#anyway this post and the tags are long enough and i could rant about pricing and fair wages forever so im done now lol

[healingheartdogs]

I know it's been a few years since I've run my own dog training business instead of working for someone else for exploitation wages and that previously I was working in the rural south where prices are a bit different in general, but out of curiosity I decided to look at some dog training services in my area in upstate NY today and got hit with sticker shock ngl.

Most places don't post their prices so I could only compare a few (which... I sort of get since they want to avoid competition doing what I'm doing right now lol but as someone who has run a dog training business and had business marketing included in my education it's something I see as an... *interesting* choice, because most clients want to know price up front without having to contact you and wait for a response because they probably already have a budget in mind and just want to be able to quickly see if you fit into it or not, which means not having prices posted will make some potential clients immediately look elsewhere and if you don't even have some sort of price range for services posted somewhere then most of your calls and emails will just be people asking for pricing and a majority of those calls and emails will not lead to services purchased so it ends up wasting a lot of unpaid time on office work BUT THATS AN UNRELATED TOPIC, I DIGRESS) but WOWZA the ones that did have prices posted really made me realize I do NOT live in a low cost of living place anymore.

One of the popular places here that I looked at charges $150+ for ONE training session with one of their APPRENTICE trainers. It's double that price to train with one of their more experienced dog trainers for just one session.

I looked back at some of the trainers I was competing with back in FL and NC to compare as well as the dog training school I went to just to check and see if prices were getting that high in other rural areas, and nope. Most places $300 would still get you at least three - maybe up to six - private lessons spread out over three (or six, or whatever) weeks, which is the pricing range I'm used to seeing dog trainers in the rural south suffer with because of places like Petsmart setting the pricing bar so low.

I'm pretty sure I have more formal dog training education and certification than most of the employees at this place too since even their main "behaviorist" (not a protected title in the USA so anyone can call themselves that) has no certifications listed at all that I can find, so... I guess now that I live here if I ever start training again I'm going to have to rethink my pricing lol even if I don't charge those kinds of prices I clearly still need to bump them up in this area from what I used to charge in order to be competitive with these other training businesses.

[ofcloudsandstars]

Amber and orchard for the fall asks!

amber - share an unpopular opinion that you may have.

Hahaha this is like cracking open pandora’s box. I feel like I have too many. 

I think my primary one though is I absolutely despise capitalism’s affect on witchcraft. I DO NOT think it’s made it more accessible for people, I feel like the only very minor positive thing is that you can now tell people you are a witch and into tarot cards and they won’t find you as weird anymore. Otherwise people don’t realize how capitalism is a force that actually strips culture of it’s meaning in order to sell it for profit and it’s affects on this practice has left a lot of damage not just to some aspects that are sacred but towards the earth since it’s a practice that works really closely with nature. 

(added a read more to spare you poor scrolling souls from my rant lol)

Anyway what crapitalism does is it takes a culture and turns it into an easily consumable concept- almost like a brand, so that as long as you slap something ‘witchy’ seeming together then it qualifies as that brand. It boils everything down to an aesthetic. And no one has to actually believe in it anymore, or practice it or make any effort towards learning it or incorporating it into their lives. As long as they buy into the brand or embody the aesthetic then they count. Sometimes you can try to express that some traditions and materials and such do have meaning (I mean of course they do no one just sat around and made this shit up) people kind of have this nihilistic view that’s fed from this weird modern capitalist society that like: nothing truly has meaning anymore. But it’s like they are feeding this consumerist culture by repeating this mindset and gaslighting others when they appropriate magical practices or other cultures that are still very much alive and still tended to (often by indigenous people still being prosecuted) that are focused on working with the earth. 

Then you see this ripple effect on places like instagram or the big mainstream like magazines and shit and do not get me wrong cause there are a lot of cool and creative people that practice this that are on there but there is so much cashing into this field now and oversaturation that comes with seedy and shady background stories that show creators being completely disingenuous because they really just want to make money. And then going back to my point that this practice works closely with nature, capitalism exploited the fact that we like working with certain herbs, woods, crystals etc and is overharvesting and mining and tainting the very tools that we want to work with, with greed, pollution, child slavery etc. And it’s irritating cause you can make your own tools and don’t have to import anything and you can tell everyone how bad some industries are but they don’t listen cause they are buying into capitalism’s lie that they can sell you anything at a price, even if it’s sacred. Then if you try to defend your point they tell you that this is the only way it can be accessible to everyone, but it’s NOT accessible to everyone, it strips it away from people that could be working with these tools for generations and protecting the climates that these guides and resources for the tools grow in. It also disempowers people in their craft to begin with because witchcraft is about finding that connection to your own power and magic and the bridge with the universe’s power and magic and when you venture down into this practice you will find tools and guides local to you and find ways to make your own magical tools but capitalism disempowers us by telling us that we are not legit until we can put a price tag on it. So people don’t believe in their ability to find the sacred in themselves or nature, they just keep consuming whatever herb bundle or tool capitalism spits at them because it’s the only way to feel legit in this culture. 

And then since it’s seen more of a title or aesthetic and less of a way of life or set of ethics or practice, you have people interested in this spiritual or witchy community that don’t do any work or want to work on themselves that bring their shadow baggage into it. So you get racism seeping into it, homophobia, I also am so fucking confused how TRANSPHOBIA has made its way into here like transfolx are magical by just existing they are walking manifestations and works of alchemy like wtf; and like if you guys were friends with any queer people and hung out with them, they get the idea of magic, ritual and manifestation so well cause so much of their daily life already embodies some of that. But that’s a whole other topic. I vibed well with my queer friends on this and they were the only ones I could talk to about it before witchcraft became mainstream. 

 Then in general it’s seen as like radical if you tell people that are supposedly practicing witches that our energies should be focusing on restoring balance and we should put our energy towards healing nature or towards human rights (since humans are apart of nature) you will literally have witches being like: don’t tell me what to do!!! Like!! Gurl wtf lmaoo I don’t know how people claim to be empaths or into this but they don’t see that maybe if there was a so called “Great Awakening” to “Empower Ourselves” that’s probably what the fucking point was? Not to say that you need to spend every waking moment protesting (another contribution of capitalism- showing some kind of documented proof on social media that you stand for something instead of little daily actions embedded into your everyday life) but you can find ways to change your daily patterns to make space for the societal change that’s coming to bring in a more compassionate world and better community. But since we are so indoctrinated in this consumerist culture, so many people don’t know how to incorporate their values into their everyday lives anymore. It’s all about quantity and showing off on social media. And that negatively impacts witchcraft cause witchcraft is a daily practice you do little things for everyday that just gets embedded into your everyday life, but people get confused and think to be legit it’s something you gotta buy into or show off as proof with stylistic rituals and of course for many people that’s exhausting or financially inaccessible. 

And for the sake of clarity cause the internet hates using critical thinking sometimes, of COURSE you can have a fun and flashy craft I’m not saying you can’t, but there is a massive imbalance here I am pointing out with how people are developing insecurities because they cannot attain this aesthetic overnight without dropping a shit ton of money. Yes witchcraft is very aesthetic-heavy but that’s because it’s a really creative practice that people pour their creativity and energy into and capitalism saw a way to put a price tag on it and now it’s confusing everyone else that’s mistaking this as something else to consume in exchange for money. 

And then I hate that I feel often I cannot talk about this cause instead of people using their critical thinking braincells and realizing how bad capitalism is, they somehow turn this conversation into thinking that I just don’t like when a culture becomes mainstream cause not everyone should enjoy a culture or whatever and it’s like fucking hell of course I would LOVE more witches and to have more people into celebrating nature or finding their own magic and connecting to the universe and whatever, but capitalism isn’t helping at all. It’s separating us from it’s connection and the meaning behind it’s practice. (Also one day I dream of living in a witchy town or community so yeah, the more the merrier, but right now with capitalism, this method is not the way to get into this practice lol). 

You really see the negative effects of capitalism marketing witchcraft because people now treat it as like this commodity they can jump into without finding a way to genuinely connect with it cause it’s all just a gimmick until the next zeitgeist. This either manifests in two ways where they think they can just buy a book or read some posts and not do any work on themselves or thinking on stuff like cultural appropriation so when they start experimenting they might bring harm to themselves by evoking spirits that do not want to work with them, or taking in some sacred herb or substance that can fuck them up leaving deep psychological damage or death- or they can harm others in a myriad of ways. 

Then the other way it manifests are people feeling like witchcraft is suddenly inaccessible because you need money to practice it because capitalism put that veil over their eyes. It’s now another thing gatekept by money. So they try to reclaim it by being like: it’s just a title you can slap on yourself; but they give capitalism more power because that’s what capitalism was doing all along by stripping the meaning. Stripping it down to a concept that only matters as a label that evokes a brand or idea but not an actual practice. In a way it’s very counter culture to not buy into the aesthetic or put in effort anymore. Even if you want to put in effort you feel like you are not good enough cause you will never fit capitalism’s standards of quantity and money to spend to showcase it on the internet to feel legit. So people develop this no-effort approach to it. And ONCE AGAIN for clarity for the internet’s lack of critical thinking and jumping to conclusions I am NOT referring to anything like spoony witchcraft or energy based witchcraft (I am an energy witch primarily thank you very much) I am talking about people calling themselves witches but then when you want to sit down and chat about the craft they have a blank stare cause they were never serious and sometimes judge you for how much you cared about it cause they don’t really believe in it anyway. Not even cause it’s woowoo it’s cause capitalism doesn’t make you believe any anything anymore. The only thing it wants you to believe in is money and what you can consume with it.  

And then when people online try to talk about this and point out it’s a practice these guys get angry with you like you are gatekeeping but it’s like BITCH it’s a FREE FUCKING PRACTICE like GO TALK TO A TREE go COLLECT A ROCK YOU FOUND IN THE CLEAR STREAM OF A BABBLING BROOK and maybe you’d CALM THE FUCK DOWN. Capitalism making it seem like you gotta buy all this shit to be seen as legit is not what this practice is about and it makes me upset how there is like this massive group of people that want to access this culture but are so lethargic about actually doing anything because they are disenchanted and it’s really because they are mentally bogged down by capitalism’s grip on it making them feel like they aren’t shit cause they can’t afford all that bullshit that ain’t gonna help them anyway so they just call themselves witches to get them 2 drops of serotonin and feel included but never really go anywhere beyond that cause capitalism strips the fucking joy and meaning out of everything. The only reason why this bothers me is cause I could be staying in my lane drinking my herbs and shit and chilling but then people either judge me for the effort I put into my practice’s aesthetics thinking I am shallow and buying into this or they think I am being reckless and dangerous believing in something not real by practicing a craft that tbh has a lot of dangerous aspects to it so it’s not rated E for everyone. Like you can fit it to what you want it to be since it’s your journey but it’s always been a bit edgy in some ways and it’s annoying when you get people judging you now for your lifestyle or they wonder why you are so invested cause they don’t get it. 

Anyway that was a rant but you asked for it lol. 

orchard - share one thing that you’d like to happen this autumn.

Get some more weed 

Thanks for the asks lol. Kept the last one short haha but it’s true I have been trying to manifest for a while after my quarantine rations went out. Here are the autumnal asks if anyone else wants to ask or reblog them!

[cockbiteproductions]

multiples of 8, except in the misc section. all even numbers for the misc section

200: My crush’s name is: well well well this question again. you’re not getting anything out of me!!! they fucking use this website!!!

192: I am allergic to: nothing. but i found out like yesterday not everyone gets dermatographia and im kinda annoyed. what do you mean your skin doesnt get red and puffy the moment you touch it......

184: Xbox or ps3: xbox solely because of ah

176: Last YouTube video watched: my watch history says this, which is a scene from a show called billions. this scene in particular is about my favorite character asking about their introduction scene with their former mentor figure that they quickly outranked and asking why they were picked for the internship that lead them down this [entire shitpath].

168: Luck: [long sigh]. [puts on clown makeup].

[obi wan voice] im my experience there’s no such thing as luck. 

[rian voice] luck? there’s probability plausibility and actuality. luck is superstition. luck is lazy math. [winston voice] that’s what i always say.

160: Soul mates: again souls arent real..... nor do i believe that people are “meant for each other” on any sort of cosmic/larger level. you are more compatible with people based on your upbringing and your interests and your values and those are adaptable over time though some people are so different that they will never get along and other people match/complement each other incredibly well.

152: Phone or Online: lmaoooo this questionnaire once again showing its age. throwback to when these things weren’t synonymous. online for sure. what am i gonna do with a phone? talk to someone with my fucking voice? i think not.

144: Oranges or Apples: to eat by themselves? probably apples since they are easier and less of a mess. and apples are more consistently better than oranges. oranges, it’s easy to get a batch that just sucks. juiced? probably orange. i love me some fuckin orange juice. but i like apple cider more than orange juice.

136: Hillary or Obama: lmaoooo again.. the age of this. 2008 or 2012. going to guess 2008. obama but not like. enthusiastically. while he was certainly better than [what we got going on now] he still bombed the hell outta some countries......

128: Manicure or Pedicure: ive never had either but i would probably be more comfortable with a manicure. people touching my feet would make me ticklish.

120: Gay Marriage: the only type that should be allowed. sorry straights youre no longer allowed to get married. /s obviously.

112: Facebook: oh BOY are you fucking ready. are you???? im starting the readmore NOW because this is going to be something. i doubt anyone except robots maybe will actually read my deranged pro-privacy anti-facebook/social media/surveillance rant but im angry every time i think about it and if i were a more important person than a rando on the internet with a keyboard im sure facebook would hire someone to kill me one day.

