#and the docs just don't understand the relief that is

[valkerymillenia]

Finally had the appointment with the psychiatric specialist. Had to get up at 6am and go to a whole other city but I got it.

He was a guy (not the actual doctor I was supposed to see because she's on medical sabbatical). And he was nice but I am awkward with strangers and there were some things... Look, I just hate medical gender bias and there was a little here.

But most of all, there was... Some ableism?

Don't get me wrong, he was good and proper and did his job, he was also nice (and very young), but I was there for an ADHD and autism screening so I could have an official documented diagnosis and, well, there was quite a bit of gender bias about these disorders... And a significant amount of unconscious ableism too.

I'm already being treated for these things but my current doctors (psychiatrist, psychologist, and GP) don't have expertise in this area because these disorders aren't usually diagnosed in adulthood and that is their field, and this guy is the "expert" so we need his stamp on the matter just to dot the i's.

Turns out we didn't have enough time for all the tests because someone messed up and scheduled this as a follow-up appointment instead of an assessment but we made do. Here's my problem though: he only wanted to focus on the ADHD.

Also, he ignored a lot of details I was trying to put on the table but I might be reading too much into this.

According to him, yes, I definitely have ADHD and it's good that I'm already testing the medication for it but he wants to see what else he can do and if he can fix the side effects, but we didn't really have enough time for a full evaluation so he sent me home with a bunch of written tests to take so he can check them next month and have a more concise idea of my issues.

He also cut some of the older medication I had that is now obsolete with the new stuff.

I'm fine with all that. Grateful even.

But I wanted to talk about the autism diagnosis, I've been trying to approach this with doctors for years, I've desperate to be heard ever since I learned just how strongly the symptoms applied to me every since I was born, I'm been desperate ever since I discovered the gender bias in diagnosing females, I did so much research and talked to other autistic people and associations that gave emotional support, but the doctors keep brushing it off, not because they don't agree but because they literally don't want to talk about autism in general, they don't even wasn't to explain why they don't want to talk about it, the stigma is just too big.

Eventually, this is what this doc said:

"Look, autism is a spectrum and all so it's complicated. You definitely have serious autistic traits for sure but I don't think we should test you for it, there's no point because you're an adult and you've already learned coping mechanisms and masking the hard way, you struggled a lot but you're here, there's really not much else we can do help with and not much treatment we can give for this so why saddle you with a bad label?"

Like, it's so ableist. He totally missed the point? I told him I don't really care about what treatment they can give me, I just want confirmation because:

1. there's safety in labels, much more comforting to know I'm normal zebra and not a failed horse,

2. having the diagnosis gives me access to more information and a better ability to find good coping mechanisms and helpful tools for my daily life,

3. having the diagnosis allows me to find community and get mutual help and support without judgement,

4. having an official diagnosis helps me get certain amenities (or at least understanding) to make my life easier, be it with work or family life, even with social security or at certain events,

5. and finally, just because I survived my childhood without a label and found a way to blend in with neurotypicals doesn't mean that's a good thing (I was horribly bullied and abused for a reason), it doesn't mean that I'm currently happy pretending to be what society expects, doesn't mean it's not fucking exhausting, doesn't mean I don't deserve validation for my struggles.

But noooo, his whole focus was on "we can't medicate to FIX it so why bother" and on "what people would think of you if you had that label".

Bitch, I don't care about either of those, I don't care what people think of me, I care what I think of me, and autistic is not a slur, contrary to what people in this country seem to think! I just want to understand myself and my own struggles, and whenever I get harassed for being different I want to be able to defend myself with this knowledge.

For fucks sake, just test me and show some support!

I stg the doctors in this country are so scared of the word "autism", it's insulting.

[cerastes]

Legitimately can't stop thinking about the brilliance of Degenbrecher's introduction as a playable character.

We've known Degenbrecher for a long, long time before this event, and even before Break The Ice, actually: Before Arknights even released, Gnosis and Degen can be seen in this pre-launch trailer at 0:14.

Degenbrecher existed for years as this larger-than-life figure shrouded in rumor and fame, with an almost supernatural countenance to her presence in the corner of the narrative she inhabits: The three-time Grand Champion of the Kazimierz Major, the dreaded Black Knight, the peerless warrior, who has the strength of ten knight companies on her shoulders alone. Spoken of in equal parts awe and fear, her stint in the knightly competitions were legendary in how one-sided they were whenever she took to the field, and Platinum even comments that her portraits on the gallery of champions all make it seem like she doesn't even age, adding a supernatural element to her legacy. All we know is that she's currently SilverAsh's bodyguard and no doubt part of why his faction is so formidable, as it would be for anyone who has a one-woman army on their payroll. When we are finally introduced to her formally in the narrative, she's all business, no non-sense, in the middle of her job, and boy howdy is she good at it: We know the kind of juice Rhodes Island Elite Operators have, they are really, really strong, and yet all Sharp can do is stall for time against her, with tacit understanding that no matter how much he tries, he is NOT overcoming her.

There is not a single thing anyone present on Doc's side can do to actually overcome Degenbrecher during Break The Ice, so the very best thing anyone could do was stall her. THAT is the winning move, or at least as close to one. She's that formidable, and then some. We only see her in business mode here, with a small glimpse to her more noble nature in that she is nothing but non-self aggrandizing compliments for Sharp for being able to even fight her, even if there is no chance he can beat her, because most people just take a single swing from her. When Doc's plan succeeds and we reach the climax, she simply sheathes, says "Well played", SA recalls her back to her pokeball, and we are left letting out a sigh of relief that we made it in time.

Then, for some more years after that, that's our impression of her: Unsurmountable. We don't know much more about her other than she is simply not someone you measure up to. This, by itself, isn't particularly unique, both as a concept or in the cast of Arknights, but it leaves you to wonder exactly what is she beyond being Unsurmountable. Who is she, actually?

Then, The Rides to Lake Silbernherze happens, where she is the main character, and after all those years of mystique and grandeur, of guessing and wondering, we finally can see her not as a plot device, but as an actual character: The very first scene is her covered in blood and raw jumping on a moving train for some mysterious purpose. Oh god, oh no, why is she soaked in blood already? Is she already in Terminator mode?

Then, in the best possible payoff of years of mystique and build-up, we learn that Degenbrecher, the person, not the plot device, the person, is fucking hilarious.

She's covered in blood because she stopped by a nearby farm to help farmers deliver a farm animal, which covered her in blood given how messy births are. She apparently didn't have to do this, and just opted to because, well, she was there, they needed help, and she's in a perpetual state of down to clown.

While pursuing possible dangerous elements to Kjerag later, she stops by to talk with tourists and recommend good spots to sightsee and eat before resuming her chase Looney Toons style.

She looks the same in the three champion portraits because she didn’t like the photoshoots so she skipped them. They were just reusing her photo.

She'll have the single most mundane conversations with the simplest people in midst of off-handedly mentioning that she quite enjoys fistfighting avalanches -- in a setting where this is not at all normal or feasible -- just to test herself. Reactions to her saying this vary from "hey is this a bit" to "oh, Degenbrecher, you card, we saw you do that the other day, next time I'll bring my camera".

She's a combination of Bugs Bunny, Sakamoto-kun, and Broly, and her main gimmick is that she's a reasonable, normal ass person in terms of personality sans the more overt feats of power like fistfighting avalanches. She's just Someone, who just happens to be mind-bogglingly strong and skilled with the greatsword and with swordbreakers.

This is doubly hilarious when you compare her to other one-woman armies we know: Nearl's dialogue is entirely composed of flowery promises for a better tomorrow and heroic declarations, Saria has woman pain 9000 and hasn't had a good day in years, Skadi is afflicted with survivor's guilt which in turn lead to a potent-self loathing and rationalizing her mere presence is what causes tragedy to those around her. Degenbrecher, in comparison, is just happy to be here, enjoys a good fight within reason, loves challenging herself, and honestly is quite content with stuff like paperwork or small talk. She's the friend you call to help you move or when your pipe busts or when you need someone to take care of your kid for a few hours if you're going to be late home due to work. And she puts her entire god damn pussy into it, too, you bet your kid is going to have the time of their life if Degenbrecher is on babysitting duty. Degenbrecher chips in for pizza night. Degenbrecher helps you change your flat tire.

The essence of Degenbrecher is that the rest of Terra is going through some really dire, really interesting times, to say the least, but she's on New Game+ just sort of doing side quests, overleveled as hell and with her shit figured out, and she decides to be as funny as possible about it.

[cumtastiics]

I'd totally like a full fic of Aurelius running around his little concussioned, semi-amnesiac patient!

YAN! DOC x G/N READER

tw(s); yandere & mentions of iv's a/n; this has no official title since i'm lazy sorry :p the post that inspired this here oops this became more angsty than i thought if you wanted more fluff erm sorry ab that!! lol!

would def make this fluff if u guys want

"Fuck," he muttered under his breath, rubbing his temple.

Some nurse thought it was a great idea to let you out of your room, almost causing Aurelius to get a heart attack.

"Where's (Y/N)?" He asked the lady at the front desk, his patience leaving.

"They were taken out by that nurse of theirs. The cute guy everyone's been falling in love with," the women spoke, taking a bite out of her granola bar, paying no attention to the others around her.

Aurelius clenched his fists in frustration, his jaw tightening as he fought to contain his anger. "That 'cute guy' needs to learn some boundaries," he muttered, raising an eyebrow at the nonchalant woman. He hesitated for a moment, debating whether to give her a piece of his mind or find you as soon as possible.

Deciding to keep his emotions in check, he forced a strained smile. "Well, thank you for the information," he said, his voice dripping with false politeness. Turning on his heels, Aurelius stormed off in the direction the nurse had taken you.

He couldn't understand how someone could be so irresponsible, oblivious to the potential harm they could cause. All he wanted was to ensure your safety and well-being, and now he had an additional cause for concern.

As he wove through the bustling hospital corridors, his thoughts raced with worry. What if you had been injured or distressed while under the care of the oblivious nurse? The mere thought made his blood boil, making him want to throw up.

Just as he rounded a corner, he caught sight of you standing near a window, seemingly oblivious to the chaos they had caused. Relief washed over Aurelius, briefly suppressing his anger. "There you are," he sighed, his voice filled with a mix of concern and irritation.

"You look mad," you commented, your eyes looking through the window, not paying any attention just like the women from earlier.

"Who brought you out?"

"Some guy. Dunno his name,"

"You're left alone, and not even in a fucking wheelchair for that matter," he spoke, his voice sounding more annoyed as each second passed.

"Sorry..?" You offered, not really wanting to deal with him.

You were finally able to get some fresh air, and you were not going to let him ruin your chance.

'Let's go," he grabbed your arm, making you almost fall over. Aurelius's grip on your arm tightened, his anger boiling over as he yanked you towards him.

"You don't get to just wander off without a care in the world," he growled through clenched teeth. "I'm here to protect you, and if you can't see that, then maybe I shouldn't even bother." His words stung, although you understood his concern.

"I didn't mean to cause you worry," you said, trying to steady your voice. "I just needed a moment to breathe. But I'm fine now."

"Fine? You call this fine?" he scoffed, his grip still firm on your arm. "You could have gotten hurt, kidnapped, who the hell knows what could have happened? And you think it's just fine?"

"I'm not gonna fucking die without you!" You yelled, trying to get out of his grip.

"Yes, yes you will!" Aurelius's voice grew cold, his eyes flashing with a toxic mix of anger and superiority. "You're nothing without me. You're weak, helpless, and if I'm not there to protect you, you'll end up getting yourself killed."

His words tore through you like a knife, the toxicity of his possessiveness becoming unbearable. Anger swelled within you, fueling your determination to stand up for yourself.

"I'm not weak, Aurelius. I can take care of myself. I'm not some fragile little thing that needs to be sheltered from the world," you shot back, your voice laced with a newfound strength. His grip on your arm tightened even more, his face contorting with rage.

"You think you're so tough? You think you can survive out there on your own? You're delusional. You need me, whether you like to admit it or not."

"No, I don't," you replied defiantly, staring him straight in the eyes. "I need someone who respects me, who trusts me, and treats me like an equal. Not someone who thinks they have the right to control my every move."

Aurelius's facade of superiority shattered for a split second, a flicker of vulnerability crossing his face. But it quickly turned back to anger, his toxic traits taking hold once more.

"You're just a fool if you think anyone else could ever care for you like I do," he spat, his voice laced with venom. "But go ahead, try to find someone else. You'll see how quickly they abandon you when things get tough."

You finally got back to your room, after what felt like ages. He glared at you, as you avoided eye contact.

You felt like you were constantly walking on eggshells, never knowing what would set him off next.

[cipheramnesia]

Part 4: A Midnight Summer Dream

a story by @rox-and-prose and @cipheramnesia

Luna was a pale sliver of paint in the stars, a slip of the brush in the forever of the sky.

"That's it," Michele Loren said. "This is where we head our separate ways for the moment."

Laika took her hand of the control vines for Genghis Khan as she stared wordlessly. The earth civ moon, original version, a system unto itself. She had devoured all she could find about Luna, the multifacet god, in hopes to understand the call she felt in the days after leaving home. She'd put the hope of seeing Luna with her own eyes at the bottom of a box and buried the idea. Her muzzle hung slightly agape as she searched for something momentous to say, to share with GK how much it meant to be in the here and now.

She noticed Sy was watching her, and the dryad smiled and glanced away when he saw her seeing him. She blushed and her face felt hot, and she forgot her train of thought.

"I never imagined I'd rob the moon," she said.

"You're only robbing a very, very small part of it," Cat Nguyen corrected.

The crew of the Paperclip were sharing the bridge of Genghis Kahn, with varying expressions of perplexity on their faces watching the werewolf executing the peculiar movements and footwork involved in manipulating the various switches and nerves and pedals essential to a Pilot. Even Doc seemed entranced, silent through all the system jumps, or structure solutions, or whatever GK liked to call them. All except Dandridge who returned to the Paperclip immediately in a sullen huff, vowing never to set foot on GK ever again. Laika was going to need to find out what exactly GK had done to piss him off so bad.

