#JUST. COMMUNICATE. respond to my emails damn you

[bensiskos]

AUG

[alchemicalterror]

I'm going to be honest, I have no idea who you are, but you seem very nice! I saw that you're researching the human fear response- I'd love to hear more about your work if you have the chance!

It ain’t that weird to be surprised by anonymity at this point in my god damn career, you teenage pain in my…

… Ahem.

Hi. Uh, apologize for the informality of all this, I confess you caught me at something of a loss - it is not very often that I get asked after my research without some layer of presumption or prior bias coloring the inquisition, and the sheer novelty of the situation had me reeling this morning when I woke up to such a refreshing email.

If it's all right with you, I'm gonna just ramble a bit at the camera with my coffee, since where I started and where I'm at has gone a little bit off in the weeds, and stream of consciousness is really the most organic way to get this all down these days; transcript below.

My work with the human psyche is, yes, with the human fear response in a manner of speaking - but I am not so much studying how people respond to fear in and of itself, so much as I am studying the therapeutic benefits of using episodes of intense fear as a means of breaking through repressed memories, opening vulnerabilities surrounding trauma, and helping people with anxiety or other fear-related chronic disorders navigate the tangled nests of their own thought processes to help better identify the cores of their issues so that, when they are in a calmer frame of mind, those newly-identified and articulated 'problem areas' in their past or thought processes could be more directly addressed and worked on in a controlled and clinical setting.

I began this path of neuroscientific study back when I was in university about twenty years ago now, and upon graduation, I initially had quite a bit of grant money and backing from the scientific community to pursue this line of inquiry, though most of that has dried up due to some red tape incidents that, for the sake of this explanation, I'm not going to get into at the moment if that's all right.

However, the process has shown a lot of promise, and I have made a lot of headway even though I am now limited to pilot-study sized focus groups and self-funded research, and am forced due to circumstances to make do broadly with volunteers and short-term clinical trials rather than the years-long therapy treatment plans and relationships I had hoped to establish when I began this journey all those decades ago. Despite setbacks, the research itself has been moving at a steady, if rather slow pace, and has proven incredibly promising, and the few folks that have stuck with me for repeat exposure and study have made a lot of headway with the issues I've been trying to address.

I am not currently licensed to practice any of my experimental therapy techniques in a live clinical setting, so my work in outpatient therapy and clinical psychiatric work is not related to my research, and is more just work I do to pay the bills, as a man's gotta eat and pay his employee and feed his kid and whatnot, but I did publish a paper back in '94 before things went tits up at my original research facility y'all could likely find on my initial findings if you want to pursue the topic further.

If that damn thing's behind a paywall or something, lemme know, I got it around here somewhere. Never pay for knowledge that oughta be free.

[visage-of-hell]

Respond to the following prompts out of character, then tag others you'd like to get to know a little bit better.

Roleplayer name: Everyone calls me Yeen, cuz my online handle across a lotta places is usually "YeenQueen" or some variation of that, and my Twitch channel is called "YeenQueenGaming".

Roleplayer pronouns: She/Her

Muse name(s): Visage, but goes by "Vizzy" or "Viz" for short in most social situations.

Preferred communication: Discord, 100%. I literally LIVE on there when I'm not on here or in one of my games. Even take it on the go with the mobile app. I'm totally good with Tumblr IMs, though, don't get me wrong! My only beef with them is the fact that I often don't get notifications from it in real time. It either never pings at all or it makes the sound without the chat actually updating until I refresh the page. Fix your damn spaghetti code, Tumblr, for FUCK'S sake! XD

Experience: Honestly? I've been RPing in SOME form or another since my preteen years. Originally it was IRC chat rooms, then MUCKs (for those who remember those), forums, over email, online games (which I still do in WoW to this very day) ... and then it moved on to whichever instant messaging program was most popular at the time--ICQ, AOL Instant Messenger, MSN Messenger, Skype, and now Discord. I've been on and off with Tumblr across various fandoms for yeeeeeeears now. Since at LEAST 2014, as one of the earliest RP blogs I ever made was a Dhalish elf OC within the Dragon Age fandom.

Preferred roleplay type: Multi-para/novella style, 100%. I do NOT know when to stop, if a scene REALLY gets me going. I have hit the size limit on Tumblr posts on MULTIPLE occasions. I write third person perspective and that usually comes with a lot of inner dialogue and thoughts from the character's perspective in addition to reacting to whatever is happening in a given scene.

Pet peeves & dealbreakers: I always worry that I'm being elitist by saying this, but solid punctuation, spelling and grammar are all EXTREMELY important to me. I gravitate towards people with complimentary writing styles to my own for full RP immersion, so writing with people that deviate from that are just a no-go for me. I'm so sorry. >_< Also people who leave me to do most of the heavy lifting in terms of moving a scene forward. Gimme things to react to, to build upon, a sense of direction, y'know? If I'm constantly the one that has to keep the plot momentum going, I'm gonna burn out and lose interest FAST. Also people who use my characters like "props" rather than having real genuine interactions with them (be it as allies, enemies or something somewhere in between).

Best time to write: Late night, for sure. Not just because that's when all my creative juices flow the best but also because everyone's in bed for the night and I have zero RL interruptions to break my flow. If good ol' insomia has struck again, though, wee early hours of the morning are also probable writing times, cuz the same reasoning still applies!

Are you like your muse? I'd like to think I do a FAIRLY good job of keeping my OCs from coming off as self-inserts, BUT ... let's be honest--we all put at least a LITTLE of ourselves into our OCs, in SOME way/shape/form. I wish I had Vizzy's confrontational prowess and zero bullshit-taking attitude, and that I was anywhere NEAR as good in a fight and on the dance floor as she is, but there IS one thing she and I definitely have in common--the obsessive drive to escape. For me it's writing, gaming and crafting, but the motivation is much the same. It's always so much easier to just bury the pain and the bad under layers of good times and feel-good vibes than to actually CONFRONT that darkness head-on. Much like Vizzy, I try to but don't always succeed ... but I'd like to think that someday I'll have a much better success rate than she does. Eventually. XD

Tagged by: @doublejango

Tagging: @poisonedspider @cup-0fp0isonx @arachnoheaux @shattered-divinity @hcllsbigboss @radiomurdeer @voxuli & ANYONE else who wants to! <3

[botanikos]

Respond to the following prompts out of character, then tag others you’d like to get to know a little bit better.

Roleplayer name: Jude

Roleplayer pronouns: They/Them

Muse name(s): Stolas

Preferred communication: Discord doesn't gobble up messages, so that's truly the best place! However, I still try to answer tumblr IM's as well. I also have telegram if anyone wants it. . . . it's collecting dust!

Experience: Yikes, this dates back to when I was much younger, and before I even used the internet for roleplaying. I started off writing on pen and paper with my cousin and a bunch of friends. We would pass paper or journals back and forth, taking turns writing out scenes or responses from a variety of characters. Mostly, at those times, it was for Teen Titans, Naruto, Bleach, and a few others. I'm going to safely say that early high school was when I took it online, starting off on a couple of forums and chat rooms [ namely, Chatango ]. I frequently roleplayed via text message, email, and instant messengers. I still do this with like, one person via FB Messenger, lol. I occasionally roleplay on Discord, too.

Preferred roleplay type: I gravitate towards whatever my mood and energy seeks out. Unfortunately, I used to do things in a very organized manner, but that time has long since passed me. I am easily exhausted, distracted, and just. . . can't keep up! I prefer things with some substance, but I'm not strict on moving larger plots unless we've communicated it or have a larger goal in mind for our writing. I love just having fun and going with the flow! I'm open to most types, too, though I don't typically do single-liners unless it's like. . . me being goofy on the dash.