FUCK FACEBOOK. FUCK THAT SHITTY ASS WEBSITE THAT AT EVERY TURN HAS BEEN REVEALED TO HAVE HORRIFYING PRACTICES OF DATA COLLECTION.

but before that, they need to pay some goddamn fucking taxes. they are profiting off the data of billions of people and getting away with paying SO LITTLE back. 

you ever hear about deepface? no this is not the beginning of a prequel meme. deepface is facebook’s facial recognition technology and facial recognition is fucking terrifying. that shit is as good as humans at facial recognition at this point. does that not scare you? that a bunch of computers can figure out if this photo contains you or not? it’s one thing if humans recognize each other, but another thing when computers who can process data almost infinitely faster than humans can are able to do it. the scale and speed at which these fucking nightmares operates is hard for us to imagine and so we are all not scared enough of what they can do. this kind of technology is so deeply privacy violating it’s hard for me to stress it enough. every image of you ever uploaded on the internet could possibly be put through facial recognition tech. and with the fact that there are cameras literally everywhere at all times now at this point it’s so fucking possible that if desired, someone could find out where you are at all times. and that gets SO scary when used by governments. are you comfortable with your government knowing where YOU are at all times? yes? what about if tomorrow your government is overthrown by a group of radicals you completely disagree with? you still comfortable with that? facial recognition is kind of a fucking pandoras box that we are opening and now that we have the technology available to us, unless we actively take steps back from it, it WILL eventually/already is being used in malicious, intensely privacy invasive ways.

and everything in that above bullet point goes for ALL DATA COLLECTED ON YOU, EVER. everything you’ve ever said on facebook is probably put through some multi layered neural network fucking robot who is learning how to understand what humans say on your input and also cataloging things about you as a person. it is doing SO MUCH more than reading the exact text of what you are saying and then picking up on keywords. neural networks are an attempt to copy how humans think by making an artificial version of a brain basically. in simple terms it’s a map of points and connections and you feed it data for a while and tell it what the desired outcome should be. it will adjust those connections and the weight of those points based on your data and expected outcome. that change in connections and weights is how it learns. then after a while it has fed on enough data that it will begin to expect what your desired outcome is. now imagine millions and millions of connections and points. it’s fucking huge. you ever hear about how we don’t know how machine learning/deep learning/neural networks works? this is that. it’s because they are so large and they have changed their weights and points so much that we no longer understand how it makes its decisions. ml is on a deeper level starting to understand what you mean when you say words. like a human. and can pick up nuances humans cannot because of its perfect memory. do you understand how scary this is? do you? i really do not know how to express this better how absolutely buckshit wild and terrifying the idea that everything i say online can be scraped and put through a robot and a profile on me and who i am and my ideals can be gathered almost instantly. how hard would it be to write a scraper that goes to my blog and grabs the text of every post in my talk tag? and then there’s free and open source nlp software (or you can pay for it) and you can feed in everything ive said on this blog ever. you can go to my facebook. you can go to my twitter. you can find my profiles on every online platform ive ever used and take everything ive ever said and determine what kind of person i am based on that. and then you can then make further distinctions based on that data. (sidenote: facebook wouldnt have to scrape the data on my profile, it’s all in their databases already. they have everything ive ever posted on public or private, on my old profile i’ve deactivated, every photo ive posted or been tagged in, everything ive ever uploaded to their servers or have been associated with.) and someone or robot can make decisions about me based on that data. it could just be am i likely to buy [this product] or it could be something much more like am i a threat? am i dangerous to you, the person using this data about me? what are my politics? what are my views on [this topic]? are they too extreme? should i be denied [real life thing] based on what this machine has determined about me from my data online? not to sound fucking crazy, but you ever watch that episode of black mirror? nosedive? and its system where you can rate interactions with people? how this one girl was trying to increase her ranking so she would qualify for a cheaper price on housing? how we’re already starting to see things like this in real life with china’s social credit system?

call me a fucking wack job but i think it’s so deeply creepy that we have digitized so many aspects of our lives and leave machines we no longer understand how they make their decisions to analyze every bit of data about ourselves.

by the fucking way facebook tracks data on people WHO DO NOT USE FACEBOOK. FACEBOOK TRACKS DATA ON PEOPLE. WHO. DO. NOT. USE. FACEBOOK. are you scared? i am.

i’ve been thinking about this tweet from @/malwaretech on twitter from a few days ago. text: On a serious note, social media tracking is more extensive than you may think. For example: those Facebook 'like' buttons you see on every website? They call home. If you're logged into your FB account, it records that you visited that web page, even if you don't click 'like'. doesn’t that sound a lil fucked up to anyone else? that facebook knows that i visited that webpage even though i did not tell it? that it will use that data to build a better profile on what my interests are and that it will use that data to better sell ads to me? i’ll be honest i am unsure of if facebook sells that information to other vendors. i think that might be not allowed but i wouldn’t be surprised if that data somehow got into the hands of people who arent facebook.

the fact that for the longest time you could NOT get your data deleted from facebook? that even if you deactivated your account facebook would still keep all of that in their shit ass servers forever? as far as i know, that’s changed now, but i would not at all be surprised if the next day it was revealed that facebook was Actually Keeping all that info anyways

the fact that by default facebook’s privacy settings are set to allow anyone to see most info about you? just this whole opt out culture is so fucking wack. it should be opt in. your privacy settings should default on the MOST PRIVATE and it should be up to you to ACTIVELY SEARCH OUT how to change them to public. it is ON FACEBOOK to actively cultivate privacy but of fucking course they don’t.

lmao cambridge analytica politics russia brexit trump. i don’t have the energy to even open this fucking can of worms but i will say that again, another layer of deeply fucked up that political campaigns can use that data to try to coerce or influence elections.

do you remember when in 2019. yes twenty. fucking. nineteen. 2019. two thousand and nineteen. 2019. i dont know how more to stress how recent but late this is. 2019. facebook admitted that it and instagram were still. STILL. STILL. S T I L L. storing passwords as plaintext? meaning your password that is “password123ilovedogs” is stored AS “password123ilovedogs” in their database. it is STANDARD AND EXPECTED PRACTICE that websites store SECURE hashes of passwords (not like fucking. md5 or something) meaning you do a bunch of fucking “irreversible” math on the password and store that instead of the actual password itself. so the db would be storing “298!79v@w8W#R;3,f9jf” instead of your actual password. anyways face. fucking. book. was storing passwords as plain text. which means if they ever have a data breach on their passwords db then all that data inside will just be your actual goddamn password. your actual goddamn password. what the fuck? what the fuck? and we still use this website? we? me? i use this website daily? i use this website on a daily fucking basis and allow it to continue to collect information on me? im so goddamn angry.

the fact that now in this day and age you are considered weird for not having any social media? super fucked up. the fact that employers will check your social media and if you don’t have one that is somehow a red flag? weird as hell. why must we participate in the world’s largest data collection scandal ever just to be a member of society? i cannot choose to opt out. facebook collects data on me even if i do not have an account. society expects me to have some form of social media and if i do not then that i am the weird one for it. if you choose to live a life of trying not to be tracked it is almost impossible. can you live your life in modern society without an email address? without a smartphone or laptop? there is an expectation that every person is available to communicate with digitally and if you find the practice of data collection abhorrent and don’t want to use websites that do so, then you’re the weird one who has a LOT of society’s services unavailable to you.

im not going to even touch on the psychological effects that facebook and social media have on people other than to ONCE AGAIN, say they are very real and deeply fucked up.

by the way check out haveibeenpwned. enter your email and it’ll check against databases to see if your email has been on recent dumps. i have been. lately there have been a few older accounts of mine that have been breached and it’s terrifying.

fuck jesse eisenberg man he fucked over spiderman crazy

fuck faang. fuck big tech. fuck data collection. btw edward snowden is a hero. fuck all of this.

104: The future: man we’re in for it. i am not optimistic about it at all. too much tech progression / not enough foresight / expansion/globalization of the world / global warming / political and economic issues are all coming to a head to make the world a fucking disaster.

96: Changed a diaper: never done it! i am not around children often.

88: Something I will really miss when I leave home is: having a vague idea of where things are locally. im very bad with directions.

86: The thing that I’m looking forward to the most: answered already.

84: People call me: yeesa, apparently. i have a fair amount of nicknames but i just call myself teresa.

82: I have gotten a speeding ticket: sure haven’t though i deserve one

80: The first person i talked to today was: soph​ because she wakes up at a normal goddamn time so i’ll sometimes have a text from her from a few hrs ago

76: Right now I am talking to: milo and a discord server im in for a group of friends i made when i was applying to college. though i havent responded in quite a while since i went on my angry facebook rant.

74: I have/will get a job: well i HAD a job for the beginning of the summer when i was a TA but i do not any more as that was first summer semester only. hopefully in the fall i’ll have a job as a TA again but who knows. and then after that when i graduate i hope hope hope hope hope i will have a job lined up.

72: Today: woke up. made a plum smoothie. played minecraft. took a nap. here i am. it’s all very riveting.

70: Next Weekend: it’ll happen for sure. odds are i will be waking up and eating food and coming on the internet and chatting with friends and doing a bit of writing and trying to learn a bit more html.

68: The worst sound in the world: answered already.

66: People that make you happy: will roland lmao. 

64: My friends are: well it’s basically the same people i tagged in my last post on people who make me happy.

62: My School: you tryin to doxx me? it’s alright. not the best for my major. and also stupidly trying to reopen for the fall because theyre greedy and idiots. it was like my 5th choice school but it is what it is.....

60: I lose all respect for people who: already answered

58: Your hair color is: black as fuck. im east asian.

56: Favorite web site: controversial but archive of our own dot org i guess. i believe in their mission and like how they have advocated for fans and have created a fan-owned space on the internet. they’re not perfect but i overall support them.

54: The worst pain I was ever in was: answered already

52: My room is: a time capsule of what i liked in late middle school/early high school.

50: Where would you like to be: im fine where i am. maybe visiting friends though. i would like to Hang With Them and Do Fun Activities.

48: Ever been in love: who’s to say....... what is love? (baby don’t hurt me). but for real the concept of love is weird to me, especially romantic love. i don’t know. i’ve certainly obsessed over people. i’ve noticed i kind of “pick people” to have crushes on. i can’t really say why. but then it creates a feedback loop of i pay more attention to them -> i think more about them -> i like them more. so i’ve made conscious decisions that have lead to me obsessing over people.

46: More guy friends or girl friends: girl but that’s just because people in fandom spaces tend to be women and most of my friends ive made through fandom.

44: One person that you wish you could see right now: kaity is coming to my town but we cant see each other because of a pandemic so im kinda fucking miffed about that. i didn’t get to see maria before she left my state so i’m also miffed about that.

42: Have you made a list of things to do before you die: lmaooooo no. i would just like to be satisfied with my life. would like to see friends. do fun things with them. 

40: Last person I got mad at: idk im not generally a mad person. mark zuckerberg probably.

38: I wish I was a professional: as in i suddenly have all the skills and talent needed to be a professional? i think a director &|| writer tbh. i would love to have the Creative Vision necessary to come up with dope ideas AND translate what i have in mind into real life. i would love the ability to be able to tell compelling stories that mean a lot to people.

32: Athlete: lmao if it was 2008 or 2012 i would ahve said ryan lochte but nevermind. idk. maybe katie ledecky.

24: Movie: am not much one for movies...... star trek 2009.

16: Book: i don’t know how to read.

8: Yankee candle scent: idk about yankee candle specifically but i love the smell of apple. 

[eilonwiiy]

Bookends ; a Witchlands AU

Summary: Iseult det Midenzi never expected to go to a top university, so when her mother falls ill and she is forced to drop out to make ends meet, life has never seemed so unfair. But when she starts working at the local library and is unexpectedly assigned in the Children's Room, a certain monosyllabic man and his thrice-damned demon child start showing up and Iseult begins to wonder if the threads of fate have a plan for her after all.

Ships: Iseult/Aeduan, Safi/Merik, minor Ryber/Kullen (and more... stay tuned!)

Tags: modern AU, college setting, family, friendship, humor, fluff, slow-burn, romance, eventual smut

Read on AO3: here

Tag list: (please let me know if you’d like to be added!) @lseultdetmidenzi

*   .   *   .   *   .   *   .

chapter 1

811.34 Courrier

811.34 Gaines

811.34 Vasiliev

Iseult reached for another book from the cart.  She ran a pale finger along its spine, noting the title vaguely, before settling on the call number at its base.

813.01 Balthazar

Her gaze lifted to the long line of books shelved in front of her, scanning for one in particular, before bending low and craning her neck to read the next row underneath. A twinge of discomfort radiated through her neck protesting the awkward angle, but she stayed hunched over, reading the call numbers until she found what she was looking for.

813 Allein

813.2 Husmond

Ah. She slipped Balthazar’s book neatly between the two titles, then drew herself up with a tired slowness. Stifling a sigh, she rolled her shoulders and let her head loll back before rotating it from side to side. Standing upright was decidedly more comfortable than the 90 degree angle she’d bent in and out of all throughout the day, but no amount of stretching seemed to ease the ache in her neck and back. An unavoidable caveat of working at the Venaza City Library.

Five months ago when she’d taken the job, Iseult det Midenzi had not considered the physical toll books could have on a person. Sure, she had read Eridysi’s Lament enough times to know books could break your heart worse than any one person could. But books existed to exercise the mind. The most Iseult had exerted herself for a book was forcing herself to stay awake long enough to read just one more chapter a dozen or so times before resigning herself to being a filthy liar. And that was admittedly more a testament to her mental willpower than any physical endurance she may have possessed. Besides, the price she paid for a sleepless night was well worth the reward. It certainly didn’t leave her physically disabled.

Yet here she was, 22 and condemned to live in the body of a 90-year-old woman. All because she shelved books for a living.

Safi told her she’d have the ass of a model by the time she quit, what with all the squatting. Iseult had yet to notice any improvements. (Not that she was checking, of course.)

Maybe it really was time to go back to the gym, she thought as she massaged the painful knot at the base of her neck. Finally start going to yoga again like her best friend had been nagging her to do every Saturday morning since school term had started. A year ago it would have been Iseult dragging Safi out of bed at 7 A.M., succeeding only by using the one means of bribery she possessed: the promise of a double chocolate double whip hazelnut macchiato from the campus coffee cart, followed by a hash brown heist from the dining hall. Nothing quite curbed a sugar rush more than an adrenaline rush and some grease.

Iseult dropped her hand. The spot on her neck faded into a dull throb at the thought of her and Safi running from the dining hall, pockets stuffed with hash browns wrapped in napkins and a breakfast sandwich fisted in each hand, while cafeteria staff shouted after them as they escaped with their spoils.

No. She hadn’t stepped foot on campus since she dropped out. She wasn’t about to now. And not just because she and Safi now had copies of their student I.D. photos posted on the community board in the dining hall asking students to keep an eye out for the notorious thieves.

Drop out. There wasn’t an aspect of her life that didn’t seem to revolve around those two words. She could hear Safi scolding her.

“Don’t say that! ‘Drop out’,” she'd said one evening while they closed up her uncles’ coffee shop shortly after Iseult had made the decision. “You didn’t drop out of anything. You made a graceful exit. To do something more noble than any of those old toads sitting cushy in the administration have likely ever done, might I add! They should consider themselves lucky that you’ll even be coming back!”

Iseult fingered through the books on her cart. Well. That had been back in September. It was now January, the first week of second semester had just wrapped up and Safi had changed tactics.  Instead, she ranted about how the collegiate system was the world’s biggest scam, squeezing their generation of every last drop of money and happiness they had, and that she should drop out too just to have the satisfaction in giving Dean Henrick a big FUCK YOU. It was a touching offer, though, not exactly the most ambitious plot for revenge. Safi was running on a free ride. Henrick’s deep pockets wouldn’t be any lighter if she left. He’d still be sitting pretty on the proverbial throne.

“Iseult.”

Iseult looked up to see Evrane gliding down the aisle towards her, thoughts of school and Safi interrupted. As always she was impeccably dressed, from the silver dangling from her ears all the way down to the perfectly polished stilettos she wore. Her long white hair was pulled back in a sleek ponytail, leaving her bronze face bare, radiant even under the library’s miserable lighting - a feat aided by sorcery, Iseult could only assume. It was a wonder what patrons must think of her roaming the halls, what with her pale moon skin and midnight hair. She looked more like the ghost that was rumored to haunt the library tower.

But Evrane wasn’t the library’s director for her otherworldly cheekbones or dazzling emerald eyes. She was also the sharpest person Iseult had ever met and someone she couldn’t believe she had the privilege of calling a mentor.

