#being absolutely candid that my goal this year is to step out more as an artist

[chromatose-art]

Okay well since no one wants to send me a zodiac challenge I’m going to do one for myself, Cancer. Will be back with the results in a bit.

[din-miller]

We’re Stronger Together

Pairing: Reader + The Bad Batch (Platonic)

Word count: 4.3k

Summary: It was an unspoken rule; you don’t go on solo missions. But when Rex asked you to aid him in taking down a slave ring, you agreed. The Batch takes an issue with that. Especially when you came back smelling strongly of foul men leaving Hunter to struggle with his heightened senses. The only way to fix that is a giant bantha pile.

Warnings: set after S2, tech is alive, harm to children mentioned, slavery mentioned, non-consensual touching mentioned, (none of which are graphic), protective batch, no romance between reader and the batch, platonic cuddling, so much sibling-relationship content, bantha pile > puppy pile, keldable kisses, female reader

You can’t remember the last time you’ve gone on a solo mission or at least a mission where the Batch hadn’t been involved. You had joined them after Order 66 and wherever they went, you went and vice versa.

Inseparable, the lot of you.

Which is why you’re here, chewing your bottom lip nervously as you watch the argument unfold in front of you. Rex said something rational and Hunter glared, then Echo huffed at Hunter’s behaviour but made no move to step in to defend Rex who's three seconds away from throwing his hands up in frustration, “Look boys, I only need her for a couple days, a week max.”

“That’s not happening.”

Honestly, Rex should’ve seen this argument coming and prepared a better speech.

“Yeah, I kinda agree with Sarge. I don’t like it.” Wrecker rubbed the back of his head, looking a tad lost. He’s never been good at picking sides during arguments and you feel bad for him.

“It’s a simple mission, boys. She’ll be in my line of sight at all times.”

“Armed,” All eyes turned to Crosshair, whose head was turned away from them, seemingly unperturbed by the whole situation. When Rex went to speak, Crosshair sneered, “That wasn’t a question.”

“We might consider it once you tell us why you need her.” Echo said, addressing the eldest clone.

“The mission requires more of a…,” Rex trailed off, trying to find the right words that won’t get him shot, “Feminine touch.”

“Absolutely not,” Hunter pushed himself to stand between you and Rex, blocking the older clone’s view of you, “Find someone else.”

“I can do it!” Omega bravely offered, “I can be feminine.”

“No!” Came a chorus of shouts causing Omega to shrink in on herself before Wrecker pulled her into his side with an apology. Hunter ran a tired hand down his face, giving his own apology to the young girl.

“As much as I appreciate your concerns, it’s my decision.” You looked over at Tech for help. Out of all of them, he’ll be the one to back you up.

Tech nodded in your direction, stepping in to join the conversation, “While I don’t particularly agree with one of us being separated, I can see logic in Rex’s thinking-,”

Wreck sent him a look of disbelief, “How?!”

“-If the goal is to distract the target with a certain female attractiveness, I do believe she’s the best candidate for the role.”

“There was never any doubt about that,” Echo stated, “The issue is that we don’t split up. Any of us. Not after Mount Tantiss.”

Omega nodded in agreement, her mouth twisting down at the mention of Mount Tantiss, “Echo’s right. We stick together.”

Tech adjusted his goggles, avoiding eye contact, “As I said, I do not agree with her going with Rex by herself, but we can not stop her from choosing to aid in this mission. The best we can do is offer our support.”

“Thank you Tech. Look, I’ll take my viroblade with me,” You promised them, moving to Rex’s side, “I’ll be fine guys. I was on my own for years before I met you, I know how to handle a few scumbags.”

“You’re not on your own anymore,” Hunter reminded you, before letting out a defeated sigh, “You will be contacting us every chance you get, you’ll report any injuries to Tech or Echo; I don’t care if Rex’s crew has an all-star medic on board, you comm us.”

“Yes, Sarge. Anything else?”

“You’ll take my blade with you, it’s sharper than yours. You will be getting a crash course in disarming bombs with Wrecker before you leave and most importantly; you will be coming home.”

You look down at the kid who’s nodding along to Hunter’s words, a serious look plastered on her face. You feel a twinge of guilt settled in your chest, but from what Rex has told you about the mission you’re not backing down no matter how crestfallen Wrecker looks.

You attempt a reassuring smile, most likely failing as that guilt shows clear as day despite your best shot at playing it cool. You promised nonetheless, “I’ll be back before Wrecker’s able to pronounce ‘worcestershire’.”

“Hey!” Wrecker cried, but a bright smile took over his previous expression and that twinge inside your chest starts to fade away.

Truth be told, a part of you yearns for this mission. To stretch your feet, to use your muscles and brains outside of your normal mundane life on Pabu. To feel useful in a more powerful way. You also understand why your boys’ are so reluctant to let you leave. To do this mission when they’ve all turned Rex down time and time again.

Hunter’s thirst for battle quickly died out when he watched how Omega thrived in her new life. At the peace she is now able to have, away from bloodshed.

Wrecker’s able to use his strength to help the town folk. Lifting crates, furniture, bags of soil and sand. He’s also taken up construction. He’s able to burn energy without bloodshed.

Tech was never one for battle and after Mount Tantiss, he was more than willing to settle on Pabu. To accept Phee’s dinner invitation. Then the key to her place. One day you hope he’ll accept the ring Phee has tucked away. A loving marriage away from bloodshed.

Echo was the one who adjusted the hardest. Whenever Rex required his help on a mission Echo was always on the front line. But one day you watched him emerge from his room, eyes red and swollen. Another sleepless night and you know he’s done with all the bloodshed.

You don’t ask, you don’t have too. You were there, you remember all of it. You remember Echo’s disbelief over your comm as he said he found Tech. You remember running into the room, seeing Tech floating inside a tube, dead bodies scattered across the floor. You remember Echo’s hand laying flat over the glass that separated him from Tech. You remember the bloody handprint left behind when Echo turned to you.

Most of all you remember the scream that rattled the walls around you. You remember how Echo’s mouth parted, Crosshair’s name falling from his lips before he’s racing down the hallway, metal legs creaking at the strain he’s putting on them.

You remember the crying, the begging, that left Crosshair’s mouth, so broken and scared, as Dr. Hemlock held a blade in his hand and Omega’s still body on the medical table beneath him. You remember the smell of blood, how the red of it dripped onto the floor.

You remember the sound of a blaster fire, a body hitting the floor. You remember Echo desperately trying to hold Omega’s stomach together as he cauterised her skin knowing there’s no time for stitches or bacta patches.

You remember it all so kriffing vividly that the crate you had been moving falls from your grip, dropping loudly to the ships metal floor beneath you, the noise drowning out your gasp as the air around you thins and your lungs ache for steady breaths.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

Your head snapped up in Rex’s direction, eyes widening when you spotted the clone trying to bypass Rex and enter the ship, “Crosshair?”

The sniper doesn’t acknowledge you. Instead his attention is solely on the older clone, “You’re sending her into a cantina full of powerful, greedy, vile men who would do anything to have her.”

Rex sighed, “Crosshair-,”

“I understand not wanting the others to be involved, they’re too protective. The second anyone touches her the mission would be ruined and dead bodies make things complicated.”

Rex gave another, deeper sigh, “Your skill sets would prove to be a huge asset to the mission, I’m aware and if I thought you were any different from the rest of them, I would have asked you. I know you Crosshair, you’d be the first to pull the trigger.”

Finally Crosshair’s eyes land in your direction, the subtle pinch of his brow letting you know that the panic that's choking you from the inside is written all over your face. He stared at you, knowingly, “Don’t do this. For your own sake, don’t.”

“The man we’re after is a slave trader. Young kids and helpless women,” You said, although you figured he’s aware of that already, “If you were in my shoes you’d do the same thing. For me, for Omega. Crosshair I need to do this.”

You moved to stand in front of him and you pulled his head down until your foreheads met, an action you’ve only done once before with him. Only this time he’s leaning in instead of pushing you away with a threat of you meeting the barrel of his rifle.

“Take care of the boys and Omega while I’m gone, yeah?”

“I’m not their kriffing babysitter.”

You chuckled and pulled back to meet his gaze, “Take care of yourself too.”

Although the mission only took three days, your body – your soul – is screaming for your family. For their arms around you, their voices reassuring you that you’re okay, that you’re home. That you’re safe.

So when the front door is the only thing that stands between you and them, a weight is lifted from your shoulders. A breath you hadn’t realised you’ve been holding leaves your lungs and you draw in a new one full of relief.

You punched in the house’s code and the green light blinked, lock unlocking. You smiled, opening the door and before you’re fully able to close it behind you, you’re being pushed back against it, Hunter’s face buried in the crook of your neck.

Not exactly the welcome home you’d imagined would be awaiting you.

You looked over at the other boys, hoping to get an explanation. You start with Echo but the clone just leaned back against the couch, a smile on his face. Beside him is Tech; the clone brought a finger up to tap the side of his nose.

Oh

Right. You probably reek of–

“Testosterone.” Hunter snarled, and you can feel the way his nose scrunched up at the smell of male hormones on your person.

“Not the welcoming home I expected,” You joked, trying to push Hunter away but the clone didn’t budge, “Come on I can’t smell that badly, I had a shower on Rex’s ship. Seriously Hunter, at least let me enter the house.”

Hunter finally pulled back, eyes still locked in on the flesh on your neck. You try not to squirm under the intensity of his gaze, or the smug looks from the others. Hunter tilted your head and you're quick to give him access to the other side of your neck despite your earlier protest. He spared no time diving in, head jerking back instantly, nostrils flailing and he growled, “They touched you.”

The smug look on Echo’s face disappeared instantly and he stepped forward, eyes narrowed in on the back of Hunter’s head like he can see the skin where you had been touched through the clone’s skull.

Hunter pressed you back farther against the door, voice demanding as he asked, “Where else?”

“Hunter-,“

“I won’t ask again.”

The sound of tiny feet racing down the hallway saved you from having to answer, from having to admit that they were right. That you weren’t strong enough for the mission. Not without them. Admitting that would make the phantom feeling of hands on your body too real.

You pushed Hunter away and caught the girl just in time, your name falling from her lips as giggles filled the air when you tickled her side. Behind her Wrecker smiled at you, welcoming you home.

“You’re back! I want to hear all about the mission!” Omega said, jumping out of your arms when you tap on her back. She’s grown so much in the last few years and you’re too exhausted to hold her weight, “Sorry, I’m just excited you’re back home. Are you hurt?”

You’re able to give her a quick shake of your head before that phantom touch across your skin is back and you can’t hide the rise of goosebumps on your arms. Not from Hunter at least. The man studies your body language, breathing in the scent of foul men that lingers on your skin, even after using Rex’s refresher to shower.

“Omega, I want every blanket and pillow in this house brought out here,” Hunter turned to address the biggest clone, “Wrecker, clear all the furniture out of the living room.”

“Oh, you betcha!” Wrecker cheered with a grin, “We haven’t had a good ol’ bantha pile in ages!”

“Bantha pile?” You questioned as you watched the two follow Hunter’s orders.

“Yes, it is when a group of people all sleep and/or cuddle together. It was a way for Hunter to memorise our scents growing up. To help calm him,” Tech informed you, “It’s been awhile since we’ve had one, but given that Hunter is indeed struggling with you not smelling like us, the bantha pile is warranted. I’d even say necessary.”

You nodded. It makes a certain amount of sense but you’re not entirely sure it is warranted. To your knowledge they didn’t do this when Crosshair came back, when Tech was found or when Omega healed from her injuries at the hands of Dr. Hemlock. Or maybe they did and you weren’t there, that they didn’t find it necessary to include you.

No, it’s best not to go down that path. You’re here, your boys are crowded around you as you all await for Omega to return and that’s all that matters.

But Tech has always been able to read you and he awkwardly bumped his shoulder against yours, voice hushed, “You’re part of our alitt. You and Echo were dealing with Sid when Hunter and Wrecker welcomed Crosshair, Omega and myself home. We tried waiting for you but Hunter was struggling. It wasn’t an easy call but it was necessary to proceed without you and Echo.”