Pet peeves & dealbreakers: Automatic assumption of our characters knowing each other! Unless we have talked it over, or your muse is a canon character within the universe that he's interacted with, please don't do this! It makes me [ and Stolas ] uncomfortable!

Absolute dealbreaker - If you think Stolas is an abuser / disregard his being in an abusive relationship, my blog is NOT for you. I've made this clear a few times and wrote up a whole PSA for my portrayal!

Shipping - I've said it a few times, and I'm always willing to go over it for anyone curious, but my Stolas WILL NOT have any sexual or romantic interest in women. At most, if talked through with the other mun's, you'll get a little drunken flirtation. But there will be NO follow up. That being said, I can be a shipping whore [ affectionate ]. I love shipping! And if Stolas finds you attractive, then damn, he WILL flirt! However. . . . I will never just auto-ship with anyone, and I will be taking into consideration how Stolas would / wouldn't feel with your character. There needs to be some sort of interactions to base these things off of before we get into the big stuff. Again, though, if you see something that makes you tilt your head, it's probably because the mun and I have talked privately and are in cahoots with the idea!

Drama - Please don't pull me into it if it can be avoided. I am 30 years old, I did my time of tumblr dramas back in like, 2010. I am here for a good time, not a long time! If I gotta just up and leave, I will. Unless there is some serious shit I need to know, I will NOT be getting involved.

And one last dealbreaker. . . If you're treating this and your partners like there's a time limit, you definitely don't want to write with me! This is what I do for fun, to relax, to explore my writing abilities, sharpen them, and interact with people that don't exhaust me! So if you're going to put a time limit or anything of the sort on our interactions, I'm gonna' lose interest sooooo fast. Absolutely NOTHING I ever send or offer expires. You're also free to just delete it if you lost interest. That wonky ass 2am ask I sent you? Delete it if you don't wanna answer it!

Best time to write: The weekends, since I don't work. And, honestly, night time! It's when things are the calmest for me.

Are you like your muse? Do I gotta' answer this question? Yes, yes, I am like my muse. Stolas and I share quite a few similar qualities, both in terms of hobbies and interests, and emotional states. I have an excessive amount of plants, I love watching the stars, I have an unholy amount of books and love reading, I enjoy tea and intimate conversations. I've been in abusive living situations, I suffer from anxiety & depression, and while some people think highly of me, I think rather low of myself.

Tagged by; @strikers-saloon

Tagging; @flamesignite ; @witchysang ; @distortiism ; @lapetitemxrt ; @siriuslord ; & anyone else! Feel free to say I tagged you if you want.

[badlibbing]

Flight Rising Has A Banning Problem???

I don't know how many FR users are aware of this issue, so I thought it would be a good idea to make a post to spread awareness.

A few months ago, I lost access my own account, leading to this conversation with another player via Discord...

[1st Image ID]

Me: "btw I don't know if you're still active on Flight Rising but to make a long f***in story short I kind of got locked out of my account, so if my dragons seem to be starved that's why"

Them: "Oh they've unfairly banned a lot of users for funneling and such and dance around specifics for a few emails before saying that they ain't responding anymore"

Me: "It's actually a weirder situation than that (regarding mine specifically) but I don't have the energy to explain it"

Them: "Damn. But yeah happened to me, [Mutual 1], [Mutual 2], and several of [Mutual 2]'s friends, as well as other scattered instances"

[End 1st Image ID]

[2nd Image ID]

Them: "Yeah I made another account for no reason other than dragon-ifying OCs and sonas for the funni (because the dressing room needs an account and so does generally saving dragons). Not bothering with anything else because the email exchange basically boiled down to "hey so we banned you for account funneling, we found an account that solely existed to benefit you" "…what account?" "guess :3" And I don't wanna deal with that again. At best they gave a time period. And it was when I had a checklist of items for [Dragon] and [Dragon] in my channel. It was when I was receiving help for those items, I said all of that, and suddenly they were going "oh, well there was this other account during some other time, goodbye now"."

[End 2nd Image ID]

This is... extremely sus.

I can understand why FR might do preemptive bans on accounts with odd activity, but the way they seem to be refusing to help players get their accounts back is very strange. Are they actually that paranoid or just lazy? What's really going on here?

I want to know how many people have encountered this. If it turns out to be a widespread problem... I don't know, can we file a complaint to the team? This is bizarre and I'm not quite sure how to handle it, so we may need to put our heads together as a community to find a solution.

If your account is still active, try bringing this up in a forum post(s) to make the topic hard to ignore.

[finn-m-corvex]

Lightning in a Cubicle Pt. 1

Did I expect to see my silly little post about Jay being another boring office drone take off? Absolutely not. Hell no I didn't. But here we are and everywhere I look there's office Jay taking over the community person by person and I have no idea what I've done. So, what better way to celebrate my newfound stardom than to do what I do best and write?

Between my drawing today and suffering in pain (I've had twelve ibuprofen today, YIKES) I have put together this little thing. Who am I kidding? Nothing I write is little.

This is Part 1, don't know when Part 2 is coming out, but I hope everyone enjoys nonetheless! P.s. lemme know if anyone wants to be on a taglist for Pt. 2.

"Thank you for reaching out about this issue, Charlie. I will get back to you in two to three business days..." Jay was muttering to himself, carefully clicking each key as he responded to the email. He did not want a repeat of the incident where he typed 'fuck' instead of 'duck' to his supervisor. HR had hounded him for two weeks, forcing him to take classes on workplace etiquette and sensitivity lessons.

Jay hated their HR department.

After he finished the email, he made sure to include his signature and click send, reloading the page and checking to see if it actually sent instead of being banished to his drafts. It had happened to many times already. He smiled at the sight of his finally cleared inbox, happily ignoring the forms that he still needed to fill out and all of the paperwork he had to file.

God, how was it only Monday?

For the first time that day, Jay finally had some downtime (as long as he ignored all of his responsibilities). He grabbed up his cup of pens, intending on linking them all together with paperclips to "ropen" and close his cubicle door. He snickered at his own joke; damn, he cracked himself up sometimes.

Calling it a door was quite generous, honestly. It was really more a spare cubicle wall he had stolen from his coworker Judy after she had gone upstairs for the day. The old hag didn't even realize that it was missing the next morning, only seeing that she now had a view right into her best friend Janet's office. Jay had haggled for some hinges from his buddy in the maintenance department, nailing them to his wall and attaching the stolen one.

He had just found his groove in making the rope when a shrill shriek echoed through the office. "WALKER!"

Jay jumped with a small gasp, panicking when a couple strands of his lightning leaked out. He was quick to get it back under control with his breathing, and he was filled with dread when he realized who had called his name.

Shitty Sharon.

"Yeah, Sharon?" he called back, poking his head out from the top of his cubicle. Just as he thought, Sharon was standing in the doorway to their workroom, face red with anger and hands on her hips. All the other ladies were staring at him as he made the walk of shame to the workroom, and Jay felt humiliated under their questioning gazes.

Could he go one day without being summoned like he was a lapdog? One?!

"I thought you were supposed to fix the printer." Sharon said shortly, and Jay was wondering who the hell he had pissed off in the chain of command to be the only man on the women's side of the floor.

It took everything in him not to scream. "I did fix the printer, Sharon."

"Then why the hell won't it print?! I don't have the time for this," she growled.

Neither did he. He had ropes to make. "Did you make sure it had ink and paper? Like I told you last time?"

"Why should I have to do that? That's why you're here, office boy," she said snidely, and god it was too early for this.

He chose to be the bigger person and check the printer himself, and what do you know? It just needed more paper.

"I'll put the paper in for you," he said, because he was not getting bad karma for being a bitch back to Shitty Sharon. She had hella connections with the company, and she would not hesitate to make his life a living hell. The last time he talked back to her, his water had gotten turned off for a week. He had to haul some in from the communal bathrooms just so he could take a shower.

