#Process to Become a Seller

[thegembazaar]

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[acti-veg]

Leather vs. Pleather: 8 Myths Debunked

Since we are all beyond tired of seeing the same regurgitated leather posts every day, I've compiled and briefly debunked some of the most common myths peddled about leather and pleather… So hopefully we can all move on to talk about literally anything else.

1) Leather is not sustainable.

Approximately 85% of all leather (almost all leather you'll find in stores) is tanned using chromium. During the chrome tanning process, 40% of unused chromium salts are discharged in the final effluents, which makes it's way into waterways and poses a serious threat to wildlife and humans. There are also significant GHG emissions from the sheer amount of energy required to produce and tan leather.

Before we even get the cow's hide, you first need to get them to slaughter weight, which is a hugely resource-intensive process. Livestock accounts for 80% of all agricultural land use, and grazing land for cattle likely represents the majority of that figure. To produce 1 pound of beef (and the subsequent hide), 6-8 pounds of feed are required. An estimated 86% of the grain used to feed cattle is unfit for human consumption, but 14% alone represents enough food to feed millions of people. On top of that, one-third of the global water footprint of animal production is related to cattle alone. The leather industry uses greenwashing to promote leather as an eco-friendly material. Leather is often marketed as an eco-friendly product, for example, fashion brands often use the Leather Working Group (LWG) certificate to present their leather as sustainable. However, this certification (rather conveniently) does not include farm-level impacts, which constitute the majority of the negative environmental harm caused by leather.

2) Leather is not just a byproduct.

Some cows are raised speciifically for leather, but this a minority and usually represents the most expensive forms of leather. This does not mean that leather is just a waste product of beef and dairy, or that it is a completely incidental byproduct; it is more accurate to call leather a tertiary product of the beef and dairy industries. Hides used to fetch up to 50% of the total value of the carcass, this has dropped significantly since COVID-19 to only about 5-10%, but this is recovering, and still represents a significant profit margin. Globally, leather accounts for up to 26% of major slaughterhouses’ earnings. Leather is inextricably linked to the production of beef and dairy, and buying leather helps make the breeding, exploitation and slaughter of cows and steers a profitable enterprise.

3) Leather is not as biodegradable as you think.

Natural animal hides are biodegradable, and this is often the misleading way leather that sellers word it. "Cow hide is fully biodegradable" is absolutely true, it just purposely leaves out the fact that the tanning process means that the hide means that leather takes between 25 and 40 years to break down. Even the much-touted (despite it being a tiny portion of the market) vegetable-tanned leather is not readily biodegradable. Since leather is not recyclable either, most ends up incinerated, or at landfill. The end-of-life cycle and how it relates to sustainability is often massively overstated by leather sellers, when in fact, it is in the production process that most of the damage is done.

4) Leather is not humane.

The idea that leather represents some sort of morally neutral alternative to the evils of plastic is frankly laughable, at least to anyone who has done even a little bit of research into this exploitative and incredibly harmful industry. Cows, when properly cared for, can live more than fifteen years. However, most cows are usually slaughtered somewhere around 2-3 years old, and the softest leather, most luxurious leather comes from the hide of cows who are less than a year old. Some cows are not even born before they become victim to the industry. Estimates vary, but according to an EFSA report, on average 3% of dairy cows and 1.5 % of beef cattle, are in their third-trimester of pregnancy when they are slaughtered.

Slaughter procedures vary slightly by country, but a captive bolt pistol shot to the head followed by having their throats slit, while still alive, is standard industry practice. This represents the “best” a slaughtered cow can hope for, but many reports and videos exist that suggest that cows still being alive and conscious while being skinned or dismembered on the production line is not uncommon, some of these reports come from slaughterhouse workers themselves.

5) Leather often involves human exploitation.

The chemicals used to tan leather, and the toxic water that is a byproduct of tanning, affect workers as well as the environment; illness and death due to toxic tanning chemicals is extremely common. Workers across the sector have significantly higher morbidity, largely due to respiratory diseases linked to the chemicals used in the tanning process. Exposure to chromium (for workers and local communities), pentachlorophenol and other toxic pollutants increase the risk of dermatitis, ulcer nasal septum perforation and lung cancer.

Open Democracies report for the Child Labour Action Research Programme shows that there is a startlingly high prevalence of the worst forms of child labour across the entire leather supply chain. Children as young as seven have been found in thousands of small businesses processing leather. This problem is endemic throughout multiple countries supplying the global leather market.

6) Pleather is not a ‘vegan thing’.

Plastic clothing is ubiquitous in fast fashion, and it certainly wasn’t invented for vegans. Plastic leather jackets have been around since before anyone even knew what the word vegan meant, marketing department have begun describing it as ‘vegan leather’ but it’s really no more a vegan thing than polyester is. Most people who wear pleather are not vegan, they just can’t afford to buy cow’s leather, which remains extremely expensive compared to comparable fabrics.

It is striking how anti-vegans consistently talk about how ‘not everyone can afford to eat plant-based’ and criticise vegans for advocating for veganism on that basis, yet none of them seem to mind criticisms directed at people for wearing a far cheaper alternative than leather. You can obviously both be vegan and reduce plastic (as we all should), but vegans wear plastic clothing for the same reason everyone else does: It is cheaper.

7) Plastic is not the only alternative.

When engaging in criticism of pleather, the favourite tactic seems to be drawing a false dilemma where we pretend the only options are plastic and leather. Of course, this is a transparent attempt to draw the debate on lines favourable to advocates of leather, by omitting the fact that you can quite easily just buy neither one.

Alternatives include denim, hemp, cork, fiber, mushroom fiber, cotton, linen, bamboo, recycled plastic, and pinatex, to name a few. Alternatives exist for everything from materials designed to ensure sub-zero temperatures and specialist motorcycle equipment. There are exceptions in professions like welding, where an alternative can be difficult to source, but nobody needs a jacket, shoes or a bag that looks like leather. For most of us, leather is a luxury item that doesn’t even need to be replaced at all.

8) Leather is not uniquely long-lasting.

The longevity of leather is really the only thing it has going for it, environmentally speaking. Replacing an item less often means fewer purchases, and will likely have a lower environmental impact than one you have to replace regularly. Leather is not unique in this respect, however, and the idea that it is, is mostly just effective marketing.

As your parents will tell you, a well-made denim jacket can last a lifetime. Hemp and bamboo can both last for decades, as can cork and pinatex. Even cotton and linen can last for many years when items are looked after well. While some materials are more hard wearing than others, how long an item will last is mostly the result of how well made the product is and how well it is maintained, not whether or not the item is leather.

[alleyesony0u]

okay so piggybacking off my last post talking about the dehumanization aspect of becoming the champion. i have finally processed the evbo is god thing now and have thoughts. because evbo was so excited to be at the top, to have taken down the evil champion that he didn't even realize what he had lost. and now evbo has lost so much. he had lost the old man, then he lost his master friend who was teetering on the edge of death, and though he hated seawatt something must have rewired in his brain when he watched the parkour villain kill him, then it was all the noobs and all the pros, and then the house seller who he said was his friend. so when evbo finally encountered the parkour villain that final time, he had lost so much of what was keeping him human -- the people he hated, the people he loved, and the people who kept him going in his hardest moments. so he was unafraid to jump into the void, because he had lost all that and then, well, he was going to lose that race. he had lost himself. it was no wonder he became the parkour god. everything keeping him barely human that he had been clinging onto, whether he knew it or not, had been lost. evbo is still evbo, but he lost that innocence, that simplicity of being utterly, horribly human. evbo lost and so evbo became.

[thedensworld]

Sweet Truth | C.Sc

Pairing: gangster!Seungcheol x reader (ft. detective!Mingyu)

Genre: angst, fluff, action

Summary: The relationship become unstable and lot of things happened. It's time for truth to be revealed

Read Sweets Macaroons for the reference.

Seungcheol's head spun with dizziness as he tried to process the sudden turn of events. The revelation that one of his trusted people was actually a cop, spying on his every move, sent shockwaves through his organization. Now, they were forced to retreat and hide in a secretive location, while the authorities scoured Seoul in search of him.

Amidst the chaos and danger, Seungcheol's thoughts were torn. On one hand, he had to ensure the safety of his people, protect his organization from crumbling under the weight of betrayal. On the other hand, tonight was his anniversary with his girlfriend, you. He had promised to be there, to celebrate your love together.

But as the pressure mounted and the stakes grew higher, he realized that fulfilling both promises seemed impossible. His heart ached with the weight of responsibility, torn between loyalty to his people and love for you. He wanted nothing more than to be by your side, to hold you close and forget about the dangers lurking in the shadows. Yet, the reality of their situation loomed large, forcing him to make difficult decisions.

Seungcheol found himself holed up in their secret sanctuary with Jeonghan and a handful of trusted allies, their presence providing a thin veil of security in the midst of uncertainty. With only a burner phone in hand, he refrained from reaching out to you, knowing the danger it could pose if the authorities traced any connection between you and him. His heart weighed heavy with concern for your safety, yet he couldn't risk putting you in harm's way.

He trusted Jun to check on you, knowing that you would likely still be at your bakery, preparing to close for the night. Jun, once a trusted member of your staff, had been tasked with a different mission—keeping you safe without your knowledge. After you discovered this, Seungcheol had swiftly ordered him to cease all surveillance on you and resign from his position. It was a bitter pill to swallow, realizing that he couldn't get any updates anymore about your daily activities.

For four agonizing months, Seungcheol had been living in the shadows, cut off from any information about you except what you shared directly with him. The void of not knowing gnawed at him day and night, tormenting him with thoughts of your safety and well-being. His life had become a constant dance with danger, ever since the fateful transaction with the Chinese drug seller that had put him squarely in the crosshairs of the law.

The constant threat of being hunted by the authorities cast a dark shadow over every aspect of his existence, tainting even his most cherished moments with you. Gone were the days of carefree meetings and stolen kisses. Now, every interaction was tinged with the heavy weight of survival, as Seungcheol remained on high alert, vigilant against any sign of danger that might threaten both himself and you.

The once vibrant connection between you now felt strained, suffocated by the secrecy and paranoia that enveloped his world. Seungcheol longed to hold you close, to share in the simple joys of your love without the looming specter of his illicit industry hanging over them. But deep down, he knew that exposing you to his dangerous world was a risk he could never justify. The thought of putting you in harm's way was unbearable, and so he kept you at arm's length, shielding you from the darkness that consumed him, even as it tore him apart inside.