You brushed a hand over Tech’s and sent him a smile, “I understand, truly. I shouldn’t have questioned my place with you guys.”

“We won’t allow that to happen ever again, ner vod.” He promised and you believe him.

“I got everything!” Omega announced, bouncing back into the room, her voice muffled behind the mountain of fabric balanced in her arms, which Hunter quickly relieved her of. The young clone looked over at Echo, “I got your heated blanket too. I wasn’t sure if our body heat will be enough to keep you warm through the night. Better safe than sorry, right?”

“I…” Echo blinked, accepting his blanket as he fumbled for words. No matter how long you all have known Omega, the smaller clone always finds ways of surprising her family with her never-ending kindness. Echo cleared his throat, “Thank you, Omega.”

She beamed up at him, brushing off his thanks as she grabbed a handful of pillows to scatter around the living room. Wrecker and Hunter followed behind her with blankets. Eventually the room was approved for a bantha pile by Wrecker’s standards and six bodies started to settle in for the night.

With Hunter against your left side, head buried in your neck, his lips gazing the skin over your pulse point and Wrecker snuggled behind him, Echo moved to claim his spot on your other side as Tech sat cross legged by your lower right leg and Omega’s balanced on your chest leaving just Crosshair left to pick his spot.

“There’s still room.” You pointed out to him, silently hoping he’ll join.

Crosshair looked down at the pile, disgust written all over his face, “Not happening.”

“C’mon brother,” Wrecker patted the empty spot behind him, “You know you want to.”

The sniper may be rough around the edges but he’s not immune to his brothers’ pleas. He’ll cave, you know so.

“Not in the slightest. I’d rather eat glass than be sandwiched between you all.”

“Fine, but you’ll regret it.” Wrecker shrugged, snuggling closer into Hunter’s side, his large arm thrown over the smaller body to rest on your arm.

Crosshair rolled his eyes, “Doubt it.”

Tech glanced up from his datapad, “I have informed Phee that I will be staying another night here,” He looked at you, “She is pleased that you have returned unharmed and has invited you for dinner tomorrow if that is to your liking.”

“Tell her there’s no other place I’d rather be.”

He nodded, “I will inform her immediately, she will be happy to hear so.”

Omega frowned, rifling through the blankets, “Where’s Lula?”

Wrecker’s head shot up, alarmed and you glanced around until you spotted her by the hallway entrance. You pointed Omega to the toy, “You must have dropped her.”

Omega looked over at her brother, eyes wide and childlike, “Crosshair? Can you get her?”

The clone looked at her, then the pile of blankets and pillows that were basically drowning her small frame, before blowing out an annoyed sigh, but he went and got the toy anyway. He carelessly threw it in her direction, which earned a cry of protest from Wrecker. Crosshair rolled his eyes in response before crouching down beside Echo, moving his blanket aside.

The former ARC Trooper’s body stiffened when a pair of hands met his pelvic. Then he flinched away from Crosshair’s touch when the clones fingers found the clasps of his prosthetic legs. You watched slightly puzzled at what was happening.

Crosshair’s fingers froze for a fleeting second before he scowled down at Echo, “Relax Reg, if I have to suffer sleeping here tonight I’m at least going to make sure my nuts stay intact.”

A puff of air met your skin as Hunter grunted, “Language Crosshair, the kids here.”

Omega giggled as she settled comfortably on your chest, “I’m not a kid, Hunter.”

Beside you, Echo flicked his youngest brother’s arm, “I don’t move in my sleep.”

Wrecker let out an loud laugh, “Ha, good one Echo!”

“You could sleep on the other side of the bantha pile,” Echo cocked his head over to where Wrecker is, “Snuggle up behind Wrecker. He doesn’t sweat that much.”

“I’d rather not. Now are you going to let me continue?” Crosshair gestured to the prosthetics.

Echo nodded, moving to make it easier for his brother to reach the clasps, “You better not steal my blanket throughout the night.”

“What are you going to do? Chase me?” Crosshair jeered, but his tone held no malice behind it and Echo for his part just playfully shoved the sniper back until his ass met the floor. Beside you Hunter mumbled something incomprehensible into the crook of your neck while Wrecker and Omega laughed as Crosshair scowled up at them.

Once the prosthetics were removed, Crosshair huddled underneath Echo’s heated blanket with him, keeping enough distance from the clone for it not to be weird. Crosshair’s words, not Echo’s. The latter couldn’t care less, especially when the added warmth helped him sleep soundly.

With them both settled in for the night Tech was able to finally curl himself against your thigh, directly underneath Echo, giving the fact that without the clone’s prosthetics there’s now room for Tech to lie down and be close to you.

“This is… nice.” You said, pulling Echo in closer to your body when he struggled to do so himself without use of his prosthetic legs. His prosthetic arm had been taken off too. Most likely so you don’t get hit by it.

“Aw, yeah it is!” Wrecker’s usual loudness is muffled by Hunter’s shirt and the older clone chuckled at the rough vibration that spread across his back.

Omega propped herself up to rest her head in her hands, her elbows pressing against your chest and you hid the wince when her pointed appendages dug into your sternum.

Her eyes twinkled as they met yours, “We’ve missed you,” She exclaimed, the twinkle in her eyes grew brighter, “Tech barely left the house, Phee brought over food for us but we ended up giving it to the shelter ‘cause Echo went bananas and made enough food for the entire village! And Wrecker built a giant shed in a day! The Unstoppable Machine they called him. Oh and Crosshair slept at the gun range every night. Echo had to bring him food and a pillow and blanket-,”

You blew out a disappointed sigh. Leave it to Crosshair to do the exact opposite of what you said. Taking care of yourself does not equal three nights at the gun range. Crosshair hid his head in Echo’s shoulder shielding himself away from your scowl.

“Hunter wouldn’t leave my side,” Omega continued, “I wasn’t even allowed to sleep over at the Hazards. It’s okay though. Truthfully, I didn’t feel like sleeping away from home anyways.”

You swallowed around the lump in your throat. You knew they didn’t want you to go but you never really knew how much pain you’re absent brought the six of them.

“I’m so sorry,” You whispered into the silence of the room, “I’m here now and I’m not leaving ever again, I promise.”

Omega held out her hand, little finger up, “Pinky promise?”

You locked your smallest finger around hers and brought them both up to your lips, pressing a delicate kiss to her skin, “To the brightest stars and back.”

Omega was the first to fall asleep, followed quickly by Echo; the warmth of his blanket and your body heat lulled him into a peaceful slumber. Wrecker was next, his snores unnaturally quiet for a man his size. Small blessings, truly.

Tech’s head is pillowed on your thigh, his datapad loosely held in his hand, conversation with Phee most likely cut short by his sleep. Out of all your boys your heart is warmed by him the most. He’s the only one who doesn’t live here, he’s the only one who has spent four nights away from their partner. He’s never once complained about it and you know neither has Phee; she’d let Tech spend a thousand more nights here if that’s what he needs.

Crosshair and Hunter were the last to drift off, their bodies on high alert, tracking any movement that could possibly take you away from them. Crosshair once said that nothing is ever too good to be true, but like most things the sniper’s believed, he’s wrong. Because you’re here for good, and that’s true.

You felt a nudge against your right side and you rolled your eyes fully expecting to get an ear full of Tech’s latest discoveries during your absence but instead you're met with an unreadable expression as Crosshair stared at you.

He doesn’t say anything and he looks more pissed off than before. It’s late and you're tired, physically and emotionally and the last thing you want is an angry clone glaring at you through the night.

“This wasn’t my idea,” You reminded him, tone a little rougher than it probably should be, “But I’m not going to have you ruin it because I need this. I might have only been gone for three days but I was alone for each one and you were here, with the boys’ and Omega.”

He’s silent, eyes sharp almost like he’s studying you. When he does speak it sounds like it’s through gritted teeth, “Where else?”

And, oh

You had been expecting that question from Hunter, maybe even Echo, but not him.

You sighed and let your head fall back against your pillow. Whenever the gentleman got too bold, you were able to direct their attention somewhere other than your body… but sometimes you just weren’t fast enough.

“You were right, the others wouldn’t have been able to sit and watch,” You shifted your eyes back to the sniper, “The man grabbed me, pulled me into his lap and sometimes when I close my eyes, I can feel his breath against my skin and I hate it.”

The arms locked around you tighten, Hunter's head unburing itself from your neck, his breathing falling to the softest puffs against your skin. You honestly should have known that he wouldn’t fully be asleep.

You sighed, pulling Omega closer to your chest, needing to feel her heartbeat, letting it ground you, “Rex was immediately lifting me off of him and using his body as a shield, keeping me out of the man’s sight. What was supposed to be a stealth mission turned into a full blown blaster fight. What was it you said Crosshair? ‘Dead bodies make things complicated’?”

“Sometimes complicated is necessary for survival,” Crosshair said, “It may have not gone down the way you wanted it to, but tonight there are people finding their freedom from slavery and that’s because there are good people out there willing to fight for them. People like you.”

Your throat constricted at his words and you felt the beginning of tears build up, you do your best to blink them away before they get a chance to escape.

“You’re not leaving us again, right?” Hunter’s voice was rough, and it was clear from the way he asked the question that there was only one acceptable answer.

“No, never again,” You replied, before asking your own question, “Do I smell better now?”

Hunter made a show of taking in a deep breath, pausing for a second before giving a slow nod, “You smell like my aftershave, Echo’s mechanical oil for his prosthetics, Omega’s shampoo, Phee’s perfume that lingers on Tech’s clothes and the chemical ingredients in Tech’s eye drops.”

“Wrecker and Crosshair?”

“By the morning you’ll smell like them too. I promise.”

“Good, but in case I don’t; I’m not doing anything tomorrow night.”

Crosshair pressed his front flushed against Echo’s back and threw his arm over his brother's body to rest on top of Omega’s back, “If we must, I'm making Wrecker bring the mattresses down here. I’m getting too old for this shit.”

You laced your fingers with his across Omega’s body, “Deal.”

A/N: I’ve had one rule when it comes to tbb. I don’t write for Crosshair – He’s a hard character to write – So how the heck did I manage to include him in 80% of this fic?! I’m not sure I was able to capture his personality completely but I hope I did him justice. (runs and hides)

[devilsupdates]

I just saw this

Taking a Look at Potential Devils Head Coaching Candidates

TSN’s Pierre LeBrun mentioned some potential candidates for the Devils head coaching job, so let’s take a look at them.

By Jared W Moore Apr 3, 2024, 11:00am EDT

Two weeks ago, I wrote about what qualities the New Jersey Devils should look for from their next head coach. I didn’t really talk so much about systems or anything like that, other than I wanted somebody known for more defensive structure than the previous regime. I also talked about accountability and how there needs to be a lot more of that moving forward regardless of who the coach winds up being. If you haven’t read that, I’d suggest going back and taking a look at it as I’ll reference some key points from that article throughout this one.

Last week, TSN’s Pierre LeBrun mentioned during their “Insider Trading” segment that current interim coach Travis Green is a serious candidate for the job. In case the video doesn’t open for you (TSN can be weird sometimes with content being blocked geographically), here’s the quote of what LeBrun actually said in regards to Green and the Devils vacancy.

“My sense from talking to the Devils is that Travis Green is a serious candidate, absolutely. They love what he’s done since taking over for Lindy Ruff, the Devils feel they’re a different team, they play differently. But GM Tom Fitzgerald will probably still look at some other candidates just to have a thorough process here in terms of naming a head coach at the end of the year. So bigger names....perhaps, like (Craig) Berube, (Todd) McLellan, Gerard Gallant who hasn’t coached all year.....those are all possibilities but yes, Travis Green is very much a possibility.”