Grabbing a fresh package of paper, Jay opened it with ease, avoiding giving himself a cut as he placed it in the tray. Closing it, he pressed a couple buttons to make sure everything was working right, and then it took all of his willpower not to scream when he glanced at the tiny screen with all of the functions on it.

"Sharon," he said, in the sweetest tone he could conjure at the moment, "why are you printing a thousand copies of this report?!"

"The damn thing wouldn't work, so I just kept clicking print!"

"You're supposed to call the maintenance department!" Jay yelled, throwing his hands into the air. "Or I.T.! Or me! Not print a thousand copies of the same paper!"

"Whatever," she said flippantly, turning away and walking back to her nice spacious office that should've been Jay's. "Just be a 'dear' and take care of it for me."

He didn't want to take care of it. Muttering to himself, Jay smashed the small buttons on the printer with much more force than necessary, cancelling the excess orders but making sure to leave one still open. While he would've loved to cancel all of them to force Sharon to click print again and come get it herself, Jay knew from experience that she would print out a bunch of the shit anyway and dump it in his office.

Jay started humming, readjusting the tie around his neck to give his hands something to do. He relaxed, fully intent on going back to his cubicle to goof around some more until he caught a glace at the clock.

8:50.

He had a meeting in ten minutes.

"Fuck!" Jay yelled, sprinting out of the room and straight for his workspace. He snatched up his briefcase and jacket, nearly forgetting his keycard before spinning on his heel to grab them. There was something he was forgetting, he knew it, but he didn't have the time to wonder what it was.

Slipping his jacket on, Jay didn't bother to keep the door from slamming shut behind as he escaped the suffocating atmosphere of the accounting department. He ran down the hall, pushing past other disgruntled employees with a quick apology. The elevators on their side of the hall were broken; he was going to have to use the ones by Public Relations.

His ever-wondering mind thought about convincing the decorating department to get them some plants as he hurried past white wall after white wall, only sparsely brightened up by a portrait of the board of directors or some fancy-schmancy paintings that Jay couldn't appreciate. What was wrong with some good ol' greenery? Some flowers here, a little fern there, maybe they would even let him go crazy and get a bonsai tree!

You know, if he ever got an office with a window.

"G'morning Jay!" his favorite security guard said to him, and Jay barely had time to wave to the man before he passed. If he was lucky, he wouldn't have to wait very long for the car to arrive on his floor.

The Administration was a beast of a building; you could see it from practically anywhere in Ninjago. With an impressive two hundred and fifty-four floors, it was the first true skyscraper that Jay could ever remember seeing in his life. Or what he remembered from it, anyway.

One of the reasons it had to be so large was because the Administration also housed all of their employees and necessities. The last fifty floors were dedicated entirely to apartments for the workforce, and Jay's own apartment was on level 275. Thinking about that reminded him that he needed to stop by the supermarket on floor 168 before he went home for the day. He had run out of coffee grounds the day before, and heaven knows he couldn't go on without those.

Jay's bad luck continued to haunt him when he skidded to a stop in front of the elevators, and the closest one to floor 67 was the one on 154. Someone must've been visiting the indoor aquarium. Jay wanted to go to the aquarium.

He slammed his hand on the up button, watching as the numbers along the top slowly counted down. Checking his wrist-watch, Jay saw that he had seven minutes to get to the one hundredth floor; this was going to be tight, but as long as there weren't any delays he should be able to make it.

And of course, because he's him, there were delays.

"How many stops do you have to make"?!" he exclaimed, watching as the damned elevator paused for the seventh time. He didn't have the time for this!

Finally, finally, the elevator stopped on his floor, and Jay pushed past all of the people getting off. He swiped his keycard, ignoring the female voice saying "Welcome, Jay Walker," in favor of urgently typing his floor number into the elevator's keypad, and it shot up into the sky like a rocket.

Most of his coworkers had told him stories about how long it had taken them to adjust to the elevator's speed, but Jay had never had a problem with it. Part of him always wondered what he had done in his past life before he came to work for the Administration; there had to be a reason he didn't get motion sick, or how his reflexes were sharper than the blades in the shredder, or why he felt so uneasy whenever he saw someone swinging an object in his direction (like he was expecting an attack?).

There was also the lightning, of course, but no one knew that Jay had that. And no one could ever know. He didn't want to imagine the training that he would be forced to go through if the Administration ever found out about it.

If they didn't ship him off to Imperium first.

"Can this damn thing not go any faster?" Jay growled, tapping his foot against the floor in an aggressive beat. He was glad no one else was in the elevator with him.

Up and up he went, the numbers growing higher and higher, blinking red. 97, 98, 99...

100! and he still had two minutes to spare!

Maybe Mr. Harding would give him that promotion after all!

The doors started opening and Jay was out before they could finish, making a beeline for the door at the other end of the blindingly white hallway. He could feel the sweat staining his light blue button-up, and Jay just had to hope and pray that his jacket covered it up well enough to get through this meeting without his eagle-eyed boss noticing anything.

He knocked on the door, checking his watch and seeing that he had officially made it at 8:59. One minute left.

Jay slapped his corporate smile on his face when Mr. Harding opened the door, making sure to hold out the correct hand. His left, because Mr. Harding was left-handed and had a stronger grip; Mr. Harding also loved having the upper hand. "So good to see you, sir! I hope you're well."

"Mr. Walker," Mr. Harding said casually, but Jay could already tell that his boss was in a bad mood. Shit. "I believe I told you that I wanted you here at 8."

"Pardon?" that definitely was not what the email had said.

"I sent an email to you around 7:30 that I wanted you in at 8." Mr. Harding said slowly, and Jay quickly pushed down the ire that rose at the childish treatment.

Wait, 7:30? He had staff meetings from 7-8 on Mondays!

"B-but that's when I have my staff meetings," Jay explained, holding back from messing with the cuffs of his sleeves. Mr. Harding hadn't taken too kindly to his fidgeting the last time he had been in here. "I'm not allowed to check my phone during staff meetings."

"I expect you to read all of my emails, Mr. Walker," the man said firmly, his lips curling into a distasteful sneer. "You're lucky that I happen to be free at the moment. Now, would you like to step in, or do you want to wait another hour?"

Jay grit his teeth, swallowing his anger and shoving it down deep inside. "Yes sir, sorry sir."

This damn promotion better be worth every moment of this nonsense, or Jay was tearing the Administration down himself.

[booksinstacks]

I'm not saying I don't want to be alive but I'm also not not saying that.

Jk.

But seriously, can we talk about being a disabled university student because I literally feel like I am in hell.

Tell me why my emails about changing my timetable are being ignored?

Tell me why my literal DISABILITY SUPPORT ADVISOR has not responded to my last few emails? YOUR LITERAL JOB IS TO SUPPORT ME, WHERE THE HECK ARE YOU? He could have quit his job for all I know. It's not like anyone in this place ever communicates with me.

How do I get people to listen to me and actually communicate with me? I'm serious. These people who are supposed to be helping me succeed are actively contributing to me having a mental breakdown because they aren't even competent enough to reply to their fucking emails apparently.

Being disabled is hard enough and comes with ridiculous amounts of admin already, without me having to send extra emails chasing people up every damn week because they haven't bothered to get back to me. I am sick of it. I am done!

No wonder so many disabled people drop out of uni or just don't bother going in the first place.

The support is ABYSMAL. It's there, but good luck accessing it. It might as well not exist.

I swear uni life must be a breeze for abled people because uni itself (my classes, the workload) isn't even the problem. My disabilities and the lack of support are the things I'm struggling with. If I weren't disabled I'd be doing SO WELL at uni rn. I'd be able to just enjoy my classes and get my reading done in my free time. And if people would actually respond to my emails and give me the support I need, maybe my disabilities wouldn't be making my uni experience quite so freaking hard.