"Hyung, Jun has sent an update about Y/n," Jeonghan said, passing Seungcheol his tablet so he could read the message for himself. Seungcheol's breath caught in his throat as he scanned Jun's message. It hinted that you might be returning home earlier than usual, prompting Jun to head to your apartment. Frustration twisted his features as he absorbed the information, a knot of anxiety forming in his chest.

The thought of you potentially arriving home earlier, expecting to find him waiting there, sent a pang of guilt coursing through Seungcheol. He cursed under his breath, torn between the desire to see you and the fear of putting you in harm's way. With each passing moment, the weight of his double life pressed down on him, suffocating him with the knowledge that his actions could endanger the person he loved most.

As he awaited further updates from Jun, Seungcheol couldn't shake the gnawing sense of unease that gripped him, knowing that every decision he made could have devastating consequences for both himself and you. As Seungcheol and Jeonghan calmly discussed their next strategy, a sudden interruption shattered the peace—a phone call from Jun. Seungcheol's heart leaped into his throat as he swiftly abandoned the conversation and answered the call.

His eyes widened in shock as he listened intently to Jun's words, every syllable sending a jolt of adrenaline coursing through his veins. "Kim Mingyu took her," Jun's voice crackled over the line, each word striking Seungcheol like a physical blow. He felt his muscles tense involuntarily as the gravity of the situation sank in. Mingyu, a rival in their world, was not to be underestimated, and the thought of him having you in his grasp sent a chill down Seungcheol's spine.

With a sense of urgency gripping him, Seungcheol rose from his seat, his mind racing as he processed Jun's report. Mingyu's actions threatened not only you but also the delicate balance of power within their underworld. As he listened to Jun's account of the events unfolding, Seungcheol's emotions roiled within him—a potent mix of fear, anger, and determination.

In that moment, everything else faded into the background as Seungcheol's sole focus became the safety of the person he loved. With a steely resolve hardening his features, he knew that he would stop at nothing to ensure your return, even if it meant facing off against his most dangerous adversaries.

"Kim Mingyu, the stupid cop!" Seungcheol's voice seethed with anger, his fists clenching at the mention of his rival's name. The audacity of Mingyu's actions, resorting to kidnapping to further his agenda, ignited a fierce determination within Seungcheol. "So this is how he wants to play the game? By kidnapping her?" Seungcheol's words dripped with disdain, his mind already calculating his next move. Mingyu had chosen the wrong opponent, Seungcheol vowed silently to himself, his resolve hardening with each passing second.

Seungcheol's heart plummeted as Jeonghan's phone rang, the sudden intrusion breaking the tense silence that hung in the air. With a sense of foreboding, he watched as Jeonghan's expression shifted from confusion to alarm upon seeing the caller ID.

"It's Mingyu," Jeonghan announced, his voice tight with apprehension as he answered the call. Seungcheol's grip tightened on the edge of the table, his knuckles white with tension as he waited for Jeonghan to relay the message.

The air seemed to grow heavy as Jeonghan's eyes widened in shock, his breath catching in his throat as he listened to the voice on the other end of the line. Seungcheol's heart pounded in his chest, the anticipation of Mingyu's words gnawing at him like a relentless predator.

"What does he want?" Seungcheol demanded, his voice edged with thinly veiled hostility as he leaned in closer, desperate for any shred of information.

Jeonghan's hand trembled slightly as he held the phone to his ear, his brow furrowed in concentration as he strained to make out the words. Suddenly, his eyes widened in horror as he held the phone out for Seungcheol to see.

"It's a picture," Jeonghan whispered, his voice barely above a whisper as he turned the screen to face Seungcheol. The color drained from Seungcheol's face as he stared at the image displayed on the screen—a chilling snapshot of you, lying unconscious in the back of a car, your face pale and lifeless.

The world seemed to tilt on its axis as Seungcheol processed the sight before him. Mingyu's sinister message was clear—your safety hung in the balance, a pawn in his twisted game of cat and mouse.

A surge of fury coursed through Seungcheol's veins as he clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms with barely restrained rage. Mingyu had crossed a line, and there would be hell to pay for his audacity.

"Where is he?" Seungcheol's voice was low and dangerous, his eyes blazing with a fiery intensity as he fixed his gaze on Jeonghan. Every fiber of his being screamed for retribution, for swift and merciless justice to be served.

Jeonghan swallowed hard, his own expression mirroring Seungcheol's steely resolve. "He didn't say," he replied, his voice tinged with frustration as he relayed Mingyu's cryptic message.

Seungcheol's jaw clenched as he processed the information, his mind racing with possibilities. Mingyu may have thought he held the upper hand, but Seungcheol was not one to be underestimated. He would stop at nothing to ensure your safe return, even if it meant facing off against his most formidable adversary yet.

With a sense of grim determination, Seungcheol knew that the time for waiting and hesitation was over. Mingyu had made his move, and now it was Seungcheol's turn to play the game. And this time, he would play to win, no matter the cost.

*

You are innocent, that's what Seungcheol needed Mingyu to know. As his mind divided into two, his people and you, Jeonghan approached him with urgent news – Mingyu was on the line. Seungcheol wasted no time, seizing the phone and pressing it to his ear, the weight of impending danger bearing down on him.

A scream, muffled yet unmistakable, pierced through the phone, seizing Seungcheol's heart in a vise-like grip. Mingyu's laughter followed, chilling and sinister, as he issued his ultimatum: "Come to me or I kill her."

Seungcheol's eyes squeezed shut in anguish as he uttered his defiant response, his voice trembling with a mixture of fear and resolve. "No police should harm an innocent citizen."

Mingyu's laughter grew more derisive, his taunts cutting deeper with each cruel word. "She dated you, Seungcheol. How can you be so sure she's innocent?"

Seungcheol's jaw clenched, his resolve hardening as he fired back, "She doesn't know anything about my job."

But Mingyu's retort was swift and cutting, a cold reminder of the tangled web of deceit they were ensnared in. "Oh, she may not know now," Mingyu sneered, "but she'll lead you straight to me soon enough."

A desperate cry tore through the phone, your voice echoing with terror and pleading. "No! Don't come find me!"

Seungcheol's heart clenched at the sound, a swell of guilt and anguish washing over him. What had Mingyu told you about him? Had he already poisoned your mind against him with his lies?

As doubt gnawed at his resolve, Seungcheol knew one thing for certain – he would stop at nothing to protect you, even if it meant confronting the darkest shadows of his past.

"Can I talk to her?" Seungcheol pleaded with Mingyu, desperation lacing his tone. Jeonghan, who watched the whole scene unfold, gasped in surprise. For the first time, he witnessed his formidable superior pleading to someone else.

"Seungcheol..." he heard you whimper his name breathlessly. "Don't you dare come to me..."

Seungcheol sighed heavily, his heart twisting with worry. "How can I not come to you? You're in danger, baby."

"I'll be fine," you said, but Seungcheol didn't buy it. He could hear the tremor in your voice, the underlying fear that threatened to consume you.

"Kim Mingyu..." Seungcheol's words were cut off as the phone call abruptly ended. Kim Mingyu was a menace, a ruthless cop who stopped at nothing to achieve his goals. Seungcheol knew that all too well.

Mingyu's vendetta against Seungcheol stemmed from one simple fact – Seungcheol held a crucial piece of evidence, a file that exposed Mingyu's ties to the Russian organization, Klinok. This organization was notorious for its involvement in drug trafficking and human exploitation, and Mingyu would go to any lengths to protect his secrets.

Seungcheol clenched his fists, frustration simmering beneath the surface. Mingyu's interference threatened not only his own safety but also yours, dragging you into a dangerous game neither of you asked to play.

As Seungcheol paced the room, his mind raced with thoughts of how to outmaneuver Mingyu and protect you from harm. But with Mingyu holding all the cards, Seungcheol knew he had to tread carefully.

Jeonghan watched his superior with a mixture of concern and admiration. Despite the dire circumstances, Seungcheol remained steadfast in his determination to keep you safe. It was a side of Seungcheol that few had seen – vulnerable yet resolute, willing to risk everything for the person he loved.

With Mingyu's threat looming over them, Seungcheol knew that time was running out. He needed to find a way to outsmart Mingyu and rescue you from harm's way before it was too late. But as the minutes ticked by, the weight of uncertainty pressed down on him, threatening to crush his resolve.

"Jeonghan," Seungcheol called out, his voice tinged with urgency, "I need you to help me with a big favor."

Jeonghan turned to face Seungcheol, his expression reflecting a mix of curiosity and concern as he awaited further instruction. "What should I do?" he asked, ready to lend his support in whatever way necessary.

"I need you to handle everything," Seungcheol began, his tone grave and serious. "I need you to choose your assistants carefully."

Jeonghan's brow furrowed in confusion. "What?" he mumbled, struggling to comprehend the gravity of Seungcheol's request.

"I need you to cover for me," Seungcheol clarified, turning to face Jeonghan directly. "I can't do this anymore."

As the weight of Seungcheol's words settled over them, Jeonghan couldn't believe what he was hearing. Seungcheol, the formidable leader of their organization, was entrusting him with the responsibility of leading in his absence. It was a momentous decision, one that Jeonghan never anticipated.

"Seungcheol, are you sure about this?" Jeonghan asked, his voice filled with uncertainty. "I mean, I'm honored, but..."

Seungcheol placed a reassuring hand on Jeonghan's shoulder, his expression grave yet resolute. "I trust you, Jeonghan," he said firmly. "You have the strength and the wisdom to lead in my stead. I wouldn't ask this of you if I didn't believe in you."

Jeonghan felt a surge of emotion welling up inside him. To be entrusted with such a significant responsibility by someone he respected and admired meant more to him than words could express. He nodded, determination shining in his eyes.

"I won't let you down, Seungcheol," Jeonghan vowed, his voice filled with conviction. "I'll do whatever it takes to protect our organization and keep our people safe."

Seungcheol nodded, a small yet appreciative smile gracing his lips. "I know you will, Jeonghan," he said, his tone filled with confidence. "Now, go. Our people need you."

With a final nod of acknowledgment, Jeonghan turned and set off to fulfill the daunting task that lay ahead. As he stepped into his new role, he knew that he had big shoes to fill. But with Seungcheol's faith in him as his guiding light, Jeonghan was ready to rise to the challenge and lead their organization into a new era.