LeBrun is as credible an insider as there is and he clearly has connections within the Devils organization. His recent on-the-record conversations with Tom Fitzgerald and Martin Brodeur are proof of that. While circumstances can change and lists can change (Lindy Ruff wasn’t exactly the first choice the last time the Devils conducted an extensive head coaching search), LeBrun isn’t the type of insider who will throw anything at the wall just to see what sticks. I’m sure he didn’t just float the names of Craig Berube, Todd McLellan, and Gerard Gallant out there for no reason and on a whim if he didn’t hear from someone (Fitzgerald, Brodeur, agents, the coaches themselves) that they have some level of interest in the job. I also think if you have your sights set on a bigger name like Mike Sullivan, keep in mind that he already has an NHL head coaching job. I’ll be the first person to admit that this list is kind of uninspiring, but I don’t think its anything more than a few names LeBrun heard and that the Devils will do due diligence. I say all that to say that I wouldn’t look at the names LeBrun mentioned as a final list. Circumstances can change.

That said, that didn’t stop people from reacting to the list. Something that I was guilty of as well.

Devils candidates mentioned by LeBrun, ranked.

1. Berube

2. Gallant

3. McLellan

4. Getting hit by a bus

5. Green

After having a few days to take a step back and think more about it, I thought it would be a smart idea to take a look at each individual candidate, try to figure out why the Devils might be interested in them, and whether or not they’re the right fit.

Let’s start with the interim bench boss, Travis Green.

Travis Green

The best argument for Green getting the permanent gig might be the same argument for Principal Skinner getting his job back after Ned Flanders was fired as school principal.....he seems to know the kid’s names.

The Devils might indeed be playing differently under Green, but it’s fair to question whether or not they’re playing well, despite a 6-8-0 record since taking over.

On the season, the Devils are giving up 3.39 goals per game and are averaging just over 30 shots on goal allowed per game. In a small sample size since Green took over, they’re giving up 2.92 goals per game, however, I think that can be more closely tied to improved goaltending by Jake Allen (.923 since the trade) and Kaapo Kahkonen (.934) over what the Devils were getting the majority of the season. And while purely counting shot totals doesn’t tell the entire story of how the Devils are playing defensively, they’re giving up more shots on goal with Green on board than before (31.7 shots on goal per game). It might be true that players such as Luke Hughes have cleared the rookie wall, but this is also still a team that regularly plays Brendan Smith for some reason, so take all of this talk about defensive improvements with a grain of salt.

The Devils are also not doing so hot with the expected goals since the Ruff firing. And while I’m always the first person to point out that real goals mean far more than expected goals, it further supports the idea aren’t really playing all that well now, they’re just getting better goaltending than before.

It’s probably not fair to Green to expect him to dump Lindy Ruff’s system overnight, implement his own, and get the team to execute it when they’ve had little to no practice time and no full training camp. The Devils have played games in 14 of the 30 days since Ruff has been fired, after all. But we’ve also seen very little to suggest they’d have more structure defensively or maintain what they’ve been doing offensively. In fairness to Green, the power play has ticked up a bit since he took over. Whether that has more to do with Timo Meier taking over Tyler Toffoli’s spot on the top unit, and whether or not we should ignore that the PP was stagnant for a long stretch under Green’s coaching....I’ll leave that up to you to judge.

For what its worth, I don’t believe Green is a serious candidate to be the Devils next coach. Or at least, I hope he isn’t. John expressed his concerns with the power play back when Green was hired and I think a lot of what he wrote at that time has indeed come to fruition. Chris wrote the other day about how Green has overseen too many lifeless efforts to get serious consideration, including Friday’s loss in Buffalo, and it goes noted that a team that is supposedly still alive for a playoff spot somehow plays as uninspired, lifeless hockey that this Devils team plays.

Green does have some championship pedigree in his background with a championship at the WHL level with the Portland Winterhawks and a Calder Cup Final appearance with the Utica Comets in 2014-15, but its fair to be underwhelmed with his previous NHL head coaching run in Vancouver, as well as his tenure thus far as the interim Devils coach. I can see why Fitzgerald might want to give Green an interview as a professional courtesy, but I feel like hiring Green would be ‘settling’ and the Devils would be doing it because he’s there. The only way promoting Green makes sense is if they can’t get their preferred choice and they choose to wait until a better candidate becomes available sometime next season. Either way, the Devils should aim higher than settling for Travis Green.

Todd McLellan

McLellan brings plenty of experience to the table, as he has well over 1100 NHL games as a head coach and 9 playoff appearances on his resume. He is best known for his run with the San Jose Sharks, becoming the winningest coach in franchise history and helping the Sharks reach a pair of conference finals. McLellan landed on his feet after parting ways with the Sharks, getting the head coaching job in Edmonton, but he was fired early in his fourth season in Alberta. He took over in Los Angeles prior to the 2019-20 season and helped lead the rebuilding Kings to a pair of first round playoff exits, but was once again dismissed earlier this season.

McLellan is known for a defense-first system and clogging up the neutral zone with a 1-3-1 alignment. It’s not the most visually pleasing version of hockey to watch, and I think questions whether or not the Devils have the personnel to play that manner is fair, but McLellan has had enough success in this league to where he’s going to do things his way and want to bring this structure to his next head coaching job. I’m also old enough to remember the Devils being very successful playing a brand of hockey that could be described as somewhere between grinding, efficient, and boring.

I don’t necessarily hold it against McLellan that he got fired from his last two NHL head coach jobs (and ‘mutually parted ways’ in the third).....coaches are hired to be fired, after all. I also don’t necessarily hold it against McLellan that Cam Talbot was brutal for a six-week stretch around the time of McLellan’s firing because that’s the risk you run counting on a journeyman netminder in Cam Talbot in the first place. I also don’t hold it against McLellan that the Kings appear to lack the top-end talent a team needs to get past the Edmonton Oilers, something they have failed to do the last two seasons in the playoffs. Never mind being able to beat more complete teams like Colorado or Vegas in a Best-of-Seven series. And it should be noted that it appears the coaching change will work as the Kings have stabilized, Talbot has stabilized, and appear to be heading back to the postseason. Unlike Tom Fitzgerald, Rob Blake knew when to make the coaching change and will reap the rewards for doing so.

I do question whether or not McLellan will be able to get that level of buy-in and commitment defensively if the Devils were to hire him, as he has had issues getting that from players like Pierre-Luc Dubois and Kevin Fiala. Granted, Dubois has his own history of playing his way out of favor in markets he doesn’t want to be in and Fiala won’t be confused with Mark Stone defensively, but the Devils have their share of forwards who make cursory efforts in a 200-foot game. I question whether or not the Devils have the wingers who are capable of winning on the boards and being able to retrieve pucks. But thinking more about it, I do think with some tweaks on the roster that need to happen anyways, McLellan could be an interesting hire.

Gerard Gallant

Gallant, who as far as we know is the only repeat name from Tom Fitzgerald’s previous coaching search, is back in the mix, and understandably so. His body of work at his three most recent head coaching jobs in Florida, Vegas, and New York speak for itself as he has consistently gotten his teams to the postseason. Gallant is a former IIHF World Championship gold medalist as a coach, a former QMJHL League champion, a former Memorial Cup champion, and a Jack Adams winner. He also was the coach who led the Golden Knights to the Stanley Cup Final in their inaugural season, where they ultimately lost to the Washington Capitals in five games. Gallant has been known for being a players coach, to where he’d allow the skill players to play to their strengths and hold themselves accountable. That all sounds well and good, but when the opposition adjusts, Gallant’s teams in the playoffs have often been left having no answers. Lindy Ruff outcoached Gallant in last year’s playoffs, so turning around and replacing Ruff with Gallant would be a curious choice. Gallant has also been criticized for not doing a whole lot to develop young talent, and it’s probably not a coincidence that former #1 overall pick Alexis Lafreniere had a breakout season the second he left. In fairness to Gallant, his job is to coach the hockey team first and foremost win games, not necessarily try to squeeze blood from a stone in hoping that Kaapo Kakko is better than he actually is. Considering the Devils still have some young talent that needs developing in Luke Hughes, Simon Nemec, and eventually, Seamus Casey and/or whoever the Devils first round pick is, I think its fair to question whether you want Gallant involved. I said previously that I think the Devils team needs a kick in the pants and I don’t know that Gallant’s “let the players police the room” approach is the direction I’d go in when that clearly hasn’t worked this year under a different player’s coach in Lindy Ruff. Add in the fact that Gallant typically has a short shelf-life....shorter than he should considering his track record of success and that would suggest to me there’s something going on behind the scenes we’re not quite privy to. I don’t know if his hands off approach tends to lead to him losing the room or if he’s just a miserable jerk behind closed doors, but I feel like Gallant would be better suited with a more veteran team where the standard is understood. I think the Devils are still in the process of figuring out what that standard actually is. Just because I write on this blog that the Devils need to have the mindset that “this can never happen again” doesn’t necessarily mean the players will show up to camp next September with that mindset.

Craig Berube

The most interesting name on this list to me is Craig Berube. Berube coached two seasons in Philadelphia and made the playoffs once before famously resurfacing in St. Louis. After serving as an assistant coach on Mike Yeo’s staff, Berube took over for the fired Yeo and the Blues went from worst to first, ultimately winning the franchise’s only Stanley Cup in 2019. Berube followed that up with three more playoff appearances, but the Blues struggled to replicate Jordan Binnington’s brilliance in net as well as replace what Alex Pietrangelo brought to their blueline. St. Louis missed the playoffs last season and they fired Berube 28 games into this season when it became apparent things weren’t going to turn around.

What ultimately did Berube in in St. Louis was poor defense and goaltending, as their defensive zone play was not good. That said, I think a lot of these issues are more on roster construction than they are on the coach himself. Torey Krug was a desperation signing after Pietrangelo left for Vegas a few summers ago that hasn’t worked out. Colton Parayko has not been good for some time now. Their CapFriendly is littered with unmovable contracts and NTCs. Players like Ryan O’Reilly who play a good two-way game ultimately left. And while Binnington is having a good year this year, the 6x6M contract that he signed a few years ago has been a mixed bag. Some good like a .912 this year, some bad like a .894 over 61 games last year. Most of this probably isn’t Berube’s fault.

That said, I think Berube was instrumental for helping the Blues become Stanley Cup champions. They got the right level of buy-in at the right time. They played as a team and played a physical brand of hockey. Berube did play 1000+ NHL games as an enforcer, after all. Instead of letting the players hold themselves accountable, he holds them accountable (which might be part of the reason why Jordan Kyrou wasn’t too sad to see him leave). That type of hard-nosed style may have a shorter shelf-life than most coaches, but it can be very effective.

Berube would need to do a better job of having all five skaters engaged defensively than Ruff did, as that was ultimately one of the things that did both coaches in in their respective cities, but I think Berube’s approach would be what the Devils need at this time.

Final Thoughts

Upon further review, I’d probably rank Berube and McLellan as my top choices from LeBrun’s list, followed by Gallant and then getting hit by a bus. And then Travis Green. Again, its not exactly an awe-inspiring list, but its still early in the process, coaches who may ultimately become available such as Mike Sullivan haven’t become available yet, and there might wind up being another interesting name linked to this opening that we haven’t heard yet.

The pressure is on for Fitzgerald to get this hire right. Odds are if he doesn’t, he won’t get to stick around long enough to make a third coaching hire.

What do you all think?

