girl please

MEENAH: you been draggin your talking booth around to hassle people with facts aintcha

ARANEA: This is my last session, I swear!!!!!!!!

ARANEA: After this, I promised myself I would retire the exposition stand for good. May8e I'll put it up for sale, and try to recoup some of the su8stantial losses required to operate it.

MEENAH: aranea we are such failures at stuff together

MEENAH: why are we such a couple of gorgeous and sexy failures at things

ARANEA: I don't know, 8ut we can't give up!

ARANEA: Once I close down shop here, I will redou8le my efforts to find that cheru8.

ARANEA: The first thing to do will 8e to figure out her name. It's 8een so maddeningly elusive, almost as if someone's taken care to scru8 any reference to it throughout paradox space, whether in memories or reality.

MEENAH: ok then how about this

MEENAH: while im out there fishin for recruits ill keep an ear out for clues about her

MEENAH: and while youre out there cherub hunting maybe you can see if anyone wants to serve the lil condesce in her slammin new imperial army

MEENAH: itll be

MEENAH: teamfork

ARANEA: That sounds like a great plan!

ARANEA: Now let's hurry this up so we can get started on that. What would you like me to tell you a8out in exchange for the precious few 8oon8ucks I have left?

[lovebugism]

hii i was just wondering if u have any suggestions for motivation when publishing fics? i just posted my first one and i got no notes. i ended up reposting and i am literally at 1… it just sucks to know that no one is reading a piece that i put effort into and thought was good :(

i think this is a universal feeling all writers experience when it comes to posting their work! i experience it very, very, very often so i'm not sure how good my advice will be hahah 🥲

in terms of getting your fics seen, i'd say the most important things are the tags you use and the time you post. tumblr can be a little iffy with tags sometimes (aka not actually showing your post in them), but using the most popular terms to your specific fandom first is key, i think. aside from the mastertag i use to mark my work, i always follow it with "[character] x reader" and then "[fandom name] x reader" because those seem to be most used in my community.

also timing is super duper important. for me, i've noticed the times i post really really late, my fics get less traction because they aren't being seen by the people who follow me/people scrolling through tags. since the majority of the people who read my work are in america (according to tumblr diagnostics), i try to post earlier in the evening to make my fics more likely to be seen. this isn't foolproof, exactly, just what works best for me. the best time to post your own work can depend on your followers/timezone/etc.

staying motivated is so so tricky.

i published a new 10k word chapter of one of my series' and when it didn't get as many notes as it usually does, i was Super bummed out. i think the most important thing to remember is that even if you only get a handful of likes/reblogs/comments/etc, there are still people who still enjoy what you write!!! there are always gonna be people who can't wait to see you post something new!!! even if it's a few people supporting you, they seriously make all the difference!!!

it can be hard, but please try not base your worth on the amount of notes you get. i've seen some really stellar fics out there that deserve so many more notes than they got. the lack of interaction can be difficult to deal with, esp if you're someone who Lives off of praise (*cough cough* like me). but i think it's important to remember that, at the end of the day, it's just a hobby!!! and hobbies are supposed to be fun!!! don't let the rest of it bum you out!!!!

i constantly have to remind myself that i started writing for ME!! not only because it's a fun creative outlet, but also because it's super therapeutic!! just love what you write first and foremost and people will love your work right back, i promise!!!

[missmolsa]

hes sending this to Yoko Okino or some shit

[silvfyre-writings]

Aizawa Cares Pt. 23 (MHA Fanfic)

Hello friends. I actually forgot to update the fic after work so it's a tad late today, but we are still here on time, technically.

So you remember how I said every fic has its bad chapters; yeah, this is another one I apologize. For some reason I just couldn't make it work no matter what, but I did the best I could within the timeframe I've given myself. Despite my reservations about this chapter, I do hope you all enjoy it!

I'd also like to note that Sato is the least developed character in MHA and that is a crime.