Iseult hastily tugged off her earbuds. “Hi Evrane.” Her voice cracked; sshe cringed inwardly. She hadn’t spoken a word to anyone during her 8 hour shift. Evrane didn’t seem to notice.

“How are you, dear?” Evrane asked. She nodded to Iseult’s cart of books. “Tackling the nonfiction, I see.”

“Good,” Iseult replied, this time willing her voice to sound normal. “I’m almost done with the nonfiction, and then I have some books I need to bring down to Children’s. I think someone may have mixed up the carts. My shift ends soon, but I could stick around to shelve them. There aren’t too many but...” She trailed off watching Evrane shake her head, as though amused.

“That won’t be necessary,” she said, then adding, “Pleased as I am with your progress, I was actually wondering how you were doing… How was your trip home?”

Iseult stared blank-face at Evrane. She should have expected this. Evrane had taken to Iseult from the moment they’d met, always seeking her out between bookshelves, pulling her aside to talk about the latest book Iseult was reading or simply inviting her back to her office to join her for tea. Secretly, Iseult was pleased. To have a woman like Evrane be genuinely interested in what Iseult had to say… well.  It was more than she could have dared to hope for.

Which was exactly why couldn’t help asking herself, why?

Iseult never did come up with an explanation for why Evrane hired her in the first place. She could only assume the woman had done it out of pity. Her resume had been woefully thin to the point of being downright pathetic with only her part-time barista gig at Mathew and Habim’s coffee shop to her name. She had no other achievements. No special skills. And of course, now, no academic prospects to boast. Iseult had nothing to offer.

And yet... here Evrane was asking the one question Iseult wished she wouldn’t.

Home was the same as always. Saldonica never changed. It was still the grimy, cut-throat city it had always been, with its streets teeming with crime and illegal trade. That was the accepted way of life there. But it didn’t phase Iseult. She never really considered it home anyway. She hadn’t grown up there. There was only one thing, one person, who made Saldonica home.

Her mother. The true subject of Evrane’s inquiry.

So how was she?

Sick. Very sick. And showing little improvement. Though, she’d probably be worse if not for Alma caring for her day and night. If not for the money Iseult sent home each week to ensure she was getting the medication she needed. If not for her mother’s damned stubbornness to shirk life’s more unsavory aspects and persist in the face of uncertain fate. That in itself was likely aiding Gretchya more than Iseult and Alma’s contributions combined.

“Fine,” Iseult said, expression unchanging. It was automatic. Succinct. Gretchya would have approved.

Evrane merely hummed, bowing her head slowly. As though Iseult’s meager reply required deep and philosophical deliberation. “You know,” she continued after a moment, “I know this,” her eyes panned the bookshelves on either side of them, “wasn’t exactly where you expected to be by now. I am sorry your plans to return to school didn’t work out as you had hoped, Iseult… but I’d be lying if I didn’t tell you that I’m happy to have you with us for a little longer.” Evrane raised a hand to Iseult’s arm and gave it a reassuring squeeze, a gesture that should have been comforting, yet only turned Iseult to stone. “If there’s anything I can do to help, my door is always open.”

Iseult tried to nod. Swallowing suddenly became painful. Speech, impossible. Mercifully, Evrane let go of her arm and changed the subject.

“Now tell me, where is that cart you were talking about?”

“O-oh you d-don’t have to -” Iseult stammered. She immediately snapped her mouth shut. Hell-gates, did she have to stutter like that now?  In front of Evrane!

The woman seemed to take no notice and simply waved a hand. “I am the director of this institution, am I not? I think I am more than capable of handling a couple books.”

“By circulation,” Iseult forced out. Evrane gave her an appreciative smile, then walked away, her silver circlets tinkling prettily in the quiet of the library.

For a moment, Iseult simply stood there, staring down the aisle where Evrane had left. Eventually, she untangled her earbuds and popped them back in. She opened Spotify on her phone and swiped through the playlist she’d been listening to before Evrane showed up. However, after a few minutes of mindless scrolling, stuffed her phone into her back pocket, abandoning her search. Silence filled her ears.

Iseult grabbed a random book off her cart. She read its cover, though not really taking in the the words, and when she went to find its place on the shelf, it was as though she had not read it at all. This happened with every book she picked up over the next ten minutes, and when she finally forgot the author of The Autonomy of Dalmotti - a book she had personally read at least five times - she finally gave up.

Frustration prickled the back of her throat. Gripping the book tight, she leaned her forehead against the oak bookcase. The smell of old paper filled her nose as she let her eyes to sink shut, breathing in the musty air through her nose. What she would give to fall head-first into a book right now...

Stasis, she told herself. Stasis in your fingers and in your toes.

Gretchya sick.

Stasis.

Evrane. Broken words. Broken.

Stasis.

Drop out. Drop. Out. Drop. Out.

Stasis. Stasis. Stasis.

Over and over again Iseult silently whispered this to herself, until a familiar calm resettled in her chest, until every last thread of emotion was pulled tight. Nothing out of place. She took several more slow, deliberate breaths for good measure, then, she opened eyes.

That’s when she saw them.

Through the narrow opening between shelves, Iseult spied Evrane standing by the circulation desk. But it was who she was speaking with that caught Iseult’s attention.

It hadn’t taken Iseult long to familiarize herself with the people who passed through when she began working at the library. Though Venaza City was largely populated, the library had its regulars, and even those who visited only once in awhile had become catalogued in Iseult’s memory like the books she shelved. In fact, on more than one occasion, she found herself recognizing patrons outside of work - an oddly unpleasant experience. She already spent enough time dodging former college peers whenever she ventured out into the city. They now had competition.

That being said, Iseult knew nearly everyone who came to the library. Except for this man talking to her mentor.

Even from behind, there was something striking about him. He towered over Evrane, his imposing figure standing impossibly still in dark form-fitting jeans and a muddy burgundy leather jacket. Iseult wished he’d turn around so she could see his face. Regardless, two features immediately stood out. Or rather, accessories.

First, a blue, opal earring in his left ear. And second, the child held in his arms.

These two things seemed to clash together in Iseult’s mind. The girl, she guessed, was no more than five. A mop of dark hair obscured most of her face with only a red, chubby cheek visible resting on the man’s shoulder. As for the earring, Iseult wasn’t old-fashioned enough to believe men couldn’t wear jewelry. In fact, depending on the piercing’s style and placement, she found them rather appealing. However, the more closely Iseult looked at the gemstone, the more it called out to her as some sort of statement - and not one of the fashion variety. It lent little to the rest of his dark ensemble and stuck out like a sore thumb. It was too ornate. Too deliberate. Something worn out of habit.

Iseult inched forward, bracing a hand along the edge of the shelf as she watched from her hiding place amongst the books. She knew she was teetering on the edge of polite observation and straight-up creeping, but she was too curious to care. Evrane stood close to the young man, too close for him to be an ordinary patron. And there was something in the way that she looked at him that gave her the impression that she wasn’t simply giving him a book recommendation. Even through the warmth Iseult was so familiar with in her expression, she couldn’t miss the urgency in her eyes. Her lips were moving carefully, and she imagined the melodic gentleness of her voice, the same voice that had spoken to her only moments ago. Soft words only meant for him.

As if on cue, Evrane reached for his arm.

Iseult immediately noticed the mystery man’s shoulders stiffen. It was the first indication of life she’d seen from him during the entire encounter. A pulse ticked in his jaw, the only sliver of his pale face she could see. Evrane had stopped talking, but kept her hand on his arm, her thumb gliding back and forth, and appeared to be listening attentively to the man’s response. But as the seconds dragged on, her eyes - never wavering from his - glimmered with a touch of something new. Sadness, perhaps. Her expression dimmed, and eventually the hand holding his arm stopped moving and returned to her side.

Iseult’s nose was practically brushing the books blocking her from view now. Who was this guy? Evrane had never spoken of family or a significant other. On one occasion, she had mentioned a nephew - something about how he’d just returned home after studying abroad. But other than that, no one else. This couldn’t be him, could it? He had a child with him. A child who - Iseult suddenly realized with a jolt of horror - was staring right at her.

“What are you doing lurking in the shadows?”

The Autonomy of Dalmotti dropped to the floor with a rustle of paper and a soft thump as she whirled around. How her best friend had managed to sneak up on her in the dead silence of the library without her hearing, Iseult didn’t know, but the self-satisfied look Safi was pinning her with made her curse the Moon Mother for turning her momentarily deaf.

“If by lurking you mean shelving books,” Iseult replied smoothly, kneeling down to pick up the fallen book as though nothing had happened, “I’m working. It’s kind of in my job description.”

Safi cocked her head to the side, eyebrow arched. “Is spying on hot guys in your job description? Can’t see his face, but the view from behind is certainly enough to go on.”

Iseult felt a rush of unwanted heat flood her cheeks, but aside from that, her face betrayed nothing. Yes, she had been spying. But not in the way Safi thought, and the idea that she had been caught not only by her best friend, but by that strange little girl made her want to tear every book from the shelf and bury herself underneath them.

“What?” Safi persisted innocently as Iseult turned her back to her. She slipped The Autonomy of Dalmotti between two volumes, not particularly caring whether or not that was where it belonged so long as she didn’t have to see the infuriating smirk on Safi’s face. “I don’t blame you. You can’t be expected to stare at dusty, old books all day - no matter how much you love them.”

“Wanna bet?” Iseult muttered. For all her love of the library, she had thought she’d be back in school by now, trading in its dusty, old books for overpriced textbooks.

“I’d love to. Tonight, in fact. At The Cleaved Man.”

“I - ” Iseult began, but Safi’s hand slashed through the air cutting her off and she pointed a finger in Iseult’s face.

“Don’t say you can’t! I’ve barely seen you all week!”

“As if that’s my fault,” Iseult countered, grabbing another book and the opportunity to turn the tables. The last thing she wanted to do right now was spend the night in an overcrowded bar. “Where were you last night? You never came home.”

Safi picked up a book from Iseult’s cart and examined its cover. “Polly’s.”

Iseult paused mid-shelving. “Leopold’s?”

“Mhm.” Safi opened the book, casually flipping through its pages.  Silence stretched.  She looked up. “What?”

“I thought you weren’t going to see him again,” Iseult said, watching her friend carefully.

Safi lowered the book and frowned in confusion. “Not see him? What are you - ?” But as soon as the unfinished question left her mouth, Iseult saw the life in her eyes freeze for half a heartbeat, and comprehension slowly dawned on Safi’s face. A second later, her expression hardened. “Hell-gates, Iz! I didn’t mean him.”

Him. Or as he was known as in their apartment, the Chiseled Cheater. To the rest of the world, he was simply Caden. Handsome, strong-jawed, infuriatingly charming Caden.

Safi gave Iseult a disparaging look before snapping shut her own book and stuffing it onto a shelf where - Iseult noted - it should not be. Now wasn’t a good time to be pointing out mistakes. The hard line of her pursed lips may have grown taut like she was fighting to feign indifference, but Iseult knew when her best friend was hurt. And this time, it was her fault. Safi crossed her arms tightly over her chest.

“Like I’d ever,” Safi huffed, tossing her unruly sun-streaked hair over her shoulder, looking anywhere but Iseult. She let out a strained laugh and shook her head as though the thought of her and Caden together was ludicrous - though, it didn’t stop a tinge of pink blossoming across her cheeks. “Spend the night with him. Honestly, Iz. You know we’ve never - I’ve never -”

Pink turned to a vibrant red as she struggled for words before making a disgruntled noise and giving up.

“Sorry,” Iseult murmured, her expression void of all emotion. “I was just worried.”

Safi finally met Iseult’s gaze. The silence of the library was deafening. Then, she shook her head. “It’s fine,” she relented, and Iseult was relieved to hear sincerity in the statement that was universally known to mean the opposite. “I don’t blame you. I mean... he is Polly’s roommate and it’s me so…” Safi’s eyes darted away self-consciously and she took a fortifying breath, arms unwinding from her chest and hands bracing themselves on her hips. When she spoke next, there was no question as to whether or not they were moving on from the subject of the Chiseled Cheater. “By the time we got out of Two Left Feet and grabbed dinner, it was so late that I just ended up crashing at his place.”

“Two Left Feet?” Iseult repeated.  

“Modern dance," Safi replied, as though this was the most ordinary explanation in the world.

“Oh.” Iseult wasn’t sure what to say to that. “I didn’t know we had a modern dance company.” Or that Safi was interested in modern dance. “Um, how was it?”

“If that’s what modern dance is, then I’m not sure what I’ve been doing at the club all these years.”

“Two Left Feet.” Iseult paused. Her mouth twitched. “Seems like a counterintuitive name.”

“Ohh no trust me, they hit the mark on that one.”

Any hint of a smile left Iseult’s face. “Please tell me you didn’t heckle them.”

Safi’s hand flew to chest and she gasped. “Heckle? Us? Two purebred members of high society like ourselves? You insult me.”

“Don’t scoff. Last year you two almost single-handedly disassembled Pobody’s Nerfect.”

Safi shrugged half-heartedly. “It was an improv show. It’s supposed to be interactive.”

“You made that freshmen kid cry! I could have sworn I overheard him talking about transferring as we were leaving.”

“Audience participation was encouraged!” argued Safi. “Besides, the fact that we even went to their little dance performance was generous enough. You think I wanted to spend the first Thursday night of the semester watching people roll around on the floor trying to sell it to me as art?”

“Then why did you?”

“We were expanding our horizons?” Iseult rolled her eyes and turned back to her books as Safi laughed. “I don’t know. We were walking around campus after class and saw the sign and I was like, “Well, I have nothing else to do” so -” She stopped suddenly, as though a thought had just thought of something. “Should I have texted you? It didn’t even occur to me that you’d want to go to something like that.”

The concern in the question made Iseult pause… which irked her. The concern or the pause, she couldn’t tell which. Maybe because if she had been on campus with her and Leopold, there wouldn’t be a question of whether she’d have gone. Safi would have dragged her in there whether she liked it or not, and Iseult would have gone along with whatever Safi wanted to do as she always did - good idea or not. Modern dance would have been decidedly not. That never stopped Safi, though. Or Iseult.

“No,” Iseult simply answered.

Safi nodded, and though it was almost imperceptible, Iseult saw her lips purse, like she wasn’t entirely convinced. “Next time,” she only promised.

“There’s going to be a next time?”

“You never know.” Safi’s sea-blue eyes flashed mischievously. “Come on, I’ll show you a couple moves I learned at the Cleaved Man.” She gyrated her hips for emphasis, causing Iseult to look away embarrassed on her behalf. This only prompted Safi to bump Iseult’s hip with her own.

“Saf, I wasn’t kidding before,” Iseult insisted, stumbling over her feet as Safi went in for a second, more forceful hip check. “I really can’t -”

“Hey, you owe me after that comment about Chiseled Cheater!”

“30 seconds ago you were saying that I was right!” Really, the grudges this girl could hold. Iseult almost felt sorry for Caden.

Safi heaved a wistful sigh. “You know, if I could come keep you company at work, I would.”

“I’d never get anything done,” Iseult said, gesturing the pile of untouched books on the cart between them.

“Right. As if I’m the one distracting you, you little stalker.”