Now they were gathering up helmets and and gloves for their envirosuits, looking around for just the right way to excuse themselves from the room which Laika had seen enough of before she was eight to recognize. "Okay," Loren said. "Well, you know. This should go fine, just stick with the plan, keep it simple, you know."

"I can do better than that," Doc (Laika still hadn't figured out if the woman was Blake Sloane, or Sloane Blake, or something else), pushing her bracelets along with the sleeve of her purple, double breasted, knitted suit jacket. "I can stick the plan to me." There was a mess of writing which Laika deeply hoped was meant to look smeared and half erased on Doc's forearm.

"That's, that's a great- Good job Sloane."

"Doctor Blake, why can't you ever get my name right?!"

"I'm sorry. Doctor Blake. Fantastic work as always." Loren turned to Laika. "Look, I don't know how to uh. You know how much work this has been for me. Well, just be careful. Make sure next time I see you, you have the godseye or Doc, or both. Or don't let me see you again?"

"Is that a threat," Sy asked.

"Think of it as friendly advice," Loren said.

"And also as a threat," Nguyen added, despite Loren's sharp look. "What?" she shot back at his frown.

"Do I have do go with these guys?" Sy looked at Laika who said "no" at the same time as Loren and Nguyen said "yes."

"We'll keep our end," Nguyen said, "along with your friend. You keep yourself along with Doc."

"Who you wouldn't be sorry to see killed, I gather."

"We'd prefer she come out of this mostly intact," Loren sounded almost apologetic.

"Okay, okay, fine. Let's not draw this out, I get it."

Loren breathed a small sigh of relief and Nguyen just smiled. "We'll get going then," he said.

"Take care of yourself," Laika gave Sy a shoulder pat as he walked by, then impulsively pulled him into a hug.

"I'll be good," he said into fur. "You have the hard job."

"Pulling off the heist?"

"Being alone with, uh, the Doc."

Loren and Nguyen waited at the entryway to the bridge. Laika set down Sy from the hug and stood her full height. "Oh," she said. "Before you go? GK, please threaten them."

Its voice coming from nowhere as usual, GK said, "Thank you Laika, for this commendable request. Captain Michele Loren of the Paperclip, please prepare for receiving a threatening missive."

"What?"

"Captain Michele Loren, Pilot Cat Nguyen, and the remaining crew of the ship Paperclip not present aboard myself, I am placing you under the advisement that should even the smallest fraction of an injury occur to Pilot Laika Blackwood, or Sy Drangea, electrical engineer, I will track you to the end of earth civilization space, and to parts unknown. You will never know safety or peace for as long as you remain alive. I will find your dreams, and take them from you. There will be no power up to and including the total heat death of this universe which will stop me from extracting your lives in payment. If you die, I will find yours souls. I will tear apart the essence of your beings. I will disperse the electrons of your bodies into every star of this universe. I will burn your souls to ash. Nothing will remain. Please ensure Sy returns safely to me upon our next meeting."

Loren stared, open mouthed.

"Uh," said Nguyen, "You're... really good at that."

"Thank you," said GK. "Your praise is insignificant to me. Please have a safe trip."

[sea-of-dust]

Wonderland Girl

Himeko,Jing Yuan,Seelie,Yanqing x GN! Reader

Summary: Relationship Headcannons!

Notes: Muhahaha, another theme change stg if I change my name rn no one will recognize me 😼😼. Ignore the Pastel★Pallette Referance I ran outta ideas

Warnings: suggestive humor,not proofread

She finds you so adorable even when your supposed to be serious. She'd be right next to you watching you come up with a plan and circle around the room. When you come up with a plan you do this cute thing where your head perks up and she just melts seeing this you can't be this cute.

She also likes whenever you act professionally in front of people from the train and then turn around and flirt with her. "Yea...if March is right about this, this could lead to a whole investigation breaking out... What do you think my dear" "my dear?" "Well the best course of action if things go south would probably be an ambush" "yea...most likely I'll go with you guys" "does that mean my room will be vacant again?" She teases "don't worry you still have plenty of things to remind you of me while I'm out ♡" March leans into the Trailblazer. "I think we should give em some room" "they need a room"

100% her hands are all over you. If your right next to she's having a hand around your waist. You could be on your phone she'd lean on you smiling. "You're so warm" she remarks, laying on your shoulder. She just loves physical contact

Her kisses are soft yet intimate depending on how many people are around. She's fine with pda but understands if you may be uncomfortable. Dosent stop her for pinning you against a wall and kissing you all over. "You're so adorable when you're flustered," she smiles

Welt usually gets indirectly bullied by you two. You could be all lovey dovey while he's on a call with the Trailblazer and he would just be unable to handle it. You pointed this out to her and wanted to see how long it would take for him to leave the room. "Himeko you're so beautiful today!" "Why you're as beautiful as always my dear" "Why you're stunning my love!" He looks back at you two annoyed. "Pardon Trailblazer" he moves to another room he could hear you two laughing in the other room.

She enjoys you pampering her. You tucking her in or preparing food for her. She loves it! She'll pay you back preparing a bath for you or giving you massages. "Just relax I'm very good with my hands" she rubs your back. "Thank you Himeko" "No problem" she kisses the back of your neck.

She likes dancing with you in private, not everyone should be allowed to see this side of her after all, a calm song with her being able to rest on your shoulder as you lead. "Thought you said you had cold feet" "I can manage." It's so calm and intimate that she tries not to fall asleep on you. "Don't sleep again" "aw howed you know" she looks up a bit drowsy. "Whenever you go five minutes without conversation it's kinda odvious your drifting off" she smiles "you know me well~"

She slipped a ring on your finger while out on a date. You two were drinking tea, and while you were looking away, she slips a ring on your finger. When you notice this, you look at your hand and look at her. "What?" "Did you-" she smirks, watching your flabbergasted reaction

She adores staying in and watching moves with you. Random crime docs or just bad TV drama she enjoys laying in bed next to you as you two cringe at a bad romance show. The best parts definitely when you end up sleeping. Then she gets to admire just how cute you could be without even trying!

Attempting to make tea together is something she didn't know she wanted until you did it. "Himeko, what flavor do you like?" You yell out,"Whichever you'd like." "That's not what I mean!" She walks into the room, finding you going through tea. "That one's hard to prepare. I'll show you," she guides you step by step on a way to make that tea. "And that's it!" You sigh in relief "oh finally that took two years!" She giggles at this, taking a quick sip. "...we should do this more often"

"Hey would you date me if there was a bird on your head right now?" "Why that's an odd chance but I'm willing to take it" you pluck out a bird from his head "...well-"

It was an odd way of asking him out, but what was odder was how genuine his feelings were for you. You never really saw any signs of him liking you. "You thought someone kissing your hand was normal?" "I thought that's how he greeted people!"

His kisses are quick and surprising. You turn to face him, he has a kiss planted on your cheek. You just wake up, quick little kiss. The only times you'll get a longer kiss outta him is when he's feeling a little more intimate or just a way of saying thank you for adoring him the way you do.

Whenever you're sick, he lets you come into the office to stay with him, but you gotta do some of the paperwork at least three pieces. "I told you you should have stayed home." "I can handle it!" You lean into him. "You're already groaning after the first paragraph," he softly laughs. "It's overwhelming, but I can do it!" He sighs turning back to his work

He likes catching whenever you look at him. You would admire his beauty thinking about him almost zoning out. He winks at you suddenly, waking you up from the day dream flustered. "How long was I staring at you?" "Few minutes" "HUH"

Dates with him are calm and fascinating. Often walks where you two sharing random stories with each other. He can't help but smile as you recount a random story you had. "So this one time I found a moth in my room" "mhm" "and it was on the shoe I usually used to kill bugs" "I see" "and then I remembered there was another shoe and smacked it" "remmber something simular happened to me but instead of a bug, it was a bird!" "You're like a princess next your birds are going to make up a military." "...that's actually a pretty good idea" an odd silence "so did you actually smack a bird-" "No I let it fly free out the window" "oh-"

He dosent want you near any danger. The dangers of paperwork are fine but straight up fighting monsters. No you're staying inside. Even when you have combat prowess he's still gonna be all "no its too dangerous" "I fought them before tho-" "good counter argument...stay inside till its safe" "HUH-"

He'll let you pat his head as long as there aren't any birds on it. As soon as you do, he leans in to eventually leaning on your chest. "Are they that calming?" "Very much" he smiles

He thinks you're so adorable. He tries to hide the urge to just cup your cheeks to see your reaction. He enjoys the thought of catching you all flustered and kissing you just to see your reaction.

He let you meet members of the military, and they treat you like a little sibling. Like a damsel, it makes you wonder when they'll ever realize why there are fewer monsters appearing lately. "General! Monsters haven't appeared as much as they used to its assumed they must be retreating!" "Why what good news the problem is...where are they retreating to..." and you'd just be looking away from him like you're totally not the cause for this

She's very VERY clingy. She won't lose you she'll make sure of it.

If anyone in the underground didn't know you were her s/o, she'd force em to know. You'd have to hit her with a "this isn't you 🥺" as soon as you got home, she'd hate it. "Pookie!" You'd snap your fingers in her face."This isn't you!" Snap snap,"quit it! You know stuff like that's cringy" "Sorry, can't help myself"

She'd sometimes get lost in thought when talking to you, almost in a daze. "Are you alright?" You wave your hand over her face. "Yea, yea I'm fine did you just...always look so?" Once she realized she said that last part outloud, she covers her face. "Forget I said anything!"

She loves whispering things into your ear. She thinks it's intimate. She'd sit next to you leaning in "I love you~" you look at her blush nearly covering your face. "Could have said that outloud!" "Seeing you flustered makes me wanna do it more"

She pokes you whenever she's in a bad mood or just finished off a mission. Poke Poke "you had a bad day huh?" "What makes you say that" she pokes you a bit more. "Did you get into an argument with someone again?" You cup her cheek. "...maybe" she stops poking you. "How about this we get some ice cream later to help you forget about it!"

She sometimes draws stuff on your skin. Randomly opening a marker and drawing a small butterfly. If you ever told her to stop she'd look a little disappointed before figuring out she could just write letters and cover them with little drawings in the corners. "She's so old fashioned but these little drawings...she's so adorable" Natasha smiles "she's so childish when around you" "really? I just always assumed she was like this"

If she were to ever catch you asleep, she'd cuddle up with you as if waiting for you to notice she's there with you. She'd kinda lay there awkwardly before just pulling you in for a cuddle.

Natasha definitely has pictures of Seelie growing up. She'd proudly show you as soon as Seelies out of sight. "And this is her 6th birthday" you cover your mouth "she's so cute!" "I know right!" She giggles to herself

She doesn't admit it, but she likes you treating her more than Natasha. Not that she doesn't like Natasha it's that if she knows it's not that bad, she's going to you with it. "Can't believe you got yourself hurt like this" you sigh, putting a bandage over her bicep. "Try not to fight too much k? Might open up the wound" you sigh. She likes the thought of you taking care of her she hides odvious blush on her face.

If you ever knew Sampo or someone she thought would do something bad to you that she knew personally. She'd quite litterally drag you away from them. You're just lucky you got to be held by the waist and not by the scruff, unlike one unlucky salesman.

You beat him through sword fighting. He got butthurt, challenged you to a rematch, you jokingly flirt with him, he got flustered then realized he really liked you, thank god you confessed first because he would have evaporated

He's very light. Lightheaded and light on his feet. You don't hear him running up to you for hugs. "Y/n!" He rubs his cheeks against yours,"Yanqing! Where did you come from -"

If he ever caught you stretching in an open area he'd get so excited. "What cha stretching for?" He sneaks up behind you putting his hands on your shoulders. "Nothing just wanted to get out a bit" "mmmhh WANNA SWORD FIGHT?!" the idea suddenly pops in his head. "I ment I was going for a walk" "oh..." he looked so disappointed. "We can train next week if that makes you feel better" and just like that he's back to hugging you tightly shifting most of his weight onto you. "Yay! Thankyouthankyouthankyou!" "Calm down its nothing"

Hell never admit he's cute. You could tell him how cute he is and he'd be all "I am a swordsman! Not a piece of mochi!" "But you squish like one!" He tries not to smile as you stretch and swish his cheeks. "You're so cute!" "I'm not!"

He's always next to you, so say he lost you somewhere he'd lose his shit. "So then I hit em with-" he'd notice you not next to him "AAAHHHHHHH" he shreaks like a little girl and runs around the store looking for you. It got so bad he had to ask people coming out of the bathrooms. "Have you seen my s/o?!? Pretty cute...Looks like they unironcally sleep with plushies" "no?" "Damn, thank you!" It turns out you were in the other aisle looking at a piece of clothing you wanted for a while and then looked at the price and noped out. He's holding back tears

You got hurt when you went out without him. You covered it up, but he could tell something was bothering you. You didn't usually limp a tad when walking. So when you two got outta the public eye he kinda tests you softly kicking where he thinks you're in pain. You try to hold in a hiss as he's proven correct. "So what happened while I was training?" "Don't know what your talking about I'm fine." "Uh huh-" he kicks you there again "AH FINE FINE I TRIPPED" you hold onto the rail overlooking the view trying not to step down on that leg. "Knew it, why didn't you tell me?" "Because you get overly dramatic and would probably trap me in blankets and oreos if I did"

"I wouldnt!" He did...as soon as you got home it was almost an ambush. He wrapped you in your blanket and reopened your oreos. "...I told you" "shush! Now lemme take care of you" he looks at your knee rubbing cream on it. He seems pretty focused. "I'm sure it isn't that bad-" "I'm sure it is" "your wrapping my foot like a mummy..."