*

Seungcheol drove to the address Mingyu had sent him, his knuckles white as he gripped the steering wheel. He couldn't believe that a police officer could stoop to such despicable acts. Not that Seungcheol hadn't done his fair share of questionable deeds, but he had never crossed certain lines. Yet, here he was, forced to confront the dark reality of Mingyu's actions.

As he navigated the streets of Seoul, memories of his past deeds weighed heavily on Seungcheol's mind. He had never claimed to be a good person – far from it. But seeing you, with your unwavering love and adoration, had stirred something deep within him. It had made him question the path he had chosen, and whether he could ever truly leave behind the life of crime he had embraced for so long.

Before the chaos ensued, Seungcheol had been meticulously planning the organization's future, laying the groundwork for a smooth transition before he announced his retirement. It was a decision fueled not only by his desire to settle down with you but also by a newfound sense of responsibility and a longing for redemption.

As he neared the address Mingyu had provided, Seungcheol's heart raced with a mixture of anticipation and dread. He knew that confronting Mingyu would be dangerous, but he was willing to risk it all for the chance to rescue you from harm's way. With each passing moment, the weight of his decisions pressed down on him, threatening to consume him with doubt and uncertainty.

But as he pulled up to the designated location, determination hardened in Seungcheol's eyes. No matter the outcome, he would stop at nothing to ensure your safety and bring an end to Mingyu's reign of terror. With a deep breath, he stepped out of the car and prepared to face whatever lay ahead.

Seungcheol entered the old building, his senses on high alert as he scanned his surroundings. The dimly lit corridors were eerily quiet, save for the occasional creaking of floorboards beneath his feet. His heart pounded in his chest as he took in the sight of several unconscious bodies strewn across the floor, a chilling reminder of the danger that lurked within.

With each step he took, Seungcheol's worry for your safety intensified. He couldn't bear the thought of anything happening to you, not when you were so close, yet so far from his reach. Determination flared within him as he pushed forward, his mind focused solely on finding you and bringing you back to safety.

As he ascended the staircase to the floor above, the sound of voices grew louder, mingling with the unmistakable echoes of struggle and conflict. Seungcheol's instincts kicked into overdrive as he hastened his pace, his muscles tense with anticipation.

Seungcheol froze in his tracks, the sound of the gunshot echoing through the corridors like a thunderclap. Dread washed over him, threatening to paralyze him with fear as he contemplated the possibility of Mingyu harming you. His heart pounded in his chest, each beat a painful reminder of the stakes at hand.

For a moment, Seungcheol's mind raced with a million possibilities, each one more terrifying than the last. His breath caught in his throat as he braced himself for what he might find on the other side of that door. But amidst the chaos of his thoughts, one thing remained clear – he couldn't afford to hesitate. Not when your life hung in the balance.

With a steely resolve, Seungcheol pushed open the door, bracing himself for the unknown. But what greeted him was far from the worst nightmare he had imagined. Mingyu lay on the floor, wounded, while you stood beside him, gun in hand, your eyes reflecting a mixture of relief and urgency.

Beside you stood Seungkwan, your baker, his expression mirroring yours as he held his own weapon tightly. Seungcheol's mind reeled at the sight, trying to process the unexpected turn of events unfolding before him.

As your eyes met his, you wasted no time in rushing to his side, gripping his hand firmly and gesturing for him to follow. Seungcheol's confusion gave way to a deep sense of trust in you, and he followed your lead without hesitation, his instincts telling him that you knew what needed to be done.

"We're just gonna leave Seungkwan?" Seungcheol's voice trembled with uncertainty as he glanced back at the injured baker.

You nodded reassuringly, motioning for him to get into the car while you took the driver's seat. Seungcheol's mind was spinning with questions as he settled into the passenger seat. Since when could you drive? It was just one of the many revelations that tonight had brought.

As you drove with determination, Seungcheol's thoughts raced, trying to make sense of the whirlwind of events. How had you survived? How had you managed to shoot Mingyu? And why was Seungkwan there?

Lost in his thoughts, Seungcheol barely registered your voice as you spoke beside him. He turned to you, his eyes filled with a mixture of disbelief and concern. "You okay, baby?" you asked, your words cutting through the chaos in his mind.

Seungcheol was taken aback. Wasn't it supposed to be his line, reassuring you that everything would be okay now that he had saved you from Mingyu? But the roles seemed to have reversed, leaving him bewildered and uncertain.

You guided Seungcheol to a building, and he followed you inside, his senses on high alert. Once you were safely indoors, Seungcheol pulled you into his embrace, relief flooding through him as he held you close.

"I'm glad you're fine," he whispered, his voice barely above a murmur, feeling the tension drain from his body.

You chuckled softly, your breath warm against his chest. "Didn't I say it on the phone call that I'll be fine?" you murmured, tightening the hug as if to reassure him once more.

Seungcheol couldn't help but smile at your words, but his curiosity gnawed at him. "What happened?" he asked, his tone gentle yet demanding, a silent plea for the truth.

And as you began to explain, Seungcheol realized that he wasn't the only one with secrets.

*

"Welcome to Sweetie..." Your cheerful voice faded once you realized who had entered your shop. Your former superior, Hong Jisoo, and your colleague Seungkwan stood there, exuding an air of calm and collected confidence. It was clear from their composed demeanor that they had expected to find you here.

"It's been a long time, Agent Sweet," Director Hong said, smiling as he took a seat at one of the tables.

You were relieved that the shop was empty, with Jun out on an errand to the market, getting your weekly stock filled. The timing, at least, was fortunate.

You sighed, maintaining a polite smile. "Is there any sweet that you prefer? We have the viral Cromboloni here," you said, trying to keep up the pretense of normalcy, as if he wasn’t someone you had worked with for half of your life.

Seungkwan walked to the door and flipped the open sign to closed. You opened the drawer under the cashier machine, reaching for the box inside where your gun was stored. Jisoo cleared his throat and signaled Seungkwan to join him.

"Can we have two Americanos and two of those Cromboloni, please?" Jisoo asked, his tone deceptively casual.

You silently took your gun and tucked it into your apron pocket. Noting their order, you began to prepare the coffees and desserts. As you placed the desserts in the microwave, the reflection in the microwave's door showed Seungkwan moving towards you. Reacting instantly, you dropped the dessert, pulled out your gun, and pointed it directly at his forehead.

The sight made Jisoo smile with satisfaction. "Still got those instincts, Y/n," he remarked, standing up from his seat. He gently lowered your gun from Seungkwan's forehead. "Let's not make a mess. Your boyfriend wouldn't like it."

Your gaze shifted to Jisoo, eyes narrowing. "You've been tracking my boyfriend?"

Jisoo shrugged nonchalantly. "He's not exactly hard to find. A bit popular, isn't he?"

There was a pregnant silence before Jisoo finally confessed the true reason for their visit. "We want you to come back," he started. "Our team needs you. We’ve been in a state of emergency since you left."

You put your gun back into your pocket, then bent down to clean up the dessert you had dropped. "You’re the only person who knows why I’m not coming back, Director Hong," you said, your voice laced with frustration.

Jisoo sighed and gestured for Seungkwan to sit back at the table while he spoke to you. "Listen, Y/n, we all need you. The country needs you. You were in the field for 15 years. You’re the only one who can do this."

"Why? Why am I the only one?" you demanded, standing up and looking Jisoo directly in the eyes.

"Because you’re S.Coups's lover," Jisoo reasoned.

You sighed, "That's the exact reason I left this job," you whispered, ensuring Seungkwan couldn't overhear your conversation.

Two years ago, you were assigned to investigate Yoon Jeonghan, a man rumored to be running the largest illegal weapons industry. This bakery was a front, strategically placed near their operations. During your investigation, you discovered that Yoon Jeonghan was just a right-hand man. Then you met Seungcheol, who frequented your bakery a little too often. He asked for your number and managed to distract you from your mission. Soon, you learned that Yoon Jeonghan worked for Choi Seungcheol, the real S.Coups.

You were assigned to capture them, but you refused and left the job before officially dating Seungcheol. Despite leaving the agency, you sensed someone was still spying on you. Boo Seungkwan, your junior, had been watching you under Jisoo’s orders..

"We don't want S.Coups," Jisoo exclaimed. "We need Klinok." He began to explain, his voice grave. "Klinok has been taking over the industry for years, and if they get their hands on weapons, we'll be in big trouble."

"Klinok has been targeting S.Coups since earlier this year. We need to save him; he has the critical data we need to bring Klinok down."

You were baffled by the revelation. "Are you serious?" you asked Jisoo, your mind racing.

Jisoo nodded solemnly. "That's why I said you're the only one who can do this."

"Seungkwan will help you. He'll apply as a baker here. He's quite good at it," Jisoo added, glancing at Seungkwan.

Seungkwan scoffed, "Excuse me, I'm not 'quite good.' I'm very good at baking."

Jisoo chuckled before turning his focus back to you. "It's your choice, Y/n."

You stood there, weighing your options. The peaceful life you had carved out was slipping away, replaced by the dangerous world you had tried to leave behind. But if Seungcheol was in danger and you had the power to help, how could you refuse?

Taking a deep breath, you looked Jisoo in the eye. "Alright, I'll do it. But remember, Seungcheol's safety is my top priority."

Jisoo nodded, a look of relief washing over his face. "Understood. We'll do everything we can to protect him."

You glanced at Seungkwan, who gave you a reassuring nod. "Guess we're in this together, then," you said, a determined glint in your eye.

*

"Baby..." Seungcheol brushed a strand of hair away from your face as he listened to your explanation, his voice barely above a whisper. He struggled to process all the revelations. "So you knew I was hiding my work from you?" he asked, feeling a pang of guilt.

You nodded, reaching for his hand. "It's not like I wasn't hiding something either. So we're even," you said with a gentle smile, trying to ease his heavy heart.

He pulled you into his embrace again, rubbing your back and whispering, "I'm just glad you're okay. That could have been so dangerous, baby..."

You chuckled softly. "I've been doing this for half of my life, love. Danger is nothing new to me."

"Still," he insisted, "what if Mingyu had done something to you?"

You smiled at his concern and pecked his lips. "It was anticipated. Kim Mingyu has been working with Klinok for a long time, and he's been seen around my bakery this month. He was definitely trying to get to you by using me."

Seungcheol cupped your cheeks, rubbing them softly. He kissed your forehead with so much affection before pulling you into another embrace. "Thank you for saving me," he said, his voice filled with emotion. "And I'm sorry that I've been hiding all of this."