But alas, by the time I've done my lectures and seminars and all the godforsaken admin that comes with being disabled, I have no energy to do the reading for my classes thanks to brain fog and chronic fatigue and of course the chronic pain which makes those other symptoms worse. That's not even factoring in the executive dysfunction and my inability to focus on things and all that other fun stuff that comes with being neurospicy.

If I could go back in time a few years, I'd tell myself not to bother going to uni. But I'm in second year now, and I might as well just make the most of it and do the best I can. I'm too far in to just quit. But the struggle is real.

[karinamay]

I got tagged by the wonderful @cinnamontails-ff to talk about fanfic so let's go

1) How many works do you have on AO3? 33 apparently? Damn, that's actually way more than I thought okay okay.

2) What’s your total AO3 word count? 198,622 (that's hilariously low again when looking at the amount of works)

3) What fandoms do you write for? BG3 currently, I used to write a lot for CR and Detroit Evolution

4) What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Arms unfolding (Critical Role, Caleb/Essek)

Uselessly devoted (Critical Role, Caleb/Jester)

Something small (Critical Role, Dorian/Dariax)

Three is company (Critical Role, Caleb/Jester/Essek)

The one that got away (BG3, Astarion/Tav)

5) Do you respond to comments? I try to, I really love getting comments and having little conversations with everyone but I'm also terrible with keeping up with my email notifications.

6) What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? Wrong place, wrong time (Detroit Evolution, Nines/Gavin)

7) What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? I almost always write happy endings honestly.. Tell her a story (tell her the honest truth) (Detroit Evolution, Ada/North) maybe?

8) Do you get hate on fics? I don't think I've ever had straight up hate, no.

9) Do you write smut? If so, what kind? Yes, I'm very much a smutty oneshot writer, who occasionally branches out. What kind of smut? I don't know? Nothing extremely. Mainly F/M. The consensual kind. Good communication is a recurring topic. One of my most used tags is probably "dom/sub undertones"

10) Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written? I don't have any crossovers up and I don't plan on writing any. The most idiotic fic I have up on AO3 is a fanfic based on the google translate butchered script of Detroit Evolution called Camp Cyberlife (Anatomy) that I fully just wrote as a joke for a couple of friends.

11) Have you ever had a fic stolen? Not that I'm aware.

12) Have you ever had a fic translated? Nope.

13) Have you ever co-written a fic before? Also no.

14) What’s your all time favorite ship? My all time favourite ship is Will/Elizabeth from PotC, but I don't read or write about that, they just live in my brain forever.

15) What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? I have a WIP still up for a Detroit Evolution fic that I haven't touched in literal years, that I recently got a comment on. I reread it and now I personally am pissed at myself for never finishing it because it ends on a cliffhanger and I don't even remember what was supposed to happen.

16) What are your writing strengths? The thing I've been complimented on most across all fandoms is characterisation. I take a lot of care finding the voice of the characters I write, and from people's reactions that seems to work very well.

17) What are your writing weaknesses? Pacing. Pacing is hard.

18) Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic? I think it's hard to not have it be confusing. I've thrown in a few words in a different language here and there a few times, but never more than that. I think there's definitely a place for it but it's hard to do it well.

19) First fandom you wrote for? Oof, um. I think that somewhere in the dephts of ff.net there's still a fic of mine for the shadowhunters universe that exists.

20) Favorite fic you’ve written? Recently probably The one that got away. That one is a little special to me because the Tav in there is a character very near and dear to my heart. Besides that I'm actually really really enjoying working on my current multichapter (with the most obnoxiously long title) High heeled heroes & reluctantly righteous rogues (BG3, Astarion/Tav).

[elialys]

hiii ambre, no need to respond (srsly) but I just wanted to say that I’m so sorry to see people communicating in bad faith in your inbox and for making you feel like you’re being surveilled because that’s just deeply disturbing behaviour. you’re amazing for responding to them with the level of patience and kindness that they wouldn’t even think to afford you.

and you probably know all of this already! but seeing all that drama on my dash reminded me of some bad experiences so I just wanted to drop a message to say that I’m so impressed with the way you are handling it, even when you didn’t have to, and hopefully throw some positivity into your inbox? :3

hope you have a great rest of the day, and here's a quick boop to swat the negativity away!

Thank you so much for the positivity in my inbox, lovely, it's definitely appreciated ❤️ I actually DID have a great day, I finished the second draft of a chapter I'm actually happy with and excited to share (with me 3 lovely readers 😂🥰), spent the afternoon with my favorite 3 year old after 2 weeks away and he told me he loved me, and then I got an email confirming I was officially getting an interview for the school I'd like to study in next fall, so all and all, pretty damn good!

I know I'm probably giving those anons more time/energy/patience than I should, given their attitude toward me, but what can I say, I believe people can all be good and nice to each other, as long as we communicate like adults. Wishful thinking certainly, but ah well.

[deuce-t]

Another email about my account being terminated two days ago has been sent. A few people have recommended using an email different from the one connected to the account (tumblr tells you to use the one connected to the account but many other people who had their accounts wrongfully terminated said staff only responded when they used a different email) I will give them a few more days before I try again.

What is the point of having the option to appeal a termination and ask why a termination happened if staff does not reply?

If I can’t get my blogs and my account back I at least want to know what of my content (that has never violated community guidelines) caused my account to be terminated. I damn well know my account activity didn’t look like a fucking bot so unless staff is just instantly terminating any account that’s reported as a bot they better have a damn good reason for terminating an account that followed their goddamn guidelines.

[cognitiveleague]

Cut for work venting / length / sleep deprived ADHD run-on sentences. Basically just using Tumblr as a journal for stress relief since I’m awake

Goddddd it’s past 3 AM on a damn Saturday and I’m trying so hard not to spend half the weekend trying figure out any response to an upset client’s most recent email other than like.

“Hon, I think you may have mistaken my polite tone and commitment to engaging with you in good faith with decency and transparency for some kind of inclination to bend over backwards if a client is not happy for any reason? But I think my colleague and I have both been pretty straightforward with you about what kind of help we can and can’t offer in this situation and Karen-ing about it at this stage isn’t going to change that, especially since we have legal obligations to your insurance company to actually charge you what they have put toward your deductible costs for this year, so instead of stamping your feet about not being happy with the cost (which I *understand* is a lot and we’re all broke and tired and it hurts, and which I fundamentally believe a just world shouldn’t place on the patient, but we live in the world and the country we live in for now and you are older than my thoroughly grown ass so we are both going to have to be adults and deal with that part) please fucking work with me here so Incan at least give you all the patience you need and the assurance that your credit won’t be affected as long as you stick to some type of payment plan or at least keep in communication with us about any issues with the plan, or it WILL become my job to send your case to a collections agency, which exists to try and get your money without giving any kind of a fuck and will ABSOLUTELY both add 20% to your already difficult to bear balance and immediately report the debt to credit agencies without batting one goddamn eyelash, and under no circumstances do I want to have to do that any more than you want me to so please help me have another choice in the matter”