He'd try to get into video games you like. He didn't like some of them and ended up deleting some, but he still saw how you enjoyed them. He also tries to get you into video games he likes as well. "Hey, I found this game we might like playing!" "...looks like something my grandma would play. " You open your phone, proceeding to show him your grandma flexing how far she got in the game. "Only took her 10 months...scared of that woman." "Me too"

He tries to initiate kisses. He'd cup your face and lean in, but sometimes he just can't bear going through with it. He usually kisses you without a second thought, but when he thinks too hard about it, everything kinda just crashes down in his brain, and he goes pink. "Uh-" he pauses in the middle of leaning in to kiss you swiftly, turning away. "Thought about it too hard again?" You kiss him.

He whenever you do his hair. He purposely messes up his own hair to walk over to you. "You mind if you do my hair?" "Yea, sure, lemme get a brush. " You grab a brush and calmly untangle his hair. "The same again?" You look over to him. "Kinda wanna see something new." "All right," you part his hair, trying to think of something that would fit him, figuring a bun wound work. You wrap up his hair and put it in a bun. You had him a mirror. "One of the strands is lose," he points at it. "It's on purpose," you smile at the mirror. He gets up, looking at his hairstyle again. "You mind...doing this more offen?"

[goemon-fan]

How to Help Palestine

This post is intended to guide those who have no idea on how to help Palestine. I am making this as quick as possible, so please inform me if there is another source you would like me to add, or if any of these sources are inaccurate.

According to the Palestinian Children's Relief Fund, what we, the average person, can do to help Palestine is:

Educate ourselves (reading and learning Palestine's history)

Advocate for change (writing to representatives, voting, protesting, and petitions)

Staying informed and engaged (reading reputable news sources, don't stop talking about Palestine!)

Supporting Palestinian businesses (and boycotting those businesses which do not support Palestine)

Donating to reputable organizations (the PCRF is a great one, however there is also gazaesims.com, Doctors without Borders, UNWRA, and these)

Notice how many of these are free and easily available.

Education

Decolonizepalestine.com, and more specifically its reading list, is a great start. I highly recommend this Palestine Masterlist Google Doc, it provides free resources and just about everything you need to be informed and educated. This Carrd is also informative and easy to understand. Pluto Books is having a sale on books about Palestine, and Verso Books even provides ebooks for free. Words without Borders provides free stories from Palestinian writers. This website also links to free resources. It is also worth checking out your local library to see if they have any available books about Palestine.

Advocate for Change

Email script; send the message as often as you can, and keep track of possible responses from your representatives. If they're advocating for Is---l (such as my representative is, however I do not want to doxx myself; however, they are Republican) vote them out.

Ceasefiretoday.com provides a master list of advocacy resources.

Staying Informed and Engaged

Aljazeera.com is a great resource for current news regarding Gaza, the U.S. government, and the victims of this violence.

As for staying engaged, don't stop talking about Palestine! Talk with your friends, family, anyone about what is happening, and use your newfound education to educate others! Make a stand and cut Z---ists out of your life!

Support Palestinian Businesses

This is a good beginning list, but feel free to branch out to other Palestinian brands.

However, make sure to boycott these companies, and remember to check any produce you buy (especially dates for Ramadan) to see if it is produced by Is---l.

Donating to Reputable Organizations

Here is this charity list again. Make sure that your charity of choice:

Is going to Gaza/Palestine and

Advocates for a ceasefire

Be on the lookout for scams, and if you want to help Palestinians directly without running the risk of a scam, eSims for Gaza is a great source; and, you're making history! You get to tell your ancestors how you fought for Palestinians!

What Now?

As a final note, every little bit counts. Please do not remain silent even if you run a fan account or have a particular "aesthetic," please do not allow your fandom to remain silent, please do not fall for the fallacy that there's no way you can fight against an entire government. There is strength in numbers, and every little action you make contributes, whether for better or worse. Please do not support Z-----t actors or media, please do not drink Starbucks or buy McDonalds because that is what is convenient for you, please do not choose ignorance and silence to what is happening. I am not asking you to sacrifice or put your life on hold, but you do need to care. Thank you.

[lizzyiii]

His Darling (3)

pairing | loki x fem!reader

word count | 5k words

taglist | if you'd like to be added to the taglist just add your username to this DOC

summary | you and loki have a one on one, and suddenly strange dreams seem to find you, ones of a mysterious man and a different time

note | language, violence

a/n | i really enjoyed writing this chapter. Also bare in mind I'm writing literally from the show, merely adding a character insert, so if you don't like the way certain characters are written cough (sylvie) cough, just know that this is directly from the show.

likes, comments and reblogs are much appreciated ✨

ᴘʀᴇᴠɪᴏᴜs ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ - ᴍᴀsᴛᴇʀʟɪsᴛ - ɴᴇxᴛ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ

“May I see your hands?”

Your gaze snapped to Loki, his tone unexpectedly serious against the backdrop of the ship’s creaking timbers. After hours of searching and navigating through chicago, you had miraculously pinpointed Victor's coordinates.

The relief of discovery was dulled by the exhaustion weighing heavily on your limbs as you leaned against the deck, the salty sea air doing little to revive your spirits.

With a weary sigh, you extended your hands to him, your fingers trembling slightly. The light scrapes from when you’d climbed out of the lake were still evident, reminders of how chaotic the day had become.

Loki took your hands in his, his grip warm and surprisingly comforting. A soft green light enveloped your wounds as he concentrated, his magic flowing into you like a gentle tide, soothing the rawness and stinging pain.

You could feel his energy mingling with yours, But when you finally pulled your hands away, the familiar throb of a migraine surged back, sharper than before, as if reminding you that the fight wasn’t over.

“I want to go home,” you murmured, the fatigue clear in your voice. The longing for the simplicity of your life back in your world.

Loki’s voice, laced with guilt, followed you. “I think perhaps we should have let you stay at the TVA.”

You snorted, shaking your head incredulously. “You think?” The sarcasm dripped from your words, a defense mechanism honed by endless encounters with chaos. The ship swayed gently beneath your feet, the rhythmic lapping of waves a distant echo to the turmoil swirling in your mind.

“Sorry,” you muttered, your voice barely audible over the sound of the waves lapping against the ship. “I turn into quite the bitch when I’m tired and overstimulated.” It wasn’t an apology so much as a self-deprecating admission, the words tumbling out before you could stop them.

Loki, leaning casually against the railing, tilted his head, his eyes narrowing slightly but not in a judgmental way.

There was something understanding in his gaze, something softer than you’d expect from a god who had wreaked havoc across the universe. “Understandable,” he replied, his voice smooth, tinged with an odd empathy. “This situation is... a lot.”

You let out a short, humorless laugh, brushing a hand through your disheveled hair. “That’s the understatement of the century. But no—being patient is important. Nobody wants to be around a bitch the entire time.”

Loki’s eyes never left you, his expression shifting to something you couldn’t quite read. It wasn’t pity, but something... tender? “That’s an interesting perspective,” he said slowly, as if he were weighing each word.

The sun was just beginning to rise, casting a warm golden light across the ship's deck, the early rays glinting off the water like diamonds.

You raised a brow, unwilling to let the mood get too heavy. “What, you expected me to be a diva all the time?” Your voice was light, but your exhaustion was starting to catch up with you.

He tilted his head, studying you with that infuriatingly calm gaze. “No, I didn’t. But there’s something admirable about how you handle everything.”

You snorted, rolling your eyes. “Well, I’m not sure ‘admirable’ is the right word. Barely keeping it together is more accurate.” You shifted slightly, trying to keep the conversation flowing so you wouldn’t collapse from sheer exhaustion. “Did you enjoy my concert?”

A small smile tugged at his lips, though it was more subdued than you expected. “I’ve never been to one before,” he admitted, as though the idea of thousands of Midgardians screaming and jumping to music was a foreign concept to him. “I enjoyed the part where I listened to you sing. Not so much the part being surrounded by sweaty, screaming mortals.”

That brought a soft laugh from you, the corners of your mouth lifting. “Sounds about right. Though, at least you made it through.”

He paused, as if considering whether to admit something. “I enjoyed the first song the most.”

Your smile softened as you looked away for a moment. “That one’s special,” you said quietly. “It was the first song I ever wrote. Always had a place in my heart.”

Loki watched you with interest, his gaze growing more intent. “What is it about?”

You hesitated, feeling a sudden wave of embarrassment. It wasn’t exactly casual small talk material. “It’s a bit heavy,” you confessed, turning your gaze back to him with a sheepish smile. “Not exactly the sort of thing you talk about with someone you’ve known for all of... what? A few hours?”

He seemed almost amused by your reluctance, though he kept his expression neutral. “I’ve lived for centuries, Darling,” he said, that familiar mischief flickering in his eyes. “A few hours is more than enough time.”

You smirked, not letting him get the upper hand. “I’ll tell you when we’ve known each other for a day,” you teased, the smile in your voice clear as day.

Loki opened his mouth to respond, but stopped short as a genuine smile crept onto his face. “A full day, hmm? I’ll hold you to that.”

You couldn't help yourself. Curiosity gnawed at you, and despite knowing it might be stepping on thin ice, you asked anyway. “So, what’s the deal with you and Sylvie?” The question slipped out, your voice intentionally light, but the underlying edge of suspicion was hard to miss.

Loki’s features tightened slightly, his blue eyes narrowing, a hint of confusion crossing his face. “What deal? There is no deal,” he replied, though the defensiveness in his tone was obvious.

You tilted your head, a skeptical look crossing your face as you watched him closely. “Really?” you asked, dragging out the word a little too pointedly.

“Because from where I was standing—in the middle of all that chaos—it sure seemed like there was a lot of tension in that Ferris wheel compartment before I got blasted out of it.”

Loki’s jaw tensed, and though he tried to remain composed, you caught it—just the faintest flicker of something in his eyes. Unease? Hesitation? He quickly masked it with his usual cool demeanor, but it was too late.

Loki sighed, clearly trying to steer the conversation away from dangerous waters. “It’s complicated,” he muttered, his voice lower now, avoiding your gaze.

You tilted your head further, watching him closely. “It always is, isn’t it?” you said, but this time, there was no bite to your words. Just curiosity....

Mobius plopped down beside you, his usual easy-going nature in full swing as he chimed in with a casual tone, “Loki and Sylvie? Yeah, that’s a bit of a complicated relationship.” He said it as if it were the most natural thing in the world, but the moment the words left his mouth, your jaw dropped in disbelief.

“Sorry—what?” Your eyes widened, your shock almost comical. “That’s new,” you blurted out, your voice tight with a mix of surprise and discomfort.

An awkward laugh escaped your lips as you pressed them into a thin smile, your mind racing to process the information.

“You know, I actually don’t think I needed to know that,” you muttered, feeling a strange, unfamiliar twist in your gut, like you’d just uncovered something you weren’t quite sure how to feel about.

“We’re not in a relationship,” Loki cut in quickly, his voice sharp with irritation. He shot Mobius an exasperated look, his brows pulling together in a tight line. Clearly, this was not the kind of conversation he wanted to have.

“Really?” You cocked your head, eyeing him with suspicion. “And here I was thinking it was some sort of weird emotional sibling dynamic,” you teased, trying to lighten the mood, though deep down, there was a flicker of something more—a hint of unease. “My bad.”

Loki’s lips twitched in frustration, but he said nothing. His silence was louder than words, though, and you couldn’t help but feel the weight of the unspoken tension between the two of them.

“Seriously, what in the Targaryen is this then?” you joked, your voice laced with playful sarcasm as you tried to brush off the awkwardness. But the joke landed heavier than you intended, a bitter edge clinging to it.

Mobius frowned, genuinely confused. “What’s a Targaryen?”

You blinked at him, momentarily taken aback by the confusion in his voice. “It’s just… a family with dragons,” you said, waving it off with a strained smile.

Even as you laughed it off, that strange, restless feeling refused to let go—a tug at the back of your mind. There was something about Loki that lingered, something you weren’t quite ready to confront.

You glanced at him, bathed in the warm morning light, his figure outlined in shades of gold that almost made him look like a figure from legend. He was every bit the god people whispered about, with that noble bearing and gaze that seemed to hold lifetimes of secrets.

You tried to brush it off as a simple infatuation, because he was indeed, an attractive man. You’d had a hundred fleeting crushes before; surely this was just another. Tomorrow, this feeling would be gone. At least, that’s what you told yourself as you shifted slightly, resting your head on your arms, eyelids growing heavy until, finally, sleep pulled you under.

Dreams swept over you like a thick fog, but they felt different somehow, as if they belonged to another time, another life. You could hear voices, though the faces remained hidden in shadow.

“Where have you been?” The male voice was vaguely familiar, the tone edging on impatience.

“With your mother,” came your own voice, though you couldn’t remember the conversation. You sounded brighter—full of some distant energy.

“Why?” the voice asked, confused.

“Oh, I always have tea with the Queen,” you answered, your tone filled with cheekiness. “We discuss the usual: my magic, how I’m becoming a brilliant young lady, and, of course, how I’m the daughter she never had.”

A scoff followed. “You exaggerate.”

“I don’t, I swear, darling,” you teased back, the fondness in your words almost startling. It felt as if you knew this person deeply.

There was a pause, then a serious tone, “There’s something I need to tell you.”

“What?” you asked, your tone dropping, sensing the shift.

“A betrothal,” he said, his voice heavy with something that almost sounded like hesitance.

Before the words could settle, a gentle hand shook your shoulder, pulling you back to the present. You blinked your eyes open, and Mobius was looking at you with a small smile. “D, rise and shine. Time to wake up.”

You pushed yourself upright, the fragments of the dream still lingering in your mind, leaving you with a curious, aching feeling you couldn’t place.

The rocking of the ship had only just faded from your bones when a new, sharper pain made itself known—a pounding in your head that felt as though it clawed its way from the inside out.