“I wasn’t -” Iseult began to protest, but Safi was already backing away down the aisle, doing what had to be the world’s worst attempt at the moonwalk.

“I’ll be warming up the car!” Safi whisper hissed, rattling her car keys in the air for emphasis. When she reached the end of the aisle, she spun around on the spot theatrically, and then she was gone.

Iseult shook her head after her ridiculous, wonderful best friend, then peered down at the pile of books in her cart. An hour ago she had been daydreaming of ordering the Arithuanian take-out that Safi never wanted to get and hunker down with one of her all-time favorite books, The Raider King. She’d be in bed by 9 and asleep by 9:15.

So much for that.

It was ironic, really. Safi could rant all she wanted about the injustices of the modern day collegiate system, but no amount of theoretical scheming to take down the patriarchy would change the fact that Iseult missed college.

She missed waking up every day and knowing where she was going and what she was doing. She missed her textbooks. She missed late night cram sessions at the university library with Safi and getting nothing done, aside from gaining 15 pounds from vending machine snacks. She missed misty morning walks to her 8 A.M. seminar. She missed the notes Leopold would pass her during Professor Rosa's soul-killing lectures. Heck, she missed her lectures.

And of course, she missed the dining hall hash browns.

So naturally - naturally - the only thing she didn’t miss about college was the one thing she couldn’t escape.

The college bar scene.

Iseult hadn’t taken Safi seriously when she announced one day just before summer break that she would be getting her bartender license. It seemed to be the thing every college student said the second after they turned 21. For Safi to voluntarily subject herself to 40 hours worth of training courses was enough to give Iseult doubt. However, unlike the rest of those drunk idiots, Safi was true to her word, and in no time, she started bartending at Venaza City’s most popular college bar, the Cleaved Man.

Moon Mother, kill me now, Iseult prayed as she pushed her book cart down the aisle. Its rickety wheels squeaked horridly in the cavernous hall. She cringed inwardly knowing that the second she turned the corner, all eyes would be narrowed on her, silently shaming her for disturbing the peace. Halfway down, though, she hesitated. The wheels grinded to a halt.

Ignoring the sick embarrassment bubbling in her stomach at what she was about to do, Iseult cast a look over her shoulder to make sure Safi was truly gone. Then, she leaned forward and peered between the stacks of books.

The mystery man and his little companion were gone.

[dracjoonie]

BTS Reactions ~ Date Night~[Hyung Line]

I’m actually posting content!?!? ik, right?? And its a long one! This has taken me all month to finally finish, so I hope it turned out good <3  Now to see how long Maknae line takes me...

Links and m/l in my bio~ 

𝕊𝕖𝕠𝕜𝕛𝕚𝕟

Date nights are in stone for him. Every Thursday night his schedule was cleared for you and if something came up it’d better get cleared or he would have some words. Same goes for you. Oh, your friends thought it would be nice to go to a movie with you on a Thursday night? That’s cute, better pick a different day though. Oh, your boss needs you that night? Ya, no. They better get someone else. And if they have a problem they can take it up with him. 

Some weeks date nights would be the only time you both would have the chance to see each other, so that alone would make him very insistent about it. I think hes the type to really value time together, so he would cherish the nights you had and would do what he needed to to make every one special. In his own way of course. They would start out early, maybe 5pm or earlier if you were both free. He would bring you to his apartment so you both could deescalate from all the chaos of the week prier, he would have groceries delivered so the both of you wouldn’t even have to leave if you didn’t want to. Sometimes he would cook, or you both would cook together. Other nights you would splurge and he would take you out to dinner somewhere nice. Somewhere with a gorgeous view and expensive wine. I feel like he wouldn’t be insistent on “dressing for the occasion” if you were both tired. He’s Jin, he could wear sweatpants to a 5 star restaurant and no one would bat an eye. And he would still call you beautiful if you showed up in pajamas and messy hair. 

Whether  you decided to stay in or not he would make sure you had both eaten until you were full and content, wanting to take you back to curl up together on the couch. You would watch something silly together, maybe some bad horror movies, anything you didn’t have to pay too much attention to because you would most likely be talking through it anyway. Talking, wrestling, lots of tickle fights, with sweet kisses in between. Every moment would be carefree with him, every Thursday becoming your weekly getaway from the stresses of real life.  And he would make it a point to be like that, real life could start at midnight and you could talk and rant about your lives then, but Thursdays were vacation. 

I also don’t see him letting you leave until morning, whatever that entailed~

𝕐𝕠𝕠𝕟𝕘𝕚

I doubt he would even call it date night, but that’s what it would be. I see it being spur of the moment, never planned longer than a week in advance unless it was a special occasion. Or unless he planned something in secret. I see it being really casual as well. It could even be the both of you running some errands and grabbing a bite to eat, but you would be together. Whatever you could work into your busy schedules. Sometimes if it was an off day you both had he would want to just sit around and do nothing, but would be more than pleased if you were willing to sit around and do nothing with him. 

And I mean nothing. As soon as you were over you would just laze around in his room, never leaving it if you didn’t have to. You might curl up with a laptop on his bed in a pillow fort while he online shopped or something. Listening to a playlist you both put together, breaking away from your devices to chat occasionally. You would both order some delivery and just hope that someone else was home to bring the food to his room so you wouldn’t have to venture out and be social. Some time into the day you would have fallen asleep; all curled up by your laptop, and he would wake you by dragging you into his arms and playing with your hair.  He would tell you how much it meant to him to just be able to spend casual time together with you, even if you weren’t really doing anything.

But on a night out things would be different. You both would go somewhere classy ™.   Classy and quite, probably on an off day too. You’d both sit in a corner by a window so you could people watch in peace. You’d sit and gossip and throw shade for hours over several glasses of wine. He’d tell you about how the wines he was picking were made, or even about the furniture or architecture in the restaurant. I feel like it’d be mostly him talking on a night out, all with his hands (especial after the wine) and he would just be living off of your reactions, however small they might be. 

ℍ𝕠𝕤𝕖𝕠𝕜

(I just reallly wanted to use this gif, and I may have been overly inspired by it. Oops xD) 

I feel like he would be the most planed. If its gonna be a date, its gotta be a DATE. Any other night you two were together could be casual, but once he had time on an excuse to go all out that’s exactly what he would do. I could see him making reservations for some place that’s super difficult to get into (I mean not for him cuz hes J-fucking-HOPE but~) Some place you’ve gotta count the 0′s next to the prices to be sure you read that right. He’d already prepare for you freaking out about not owning anything nearly lavish enough to be seen in a place like that. He’d just tell you to go open your closet and once you did there would be this brand new outfit for you, shoes and all. It’d be something booshie like Versace, Gucci,  Yves Saint Laurent etc. He’d take the price tags off so you couldn’t freak out about how much he was spending too, probably also rummaged through your closet months ago just so he knew your sizes. I see him renting a car for him to drive you rather than a driver, something sporty. Once you parked; valley, He walk you down towards the front entrance, his hand at the small of your back. It’d be so godamn fancy that paparazzi would be snapping pictures, and there would be plenty of other celebrity’s around. Probably poses for the cameras, spins and dips you to show you off because he would be proud to be spotted with his s/o so publicly. 100% gonna check the headlines to see the pics of you two once you both ordered.

But most nights you two would just goof around, maybe go to a karaoke night, or go shopping together. Maybe grab some burgers and head over to the company building so he could show you some dances he had been working on. Probably scream with you being extra competitive in an arcade until they kick y’all out at closing xD

ℕ𝕒𝕞𝕛𝕠𝕠𝕟

Date nights? Nononono. Date Days. Most days I don’t really see him being that into planning either. Prefers to pick a general destination and lets things progress “organically” from there.  I see him showing up at your door on your day off with a couple of bicycles he rented. Maybe a cute bouquet of flowers he may or may not have dropped a couple of times on the way over.  You would usher him inside and ask him how he even got all the way to you with two bikes and one free hand. A story for the ages. After you put the flowers in a vase and kissed him thank you he would already be dragging you towards the door, not wanting to wast any time. He already would have a destination in mind, somewhere quite on the outskirts of town a few miles out. Somewhere you could sit and enjoy the scenery, but close by to some local shops and restaurants he would be excited to visit. You would take the long way there, biking side by side through back neighborhoods and parks, maybe stopping by a lake to chase the birds and goof around in the water while looking for fish. 

Once you arrived you would ditch the bikes and stroll around through town.You would shop around and find a bunch of unique jewelry and clothing you would both be dying to add to your collections. Might have to hold him back from buying too much. Mid afternoon he would take you to a nature sanctuary. You would sit out in the grass by a stream among all sorts of trees and flowers. He would hold your hands while you lay back and talked for hours, watching the clouds and just enjoying how peaceful it was. He would share his thoughts and feelings, probably spilling his heart out to you and letting it be known just how much he appreciates the time you had. Once it got dark you would go back into town and find a small restaurant to eat at before heading back home. The way back would be just as care free, basking in the moonlight and watching the stars and headlights passing by. Probably stays the night at your place, and asks for your help returning the bikes come morning~ 

[keelywolfe]

Ficlet: Keeping Elastic

Summary: It's Stretch's turn to be the de-aged one and as with so many things, results do vary.

Tags:  Pre-Spicyhoney, Pre-Relationship, De-Aged, Possible Implied Past Child Abuse (nothing explicitly shown), Angst, Hurt/Comfort

Notes: Okay, so a while back I wrote a couple of cute shorts with Edge de-aged. Here and the sequel here if you wanna read them. 

Anyway, this morning I woke with a hangover and a mighty urge to do the same, but for Stretch. Only his version is a little angstier. Why am I like this? We may never know.

Read it on AO3

or

Read it here!

~~*~~

When Red texted him about what happened, Edge hurried through his morning rounds as quickly as he could while still maintaining his normal composure. He had no idea where his brother got his information but hearing that Stretch had gotten himself into some bizarre situation that had left him temporarily as a child seemed like an opportunity not to be missed.

This he had to see for himself.

Once he’d checked in at every guard post, taking a moment to snarl at his brother for napping before it was even noon, and recalibrated every trap, he went home, ignoring the stares of the Snowdin citizens who were unaccustomed to seeing him at this hour. Even he was allowed to vary his schedule from time to time.

He barely took the time to change out of his uniform before heading over to Underswap. A necessary evil if he wanted to avoid the attention of those who lived in that Snowdin. A quick jaunt through the machine’s portal and soon enough he was standing on the Swap brothers' porch, knocking firmly and waiting eagerly for a glimpse of Stretch as a pathetic child. He did hope Blue allowed him to take a picture or two.

The door was yanked open with a rush of displaced air and before Edge could so much as greet him, Blue snarled out, “What the hell do you want?!”

Edge blinked down at him in shock; he couldn’t recall ever seeing the little Blueberry as anything but cheerfully delighted to answer the door.

To see him frazzled and actually profane was enough to make him want to double-check that he’d come out in the correct Universe.

He seemed equally surprised to see Edge, but it didn’t stop him from grabbing Edge by the hand and yanking him into the house. “Oh, thank heavens, come in, please.”

“What—” Edge stumbled after him, unable to even kick the snow off his boots before Blue was closing the door behind him, chattering on frantically.

“Obviously you’re here to see Pappy and obviously you’re here to gloat so you can make fun of him later and normally that would just make me shake my head at you two and maybe a little sad but he’s been crying since Undyne dropped him off and I don’t know anything about children!” Blue burst out, words exploding from him until he ran out of breath, dropped his head into his hands as he heaved for air.

“Um.” Edge stood frozen on their carpet, melting snow from his boots darkening it. This was not at all what he had been expecting.

“Why would I know about children?” Blue demanded, his ranting carrying him away when Edge could only shrug weakly. “My brother raised me, and I’ve spent my time training for the guard, the closest I get to children is occasionally bumping into the ones who follow Alphys around!”

That was more than Edge ever interacted with them. He glanced around the living room and found nothing that hadn’t been there the last time he’d visited. “Where is he?”

“He was crying earlier and now he’s hiding. I don’t know what to do!” Blue sounded close to tears himself, miserably unhappy. “Maybe he’s hungry. Can you watch him for a moment while I make some lunch?”

“Me?” Edge took a startled step back and gave the door a longing glance. “I know less about children than you do!”

But Blue looked like he was on the verge of a breakdown, pleading shining in his eye lights, and Edge sighed. “Fine, just be quick about it.”

Blue disappeared into the kitchen so quickly it was a wonder he hadn’t learned to teleport. This was the price Edge paid for his hubris. Red had always warned him about the cost of revenge; if it wouldn’t bring the battle to an end, it was only going to increase the debt.

He’d just never expected babysitting to be on the price list.

Edge sat on the sofa with a huff and wondered how he was supposed to watch a child when he wasn’t even certain where they were.

The answer came in the form of rustling from behind him. The sound traveled down the length of the sofa to the end and from around the arm, a tiny skull poked up, peering at him with wide sockets and soft, pale eye lights.

“Hello,” Edge said awkwardly. This was Stretch and yet, it really wasn’t. The nickname hardly seemed appropriate for one who probably didn’t reach Edge’s knee. The child didn’t reply but he did come closer; the blue t-shirt he was wearing must have been his brother’s and it was still long enough to trail on the floor as he toddled up.

He stared up at Edge with peculiar solemnness. He did resemble Stretch, well, perhaps Rus was a more appropriate moniker. But it was obviously him. Edge wasn’t certain what he had been expecting. Perhaps a lazy child napping on the sofa or an exuberant one, laughing at ridiculous jokes and puns. It wasn’t this silent, wide-eyed little baby bones whose face was still streaked with drying tears.

Suddenly, he held up his little arms, somehow both trusting and imploring. When Edge only looked at him, his small face crumpled into uncertainty and he started to take a step back, perhaps to crawl behind the sofa again.

So Edge carefully lifted him up, settling his slight weight on his knee. Apparently, he was too small a child to balance himself, so Edge held on to him to keep him from tumbling back to the floor. That Blue would prefer his brother to remain unbroken in Edge’s care was strongly implied.

For the first time, a smile broke across Rus’s face. He giggled and bounced, seemingly happy with his newfound height for at least a moment. Then his smile faded and he reached out with cautious fingers. Edge kept himself from flinching away as he set a small hand against the crack in Edge’s left socket with startling gentleness.

“hurt?” he asked solemnly, in a soft, sweet voice that would someday turn into the lazy, sardonic one Edge was accustomed to hearing. Tears trembled again in his small sockets, at the verge of overflowing. The sight made Edge’s soul clench unexpectedly.

“No. It doesn’t hurt anymore,” Edge told him quietly. They both jerked as the kitchen door swung open and Blue came through it, a tray in his hands.

“All right, here we are…oh!” Blue sat the tray down and clasped his hands to his chest with hopeful delight, “There you are, Pappy, I—"

Instantly, Rus was scrambling from Edge’s knee into his arms, burying his face into his shirt and whimpering. It was automatic to pull him in close, cupping his small skull in one careful hand as he and Blue exchanged matching bewildered looks.

Edge gently patted Rus’s quivering back, murmuring softly, “There, you’re all right, you’re safe.” While Blue looked on in hurt and confusion as his brother peeked out around Edge’s arm and shivered, curling back against him tearfully.