Or, less charitably, “oh my god I’m so sorry, I thought you told my coworker you were upset to receive a bill for [pre-expected write off amount] because you were confused, but if you ‘already know how to read a statement and know the actual balance is [much smaller amount] and that’s what [you’re] upset about’ then you must just have been trying to intimidate the entry-level worker with the wrong number on purpose to see if you could guilt her into doing her job wrong and getting in trouble for you, my bad!” or “look, it sucks, but management is not going to view the one mistake that was made on our end as one on the scale where it would be appropriate to respond by lowering the balance significantly, like if I stuck my neck out even further than I already have for you there’s a slim chance I could get you a small courtesy write off but it’s not too damn likely and would be small enough to feel like more of a slap in the face than just saying ‘no, the balance is correct and I’m afraid it isn’t something that’s negotiable at this point’ , and since you’ve been sort of a dick to my colleague and me so far (because you seem like the kind of person who thinks it’s appropriate to throw a fit at underpaid employees until someone kisses your ass and pretends the client is always right, but unfortunately for you my instinctive reaction to rudeness is not to kiss ass, it’s ‘oh that’s how you want to play? Let’s fucking dance, then, asshole’), I’m not sure why I should waste more of my limited time and annoy my bosses for the slim chance of a small change that would still leave you furious and dissatisfied anyway”

or “I think there may be some kind of error on the alleged list of practices your surgeon gave you for the mental health clearance, because if the other practices can actually provide this evaluation at the out of pocket price point you insist were on that list, I will eat my fucking hat. Like at this point it’s cost our practice more than that much to buy the blank forms needed for your evaluation, submit them for you, and pay me personally (even at the mildly insulting rate I get paid) for the amount of work hours I’ve spent reviewing your case, talking to office management to see where I could get them to compromise for you out of the goodness o my heart, and making sure my colleague’s and my own responses to you have all had the right balance of ‘compassionate and polite but setting clear expectations for what’s realistic to be asking at this point’ and you haven’t even paid us a damn cent of it yet?”

Or “look, I owned up to the one small contributing mistake on our end in the interest of being decent and honest to you and being able to grant you SOME ground in compensation, and I really do get where you’re coming from, but in total fairness here, even the least competent member of our billing team on a bad day would have easily caught that and cleared it up for you before services took place if you had made any attempt to ask *us* (the people whose job it is to know jack shit about insurance) what it was going to cost prior to your appointment, but what you did was wait until you were already in session and then ask the guy who, I cannot stress this enough, is a wonderful person who is great at the things that are his job but has a doctorate and decades of relevant experience in *psychotherapy and psychiatric testing*, not any sort of financial field, and works for a practice where someone else handles the accounting and insurance stuff for him, so why the fuck would *he* have been able to instinctively notice that the numbers looked wrong the way we would have in the 5 seconds of your appointment time he could spare to check on them for you???????? How was asking *him*, during the appointment, ‘doing your due diligence to research the costs in advance and make an informed decision’, you absolute turnip?????”

[cheemsitz]

Hello, Teacher Crush Community. Unfortunately, I am back because I graduated high school in June, and I'm still in absolute agony.

This is a long post, so I will continue this under the cut

So here's a moment from our last day together that replays in my head and makes me feel super shitty.

For reference, he was my guidance counselor. If anyone else feels as if that’s relevant to know lol

We were hanging out in his office, and I made some stupid jokes. I forgot what the joke actually was, but something along the lines of me in a dangerous situation???? But he didn't humor me and told me that he hopes that I'll be okay and that he cares about me, etc., and at the end of that, he told me he loved me, and I hate thinking about it. I hate that I still think about it because I never told him that I loved him too, and I really wanted to, but I felt embarrassed.... ashamed? As if I didn't deserve to hear that, it shocked me that someone chose to love me; it wasn't obligated love from a family member or anyone else who's expected to love me; he chose to love me, and he said it unprompted, and I didn't say it back, and I tried, but the words got caught in my throat, so I just ended up sighing in response and making another stupid joke.

I hope that my (lack of) response didn't make him think that I didn't care, but with the little logic I have left, I know he probably didn't take it that way. I was joking with him one day, and he said something so lame while we were playing Mario Kart, so I told him, "I hate you," and he just responded, "No, you don't." So a part of me knows that he knows I care for him, and he knew I was upset to leave him well before I graduated anyway, and he would tell me, “What am I going to do without you?” SO DAMN! I NEED TO STOP GETTING IN MY HEAD! AND BEING SO DUMB!

To end this post on a positive note, he actually emailed me last week, and it's dorky and lame, but it's (unfortunately) funny to me. They’re heavily redacted, just out of respect for other people who are mentioned, and a few aspects of my personal life. Also, I think it’s worth noting that the subject of the Email is “Punk Bitch.” LMFAOOO

[hislittleraincloud]

Yes to all of it. We oldies remember the days when we actually owned the programs we used instead of renting them off of the websites. Because that's what it is...we are forced to rent and keep paying rent on shit like Adobe Photoshop/Illustrator (and even our own damn simple functionality of connecting our computers to the internet. I was horrified to find that I couldn't just connect without the fucking cloud shit saving every little thing that I did ("OneDrive" SUCKS SO MUCH!).) As if we don't pay enough rent as renters, or even homeowners who RENT the fucking equipment in order to get internet service (with the fucking rental fee for the fucking modem).

This is fucking greed

It's FUCKING GREED.

My 81yo father is a graphic artist (as well as a microbiologist and botanist) and he's complaining that his Photoshop doesn't work now. I told him that he needs to download the legacy CS2 (or 5 or whatever it is) and use that for free since the Adobe mfs are charging people rent now. CS2 is what I use. I OWNED THE DISK. Anyone can find the program online somewhere, find an old password crack, and get in.

When I was dirt poor and just getting my first computer out here on the West Coast, it came with a shitty Adobe program that was LIKE Photoshop; not as extensive (PhotoDesign? I forget what it's called now), but it still had layers...it was kind of like MSPaint but with layers and 50% more functionality. It was somewhere between Paint and Photoshop, but it worked just fine bc I could create the same things that I could if I had PS.

I wrote some pretty raunchy ABC Daytime Soap fic back in 1999 (the sex in there would put everything in Afterburn to shame). And I mean stuff that WOULD get me on the antis Wanted Posters. I used that shitty program to make the headers (yes, my fic had headers BACK THEN). I don't remember what website hosted them but it was one that accepted adult-oriented NSFW things/fic...it was an NSFW web host, if I recall I was formatting and FTP'ing it all and had a little website. I was even chatting with Catherine Hickland about getting her own website up and running because I was such a fan boy and back then it wasn't too weird to communicate directly with celebrities (I emailed Kate Mulgrew in 1997 because I found her Paramount address somehow, and she freaking responded to me 💀). Cat had no idea I was writing dark smut though, thank the gods. But anyway, I made all my headers, buttons, character bios, etc. with the free program that came with the printer and the headers looked no different in quality than the headers I make today. 1999 or 2024, just give me a simple program with layers and fonts and I'll make it work.

Ignorance is a product of laziness, not limitation. (Thanks, Cairo.)

Download legacy programs that you can get to work. Use them, and stop paying rent to The Man.

It should be illegal to require that any device or software connect to the internet just to run. I shouldn't need to log in with microsoft to open any of their programs on my local computer. All games should be playable without access to an online server. All media you pay for should be downloadable to local disk as a raw file and if they don't like that because they know you'll share it and upload it, tough shit. They took your money already, they'll live.

[loyal-logik]

KNOWING YOUR PARTNER WELL CAN POTENTIALLY MAKE WRITING TOGETHER A LOT EASIER. REPOST DO NOT REBLOG!

NAME:  Owl 

PRONOUNS: He/him. 

PREFERENCE OF COMMUNICATION: If you’re mutuals, please feel free to ask for my disco/rd as I do prefer to communicate there. I’m in a different time zone since I’m in Australia, so I can’t always respond, at least if I’m on disco, then you generally know if I’m around or not. For those who I’m not mutual with, I’m happy to chat through IM’s here, and perhaps later add to discord :) 

NAME OF MUSE(s): I write Shockwave here and Megatron over at @warriorsparked​.