Even as you reached Timely’s warehouse, the pain seemed to twist and deepen, coursing through every part of you until you could hardly hear Mobius and Loki’s voices over the waves of it.

Your feet slowed as they moved ahead, and you tried to catch your breath, gripping the cold wall to ground yourself. It wasn’t a typical headache; it was as if something within you was desperate to be unleashed, like a rising tide threatening to burst through the dam.

No amount of focus seemed to hold it back, and by the time you forced yourself inside the warehouse, Renslayer had Timely in her sights, weapon drawn.

“Move any closer, and he’s done,” Renslayer warned, her voice tense.

Your vision blurred as Mobius spoke, “Stop, Ravonna. Is this the free will you wanted? Look at me. You’ve lost your way.”

But even his words became muffled under the weight of the migraine, a storm that was building into something relentless. Each heartbeat seemed to pulse through you like a wave of energy, and the ache surged, making your knees buckle slightly.

You clutched at your head, but the pain within you didn’t stop—if anything, it was only growing.

You barely registered the blast that knocked you and everyone else off their feet, the impact ringing in your ears. When you lifted your head, Sylvie had appeared, stepping toward Timely with her machete drawn. She looked ready to finish him, but just as she raised her arm, the pain in your head hit its peak—a final burst of energy that clawed its way to the surface.

You couldn’t hold it back any longer. A sharp groan escaped your lips, and everyone’s eyes snapped toward you. Loki’s face was a mix of confusion and concern, his gaze fixed on you as he called out, “Darling?”

But you could barely hear him as the power overwhelmed you, ripping free in a yell that echoed through the warehouse. A pulse of energy exploded outward from you, shattering the windows and sending everyone crashing to the floor.

And as the last of the energy left you, darkness crept in, and you felt yourself slip into unconsciousness, the echo of Loki’s voice the last thing you heard.

When the energy had dissipated, Loki rushed to your side, his gaze wide with alarm as he knelt down and gently lifted you into his arms. His expression softened, worry etched deeply into his features as he brushed a few stray strands of hair from your face, clearly shaken by what he’d just witnessed.

Before he could fully process, Victor Timely’s voice shattered the moment. He was facing down Sylvie, her machete leveled dangerously at his throat.

“Get him out of here,” she finally ordered, her voice hard, though her eyes flickered with a mix of hesitation and resolve.

Mobius didn’t need further prompting; he opened a time door nearby, his face unreadable as he took in your still form cradled in Loki’s arms. He and Loki exchanged a look—an understanding, a silent agreement—and without another word, Mobius gestured for them to go through.

With careful movements, Loki lifted you fully into his arms, feeling the weight of your limp form against him. The surge of energy you’d released—it was unmistakable. You had magic, and not just any magic. It was powerful, raw, and brimming with something he hadn’t seen in quite some time.

Together, with Timely, Mobius, and you still unconscious in his arms, Loki stepped through the time door and back into the TVA.

In the depths of your dream, that same familiar voice echoed softly, stirring something warm and distant within you.

“What would I do without you, darling?” he said, his tone playful, yet laced with something deeper.

You smirked, even in your dream, responding with that familiar sassy charm, “Die, most likely. A thousand deaths, I suppose.”

The man’s laugh was rich and smooth, almost like a melody, and it filled you with a feeling of comfort you couldn’t quite place. You felt yourself smiling, savoring the warmth of that laugh, before it all began to slip away, consciousness pulling you back to the present.

Slowly, you blinked awake, the dim lighting and metallic surroundings of the TVA coming into focus. A throbbing ache pulsed at your temples as your vision cleared, and soon you found yourself gazing up into the concerned faces of Mobius and Loki. Both looked a mix of worried and… perhaps relieved?

“What happened?” you murmured, frowning as the remnants of your dream slipped away.

“You released an extraordinary magical energy,” Loki replied, his hand steady on your shoulder as he helped you sit up. His gaze was searching, as though trying to decipher something he didn’t quite understand yet.

You frowned, rubbing at your temple, piecing together flashes of the confrontation with Renslayer. “I’m sure that was Sylvie’s doing,” you said slowly, though doubt flickered in the back of your mind. It was like trying to recall something half-forgotten yet seared into your bones.

Mobius shook his head, clicking his tongue thoughtfully. “The first blast? Yeah, that was Sylvie. But the second… well, that was all you.”

You blinked, trying to process that, and as you did, Loki’s intense gaze bore into you, his blue eyes filled with a quiet certainty. “Which means…” He paused, his voice lowering, “…you’re not entirely human.”

You pursed your lips, looking down as you mulled over your next words. “I kind of… more or less knew that,” you admitted, the weight of those words feeling heavier than expected.

Mobius snapped his fingers in front of your face, breaking the silence as both men leaned in, their expressions sharp with curiosity. “Normalize explaining, please,” he pressed, quirking a brow.

You rolled your eyes, pushing yourself off the table to stand, trying to avoid their expectant gazes. But the moment you tried to balance yourself, a wave of dizziness crashed over you.

Your vision blurred, and you swayed, feeling yourself start to fall. Just as quickly, Loki’s arm wrapped around you, steadying you and guiding you gently back onto the table.

“Easy now,” he murmured, his tone soft but firm, his hand lingering at your back as you steadied yourself.

Clearing your throat, you gave a small shrug, not quite meeting their eyes. “When I escaped the TVA and got to Earth, I tried one of those heritage tests a year later, just for fun… thought maybe I’d get some clarity on where I come from.”

Mobius’ eyebrows shot up, and he tilted his head. “Hold on—so you knew we weren’t just TVA-made creations?” His tone was incredulous.

“Sort of figured that out,” you replied with a deadpan expression, “when I got Mark from HR as my Uber driver once.”

Mobius snorted, while Loki’s gaze grew more intent, his eyes narrowing slightly. You cleared your throat again, bracing yourself.

“When I did the test, though, it came back… strange. No human DNA, not even close.” You leaned back, giving a wry smile. “And trust me, I had to pay a small fortune to keep the doctors from going public with that little revelation.”

You noticed the surprised glances exchanged between Mobius and Loki, but you waved them off dismissively, smacking your lips as you shifted the conversation. “So, is Timely dead?”

Mobius furrowed his brow in response, shaking his head. “Nope, he’s inside with OB.”

Feeling a surge of determination, you tried standing again. This time, your legs cooperated, and you found your footing. “Well, gentlemen, I do think I should be there then.”

After a quick change out of the uncomfortable corset gown into something far more practical—a tight-fitting black cotton skirt paired with a delicate, patterned top—you joined the two men. The familiar fabric felt comforting against your skin, a welcome change that allowed you to breathe easier. Together, the three of you made your way back to OB's lab, your heart racing with anticipation.

As you entered, Loki wasted no time, calling out, “OB, how’s it going?”

“Uh, we have a… we have a good plan,” OB stammered, a hint of nervous energy crackling in the air. He led you toward his machine, enthusiasm battling with anxiety. “It’s a pretty good plan.”

He motioned for you to gather around as he brought forth a mini Loom. The contraption was a jumble of wires and painted models, its haphazard design reflecting the urgency of the moment.

“Here’s a model I mocked up of the Loom. Forgive the shoddy and slapdash work. It’s not to scale. I only got one coat of paint on there. I haven’t been able to carve out figures to represent all of us,” he explained, gesturing animatedly.

You listened to OB intently, your gaze fixed on the chaotic array of machinery around the lab. The air hummed with anticipation and tension, every ticking clock and buzzing light amplifying the gravity of the moment.

Just as OB detailed the intricacies of the Loom’s mechanics, your attention was drawn to a figure in the corner of the room—a sight you hadn’t expected.

“What’s she doing here?” you blurted out, confusion etching your features as you shot Sylvie a dirty look. Her presence felt like a dark cloud looming over the proceedings.

Sylvie crossed her arms defensively, her glare piercing as she met your eyes with equal intensity. Before you could say anything else, Loki's voice filled the space, calm yet authoritative. “Sylvie wants to help.”

You raised an eyebrow, your voice dripping with sarcasm. “So we’re just going to forget how she almost killed me and Victor?” A hollow laugh escaped your lips, disbelief coloring your words. “Alright then.”

Loki opened his mouth, clearly about to say something, but Victor interjected, pointing toward another Loom. It resembled his initial design but with distinct modifications. “The Loom,” he said, his tone a mix of pride and apprehension.

OB, suddenly looking bashful, scratched the back of his neck. “I’m honestly embarrassed that Victor’s here to see it,” he admitted, his eyes darting away.

“You’re being hard on yourself. It looks great,” Mobius chimed in, his encouraging voice cutting through the tension.

"All right. What’s the plan?" Loki asked, his brows furrowed, an air of determination wrapping around him.

OB stepped forward, gesturing animatedly as he grabbed a figure to demonstrate on the mini Loom. "It’s simple," he explained, his voice steady with the weight of urgency. "One of us will have to take our Throughput Multiplier down the gangway. Load it into the launcher, then hit the green button to launch it towards the Loom."

He paused, letting the gravity of the task sink in. "It will dock with the Loom, scaling its capacity to manage the backlog of branches that was created when…" His tone shifted, dripping with sarcasm, "someone killed He Who Remains and released all those branches and ruined my life."

You subtly shot a glare at Sylvie, who stood with arms crossed, her expression a mixture of defiance and guilt.

Loki leaned in, curiosity piqued. "Hang on. What’s the connection between the Throughput Multiplier and the Loom?"

"The rings of the Loom aren’t wide enough," Casey chimed in, his voice steady but filled with concern.

"That’s correct," OB confirmed, his tone urgent. "We need to make the rings bigger so more branches can fit through. But there’s one gigantic problem."

Loki tilted his head, an eyebrow raised. "What’s that?"

“There is much, much more Temporal Radiation in here than there was when you went out there, Mobius,” OB stated, his voice thick with concern as he adjusted his glasses, eyes darting nervously between the group. The tension in the lab grew heavier, wrapping around you like a fog.

“More?” Mobius echoed incredulously, his brows furrowing. He inhaled sharply, then turned to Loki, determination etched on his face. “Okay, well, I mean, Loki’s really gonna have to hoof it then, right?”

Loki frowned, his ocean eyes widening in surprise as he met Mobius’s gaze. “Hang on a second. Why is it suddenly me having to hoof it?” He crossed his arms, an unmistakable petulance creeping into his posture.

“Because it’s your turn,” Mobius replied simply, shrugging as if it were the most logical conclusion.

“Says who?” Loki huffed, his frustration palpable. “Why? Why is it suddenly me?”

“Clearly, this isn’t me,” Mobius retorted.

You couldn’t help but watch their playful banter unfold, an amused smile creeping across your lips. “Just because it isn’t you doesn’t mean it isn’t me,” Loki added.

Mobius pointed to the miniature figure that OB had placed on the mini Loom. “It’s got your shape.”

“It’s got my shape?” Loki echoed incredulously, raising an eyebrow.

“And here I thought you were supposed to be this indestructible god,” you chimed in, unable to resist the urge to tease him further.

Loki turned to you, mock betrayal etched across his face. “Oh, I am, Darling,” he said, puffing out his chest slightly. “I most certainly am. But the fact remains—it’s a suit. It could be anybody.”

“It's wearing a helmet,” Sylvie interjected, irritation lacing her voice. “Doesn’t look like anyone.”

“Uh…” OB interjected, adjusting his glasses as he gathered his thoughts, his gaze darting between the group. “It doesn’t matter who it is. It’s doable. But this person just needs to be… woosh super-fast.”

“Okay, great. So, what are we waiting for? Let’s do this!” Sylvie clapped her hands together. You had to restrain yourself from scoffing; the situation was complicated enough without her unwittingly playing the role of instigator in all of this.

“There’s another problem,” Casey chimed in, a hint of concern creasing his brow.

“What’s that?” Loki asked, exasperation edging into his tone. He ran a hand through his dark hair, clearly growing impatient.

“This whole plan is only theoretical because our Throughput Multiplier doesn’t yet work,” OB replied softly, his voice filled with uncertainty.

“Why?” Loki pressed, his curiosity piqued.

“Wait,” Victor interrupted, raising a finger as if he’d just made a brilliant discovery. Everyone turned to him, intrigued. “Let me guess. The Loom’s temporal decay outpaces your Multiplier’s throughput capabilities.”

“Every time, yeah. How did you know that?” Casey shot back, surprised.

“Because I had the same problem with my Loom… until I made this.” Victor produced a small device from his pocket, holding it up like a trophy. “It’s a prototype. Still.”

Loki took a cautious step closer, narrowing his eyes at the device. “OB, it’ll work?”

“Integrating them, if that would even work, would take a long time,” OB replied, his voice tinged with uncertainty. He rubbed his temples as if trying to fend off a brewing headache from all the possibilities swirling around them.

Victor’s confidence, however, was unwavering. “Mr. Ouroboros,” he began, locking eyes with OB, “if anyone can make this happen, it’s you and me.” He extended his hand, and OB grasped it firmly.

Then OB turned his gaze to you, a hint of hope igniting in his expression as he added. “I think Darling could help too.”

Your heart fluttered at the mention of your name, a rush of excitement coursing through you. A surprised smile broke across your face, lighting up the dimly lit lab. “I’d love to, gentlemen. Just give me five,” you replied, your voice a harmonious blend of lightness and determination.

As you walked out of the room alongside Mobius, Loki, and Sylvie, Mobius turned to you, his trademark grin appearing as he casually murmured, “All right, let’s have a little pie while we wait.”

The mere thought of pie sent a warm flutter through your stomach, a brief distraction from the chaos surrounding you. Just as you opened your mouth to respond, Sylvie’s irritated voice sliced through the moment like a knife. “Pie?”

Mobius blinked, clearly taken aback by her reaction. “Yeah?” he said, confusion lacing his tone.

Sylvie crossed her arms, her frustration palpable. “What is the matter with you? You dragged me back here begging for help, so you must have some idea of what’s happening. Everything is turning to shit, and you want to leave it to them while we go and have some pie? Great idea, Mobius,” she spat, her words dripping with sarcasm.