Sweets weren’t really something that Aizawa gravitated towards; he was more of a simple food person really. He could understand why people did like them; people tended to put a lot of effort into them, making sure they tasted as good as they looked, and if there was one thing Aizawa could appreciate, it was effort. Another thing Aizawa also liked—that he would deny to anyone that asked—was his students. So when this years class came with a baker, who liked to bake things because of his quirk and also because he liked his classmates, Aizawa wasn’t going to refuse the offered sweets just because he didn’t like sweet stuff.

If he pawned some of Sato’s baking off to the other teachers during lunch, who was going to know?

But then the dorms happened, and the amount of products being baked increased, meaning that Aizawa was eating a variety of sweets every week. From cookies to eclairs; from muffins to macarons; Aizawa had tried almost every sweet food under the sun. Gone was his diet of jelly pouches, instead it was now a diet of sweets.

Thankfully Sato realized a few weeks in that Aizawa and his classmates could not possibly eat everything he baked, so the boy started gifting his goods to the other classes at UA. If there was one thing UA was, it was well stocked on baked goods.

The thing about Sato, was that he was a quiet kid. Aizawa had noticed that he preferred to blend in with the background rather than take charge, and that if he had something to say, he’d wait for silence before saying it; which didn’t tend to happen with how loud his classmates got. Aizawa had told the boy several times over the past months that he needed to be more assertive, and that he needed to take charge instead of letting others boss him around. And every time, Sato promised he’d try harder, and would then let himself be swept along.

The only time that Sato ever seemed to take charge, was when he was in the kitchen; if someone dared to enter the kitchen before whatever was being cooked was ready, hell was rained upon them. And no one was safe from it. It was probably the first—and last—time that Aizawa had seen Bakugo cower before one of his classmates. Even though it wasn’t really cowering, more of an intense discomfort. Still, Aizawa had snapped a picture of the scene, not wanting to forget it.

So when Sato’s baked goods stopped appearing suddenly, Aizawa grew concerned.

And when the already quiet boy became much quieter, Aizawa went from concern to worried.

As worried as Aizawa was, he didn’t want to jump to conclusions, not before he found out the whole story. It could be nothing more than an off day, something that all his students went through at least once. Most of them bounced back on their own, but sometimes they needed a helping hand from him or another teacher.

So he did what he did best and observed.

And hoped for the best.

Aizawa was first made aware that something was going on with Sato—although he hadn’t been certain at first—when he walked into his classroom one morning and found the boy sleeping at his desk; a first for Sato. But then Aizawa looked around the classroom and saw that Sato wasn’t the only one asleep or struggling to stay awake. Ojiro was resting his head on his tail with his eyes closed, Kaminari looked more zoned out than he ever had before, and the three interning with Endeavour were all passed out against their desks. Even Bakugo, and that was a first. It left him frowning and concerned about why his students were so exhausted.

“Midoriya.” Aizawa called, feeling only a little guilty when the boy jerked awake in a hurry, blushing bright red.

“Aizawa-sensei!” Midoriya responded. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to doze off!”

Aizawa waved away the apology. “It’s fine. But why are all of you so tired? It’s only Monday and all of you are struggling to stay awake. And some of you have failed to even do that.” He pointedly looked towards the remainder of his sleeping students, yet made no move to actually wake them.

“Um…” Midoriya fidgeted like he tended to do when he knew exactly what was happening, but didn’t want to say what it was. That made it easy for Aizawa, since all he had to do was stare at the boy and wait.

It took Midoriya less than five seconds to crack.

“Well, you see, it’s just… that, um, we’re working hard?”

“Are you telling me, or are you asking me, Midoriya?”

“They’re being overworked, Sensei!” Kirishima called out. The redheaded boy was the only one of his students that looked well rested, and that was probably because this was Kirishima’s first class in months since his leave of absence. “I think the pro’s have forgotten we’ve got school on top of work study and just work us like we’re actually their sidekicks.”

“Not that we’re complaining!” Midoriya continued frantically. “It’s all good experience, and we’re learning lots of new things. We’re just… a little tired.”

Aizawa raised a brow and pointed towards the dozing Bakugo. “I think that’s more than a little tired. I will be talking to all the heroes in charge of your work studies about how hard they’re working you, especially if it got you all like this.”