RP EXPERIENCE/HOW LONG (MONTHS / YEARS?):  Oh man... maybe since... 2007 or so? Back when people Rped through notes on devART or MSN, or even email and forums lol. 

PLATFORMS YOU’VE USED:  deviantART, MSN, Skype, email, forums, tumblr... I’m old lol. 

BEST EXPERIENCE: I would say my best experience has probably been over in the Dragon Age community (where I write my Inquisitor--altho he’s on a bit of a hiatus atm until I get muse for him again). I met a whole bunch of absolutely wonderful people there, and I think it’s been the less dramatic of fandoms I’ve written in. I want to say the TF fandom does hold a special place in my heart because it was my first big fandom when I was young and a growing artist and writer, and it’s inspired me so much to become a better writer as well, but I’ve also had some pretty ugly experiences in this fandom back in the day as well, as it was filled with a lot of immature people. It seems to have grown a lot and matures a lot since I took my break, though, so that’s been a welcoming experience. :) 

PET PEEVES/DEALBREAKERS: Not respecting people’s rules, being rude and manipulative, guilt tripping, then general manipulative behaviour and no go bullshit that most people don’t like. Also, I really don’t like when people vague blog about people, I think it’s childish. 

FLUFF, ANGST OR SMUT:  I like all for all different reasons :) I’m probably best at writing angst and smut, as it was my speciality back in the day lol, but I do love fluff as well. I love it all. Even better if there’s all three in the one thread lol. 

PLOTS OR MEMES:  Both! I’m pretty tired at the end of the day, so sometimes memes are a great ice breaker for interactions and something easy that I don’t have to think about, but in the long run, I really enjoy plots, something deep and descriptive to work with, a plan and an idea on where we’re heading and what may happen down the track. I love both because both have their places, but if you want the most out of my muses, then plots are definitely the way to go.  

LONG OR SHORT REPLIES:  Long. I prefer detail and something that I can work with. I personally find it VERY difficult to write just one line replies or just one paragraph, because I like going into detail about my muses and how they feel and react. If you give be one line back after I’ve written 3 paras... chances are I’m going to lose interest pretty damn quick. I love novella, so never be shy when it comes to writing lenghty replies with me! I seriously can’t work off short replies, and I do feel like I’m not getting as much out of the experience as I could be. But I totes understand if that isn’t how others prefer to write, it just means we’re not compatible, and that’s okay! There’s plenty of fish in the sea. :) 

BEST TIME TO WRITE:  I honestly prefer writing in the morning. I feel a lot fresher in the morning, which is why I don’t get much writing done on my work days--because I’m tired from work and can hardly human lol. If I can manage to do replies on my days off, earlier, I’ll feel very good about myself, but some days I just can’t when I get home from work, all I wanna do is eat and sleep lol. 

ARE YOU LIKE YOUR MUSE(S):  There’s definitely some parallels to both Shockwave and Megatron, for many different reasons. Am I a cool arse giant robot that can transform? Unfortunately... no. There’s a lot of things that I’ve gained inspiration from from personal experiences in my life for them both, many different and complex things. I think a lot of my social awkwardness and antisocial behaviour is definitely displayed in how I write Shockwave (I have aspergers and I do lean on that a little when writing Shockwave), and for Megatron, I think I express some of my more emotional side through, especially frustration personal trauma, but I believe all writers express themselves through their muses in one way or another.

Tagged by: No one, I stole from an old blog Tagging: You! Tag me so I can read :) 

[stackofsnakes]

I absolutely hate how phones shifted our way we treat communication: Every inquiry demands immediate attention. You don't have that with letters and emails, they don't play a loud sound at arrival, they don't enable or demand immediate response, they don't have a little hook that turns blue when looked at.

My mom one of the reasons why i keep my phone on silent. Throughout my entire childhood, incoming calls took precedence over whatever else was happening. We'd be having a conversation, we'd be disicussing something important, urgent and then a call coomes in. My mom would be on calls for hours and only be torn away by another call. That was the only thing that'd get her to abandon a call, not her family, not anybody else who was actually in the room.

This behaviour isn't exclusive to my mom, she's not out of the ordinary. So many people will drop whatever they're doing for a call, especially personal stuff but also professional things, yet how often do you drop a call for somebody who's there physically. Many people have fewer qualms to leave somebody on hold who's sitting right across the table, even if this very meeting is the main event at the moment, for somebody who's doing god knows what on the side. Anybody been on a date or had a one-on-one-session with a friend when they received a call that ultimately was about something unimportant but still was given room to play out, leaving you to wait or play on your phone until the call was over? It's rude! It's disrespectful.

I've been getting a lot of complaints that i keep my phone silent; that i don't hand out the immediate attention other people have grown entitles to, but all of them can suck an egg. I respond at my convenience, so if i don't respond it's just not convenient at the moment. Don't call me another time, at least not if it's not important, just leave me a damn message or try again at a later time! I'll respond once i'm able to. I'm a person, i do things with my time, i'm not exactly waiting in front of my phone in desperation for a call.

It's tragic how many people i was actively engaging with in person got uncomfortable when i ignored a call or even a message for their sake. Like, dude, this is not important rigth now, you are. If it was urgent, i would have responded.

"It's disrespectful to ignore calls."- Is it? I think it's disrespectful that you think you deserve my time and attention at your convenience by virtue of having my number.

"I also drop whatever i'm doing when you call." - Cool, i wish you wouldn't. In fact, i don't remember ever asking you to do that. Don't respect me by disrespecting yourself and your time, i'll just shoot you a message or try again at a later date.

In any case, my phone will stay on silent, i won't take calls when inconvenient, i will keep glancing at previews of messages to judge whether i have time to respond and i'll wrap up a call quick to get back to people who are with me.

Also, since mobile phones exist, it's just rude to demand others be quiet for your call. Just go somewhere else.(With that i mostly mean my mom who wandered into the living room while on a call, sat down on the couch and had the audacity to turn the TV quiet. "Excuse me, i'm on the phone?!" "Well, take it outside! I can't very well grab the TV and fuck off, now can i?")

corporate ppl are always like “i hate email comms they cause so many delays” but those people are fools. i crave communication delays. i hit send on an email and then immediately shoot a prayer up to the heavens that the response may take 2-3 days. let’s slow everything down just a bit thank you.

[nataliedanovelist]