You held him tightly, feeling the warmth of his body against yours. "We're in this together now," you whispered. "No more secrets."

He nodded, resting his chin on your head. "No more secrets," he echoed, his voice resolute.

In that moment, despite the chaos and uncertainty, you both felt a sense of peace. You had each other, and that was all that mattered. Together, you could face anything.

Ring

"That must be Seungkwan," Seungcheol said, pulling away and ending the make-out session you were enjoying before the night could end.

You groaned and picked up the call. "Agent Sweet speaking," you answered, your tone clearly upset. Seungkwan could easily detect your annoyance.

"Klinok is on his way to the harbor. He expects Kim Mingyu in an hour. Let's catch him," Seungkwan informed you, and you immediately ended the call.

"I'm sorry, baby. But work is calling," you mumbled while buttoning up your shirt and ensuring you had your weapon and necessary gear.

Seungcheol watched you from the couch, a smile playing on his lips. "You look hot like this," he remarked.

You smiled back, "Baby," you called him, "I look hot whether I'm wearing an apron or carrying a gun." You leaned in and kissed him on the lips.

"I'll be back. Wait for me, okay?" you said, your voice filled with determination and affection.

Seungcheol nodded, his eyes filled with pride and concern. "Be careful," he whispered, knowing that you were about to step into a dangerous situation, but also knowing that there was no one more capable than you.

[mollbabyy]

celebrating palestinian science

in the face of israels' targetting of scholars, scientists and intellectuals...

saw a tumblr post by @/anarchistfrogposting that got me heavythinking about the relevance of language and culture in chemistry and science, it's unfortunate english has been accepted as its' lingua franca and most other input is lost to the globalization of this change. formulae and structure are essential and in a subject so specific, the average chemist will need to memorize hundreds of chemistry-specific words, and it becomes a barrier past entry when direct translating gets murky. deconstructing the history of science will always lead to political waters as the politicization of science and populist anti-intellectualism ethos rooted itself since the beginning of the study and these implicit biases result in a lack of consensus amongst borders.

before wwi the geographical spread of language in science was much more diverse, a lot of french and german researchers were common in research publishing, but after the allies established new scientific institutions that excluded germans and the isolationist decades that followed suit, foreign-language education was reductionist and excised globally as a result of elitism, being a language considered spoken only 'by the educated'. english-language proficiency is undeniably a prerequisite when an inexaggerated count of 99% of natural science papers are published in english, starting since 2015. this is a /heavily/ debated and discoursed topic and is terribly intimidating to sink your teeth into because of globalization of english and the complexity of modern language but getting over this hurdle will blossom a culturally rich rabbit hole to go down and it is all super interesting. there is so much great palestinian scientific practices, not as in western scientists work imagined in palestinian hands, but palestinian-born theories and practices. i think it's really integral, to always, but especially during times like these to uplift the people of palestine and their beauty just as much as funnel hatred toward their oppressors and murderers.

==

[image ID: a lineup of various glass pots and vases, ranging in color and size, placed in front of a plain background. end]

this is a specific sort of glass called 'hebron glass' which is an extremely renowned palestinian practice and passed down traditionally through multiple families and businesses. dating back as far as the 100~s in BCE, their technique of glassblowing was far ahead of their time and not used commonly anywhere else until much further in BCE. the /exact/ practice of hebron glass is kept a family secret amongst palestinian businesses, but a metal tool called 'kammasha' is used to blow the glass. a palestinian artisan talks about the process in more length here, i would recommend doing extended reading directly from palestine:

the colors are so vibrant and beautiful, i am endlessly impressed by how elegant these pieces have been made since the middle ages. these pieces and techniques have inspired a lot of famous modern day forms of glassblowing and glass artistry, most notably the venetian glass of venice.

i include this under science as much as it is art because it often goes unseen how much temperature and calculation goes into this craft. its highly skilled and intense work to bend over the hot flames and handle the glass in such a vulnerable state that could easily shatter. the material is more than 1800F and the palestinian kammasha is very carefully timed.

==

[image ID: an online video call meeting titled 'School on Synchrotron Light Sources and their Applications' at the top. end]

what you're looking at right now is the SESAME initiative run by the international centre for theoretical physics. a famous alumnus of this school was sufyan tayeh, a palestinian scientist. he was a prominent researcher and mentor and advocate for international understanding through science, introducing: SESAME, an alternative vision for the future of peaceful coexistence and cooperation and offered a meeting point around the globe to speak the common language of science, making communication possible. sufyan tayeh was an inspiration and bridge builder for all of these young students and an entry point for future scientists. he was a winner of multiple awards for his contributions to science and was appointed chair man for UNESCO (united nations educational, scientific and cultural organization) and head of physical, astrophysical and space sciences in palestine. he was regarded as a leading researched in science and applied mathematics globally, and tragically was killed in the current genocide. this is one case of many, many palestinian researchers. the impact of their contributions are insurmountable and irreplaceable.

==

[image ID: a list documenting the 45 palestinian scholars killed by israel since october 7th: Sufian Tayeh, Mohammad Eid Shubair, Omar Ferwana, Taysir Ibrahim, Ibrahim Hamed, Naeim Baroud, Azou Afana, Mohammad Bakhit, Mahmoud Abu Daf, Salem Abu Mukhda, Mohammad Abu Asaad, Osama Al-Muzayni, Refaat Al-Areer, Wael Al-Zard, Ismail Abu Saada, Khaled Al-Ramlawi, Mohammad Al-Najjar, Saeed Al-Dahshan, Raed Qudura, Mohammad Abu Zour, Yousseff Jameh Salameh, Nidaa Afana, Moumen Shweidah, Saeed Al-Zabdeh, Saqid Nasaar, Ahmed Abu Saada, Mohammad Jameel Al-Zaaneen, Ismail Al-Ghamari, Razq Ali Arouq, Walid Al-Amoudi, Abdullah Al-Amoudi, Hassan Al-Radi, Mohammand Abu Amara, Mohammad Al-Louh, Khaled Al-Najjar, Sharif Al-Asli, Mohammad Hassouneh, Yassar Hdeib Ridwan, Jihad Al-Baz, Hazem Al-Jamali, Nasser Al-Yafaoui, and Jihad Al-Masri. end]

==

the fabric gauze was also invented in palestine. if you've ever stepped foot in a labratory, you will know what this is lol. used in surgery and in chemical labs for multiple functions: separating liquids and gases, strain acids from bases, filter substances at extreme temperatures, prevent contamination, and to treat water. it is also used to diffuse heat and help protect glassware, seriously, these guys influence in glassware was HUGE. i think glass would still be sand without palestinian input.

i've set this post just up as a basis summary of the sciences, i would love to give an add-on going more indepth into the scientific process of some examples i gave and also in the history of palestinian scholars listed above.. when i get the time! but i hope this was an apt introduction! may good things come in 2024. feel free to recommend things i should check out or correct. OH OH also there is a lot of palestinian sci-fi.. 'divine intervention' and 'the second war of the dog' are both good, iirc they won the international prize for arabic fiction. just random things i found while looking up things for this post haha but they're good

[happilychee]

how good I think fairy tail characters are at traveling pt. 1

♡ gray fullbuster -> he's calm and reliable; he'll check the route before the trip and always have a map on hand to make sure you're going the right way. overall a 9/10 experience. -1 point because he doesn't make time to stop and look at trinkets >:(

*this is if you're traveling just with him though. if you add basically anyone else, including natsu, cana, loke, or lucy, gray will become completely distracted and you might never get to your destination.

♡ erza scarlet -> she'll get you to your destination. you might obtain life-altering trauma, bury a body, and become a local eldtritch legend, but you will get to your destination. 8/10 if you don't mind coming out of the experience Changed.

♡ mirajane strauss -> this can go one of two ways. if you're with other people, mira goes into Big Sister Mode, and you will get to your destination with minimal shenanigans. she does factor in Trinket Time, so overall a 10/10 experience. if it's just mira, though, prepare to go on a spiritual rollercoaster. no plans, no tickets, no maps, just vibes. mira likes to explore new towns and cities without worrying about a schedule or keeping track of other people. she has disappeared for a week straight to just wander around fiore. it's about the journey, not the destination, y'know?

♡ lucy heartfilia -> this poor girl isn't directionally challenged but she is financially challenged. will accidentally spend your train money on a cute necklace in whatever town you're stopping in. she's a good travel companion, willing to socialize with the locals and find out the best sight-seeing and restaurant spots. allocates a bit too much time for Trinkets. you'll probably arrive at your destination with empty pockets but full hearts (and shopping bags.) a 7.5/10, could be higher or lower depending on how much you value your wallet.

♡ natsu dragneel -> just give up. if he doesn't scoop you up in his arms as happy flies the two of you in the completely wrong direction, natsu's probably wandering off without you. gets distracted by everything: food, shiny objects, bickering people. you're working double time to get to your destination in one piece AND not lose natsu in the process. a 4/10 that can be upgraded to a 6 or 7 if you buy him a fire-resistant leash backpack.

♡ sting eucliffe -> surprisingly, he's the one coordinating your trip. all cheery smiles and lighthearted jokes, he makes it look easy. you don't even know what train you're getting on or how long the ride is, you just trust sting. he's charming everyone: the train conductor, the old ladies at the market stalls, the young ticket seller at the station. all of that completely disappears once you get on the train and sting is reduced to a nauseous puddle of dragon slayer. 10/10 experience as long as he doesn't throw up on you <2

♡ gajeel levy and pantherlily -> where's gajeel? you don't know. he was supposed to be at the station half an hour ago, he won't answer his lacrima, he's gone off the map. don't worry, though, levy and pantherlily will keep you company. 2/10 for gajeel. the worst part is, he shows up at your destination before you! he didn't even take the train or fly with lily! he's just... there somehow.

[dharmafox]

WAIT. THOUGHT.

This just kind of ambushed me on waking up, so forgive any incoherency.

@purplealmonds You noticed the moth pattern on the Nusu watch, which is also on the inside of his medicine chest, and you said that Nusu could be "the moth to Kusu's butterfly," and that both moths and butterflies represented the souls of the living and the dead.

In "Umi Bozu," Kayo asks the Medicine Seller if ayakashi are the ghosts of dead people. Genyousai said that some are. And the Medicine Sellers definitely seem to be ayakashi; at least, they sure look like it. They definitely aren't just human guys.