[baronfulmen]

since you made that post, i hope it's okay to ask for info? i'm impacted by US politics but don't know that much about them

i completely agree with you about voting being a must (i'm personally a palestinian with an isr*eli ID, so even though i do not want to legitimize their govt by playing at voting, i do it each and every election to try and curb the fascism... pretty unsuccessfully i would say, but i think of all the people who cant even vote in this 'democracy' and i cast my one vote)

and i saw a post explaining how in the US system, voting for a third candidate is basically throwing your vote in the garbage (very perplexing and vexing), but HOW, out of 300 MILLION people, the only two options are 'genocider' or 'dictator'. that's, as someone put it, the illusion of choice, like a choice between eating dogshit or horseshit. sorry for the language.

i've known Biden's anti-palestine stance for YEARS, and i still posted a lot encouraging people to vote for him, and i know that this genocide under trump wouldn't have been any better for anyone, but what kind of message would it be for him to get re-elected immediately after unquestionably funding and fully supporting this horrific phase of my people's ethnic cleansing.

so if it's not naive to ask: isn't there A N Y other option? idk forcing him to step down (since he refuses to keel over already), another democratic candidate, some form of litigation, or direct action, or anything??? do americans really have so little choice that they have to basically do election charades?

sorry for the long ask, i guess i am not immune to the USA's ''''freedom'''' propaganda

Most of it comes down to it being a two party system. First of all, just to be clear, it is always POSSIBLE for our parties to change. This can happen over time with shifts in priorities and ideologies, or (way less likely but theoretically possible) by having another party show up and take the place of one of the current ones.

But to become president you need a majority of votes from the electoral college and we don't have ranked voting (which would go a long way towards fixing some stuff) so that's always going to result in two big entrenched parties. Those parties then have a primary goal of remaining in power, since if they don't they can't accomplish anything else - plus because we have no effective restrictions on how money influences politics the politicians are basically ALWAYS campaigning for their next election rather than actually focusing on doing anything good (and they're getting the money primarily from corporate interests).

On the local level you can get some good people in there, and you can even get third party or independent candidates elected. And that's one way to change things, start really pushing at the local level and pack the government with politicians that are closer to the ones you really want to see. This happened (but in the worst way) with the Republicans, really getting big with the Tea Party movement which flooded the government with absolute nutjobs. It worked so well they doubled down, which is why we now have people like Marjorie Taylor Greene or Lauren Boebert or Donald Trump.

This same thing could be done but in a GOOD way, but much like Trump didn't get elected in a vacuum we would need to get the right people into Congress first. Short of that? Biden is bad, but in the same way all presidents are bad. He's not doing anything that his party doesn't approve of, so there's no reason for the Democrats to try and oust him AND no benefit if they did since he'd be replaced by someone that's functionally the same.

So, yeah. The presidential election really is just about voting for the lesser evil, and really people need to get WAY more involved locally.

That's all applicable to stuff in general, but when it comes to Israel specifically there's some other complicated shit going on that I'm not really qualified to speak on but which doesn't actually hinge on genuine support or non-support for Israel or Palestine at all, and is actually related to some Christian doomsday shit which I know sounds like a conspiracy theory but... well... we have some very influential people in this country that are eagerly looking forward to the Second Coming and judgement day and this has had a VERY real impact on our foreign policies. Just look up our current Speaker of the House, Mike Johnson.

I hope this answers some of your questions.

[ledenews]

Sheriff Helms Announces He’ll Seek Second Term in Marshall County

Marshall County Sheriff Bill Helms will run for re-election in 2024 so he can continue preparing the department for future challenges. Not only has Helms concentrated on fighting crime in Marshall County during the first three years in the position, but the sheriff has worked with the county’s commissioners to increase the annual compensation for deputy sheriffs. He announced last week that the Marshall County Commission has granted his request to increase the salaries from $52,000 to $56,000, plus full benefits and pensions for those who serve the county for 20 years or more. “I cannot say enough good about our three Marshall County commissioners. They have recognized the need for well trained, well-equipped, and well-paid law enforcement for the people of Marshall County, and they do what is within their power to make sure that’s what we have,” Helms said. “They step up every time. “Equipment-wise, we lack for nothing at the sheriff’s office and that’s because those three gentlemen want our residents to be as safe as possible,” he said. “We are a very rural county with just a few municipalities in it with police departments that do what they can do. But it’s also not unusual for those departments to reach out to us for help, and when they do, we are there with everything we have at our disposal to help as much as possible.” Helms followed Kevin Cecil and current county commissioner John Gruzinskas in the sheriff’s position, both of whom served two terms before retiring. Following a number of retirements, Helms was faced with seven deputy openings but has worked hard to fill those slots. The latest civil service exam, in fact, has supplied enough qualified candidates to accomplish his goal. “My record absolutely speaks for itself and because of everything our department has worked on so hard for the past three years, I’d decided I want to keep going,” Helms said. “So, yes, I’ve decided to run for a second term as sheriff of Marshall County so I can continue working with our commissioners and our deputies to bring our office to where it needs to be at this time. “Being the sheriff of Marshall County and protecting these people is extremely satisfying for me because, to me, it’s about taking care of everyone, and that includes the people who need to be transported to a place where they can get the help they need,” he explained. “Plus, I work with the best bunch of people I’ve ever worked with in my career, and that’s just something I hope to keep doing.” Marshall County Sheriff Bill Helms has participated in several local job fairs attempting to attract new deputies to his department. Why, Oh Why? During his tenure as sheriff and chief deputy under Cecil before that, Helms has handled issues like the traffic connected to the oil and gas industries, with a dramatic increase of mental health transports, and the need for updated technology so he and his deputies can confront crime with new, safer methods. A new drone, for example, had a $36,000 price tag when he presented the need to the Marshall County Commission, and thanks to his presentation, the three members quickly approved the acquisition. “Sure, it was a pricey purchase, but we used that drone for so many different purposes already that it’s already earned its worth,” Helms explained. “That’s why I tell everyone how lucky we are to have the commissioners we have because there are better ways to fight the crimes that are taking place, and that understand that. “When you know you have the support you need to do the job the taxpayers are paying you to do, of course, you want to keep doing it. That’s where I am right now,” he said. “I absolutely want to protect and serve the people of Marshall County for another four-year term.” Now, Helms admits, there are those days when his frustrations boil. “I think everyone has those moments at their places of employment, and yes, I do, too,” the sheriff said. “There are times when we have to make a decision that really is the lesser of two evils, and I know there is going to be a high level of scrutiny when it comes to those decisions. I do not have a problem with that at all. “I work for the people. I tell people in Marshall County all of the time that I work for them. I know where my pay comes from,” he said. “But when you have to make those tough decisions, you think about it because you know how many people are counting on you every day.” So, why another four years? For Helms, it’s a no-brainer. “Being the sheriff of Marshall County is the hardest, and the best job I’ve ever had,” Helms said. “In this profession, everything has to be right all of the time because we’re dealing with life and death on a daily basis. But that’s OK with me because it means the people of this county are safe. “That’s the goal of anyone in this position,” he insisted. “And that’s exactly my goal every single I come to work because that’s why the voters put me in this position in the first place.” Read the full article

[qqueenofhades]

Okay, I’ve read Joe Biden’s plans.

I’ve just sat down and spent several hours actually reading all the damn plans on his website, the whole thing, so you don’t have to. And here’s the conclusion:

They’re pretty good.

Are they absolutely everything we want immediately? Maybe not. Are they a solid Democratic agenda anyway? Yes they are. Are they better than Trump?

Light years!

His Violence Against Women plan is lengthy, detailed, and pays specific attention to violence against Native, lesbian and bisexual, low-income, disabled, rural, transgender (especially trans women of color) immigrant, domestic abuse victims, and other vulnerable women. He calls for replacing and expanding Obama-era policies and funding for campus sexual assault programs that DeVos trashed, and for providing money for culturally specific services that are sensitive to the diverse backgrounds of survivors. He also notes that sexual assault, while it predominantly affects women and girls, needs to be taken seriously and addressed for people of all gender identities.

His gun safety plan is forceful and lays out several steps for banning assault weapons, taking existing weapons from offenders, closing gun purchase background check and other legal loopholes, addressing the intersection between domestic violence and weapons ownership, and reducing or eliminating weapons and ammunition stockpiling.

His plan for tackling climate change and creating green jobs is also lengthy. He makes the connection between economic, environmental, and racial justice. He pledges to immediately rejoin the Paris Agreement and restore American leadership on the issue in pushing for even stronger climate standards, make climate change a central part of our trade, international, and justice goals, demand a worldwide ban on fossil fuel subsidies and tax breaks (!!!) and if the Green New Deal is passed, to sign it, as well as for the U.S. to achieve 100% clean energy and zero percent net emissions by 2050.

His healthcare plan is decent. It offers an immediate public option for all Americans regardless of private, employer, or no coverage, and generous new tax credits to put toward the cost of coverage. It strongly protects abortion rights and federal funding for Planned Parenthood, as well as rescinding the “gag rule” that prevents U.S. federal aid money from being used to provide or even talk about abortions in NGOs abroad. It attacks generic and drug price gouging. It calls for doubling the capital gains tax on the super-wealthy (from 20% to 39.5% paid on capital gains by anyone making over $1 million) to help fund healthcare reform. He also has a separate plan on the opioid crisis in America, and on older Americans and retirement, including the protection and re-funding of Medicare and Social Security.

His immigration plan is lengthy and detailed. He apologizes for and acknowledges the excessive deportation that occured during the Obama-Biden administrations, pledges to do better, and attacks Trump’s current inhumane acitivities on every front. The policy of children in cages, indefinite detention, the metered asylum system, and the Muslim Ban are gone on day one. In this and his LGBTQ plan, he notes the vulnerability of LGBTQ refugees, incuding LGBTQ refugees of color. He proposes streamlining of visa applications and prioritizing the immediate reunification of families. It also specifically states that ICE and CBP agents will be held directly accountable for inhumane treatment.

Speaking of which, his LGBTQ plan is comprehensive. It pays attention to multiple intersectional issues, down to the high rates of incarceration among trans people of color. (He also notes the rates of violence against trans women of color particularly.) He calls for a complete ban on conversion therapy and the discrimination against HIV-status individuals, as well as removing the ban on blood donation from gay and bisexual men. He will remove the transgender military ban immediately. He calls for funding for mental health and suicide prevention among LGBTQ populations.

His plan to empower workers calls for raising the federal minimum wage to $15, as well as indexing this to median hourly wages to ensure that working-class and middle-class wages grow closer to parity, and implementing strong legal protections for unions. He expresses support for striking workers and to empower the National Labor Relations Board in workplace advocacy. Farmworkers, domestic workers, gig economy workers, and other non-traditional labor groups are included in this. He will restore all Obama-Biden policies related to workplace safety and regulation.

His plan to restore American dignity and leadership in the world calls for immediately investing in election security and reform, restoration of the Voting Rights Act, immediately restoring White House press briefings and other Trump refusals of information, tackling criminal justice reform and systematic racial discrimination, calling for campaign finance reform, and basically blowing up all the stupid things the Trump administration does on a daily basis. It also calls for an end to all ongoing wars in the Middle East, restoring the Iran nuclear deal, and new arms control treaties with Russia, among general repairing of international alliances.

His plans for K-12 education and post-high school education call for greatly expanded funding across all levels of 2-year, 4-year, and other educational options. There will be no student loan payments for anyone making under $25,000 a year; everyone else will pay a capped amount and be completely forgiven after a certain period. Public servants qualify for up to $50,000 in loan forgiveness. This is not total loan forgiveness for everyone, which is obviously important for me and many of us, but it’s acceptable to start with. Additionally, his wife is a teacher and has a proven track record of calling for education investment and supporting public school funding.

His plan for housing addresses the needs of formerly incarcerated, LGBTQ, veteran, low-income, sexual assault survivor, black and Hispanic, and other vulnerable populations at risk of losing housing. It calls for a tax on companies and corporations with in excess of $50 billion in assets to fund comprehensive new housing initiatives, including $100 billion in accessible and low-income housing development. It includes extensive investment in public transportation and a high-speed rail system. This ties into his plan to repair infrastructure and invest in new technologies across the country.

His plan for criminal justice reform calls for the end of mass incarceration, the decriminalization of marijuana, the automatic expunging of all cannabis convictions, and an end on jail sentences for drug use. It highlights systematic institutional racism and the impact on black and brown people particularly. It calls for an end on all profiteering and private prisons. It focuses on reintegrating offenders into society and funding the needs of people released from prison. It proposes to “expand and use the power of the U.S. Justice Department to address systemic misconduct in police departments and prosecutors’ offices.” It broadens funding for social services and other programs for people who are otherwise placed into the prison pipeline.