“bad,” Rus whimpered, “bad.”

Edge had no idea what to say to that, only held him and tried awkwardly to soothe those tears. Eventually, Rus drifted into an unsettled sleep in the curve of Edge’s arm, with an occasional hiccoughing sob escaping him. Only then did Blue creep in closer. He pulled a blanket off the back of the sofa before sitting gingerly next to Edge, tucking it around his sleeping brother with tender care.

“Why would he be scared of me?” Blue whispered. His normally starry eye lights were round and narrow, filled with his confused dismay

“I don’t know.” Edge was more than confused himself. He would have thought his own features would be more frightening to a child than Blue’s rounded, happy ones. “How long did Undyne say he’d be this way?”

“She’s coming back for him tonight. She would have kept him at the lab, but she said it isn’t very childproof. Edge—”

He knew what Blue was going to ask and sighed, “I can stay until she comes back.”

“Thank you,” Blue gave him a weak smile. “I’m not sure what happened when Pappy was little to make him so frightened of me, but I’d rather not traumatize his second childhood, too. Not if I can help it.”

Edge nodded slowly, looking at the sleeping child cradled into the curve of his arm, so small and trusting. By tonight he’d be much taller, likely a cigarette dangling from his fingers, with insults and sarcasm poised lazily between his tongue and teeth to be wielded with razor-like precision whenever he worked up enough energy to do it.

What had happened in between this child and that adult? Edge doubted very much that Stretch was going to volunteer any information. It made him wonder what his own brother would say if he asked. Probably less.

He’d come over here expecting to find material to mock his not-quite-nemesis, perhaps take a humiliating picture or two. Instead, he’d stumbled across a mystery that he wasn’t certain how to solve.

But looking at the sleeping child curled trustingly in his arms filled him with determination to try.

-fin-

Read the Sequel

[thedogsled]

Who Tube (Doctor Who YouTube) is hilariously terrible at the moment. You’ve got new fans being gatekept by old fans and then yelling at the old fans and then the old fans yelling back, people subtweeting each other on their channels “Some YouTubers, they know who they are”, people posting vicious rants as soon as episodes end--lots of really really toxic shit on both sides. Like. It’s hilarious--if you enjoy VERY thinly veiled misogyny on one side and blind adoration for progressiveness at the expense of decent writing on the other. If you listen to these people, it’s not very difficult to see where the canon schism between straight white “geek culture” males and anyone with a so labeled by said people SJW motivation come to blows. They both think the other side is just ignorant, and the constant lashing out is just. Wow. It’s really. Wow.

Saltiness ahead.

It frustrates me a lot, because I feel the show has been really hit and miss this season and the warring on YouTube is just another example of how you just can’t discuss this reasonably. It’s not all bad, but it’s certainly been far from all good. Some of it REALLY works, like for example Ryan’s dyspraxia and the decision to explore Yasmin’s character through her grandmother’s story, but some of it doesn’t. I was particularly dismayed today, spoilers, by James I being played through the lens of modern campness by Alan Cumming this week, turning the former monarch into a queer caricature (I know the guy most from his role in Spy Kids, Fegan Floop, which replays ENDLESSLY on british TV). I feel like a lot of the episodes of this season have been simply the characters thrown into chaos, bad guy is revealed to be an alien, then the Doctor gives a shockingly profound, emotional speech that makes you forget how awful some of the other parts were and you go away with ~feels~ and not much else, because all the endings are pulled out of the writer’s ass anyway. Just. That’s how I personally saltily feel about this show this season, like it’s been platforming for a bunch of different writers saying what they want to say about humanity through the Doctor’s mouth. Like she’s ceased to exist beyond her existence as that mouthpiece, and that in some ways the show has too. (just my opinion. anyway.)

But you can’t talk about this stuff. I find myself reading reviews and watching people who like the show and place no accountability on the show beyond being politically bold, and it drives me nuts. It doesn’t matter what form it comes in, so long as it’s pro-feminist, or it exposes people to history they might not have learned in class, or there’s a dude giving birth for 50% of the airtime. If I want to hear or discuss any challenge to those things, I find myself listening to purely negative reviews instead, and noping out when the person suddenly reveals halfway through that they believe that because men aged 18-40 is a big demographic, it only makes sense that they’re the group that are kowtowed to at every opportunity. Like wtf dudes, sorry you can’t hack that other people exist in the world and you aren’t being catered to 24/7 any more. Fuck off. So it’s no wonder the antis feel Doctor Who lovers are all SJWs and the pos!Who people are convinced that the antis are all racist misogynist fucks. (The showrunners do too afaik, and that isn’t helped at all by Chibnall and Jodie both being SO resistant to negativity that neither of them seem to be soliciting fan feedback that isn’t positive.) Is it hard to ask for objectivity, though? For something that comes down the middle? That isn’t racist and misogynistic, but maybe still cares about how the things we’re looking for in terms of representation are being handed to us? How about, at least, not having to listen to some people who are so entitled that they literally think that Jodie Whitaker shouldn’t have shot out any babies so that she can instead devote her entire life to making TV shows? (Seriously, I listened to one girl who thought that, and you could hear her contempt for people who have kids in every syllable.)

I’ve liked episodes of this season. The Kablam! episode was great, I only had minor complaints with the ep that I handwaved away because I felt like there was actually some dramatic tension. I liked episode 2 because it was idk. A fun adventurous romp and the characters all had flaws. I quite liked Rosa because it had the bones of something better, and that showed through in all the scenes where Rosa’s actress (Vinette Robinson, who was also in the Chibnall episode ‘42′, btw what nepotism how many british actors do you think there are?) interacted with the other characters. 

But they weren’t all perfect, at least to me. Maybe I’m a negative nelly, because everyone seems to be tripping over themselves to scream positivity about the show in their reviews, but I, personally, feel like much of it has fallen flat. When they did finally drop - as they’ve been avoiding for much of this season - the ‘If I was a bloke this wouldn’t have been a problem’ thing, it wasn’t even delivered with a great deal of gravity or purpose. Maybe some people think that was a good thing, I don’t know, but looking at the way sexism was handled in Timeless, for example, and hell, Sliders (which was a trashy 90s show about jumping between alternate realities; or Quantum Leap for that matter, which had Sam jump into the lives of women in the past and experience days in their lifetimes), it’s way past the era of TV to deliver that kind of line like it’s inconsequentially drawing attention to something nobody noticed before, you know? Why is the BBC always 100 years behind, despite playing like it’s the most progressive thing ever? Why do we let it, and say “Sure we’ll take it, that’s enough” instead of also insisting they tell GOOD stories, and not wave their hand and say aliens did it at the end of every episode? I get it’s a time traveling series but the aliens show up and then the doctor waves her magic wand and ~science~ and yes she quoted Arthur C Clarke but she can do that and be powerful and tell powerful stories that aren’t completely...halfhearted, and if you don’t have trumped up stupid bad guys you don’t have to have flimsy solutions for beating them at the end.

We SHOULD be seeing ourselves in the media we’re absorbing. I firmly believe that. I also think, though, that we’re entitled to be respected by that media as well, in that the stories we’re seeing that show US should be good stories. They shouldn’t be concentrating on making as many nods as possible to as many corners of culture as possible that it stops caring about the story it’s telling, because whatever politically correct points it scores will ensure people overlook its flaws. It’s disrespectul, and we shouldn’t allow it, because it means we’re nothing but a commodity, an unquestioning storyblind audience that just doesn’t care so long as our representation needs are getting catered to. That means we’ll keep getting more representation, but a lot of it will be shit, because no matter what we’ll throw up our hands and give it ten out of ten and rigorously defend it no matter what caricatures it throws in front of us.

We should demand better stories alongside our representation. Fandom is so powerful now that we’re being written for, because as a whole we aren’t objective. We engage in mass squeeing, we’re GREAT at giving positive feedback and high ratings like it’s our job to do it even if it’s undeserved (and arguably Who NEEDED that positive feedback this year) and best of all anyone who doesn’t agree can be written off as an angry white dude, or racist, or just ignorant. That’s good for ratings and good for clicks, and networks eat that stuff up because it makes them money. But that isn’t respect, and we shouldn’t be selling ourselves out for a bargain basement price.

That’s my last word on it for now. I’ll probably complain again next week, and I know I KNOW this isn’t a popular pov for people, but I’ve made my bed with that. For those of you who loved it, I’m glad for you. I’m mostly disappointed for myself. And I still think camp James I was fucking terrible but I already know people love him, so what do I know?

P.S. my tags are for my flist so they can blacklist properly, not to force my saltiness down the throats of other Who fans. You don’t have to agree with me. I just needed to vent.

[loljulie]

stay with me; {007} penny lane

(thank you guys so much for being patient with this fic. i’ve been packing and preparing to move + working, and free time is hard to come by. that being said, it brings a smile to my face to see these chapters still getting notes weeks after they’ve been posted.  shoutout to @from-the-clouds​ for helping me w the name in this chapter. here’s the next installment, enjoy lovelies~)

genre: dunkirk

collins x reader

word count: 1874

Following your previous engagement with Collins, you realized more than ever how real the war still was for him. It wasn’t like the entirety of WWII escaped your mind when you were with him, but somehow spending time with him made you forget the politics of that era. His episode was more or less of a wake-up call of sorts.

You two had planned to stay in again – as most of your dates had been with the oncoming winter bringing chilly weather with it. This time, however, you set your module to about an hour before you were supposed to arrive at his house. You took hurried steps down the sidewalk, moving fast in an attempt to reach your destination before you froze to death.

According to your research, the building you were looking for was a couple streets over from your usual route. You had committed the street names to memory – for you knew that if you got lost here, you couldn’t pull out a smartphone to show you the way. Of course, you could ask a stranger for directions – but why mess anymore with people from the past than you already are?

Finally, you made it to the property you had been searching for. Its walls were made from red brick and the doors – unlike most in the area – were comprised only of metal fencing. Above the entrance was a dark green sign and in white lettering, it read Animal Rescue League. You smiled to yourself, mentally congratulating your navigational skills, before pushing open the door and heading inside.

Despite the doors offering no protection against the cold winds outside, the interior of the building wasn’t as cold as you had expected it to be. There was a stretch of hallway from the entrance until you made it to the actual lobby, which might have kept the frigid air from venturing too far into the building. As you walked along it, an older gentleman brushed by you quickly and made a loud exit behind you. A woman in her 40s with fawny, short hair had her arms crossed over her chest as she peered into a cardboard box on her desk. ��

“Awright, whut kin I doo for ye?” she asked, her voice airy and frustrated. “We cannae tak' anymair drop offs today, we're full.”

“Oh, no, I’m not dropping off,” you answered and stepped closer to the desk. At that moment, the woman looked up with something akin to hope in her eyes. “I was looking to adopt.”

“Och, really? Thank god,” she sighed and rubbed her temple with a free hand. Now being in proximity of the desk, you heard faint whimpering and rustling coming from within. “I'm sorry aboot my tone juist noo, tis juist that we keep getting mair animals dropped aff than we kin fin' homes for.”

“Lik' juist noo,” she gestured for you to sit down in the seat in front of her desk while she plopped into the chair behind it. “This bloke dropped aff this box o' wee collies. Aboot 5 o' thaim in 'ere. Said th' mither got pregnan’ n’ he cannae afford to keep more than juist her. Said we cuid fin' homes quicker than he cuid, 'n' juist left wi'oot anither word. I didn’ even hae time tae tell him no.”

During her rant, you managed to steal a few glances into the box. Sure enough, you spotted a few multicolored bodies wriggling around inside. They had mainly black bodies, and so they all blended together which made it difficult to count how many were inside – but from your guess, they had to be a few months old from their size. “Bit, anyway, whit kind o' pet were ye lookin’ to tak' home today, hen?”

You looked back to the woman and shifted in your seat. “Uhm, well, a dog, that’s for sure. I don’t have anything specific in mind, though.”

A companion for Collins was more of what you were looking for, for the times you weren’t there to calm him down or keep him from being lonely. It would hopefully be almost like a therapy dog for him, as you knew how well those worked for people who suffered from stress disorders.

“Wid ye be interested in one o' these, then?” she nodded her head to the box. At her gesture, you leaned over to fully look at the puppies inside. “It wid save me a bit of o' cataloguing if ye took one afore I tag 'em.”

Your heart melted once you got a good look at the writhing mass inside. Each puppy had the same, basic colors of white, black, and tan, but the markings on each of them were unique. You smiled as you peered into the box, and noticed the smallest one catching your eye and pawing up the side of the box to sniff you. You hovered your hand just inches from its nose, and giggled as it lapped at your hand instantly.

“Looks lik' th' runt o' th' litter,” you heard the woman comment as she watched you interact with the puppy. Her next statement came out as a warning. “Likelie won’ mak' it through th' winter.”

After it had licked you for a minute or so, you cautiously brought both hands in secured them around its body and quickly lifted it from the box. Its pink paws paddled through the air before you brought its small body to your chest. You got a better look at it now and noticed its tan eyebrows, white chest and white paws. A white streak divided its face, and its cheeks held more tan coloring.

“How adorable,” you cooed as it reached up to lick your chin. You giggled once more.

“It's yers fur th' taking,” the worker replied, and you glanced over to her to catch her smiling at the both of you. “Looks lik’ a she.”

You’d leave the naming up to Collins. After all, she would be his dog.

“I’ll take her.”

The lady insisted that you only pay a discounted price for the pup, considering it was the runt of the litter and she didn’t believe she would last that long. You instead paid exactly what the regular price would be and went on your way to meet up with Collins.

You knocked on the wooden door with your free hand, the puppy slightly shivering beneath your thick coat. She managed to behave nicely the whole walk home, especially with you only using one hand to carry her beneath your outer layer. You probably should’ve purchased a collar and leash, but then again you also knew it was too cold to let the puppy face the cold on her own. From outside you could hear bare feet thudding against the wooden floor as Collins approached the front door.

“Come in, come in, tis freezin’ outdoors,” his voice called as the door opened. You hastily pushed your way inside, careful to hide the bulge in your jacket from him.

“Listen,” you started after seeing Collins raise an eyebrow at you and your still-on coat. “I got you something, and I really hope you like it, because I’m pretty sure I can’t return it.”

“Ye didnae hav to git me anythin',” he replied in a low voice as he playfully smiled at you. “bit I will love whetevur it is,” he made a step toward you and pulled you into a kiss. The kiss melted away the coldness in your cheeks from the cold, but it was interrupted from a small yelp inside your jacket.

Collins froze in the kiss and slowly pulled away a couple feet, eyeing your stomach area. With the surprise pretty much found out, you opened your winter jacket to reveal the puppy’s eager face. You felt her tail slap against your arm as her eyes registered the other human in front of her.

“Oh my…” was all he managed as he stared at the puppy in your arm. For a moment, you feared that he’d reject the dog, and that you’d have to take her back to your time without knowing if it’d survive life in the future. But, a smile cracked on Collins’ face as he approached you once more. “Kin I haud it?”

You smiled in relief and nodded, holding the border collie puppy out for him to take. “She’s very friendly.”