“Sylvie, wait—” Loki interjected, his voice calm but strained, trying to bridge the rising tension.

“No, I won’t wait,” she snapped, her eyes blazing. Turning to Mobius, she continued with a scathing edge, “Come on. Let’s go and get some pie. Why not? It’s a great idea. Clocks don’t tick at the TVA, do they? You found out you’re a Variant, and you haven’t even looked, have you? It’s just another bad day at the office for you. Timelines are just lines on a monitor. Doesn’t matter if a few disappear. Because you’ve never bothered to look if one of them was yours. Does it even matter that the branches are dying?”

As she launched into her diatribe, you could feel your eye twitching at her relentless tone. With a huff of exasperation, you let out a huge scoff, your irritation bubbling over. “Because of you, sweetheart,” you shot back, your voice steady despite the tension.

Sylvie’s gaze snapped to you, narrowed and simmering with defiance. “Excuse me?”

“Yes, excuse you,” you replied, your tone firm as you stepped forward, undeterred. “Last I checked, no one dragged you here kicking and screaming. You came back of your own free will. And ever since, all you’ve done is complain, rather than help fix this situation that, frankly, you caused.”

She scoffed, crossing her arms. “I don’t see you helping,” she shot back.

“Oh, I’m about to,” you said, unbothered. “Once I’m in the right mindset, of course.” You held her gaze, unflinching. “And you know what? I think I’ve earned myself a bit of fucking pie after nearly drowning—thanks to you, mind you. And, FYI, I think I might have a bit of aquaphobia now. So maybe, just maybe, you could stop trying to be the victim so bad and actually do something useful instead of standing around, casting blame like it’s a sport.”

For a split second, Sylvie just looked you up and down, her jaw clenched. Then, with a dismissive huff, she turned on her heel and stormed off without a word. You rolled your eyes, not particularly fazed, but noticed Loki take a step to follow her.

“Wait,” you interjected, your tone edged with incredulity. “You’re really going to run after her after that little tantrum?”

Loki hesitated, torn between you and Sylvie’s retreating form. His brow furrowed, conflicted, but you shook your head, irritation flaring as you let out a heavy sigh then you reached for Mobius instead. He still looked solemn, her words clearly weighing on him.

“Come on, Mobius,” you said, slipping your arm through his with a gentle tug. “Let’s get that pie. I could use a bit of sweetness after all this.”

Mobius glanced down, managing a small, grateful smile as he nodded. You gave him a reassuring squeeze, just a little as you led him away, not looking back.

taglist

@eleniblue @nishayuro @astrynyx @agustdpeach

Hope You Enjoyed 💚💛

[theidiotwhowritesthings]

I am IN LOVE with your writing!  I’m a dedicated reader! 💓💓 thanks for taking the time to do it!

Hear me out. Reader pulls a 24 hour shift in the local clinic on a busy day and we get a protective worried din?

He would also be busy but he would definitely pull reader out and make her take a nap AT LEAST. 😂 anyway, I just thought that would be cute to think about.

I hope you have a wonderful day and keep up the good work! 

[a/n: anybody wanna guess how many times it took me to try and post this b/c tumblr wanted to keep glitching and destroying it?? FUCKING FOUR. lord, im gonna go scream in a pillow. anyways, thanks anon for the great idea! also pls consider this my apology for the cliffhanger that i am so sorry (but not really) for.]

'A FRESH START' DELETED SCENE

Din Djarin x Female!Reader

Warnings: reader overworks herself, mentions of injuries (burns specifically) but not in great detail

Word Count: 1,934

Summary: Everyone needs a break, and Din is hell bent on ensuring you don't skip yours.

#MID 17: TAKE A BREAK, DOC

[so not between chapters, but a scene within one of the time breaks in chapter 17.]

.

"be with someone who will take care of you. not materialistically but take care of your soul, your well being, your heart, and everything that's you." -unknown

.

Trying to get the emergency clinic established was not easy. You agreed to the job, and Karga had given you free reign. The High Magistrate was essentially allowing you to run the clinic as you saw fit. Which in part was fantastic because it gave you incredible freedom, but it was also your worst nightmare. All your training had taught you was how to handle the medical aspect of an office. The business and organization side was a whole other issue. Especially because the people of Nevarro were not understanding that this was for emergencies only. 

“My ankle hurts.”

“Alright, when did this start? When did you get hurt?”

“I twisted it while jogging three years ago.”

“You⏤ Wait, what?”

In order for this to work the way it needed to, you’d have to focus on actual emergencies only. Alone you would never be able to handle the patient load that would come with servicing an entire city. Plus, you really didn’t want to. The amount of time it would take to even attempt that was insane, and Din needed your help with Grogu.

So, the plan would be to establish that this clinic was emergencies only, emphasize it to everyone who walked in the door, but for today you’d manage all the small, routine problems.

Just for today.

By lunch time, you had already seen 47 patients. None of which were emergent. In fact, the biggest injury was a young man who had dropped a glass plate at home and accidentally cut his hand. He needed four stitches. 

“Aayla?”

“Four more in the waiting room, doctor!” Aayla called out without even having to be asked the question. She was a gift from the Maker today. Already, you had decided to try training her more in depth medically and hire someone else to work the front desk. “You also have a guest.

“What?” You breathed, barely able to catch her words.

Aayla didn’t need to repeat herself because that was the moment Din swept into the room with the same confident strut he naturally seemed to have. At the sight of him, you couldn’t help but let out a sigh of relief as your lips curled up into a smile.

“What is going on?” Din asked as he drifted closer to you. There were still two patients sitting on cots waiting for you to finish with them, but Din commandeered your attention by settling his hand on your lower back and staring down at you. Even through the helmet you could feel his concerned gaze. “Why are you so busy? I thought you were hired for emergencies only.”

“I was, but apparently nobody told all of Nevarro that.”

Din stiffened. “Did Karga⏤”

“No. I don’t think he tricked me into this or that this was on purpose.” You said quickly. “And everyone who comes in, I’m telling them that from now on it’s emergencies only.”

“But today?”

“Today, I am seeing every Nevarro citizen.” You chuckled. “You want a check up, Mando?”

“Ner kar’ta,” Din shook his head, “Have you taken any breaks at all?” You shot him a sheepish smile. “Come. Let’s get lunch.”

“I can’t. I’ll just get further behind.” You mumbled. Din looked like he was ready to argue with you. In fact, his hands even drifted to his hips as his head tilted. You had seen him take on the same stance before lecturing Grogu. You wrapped your hands around his forearm and gave him the most reassuring smile you could muster. “It’s fine. I’m just sorry I’m bailing on you for lunch.” He sighed. “You poor thing, now you’ll have to spend more time with Mayfeld.”

Din huffed and you chuckled. Aayla called out that more people were filling the space, and for a second you thought the Mandalorian Marshal was considering sending everybody home just so you could have a moment for lunch. You squeezed his forearm. 

“Fine.” Din grumbled.

“Also, I know this won’t help my argument or convince you of anything, but,” You scrunched your nose with a small wince, “Do you think you can pick up Grogu today?”

Din seemed taken aback based on his voice alone, “How long do you plan on staying?”

You knew his question was one more focused on the concern of you staying here for too long versus him being upset that you couldn’t get Grogu. When you shot him another sheepish smile he just grumbled under his breath in Mando’a. Din caught you off guard by leaning forward to lightly rest his forehead against yours for a second. 

“This conversation isn’t over.” Din said simply and you just chuckled in response.

He squeezed your hand once before leaving and you were forced to return to the patients you had. Ten minutes passed at the most, you got two patients out with Aayla’s help, when Din’s heavy footfalls returned. You glanced over your shoulder to see he was holding a bag of food. He crossed the space to set the bag in your hands and you peered in to see it was your favorite sandwich from the local shop. Your eyes glanced back up at him with a grin. The warmth of being seen and known settling in your chest.

“Eat.” Din said firmly.

“Thank you.” You replied. “I’ll eat it as soon as⏤”

“No.” He interrupted. A tilt to his head and a challenge in his voice. “I’m not leaving until I watch you take a few bites. At the least.”

You rolled your eyes, in good nature, and handed him the bag so you could wash your hands in the sink off to the side. On your way back to Din, you asked Aayla to bandage one patient’s knee and get imaging of another patient’s hand. Din had already pulled out your sandwich to set on the desk you had brought into the corner. Before you could reach for it, Din pointed to the desk chair. With a chuckle you dropped down into the seat, the first time you were off your feet all morning, and only then did Din push the sandwich toward you. 

“Thanks.” You said after your first bite. More sincere than your last. Din was leaning against the desk beside you. Close enough that your arm could press against his thigh if you moved it over even an inch. “You didn’t have to do this.”

“Apparently, I did.” Din chuckled. “Otherwise, you wouldn’t have eaten at all.”

You couldn't argue. Instead, you just shook your head, “Not gonna lie, I always did have a bad habit of getting caught up in my work.”

“Why does that not surprise me?”

“Doctor, can you take a look at this?” Aayla called out.

You quickly took one last, large bite of your sandwich before standing. Din pushed off the desk to tower over you again. He nodded. “I’ll pick up Grogu, but if you’re not home by 5 I’m coming back to drag you home.”

“Is that a threat or a promise?” You teased.

Din leaned over to lightly tap his forehead against yours and you chuckled. He reached over to pick up your sandwich and held it up towards you. You raised an eyebrow at him, but he didn’t budge. Rolling your eyes, you leaned over and took another bite. Holding a hand over your mouth, tucking the food into your cheek, you spoke. “Happy?”

“Yes. Be careful. Message me if you need anything.”

You watched him leave with a bemused smile.

Never before had you been so acutely aware of the saying ‘when it rains, it pours’. Today had already been stressful and busy so it would make sense that at 4:25 in the afternoon an actual emergency rolled in. Nothing to test and stretch your skills like having to handle a trauma case after a full day of working. There had been an incident, on the other side of this world deep in the lava plains, where a group of smugglers got a bit too close to a river of lava with their weapons and nearly blew one another sky high. 

The least injured of the three had flown them in. She had some superficial burns all along her left side. Then the other two had third degree burns that required some serious fluid replacement. You didn’t stop working, barely paused to take a breath, until all three were stable and resting comfortably. Only then did you drop down into your desk’s chair and rest your head on your arms with a sigh. 

About twenty minutes later, a pair of hands settled on your shoulders, squeezing in comfort, and you would’ve been startled if you didn’t recognize the creak of Din’s leather with the comforting smell of his flight suit’s detergent and the polish used on his beskar. 

“What time is it?” You groaned.

“8:42.”

“You’re nearly four hours late.”

Din squeezed your shoulders once more before letting a hand settle on the back of your neck. You found the weight of it grounded you. “I got here at 4:50. Saw you were busy with something important. Left then came back.” His thumb caressed your skin, and you pushed your head up to glance at him. Din had the hand not on your neck resting on the desk. “You alright?”

“Just tired.” You mumbled and rubbed your face with one hand. “Grogu?”

“He’s with Peli. Missed you at dinner though.” Din replied. “He acts up when you’re not around.”

“No, no. He’s a perfect angel, always.”

Din snorted at that, and the sound made you chuckle. You glanced over at the cots that held the three smugglers who slept soundly. All their vitals still stable. Din’s hand slipped down to rub your upper back soothingly. “You coming home?”

“I can’t. Not until the emergency shuttle gets here to pick those three up.” You sighed. “They have to be at a facility with a higher level of care than just me.”

“‘Just you’ saved their lives.”

“You know what I mean.” You shrugged. “You should go though.” Din tilted his head. “There’s no telling how long it’ll take for the ship to get here. I already sent Aayla home. I’m just babysitting right now. You should pick up Grogu and head home. Get some sleep.”

Din shook his head as if it were the stupidest thing you had ever said. He gently wrapped his hand around your upper arm and pulled you up from your seat. You let him drag you along to the fourth cot in the room which was currently empty. “You sleep. I’ll babysit.” 

“Din…”

He lightly pushed down on your shoulders until you were seated on the cot. You stared up at him in question, but he just shook his head. “If something changes with their status I’ll wake you.” Din pushed you down a little further so you were laying down. The moment your body hit the relatively soft bed you felt yourself sink into it with exhaustion. Din went to walk, but you grabbed his hand and tugged him toward the cot as well.

“You can babysit while laying down, can’t you?”

“My armor isn’t gonna be much of a pillow.”

“Neither is this cot.”

Din chuckled and dropped down to lay beside you. You rested your head on his chest, the cool metal of the beskar biting into your warm cheek, and just sighed. It hadn’t occurred to you how tired you truly were until now. Din had an arm wrapped around you so he could grasp your shoulder with his hand and use his thumb to trace patterns there.

“Take a break, doc.” Din hummed. “I got you.”

taglist:

@aheadfullofsteverogers @yyiikes @kneelforloki @c-ms1ut @sgt-morgan @luthienaliceisilra @fawn-kitten @missbabyjay @coldlamaspersonspy @dilfsaremyfavourite @jamesbuckybarnes @yorkeylover @teawrites01 @emily-roberts @djarinxore @impala1967666 @shelbyteller @faithrenner @dindjarindude @dankfarrick29 @rh1nestonecowg1rl @garbo-lesbo @anythingforattention @tearfulsolace @onceinamando @catharinaroxastova @uwu-i-purple-you @modiddys-blog @stagerightlauren @mini-bees @xxinvisblexx @adoringanakin @sagegreensensei @spidey-3 @sydney-1209 @thepascalofus @hrtsforpascal @banana-lol @daybleedsintonightfall11 @lil-dragon-draws @guccistardust @ideajpeg @harriedandharassed @leithatnight @elfamosotoga @damnzelsoul @the-anchored-sailor-girl @morks-watermelon @katelynmarieyt @taylorann2013 @chonkercatto @dheet @liadamerondjarin @fallinallinmendes @missdicaprio @jennaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa @alphaash99 @djarinsmixtape @pcrushinnerd @closedaddition @thelovelyhann @harrys-sunflower-bakery @mayaaaaah @theway-thisis

[sunscreenstudies]

A Step-by-Step Guide for Socially Anxious Email Senders

Read the horrible, horrible email you have to reply to and then feel relief at the fact that "well, at least it's not a phone call!"