There are more plans, which you can find here. These are the ones I read top to bottom. I am not by any means a Joe Biden fangirl; he was not my first choice, my second choice, or really anywhere on my list. However, having carefully read through his policy documents, I can say that:

He has at the least a good team of advisors who are keenly aware of the political climate, and is willing to both restore Obama-era standards and to improve on them where necessary. Obviously, all politicians’ promises are politicians’ promises, but this is a solid Democratic platform with obvious awareness of the progressive wing of the party.

If progressive legislation is passed in the House and Senate, he will sign it, including the Green New Deal.

He represents a clear and definite improvement over Donald Trump.

Is he everything we want? No. Are his policies better than I was expecting? Yes. I advise you to read through them for yourself. It has made me at least feel better about the likelihood of voting for him.

I realize it’s an unsexy position, especially on tumblr, to advocate for an old centrist white man. I’m not thrilled about having to do it. However, speaking as someone who was very resistant to Biden and still doesn’t agree with all of his previous legislative track record, that’s my consensus. He is a candidate who broadly aligns with values that I care about. His policies represent a concrete end to the damage of the Trump administration and gets us on the right track again.

Joe Biden, if he is the Democratic nominee, will receive my vote on November 3, 2020. I urge you to consider what I’ve laid out above and join me.

[chierafied]

The Silence - Part 5 (SKW2022D5)

SessKag Week 2022, Day 5

Well you see her when you fall asleep But never to touch and never to keep Cause you loved her too much and you dived too deep

- Let Her Go by Passenger

Request

Sesshoumaru’s stalwart resolve began to fade the moment he set his feet down at the castle steps. If getting the permission to take Kagome as his mate were an easy task, Sesshoumaru would have embarked on it months ago. He knew well the perils he was facing here; placing the future of his relationship in the hands of someone whose moods were unpredictable and opinions on humans, in general, weren’t very flattering. 

But somehow, he had to persevere and obtain his goal.

Dread was dogging at his steps as he ascended the stone stair. The only thing propelling him forward was Kagome. He could picture her vividly in his mind, those blue eyes, that small smile, those soft curves that perfectly fit into the circle of his arms. The memories of her glowed like sunlight in his chest, pushing back the fear that loomed in the dark corners of his soul. 

He reached the landing. He could see the elaborate throne ahead and her, sitting upon it like the empress of the world. Even at a distance, her posture spoke of regal grace that had Sesshoumaru’s spine stiffening and shoulders hunching ever so slightly.

This could not possibly go well, he thought glumly as he approached her. She would see too much, her mind would be too quick, her motives too convoluted. Underneath that polished refinement she exuded, she was all sharp edges.

“Sesshoumaru!” her voice called out as he came to a halt before her and bowed his head. “What do you want?”

Sesshoumaru flinched. She would cut right into the heath of the matter, wouldn’t she? Like an assassin with perfect precision and whose blade never wavered. “Why do you presume I want something?”

A pair of silver-white eyebrows arched. “I have not seen you in seven years. Not once in all this time have you bothered to pay a visit to your poor mother. So why are you here now?”

Sesshoumaru swallowed a sigh. The conversation had barely begun and he was already tired. Only she had that effect on him. He’d known she would pierce through his attempt at evasion, but he would have liked a few more moments to compose his thoughts and line up his arguments so he could best present his case. But of course, his mother would have none of that.

So with ill preparation, Sesshoumaru blurted out: “I wish to take a mate.”

“Already?” His mother pursed her lips. “I would have thought you’d wish to wait another century or two before making such commitments, but very well. I can have a list of candidates drawn up for you.”

Sesshoumaru managed not to grind his teeth, in a miraculous feat of patience. “I do not require lists or candidates, Mother. There is but one female I wish to court.”

“Storing all your carrion in one pit?” his mother murmured. 

Sesshoumaru’s claws flexed and his hand balled into a fist. “I will not repeat myself.”

Sesshoumaru’s mother rolled her eyes at him. “I suppose I should be surprised you have managed to find even one female willing to tolerate you. Look at you.” She fluttered her hand at him in a careless wave that sent his blood boiling. “Stiff as a statue! I wonder where I went wrong with you. I despair of you, son.”

Not nearly as much as he despaired himself being her son. His mother was a menace and there was absolutely no dealing with her. Which was one big reason why he’d tried his best to avoid coming here, even if to plead his case.

“I am not here to discuss myself or my upbringing,” he reminded her between clenched teeth.

“Oh, I suppose not.” His mother propped her chin on her hand. “Very well then, where is she? This female of yours?”

Sesshoumaru’s back was suddenly painfully straight, every muscle of his body rigid with tension. The last thing he needed was to have Kagome in any kind of vicinity to his mother. She should not be exposed to the utter lunacy he had the misfortune to be related to.

“I did not bring her with me,” he told his mother, coldly.

Her eyebrows shot up. “Whyever not?”

“I did not think it necessary.”

“Of course you would not, you foolish son of mine.” His mother heaved out a long-suffering sigh. “I, however, am not a fool.”

Sesshoumaru wisely chose not to comment on that.

The playfulness was gone from his mother’s piercing golden eyes as she levelled a long stare at him. “You cannot expect me to grant you permission to take a female I have never even met as your mate.”

“She’s the only one I want,” he growled, exasperated.

“That is all well and good,” his mother intoned calmly, with yet another aggravating hand wave. “But I will not hand out permissions to join our family, our pack, blindly.”

There was both a steel and a sword’s edge in the tone of her voice now and Sesshoumaru knew, with a sinking feeling to his stomach, that his mother would not bend on this. She would insist on meeting Kagome so she could assess his mate-to-be herself. To decide if she was worthy — or if she was lacking, in which case Sesshoumaru’s relationship with Kagome would be more doomed than the painful in-between it was stuck in, now.

Cold fear curled at the base of Sesshoumaru’s spine, even as he was unable to find fault with his mother’s reasoning. The thought of his Kagome, under the scrutiny and impossibility of his mother was simply too dreadful to contemplate.

But she was his Elder and she was the one who would decide to permit his union or not and Sesshoumaru couldn’t deny her.

His heart hammering in his chest, pain lashing across his body like heavy chains wrapping up to force the air out of his lungs, Sesshoumaru lowered his gaze and bowed his head.

“I understand, Mother.”

--

Part Six

[mrpenguinpants]

Genshin: University AU [V1]

I love modern au. Or any “everything is fine, no one died, it’s just a fever dream” au. Half of me is thinking, damn maybe I should answer this serious- LOL HAHA no. That’s not happening. Time to crack my knuckles and let my brainworms take over again.

Once again, this is 90% crack 10% content. I want to switch up my characters from the last brainworm post but I included Kaeya and Diluc.

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Today’s appreciation post goes to twistedwishes. Hey! I’ve been seeing you pop up a lot lately and thanks for the support 💕💕 I hope things are going better for you and you’re doing alright^^ I feel kinda bad for making appreciation posts on crack fics but hopefully this is somewhat funny haha. 

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Genshin: Holding Hands [V1]

Genshin: When you’re cold [V1]

Genshin: Roommate [V1]

Genshin: Royalty AU [V1]

[Masterlist]

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[taglist]  <- if you want to be added, please read this first.

  @mikeysbike @hanniejji@unionwitch @musekala @twistedsunnshiii @stanzastic @akaasea @xoneaboveallx @adoring-ghost @asheseiler @childelover @dilucsz @dai-tsukki-desu @thicmitten @youaskedfurret @diaxfeliz @wintergreen-aix @dandelily @thegayrubberducky @lovelykittycatmeow @yuunoagivesmelife  @dokidokisama @simpygrimoire @minakohasmanyhusbandos @strwbrry-lia @tigerpriestess @yuu-yuukurotsuki​

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Diluc

Absolute pretty boy who has braincells, but only if Kaeya is not there. In his mind, Kaeya’s presence makes his room loose 40% of their common sense. He can’t prove it just yet but he’s working on it. He majors in accounting but also has a minor in marketing, logistics’ management, fia- he majors everything business related. He’s going to become the next Elon Musk through smarts or by getting the competition drunk. There can be no contest if he’s the only candidate. He’s actually a hard working guy that overworks and stresses way too much. You have daily “Diluc recharge” evenings where he just hangs onto you while you go through your day.

“Don’t fucking talk to me until I’ve had my coffee,” except there is no coffee - he drinks grape juice out of juice boxes and his only energy boost is when he meets up with you - and that’s his constant mood. So he usually only hangs around you and Jean, since she has childhood friend status and is actually an angel. By default, Lisa is added and Diluc doesn’t mind her but if he see’s Kaeya, it’s full on war paint mode. If he's not busy with work or studies, he's usually with you either in your dorm or his apartment.

He has a fanclub and he seriously hates it and tries to do everything in his power to get Ningguang to take it down. Shouldn’t this be against his rights? But she refuses for whatever reason and makes a whole speech about free will. No matter what he does, someone manages to take a picture and it get’s printed in the university’s newspaper. The only bonding time he has with Kaeya is every Monday, where they collect and burn all the universities newspapers before anyone can get their hands on it. You always bring marshmallows to make smores during their arson activities.

“When I graduate I’m going to burn this school down to the ground. That’s not a threat it’s a promise.”

Ningguang

Is secretly the leader of the Diluc fanclub - not that she likes Diluc, she’s in a questionable platonic poly marriage with you and Beidou - but it was the easiest way to gain funds for the student council. Which she is the president of, so rip Diluc the fanclub stays. Ruthless business woman I tell you. But she can run in heels so her danger factor rises by at least 20%.

Majors in social sciences and law but more specifically the political science & government. She saw the Imperial State Crown that the Queen of England wears and says yes, that’s mine now. If she’s not with Beidou and you planning on “how to infiltrate the state government just for lols”, then she’s with Keqing, Ganyu, and Zhongli discussing student council things. Should they or should they not tell the student body that they can see everyone’s search results? Sit back and relax as the school goes into chaos. 

She’s probably the scariest person on campus No, she is the scariest person on campus. She’s the scariest person on campus. But secretly she’s popping 20 aspirins just to make it through a night. She has the digestive system of steel. She still holds the title of "seriously do not try and beat her in a drinking game it's never going to happen" and that's her proudest achievement in life but sadly she can’t put it on her resume. Kaeya is still trying to beat her out of spite but so far it hasn't been working. You’re seriously concerned for her when she get’s challenged but Beidou gives you a way-to-hard slap on the back and cheers her on. If Ninngguang somehow get’s alcohol poisonings she’ll somehow find away to make a profit out of it.

"I'll let him die, I'll get the insurance money."

Kaeya

One day he chugged too much mouth wash, passed out, and somehow woke up in university majoring in law. His idea is that if he is apart of the law, he can therefore stand above it. To be fair, his only goal in life is to say “I am the manager” and he can go live the rest of his life in bliss or as a hermit. He’s secret best friends with you but wouldn't be caught dead beside you. He will stab a bitch if you ever get hurt but will still trip you on the way home. Seriously, you have no idea why people find him attractive. Your guess is it’s the eye patch or the clap of his ass cheeks that keeps alerting everyone.  

He’s apart of the newspaper club and if anyone asks: No, he has no idea who keeps taking all the newspapers and burns them in the back of the campus. Originally, he joined because he was nosy and needed to join some type of club for his resume. He sometimes feels bad for his junior assistant Amber because he keeps tricking her and says that Diluc is secretly a demon that is trying to steal all the jobs and is apart of the lizard government hell bent on eradicating the human race. He even brought out a whiteboard for this joke, he’s dedicated to his job ok? 

The type of guy to try and be humble and say his work is “okay” but will choke a bitch if anyone agrees. He tends to leave everything last minute and says that it’s his drug since actual drugs could land you one year in prison and a maximum penalty of $2,000. You have to awkwardly hold in your concerned mother head shake when you see him speed running his assignment literally right when the professor is walking around to check if students finished. 