I could never quite work out how Kusu might be the ghost of a dead person, but now we know things we didn't. Nakamura-san talked in the latest video about how one becomes a Medicine Seller when they're given a god's sword and effectively told, "Hey, you're a Medicine Seller now." And the new lore page said that the "seat of the collected selves" from which the Medicine Sellers originate is the place from which all things are born and to which all return. It's where you go when you die and it's where you return from when you're born.

So maybe that's when one becomes a Medicine Seller—when they die. A human (or multiple humans? something to get into later) might die and travel back to the "seat" where life and death meet, meet a god and be granted the sword, and then be born back into the world as a Medicine Seller.

In effect, when they were humans, they were in a chrysalis, and when they die and are reborn, they hatch into moths and butterflies. I said a bit in this post about this birth and death process being equivalent to transformation, which is also symbolized by moths and butterflies.

I also talked a little about wells as portals between places or worlds. (I thought of another anime yesterday that uses this metaphor: Haibane Renmei, which in particular implies that the well is a passageway between life and death.) And wells are central to both Medicine Sellers' first stories.

The implication might be that in these initial stories, the Medicine Sellers themselves were just born into the world—or reborn, for the first time, as a Medicine Sellers.

(There also seems to be more than just an implication that the mononoke in both these stories were also born from the wells, which raises some interesting questions about just how closely the appearance of the Medicine Sellers and the emergence of the mononoke are linked.)

[drarryspecificrecs]

2024.02  ~ Top 6 longest fics posted on AO3

1. The Stag and the Dragon: The School of Witchcraft and Wizardry by Jesse_James [T, 180k]

►On the night of October 31st 1980, in an attempt to subvert prophecy, The Dark Lord Voldemort launches a pair of attacks to rid him of the one chosen to defeat him. But when one fails, the world is changed forever. But in this universe, things are different. The rules are not always the same. And things will not always be as we remember. And with a different choice made with a young orphaned Harry's future, the consequences of this one act will echo across fate. /// Meanwhile, in a different family, another boy struggles against what he is, and what he was born to be. All while his father seems to orchestrate more than just his life.

2. Empty Spaces by nori_mari [T, 125k]

►What do you do when everything you know comes to an end? The battle is over, Voldemort's gone, everything they ever wanted has come to pass. So why is it so hard to return to a “normal” life? How does one simply pick up the pieces and move on? When your entire life and identity have revolved around this one thing for so long… what do you do you have left of yourself when that one thing is over?

3. Papa Needs Daddy's Help by @amillionregrets [E, 94k]

►Harry's life revolves entirely around work these days, and he's deeply engrossed in it, as usual, when an urgent fire-call from Ron abruptly turns his world upside down. Apparently, a four-year-old girl with emerald eyes and long black hair has shown up at Ron's shop, claiming to be Harry's daughter and seeking his help to save her papa.

4. The Boy from the Piano Shop by @soliblomst [M, 90k]  *typo

►After going blind in a reckless attempt to avenge Ginny's death, Harry battles with severe depression. One day, he stumbles upon a quaint piano restoration shop in the heart of London and meets the owner, a kindly old man, and his introverted young apprentice, whose voice sounds strangely familiar. As Harry and Draco slowly reconnect through private piano lessons, the small workshop becomes Harry's refuge, offering him a glimmer of hope in a world without eyes.

5. An Addendum For Depressed Authors by @queenie-jinny [E, 86k]

►‘The Misadventures of Harrison Portier’ six-part book series by J.E.P has been on the Daily Prophet’s best sellers list for 177 weeks straight, despite the author’s insistent anonymity and continuing avoidance of the public eye. After a long hiatus, the elusive final novel in the septology is about to hit the shelves, and Draco Malfoy, avid reader of the series and self-proclaimed number one fan (a proclamation he’d made to absolutely none save for himself), is determined to be the first person to read it. When the epilogue of the book leaves much to be desired, Draco has no choice but to take matters into his own hands. Thus begins a stormy correspondence that threatens to disrupt Harry’s hard-earned peaceful routine and maybe change his life in the process.

6. Draco's Splendid Decisions by @jocundasykes [E, 69k]

►Stuck in the doldrums of a rubbish summer holiday, an unexpected invitation beckons you back to the halls of Hogwarts for an eighth year. Should you go, and endure another round of academia? Dive into the mundane drudgery of work? Or escape it all with an international getaway? /// You're a free man. What happens next is up to you.

—

※ Word count: 1k ~ 10k

※ Word count: 10k ~ 40k

alive is a color you don't own by sectumsempra [E, 15k]

armstrong limit by @brosamigos [E, 11k]

Crossed Wires by @skeptiquewrites [E, 11k]

Enclosed is a Memory by Anonymous [M, 12k]

I'll Find You Again (I Always Do) by @dodgerkedavra [E, 15k]

The Month of Giving by Justlikewriting [M, 20k]

Nobody Except For You by @mistsound [T, 10k]

Oh, Overwhelming Passion and Seduction by AtelierOfStories [E, 19k]

These Old Feelings by Reloumi [E, 24k]

Time to indulge by @onehundredflamingos [E, 10k]

Until Now by crpage [T, 11k]

Warm Touch Makes No Sound by @rainjulyx [E, 13k]

—

Ongoing Fest/Exchange

※ Fics would be listed elsewhere.

Frottage Cottage WFAUFF Challenge

Knot Another Writing Fest: Knot Again 2023 | @hpknotfest

[amurih]

Fuck it ima put it out anyway.

COTL AU where instead of staying in the cult Narinder leaves and builds his own little plot of land that becomes a rare occurrence you find while crusading through the different biomes post game.

Like it starts off when the lamb like spares Narinder and he’s like sent to the cult. And is in such a state of shock and bewilderment of what just happened that he doesn’t really know that the lamb is setting up their wedding until he’s at the alter. And he just SNAPS. To trade one prison for another? And to be stuck with the same being that not only took your crown, but your title as the god of death as your jailer? No thank you. Proceeds to walk out while the service is still going.

(I’m not the kind of person to think that he would be murdering or plotting to kill the lamb at every turn or possibly. No I would think that Narinder is smart enough to realize that he cannot fight the lamb in the condition that he is reduced to.)

Anyway, I want Narinder to experience life post-godhood by himself outside the cult. Maybe progressing over time you see how his plot of land develops into a pretty nice home for himself complete with a garden and an actual building/house. Not a hut, but an actual house.

All the while the lamb is going through it. It’s normal game play like one would post Narinder fight. Lore, upgrades, reviving the bishops, mystic seller, etc. All the while experiencing the highs and lows of ascension. I think the lamb would ask the other bishops once they get indoctrinated of how they went through their ascensions went. Only they would tell them that each went through theirs differently, so in the end it wasn’t really helpful.

So going through a process that you have no idea how to get through and the only person who does has fuck off into the land and hates your guts. Really fucking sucks man. So they try to “catch” Narinder while out crusading. Only they don’t find him physically, they find his place of residence while he is away.

I thought of a way to incorporate the quests that Narinder gives you when he is usually established in the cult. Could still be used: like there’s a book left on a table where you could peak in and see what’s going on with the cat that is currently away from his house.

“ I should head to Darkwoods and see if I can find more materials to build that fence and make more paper. Moving materials from one abandon home stead to this place has been challenging enough. My arms hurt after years of being bound to one position for so long...I wonder if camellias still bloom there now that Leshy is gone? If not I’ll have to develop a new alternative for this persistent strain and sharp pains I keep having. Got to get these walls up before it starts raining.”

“Bah! There’s not enough food at the last abandoned settlement let alone seeds. It’ll take long of a walk all the way to smuggler’s cove just to see if that sea louse got any thing. And it hasn’t been that long since the depletion of fish at pilgrim’s passage. I would have just stuck to what vegetables and berries I’ve got growing, but some animal or heratic keeps getting into my garden and stealing my food!when I find the person or thing that is stealing from me I’m going to make them into my fertilizer. In the meantime I should look into Anura and see if those foul mushrooms are still there. If I remember they are just as foul as Hecket when she would screamed about being hungry during dinner…Those should hold me over until I get this unwanted pest under control.”

“The wind and rain coming in through the holes on the side of the house that I use to see if any heretics come to kill me, has gotten too much. I’m tired of having to clean up the puddles of water that enters the home. And the curtains don’t do much in terms of trying to block both of these elements.That stupid squid Kallamar doesn’t need his crystals now that he’s gone. It didn’t help him when trying to hide from me. I’ll go to Anchordeep tomorrow and get some to make crystal windows. They sure would make it more beautiful than their temple…”

“Finally the loom is ready. It’s been a such a long time since I had decent robes. It’s easy to find cotton, but what I really want is a nice, soft, silk robe. One that doesn’t rub against these scars preferably. I miss the old one Shamura they made with their silk. But, that one got destroyed in the fight with that damn vessel. Maybe there is some in Silk Cradle. ”

(I’ll come back to this when I flesh it out more via work time daydreams)

[irisintheafterglow]

alright @mididoodles since you're so determined to absolutely annihilate my psyche every time you press post, here's wonderwall hockey player!satoru x skater!reader

it couldn't be that bad to go a little later to the rink, right? right?

wrong, so very wrong.

on top of sleeping through your alarm, you couldn't find your skate guards after you carelessly tossed them on your desk the night prior. you ended up having to wrench them from your dog, nearly dropping your car keys in the trash in the process. by the time you were through the double doors and shivering against the frigid air, someone's already occupied your usual timeslot. sure, it was a free skate before doors officially opened, but years of going to the same rink established that you were the one on the ice at the asscrack of dawn. the ticket sellers knew it, the zamboni drivers knew it, even other skaters knew that you had first claim. everyone was aware of your seniority, it seemed, except for the lanky hockey player swinging pucks into a net on the far side of the ice. you lace up your skates and pray for him to leave, grimacing when he doesn't and hopping onto the rink anyway. if he hit you with a puck, the lawsuit would certainly pay for your next program's costume.

you tune him out the best you can and try to ignore the way his muscles stretch against his compression long sleeve, something much too light to be wearing for a typical hockey player. you don't skate close enough to see his face, but the corded muscle on his back was enough to have your face heating. his hair was nearly the same color as the ice, and he flipped it back every so often to get it out of his face. in another world where you weren't sharing the rink with him, you'd have found yourself with a little crush on him. the music in your earbuds isn't enough, however, to drown out the sound of the stick hitting the puck over and over and over again, not to mention the times when he misses the net and the puck ricochets off the walls of the rink. your jumps become messier than usual, as are your spins, and you can only accredit it to the other occupant of the rink. after barely a few minutes of trying to share and run through your drills without using half your space, you give up and make to leave. you'd just have to come back tomorrow and hope he wasn't there.