His face lit up when he took the small body from your grip. He brought her to his face and laughed as she licked at his nose, her tail wagging more furiously now that she was in his hands. He brought her to his chest, using one hand to hold her and the other to scratch her head while he glanced at you.

“She's amazing. I love her,” he said and leaned in for a quick peck to your lips. “Ta, darlin'.”

You only nodded in response and began to finish removing your coat while Collins cooed over his new puppy. As you hung your jacket on the rack, you watched as Collins set her down on the ground and let her roam around. She then proceeded to jump on one of his shoes, biting the shoelace as it flew into the air. The scene caused the both of you to chuckle.

“Apparently she was the runt of the litter, but she’s so lively that it’s hard to believe,” you commented as she then began to investigate the dining room table, sniffing at each leg.

“I think I will name her Penny,” Collins said as he watched her use the chair to support herself on her hindlegs. “How’s tha’? Penny!”

Penny looked over to Collins and tilted her head as he kept repeating the name, and went back to her investigation. You glanced at him, an eyebrow raised. “Why Penny?”

“That wis th' name o' my friend in primary schuil,” he explained with a shrug. “It haes a nice ring to it, don’ it?”

You nodded thoughtfully as Penny landed back on all four paws and trotted back to the two of you. She sat down and looked up at you both, expectantly.

“Ooh, I’d guess that look means you’re hungry,” you said as you bent down to get closer to her. She tilted her head at first, but then stood up as you got closer to her. She jumped so that her paws were on your knees and tried to lick your face, but only met air.

“I think I hae some leftover venison wi' Penny's name oan it,” Collins chirped as he began to walk to the kitchen. You followed suit, with Penny bounding behind you. He fell back a few steps so that he was next to you, and wrapped his arm around your shoulders.

“I love ye,” he said sweetly and kissed the side of your head. You smiled at him and planted a kiss on his cheek.

“I love you, too.” And you desperately wished that you could’ve stayed in that moment forever – because while your future may hold a thousand possibilities, the only one you wanted was the one that involved Penny, Collins, and enjoying a tame life together away from anything else.    

[kandismon]

Would you be okay sharing how you make money from your art now, and how you got there? You seem so happy in that post you made a while back, and in your tags sometimes!

hiya nonny

sorry for the late reply, i knew i wanted to take some time to answer this properly and i had to wait until now ;;;;;;;;;;

i hope you’re still around to read it ;;;;;

i’m gonna put this under a read more because i ended up rambling and wrote an entire essay (and it’s probably way too honest but that’s the only way i know how to talk to people and maybe someone can get something out of this lolol)

1. HOW THE HECK DID I GET HERE

i used to be stuck in a job a couple of years ago that not only bored the hell out of me but also gave me nightmares for the longest time for various reasons and it ended up draining all of my energy and for a while i wasn’t able to enjoy what i love most, which is, of course, drawing. i’m not good at leaving thoughts and worries regarding work at my workplace, i’m the type to take it all home with me and it made me become apathetic and unable to get excited over anything and i could practically feel my motivation to create anything leave me.

at that time i started noticing that my audience had grown quite a bit over the years and i was already doing a few commissions here and there and i had sold a couple of fanbooks, and those were things i really loved doing, but, as mentioned above, at that time i didn’t really have the energy to focus on that because i was still wasting most of my day with that unsatisfying job.

thanks to my partner, who kept kicking my ass for a while, i ended up looking for a new job, found a shop that was looking for someone to hire part-time, i applied, got it and quit my old job the next day.

part-time seemed great, because it meant i’d have double the time to work on art and commissions and also i was probably going to be able to sleep well again because i didn’t have to worry about what was going on at my old workplace anymore, right?

…. wrong.

while i really liked working at that shop, it took up a lot of time too in the end, due to extra-time, extra (non-paid) responsibilities and interpersonal problems. also i suck at saying no to people, so bye-bye time for art and welcome back nightmares.

while working there, more and more commissions started coming in, my audience kept growing slowly but steadily, people were actually interested in comics and products i made ?? and i didn’t make a lot of money back then by a long stretch but it was just. so. fulfilling. i love doing commissions, i love drawing stories and sharing them, and there’s no better feeling than making a thing yourself and ending up with the finished product in your own hands, and my wish to freelance more came from these experiences.

meanwhile the situation at work started pissing me off more and more and i was close to saying fuck it and quitting so so often and, well, last year i finally did (again thanks to my partner for listening to my rants and also kicking my butt to get the hell out of there LOL)

i was considering looking for yet another job but tbh after all these years i’m tired of having to deal with authority figures that pay you jackshit for your work but try to push you around 24/7 and bend you to their will because they don’t give a fuck about their employees and only care about $$$ (or maybe i’m just too stubborn and can’t deal with people who try to tell me what to do [i’m pretty sure that’s the main issue tbh lolol])

so i decided to try and become an independent artist full-time. which is still risky but

a) if i don’t try it, i’ll regret it for the rest of my life

b) i have no one i have to support financially except for myself, so in case i fail the only person who’ll get in trouble is me, which is very convenient ??

for various reasons i had no choice but to jump right into this without feeling prepared enough at all BUT i still think it’s gonna work out somehow. i’ve learned a lot these last couple of weeks/months and i’m positive that it’s going to be Just Fine.

2.) WHAT THE HECK AM I ACtuALLY DOING

i do still feel like i have no idea what i’m doing most of the time, so take everything below with a bit of skepticism but i think i’ve been doing some things right without even realising it.

like, even though quitting my job and deciding to work as an artist was a very impulsive decision, i think i fulfill the necessary requirements for it to work out:

i had some money saved up that could help me survive for a few months if i ended up not being able to make any money for a while

i already had freelance jobs lined up and projects i was working on that would provide me with some sort of income

and it’s been working out so far ??? (let’s talk again in a few months when i realise all the things i’ve forgotten or fucked up)

things i noticed during that time, that i need to fix/work on/learn:

 i need to raise my prices again or come up with a better system like ?? patreon at some point in the future maybe (because at this rate i have to draw at least 20 commissions each month JUST to make enough money to pay rent and insurance, and while jobs are coming in, which is great, i’m going to kill myself sooner rather than later with this workload)

i need to figure out a way to reduce the time i spend each day with just answering emails/messages/asks/mentions because it takes away a lot of time that i should spend drawing and while i really want to reply to everyone who takes the time to write me, i just can’t do it anymore without losing too much time orz so i’m trying to think of a solution, like a ?? monthly post in which i just reply to questions i’ve gotten a lot or something IDK

taxes wtf

as much as i love doing commissions, i do need to find a way to be able to work just as much on personal projects, because in the end that’s what i really want to do and what gives me the needed motivation to wake up in the morning and continue to work hard on myself and my skills

speaking of mornings, i need to find a daily routine again, my hours are all over the place, which i had decided i would allow myself for some months but it’s time i made a proper schedule that i can stick to

anyway, my current income consists of commissions, leftover comic sales and nice people who send me donations through ko-fi ; ;

at the end of the month i have not actually made any money though, usually i have a bit of a loss but that’s fine since i’m just starting out and you can never expect to make profit immediately when you start a business. i’m still figuring things out and will hopefully manage to actually make enough money to live off soon lol;;;;;;;;;;

i hope this ?? answers your questions?? if there’s anything else you wanna know, feel free to ask &i’ll try to not take 3 months to reply LOL

i’m more than willing to share whatever little experience and knowledge i can offer, i don’t believe in keeping things to yourself just so that nobody else can benefit from them, i think it’s much better to share information and help each other out if possible ;;;;

also i’m sorry if this is too much information that nobody asked for, i have never learned how to get to the point quickly OTL

[yourlocalyorozuya]

If you could get your wish granted one day...?

Pairing: Soraru/Mafumafu

Rating: M+ SUPER HOT OH LORD

A03 Link

[[STORY UNDER CUT OH LOOOORD]]

If you could get your wish granted one day, what price would you be willing to pay?

An Utaite fanfiction

I wish it was still April Fools.

...

Yes this is an April Fool's fic. "10 days late?" You're asking me?

Friend, time is an illusion, death is upon us and my uploading schedule is the real joke of this entire fic. It was actually supposed to be me uploading 2 fics in one day but this works too tbh

Anyway, if you're still here, might as well deliver!

If you could get your wish granted one day, what price would you be willing to pay?

An Utaite fanfiction

“This is terrible!” 

“What?” 

“Terrible!” Mafumafu says, “The title is so long, it can barely even be crammed into the post title!” 

“Don’t you mean fanfiction title?” Soraru replies, frowning, “Then again, it depends on the site where it’s posted.”

“It’s still long either way! It’s so long, we had to cut it to cram it short in both! We made it into an awkward looking question!”

“It looks like something you’d ask for Truth or Dare.” Soraru concedes, “Then again, it’s not like this fic is going to be taken seriously. It’ll probably go for 3 notes/kudos/likes, like usual.” 

“Yeah. I mean no! Isn’t that bad?! Shouldn’t we try to entertain as many people as possible?? Isn’t the the whole point of a story in the first place?!”

“Of a TV show, maybe. I don’t know about books...or fanfictions...in any case, the M rating should be enough to draw more than 3 readers in, right?”

“Anyway, we can’t really do that with you acting like that!”

“...? What’s wrong with how I act?” 

“You have all the enthusiasm of burnt ashes! We can’t engage the audience like this!!”

“...??? Isn’t this how I usually sound though?” 

“That’ll appeal to the Soraru fangirls for sure, but we need to bring in as many people as possible! We can only get so many ikemen fans, you know!”

“Exactly how do you want me to act then?!”

“It’d be nice if I could get an ounce of emotion in there...and hasn’t this format gotten confusing?!”

“Why? What do you mean???”

“First of all, this is entirely dialogue-based and no-one can tell who’s even talking any more!” 

“Isn’t this how fanfictions are written though?”

“It’s too confusing!! Much too confusing! It’d be easier if we did-”

Mafumafu: Something like this! 

Soraru: Eh?

Mafumafu: The ever-popular radio format!

Soraru: Are we seriously doing the radio transcripts?! Isn’t this for something like sexting fics or something? 

Mafumafu: -puts hand on heart- What kind of fanfictions have you been reading Soraru-san?!

Soraru: You’re even putting your gestures in this format now?! Why has this become Hikikomoranai Radio all of a sudden??!

Mafumafu: It’s what we’re most known for!

Soraru: This and not the songs we’ve made?!

M: Anyway, we have an April Fools fanfiction to write in!

S: Our names are already being shortened, geez. Are they that hard to write?

M: Usually, when we do April Fools’, we have one thing we turn to.

M: So naturally, we’re going to be girls again!

S: Y’know that changing our icons to girl versions of ourselves and posting as girls isn’t really crossdressing right?

M: We sung as girls though!

S: That’s entirely different from crossdressing! 

M: We’ve crossdressed before!

S: You have, I haven’t!

M: I mean, I did but that’s entirely different!

S: How exactly is that different?!

M: I never said we were crossdressing, Soraru-san!

S: You said we’d be girls though?

M: Eheheee, I did! 

M: -holds up really strange looking rock-

S: Okay, I can see that thanks, we don’t need the gesture thing!

M: But our audience does Soraru-san.

S: Mrgh.

M: And don’t interrupt, please! Now, this is a magical stone!

M: And it transforms us into our inner selves!

S: ....

S: Mafumafu-kun, I’ve always had my doubts...

M: Eh? 

S: I’ve had my doubts...ever since we did that song. But...

M: Eh??? Why are you talking in keigo all of a sudden???

S: You really are a Chuuni aren’t you? 

M: EH? 

S: I’ve had my suspicions, but really it’s come to this!! How can I ever associate with someone who actually thinks he’s a ruler of darkness and will take over the world-

M: Soraru-san??

S: I...I alWAYS THOUGHT YOU WERE JOKING IS THIS TRUE HOW

M: Soraru-san!

S: Yes? 

M: Y-you calmed down from that rant fast. And hey, listen to me first!

S: Fine, okay.

M: Look, this stone is a magical relic...stop making faces. 

S: Okay, okay.

M: And all we have to do is touch it and we transform into magical girls!

S: And I’m lost. 

M: Eh, that was a flawless explanation!

S: You said we...transform into our inner selves! How are our inner selves magical girls?? We’re boys!

M: Inside every person is a magical girl! Even boys!

S: The hell???

M: Just trust me and touuuuch it already! 

S: Geez okay, okay already!

M: Ready? Ah, Soraru-san, put your whole palm on it, not just a couple of fingers! That’s not enough!!

S: Do you even realize how that...-sigh- Fine.

M: Okay, now we’re transforming!

M: Please feel free to imagine any kind of transformation music that you want during the transition!

S: Like from PM**. 

M: Or from Ma*io!

S: Or even from the Ga*ette. Or One OK Ro*k.

M: Soraru-san, that last one was too obvious! We won’t be able to avoid copyright! This fic wil be taken down!! And then the author will be too lazy to upload it again!!!

S: Since when did this become Gin****?

S: And hey! Don’t we have songs of our own they can use!?

M: Oh, yeah. Good point.

S: In any case, just get on with it already!

M: Okay!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

                                Magical transformation sequence!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mafumafu: By the power of the void, the darkest phase of the moon!

Mafu-oh: I am the lady of darkness and war! Mafuyu, the goddess of the moon at your call!

Mafuyu: ...

Mafuyu: Uwah, even my voice changed! This is so cool! Soraru-san!!

Mafuyu: ..? Soraru-san? 

Soraru-?: ...

Mafuyu: Ah, Soraru-san?! You’re a...prettier girl than I thought you would be! Wow! 

Soraru(?): ....

Mafuyu: Soraru-san? Is something wrong?

Soraru(??): ...ing.

Soraru(??): This is...embarrassing...

Mafuyu: Gasp!

Soraru(idk): ?!

Mafuyu: Even Soraru-san’s voice is cute! In fact it’s too cute! I’m almost creeped out by it!

Creep-aru: H-how cruel, Mafuyu-chan!

Mafuyu: MAFUYU-CHAN?!???? EH

Who are you and what have you done with Soraru: Please don’t make fun of me!

Mafuyu: ??!?!?!?? Soraru-san?

Nani the kuso-ru: Eh?

Mafuyu: Soraru...chan??

The f is happening-ru: What is it, Mafuyu-chan?

Mafuyu: Keigo again!? Also something really weird is happening to your name tags!!

-whistles innocently- Soraru(?): Ah..that. I-If Mafuyu-chan is having a cute name then I’d like a cute name too!

Soraru(?): Please call me Soraruko!  

Aight then, Soraruko: I’m um...i-it’s so embarrassing when I say it out loud!!

Mafuyu: Wh-

Mafuyu: Weird! Too weird!!

Soraruko: Eh?!

A Suddenly Shouting Mafuyu: WhY HAS SORARU-SAN TURNED INTO A TSUNDERE

Soraruko: Ma-Mafuyu-chan!?

Mafuyu: Not even a tsundere!! A Deredere?! Wh-this is too much of an attitude change!

Soraruko: Mafuyu-chan, please calm down! Your chair!! You’re going to fall out of your chair!!!

Mafuyu: Ah! 

-sound of loud objects-

R.I.P nerds.