“I was taught how to lead not to read.”

Mona

Broke wallet #2. Zhongli is broke wallet #1 but Childe simps for him so is he really a broke wallet at this point? In this essay, I Mona Megistus, will explain why I have the rights to the title “Broke Wallet #1″...

Believes that astrology should be an actual career path but refuses to take astronomy as her major. I can read the stars not a textbook that tells me how to calculate the mass of the sun divided by the fucks I give. Instead she went into Philosophy and cries to Albedo, who is an actual prodigy genius- sir lend some braincells to everyone else please?, that her professor keep turning her paper down because “star reading” is not an academic source.

Fischl wants her to join the occult club because, surprisingly, Mona is very good at telling people’s fates through her crayon sketch ouija board. She thinks first year Fischl is cute but is put off by the cosplay roleplay that she has going on. She would join except that stupid hat wearing gremlin in her lit class would make fun of her if he found out.

You gave her half your lunch one day and bought her a doughnut "because she seemed upset" and "out of the goodness of your heart" whatever the hell that means. She thinks you pensioned it but once that thought comes she takes a bite. Poison from a doughnut is not the worst way to go out, classes are hard enough. She’s waiting for the lord to strike her down anyways. 

“Its not about passing, its about doing better than everyone else.”

Venti

Slept through most of highschool and people question how he got into university. He’s a music major (wow how fucking original is that), and if anyone asks him to serenade someone or just do anything, he’ll do it for the right price. Or if you buy him alcohol because he still keeps getting ID checked. He’s banking on Kaeya actually becoming a lawyer or being on good terms with Diluc so he can finally stop being arrested for looking like a toddler.

Takes one step into classes and quickly nopes out and goes back to bed. Professors have no idea how he hasn't dropped out or failed. He just has some god given talent. He does whine at you to pretty pretty please with a cherry on top tutor him because you're such an angel and would never leave your poor but awesome best friend hanging right? He needs to get this essay down but how he is suppose to explain how the number 10 is symbolic and connects to the universe or the meaning of life. Do you think he can just say it’s apart of his culture and make up some random myth to pretend it looks like he knows what he’s doing? 

He’s honestly going with the flow and put his brain on the back burner all of highschool and only now realizes wait, I actually have to use my brain?

He’s been banned from most club chats since Venti has the no chill card. Someone says “lol I look ugly today.” and he’ll respond "yup, you look like a cow." and he get’s banned. Zhongli keeps a speed run timer on his phone just to document these occasions.

"Sad spelled backwards is das and das how it be sometimes."

Childe

An actual dumbass that somehow does well. He eats sandwiches with the crust off, this heathen. Surprisingly he’s studying to become a physical therapist but most of his experience has come from breaking his own bones. You’re scared how he's going to be if he actually becomes a therapist. If he'll make bets with his patients or try to one up whatever crazy injury they get into. Everything is a challenge to him that sometimes the best way to deal with Childe is to knock him out. 

This man really knows the way to a Zhongli’s woman's heart. Through micro transactions. Mona saw him accidently drop $20 and just shrugged and walked off. She has never been both spiritually and physically offended in her life. She did take the $20 though. As much as you hate leeching on Chile when he’s basically a walking wallet that probably uses bills as tissue paper, you can’t help but give him puppy eyes while planning on how to get into his will. If he even plans on having one, he might honestly write “whoever wins in a gladiator style duel in my funeral’s tournament, they will get my fortune.”. 

Any sport the university offers Childe is probably in it. Which is how he met Zhongli, challenged him to a fight, proceeded to have his ass handed to him, got a backhanded compliment, and screamed to you he was in love and how he found his soulmate. He's secretly very sappy and has cried and watched every Disney and Pixar movie at least 28 times.

"IM NOT TOO SPICY! I’M A TINY BIT ABOVE MILD IF ANYTHING!”

---

God if it isn’t Scaramouche, it’s Childe that ruins the aesthetic. This is why I hate you. Why do you people enable me like this, it isn’t even good. This is pretty much a @ yourself moment and I vibe hard with Venti. This entire post was just to make a joke about the clap of Kaeya’s ass cheeks alerting the guards.

This week might slow down since I have classes and assignments. My reply’s are gonna be late too, sorry;; (oh and thank you to everyone that was so supportive and nice when I mentioned it. All of you. Beautiful 💕💕 )

[maomao-words]

Here is another self-indulgent piece of writing!  (✿´‿`)

I binged Blue Lock’s manga in 3 days and I am now left with an empty void that I’m trying to fill by writing about my favorite characters in it.

On a side-note, I always seem to think of them as 18-19 years old. 

Contains few spoilers on some characters’ ranks after the Third Selection!

Being their Personal Manager at Blue Lock: (Itoshi Rin, Seishiro Nagi, Hyoma Chigiri)

Rin Itoshi:

Being assigned to the 1st ranker in all of Blue Lock immediately after your adaptability test barely shocked anyone. At this point in time where the whole existence of Blue Lock centered around Itoshi Rin, it was more than obvious that Rin would only receive the utmost care and the very best of the candidates as his manager.

Ranking first in the agonizingly harsh Entrance Exam and managing to out best all 600 other candidates from over the country, you were always the sole choice for Itoshi Rin’s personal manager.

You were already familiar with Rin’s character, preferences, weaknesses, strengths, diet and overall living style. You even had his body measurements down to the millimeter engraved in your brain. You thought yourself as perfectly ready to assist him in his endeavor, but reality soon proved you slightly wrong.

Meeting the genius called Itoshi Rin for the first time, you swore your blood ran cold within your veins the minute his eyes locked with yours. An oppressive aura, suffocating enough to send shivers down your back, surrounded you immediately the minute you stepped into his room. It took all of your willpower not to tremble in front of him.

Rin’s gaze did not move from yours for what seemed like an eternity, but noticing no visible signs of fear or submission on you, his lips slightly curved in a smirk and he finally stood up from his chair, discarding your test results on the table nearby.

“Not bad. She’ll do for now.”

Once you gained Rin’s initial approval, you started your mission as his closest aid. From the moment Rin opened his eyes to the minute he closed his door at night to sleep, you never left his side. You calculated his calories intake and planned his meals accordingly. You carefully reserved the training field and machines to Rin���s own wishes, making absolute sure they are available for Rin to use without any interruption or interference from other players. You planned, ran around, filled up water bottles and picked up emergency kits more quickly than you have ever did back in your own school’s competitive soccer club. You did that over and over again, to the point that you felt like dying. Until you finally broke down.

But being Itoshi Rin’s personal aid did not even offer you the privilege of breaking down in public. You waited until the day’s clamor and chaos was over. You meticulously prepared Rin’s lunch and reminded him to take the few tablets of vitamins afterwards before finally excusing yourself.

Rin raised a brow in faint confusion, as you have never willingly separated yourself from his side, even during meals. But the wound within your chest has finally festered to the point of no return, and you were unable to provide him with a convincing explanation before you gathered your papers and left.

The empty hallway located far from the center cafeteria soon echoed with your faint sobs. You gathered up your knees close to your chest and slowly rocked yourself in hopes of easing your pain. Weeks of harsh labor, zero communication with the outside world as well as the stress that came with handling all of Rin’s demanding responsibilities finally bled over.

You were not giving up. ‘Make no mistake,’ you whispered to yourself between sobs. You were just taking a much earned break before drying up your tears and returning to work.

But just as you began to feel frustrated at the tears still falling on your cheeks, you felt a heavy cloth fall on top of your head accompanied with an extremely familiar fragrance.

You jolted, hand coming up to clutch at Rin’s jacket before glancing up at the tall figure standing by your side. You opened your mouth but a round package slammed into your face next, leaving you to wince in pain.

“Eat that and let’s hurry back. I can’t find my black cleats.”

Rin’s voice echoed in the empty hall, forcing you to bring your attention to the melon bread he threw at you. Sounds of clothes rustling beside you made you look up again, only to find that Rin has sat down beside you, hand coming up to tug you closer to him.

Placing his palm on top of your eyes, Rin’s voice sounded as soft as ever as he whispered.

“Rest. I’m here.”

Seishiro Nagi:

As you stared down at your test results that have finally arrived after a long wait, you suddenly had the urge to cry out. 

Why him of all people?

Having extensively studied all of Blue Lock’s key players prior to passing the Entrance Exam as a manager, you were filled with admiration and respect to them and thus felt ready to be assigned to any of them. Any of them but Nagi Seishiro.

A beginning who did not even know the most basic of the basics on football yet somehow blessed enough to be labeled as a genius even among Blue Lock’s outstanding participants. That was Nagi Seichiro.

You abhorred geniuses. You abhorred how easily they reached their goals, how effortlessly they achieved their desires and how the entire world seemed to bow down in front of them. Becoming the personal manager of a hard working individual, like Isagi Yoichi for example, would have made you the happiest woman on the planet. To watch that individual sweat and toil, think and plan all of his minor actions in order to reach the pinnacle of his dreams through both talent and hard work and get to assist him in that process was the reason behind your entrance to Blue Lock.

So when the day where the eleven chosen managers entered the isolated towering building to meet the elite players ranking at the top of the whole project came, all you could taste was bitterness and rage in your mouth.

After Ego finished the basic introductions between managers and players, he gave the green light for you all to start performing your duties. As you began to collect your belongings that were delivered to you by the staff, you could see the tall figure of a young man approaching you from behind.

Without allowing Nagi the faintest chance to offer his help, you hoisted your luggage up with both hands and started walking towards the managers’’ sleeping quarters with only “I will be back shortly” thrown behind your back at the frozen Nagi.

A job was a job after all and you had no intention to slack off because of your personal dislikes. But you will be sure to maintain a professional distance from Blue Lock’s 6th ranker to avoid any unnecessary trouble.

Being Nagi’s personal manager was as hard as you have expected. Having to support a monster who does not cease to evolve with each passing day at a frightening pace would be considered had by anyone’s standards. But you were already aware of the heavy duties imposed on you from the start so you grinded your teeth and bared the pain. The only issue you seemed to have was, unsurprisingly, Nagi himself.

You have intended for your cold treatment the day you both met to be enough warning for the player. You wanted to perform your duties. Nothing less, nothing more. But Nagi seemed to have another idea on the relationship between you. 

He did not hinder your tasks nor act difficult on purpose to harm you, but he also made sure to greet you warmly each morning before plopping his large hand on top of your head and gently pat your hair for a few minutes before leaving.

He made sure to stick close to you during meal time, pushing off whatever he deemed not-tasty to your own plate, and innocently smiling when your try to scold him. He always shared his dessert with you, no matter how many times you tried to lie and tell him you disliked sweets. He constantly tried his best not to overburden you with questions on players and tactics and carefully chose the times where you were free enough to answer him.

In short, Nagi Seichiro was a weirdo. A weirdo you wanted to choke.

As the time went by, your perspective on Nagi was entirely transformed, despite yourself. You started to put extra care into his meals, go beyond what is required of you when it came to taking care of his training schedule and treatment and even sacrifice some of your free time in order to answer as much of his questions as you can.

One morning, as Nagi stepped in the room and smiled brightly at you, you found yourself moving in closer to him before raising your arms and catching him in a tight hug. Nagi almost stumbled in surprise, but managed to stable you both as he wrapped his hands behind your back. But before he could even utter a word, your mouth opened and a joyful, “Good morning Sei-chan!” came out.

Hyoma Chigiri:

“Are you sure you wish to be assigned to Chigiri?” Ego’s detached voice echoed in the almost empty hall, stopping you in your tracks. The results of the Blue Lock Entrance Exam for managers were just announced and the chosen eleven were asked to pack up and be ready to leave in a two-hours frame.

“You do realize that your rank actually qualifies you to become Itoshi’s Rin support, don’t you?” Ego’s fingers tapped on the table in a rhythmic manner, not stopping even as you glared at him.