"hey, wait! i was just leaving," a vaguely familiar voice calls to your back. it's melodic and incredibly confident, borderline arrogant. "sorry i stole your spot; i have a game tonight and i wanted to get some extra practice goals in before class." the crunch of skates sprinting across the ice and power-sliding to a halt floats into your ears and you look at the perpetrator from the corner of your eye, turning fully to look at him when your brain clicks into place who he is. "oh, shit!"

"satoru?" he mirrors the surprise in your tone, throwing his head to the side with a lopsided smile as he states your name tenderly. "oh my god, what are you doing here?" your mouth breaks into a grin, grateful to be free from the scowl you were wearing a few minutes prior. your eyes flick down to his lips as his tongue runs absentmindedly over a sparkling canine.

"i had to come in a little earlier than i usually do; i didn't know that it's during the time you're here. it's really good to see you," he says warmly and you feel your face warm. "you went pro, yeah?" you nod, casually leaning a shoulder against the plexiglass walls of the rink. he crosses his toned arms across his chest and you fight the urge to stare. it's rude to ogle the arms of your childhood crush turned hot hockey player bad boy, you scold yourself. "how's that going?"

"mmm, i just got back from russia a few weeks ago. holiday intensives and such."

"wow, that's incredible. not like i'm surprised, though. you were always the best skater in our group."

"not true. i had to use you as a walker a few times when we were first starting out," you remind him and he laughs at the memory. "you made me hold your hand while i shimmied around the perimeter."

"and you asked if i was born with skates on my feet, i remember."

"how's suguru?"

"he's great. he's usually here with me but i couldn't drag him out of his house this early in the morning."

"in true suguru fashion, really," you joke. you feel like you're seven again, staring up at satoru's bright blue eyes absolutely lovestruck. he still makes you feel butterflies, even over a decade later. "you said you had a game later?"

"yeah, here at 6:00. you should come if you're free. watch me kick ass on the ice for old time's sake."

"i'll do my best. i'm meeting a new ballet teacher who's coaching us on musicality later this afternoon."

"i don't know what any of those words mean," he states plainly and you snort. "i never understood your world."

"and i never understood yours," you confess. "yet, here we are."

"here we are, indeed," he murmurs, looking at you with an expression you've never seen on his face before. it has your heart racing like an idiot. "well, i'll let you have your rink back. thanks for letting me borrow it." he carefully steps past you and heads for the benches, throwing back his snowy hair in a way that has you gripping the edge of the wall for stability. it takes all of your willpower to keep your voice from shaking.

"i'd say come use it anytime, but i am very protective of my timeslot." he sends you a smile over his shoulder. holy shit, were his shoulders always that broad? and was he always that tall? was he always this fucking hot?

"i'll respect it, though i might pop in to watch you skate. you're mesmerizing, you know?"

"careful, any more sweet words and i'll think you have a crush on me." the words slip from your mouth faster than you can stop them and he looks at you curiously, and you'd be lying if you said he didn't look amused at your jab. you'd learned to flirt from him, after all.

when he's slipped out of his skates and re-approached you, you're barely tall enough to look him in the eyes. "it was good to see you," he murmurs.

"feeling's mutual." he's close enough that you can smell his shampoo and you resist the urge to touch his undercut.

"i missed you." his three words have you feeling weak in the knees and slightly breathless. "a lot." despite the chill, you feel your palms start to sweat.

"i missed you too."

"keep your eyes on me tonight?" you roll your eyes at his familiar, comforting self-assurance.

"like i would look at anyone else." his eyes are sparkling and time seems to slow down to a honey-covered crawl. "what number should i be watching?" he cracks a mischievous smirk, shrugging and walking to the exit. you're speechless on the ice until he turns back a final time.

to tell you that his number is your birthday.

I CALL WRITING THE GAME I'M GONNA WRITE THE GAME I WANNA WRITE THE GAME SOON I JUST FEEL SO AWKWARD WRITING WITHOUT ANY FIRST MEET/CONTEXT

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

[landofadonises]

NG-AD0372 Lingering Effects - Bullmilk Creamery Co. Supply Line

There's an interesting, overarching effect of the experiments that have been taking place in the nation's National Guard. When you really think about it, there's only so many ways to transport Alpha-Dom, via trucks and such, and accidents happen... things leak into the environment... and you end up with a nothing-creamery-company becoming a top seller within a couple of months.

A top supplier to college towns and metropolitan areas, Bullmilk Creamery Co. received a surge of business after their dairy supplier suddenly was able to provide significantly more resources for processing, their ice creams and creamers becoming much more flavorful. One unforeseen side effect that enticed those eating it was that, for some indiscernible reason, it was almost like their ice cream was spicy for the body--still an incredibly delicious, cold, sweet treat, but after they started eating it, they'd end up getting all warm, sweaty, glistening... and if they were treating themselves after a great workout, their clothes would always be a bit more snug, but they were always attributing it to their clothes clinging to the sweat.

The ice cream only came to be known what it is now as the regulars started briefly complaining about how the "spiciness" was becoming more and more potent and the sweating was getting almost out of control, but those complaints quickly shifted to enjoyment, as the trace amounts of NG-AD0372 in the ice cream meant that these customers were just... really starting to enjoy their own form. The jig was up once these regulars started coming in shirtless because their newly-but-gradually-burgeoning muscles didn't allow them to put on a single shirt in their closet, and in typical business policy formatting in Adonis, no shirt-no shoes-no service was simply not a thing, and in fact, you may end up receiving more service than just what the business can provide.

A lot of dining halls and ice cream parlors became... very messy.

[crazyforclones]

Good omens swapped:

Aziraphale: Aziraphale hates the term demon, he prefers to be called a “fallen Angel” if he is needed to be referred to at all. He spends his existence in complete sorrow, which is represented in his nightingale companion which follows him everywhere. She does not sing, for the female nightingales are mute. He spends his time obsessing over trying to one day be holy once more. This can often lead him to extreme measures taken. Destroying himself in the process. It’s not that he wants to go back to heaven, he just wants to figure out who he is, to be good, that’s all he ever wanted to be after all, good.

Aziraphales fall came from multiple instances of right intention, wrong action. After meeting the Angel Raphael and hearing his intriguing questions, Aziraphale voiced them in his own ways. While Raphael was much more careful about his “radical” Ideas, Aziraphale saw no issue in bringing up these questions. Being a cherub, most shrugged him off or found him annoying, until he was assigned to the garden of Eden. There, Aziraphale became curious about the apple tree God had told the humans not to eat from. They were off limits to humans, but surely not angels? In his sporadic Inquiry, he took a bite from the apple tree. Finding the taste astonishing, he offered Eve an apple as she passed by. For surely he should share the delicious creation God had made? Soon realizing his mistakes, he frantically offered his flaming sword to the couple, hoping this act could redeem his sin. He was wrong.

With all of the mistakes Aziraphale made, he was casts from heaven, and became fallen. His eyes “bleed” tar like tears in the presence of other demons(or when he is emotional), as if his body is reminding him of his fate. He became incredibly emotional after the fall, and often times his emotions become uncontrollable. This is especially the case in his specific job.. which is punishing sinners. For that’s the best thing a demon can do that heaven will not.

Raphael: Raphael can only be explained as quite an extraordinary and unusual Angel. His opinions and questions he asks carefully will often lead to quiet some debate. While most angels found him a sprain in their wing, Raphael simply was too important to send off. And the Angel knew this. He did not agree with heaven in all terms, especially when it came to how things ran. This lead him to try and separate and distance himself from his responsibilities, not like they ever checked anyway. So he spent most his time on earth running a green shop and meeting with his odd friend, the old book shop seller across the road.

Raphael doesn’t think heaven is as cracked up as it is supposed to be, and he tries desperately to convince Aziraphale the same. He sees how destructive heavens ideals were to Aziraphale’s mind, and saw how torturous it was to reside in hell. But despite his many times offering azirpahale a life outside of heaven and hell, he is often rejected. Raphael feels responsible for a part of Aziraphales fall. Putting all these ideas and questions into him that were his own. He knows the only reason he hasn’t fallen as well is because of his status, and feels a heavy guilt when it comes to that. So In return, he tries to do his part in protecting Aziraphale.. from himself and the destructive mindset he was manipulated into.

So sorry this is so long they’ve been on my brain for days! Anyway, hope you like my take on the role reverse au that the fandom has created! I’ve had fun thinking up new ideas, but I can’t take credit for all of them, @sabellart helped me a lot in coming up with ideas especially for Aziraphale!

[maleficentmrsofallevil]

Dye, doll, dye

I did a dyeing thing - a white Resinsoul centaur (Dawn) and different vinyl shell parts of an Obitsu 50 cm body (whitey and super whitey).

What I used:

A big shiny pot. Life pro tip - if you have an induction cooktop, check your crappy pot that you ordered from Amazon right away. Amazon sellers are liars.

Lots of towels (water everywhere). Dye (RIT DyeMore is what I used, because it's specifically for synthetics), isopropyl (rubbing) alcohol and a melamine sponge (Magic Eraser) for oopsies, and weed whacker trimmer string for the parts. Plus coffee.

Strung doll parts. NOTE: before I dye resin or vinyl, I soak it in cold water for 10-15 minutes. Resin is porous. Water will help open the pores for a slightly more even dye distribution.

So one thing I see over and over that drives me CRAZY is people dumping the whole bottle of dye directly into the water.

RIT has recipes. Here's the recipe for Fallen Star using "small" items:

It doesn't matter which small item you pick - the recipe is the same. For a more intense color, increase the amount of dye (Fallen Star is 2 teaspoons of Royal Purple, 1/2 teaspoon Frost Grey, 1/2 teaspoon Sapphire Blue per 4 cups of water). If you dump in the whole bottle, 1) you're wasting dye, and 2) you're not going to get the color that the dye is supposed to produce.

Dye measured - and then I measure one more batch in a separate cup. As stuff goes in the water, dye is absorbed and removed from the water - so you gotta add a little back. Like, an eyedropper at a time, a little.

I set the water to be just under a boil - no bubbling, but still painful when you accidentally stick a finger in there. It's soapy because RIT recommends adding a tiny bit of dish soap and a little salt to the dye bath to help disperse the color evenly.