Soraruko: H-hey! Don’t kill us off just yet!!

Damn.

Soraruko: You don’t want to write this that badly?! Ah!! Mafuyu-chan, are you okay?!

Mafuyu: Ah...is that you, god?

Soraruko: A-aaaaaah, Mafuyu-chan!! It’s too early to go up to heaven!! D-don’t go!

Mafuyu: Ah...are you an angel? Are they welcoming me into hell finally? 

Soraruko: Mafuyu-chan, that’s the wrong place!

Mafuyu: Eh, Soraruko? Wow...your hands are really soft?? 

Soraruko: Eh!?

Mafuyu: It’s kind..of...weird. 

Soraruko: Ma-Mafuyu-chan!

Mafuyu: See, Soraru-san would have immediately called me creepy or pushed me away! What is this?!

Soraruko: ...I-is that so?

Mafuyu: Eh?

Soraruko: I-is that your type after all, Mafuyu-chan?!

Mafuyu: EH 

Soraruko: I-I thought you were joking! Are you really a hardcore M?!

Mafuyu: I’m an S!

Soraruko: That’s the part that you take offence to?!

Mafuyu: Anyway, this is too weird! I’m going to leave and post some updates on twitter, okay?

Soraruko: W-wait, Mafuyu-chan!

-Hurried footsteps and the slam of a door-

Soraruko: Ahh, she left. I can’t do this all alone, Mafuyu-chan...

Soraruko: ....

Soraruko: So that’s her type huh...

Soraruko: If...that’s what it takes then-

You’re going to be an M? You??

Soraruko: Is that really so surprising? 

Well, yes? 

Soraruko: You’re the writer right? You should know exactly what I’m capable of. 

Soraruko: -polite smile-

...

So the april fools’ twist is that you’re a yandere? 

Soraruko: No, it’s this entire pointless fanfiction. 

Good point. 

Soraruko: ...You can end this now. 

Alright, alright, geez. 

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...

well yeah that’s it man 

sorry about this i’ll resume my attempt of quality uploads after this fic so if you’re a new reader i hope the cringe didnt scare you off

...

well they’re all probably gone by the halfway mark eh

so yeah, if you’re still here mad props to you friend

and thanks for reading my poor attempt at humor! 

See ya! :D

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[theogonies]

csssa 2017 creative writing application

so since i’ve been accepted and this seems to be what the Cool Kids™ are doing, i figured i might as well post my app. it’s not exactly my most polished writing, but hey, it is what it is, and apparently it was good enough lmao

just fyi: i cut assignments a, b, and f (the personal statement, memoir, and the optional supplement) because they both contained some information that was extremely personal to me and that I’m not really comfortable posting publicly. i didn’t just forget to write them lmao.

anyway, the rest of my application is under the cut!

(Nina and Jess are sitting across from each other at a kitchen table. Jess is fixated on her cell phone; Nina is stirring her coffee, a gloomy expression on her face.)

Nina: Hey, Jess?

Jess: Hm?

Nina: I’ve been thinking... I might go to visit my parents.

Jess: Okay.

Nina: In Montana.

Jess: I know where they live.

Nina: Aren’t you going to ask me when? For how long?

Jess (glancing up): You’re a big girl, Nina. You don’t need permission.

Nina: …Whatever. Fine.

(After a brief silence, Jess sighs and gives in.)

Jess: Okay. How long?

Nina: I don’t know, Jess.

Jess: Fine. Be like that.

(Nina sighs loudly.)

Jess: God, what is it now?

Nina: I just wish you would actually show me that you cared.

Jess: That sounds like your problem.

Nina: What?

Jess: I’m not your fairy tale princess, Nina. I let you stay in my apartment, I pay for the groceries, I listen to you rant about how goddamn terrible your life is when you’ve never bothered to do the same for me. I don’t know what more you expect.

Nina: You never asked me to listen.

Jess: I shouldn’t have had to.

Nina: ...Maybe I should go back to Montana.

Jess: Maybe you should.

Nina: Jess, please. Just give me a reason to stay. We can make this work.

Jess, quietly: No. I don’t think we can.

(The two stand there for a moment; Nina watches Jess, desperately searching for a sign, but Jess won’t yield. After a few moments, Nina shakes her head, silently turns around, and leaves the room. Jess slumps into her chair despondently, head in her hands.)

assignment d: prose fiction

“I’m sorry,” Nika murmurs.

“Don’t be. It’s not your fault,” I say, eyeing the poster on the wall - an advertisement for the New Reality. Bold lettering on glossy paper reads, State of the art virtual reality technology! New frontiers! Limitless existence!

It doesn’t mention the extortionate price tag, or that once you transition, there’s no going back.

Nika just laughs harshly. My sister thinks any kind words are platitudes.

“Mr. Cohen?” An android interrupts us. “Are you nearly finished?”

“Go ahead,” I say softly.

I’m not ready to say goodbye yet, but this isn’t about me; it hasn’t been since I opened the door to Nika’s apartment and found her curled up on her bed, refusing to talk or make eye contact. Her apartment was a disaster. She hadn’t showered or left the apartment in weeks, and she’d been subsisting off a single box of Cheerios for at least as long.

I knew she had problems, and that they’d only worsened since our parents left. She refused to so much as visit a therapist (“I can get better on my own,” she’d told me, “I just need a little time”). I just hadn’t realized how bad things had gotten.

It was a choice of letting her transition early or having her institutionalized. This way, she’ll get to be with our parents, and the androids will make sure she has the care she needs.

Nika grips my wrist suddenly, dragging my attention back to the present. “Come now,” she begs. “We could all be together again.”

“I’m can’t.” I avoid Nika’s gaze. “But soon. I promise.” The words taste like bile and copper on my lips. Aside from the empty shells of our parents, she’s all I have left. I don’t want her to leave, but it’s not my choice.

Nika knows it’s a lie, but the sedatives are kicking in and she can’t muster up the willpower to argue.

“Ready?” the android asks.

“Yeah,” Nika says. “I’m ready.”

Her voice shakes, but out of excitement, not fear. This is all she’s wanted since the day our parents transitioned. Even if it means leaving me behind, she’s ready for her chance to start over. I can’t blame her.

I don’t tell her that it will be years before we see each other again - if we see each other again. That no matter how much I love my family, I’d rather stand on my own two feet and work with my own two hands than spend the rest of my life in some virtual dream world.

Instead, I kiss her on the forehead. I watch the android slip the goggles over her face and flip the switch attached to her bed.

Nika squeezes my hand one last time before her arm goes limp.

She’s gone.

assignment e: poetry (insp. by six of crows/crooked kingdom)

she’s sitting on the bathroom counter,

her eyes like dark mirrors that you can’t turn away from

and her hair like blue-black storm clouds on the horizon.

she says that she met her shadow today.

she says that she’s being punished for her sins.

she says that she’s scared.

you came here tonight to push her away,

to remind her that she is a goddess and you are a devil.

(if you die tomorrow, you need to know

that she will not weep.)

but she’s sitting on the bathroom counter,

and she’s shaking, and all you can think of is how

she has fought by your side a hundred times

and held your secrets like they were paper birds.

I am a shattered girl, she tells you,

I am only a ghost and I cannot heal for you.

we are shattered, but we are not ghosts, you say,

we are warriors, and our scars make us stronger

but tonight, she doesn’t need a warrior

and she doesn’t need a devil.

she needs you to prove that you can be better,

so step closer and comfort her.

let your skin brush against hers

and pretend that it doesn’t matter.

but it does.

the moment your hand touches her shoulder,

you are no longer in the bathroom with her.

you are back in the canals where you died,

back in the canals where you were reborn.

you are sinking into the green-black murk

and if you do not leave her, you will drown.

you are still broken,

and there are some wounds that love can’t heal.

she is still a goddess,

and a goddess should be worshipped from afar

[braindamageforbeginners]

Reefer Madness

Cycle 5, Day3

Well, you probably could’ve seen this coming, but in a twist that will surprise no one, I’ve recently started experimenting with a dangerous, unproven drug that could have severe long-term medical consequences. And medical marijuana.

With 3 brain tumors, I’ve used a lot of complementary medicine to great effect - like neurofeedback, exercise, diet, etc. Which is not the same thing as “alternative medicine” (it’s the combination of the two). I’d argue that an untested, unproven, potentially-lethal chemotherapy regimen - no matter how-well calculated (now that I think of it, this might be setting an unhealthy bar for trust in relationships - “Do I trust her enough to calculate a dosage and administer a toxin to me?”), probably counts as, at best, “complementary” medicine, particularly since I’m still on the Temodar. I have probably ranted at length in previous posts about how much I hate Temodar. We’ll talk more about that at length here, but first, when I was first admitted to the clinical trial, I asked about all the substances available to lessen the radiation-chemo side-effects. I was told that, for the study drug, they only recommended marijuana or related substances as a last-resort. I shrugged, played by the rules, and forgot about it until Shrink mentioned it as a possible treatment for Temodar.

So, I hate Temodar, partially because of the nausea factor, but more because it causes what is called “chemo brain.” That’s an odd sort of fog of forgetfulness, lack of concentration, inability to multitask, etc. You should be worried about it because 17-75% of all cancer patients complain about it sooner or later (it’s actually most well-documented in breast cancer survivors), and sometimes it’s permanent. With Temodar, it’s awfully hard to tell whether it’s just a toxic substance that’s undoubtedly swirled around in my brain, whether it’s a cumulative sleep-deprivation effect, or whether it’s the fact that, whenever I take Temodar (these are the horse pills you take at home right before bed), I tend to wake up at 2 am with itchy-brain (a unique and weird combination of physical discomfort, anxiety, and nervousness where you have to get up and do something)(I’ve double-checked all my medical contact numbers on my phone, written the first few chapters of a novel, and, more usually, just worried myself). Anyway, I’d kinda just resigned myself to the idea that the first five of each cycle would be near-complete misery (I don’t even drive on those days, that’s how little I trust myself on Temodar) when Shrink recommended medical marijuana for Temodar days. This was eventually okayed by the warlocks, under the following rules: 1. Not on infusion days (those are amazingly unpleasant to be sure, but thanks to zofran, they’re survivable)(I made it 36 hours after an infusion, just to give everyone a little breathing room) - the stated logic here is that they don’t want to make associated hallucinations worse. Which, now that I have them, makes sense, but, at the same time, just saying, “We don’t want to mix an experimental substance with a substance about which there’s not a whole lot of conclusive research” would work fine. 2. No swapping of drugs without explicit wizard-related permission. 3. Do some homework, make an educated purchase, and keep everyone informed of all things in my system at all times (again, this isn’t really a major policy change). Senior Warlock also warned me to be wary, that it’s a largely unregulatd industry, so you’re not exactly certain what you’re getting, and, as a new segment of the health-industrial complex, there’s all kinds of snake-oil salesmen.

Right, so, homework. There’s over a hundred different cannabinoids, with all sorts of various claims. The two with, from what I could tell, the most research on them are THC (that’s one of the fun cannabinoids that makes you hungry and/or enjoy Phish concerts) and CBD (that’s not a “fun” one, but it treats a lot of the symptoms of chemo)(it also counter-acts a lot of of the psychedelic effects of THC). I’d be fine going with an all-CBD product, but there’s some research (not a whole lot, but some) that THC makes chemo more effective for brain cancer (which is good for my long-term prospects, but, I’m not wild at the thought of Temodar eating through my frontal lobe more efficiently. As it turns out, this was almost unneeded, for reasons we’ll see shortly. This should not be read as an endorsement, instruction manual, or scientific study. In other words, don’t read this, try something really dumb, then blame me.

Even though marijuana is technically legal in CA, and medical marijuana’s been legal here since 1972, I wound up going to a dispensary nearer Mother Dearest, both for convenience, and because the place had an established reputation as both a medical and legal dispensary. First observation; it amuses me to imagine that the neighbors - who are all lovely, but very standard, middle-class (I’d hesitate to use the idiom “straight-laced” because it’s ungenerous, but it’s not totally inaccurate) - live literally within 20 miles (as the crow flies) of places where virtually any sin or vice that you can put a price-tag on can be had. I’m not passing judgment (there’s a reason a lot of illegal industries are illegal, and, even when legalized, there’s usually a few other logistical/legal warnings).

Anyway, if you haven’t been to a dispensary, but enjoy weird, unique experiences, I’d go, with the warning that window-shopping is strictly forbidden, and there are (unarmed) guards. The modern, quasi-legal drug dealer offers a lot more to the discerning customer than the past. I quickly abandoned the idea of smoking after seeing a variety of suspicious vaccuum-sealed substances and hearing Senior Warlock’s warning about no unified regulation or enforcement (plus, one of my neighbors is a cop; I didn’t feel that waving the cape in front of the bull was a good idea)(also, the thought of having to roll my own joints seemed ludicrously out of my league). At that point, Mom took over entirely (I’ve noticed she has a tendency to do that - whenever there are minor health decisions to be made or when we’re on unfamiliar turf, she grabs the wheel)(Sorry, Mom). I got asked how I felt about vaping (that Keith Moon and Jimi Hendrix would be sad to think that humanity would couple drug usage to cell phone chargers), and then found myself the proud owner/user of a (possibly) 1:1 THC-CBD pill. Paid for with cash, since the dispensaries are legal, but the federally-regulated banks don’t accept that filthy drug money (where was that moral certainty when they were laundering money for cartels or lying about the value of a mortgage, one asks).

And now we fast forward to last night, when I looked at the label on the bottle; there should be a German word for the moment a person with a health background realizes they forgot to look up recommended dosages.. I decided to start with one pill (that’s 5 mg THC, 5 mg CBD). I down it, then take my other bed-time drugs, then wait a full hour (you have to do this with chemo - mostly, it’s to give the zofran time to dissolve. You literally do not take chemo until you’re about to leap into bed, otherwise you’ll get...uncomfortable.

First of all, let’s look at the communist menace

If it looks like a rather boring pill, I’ve romanticized it. I noticed, in that hour period between taking my non-puke-up-the-chemo, that it had the psychedlic effect of Tums. Anyway, 11 pm rolled around and I went to bed, then I woke up at 3 am. However, instead of sweeping the walkways or researching story ideas, I just kind of lay there for a while. Okay. At 4 am when I started twitching, I grabbed another tab (that’s 10 mg of both) and woke up at 7:45 am. Near-8-hours’ sleep. that’s as good as it gets on Temodar. The bigger shock was realing not only was I hungry (as I usually am when I wake up) but I felt almost normal and not-completely hung-over at all. As far as the grooviness of the pill, I’ve gotten more potent highs  watching Star Wars trailers (unless a sudden ability to snarf down a whole bushel of bananas id exciting. Still, I’d woken up, and my first thought wasn’t “Oh, something’s wrong,” Which automaticallly and dramatically improves any day.