Determine what parts you have to reply to i.e. if they asked you a question about something or if there's a part where you need to ask them a question about something

Set a timer for 2 min, 5 min, or 10 min depending on the importance of the email, but no longer!

Write your greeting: "Hi [their first name]" for friendlies, "Dear Mr/Ms/Dr [their last name]" for acquaintances

Write your ending (Yes, we're doing this now before we write anything else): "Best wishes, [your first name]" for friendlies, "Kind Regards, [your first and last name]" for acquaintances

Write "Hope you're well!" This is a game changer because now they know you're thinking of them BUT they don't feel like they have to answer in the way that typing "How are you?" does. Plus, the exclamation mark always helps to lighten up an email that otherwise might feel stuffy.

Answer their questions. If they asked multiple, then split up your answers with filler phrases such as "In relation to...", "In regard to...", "As for...", etc. Finish your paragraph with "I hope this helps, but if you have any further questions, please feel free to ask!"

Ask your questions. If you don't have any questions, then find the most complicated/unclear part of their email, rephrase it, and throw it in after a "Just a quick note to confirm my understanding of the project: [the rephrased bit]". This will let them know that you did thoroughly read their email, and it also provides them with an excuse to email you back with "yes, you're right" or "actually..." which removes the awkwardness they might be feeling as to whether there's any need to reply to your email or not. Finish your paragraph with "Thank you!" (it never hurts to be nice)

Check for spelling or grammar mistakes (if you don't have an extension like Grammarly, then copy and paste your email into Google Docs/Word doc/LibraOffice doc/etc. to check for errors there. Once you've corrected them, copy and paste the corrected text back into your email, replacing the original text)

Reread your email three times. Look at me. Look. At. Me. Three times. That's it! No more and no less! Your timer should have gone off by now, so times up, tough luck, you have to send it, the timer said so. If your timer hasn't gone off yet, then congrats! You beat the clock! Now let's celebrate by sending that horrible email immediatley.

Check your "sent" email box once - just once - to make sure that your email did successfully send and to shut up that part of your brain that's going "but what if they didn't get it?!" They got it. Exit your email browser/app.

Turn your phone/laptop on "do not disturb", leave your desk, make yourself a big mug of something hot (I personally prefer black tea, but you could make tea, coffee, hot chocolate, soup, etc. - whatever you enjoy the most!). Bonus Points: If you're at home or in an enclosed office, then throw on your favourite song or a dancing playlist, and spend five minutes dancing and shaking off that nervous energy before getting back to work. Congratulations: You did it!

[crazycurly-77]

Lost in the Jungle - pt. 8

“What did you do in Ecuador?” your boyfriend asked as you all were finally up in the air and on your way home. 

Thankfully the painkillers from Ducky which Jethro gave you were starting to take effect and it was such a great relief that the pain was finally lessening. 

You've been waiting for this question, but unfortunately you couldn't answer it for him, no matter how much you wanted to.

“He must have been going through hell the last few days and hours,” you thought as he looked at you with a worried, relieved, but also questioning look.

You felt guilty because he had to endure such fear of loss because of you and you couldn't even tell him why you were here. Hopefully he would understand this based on his own experiences. You would certainly have trouble with it yourself.

“I'm sorry, but I can't tell you. The mission is classified. But at least it was successful,” you answered as best as you could. 

Gibbs only hung his head, nodded and then mumbled “at least you are back at my side.”

You grabbed his hand and squeezed it. Smiling at him you answered softly “thanks to you.” He locked eyes with you and smiled back. 

He wished very much that he knew what this mission was, but since it's classified there was no chance of knowing. He knew that from his own missions. 

So you both sat in silence, holding hands and followed your own thoughts.

Tim was silent as well. He didn't want to disturb this moment of familiarity and intimacy between you. 

After landing in D.C. you said goodbye to Stan and Olli and then Gibbs, Tim and you were on your way to the hospital. 

Arriving there you were taken to the examination room and Gibbs and Tim had to stay outside during the examination. 

While they were waiting, Gibbs called Tony “DiNozzo. We're back in D.C. We found her and she's being examined in the Bethesda hospital at the moment.”

“Wonderful! I'll tell the others and then come to you,” Tony answered excitedly and Gibbs hung up.

The exam didn't take long, but for your boyfriend and your best friend, it took what felt like an eternity. 

And before long you were brought outside in a wheelchair with your left lower leg in a plaster cast. 

Immediately they came to you “what's up? Everything okay?” 

“Yes,” the doc replied. “She has a few scratches and bruises and a broken leg, but nothing that will not heal given time.

We'll keep her here overnight for observation and you can take her home tomorrow. But the plaster must remain for the next 6 weeks. If you'll excuse me now, I need to check on my other patients. Her room number is 212, if you would be kind enough to take her there.”

Gibbs nodded and drove you to your room. On your way you chatted with Tim the whole time and as the three of you arrived there, both helped you into bed. 

Tim went to get an additional pillow for you, so Jethro and you could talk in private. 

He sat on your bed, held your hand, squeezed it and watched you lovingly. You watched him equally smitten and mumbled full of love “thank you for rescuing me.”

He smiled and answered softly “I would do it again and again, because I don't know what to do without you. But please, don't scare me so much again.”

His heartbroken look made your heart fly out to him. So you sat up, cupped his cheek and kissed him passionately and he immediately responded to you. 

Right in this blissful and intimate moment the door swung open and Jenny, Abby and Ducky walked into the room. Of course Tony walked in first and saw you both kissing. 

Tim ran hurriedly behind them into the room and said apologetically “I'm sorry boss. I tried to stop them.”

Embarrassed, you leaned your head on Gibbs’ chest while he laid his chin on your head frustrated, wrapped you in his arms, sighed because of the interruption and just answered “it's okay, McGee.” 

Everyone was standing in the room, didn't move and didn't say a word, but looked very amazed at you two. 

You just hoped that Tony would once in a lifetime cease to make jokes, but no. That wouldn't be Tony.

Of course, he had to say what everyone was probably thinking “wow, did I see what I think I saw?” he asked the obvious excitedly. 

Your head turned hot red, you looked down at your hands and mumbled shyly “Uhm, yes.”

He leaned on the foot of your bed “so you and our boss?” he wiggled with his eyebrows. 

“Uhm, yeah” you answered grinning. 

Then Gibbs joined the conversation and simply stated warningly “DiNozzo.”

But Tony didn't let up “since when has this been going on between you two?”

Gibbs answered directly, “6 months.”

You were shocked about him blabbing about this and squealed “Jethro!” 

He just looked at you, shrugged his shoulders and reasoned “let them know, they are family.”

Then Tony raised his hands in surrender and said “okay, okay. We just came to say hello and watch how you are doing, Y/N. 

And we have found out what happened. 

More specifically, why you were shot down and by whom.”

(To be continued...in Chapter 9 - the last!!!)

---------------------------------------------

Here you will find the other chapters of this story and the other stories I've written to date.

----------------------------------------------

Tags: @ilovemark1951, @hobby27

----------------------------------------------

[greetingfromthedead]

7. Sacrifice Sleep

Series: Apple Blossoms

Pairing: Knives x GN!Reader

Word count: 3.2k

← Previous Chapter | Next Chapter →

Dawn creeps over the dunes, rays of sunlight breaking through from between the houses as you stumble out of the tent. You rip the mask from your face with shaking hands, taking a deep breath. For the first time, it's unrestrained, the stench of decay mostly gone. You look around at the empty streets; the town is still asleep, or at least pretending to be. The screams of pain still echo in your head like a ringing in your ears that won't go away. Squatting low to the ground, it is hard to keep your exhausted eyes open. All night you've scraped and cut infected flesh from raw wounds until you reach healthy-looking tissue. You've stitched up what you could, but many wounds you had to cauterize to stop the bleeding and hopefully burn away the infection. Two men, who came to help you after hearing the screams, exit the tent, carrying your last patient on a stretcher to move them to a clean environment as per your instructions. You watch them leave, knowing that whoever remains will die sooner rather than later. About half are still left; all you could do for them was to make them drink some tea that would help them sleep and hopefully escape the agony that comes with being awake.

Another deep breath, and you force yourself up with the last strength that's left in your bones. Clutching the cloth that has covered your head and face all night, you walk down the street to the inn. The receptionist was clearly waiting for you but had fallen asleep behind the desk. The bell that rings as you open the door is what wakes her, and she blinks in your direction before coming to her senses.

"Doc! My goodness, it's dawn! You only just now made it here?" Her voice is high with surprise. "I'd ask if you needed anything, but you look like the only thing you need is to go to bed! Here, have the second key to the room. I'm sorry it's not much, but it is the last one we had."

You just nod and take the key from her outstretched hand. The words of thanks you want to speak get lost somewhere in the maze between your brain and mouth. You have to focus hard to understand the directions she gives you, but eventually manage to commit them to memory and follow them to a heavy door. Leaning your side against the wall, you try to stick the key in the lock, but it wouldn't budge, as if stuffed with something, so you push the handle down, and the door opens. You don't stop to think too hard on it as soon as you see the singular large fluffy bed that's to one side of the dim room, the curtains keeping the light still out. Just to be sure, you check the number on your key chain to the number on the door and then go in. The last worry is wiped away as you notice your bag on the floor. You close the door with a sigh of relief and see that a copy of your own key is already in the lock. You turn it, and the deadbolt clicks into place.

You strip layers of clothing away, letting them fall to the ground with each step you take closer to the bed. The thought of looking for some clean clothes for sleeping does cross your mind, but by the time you reach the edge of the bed in your underwear, your bag seems too far away and the blanket is too tantalizing. You make the mistake of sitting down to pull your socks off, and that's when it becomes clear that you won't get out again.

Just a moment longer. I will just rest my head for a minute. You think to yourself as you lay on your side, head on the pillow, but your body is too heavy to move it enough to get under the soft covers. Sleep claims you the moment your eyes fall shut. It's as if the whole bed shifts, the blanket envelops you in its embrace, even the side that was left out gets covered by the soft fabric, and it pulls you further into the bed, away from the edge. You know that because you have to hold on tighter to your pillow or you would have rolled off it just before drifting to sleep.

When you finally wake up, the room is hot and stuffy, the curtains diffuse the bright light of high noon, and you groggily sit up to look for your canteen. Your nose and throat are dry as parchment, making you feel like you're suffocating. As soon as you sit up, you see the container on the floor, right next to your bed, but you aren't sure how it got there. Instead of questioning that, you grab it to drink deeply, soothing the discomfort. With a sigh, you rub your eyes. You are still tired, woken up by the light and thirst, not because you've rested enough. But you might as well get up; there is a lot you need to get done.

You sit on the edge of the bed, wrapped up in the nice blanket that feels comforting against your skin, contemplating everything you did during the night, when you notice the tray on the little table under the window. It looks like breakfast. Some coffee and a bowl of porridge with some bread and what looks like jam. Suddenly you're reminded that it has been a while since your last meal, and you get up to look at it more closely. Everything has gone cold; it must have been at least a few hours since it was brought here, and that's the next question: who brought it here? Could it have been the receptionist? That doesn't seem quite right. You doubt she would have come in this morning. But nothing else makes sense either.

As you think about the mystery, the door behind you opens quietly, and you turn around. Immediately you pull the blanket tighter around you as you see Knives enter the room.

"What are you doing here?" you exclaim as a reaction and see his gaze move up to look at your face.

"What do you mean? It's my room as much as yours," he responds matter-of-factly.

"What?" you ask in confusion, your mouth hanging open.

"There was just one room. I thought you would have realized that we're sharing." Knives's words hold no real emotion; it feels more like he is stating facts. You wonder what is going through his head. "Anyway, you made it in very late. You poured yourself into your work again, didn't you? Same as with me, no regard for yourself. You should go back to sleep."

"I should get back to work; check on those I treated and those I haven't gotten to yet," you respond and turn away from him to look at the tray of breakfast, the blanket still clutched tightly around you.

"Didn't you say it is better to be rested than to run on empty?" he echoes your sentiment from a few days ago.

"Yeah, well, maybe you should help me a bit, apprentice?" you say teasingly and look over your shoulder.

"Maybe I will," he responds to your surprise. "But that reminds me… Dave? Really?"

"I panicked!" You try to defend yourself.

"And that's the first thing you came up with? I would understand you shortening it to Nai or something, but I don't think I look like a Dave," he says casually and heads back to the door.

"Nai? Yeah, I'm sure nobody would see through that." You nod and look back to the cup of coffee until you hear the door closing again. You make sure you're alone before getting dressed in clean clothes and digging into the stale breakfast.

Knives lingers behind the door, unsure where to go or what to do. He feels strange. Almost like he's getting sick to his stomach, but also not. It's a feeling he can't quite place. It irritates him. It's like a pit in his belly that has been turned inside out, suddenly too full, pressing against his lungs and his spine, a balloon of some kind, moving and twisting, almost alive. Yet not forceful, gentle even. He just hopes it has nothing to do with the injury in his side; he doesn't want to rely on your mercy any longer. He wants to be able to put trust in his own body and push forward with his own strength. He leans against the wall beside the door and waits for you.