Dunk:

The resin parts got 3 minutes each. The vinyl parts got 6 minutes.

Horse butt magnet came unglued, and there's something on the butt that prevented it from absorbing dye. I don't know what it is. I'll have to color correct with pastels. Also: the horse body was cast in two parts that were glued together, and the seams sanded. This became immediately apparent post-dye.

The floating blobs top left are vinyl thigh parts after 3 minutes in the dye bath. The darker blue human parts of vinyl parts after a six minute bath.

A few more things: whatever that butt glue was, it liquified in the pot and stuck to stuff. I am not happy about this.

Because parts are thinner in some places and thicker in others, when I pulled a part out of the bath, I would run it under cool water. Then I grabbed my melamine sponge and scrubbed areas where the dye was darker or absorbed funny. Isopropyl alcohol can also help remove some of the dye.

The dye continued to process, even after I rinsed all the parts. When I woke up the next morning, everything was an even more intense blue - especially the vinyl.

My self-imposed max time for resin in a hot water dye bath is 3 minutes. 2-part epoxy resin reacts quickly and hardens to equilibrium - NOT completion. When resin parts are put into almost-boiling hot water, the reaction is reactivated. The resin parts will shrink. I read on a resin manufacturer's website that after 20 minutes, the resin will become extremely brittle and fragile. From past experience, I know that 3 minutes in hot water is enough to make a resin part shrink.

Since the resin parts were dyed for 3 minutes each, this means I will NOT be attempting a gradation with dye. I'll use pastels instead.

But vinyl, however - vinyl can take some heat. Heh heh heh.

Next up: purple!

[grand-theft-carbohydrates]

-Bargain Bin Prince-

Lu Buwei was once a wealthy merchant who hailed from the kingdom of Wei. He made his living buying cheap and selling dear. One day, while on a business trip to Zhao, his fortunes took a change for the extraordinary.

He was taking his lunch at a wine house when he looked out into the street and saw a group of young noblemen playing a cruel and unusual game. They had bought some hot meat buns and were using them to tease a beggar—a painfully skinny youth whose clothes were so old and small his wrists stuck out a whole chi from their sleeves. First, they made him bark like a dog. Then they made him get on all fours and walk like one. After he had completed a few circuits, yipping and yapping, they finally made good on their promise and tossed a bun onto the ground. The young man pounced on it in a flash and shoved it into his mouth with both hands, nearly choking himself in his desperation to eat. 

Lu Buwei realised with surprise that the boy was wearing pure silk. The fabric had once been top-shelf stuff, though now it had become hopelessly threadbare and dirty. What he initially took to be a beggar was more than what met the eye. 

The merchant moved closer to the window. His wine had long grown cold. What began as morbid curiosity had been overtaken with eager fascination. His instincts were telling him that he was witnessing something important. 

As the group of nobles prepared to ride off, the boy scrambled to his feet and obediently took the reins of the leader's horse; it belonged to a handsome young man wearing an expensive coat fringed with brocade. As this strange group passed by the window, Lu Buwei heard the rider crack his whip and call down in a sickly sweet voice, "Do pick up the pace, A’Ren.” 

“Yes, Young Master,” the boy panted. His speech was refined, though his accent was rather hard to place.

Lu Buwei hailed a passing waiter and asked, “My good man, who was that gentleman in the fine brocade coat?” 

“Sir must be new ‘round here,” the man chuckled, “that’s the Duke’s eldest son, Young Master Zhao.” 

Heaven bless the gossipy wine sellers of the earth, Lu Buwei thought, “and who was the boy leading his horse? He doesn’t look like a servant.” 

A sneer crossed the man’s face. “Oh, him? No one important, just some minor Qin prince.”

"A prince?” 

“That’s right!” the waiter said gleefully, “you’d never guess from the looks of him. I tell you, he was real uppity when he first came here with his fancy airs and expensive clothes, but our Young Master Zhao’s been teaching him his manners. What an improvement that’s made! He’s proper regal now, ha ha!” 

“Remarkable,” Lu Buwei murmured, stroking his beard, “how very remarkable.” 

The merchant spent the next few days methodically panning the city of Handan for every nugget of information. The Qin prince was sixteen-year-old Ying Yiren, currently living as a political hostage in Zhao. Despite the deeply ironic name, which meant "extraordinary person," Yiren was only a concubine's whelp and barely worth the scraps he was fed. He had been the most expendable of his litter without being too lowly to offend his captors. That certainly explained why the duke's son could bully him so terribly. Like all currencies, princes depreciate rapidly in value when they’re over-minted, and the kings had a habit of pumping them out, two or three dozen at a time. They were not rare goods, so anything short of death or disfigurement was fair game.  

As Lu Buwei watched this pitiful, downtrodden creature, his heart became greatly moved—moved by the allure of profit, that is. He knew from experience that if he invested in wheat, he could earn back ten times as much profit. If he invested in pearls, he would make one hundredfold. Just imagine the returns he could get on a prince! 

Lu Buwei was a wealthy man with every worldly procession he could desire, but there was one thing money couldn't buy: respectability. Merchants were looked upon with the same warmth reserved for headlice and tapeworms. They were the most hated class of people, considered by many to be thieves in silk clothes, stringing their belts with other people’s hard work and contributing nothing of value themselves. 

Lu Buwei thought this was a simplistic but not unfair assessment of his work. It was true; he grew no wheat, spun no silk, and mined no jade, yet he could profit from all these things. He was self-aware enough to pity the muddy, sun-burned farmers who spat at the ground as he passed. Farmers were the lifeblood of every nation; they were born in filth and broke their backs keeping the country fed, yet he could earn ten times as much for each jin of their wheat without ever picking up a hoe. He'd envy himself, too, were their roles reversed. 

Yes, he could begrudge the farmer. But it rankled him to no end when it was the nobles who sneered at him from behind their sleeves. It got inside him, scratching and irritating like a grain of sand in an oyster. It felt unfair in a way that he could not quite explain. The only difference between himself and the average liege lord was that he had to work for his bronze, which made his money dirty, somehow—tainted by the sweat of his brow. Because he had started off as a faceless clerk in second-hand clothes, huddled together with a dozen coworkers, sharing the weak light of a single oil lamp as they copied tallies filled with goods they could never afford, this made him an unworthy pretender in their eyes. Working was both right and wrong; it seemed paradoxical. If he was up from sunrise to sundown, running around the city, balancing accounts and keeping abreast of the latest investments, it made him greedy. If he lounged about all day, reading poetry and taxing peasants at his leisure, it would make him respectable. 

Fair or not, it was heaven's mandate, and every mortal was made for their role. Lu Buwei had no interest in flipping the world upside down on a whim. He was no axe-wielding giant or muddy-handed goddess, just a simple little sparrow who wanted to line his nest with something comfortable before he got too old and grey to fly. 

Lu Buwei knocked on the doors of every associate in Handan and pooled together every favour that was owed him. This got him a meeting with Duke Zhao. The duke was not pleased to host so far beneath his station, but Lu Buwei had invited his most eloquent friends to speak for him; these were silver ingots, lacquerware and bolts of fine silk. In the presence of such esteemed company, the duke had no choice but to smile graciously and hold his nose. 

The trick to climbing the social ladder was to start near the bottom and work steadily upwards. Once Lu Buwei had Duke Zhao in his palm, he was able to secure an audience with the King. All of his eloquent friends were invited, of course. As Master Sun wrote in The Art of War, 'Make a noise in the East and attack in the West.' Lu Buwei pretended that he was here to rub shoulders with the nobility. His real goal was to get close to Ying Yiren. 

----------

[Lu Buwei befriends Ying Yiren. He convinces the Zhao King to let Ying Yiren stay at his house, ostensively as a live-in clerk. Lu Buwei tells Ying Yiren that he is extraordinary and deserves to be the next King of Qin. He plans on convincing the childless Queen to adopt Yiren as the heir apparent.]

The door opened in a haze of sandalwood incense, revealing a new set of clothes and a pink, freshly scrubbed Ying Yiren standing stiffly inside them. Lu Buwei eyed the prince critically. The extra layers gave him some much-needed bulk, but the best thing to be said about the boy at this stage was that he was not deformed or sickly. Fatten him up by five or six jin, double the amount of brocade, and he might eventually pass for stately.  

“My Prince, you look splendid!” Lu Buwei turned to the servants, “doesn’t he, girls?” 

“Oh, yes, My Prince!” they cried theatrically, “so handsome! So manly!” 

Ying Yiren turned crimson and tripped on the doorsill. “Sorry! Sorry!” It wasn’t clear who he was apologising to: the girls, Lu Buwei, or the door. 

Lu Buwei held back a sigh. He wanted someone malleable, but this was going too far! What happened to the stereotype of Qin men being war-loving brutes? How did he end up with this woolly little lamb? 

A dull gleam caught Lu Buwei’s eye. Ying Yiren was still wearing his old jade pendant, which clashed terribly with the new black silks. It was the same one he had fought for so fiercely two months ago in front of the king and his court. It had been a rare moment of genuine courage, and Lu Buwei would be lying if he said he wasn’t curious to see the trinket that inspired such an outburst. 

“Was this the pendant that Young Master Zhao stole from you?” 

“Oh, you remember that?” Ying Yiren looked surprised, “I…Yes. It is.”

"How could I forget, My Prince? You conducted yourself so bravely that day. You should have seen the fear in their eyes!” Lu Buwei had been petrified of losing his nest egg before it hatched. Everyone else was probably worried the prince had contracted rabies and might start biting. 

“My mother—I mean, Concubine Yu, gave this to me," Ying Yiren started twisting the red string between his fingers. “It was the last present I received before I left Qin, to grant me protection and to hasten my safe return. I don't know how she managed to afford it--"

“It must truly be a peerless item!” Lu Buwei had no stomach for this saccharine outpouring, “may I see it?"

Ying Yiren hesitated, “of course, Sir.” 

Lu Buwei held the jade to the light and pretended to admire it. It was a genuine article, though that scarcely did it any favours. It was the cheapest grade of serpentine, with dull, muddy colours. One of the edges had been broken and clumsily fixed with flour paste, doubtless by the boy's own hand. 

Ying Yiren hovered anxiously by his side. He all but snatched the pendant from Lu Buwei's hands, cradling it protectively like it was some precious heirloom. 