GF - Mabel’s Worry

Collab with @clownwry! They’ve been super sweet and very nice, and after getting inspired by this post, I decided to write a full on-fic about it... but then it spiraled out of control, so enjoy an angsty story featuring the sweater twins!

~~~~~~~~~~

Mabel sat up quickly, breathing just as heavy as an Olympic runner. She shook her head to clear it and she hugged her knees in self-embarrassment. It was just a stupid nightmare. Vague, no real plot, but still carried the overall message, the fear, anxiety, and still made Mabel’s blood run cold and sweat sparkle on her forehead. She needed to calm down, get herself together. Milk. Warm milk.

And so she quietly got out of bed and left her shared attic bedroom for downstairs. Despite being gone for nine months, she still knew this dark home by heart. She could walk it blindfolded if needed, but the moonlight leaking in through the triangular windows helped her in her journey. That and a small light coming from the living room. Like a moth to a flame, Mabel sleepily dragged her socked feet to the room and peaked through the doorway, half of her face hidden by wood and shadow.

Grunkle Ford was sitting in the armchair, reading a book in the light of a lamp. Mabel’s spirit was lifted, relieved and happy to see him, but she was hesitant to bother him. He was happy with his book, she really shouldn’t bother him with her own stupid problems. She should probably just go get her drink and go to bed and leave him alone. But then Grunkle Ford’s instincts alerted him of a spy and he looked up and instantly smiled.

“Mabel,” His blissful facial expression dropped suddenly remembering that she went to bed a few hours ago and it wasn’t quite daylight yet. “What’s wrong? Is everything okay?”

This really wasn’t like her, for words to fail leaving her mouth, for her to be silent or non-vocal. But all Mabel could do was barely step into the light, hands behind her back, and shrug with her eyes to the floor. She was silent because she was afraid of what she would say if she dared to give herself the opportunity to talk. Ford grew more concerned, but he knew what to do; he had more practice under his belt now than he did months ago. He smiled softly at his niece, closed his book and sat it on the dino skull, and patted his thigh. “Come here.”

Mabel looked up and bit her lip. The dame broke over her uncle’s kindness. With watering eyes she ran into his lap and clung onto him tightly, burying her face in his chest and whimpering as tears left her eyes. Ford hugged her back tightly and petted her soft long brown hair. The girl might be thirteen, but that doesn’t mean she would stop having nightmares or no longer need comfort. Moses knows, as much as he would deny it, Ford still had nightmares and still needed reassurance. Not to mention it was well-earned after everything he and his family had been through… everything he put his family through…

Mabel was mumbling something into his maroon sweater. Ford thought it was moans, sobs, but as he listened he could actually make out words. “M’sorry… m’sorry…”

“Hey, hey.” Ford said softly. “There’s nothing to be sorry for, my dear.”

“... didn’t mean t’bother you…”

“Oh,” Ford cooed as gentle as a lamb. “Oh, sweetheart, you could never bother me. Never.”

Mabel sniffed. “M’sorry.” Whether she was still sorry for bothering him or sorry for being sorry was a bit unclear, but Ford decided it didn’t matter.

“It’s alright.” Ford eased. “It’s alright, my dear.”

After a few minutes of letting Mabel cry into his chest, Ford could feel Mabel make a sharp shiver in his hold. He got a pretty good idea, and so he gently had Mabel let him go. She whimpered like a puppy denied a treat, but she watched with sparkling eyes as Ford slipped off his maroon sweater, revealing a thin long-sleeved white undershirt, and he sweetly pulled it over Mabel’s head and smiled at her. She helped him by slipping her arms into the correct holes and she grinned as she now wore Ford’s old red sweater. Nearly every day he wore a Mabel Sweater she had made for her, whether she mailed it to the Stan O’ War while they were apart, or she gave it to him in person. Only every so often did he wear his old sweater, but they were both glad he did.

Mabel allowed her head to sink deeper into the worn yarn. Her senses and lungs were drowned in Ford’s scent, which brought along happy memories and good emotions. She hugged Ford again and he happily held her, petting her hair and just being there. 

A few minutes of silence passed, and Ford made a prediction that it was a good time to check on her verbally. “Feeling better? Mabel?” He looked down and Mabel was asleep, one arm still around him, one hand holding onto his undershirt. Ford chuckled warmly in his chest, slowly stood, and carried Mabel to the attic to tuck her in.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Dipper, they’re ready!” Mabel called.

Dipper hurried up the stairs and ran into his shared bedroom, plopped on the beanbag, and Mabel started the call on the laptop they had on the floor between the two beds. The grunkles answered at once, sitting at the table and grinning.

“Well hey there, gremlins! How was your week?” Stan greeted.

“Pretty good, just the usual school stuff.” Dipper answered.

“Did you get the package?” Mabel asked.

Ford grinned and picked up the large sealed box and placed it on the table. “Yes, perfectly intact! We picked it up in Pevek two days ago.”

“What?! And you haven’t opened it?!”

“Oh, well we thought we should wait until…”

“You two will freeze!” Mabel shook her head and smiled. “Open it and get warm!”

Stan rolled his eyes as he pulled out his pocketknife and cut the tape. “Sweetie, in the last two years we’ve been sailing you’ve sent us three trunks full of blankets, eight pairs of gloves, at least a dozen sweaters for each of us, six scarves…”

“Not that we don’t appreciate it, we always love your packages, my dear.” Ford interrupted. “But you work too hard. We’re never cold thanks to you.”

“Good. Let’s keep it that way.” Mabel said firmly.

“Oh wow! Mabel!” Ford gasped happily as he pulled out a new green sweater-vest with golden diamonds and a long-sleeved salmon button up. “This is beautiful!” Ford also pulled out a regular dark-orange turtleneck.

Stan noticed there had been two stacks of things. Ford had already taken out his stack, so the old conman grinned as he plunged his hand into the box and grabbed his new baby-blue sweater with a sailboat on it. “Sweet! And look here!” Stan pulled out another sweater, this one being a warm cream color with tiny pinetrees on the neck and wrists and waist of the sweater. “Wow, Mabel! Just when I thought your sweaters couldn’t get more impressive… this is so cool!”

Mabel blushed over the compliments. “I’m glad you like them. There’s still…”

“Oh, my dear, this must have taken you ages!” Ford pulled out one last item: a large knitted blanket to go with the others, this one made with very thick yarn that was as soft as the melody of youthful days. It was very large and could easily cover both men, and it resembled the sky perfectly, being dark blue with white specks.

“Thank you, pumpkin, this is amazing!”

Mabel grinned and said, “Just please stay warm.”

Ford smiled and nodded. “Of course we will. We’re always careful, my dear. And thanks to you I think I’ve forgotten what it’s like to be cold.”

Mabel wasn’t sure if she bought it, the number of times she saw their chattering teeth, tight jaws, and rosy cheeks and noses in pictures, but she decided not to fight it and she just smiled.

~~~~~~~~~~

There are some benefits to living in the glorious year of 2014. Many different forms of communication allow people to keep in contact, no matter how far apart they are. So not only did Ford, Stan, Dipper, and Mabel, text every day and send pictures and emails, they always had their Saturday night/Sunday morning video call. Always. So, of course, Mabel and Dipper were a little concerned when no one responded to their text messages to ask if they were ready for the call.

“Hey guys! Ready?”

“Rise and shine, sleepy heads! Can’t wait to see you guys!”

“Are you guys okay? We understand if you can’t make it this week.”

“Is something wrong? We’re not mad, but could you please text us.”

“Guys, seriously, this isn’t funny…”

“If we don’t hear back from you guys I will call the FBI! The CIA!”

“You guys do know how to use your phones, right?”

“Are you guys hurt?! ARE YOU DEAD?!”

Dipper looked up from his phone and across his bedroom. Mabel was in Sweatertown on her bed, buried in her favorite nightgown. Dipper sighed and moved to sit next to her. “Mabel, it’ll be okay.”

“They’re jerks.” Mabel mumbled from within the maroon yarn.

Dipper smiled and nodded in agreement. “Yeah, we’ll get payback when they finally answer.”

Mabel lifted her head just enough to peek at his twin. “But what if they never do…” And tears formed.

Dipper rubbed her back and said, “They will. I swear.”