The memory of this morning comes into his head. The way you dragged your exhausted body through the room, shedding layers of clothing with every step, your only goal to collapse into bed and fall asleep. He is sure you didn't see him there; the only thing you had your eyes on was the softness of the pillow awaiting you. You were completely oblivious to his presence; you just muttered something incoherent, too exhausted to change clothes, as you laid down on top of the blanket and fell away almost as soon as your head touched the pillow. You laid next to him, on the very edge of the bed. With the restlessness you demonstrated the last few nights, Knives knew you would fall off sooner rather than later. He made peace with you ruining his rest, so he threw the blanket off him and over you before grabbing it and pulling you towards the center of the mattress. He was sure you had already drifted off, not realizing anything that he did before he got out of bed to get started on his day earlier than he anticipated.

He wandered the inn, but that only occupied him for a short while. He realized all the rooms are filled, and from what he gathered last night, he put two and two together, figuring those are all sick people, quarantined away from the few who are still healthy in their families. He wonders what you did all night; what could it be for you to find it cruel? Matching evil does sound familiar to him. To fight something bad with something worse for a better goal. To him, it seems like a necessary sacrifice, but human cruelty has always been its own thing in his eyes. It has been the evil he has fought, not the tool to accomplish something good.

Knives waits for you outside the room, standing next to the door almost like a guard. It feels wrong. He's not sure what bothers him more—is it the fact that he is basically chained to you, waiting for your command and guidance, or because he feels like he has no place here? He spent the morning downstairs, turning the pages of old and dusty books while ignoring the presence of the people who walked through the room, but he doesn't want to go back there again. He hates to admit it, but he prefers your company; however, you too more or less kicked him out. He wonders if you're eating the food he brought upstairs for you. Knives doesn't know why it matters, but deep down, a part of him wants you to appreciate his efforts. He tries to wipe that lingering feeling away; the stray thought and admission is a thorn in his side, so he places his hand over the healing wound, pressing on it to feel the dull pain that is real, not something unimportant and imaginary that troubles his thoughts.

After a short while, the door to your room opens, and you walk out, startled by Knives's presence right next to you. He pushes off the wall, acting as if he hadn't been waiting for you, his expression neutral, almost bored. His eyes glance into the room to spot the tray with dirty dishes on the table—all the food eaten and gone.

"Do you need something from in there?" you ask him.

"No," Knives responds and simply walks away, heading along the hallway.

"What about the mask?" you remind him, but you see how he pulls the familiar fabric from his pocket without looking at you. "Good! Wear it!"

You follow your own instructions, tying the cloth around your face tightly after locking the door, and you watch Knives do the same while he keeps walking. You have to hasten your step to catch up to him, but do so before you reach the metal staircase that's covered by carpet. Together, you head out from the inn. You see a few people milling about. A few recognize you and greet you warmly, expressing their gratitude and how they can't wait to be seen by you. It takes quite a bit for you to act casual, with a friendly smile on your lips as you assure them you will be with them soon, not wanting to let on to the treatment methods you've resorted to.

The first order of business is to go to the patients you dealt with during the night. They were moved to the local saloon that had been the last place with still some room. As you enter, you see that the tables have all been pushed to the edges of the floor, and mats with clean sheets have been spread out in the center for the patients to rest on. They still look weak, many groaning with pain. Jenny moves between them, helping cups of water to their lips, checking for their temperatures, and taking notes for every patient.

"Doc!" she greets you cheerily as she notices your presence.

"How are they doing? Have you checked on their wounds?" you ask back, taking a step closer and looking for the supplies you ordered to be brought here.

"Incredible! I have a hard time believing these are the same people that were still in that tent only yesterday! The wounds look good; no sign of rotting flesh!" Jenny responds and comes closer. She looks older like this, her face covered by a mask, long gloves covering her arms, and a white apron over her regular clothes. Like this, it is easy to forget she is only a teenager.

"It's too early to tell. But thank you for checking on them! I appreciate it!" you smile, relieved to hear that, at least for now, your theory has not been proven wrong.

"I see what you did," her voice gets lower, a bit sadder, "you cut out the bad parts, burned the wounds to sterilize them, and stopped the bleeding. The thought crossed my mind, but I was too scared to try. I can't stand causing someone pain."

"It's okay; this might not have worked at all. We'll have to wait and see. Hopefully we will get some more painkillers today." you console the young girl as you pull on gloves of your own.

Knives watches the exchange go down. He keeps his expression uninterested, but he is somewhat surprised to hear what you did and even more so to hear that something like this crossed the mind of a young girl. Is this what you meant when you said humans were survivors? Does facing down cruel choices and accepting them help your kind to keep going?

"Jenny?" a weak voice calls out.

"Coming, Mr. Dun!" The girl chimes, her voice like a bell, and smiles at you before turning towards the patients again.

At the same time, the doors of the saloon swing open, and two men in cloaks step inside. You react by turning your head to see them, and immediately you recognize the figures from your past encounters with them. A worrisome thought flashes through your head, and you use the fact that you stand farther away from the door to your advantage. Quickly, you take Knives's hand and walk around him, essentially switching places to have him with his back towards the door. His eyes peer from between the two pieces of cloth covering his face. Instead of analyzing his expression, you let go of his hand, picking up a crate of bandages from a table and handing it to him.

"Take these; we should go see what state the clinic is in and prepare to start treating those who are still on their feet." you speak casually to him, just loud enough that the men at the door could hear you.

Knives's eyes still stay on you, but it is evident that he realizes something is going on as you lean closer to his face.

"Military police," you whisper to him, putting his wide chest between yourself and the men so they wouldn't see this.

"Hello! We came to see how things were going. We've heard troubling news." One of the young men speaks up.

"Hi! Stephen!" Jenny speaks up, and you're glad she does. "Good to see you! I think things are looking up! Doc arrived last night and has already seen to all these people here! They are doing so much better than there were just last night!"

You quickly pick up a few packets of suture kits so as to not appear empty handed before heading to the door, giving Knives a knowing look, which is to mean that he should follow you and keep a low profile.

"I'm glad to see you made it, Doc!" Stephen tells you with a dashing smile as you pass him, the other man staying quiet, a dutiful look on his face. He isn't a local, unlike his partner, but he has tended to these parts for quite a few years. He's a man of few words, but his skills speak volumes.

"Good to see you two!" You force a carefree smile, hoping it shows up in your eyes. "I'd stay and chat, but my work has only just started."

You see how both of their gazes shift from you to Knives, who follows you close behind, but you don't notice any change in their expressions, and you take it to mean that they don't recognize him from the wanted posters that hang even on this saloon's walls. With a nod, you pass the men and exit into the hot midday air. You don't say a word, worried the police might get suspicious, and head down the road towards the tent.

"Hey, Doc! Dave!" A cheerful voice pipes up from behind you, and as you turn around, you see Marvin approaching on a tomas. "Just the people I hoped to see!"

"Hello, Marvin! How can I help?" you respond, and Knives remains silent.

"I got back from bartering with the nomads. I got a whole jug full of venom! They were very grateful for the supplies I traded them."

"Perfect timing. We're on our way to the tent. May I have it?"

"Of course, Doc, it's all yours." Marvin reaches down and pulls the jug from his saddlebag. You recognize the bottle as one he has previously used for storing his homemade moonshine. "I know you will put it to good use."

You take the container of cloudy liquid and look at Marvin's sorrowful eyes.

"I promise, I will" is the only response you give, a silent understanding that you both share.

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[sordidmusings]

Just a life update and opening!

Brought up because of an ask wondering if I still do stuff here so I figured I'd put out some of whats goin on if anyone is interested! Also throwing it into the void of the internet feels less guilt inducing than forcing it on specific people especially after how overwhelmed folks tend to be cuz I'm bad at metering it out and not just being like 'light jokes about struggle that don't scratch the surface or say anything meaningful' and 'here is all the dark lore' 💀 It's also been a struggle because there really does sometimes feel like theres a whole ass language barrier within your own language when you're AuDHD.

I do still do headcanons and write and draw and yada yada there’s just been quite a bit happening and I’m doing poorly at keeping up with life maintenance let alone things I enjoy 🥴 with writing especially in my hobbies I find myself discouraged in what feels like poor quality of my writing and seeing that reflected back to me because I am Weak 💀 general overview of some of the bigger problems below the cut if you’re interested but I won’t bother y’all with the whole picture! Will be more a summary/overview/alluding to things over getting into gory details. Basically a lot will be covered but I won’t force anything below the broad strokes on y'all.

The end is an ask for people to please reach out if they are struggling so please take that seriously. I offer a space with me but please find wherever in this world you are at least somewhat comfortable and have someone be there with you while you process 🤍 I will have a header above that little piece just incase you'd like to skip to only reading that which is completely fine!

CW for mental health talks, allusions to family issues, references to rape and abuse, death by suicide, and suicidal ideation.

What's Up, Doc?

Between hospitalizations (old and new issues and unfortunate near misses 🤡), my couple jobs (the days my body ain’t tryin to give up and even some days it still is means back to the grindstone. Thank you capitalistic overlords 💀), money stresses (medical debt plus just like y'all know shit ain’t the best for most everyone rn), the spring struggle (nightmares + flashbacks get worse from seasonal + anniversaries of men not caring for consent amongst other things lmaoooo), the mental health slew (diagnosed with AuDHD and most of the big hitters besides a personality disorder), and a few other life happenings and old traumas I’m doing a terrible job at everything 🤡 most of it ain’t new so I know all the proper things to do to help for everything from years of therapy and managing the symptoms and all that but dotting my i’s and crossing my t’s hasn’t been offering any relief for a long while so I’m floundering and quite exhausted.

The health issues making everything difficult and painful ain’t helping but I’m also not being the best at taking care of some of them because Why Bother 💀 Many are issues I’ve had for years that ebb and flow in severity and I’m just tired of feeling them and having to manage them. I’m sure any of you with chronic issues understand the feeling well. Those with years and years of major depressive disorder probably also understand the frustration and exhaustion and guilt with knowing you should enjoy something, you WANT to enjoy it, but your body just can’t produce the reaction it should.

I tend to isolate because I’m managing it poorly enough that the topic tends to crop up with the closer few if they ask and that goes Badly cuz, even if they think they won’t, people get uncomfy with the topics which just makes me feel Worse from guilt and sometimes frustration from it being passed over for their comfort or lack of understanding. I am lucky enough to have more recently found one person who Gets It and a beloved soul from lovely old Jersey came back into my life so the bigger problem in that situation is me allowing myself to consistently receive support from them 🤡 One’s so sweet always telling me I can call any time and the other is of the same vein and my dumbass brain keeps being like “but that would bother them” or the usual “you deserve to get worse not get help” 🤡🤡🤡. Clown ass behavior.

Also some bad coping mechanisms make my typing and communication sloppy as hell and I’m quite ashamed of that so best hide that away while it’s going on 💀 due to insistence that it’s Fine I have forgone that instinct to what feels like very Poor Result 🥴 ah the eternal struggle between needing to be Seen to fight the sense of isolation and worthlessness but also being petrified of being perceived while imperfect. Not having any of the connections really be in person doesn’t help too much with feelings isolation because I don't really have anyone around me besides parents that have literally said "why are you making us deal with this" about the intentional near death miss 💀💀💀 my immediate world feels very much like it wants me gone in explicit and subtle ways but c'est la vie. Beggars can’t be choosers so at this point I’m likely just being ungrateful 🤡

One thing making it harder to keep trying is my folks’ years of insistence that I don’t understand my own experience and I’m just dramatic and make things up. It’s an echo of many painful experiences including a whole group intentionally playing games with my sense of reality to enable their friend’s abuse (they got unconsensual nudes from him out of it so that’s worth the price of treating someone like that right?). Such is life.

One of the new things I’m uncertain how to approach handling properly is the grief and such shifting back to the forefront from the first anniversary of my childhood brother figure being taken from us by his bipolar depression. I have known people taken by suicide before but not this close to home. My childhood wasn’t the happiest but he and his family were a bright place in it. His little sister was my best friend in the whole world through my childhood and their family treated me more like family than my own. He was the best mix of a good and bad influence in an older brother figure I could’ve wished for. He fought long and hard but exhaustion hits us all, sometimes even with proper help. What eternally pains me is knowing how helpless and scared he must have felt and even worse how absolutely alone he felt. That was his last feeling in this life. I can only hope that more than anything, whatever happens next is giving him relief, peace, and rest.

Talk on reaching out below!

On that note, if any of you experience suicidality too, my messages (or ask if you’re more comfy on anon) are always open. This is an issue that’s been in my life in many forms since I was 12, so I will not shy away from you or your thoughts. Even if shared with something uncomfortable or "ugly", I find the discomfort of sitting with someone’s pain negligible in comparison to being the one in pain so why not prioritize that person in their need? It’s also negligible under the importance of truly holding space to process those hurts and stresses instead of just simple little niceties.

I am not the best at being active but if I see any of these messages especially we will truly talk. I know how insanely isolating and disappointing it can feel when someone offers support to be nice and then shoves to the next topic or barely responds because it makes them uncomfortable. It is a bitter pill we must often swallow to forgive those who think they will help for making things worse because they have bit off more than they can chew. It is also a bitter feeling that that reaffirms to us that by our very nature, we are too much to handle and are too much to deal with for sharing our internal space and circumstance. But at the same time, all of us are simply human so who am I to malign someone for making mistakes or being imperfect? So long as someone truly wants to try, there is all the reason in the world to give them grace.

Qualifications kind of???

The one good thing that has come from a lot of the experiences that I’ve gone through is that it has forced perspective on me and forced me to learn skills in holding space, validating, and connecting to others in immense pain. No one is perfect in this skill (even therapists struggle - the number who have said they don’t know where to start untangling the traumas or who have cried at it and in turn needed comfort 💀 a strange experience I know my darling at least gets too lol) but I have found in both giving and receiving that honesty and openness is W A Y more important than being perfect.