"It has so much character!" Lu Buwei said heartily, which was not a lie. "Much more memorable than those common, gaudy baubles." 

"Yes! It is, isn't it?" Ying Yiren pointed excitedly to the two weak veins of blue running through it, "The brown represents the earth, and these blue lines are the two great Chang and Huang Rivers! Isn’t it auspicious?”

“How extraordinary!” The only extraordinary thing here was that jade seller’s outrageous pitch, spinning such a fantasy to convince an ignorant concubine that this second-rate rock was a rare and marvellous item. 

Lu Buwei brought forth the new jade pendant. It was much larger and thicker than that shabby embarrassment; the colour was such a pure snow-white that it seemed to glow faintly. 

Ying Yiren looked ecstatic to receive such a princely gift. Then he looked torn. "I…I cannot accept this, Mister Lu." 

"A prince needs to dress according to his station." 

"I know! But I can’t just throw this away! This jade may not be grand, but it’s a piece of A’niang’s heart. She worked so hard for it!” Ying Yiren’s bottom lip started to tremble, “she was always working so hard for me. She always believed in me, even when no one else did, but I was too untalented to get Father's attention.” 

Lu Buwei put on his most indulgent smile and coaxed, "My Prince, you have a noble heart, but the best way to honour your birth mother would be to fulfil your birthright rather than holding onto these material items. She would want to see you become a great man." 

Lu Buwei held out the jade again; this time, Ying Yiren nodded minutely in acceptance. The merchant deliberately humbled himself by kneeling before the young man like a servant and personally affixed the pendant onto his belt. Ying Yiren helped him to his feet and said with wide, teary eyes, "Sir, you are truly a virtuous and loyal subject. I swear I shall never forget your generosity." 

Lu Buwei muttered some humble platitudes and pretended to be awestruck. What pleased him most was not the promise of reward. It was the sight of Ying Yiren furtively tucking his A'niang's pendant inside his shirt, wincing a little when the cold stone touched his bare skin. This action was worth more than a hundred blood pacts or promissory slips. Lu Buwei didn't want a clever prince who had visionary ideas. He didn't want an ambitious prince who could soar high on his own merits. He wanted a sentimental one, blinded by gratitude, who held every scrap of kindness close to his breast. 

notes: Blue and green were refered to by the same name "qing" 青 during this time period.

Bronze money was strung onto the belt, so i replaced the phrase “lining his pocket” with it.

This story is about 80% conjecture. The historical records said that Lu Buwei befriended Ying Yiren because he was an "extraordinary person" and it occurred to me that there could be a satirical twist to it, because Yiren literally translates to "extraordinary person."

this is my favourite quote. It just sums up poor Yiren's entire life so well.

“How extraordinary!” The only extraordinary thing here was that jade seller’s outrageous pitch, spinning such a fantasy to convince an ignorant concubine that this second-rate rock was a rare and marvellous item. 

[blackbackedjackal]

What was the weirdest thing you've worked on taxidermy-wise? It doesn't have to be like an unusual species, but maybe something odd about the anatomy when you first prepped an animal, or finding an odd color morph or something (or maybe a little of everything lol since you're very into like genetics and collecting Weird Bone specimens with wry noses and extra teeth).

One that really sticks with me is the coyote that solidified my interest in doing research on pathologies seen in the species.

Notice the strange greenish stain on both the jawbone and in the teeth? I'd never seen staining like this before and at this point had been collecting and cleaning some really strange coyotes for a while.

Unless I'm the person who cleans the animal, I'm often missing vital information and clues left in the skin or tissue to figure out what caused a certain abnormality. I'm careful about cleaning every animal separately, all the while taking notes of any initial strange things I see during the cleaning process. Before the skull was clean enough to me to notice the green staining, I did see some pitch black stains where the bullet I assumed had killed the animal was stuck in the tissue. Not an uncommon thing as I'd seen that kind of staining before. These are typically perimortem injuries, around the time of death, so the injury shows no obvious signs of healing. The bullet or fragments of it break off in the tissue when the animal is killed and will still be left in the tissue by the time I get to work. Lead-based ones can stain the bones a dark color while soaking and typically whitens up after being process, but this one didn't.

Not only were the teeth this strange green color, but the surrounding bone had a lot of heavy bloodstaining. This is typically caused from brute force impact injuries, like animals hit by cars but are alive for at least several minutes after being hit. It's usually related to bruising, but in some cases is also be seen in areas where the bone or tissue around the bone is infected. It's these dark pink spots around the orbit and jaw.

I saw where the bullet had struck the animal, but before it was clean assumed this was the bullet that killed the coyote. It's not uncommon for trappers or hunters to shoot animals in the head to kill the animal quickly but there was no bullet hole in the cranium. There was however, a fragment of the bullet lodged in the right body of the maxilla, right in where the marrow and some blood vessels that supply blood to the jaw and teeth were.

This wasn't what killed the coyote. The fragment was lodged in living tissue, long enough that the coyote was suffering from lead poisoning. here's another angle where you can see where the fragment was lodged and how bad the stain was near the point of contact.

In typical Americans hate coyotes form, someone had shot at this coyote at least several weeks before the coyote was killed. Could have been a missed shot and the coyote escaped, but people are extremely cruel and disrespectful to the species, and will shoot at them to haze and injure them, but not kill them. Injuries and infections like this will greatly effect the coyote's ability to hunt, so that can cause them to become "problem" coyotes. They're too sick or injured to hunt wild animals effectively, and will be more prone to scavenging or opportunistic behaviors like attacking outdoor pets or farm animals. Again, I can't determine why the animal was shot to begin with, but I do know why it was killed several weeks later. It was sick, injured, and probably acting really strange. At that point the coyote being killed was blessing, as it would have suffered for weeks before succumbing to it's injures and infection.

When I buy an already cleaned/partially cleaned skull online, I have to work in reverse to identify potential causes of the pathologies I see. Many sellers won't take note of any shards or fragments or foreign objects in the tissue while cleaning. I often loose important clues as to the exact cause of the abnormality. When I clean them myself, I make sure to save everything I find in the tissue and take notes. That way I can refer back to them when I find strange things like this.

Though it greatly saddens me to see any animal suffer in such a way, I know it's important work because it gives me solid information I can use to educate others about coyotes. This skull was sitting in this person's freezer for at least a year or so before I happened to get it in a bulk lot of raw skulls I purchased to clean for sales and for research. It's been invaluable already as it's one of the skulls I cite a lot when doing public education and getting the people I get coyotes from thinking more critically about the species. Many of the taxidermists, hunters farmers, trappers, etc. I work with are very interested in the research we're doing, and like to know the stories of the ones they've crossed paths with. Many of them have stopped hunting coyotes in reckless ways, and no longer view them as pests. In fact, one guy I get coyotes from went from killing maybe 5 or so a month before he met me, to about 5 every 6 months. He no longer views them as pests and pays attention to their behaviors much more closely. He now culls ones he notices are sick/injured on his camera traps or ones that are actively bothering or killing his livestock. He's had far less issues with his local coyotes overall by listening to the advice I've given him, and donates the ones he does take for our group's research. It's a win for everyone, less coyotes are killed indiscriminately, we get coyotes for research that are sourced responsibly and sustainably, and not only is he interested in our research, but he shares the information with his family and neighbors so they spread the information and have really changed the culture of how they feel about the animals and wildlife around them. It's really awesome to see.

Sorry that got into a little ramble but it's the weird animals that have really made such a huge impact on me and the people around me. I'm glad that even in death they can be used as ways to educate others and essentially "save" some of their living relatives. My goal is conservation, preservation, and education about the species, and working with pathological specimens is a big part of that c:

[tricksterringmaster]

another long very chaotic personal rant, getting it out there (again, i know, i absolutely hate myself too for it, no one really needs to read it, but i just feel better having it posted)

i hate so much when there is THE ARTIST in fandom. a big figure whose art become the face of characters, the face of the ship and everything.

there are ofc always big and small artists, but it's just so fucking overwhelming to see these particular people. especially when they grow out of nowhere in several months, achieving results you can only dream of and for which you will probably never have enough time, talent and what not.

i tried so hard and got so far but in the end it doesn't even matter or whatever linking park said.

sometimes i just want to get a little lucky at least fucking once instead of contantly grinding, living on 4 hours of sleep and moving like a fucking turtle in everything, no matter how much time i spend and how hard i try.

i want to be praised on these fucking discord servers without dragging my art all over the place like a seller person on the market. i want someone to use my art in their stupid slideshow on tiktok. i want them to get it and post it as illustration for some quote they liked on twitter. hell, i don't care, steal it, sell it, say it yours. for me it just means you love it so much, with my paranoia i won't be able to make money from my art anyway in this fucking country.

i want to feel like what i do makes sense and worth it in the end.

would be nice to feel like that about things irl too, but it seems even more impossible, because i'm absolute failure of a person.

i know i need to be happy and grateful about what i have, i need to compare myself to my past self, but it's just not what i feel at all. my past self had quite some moments of being better than me now, even if this self wasn't aware of it in these particular moments.

life feels so fucking unfair, and i feel jealous, angry, petty, overwhelemed, miserable and "i should stop sleeping at all, take 100 courses to get better, do 1000 tutorials, do more sport, eat even less, do better, better, better NOW" about it. and stop fucking crying, because it's petty and no one needs it.

i also feel so fucking guilty about being happy about occasional nice comments and words only for a moment, instead of focusing on them for longer times, i can't fight these dread and anxiety of feeling insignificant forever. these days it's worthy throwing a party if someone decided to say something nice, but i feel happy for a day and then get back to feeling like shit.

i also feel guilty for wanting these things when i know people who have it even worse. but just knowing that someone had it worse is perspective, not particularly a better feeling. i feel bad we all have it so bad. i'd prefer us all to succeed and achieve what we want. find communities, find love, find appreciation. and be fucking happy, be content, not on the constant "happy for a moment and then dread-dread-dread" rollecoaster that never fucking stops.

all i see is not the light at the end of the tonnel, but the tonnel at the end of the light and it gets closer and closer, darker and darker every other week.

i know that i'm annoying and talk about feeling bad often these days, but it just how it is. sometimes you are a mess and you have to live through it, hoping it all will end one way or another.

i'll talk with my therapist about it, but my next session is only on friday, so here is some extremely chaotic self-reflection. i need to survive this thursday and part of friday to get there and somehow work in process. there is a prospect of losing a job now, but no one knows anything, haha. sometimes it feels that good news are out of stock at all.