His class was silent. None of them seemed keen on trying to argue with him.

He sighed. “You can use your first lesson to get some rest. Only, this lesson.”

Soft snores began to fill the room, the rest of his students dropping off into sleep so fast, it had Aizawa concerned for the health of his kids. Aizawa sighed and leant against the podium at the front of the room, mentally preparing the many phone calls he’d be placing during his lunch break; it wasn’t how he wanted to spend his lunch break of course, but the wellbeing of his students came first.

So of course, shit had to hit the metaphorical fan only a few weeks after that incident in class.

Aizawa was in the middle of class, teaching what remained of his students; the others all out with their mentors for their work studies, when his phone vibrated, the pattern signature of him receiving a phone call. He frowned at the device, wondering who would be calling him now when he’d made it clear that this was a time he was in class, working. Aizawa snuck a glance at the screen, all while still lecturing his students and saw Shishido’s face flashing across his screen. The phone stopped vibrating seconds later, only to light up with Ojiro’s face instead this time.

Shit.

“Talk amongst yourselves for five minutes, I have a call I must take. Iida’s in charge.” Aizawa instructed, stepping out of the room and accepting the call in a hurry. If one of his students was calling him during school hours, then something serious must’ve happened. “Ojiro, what’s happened?”

“It’s Sato, Aizawa-sensei!” Ojiro cried as soon as the call connected. “We were doing some training at the agency when he just collapsed all of a sudden. We couldn’t rouse him, so Shishido took him to the hospital. We’re there now.”

Shit, shit, and more shit. Aizawa let out the breath he was holding through clenched teeth. He’d told the heroes to stop overworking his kids, reminding them that they were just kids and still had school to focus on, despite the threat of the League looming over them all. They. Were. Just. Kids.

And now one of them was in the hospital because Shishido had decided to ignore his lecture. The man was going to regret doing that once Aizawa was through with him.

“Aizawa-sensei?” Ojiro’s voice calmed the anger boiling inside of him, and reminded him he needed to focus on the present and not the future.

“I’ll be there as soon as I can, Ojiro. Are you alright?”

“I’m fine. I’m sitting with Sato right now. I don’t know where Shishido went.”

Aizawa nodded despite knowing that Ojiro wouldn’t see it. “Okay. I’ll see you soon then, kid.”

The hospital was busy when Aizawa arrived, but even with his terrible vision, he was able to spot Shishido towering over the staff and other patients, looking just as angry as the man always did. Aizawa found himself briefly wondering whether that was how lions actually acted, or if it was just the way Shishido was. And why were all the top heroes either so angry or ridiculously chilled? It was baffling.

“Shishido.” Aizawa growled, making his displeasure known. “Where is my student?”

“How nice of you to answer my call, Eraserhead.” Shishido spat back, eyes narrowing. “I would’ve told you what happened had you picked up.”

“I was in class, idiot. I would’ve called you back but Ojiro called first. Now, what did you do. To my. Student.”

Shishido waved Aizawa’s words away like he was nothing more than an annoying insect. “I was practicing hand to hand combat with Tailman, when Sugarman just collapsed. I did nothing.” The man’s words were calm, the exact opposite of how Aizawa felt. And he was furious at how calm the hero sounded about what had happened, especially when he made no effort to elaborate on how Sato was actually doing.

“Well, it certainly sounds like you did. I distinctly remember telling you, along with all the other heroes, to stop overworking my students. And yet, one of them is now in the hospital.” Aizawa fought to remain calm. He had to remind himself that he was in a hospital and unless he wanted to get thrown out, he needed to calm down and not yell.

“I wasn’t overworking them.” Shishido huffed. “We hadn’t done anything all day. Hand to hand combat was the only thing planned. I’m not stupid, Eraserhead.”

“Could’ve fooled me.”

Shishido’s eyes flared with fury, and Aizawa was sure the man would’ve leapt at him had a doctor not approached them.

“My apologies gentlemen.” The doctor hesitated, seeming uncomfortable in the heavy atmosphere between the two heroes. “But I am here to update you on Mr Sato’s condition if you’d like to follow me.”