“Yes, sir, I am well aware of that fact. But my decision will not change.” Your voice, calm and steady, caused Blue Lock’s host to grin, his raven locks falling to the side as he tilted his head to inspect you closely. “A calculative, rational and logical tactician as you, who managed to outrank all 600 other participants in a six hour long exam, is moved by mere personal emotions?”

It was hard for any regular person to detect the mockery dripping from each of Ego’s words and not feel their blood boiling within their veins. Only you slightly smirked at Ego, eyes curving in genuine mirth as you joyfully answered: “Yes! Is there any problem?”

All the struggles you have faced so far in order to reach this point were, after all, done for the sake of one person: Hyoma Chigiri. Specializing in medical treatment and athletic injuries as a manager was not a coincidence. You have long became aware of your intense desire to support Chigiri and aid him in his journey to achieve his dreams. No matter how many people laughed at you both, no matter how many criticized your choices and claimed you could do much, much better than an injured boy, playing on borrowed time, your resolve never shook.

As you finally locked eyes with Chigiri after your arrival at Blue Lock, you saw how his shoulders slightly trembled and his eyes widened, and your resolve was instantly renewed. Not many words were needed as you playfully extended your hand to shake Chigiri’s own. He was aware that you were there for him and that you will not change your mind no matter what he says or does.

Your duties at Blue Lock were slightly easier than your fellow managers simply due to the fact that you were already familiar with Chigiri’s routine. Needing no time to adjust, you dove head first into taking care of Chigiri, putting the well-being of his knee as your utmost priority. You tried your best not to bite your lips each time you bent down to take a look at the previously injured area, fully knowing that Chigiri has made his peace with the incident and was now focusing on moving on with no regrets.

Your favorite task to perform was, and still is, taking care of Chigiri’s silky hair. You were faced with his slightly damaged locks the day you arrived at Blue Lock’s building and Chigiri had to apologize a couple of times for ruining the hair you treasured the most. Ever since then, you returned to your usual task of picking hair products for him, drying and styling his hair depending on Chigiri’s schedule for the day. Braids were your go-to style but you also enjoyed changing things up, knowing that it made Chigiri happy each time you tried to come up with a new hairdo.

Now that you were finally reunited with your childhood friend and lover, you were ready to give it your all and see it all to its final end.

[missmentelle]

Let’s talk about Instagram “influencer” culture. 

My younger brother and his girlfriend are Instagram influencers. They aren’t household names with a million fans apiece, but they each have a decent following. They’ve been featured in various lists and roundups of people whose lives and relationships are #goals, and they both earn a steady income from Instagram. Not enough to make a full-time living, but enough to make pouring hundreds of hours into their Instagram careers worth their while. 

Despite being so close to an Instagram influencer - several of the most popular photos on my brother’s account were taken by me - I have some serious qualms about Instragram “influencer” culture as a whole. I studied the impact of platforms like Instagram in graduate school - I have a master’s degree in clinical psychology, and I spent part of my time in grad school working with a professor who studies the impact of social media on mental health. A recent study found that out of all social media platforms, Instagram is the worst for your mental health. I’ve also had the chance to see firsthand what a life lived on Instagram has meant for my brother, and the toll it continues to take on him. 

So what makes Instagram influencer culture so toxic for both the people who create it and the people influenced by it? For starters: It’s faker than you think. Instagram stars intentionally market themselves as “authentic” and “real” - you are led to believe that you are getting an unfiltered glimpse into someone’s daily life as you follow along with their pictures and their daily stories. In reality, however, a huge amount of time, effort and money goes into the images you see. My brother and his girlfriend take hundreds of photos in order to get one or two shots worthy of posting. Outings are often little more than photoshoots; a “hike” is often just a short walk to a scenic location, followed by hours of photos. Ditto for ice skating, beach days and photos from music festivals. They don’t get to enjoy many of the activities they are depicted doing with big smiles on Instagram, because the focus is on capturing the perfect photo. Photos are often planned weeks in advance, vacations are booked based on which locations will make the best backdrops, and the fancy food in their pictures often goes cold while they get the perfect shot. The fact that they want to create beautiful images is not an issue - after all, the pictures in many mainstream ads are stunning. The issue is that they’re specifically pretending not to be models or advertisers; they are intentionally leading you to believe that what you’re seeing is candid daily life. Which leads me to...

It presents unattainable ideals as everyday life. Instagram influencers roll out of bed in perfect and tastefully-decorated apartments, eat nutritious and visually stunning meals, and lead full, active lives of glamour and adventure. Their skin is never flawed, their hair never out of place, and their outfits never tacky. Again, this isn’t a problem if you are creating an advertisement or a TV show - something that your viewers know is manufactured to look perfect - but Instagram stars hinge their success on pretending that that level of non-stop perfect is their average, daily life. In reality, my brother’s girlfriend piles dirty laundry and books in her bathtub so that her bedroom looks “minimalist” in her photos, and the two of them post weeks-old starry-eyed couple photos with gushy captions even when they are on the verge of breaking up. Influencers themselves tend to be young, attractive, white, thin, able-bodied, middle-class cis people - an ideal that is already unattainable for most people - and yet they present themselves as totally average people. When flaws and problems are revealed, it’s often in a very controlled way, and generally tied in with some kind of pithy advice or mantra. Which brings us to...

It encourages people with no credentials to hand out “expert” advice. This is probably one of the most damaging aspects of influencer culture. 22-year-olds with absolutely no formal training in nutrition, mental health, medicine, dermatology or fitness are handing out “expert” wellness advice - or even designing diets, skincare routines, and workout regimens for others - and feeling increasingly comfortable doing it. Vulnerable people who may have very serious issues lap this advice up, regardless of how unsound or untested it may be; after all, these influencers appear to have perfect lives, and it’s easy to assume that they must know the secrets of health, happiness and clear skin. There are a couple of huge problems with this. For one, many people aren’t actually aware of why they are successful - if a conventionally attractive cis white woman whose parents financially support her tells you that the secret to avoiding stress is meditation and mud masks, you should be skeptical of that advice. People in positions of relative privilege are often blind to the many advantages they have, and will attribute their success to their “wellness routines” or “positive thinking”, rather than the social advantages that are not available to many of their followers. Also, influencers are often peddling advice that they themselves do not follow. My brother’s girlfriend makes money by selling advice on how to make a full-time living while travelling the world, despite the fact that she isn’t actually able to do that. Many influencers who promote extremely restrictive diets and health regimes have admitted that they themselves do not follow these diets. People who are feeling deeply insecure about their bodies, relationships, careers, lifestyles and productivity are turning to advice from people who aren’t qualified to help. And why does every Instagram star suddenly seem to be offering themselves up as a “wellness” expert? It’s because...

It exists to sell you things, while pretending otherwise. As much as the influencer community presents itself as being all about “authenticity”, “expression”, “empowerment”, or “wellness”, at the end of the day, it is all about trying to sell you things, even if that means exploiting your deepest insecurities. A company that employs plus-sized models to represent their $90 leggings is still a company that, at the end of the day, is trying to sell you $90 leggings, and if they have to pay someone to convince you that these leggings are the only thing standing between you and finally loving your body and having the courage to chase your dreams, then that’s exactly what they are going to do. It is an advertisement, dressed up as self-help and inspiration from an ordinary person who just wants you to succeed. If you find that you feel bad about yourself after a couple of minutes of scrolling through your instagram feed, that’s the impact that the app is meant to have on you. People who are completely satisfied with themselves and their lives don’t buy things they don’t need - making you feel like your life should be better is the key to selling you a wide variety of products. 

Does all this mean that Instagram is evil, or that influencers are bad people? Of course not. They are people trying to make money through self-expression, and many produce interesting and engaging content. Many of them are very young, and may not think about the impact that they might be having on their followers. I certainly don’t think that any of them set out to deceive people. But it is important to think critically about the media we consume, the purpose of that media, and the message it carries. I have known many people, both personally and professionally, who find that they feel worse about themselves after spending an afternoon scrolling through social media, and I think it’s important for all of us to examine why that may be, and take steps to protect our own mental health.

[realcube]

CELEBRATING YOUR BIRTHDAY 

characters ♡ bokuto, tendō, matsukawa & suna

tw ♡ gn! reader, timeskip! bokuto (all sfw tho), swearing, reader wears makeup (matsukawa), swearing, mentions of death & food 

cred ♡ thanks to anon for this request <3

KŌTARŌ BOKUTO

♡ he was literally counting down the days to your birthday, he even took the day off practise to celebrate it with you so imagine his surprise when the special day finally rolls around and he wakes up to an empty bed

♡ at first, he thought that perhaps you were just around the house somewhere but nope, the place was completely empty and even worse, all signs pointed to his theory that you had gone to work/school on your birthday 

♡ outraged. he was absolutely outraged. 

♡ firstly, he tried calling you but you wouldn’t pick up, even after his many attempts so his next resort to call your place of work/school reception 

♡ obviously he managed to get a hold of you then-

♡ he was originally gonna yell about how you lied to him about taking the day off on your birthday but there was no way he could be angry at you — almost ever — so instead, he made the quick decision of telling you to have a nice day before hanging up 

♡ you were kinda pissed that he wasted your time like that but how could you stay mad at him? he’s fkn adorable! he blew you audible kisses over the phone for good luck!

♡ you laboured your way through the day, putting in great effort yet through it all, the only thing on your mind was how much you wanted to just pass out on the couch with bokuto as soon as you got home. you weren’t even sure if you had the energy to change into your pjyamas.

♡ however, when you finally did arrive home, there was no need to put yourself through the onerous task of changing clothes as the first thing you were greeted by when you stepped foot in your own home was a chorus of cheers of ‘surprise!’ followed by people spilling out into the foyer from the kitchen and living room 

♡ then there was bokuto, the loudest of them all leading the crowd, blowing into the party horn while dashing up to, throwing his arms around your shoulders to pull you into a tight hug, ‘happy birthday, sweetie!’

♡ a light gasp escaped your lips at the sudden hoots, and the unfamiliar — and frankly uncomfortable — sight of many friends swarm towards you had you on edge but when you felt bokuto wrap you in his warm embrace, you knew you were home

♡ he held you close until you were forced apart by many guests tearing you away to personally wish you a happy birthday

♡ now that the initial shock had died down, you noticed that there wasn’t as many people present as you thought, it was a humble gathering of all your closest friends 

♡ there was a massive pile of bright-colored gifts lying on the stairs, and it was hard not to immediately acknowledge them as the sheer mass and number of the presents scattered across the steps prevented anyone from being able to go upstairs

♡ the following day, you were made aware of the fact 90% of those presents were addressed from ‘your best ace husband ;)’ which was pretty straight-forward considering you only have one husband; kiyoomi sakusa. 

♡ jokes, you married bokuto but sakusa was also at the party. he originally just wanted to drop off his gift then leave but bokuto persuaded him to stay, though he seemed to be regretting it now as almost everyone at the party now shared an unspoken goal to slam sakusa’s face into one of the cupcakes that decorated the circumference of your cake

♡ speaking of the cake, bokuto remembered what type of cake was your favorite from the wedding planning and he was so chuffed with himself. in fact, he was so confident in his cake picking ability that he ordered a massive 3-tier monster of a dessert 

♡ neither of you would be able to finish it before it goes bad so you ended up cutting it up into pieces  and sending each guest away with a little goody-bag with a slice of cake inside lmao 

♡ once you had finished your goodbyes and everyone had filed out of your home, you flopped onto the couch and let out a deep sigh of relief. well, it was only a sigh for a few moment as it became a wheeze when bokuto laid down on top of you 

♡ ‘happy birthday, (y/n). i’m sorry if i tired you out.’ he hummed, fiddling with your fingers as his lips curled into a shaky smile

♡ ‘i’m a bit sleepy but i had an amazing time. thank you so much, kō.’