But they didn’t. As time ticked from ten o’clock at night to midnight to even three o’clock in the morning, Dipper and Mabel stayed awake, waiting for a response, both of them knowing any attempt to sleep was futile. And when Mabel’s phone buzzed and rang for a video-call, they both dove and Mabel clicked the green button with a shaking hand.

~~~~~~~~

Stan gave his brother the mug of warm water. “You’re an idiot.”

Ford snorted and sipped the warm drink. “This isn’t coffee.”

“You don’t need coffee, you need to get hydrated.” Stan collapsed into the couch next to his brother. His eyes landed on the wall-clock, and he shot up quickly and ran for the bedroom. “DAMN IT!”

“What? What is it?!” Ford gasped.

“It’s Sunday!”

Ford groaned and slapped his forehead.

Stan grabbed his phone and found a dozen text messages from each kid and some missed phone calls. “Ah jeez, I know you’re wiped out, Sixer, but we gotta talk to these kids.”

“I don’t care if I’m on my deathbed, we’re calling them.” Ford hollered back as he loosened the grip of his blanket and Stan entered the room. His brother sat next to him and called Mabel’s phone.

At once Stan’s phone lit up with two distressed looking kids, both with wide eyes but missing their bedheads. “YOU’RE OKAY!” The two teenagers cried out.

Stan winced. “Kids, we’re really really sorry…”

“What happened?!” Mabel gasped. “Grunkle Ford, are you okay?! You don’t look very good, are you sick?!”

“Mabel, sweetie, I’m okay.” Ford eased. “I… erm, I fell overb-...”

“YOU FELL IN THE OCEAN?!” Mabel yelled in horror.

“Ssh, Mabel!” Dipper hissed, eyeing the door.

“Are you okay?! Are you on your way to a hospital?! Do you need anything? We can hitchhike…”

“Mabel, Mabel, please, I’m alright, Stanley’s been taking excellent care of me.” Ford said firmly. “I’m sorry we scared you, sweetie, but…”

“Well, good!” Mabel snapped, visibly angry and now full-on scolding. Stan and Ford glanced at each other nervously, getting flashbacks of scoldings from their mother. “You should be, knuckleheads! We can’t tell if you’re even still alive unless you tell us! Don’t you ever scare me like that again, you hear?! If something happened to you… I’m glad you’re happy and doing what you love, but PLEASE don’t kill yourselves doing it!” Mabel bit her lip as she realized she was yelling, and she used the long sweater sleeve to wipe at her damp eyes. “Sorry, I didn’t mean…”

“Aw, pumpkin, it’s okay.” Stan replied calmly. “You’ve got every right to be mad at us. I’m sorry, I should have at least texted you. But I honestly didn’t cuz I was busy keeping this dork alive.” Stan teased, elbowing Ford and making him smile. “So, yeah, that was really scary and that wasn’t fair, but he’s gonna be just fine and we’re both okay and you know that now. Right?”

Mabel held her knees and sunk her face into Ford’s old sweater, only her eyes and the top half of her face visible now, but she wasn’t looking at them. “Yeah… Yeah, okay…”

“Mabel,” Ford said firmly. “Mabel, look at me.” He waited until her eyes were on him, and he smiled softly and said, “We’re okay. I promise, we’re both okay.”

Mabel couldn’t help but return the smile. “Okay… okay…” She sniffed and lifted her head a little, but her chin was still happily buried in red yarn. “So, tell us what happened? Was it the Kraken again?”

Stan grinned at the opportunity for a story, and the kids happily sat and listened.

~~~~~~~~~~

Almost fifteen-years-old. Dipper should know better than to run off into the woods after a dangerous anomaly, but he did it anyway. Mabel stayed home to make sure the monster didn’t come back, and was soon reunited with her boys as they arrived, breathing heavily. Dipper was okay for the most part. His arm was hurt and he had a black eye, but he was okay, and their grunkles were only a little scuffed and there was a leaf or two in Ford’s fluffy hair.

Mabel hurried to Dipper, but instead of hugging him like the three guessed she would, she smacked her brother over the head.

“Hey!”

“Mabel!”

“You KNUCKLEHEAD!” Mabel screamed. “Don’t you EVER do that again, you hear?! Don’t you dare! What were you thinking?! You just HAD to go after it! Couldn’t go inside like a normal person!”

“Good to see you too, sis.” Dipper muttered. “I had it under control.”

“I don’t care! What if you never came back…”

Dipper blinked and interrupted her. “Aw, Mabel, that was never gonna happen.”

Mabel bit her lip, held herself, and looked away.

“M-Mabel, I’m really sorry…”

“Here, let’s get you cleaned up first, and then we’ll talk about this, okay?” Stan eased, sensing that they needed a time-out. “C’mon, kid.”

Dipper sighed and followed Stan to the bathroom where they kept the first aid kit, leaving Ford alone with Mabel, who was well prepared to talk to her.

“Mabel, my dear, you have every right to be upset with him…”

“How could he do that?!” Mabel looked up at her uncle. “How could he think for a second it’s okay to just run off like that?!”

Ford chuckled a little to try to lighten the situation. “You know your brother. He has high ambitions and is extremely curious.”

“That doesn’t matter!” Mabel snapped. “It’s still stupid and selfish! I know he needs to do what he loves, but doesn’t he know how much I need him?! How can he just leave me behind?!”

Ford stared at Mabel. Her voice was cracking, her lip was trembling, and something in her eyes was screaming to be heard. Ford thought for a second, then dared to ask, “A-Are you talking about Stanley and I as well?”

Mabel sobbed. She yelled out in pain and collapsed on the bottom step, burning her face in her hands, and sobbed her heart out. Ford was stunned to hear her cry so hard, in so much emotional pain. She didn’t even cry this hard over any nightmares, and he had dealt with a handful of them. Poor Mabel was crying so hard and violently she gagged and retched occasionally, her body torn if she could cry or not but it was out of her control.

Ford got on his knees before her, but did not touch her. It broke his heart to see her so upset. And he and Stan had done this? Whatever it would take to fix it, he would do it. He was reluctant, but if sailing around the world with his brother was causing this much pain for their girl, then they would both agree to dock for good. “M-Mabel…”

“I understand…” Mabel mumbled through her tears and into her palms. “I understand why you had to go… why you both wanna go… b-b-but what if something happens to you?! How many times have you both gotten sick or hurt or nearly killed?! I miss you all the time and I’m always worried I’ll never see or hear from you again!”

“Oh, Mabel, sweetie…” Ford reached out a hand to put on her shoulder, but Mabel threw herself into Ford’s hold and he hugged her back tightly.

“I get it… I understand why you have to go… so WHY do I still feel this way?!” Mabel sobbed, clinging onto his uncle for dear life. “I’m so angry and scared and hurt! But I don’t want you to stop, I want you to sail cuz I know it makes you happy, but I need you to be okay!”

A lot of things clicked in Ford’s brain. Why Mabel always sent packages full of warm clothes. Why she always asked what they ate. Why she always checked on them. Why she was very observant and asked if they were okay if something was slightly off. Why she easily got worried if she didn’t hear from them. And why she always hugged them like she never wanted to let them go.

 Ford blinked his stiff eyes a few times and forced himself to keep it together. “I’m so sorry, Mabel. You and your brother are everything to us. I love you two more than anything. If… If sailing causes you this much distress we can…”

“NO! No no no!” Mabel screamed in horror, holding on tighter. “No, please don’t stop cuz of me! I don’t- That doesn’t matter!”

“Mabel Pines,” Ford said firmly and readjusted his hold on her so he could look her straight in the eye. “You matter.”

“I-I know. I know.” Mabel breathed. “But… please don’t stop sailing cuz of me. Please. I don’t want you to stop. But… I want you and Grunkle Stan to be okay. I… I can’t lose you…”

A large lump was in Ford’s throat. He tried to swallow it away, but it didn’t work. He compromised and took advantage of the silence. He cupped Mabel’s right cheek with his left hand and wiped some tears away with his thumb. Mabel covered his hand with hers and turned her face into his palm.

“I understand, my dear. I do. And I’m so sorry. I swear, we won’t stop sailing unless we want to. You have my word. But I also swear to you that Stanley and I won’t let anything happen. We;re too scared of losing each other to let anything happen, believe me.” Mabel moved her eyes to his. “We will always come home. I promise.”

Mabel hugged her uncle again and cried into his shoulder, leaving him to rub her back and pray she would be okay. Ford opened his eyes and caught the sight of his twin at the top of the stairs. He must have heard Mabel’s screams and come to investigate, but decided to stay out of it. But a look from Ford told Stan that Mabel needed him too, so Stan climbed down the stairs, sat behind her, and hugged them both.