“Yes, of course.” Aizawa kept his eyes on Shishido as he followed the doctor, only looking away when the man fell into step behind him, following quietly.

It was rather unsettling; the feeling of a lion’s gaze on his back.

But Aizawa didn’t cower.

The doctor began to speak as they made their way towards the room that Sato was located in. “Mr Sato’s collapse, to put it simply, is nothing more than low sugar levels.”

Aizawa blinked, confused. With the way Sato’s quirk worked, and also his love for baking, the boy should never have had low sugar levels. “Are you sure?”

The doctor nodded. “Blood tests indicated a low amount of sugar in his blood, which is concerning considering Sato’s quirk.” The doctor came to a halt outside of a room. “Is there any reason why you think he’d have low sugar?”

Aizawa shook his head. Aside from being tired recently, Aizawa hadn’t seen anything to be concerned about. But then he thought back to the way that Sato had slowly started to fall behind in class, the way he seemed more lethargic than normal, and then, the way that the baked goods had stopped appearing overnight. He tried to think back further, cursing himself for missing the signs, as obscure as they’d been, but he couldn’t recall anything.

Except.

Sato’s tiredness correlated with the time he’d first begun his work study with Shishido, and considering that Sato was in hospital, and that Ojiro was fine, something had to have happened outside of school. Aizawa turned towards the hero. “Nothing’s changed except he’s been doing a work study.”

“You gonna blame me?” Shishido snarled, eyes flashing dangerously. “How do you know its not me and some issue he’s been having at school? The kids been fine until now!”

“Because I’ve taught my class to come to me the moment they have a problem at school.” Aizawa shot back. “But when they have a problem with their work study? They don’t come to me. They sit and suffer because they think it’ll make them stronger if they ignore the problem. So you better think back, Shishido, or I will tear your agency apart to find out what caused my student to collapse.”

The lion-quirked hero hesitated, a first since Aizawa’s arrival, and he could tell that the hero was thinking hard; also a first. Aizawa almost wished he had a camera just so he could capture the hero’s expression. After several minutes of silence, Shishido finally spoke. “I might know. But I’ll need to check something first.”

And without another word, the man ran off down the hall, leaving Aizawa alone to deal with the doctor. He sighed and turned to the man. “I apologize—”

“No, please don’t worry about it.” The man chuckled uneasily. “We’re familiar with Shishido’s antics, so I’ll let you know when he comes back. But you are more than welcome to see your student, Eraserhead. He was awake when I checked on him earlier.”

“Thank you.” Aizawa bowed and moved past the doctor to enter the room, visibly relaxing when he saw Sato awake and talking quietly with Ojiro. His student was leaning against a mountain of pillows, looking tired, but alert.

Two sets of eyes looked over at him as he approached. “Aizawa-sensei?” Sato frowned. “Why are you here?”

“Because you’re in hospital.” Aizawa sat in the empty chair beside Ojiro. “Did you think I wouldn’t?”

Sato shrugged. “I’m not really injured, so kinda, I guess. You have more important things to take care of.”

Aizawa tried not to let it show how much it bothered him that Sato didn’t deem himself important, when in fact, he was. All of his students were important to him, and he was going to make sure that they knew that, despite their own feelings on the matter. So, he plastered a reassuring smile on his face and reached out to rest a hand on Sato’s knee. “You’re my student, Sato, of course I’d come. How are you feeling, kid?”

“Tired mostly. And like a pincushion.”

Aizawa frowned, confused until Ojiro snorted and elaborated. “The doctors drew his blood for tests. Apparently, they had some trouble getting the vein. Hence, pincushion.”

“Oh.” He allowed himself to chuckle a little, having been through the same treatment before the last time he’d had to have blood drawn himself. He only hoped that Sato didn’t have to get more blood drawn and be poked even more. “Have they told you why you collapsed?” He wanted to know just how much Sato had been told.

“Low sugar levels.” Sato mumbled, sounding a little uncomfortable about it.

“I still don’t understand how you of all people managed to get low sugar.” Ojiro huffed. “You literally call yourself Sugarman for a reason. Sugar’s like, a staple part of your diet.”