This is something I’ve watched more people struggle with than not as life circumstances has not made it so that they must learn the skill at the same time that there are resources to learn it, so I may make more posts with advice for it than the bit I go through here. I’m not a licensed therapist so this isn’t going to be a clinical breakdown of how to be someone’s therapist but I would consider my experience as a confidant, consistent reading up on psychological and related sociological research, and experience going through various forms of therapy worthy of giving solid advice. Unfortunately, co-morbidities and resistant brain chemistry really make using the skills on myself Difficult 💀 but as brief examples of experience for validity speaking on this, I’ve been to a lot of group therapy where licensed therapists literally coach you on this, guided a safe space/group for SA survivors in college, coached friends who couldn’t afford therapy through suicidality or abusive situations, and coached survivors through feelings and decisions when deciding whether or not to charge or going through the process of charging their abuser. All of which is much easier to be effective to people you know irl but the support online can be nothing to snub your nose at either. None of this is to say I'm perfect or exceptional - neither is true - just that I’ve had circumstances and experiences that afford me a bit of extra knowledge in this.

In the vast majority of cases, someone who is struggling and coming to you for help wants you to be there - your thoughts, your feelings, your perspective. They don’t want someone sitting uncomfortably and saying the occasional “sorry” they want engagement because more than anything they don’t want to be alone. In a basic example, if you find yourself freezing when someone comes to you with something you don’t know how to handle, instead of saying nothing or only short cliches due to fear of making a mistake, be honest about that. “I’m not sure what to say right now to be honest because that’s so much to deal with. I can’t imagine having to live with that all the time. Is there anything in it frustrating you the most or that you’re having the most difficulty tackling?”. This is active listening and engagement. You are being honest with where you are at so they aren’t guessing what you’re thinking, you are showing that you see how overwhelming the situation is, especially for the person who has to live with it. If you can’t handle a conversation where these issues exist, how do you think it feels to live with them day in and day out, sometimes for years or the majority of a life?

Asking questions is SUPER important too. Trust the other person to only share what they are comfortable with and don’t assume all questions are bad. Asking questions is one of the truest and simplest ways to show you care because why would you want to know more if you don’t give a shit? Asking questions is also very helpful and one of the reasons talking to others about your issues is important - it gives the person struggling something to react to and give perspective. It helps them process the issue in ways they won’t be able to do by themselves. This may make the process sound slightly manufactured but I promise it’s not, especially as it becomes second nature to know what thing to use when. Communication is a skill so advice around it will inherently make it sound more clinical than the actual process is.

People are also not a monolith so while this type of being there works for the vast majority some people may not like it. That is also where communication comes in - check in with the person on if this is helping and what isn't helpful. Make sure to adjust when you make a mistake.

Conclusion

I’m happy to hold space for other issues as well. I’m no replacement for a therapist but I’ve been a helpful supplement to many people I knew struggling throughout the years so I’m at least okay at that! Since I’m doing pretty bad functionally right now the help won’t be as consistent as I wish but I will give whatever is in my power just like these things deserve. I hope to get better soon so that I can properly offer a stronger foundation of support outward again 🤍

[fuckyeahdindjarin]

Behind the Seams: Part IV

{ Behind the Seams: Part III | Part III: Edgestitch | Series Masterlist }

Welcome to the second instalment of Behind the Seams! For those new to the series, this is a behind-the-scenes deep dive that I post in between chapters for those who are interested in taking a peek at my writing process (mainly because I update so slowly lol). There are spoilers for Edgestitch below the cut, so if you're not caught up, I suggest you come back when you are!

Current status: 3.6k unfinished rough draft

Initial thoughts: The last chapter laid down a few anchor points that I hope will carry the story forward for the next 2 to 3 parts. I still don't have an overarching plan for this series, and there is no 'plot' to speak of other than the unfolding of the relationship between Joel and Pin, and I'm good with that!

After the excitement of the last chapter, it took me a while to get back into the Seams mindset. While we resolved a tiny bit of the sexual tension last chapter, there is still a lot to unpack between these two. The camera is zooming in for this chapter, where we throw Joel and Pin together again, but in a less accident-prone manner as they take things into their own hands rather than leave it up to chance.

The challenge: One word - intimacy. On both their parts.

As Pin alluded to in the last chapter, it's been a long time anyone has even kissed her, let alone anything else. There will be some action in this chapter - I haven't decided to which degree yet - but I want to do it in a way that is sensitive to her history (even though I will leave it vague).

As for Joel, it's also one word - Tess. My Google doc right now cuts off at the beginning of the intimate scene, because I haven't figured out what he's thinking just yet in relation to her. As much as he's falling for Pin, I imagine he might be confused, guilty, probably in denial about his grief. I don't want Seams to get too heavy, and I might not be exploring these themes in Part IV just yet, but these are themes that I'm looking to explore in some way in the series.

Ellie: I was so bowled over by everyone's reaction to Ellie in the last chapter! That really gave me such a confidence boost, and I'm so happy to say that our favourite gremlin is making more of a cameo this chapter. She's great comedic relief while bringing out the dad side of Joel that I just love dipping into.

Joel: Many of you have brought up you're enjoying Joel's thoughts about Jackson and Sarah, and you don't understand how much it means to me. Getting into Joel's head has been one of my favourite things about this series, especially with him trying to figure out how to exist in this place after 20 years of just surviving. Ellie allowing himself to get back in touch with his dad side is another angle that I love delving into. The instincts have never left him, and I'm having so much fun bringing out that side of him.

Something fun: As I teased right here, the white undervest will make a return, and yes, Joel will be sweaty AF in it - I wonder why 🤷🏻‍♀️

Thank you for reading if you've made it this far! As with the last chapter, it helps so much putting my thought process into words, to make space in my head so that I can push forward with the writing. Thank you for indulging me, I hope you enjoyed this one ❤️ I'm always open to chatting, so don't be shy!

[spider-xan]

I don't have the greatest memory, so while I still have the thoughts in my head, I want to write down some of the new thoughts and observations I had about Spider-Man 2 (2004) after tonight's special screening so that I can return later to expand on them:

The Peter and MJ romantic conflict is way better written than it's given credit for and is honestly just really good in terms of being complex and balanced - there's no good guy and bad guy here, both of them have very understandable feelings about the situation, and both of them are mature enough to admit what they did wrong; it's frustrating how much fan reaction, esp in the wake of the more 'perfect' romance in TASM, has twisted it into MJ being an unreasonable bitch while Peter never did anything wrong - as an adult, it really hit me how much sadness there was behind MJ's 'nothing to me but an empty seat' that even I myself have been guilty of reading as angrier than it actually is.

Doc Ock is actually treated as a serious character with interiority and a fully rounded person, as well as a serious threat as a villain who is actually intimidating and a real challenge for Peter to defeat - starkly contrasted with how in NWH, he's written as a jokey comic relief character who yells a lot while being completely ineffective and then gets magically 'cured' instead of going through a character arc where he has to self reflect and make active choices about his behaviour.

Raimi technically does the thing the MCU does a lot where a serious moment will be followed by a joke right afterwards, but somehow, Raimi makes it work where the humour does not undercut or negate the drama and emotional sincerity? I still need to think about this one, but I think it has to do with him holding the serious moments for longer and how the humour feels organic and earnest rather than meta and cynical.

[landofadonises]

NG-AD0372 Transformations - Eyewitness Testimonies, I

The biotechnician placed a notepad and a pen down on the cold, steel table, taking a seat across from a hesitant soldier fidgeting in his seat. As he adjusts himself and looks toward the soldier expectantly, the soldier takes a swig of water from the glass on the table and speaks up, stuttering. "Doc, you promise that doin' this for ya will get me my dose sooner? Y'know it's crazy weird to talk about this stuff... it gets me thinkin' all... I don't know..."

The scientist smiles knowingly, chuckling momentarily at the soldier's hesitation. "Don't worry, boy. Get to explaining. You're one of the first that were there to see your work partner change before your eyes. We want all the nuance, and believe us when we say we'll compensate you for your... efforts."

The soldier has a smile flutter across his face, but it fades as he gets to thinking about the topic at hand, squirming in his seat for a bit as he adjusts the crotch of his pants. He takes another gulp of water to soothe his parched throat.

"Well... everything was going normal, just cleaning the gym equipment with Mateo like normal, and I guess he picked up a pretty heavy weight to rack it, and I heard him... breathe a certain way when he felt it. He racked it but kept flexing his arms, and it was so weird... his sleeves were tightening like crazy, and he just kept getting, like, overstimulated? Like, his head kept knocking back and his eyelids were flutterin' and shit, mouth open, like he was tryna figure out what to do..." The soldier shifts in his seat more, the tightness in his crotch distracting his recounting of events.

"Then, all of a sudden, I saw some crazy veins poppin' out on the back of his hands, and he just grabbed his shirt and ripped off the sleeves in one clean rip, strong as hell... and the fuckin' pythons on him all of a sudden, so damn sweaty, hairy... and he just looked so unsatisfied, pouty, moany... I just had to help him..."

"Doc, you don't get it... the way that that sweat was shinin' on his skin... the musky smell, and how he just looked so damn pitiful... I went up and smacked a kiss on his lips and he moaned into my mouth... and... and..." The soldier trails off as he bites his lip as he recalls the events, in inner turmoil about how he reacted in the moment and how much he enjoyed it, never being able to properly shift his junk in his pants to bring some relief, so constricting...

"Well, soldier, that about does it. This was incredibly helpful to hear about how the soldiers react when the effects kick in." The scientist rises to his full stature and stares at the soldier across from him as the soldier continues to squirm, losing awareness of the situation around him. "You'll have a firsthand account of your experiences once you return to lucidity soon enough."

The soldier looks up at the scientist. "W--whuh? What? S-so soon...? I thought... evals..." His sentence is interrupted by a moan escaping his lips as his shaft competes for space in his pants, zipper threatening to burst open. He looks down as his double-sized turgid cock snaps open the zipper and latch, revealing a heavy set and swelling balls, the sudden relief and rush of air causing him to release an even louder moan.

The scientist chuckles as he grabs the soldier's jaw and directs his view to the near-empty glass of water on the table, the scientist tapping the rim and flicking it, causing the bit of remaining water to pool onto the table. The soldier, now understanding, falls into a euphoric state, ignoring everything around him, as the scientist walks out of the room and informs the attendant to lock the room as the situation plays out.

[j0kers-light]

Hi Chaos! MASSIVE FAN of your work!

A little headcannon/short story idea (If you find it suitable and to your liking, of course <3)

We keep on hearing of how y/n interacts on social media- but what about the Joker? Does he have a secret account for fun, does he stay away from it or is there a third alternative?

Bonus! (In honor of Spotify wrapped coming out): What type of music genre do you think the Joker enjoys listening to?

Hey hi anon!!! 🖤✨

wow, haven't had one of these in a hot minute. I miss answering anon... 🥺🥺ANYHOO!!!

THANK YOU FOR BEING A MASSIVE FAN! I LOVES YOU MUCH! *opens up my docs so I can work hard to make content for mi sweet loving anon*

Let's get into it! Straight to the point because I can go into heavy detail AND I WILL. I WILL GO INTO HEAVY DETAIL! 👏🏾👏🏾👏🏾👏🏾👏🏾

First and foremost, Joker isn't addicted to modern technology like we are as a culture, this man is soooo old fashion it makes your eyes roll.

He doesn't see the appeal of TikTok or apps like Snapchat even if the filters make him all sparkly and look cool.

Joker will take silly selfies with you if you beg him to and he lets you save some on your phone however; if he sees them anywhere else-- say goodbye to fun selfies forever!

He can't have any evidence of his real face floating around. Phones can be hacked! So you suggest Polaroids and Joker breathes a sigh of relief.

Get it? Polaroid? Just like in the infamous photo Joker snapped in the chapter Push and Pull! 🤭

If Joker uses any social media platforms, it’s in an anonymous fashion.

Joker is on Twitch because he's secretly a gamer but he doesn't use a cam. He loves stalking your personal blog and he's always going down a rabbit hole on YouTube.

You won't find him anywhere that requires a legal profile. Anything that can be traced back to him and most importantly you is a no go. He won't risk you being used as blackmail or worse.

He'll check your Patreon from time to time if you're a digital artist or something of the sort but other than that, his phone is used primary for communication with you.

Joker would rather leave behind sticky notes or his signature playing cards than send a text. He scatters the apartment with little love notes; it’s so corny but sweet.

Now on the other hand if you need assistance whether it be for a skit, making a reel, etc., best believe Joker will hold your camera for you, he'll help you edit videos, he’ll even direct the content so its the best on the internet!

He'll be so supportive if you're a content creator. Scratch that. Joker is supportive in everything you do!

Granted he doesn't understands a lick of social media or its lingo, he will go above and beyond to make sure your content is phenomenal.

Need a nice shot of the Gotham Bridge or a background of somewhere cool? Its mysteriously empty for your use...

Need good lighting for a quick reel? Joker is setting off explosions in the background. Fire is really good natural lighting... far better than a ring light. 👀

Whatever you need, say the word and its yours. Joker will get anything for his Light.

THAT BEING SAID! BONUS ASK ITS A TWO FOR ONE DEAL!

I think I answered a similar ask like this but I'll do it again because I love to answer questions!! (I have a confession to make. I do not have a Spotify... so I can't do the viral wrapped thingy but I'm aware of it!)

I fully support Joker being older than you (teehee we stan mature older men around these parts!!)

That being said.. Joker grew up with good music like back when music meant something—not just mindless noise to add onto a video for likes.

He has an ear for jazz, crooner, classic R&B, and the occasional rock, heavy metal stuff if it has relatable lyrics (it channels his inner psycho don't judge him)

He cannot stand pop music or anything that's featured on the top 100's or played on repeat in a department store. He will stab someone over it. No questions asked.

If his Bunny is singing/dancing along to it he might make an exception because your voice is so soothing to him, it puts a different spin to the song. There's still a fifty fifty change he's tuning it out.

But he strongly believes all boy bands should be executed, no exceptions. That's where he draws the line.

Totally forgot I made a oneshot about Joker and music too!

Slippery When Wet lol...

Hope that answered your ask beloved! 🖤✨