[ickbad-blog]

The internet and you: look what you've become

Gather round kids, it's time for old grampa Ickbad to tell you a story. Back in my college days, long ago in 2012, I had a speech class where we got choose the topic. I was in college for network engineering, and I had the idea that mankind was not mature enough for the internet (a strange topic for someone in I.T., but I'll get to that another day). I made the argument that the internet, while being generally useful and had a lot of good qualities to it, was also leading humanity down a darker road,

I made the aragument that while as a whole, we benefited from the internet, but the individual would suffer from it, and a day would come when the benefits would outweigh the cost and the internet would be detrimental to us. If your wondering I convinced no one and got a C on the project. If only I could go back and show them what the internet today looks like and what it's done to us, I feel like I could make a better case.

I'm going to step back in time some more, just to preface my argument a little and give some background to where I'm coming from (you can skip the next 4 paragraphs if you don't want to hear about my life). I grew up in the 90's, and I lived out in the middle of butt-fuck nowhere. I had a brother and sister that I fought with, and neighbors we were friends with. I remember running through the woods and finding bottle mines (dump grounds from a long time ago, where most of the garbage had broken down aside from glass bottles) and playing n64 inside. Flashlight tag at night and having bonfires in a fire pit out back. A normal childhood in the 90's (at least I think so, normal is subjective)

But my Dad was also in I.T., and because of his job we had a lot of old computers around and the internet. I grew up playing online with friends, downloading demos and free games to try out. But that wasn't the whole of my experience. I did not spend all day online, and was outside more then online. Then, when I was 12, I moved in with my Mom (they divorced the year before) and lost the internet. I spend the next 5 years not being online and got along just fine without it.

I feel like I was both ahead of the internet ad behind the times because of this split. I had the internet at a young age but not the years that most of my peers were online. I feel like this is why I have such a strange relationship with it, and technology in general, but you can form your own ideas, I don't control you.

Anyway, because I learned computers at a young age I was good at them, troubleshooting games and computer problems gave me critical thinking skills, and that's why I went into I.T. in college. But I never had a want to go online. In high school and college, when I did have the internet, I only had a myspace account to play games, and only last year had a personal facebook account. I used to be very active in gaia online, when that was a thing, but it was in it more to play the games that talk with people.

Back to the point, I feel like the internet is now at a point where it the harm it's doing to the individual is greater then the benefit to us as a whole. The collective of human knowledge and interaction available at our fingertips has begun to divide us and has brought a new age of apathy.

Going back to my story, I remember every Thursday my family would all get together and watch Survivor on TV. I remember staying home from school and watching The Price is Right followed by 7th heaven because that was the only thing on TV. I remember rushing to the bathroom or to do something on a commercial break and channel surfing to find something to watch when nothing was on. But now with youtube, netflix, and other on demand streaming services these things have gone away. No longer does watching something mean scheduling that time. We don't need to worry that there is nothing to watch when we can turn on anything we could ever want. We can stop and come back to something whenever we want rather then being constrained to 2 minutes of commercials. But is this strictly a good thing?  

I like those little wafer sugar cookies, and if I could I would do nothing but eat them. However there are consequences to that path as well, and while in the short term I may enjoy them, in the long term it's detrimental to eat only the delicious wafer cookies. I feel that the same logic can apply to media on demand. Now that we can watch whatever we want whenever we want, does the act of watching something feel less special? Growing up I watched Dragon Ball Z, and I remember everyday at school talking with my friends about what happened on the last episode, trying to guess what would happen on the next episode, and filling in who screamed the most to someone if them missed what happened. I feel like these conversations don't happen anymore. Now we only talk about the series as a whole and the excitement of watching once a week, or the heart break of missing an episode isn't there. And if you want to watch every episode of breaking bad in one go, well I don't think a sane person would agree with you but you have that option to stream every episode one after another. And as they come in to scrape you off the couch at the end and rush you to the hospital for any number major health complication resulting from doing nothing but watching breaking bad for 50 hours, you can tell them how great it was. I think I'll have another wafer cookie.

The ability to stream whatever you want also comes with another major issue (at least I think so), creating an echo chamber. Channel surfing wasn't something magical, but there were times when you came across something that you had never seen before, and you would have another show that you wanted to watch and follow. Watching tv when there was nothing directly you wanted to watch meant either looking for something new or giving up and finding something else to do. It would necessitate expanding your views and ideas to find enjoyment, and while I feel like that wasn't a big price to pay to find something new, I'm finding more and more people are unwilling to pay the price, or that there is no way to achieve this. I wish that netflix or hulu or any streaming site would set up a live TV option so when I don't know what I want to watch, I have the ability to surf around to see, and maybe find something new.

And speaking of echo chambers, I want to hit one more topic before I end this pointless rant no one will ever read, Echo chambers in online communities. There was a time where talking about something you wanted meant bring it up in conversation with people and competing with what they wanted to talk about. You may have had different groups of friends that you discussed different topics with (wouldn't bring up what sick fetishes you were into to your office friends), but there was still a diverse topics discussed within a group of people. Now however, there is a chat group or sub-reddit for anything, but trying to bring up a different topic in one of these forms is frowned on. So while there is a group for anything you want to discuss, there is little flow of new ideas outside of that topic in these places. This results in stagnation of someone's views and may even lead to people becoming intolerant to new ideas.

Let me give you an example; racism happens (at least in my point of view) because people are not exposed to different races and thus believe their race is the only good one while needing stereotypes to base their ideas of others. Then when they encounter these races, they have nothing to base their ideas on but these ideas of stereotypes and differences. Now think about this, the current political climate. I'm in the U.S., and the political landscape is a nightmare, and I have a feeling that it has more to do with liberal and conservatives each being in their own echo chambers to the point where stereotypes and misinformation is the only thing we have to judge each other. One side doesn’t trust the other and any notion of working together is all but gone.

Now, I can't blame the dumpster fire that is politics solely on echo chambers, but I do believe it is one of the reasons we are in this mess. I do have one other example of echo chambers gone out of control, and that is tumbler it's self. Without going into to much detail, I believe the current attitude going around tumbler (you know the one snowflake) is because the echo chamber of something that started out noble but was perverted.

Tumbler was a great place for fans and for the LGBT community to find a home. However, because of the echo chamber effects, things went down hill fast. Touching on the fandoms. People started out with fan pages of shows or whatever (I'll use shows for simplicity, but this is true for any fandom),  but then groups sprang up with different ideas about what being a fan meant. Want to portray someone from the show in a different way then exactly how they are, one group may hate the perversion of the character while another will welcome you with open arms. These sub-echo chambers where only specific views of a subject could be related sprang up and further limited the ideas that were exchanged.

On the other end, the LGBT community on tumbler has grown out of control with it's echo chamber, but I feel for a slightly different reason. People would post what they wanted on tumbler, and this gave LGBT people a voice and a chance to talk about themselves. Because LGBT people are in the minority (and yes, we are in the minority), they were different. When someone is different, there are people who want to emulate that to feel special (See black culture in the 90's and early 2000's). However because of the echo chamber effect, other new ideas were not introduced to give variety to the culture and it stagnated. However, people still want to feel different to stand out from the rest, so rather then taking in new ideas, they reinforced their own ideas. Things like gender identity came into the mix and suddenly everyone had to have their own gender to be different. Rather then taking a mix of ideas and becoming someone out of them, they limited themselves to only a handful, and because of that the differences had to be formed within those areas, creating and mutation views and ideas that further lock them into that view.

I didn't write this to be a comprehensive topic on the negatives of the internet, but just to express my feelings on some of the negativity that has come from it. I do believe the internet is the most powerful invention of mankind ever, but the power swings both ways. I'll come back to these topics at a later date and expand my views then, but I've ranted long enough. My final thought is this, the internet benefits society as a whole but negatively on the individual, and eventually the negatives will catch up.

[ickbad-blog]

The internet and you: look what you've become

gather round kids, it's time for old grampa Ickbad to tell you a story. Back in my college days, long ago in 2012, I had a speech class where we got choose the topic. I was in college for network engineering, and I had the idea that mankind was not mature enough for the internet (a strange topic for someone in I.T., but I'll get to that another day). I made the argument that the internet, while being generally useful and had a lot of good qualities to it, was also leading humanity down a darker road,

I made the aragument that while as a whole, we benefited from the internet, but the individual would suffer from it, and a day would come when the benefits would outweigh the cost and the internet would be detrimental to us. If your wondering I convinced no one and got a C on the project. If only I could go back and show them what the internet today looks like and what it's done to us, I feel like I could make a better case.

I'm going to step back in time some more, just to preface my argument a little and give some background to where I'm coming from (you can skip the next 4 paragraphs if you don't want to hear about my life). I grew up in the 90's, and I lived out in the middle of butt-fuck nowhere. I had a brother and sister that I fought with, and neighbors we were friends with. I remember running through the woods and finding bottle mines (dump grounds from a long time ago, where most of the garbage had broken down aside from glass bottles) and playing n64 inside. Flashlight tag at night and having bonfires in a fire pit out back. A normal childhood in the 90's (at least I think so, normal is subjective)

But my Dad was also in I.T., and because of his job we had a lot of old computers around and the internet. I grew up playing online with friends, downloading demos and free games to try out. But that wasn't the whole of my experience. I did not spend all day online, and was outside more then online. Then, when I was 12, I moved in with my Mom (they divorced the year before) and lost the internet. I spend the next 5 years not being online and got along just fine without it.

I feel like I was both ahead of the internet ad behind the times because of this split. I had the internet at a young age but not the years that most of my peers were online. I feel like this is why I have such a strange relationship with it, and technology in general, but you can form your own ideas, I don't control you.

Anyway, because I learned computers at a young age I was good at them, troubleshooting games and computer problems gave me critical thinking skills, and that's why I went into I.T. in college. But I never had a want to go online. In highschool and college, when I did have the internet, I only had a myspace account to play games, and only last year had a personal facebook account. I used to be very active in gaia online, when that was a thing, but it was in it more to play the games that talk with people.

Back to the point, I feel like the internet is now at a point where it the harm it's doing to the individual is greater then the benefit to us as a whole. The collective of human knowledge and interaction available at our fingertips has begun to divide us and has brought a new age of apathy.

Going back to my story, I remember every Thursday my family would all get together and watch Survivor on TV. I remember staying home from school and watching The Price is Right followed by 7th heaven because that was the only thing on TV. I remember rushing to the bathroom or to do something on a commercial break and channel surfing to find something to watch when nothing was on. But now with youtube, netflix, and other on demand streaming services these things have gone away. No longer does watching something mean scheduling that time. We don't need to worry that there is nothing to watch when we can turn on anything we could ever want. We can stop and come back to something whenever we want rather then being constrained to 2 minutes of commercials. But is this strictly a good thing?  

I like those little wafer sugar cookies, and if I could I would do nothing but eat them. However there are consequences to that path as well, and while in the short term I may enjoy them, in the long term it's detrimental to eat only the delicious wafer cookies. I feel that the same logic can apply to media on demand. Now that we can watch whatever we want whenever we want, does the act of watching something feel less special? Growing up I watched Dragon Ball Z, and I remember everyday at school talking with my friends about what happened on the last episode, trying to guess what would happen on the next episode, and filling in who screamed the most to someone if them missed what happened. I feel like these conversations don't happen anymore. Now we only talk about the series as a whole and the excitement of watching once a week, or the heart break of missing an episode isn't there. And if you want to watch every episode of breaking bad in one go, well I don't think a sane person would agree with you but you have that option to stream every episode one after another. And as they come in to scrape you off the couch at the end and rush you to the hospital for any number major health complication resulting from doing nothing but watching breaking bad for 50 hours, you can tell them how great it was. I think I'll have another wafer cookie.

The ability to stream whatever you want also comes with another major issue (at least I think so), creating an echo chamber. Channel surfing wasn't something magical, but there were times when you came across something that you had never seen before, and you would have another show that you wanted to watch and follow. Watching tv when there was nothing directly you wanted to watch meant either looking for something new or giving up and finding something else to do. It would necessitate expanding your views and ideas to find enjoyment, and while I feel like that wasn't a big price to pay to find something new, I'm finding more and more people are unwilling to pay the price, or that there is no way to achieve this. I wish that netflix or hulu or any streaming site would set up a live TV option so when I don't know what I want to watch, I have the ability to surf around to see, and maybe find something new.

And speaking of echo chambers, I want to hit one more topic before I end this pointless rant no one will ever read, Echo chambers in online communities. There was a time where talking about something you wanted meant bring it up in conversation with people and competing with what they wanted to talk about. You may have had different groups of friends that you discussed different topics with (wouldn't bring up what sick fetishes you were into to your office friends), but there was still a diverse topics discussed within a group of people. Now however, there is a chat group or sub-reddit for anything, but trying to bring up a different topic in one of these forms is frowned on. So while there is a group for anything you want to discuss, there is little flow of new ideas outside of that topic in these places. This results in stagnation of someone's views and may even lead to people becoming intolerant to new ideas.

Let me give you an example; racism happens (at least in my point of view) because people are not exposed to different races and thus believe their race is the only good one while needing stereotypes to base their ideas of others. Then when they encounter these races, they have nothing to base their ideas on but these ideas of stereotypes and differences. Now think about this, the current political climate. I'm in the U.S., and the political landscape is a nightmare, and I have a feeling that it has more to do with liberal and conservatives each being in their own echo chambers to the point where stereotypes and misinformation is the only thing we have to judge each other. One side doesn’t trust the other and any notion of working together is all but gone.

Now, I can't blame the dumpster fire that is politics solely on echo chambers, but I do believe it is one of the reasons we are in this mess. I do have one other example of echo chambers gone out of control, and that is tumbler it's self. Without going into to much detail, I believe the current attitude going around tumbler (you know the one snowflake) is because the echo chamber of something that started out noble but was perverted.

Tumbler was a great place for fans and for the LGBT community to find a home. However, because of the echo chamber effects, things went down hill fast. Touching on the fandoms. People started out with fan pages of shows or whatever (I'll use shows for simplicity, but this is true for any fandom),  but then groups sprang up with different ideas about what being a fan meant. Want to portray someone from the show in a different way then exactly how they are, one group may hate the perversion of the character while another will welcome you with open arms. These sub-echo chambers where only specific views of a subject could be related sprang up and further limited the ideas that were exchanged.

On the other end, the LGBT community on tumbler has grown out of control with it's echo chamber, but I feel for a slightly different reason. People would post what they wanted on tumbler, and this gave LGBT people a voice and a chance to talk about themselves. Because LGBT people are in the minority (and yes, we are in the minority), they were different. When someone is different, there are people who want to emulate that to feel special (See black culture in the 90's and early 2000's). However because of the echo chamber effect, other new ideas were not introduced to give variety to the culture and it stagnated. However, people still want to feel different to stand out from the rest, so rather then taking in new ideas, they reinforced their own ideas. Things like gender identity came into the mix and suddenly everyone had to have their own gender to be different. Rather then taking a mix of ideas and becoming someone out of them, they limited themselves to only a handful, and because of that the differences had to be formed within those areas, creating and mutation views and ideas that further lock them into that view.

I didn't write this to be a comprehensive topic on the negatives of the internet, but just to express my feelings on some of the negativity that has come from it. I do believe the internet is the most powerful invention of mankind ever, but the power swings both ways. I'll come back to these topics at a later date and expand my views then, but I've ranted long enough. My final thought is this, the internet benefits society as a whole but negatively on the individual, and eventually the negatives will catch up.