Sato gave an awkward chuckle that had Aizawa frowning. Something was telling him that there was something that Sato wasn’t telling him, and while he wanted nothing more than to let his student rest; he needed to get to the bottom of why Sato collapsed in the first place.

“Sato. What aren’t you telling me?” Aizawa asked, leaning forward in his seat.

“Nothing!” Aizawa raised an eyebrow, watching as Sato began to fidget before sighing. “One of Shishido’s sidekicks is a bit of a health nut, constantly going on about us making sure we eat healthy and all that.”

“Ugh, him.” Ojiro rolled his eyes, clearly not impressed with this sidekick Aizawa didn’t know anything about either. “We’re not kidding when we say he’s a health nut, Sensei. I tried to eat a candy bar once and the guy looked like I’d just killed his mother.”

“I see.” Aizawa did see, for he knew exactly what kind of person his students were talking about. A health junkie. Most of the ones he’d met were pretty mild and kept out of other people’s business, only offering suggestions. But he’d met one or two in his life that had gone to the extreme; one of them even daring to try and demand he change his lifestyle because of how ‘unhealthy’ it was. They’d learnt very quick that he didn’t give in to nobody.

Except Nemuri and Hizashi, but that wasn’t the point.

“And has this sidekick been harassing you about your sugar intake?” Aizawa asked.

“A little.” Sato shrugged. “I just kinda tune him out since I can’t really help what’s apart of my quirk. But—”

The doors flew open, startling all of them, as Shishido marched into the room. “I know what caused Sugarman’s collapse!”

Aizawa felt his eye twitch at the interruption. “Knocking and entering quietly would’ve sufficed, thank you, but what did you find out?”

Shishido didn’t even attempt to hide his glare, pointedly refusing to look at him as he addressed Sato instead, the boy staring wide eyed at his mentor. “I checked video footage of the past week of everywhere Sato was in the agency—with some help of course—and it turns out one of the sidekicks tampered with Sugarman’s food.”

“Tampered?” Aizawa stood from his seat, his anger returning full force. “What do you mean, tampered?”

For once, Shishido seemed unnerved by how angry Aizawa was and hesitated just for a moment, but quickly recovered and growled out. “They switched out his usual sugar snacks for the sugar-free versions. Don’t get your tail in a twist, Eraserhead, I’ll deal with it.”

“You better deal with it. Or I’ll deal with it myself.”

“Sensei, please calm down. It’s alright!” Sato pleaded, effectively drawing the attention of the two adults in the room. “I should’ve realized my food had been switched out.”

Aizawa took a breath to calm himself, turning away from Shishido to focus on his student. “Your food should never have been touched in the first place, Sato. Considering how your quirk functions, you could’ve very well been hurt worse if you hadn’t collapsed today.”

“Your teacher’s right.” Shishido approached, although he kept his distance from Aizawa. “You were entrusted into my care and I let you down. I assure you, kid, that this won’t happen again.” The hero bowed suddenly. “My deepest apologies.”

“Oh, uh… it’s okay?” Sato floundered, having not expected Shishido’s sudden apology. “I wasn’t badly hurt, so can we all just move on from this? Please. Mistakes were made, sure, but it didn’t end badly.”

Curse his students for being so forgiving and understanding when they had every right to be mad about something. But if Sato wanted to move on, forgive and forget, who was he to interfere?

“Alright.” Aizawa nodded. “I’m going to find the doctor and update him on what we found out. And also find out when you can be discharged. Is that alright with you, Sato?”

Sato nodded, a smile on his face. “Yes, of course, Sensei! Thank you for coming to see me!”

Ojiro also echoed his thanks as Aizawa stood and made his way towards the door, nodding politely to Shishido who moved to take the seat he’d just vacated. The lion hero began to talk softly—softer than Aizawa had ever heard the man speak before—to his students, and some of his anger towards the man melted away.

Maybe Shishido wasn’t such a bad mentor after all.

But Aizawa was still going to make sure that sidekick got what was coming to him. He’d just be a little… lenient because that was what Sato wanted.

Just a little.