♡ bokuto smiled, his heavy lid falling shut as he finally rested his neck, being able to fall asleep comfortably now that you’ve told him that you had fun

SATORI TENDŌ

♡ unlike bokuto, he’ll actually mention your birthday a few weeks prior to the celebration so he can plan the perfect date :3

♡ ‘so do you wanna go to the aquarium or the theme park? because i know we’ve went to the park before but they remodelled it apparently. plus, maybe the aquarium is a bit underwhelming for such a special day, but it’s up to yo--’

♡ ‘we won’t really get to spend much time in either. if you consider the time school finishes, the train ride and the time the aquarium and park closes so maybe we could just chill at my house instead.’

♡ tendō deadpanned for a moment, the most unamused look taking over his features until he suddenly burst out laughing, cackling as if you just told the joke of the century, ‘seriously, (y/n)? you’re gonna go to school on your birthday.’

♡ ‘yes, of course.’ you replied in all seriousness, resulting in tendō awkwardly beginning to stifle his chuckles.

♡ he frowned, slumping back into the seat beside you, ‘c’mon, it’s your birthday, though! you deserve the day off.’

♡ you shook your head, kindly declining his suggestion, ‘i have a test on that day.’

♡ ‘all the more reason to ditch!’

♡ now it was your turn to deadpan

♡ tendō tossed his head back while letting out a sigh  of defeat, draping his arm around your shoulder to lovingly pull you to his chest, ‘alright, then. whatever you want, dear.’

♡ you smiled, glad that you didn’t need to disagree with him any longer — and you were even happier on the day. even though you insisted that he keeps things small on your birthday, he still managed to find a way to make things extra asf by getting you a massive plush that was about half the size of your stature and a hamper of homemade chocolates ><

ISSEI MATSUKAWA 

♡ honestly, he’s never been the best at giving gifts but he tries extra hard for you 

♡ like if you off-handedly say that you are cold during class, he’ll buy you a bunch of new jackets, jumpers and gloves

♡ or if you say you need more mascara, he’ll buy you exact same one you usually wear 

♡ he’s observant enough to notice and remember the exact shade and brands of all your cosmetic products but he’s not observant enough to pick up on the subtle hints you drop as to what you want for your birthday 

♡ you can never guess what he’s gonna get you and that adds to your anticipation for the day 

♡ if your birthday is on a school day, he’ll bring in a batch of homemade cupcakes (which hanamaki helped him with) and stick a candle in one of them for you to blow out 

♡ he offers you one but they are all pretty stale- just smile and nod while your teeth feel like they are being shattered trying to bite down on the cupcake 

♡ it might set off the fire alarm but oh well, just count that as another present

♡ oikawa will probably get you something like a bouquet and try flirt with you so at that point, matsukawa and hanamaki begin using the cupcakes as weapons 

♡ they are a two for one deal so you’re going to be spending the day with both of them tailing you like lost puppies

platonic RINTARŌ SUNA

♡ (requester specified) your birthday is on the same day as his so ofc he’s going to be a little salty abt it 

♡ you both created a game to see who receives the most birthday wishes and whoever won gets ¥1500 from the loser’s birthday money

♡ for the past few years, he’s usually been the winner by just a few but this year, you made it a point to befriend all him teammates in order to ensure victory 

♡ having to pretend to be friendly with atsumu — who wasn’t very good at hiding his massive crush —was definitely a challenge but you powered through 

♡ in fact, you may have played the role too well as both the miya twins gave you a gift 

♡ osamu gave both you and suna a plastic bag filled with some food he made and water bottles

♡ as for atsumu, his gift to you was a massive hamper filled with an assortment of many different luxury confectionary which didn’t look cheap at all but it didn’t feel appropriate to question the price so you simply took it from him with a bright smile

♡ of course, suna was excited (and very hungry) as he expected the same gift but he was more than disappointed when all he received was a bag of chips and a slap on the back

♡ he goes out of his way to tell every teacher it’s your birthday in hopes that they’ll make the class sing happy birthday to you 

♡ but it pisses him off to no end when you add that it’s his birthday too so he ends up getting roped into your misery 

♡ also your thumbs are going to be sore at night swiping through all the various candid pics that suna took of you throughout the day (in less than flattering poses) which he uplaoded to almost all of his social media stories with stupid ass captions 

♡ but dw bc he’ll eventually post a nice photo of you with a sweet message

♡ ‘happy birthday to @(y/n) . i would die for you, bitch (even though you annoy the hell out of me every single day 🤠).’ 

[dubsxreader]

worship the king //.o1 // shigaraki tomura x female!reader

summary: after the soul crushing realization that you're not meant to be the Hero you've spent your life training to be, you hunt down the most indiscriminate killer you know: Dabi. his man-child of a leader being there only makes the task easier, right? too bad Shigaraki has a knack for seeing things in others they don't see themselves. wc: 3,312 playlist: here!

rated: M for dark and mature themes; future lewd tw: suicidal ideation (seriously don't read if you're in a bad mindset this probs won't help), depression, toxic thoughts, manipulation, the start of a v dependent, idolizing relationship ie "worship" in all definitions of the word haha. Shigs taking advantage of a mentally vulnerable hero basically; dead dove do not eat for that reason.

a/n: this is something I wrote almost year ago now, when I first fell head over heels for Shigs and really felt like bnha was saving me from insanity haha. I have 15 pages of notes for this fic, but for now, for the King's birthday, this is my thank you to him and a year of loving Shigaraki Tomura <3 also to the xreader community for being my gateway into every fandom that takes over my life haha. will be posted to ao3 later

You stand on a cracked, littered rooftop, sullenly looking over the calamity you figured would be destroying the lives of every day, happily unaware citizens tonight. A slight sigh of relief leaves your chewed-to-hell lips, hidden to your own addled mind but glaringly apparent to any of your fellow heroes who’d commented on your state of mind the past few months.

You appreciated their care, you really did—for all the surface level care it could give, that is. It wasn’t their fault they couldn’t understand. They were simply more Heroic than you, official capital and all. More driven, stronger, faster… But you’ve been doing the absolute best you can, and you were sure of that. Days–weeks months?–of harshly honest self speculation assured you of your failures and of the fact that, simply put, you weren’t cut out for shouldering multitudes of lives every time you stepped out your door. Heroism didn’t just end when you took off your costume; no, it was an ideology that should be ingrained into the soul of the costume wearer, and you’d come to the jarring conclusion that, after all your special training, you just weren’t up to snuff.

You couldn’t even save yourself from your own demons. How the hell were you supposed to save those more deserving of life if you couldn’t cope with your own shit?

A small, condescending snort leaves your nostrils as you observe the blue flames engulfing the area below you. Fucking worthless. What was the point, then? Hours of support Hero's work on your items, costume—wasted. The countless words of love and support from friends and family. Ha. Your eyes track the small movements of the current chaos’ perpetrators with a keenness you've found twisted comfort in recently. A familiar, all encompassing fixation gears up that brings you out of the cloud of self-doubt, hate, and deprecation that was so, so wrong to feel as a Pro-Hero in today’s society. In this bubble there's a solution, so it's okay. You let out a numbing breath.

Maybe you could give the Villains +1 morality in the eyes of whatever twisted being rested on their laurels, idly watching as you drive yourself insane.

A swift gust of wind knocks the empty cans and bottles from their peaceful resting places as you leave your perch, descending into the empty alley below to begin your last stand against yourself. Resolute and heavy steps echo in the widened, deserted streets of the city you vowed to protect—a small, still aware part of you thankful it’s so late at night that most would be sleeping. Your targets (saviors?) usually moved when they would make the most social impact, but you’d been tracking a certain member that didn’t seem to adhere to their strict schedule.

Whoever they were behind the obvious moniker, they seemed to kill liberally. It should be easy. You take a numbing breath.

The stench of burning flesh and ash is suddenly all too pungent, assaulting your senses enough to kick your mind into another, more logical plane and question how stupid you’re being. How disappointed everyone who knew you would be. Izuku and Hitoshi, especially, had been trying their hardest to devote extra time to you recently, you knew that—fuck, how selfish were you to bring their attention away from a goal they’d fought so hard to achieve?

The flames are smoldering char on concrete when you arrive at the end of another alleyway, just as dirty as the one you’d come from… But the incineration just seemed to have cleansed the way of its trash. You nearly sigh again in morbid relief when you see two men still standing there in the aftermath. You can see from behind that the man you’ve been tracking, Dabi, still has his left arm extended, as if relishing the memory of his flames destroying the ones he deemed unworthy.

Hands in your hero costume’s pockets, you steel yourself in your usual Hero emotions: indignation, conviction, disgust at the idea of them feeling they had a right to do anything going against the grain of the society you were indoctrinated into. You clear your throat with the last of your practiced confidence, bringing the sights of the two Villains to your own frame shadowed by the bright street lamp at your back.

“You two aren’t planning on getting away with this, are you?”

Your simple, deadpan drawl has both men scoffing to themselves and sharing a look of exasperation and annoyance. They clearly want nothing more than to be done with whatever the hell they were doing; your gaze sharpens in acknowledgment while their own take note of your hero costume. This is it. This is really it. You’ve done it. Is it really what you want?

Your eyes ice over, hardening to protect your vulnerabilities when they meet those of the second man’s own carmine flecks, so unflinching and so, so bored from behind his trademark hand.

Yeah. This is it.

Resignation freezing the rest of your visage and nothing left to say, you dash forward with simple physical speed, locking onto the Villain you recognize as the leader of the League of Villains himself. Sure, Dabi was a proven relentless killer, but you figure if you go after the leader himself there would be even less hesitation or time to think on either side. They were both reportedly unflinching, ruthless, uncaring and absolutely evil, but Shigaraki’s devilishness was practically beaten into you at this point. He was the obvious candidate, the oddness of his presence meaningless yet welcome at this point.

Your eyes never leave his as you take those last three lunging leaps, your arm cocked back in a hopeful show of some impressive power you might possess, in a display grand enough to paint yourself as a threat if not at the very least an annoyance.

Blue flames lick at the back of your costume. You’d somehow been faster than Dabi’s flames, which made no sense at all—you weren’t fast in any capacity if you were to judge yourself. It must’ve been a misfire. Lucky you’ve targeted the faster acting Villain.

Something distinctly odd flashes in his previously disinterested eye as you rush him, your Quirk barely powered yet still reflecting in his observation as you aim for the mask. Your own, in contradictory spite, slows as your mind races, brushing the hand enough to feel the inexplicitly soft and leathery texture, knocking it clean off the face of the man you’d targeted. Maybe it's the adrenaline, maybe it's the anticipation of the end, but you don’t feel anything near what you thought you’d feel when his living hand grazes your outstretched arm. If anything, it feels like an angry wasp had come at your elbow in some sort of misguided revenge attempt. Bearable.

Fucking livable.

You skid to a shaky stop feet behind them, your glare going to the small hole in your costume’s arm where he’d made the briefest of contact. The skin had only begun to crack and decay from a central point; nothing near the scale and intensity you’d been warned about by your superiors and peers. What the fuck gives?

A desperate rage threatens to erupt at the lack of damage. You feel cheated. Your eyes shift from the minimal damage to the apprehensive yet notably curious eyes of your chosen euthanasist. Was he just not taking you seriously? You didn’t blame him, but…

“I thought the League was the best of the best?” The sting in your arm is mockingly there and you scoff, barely hiding your indignation at his unfulfillment of the role you’d forced upon him. You take it and use it to fuel the crumbling foundation of your resolve, ashing it to the ground yourself and focus on the slightly slumped figure topped with white-blue hair.

His eyes are now magnetized and piercing, never wavering from your own, adding to your rage and confusion. Just what is he getting at, looking straight at you in the fucked up state you’re in and just–just fucking seeing–?! You aren’t looking for pity, fuck all if it's from the person you’ve deemed would have the balls you didn’t to end this shitty nightmare you live in. With a primal, anguished and utterly guttural scream you dash forward once more towards Shigaraki Tomura, hand erupting in a more accurate show of your true power.

Once again, he simply guides your attack away from him into empty space, this time with a deft shove of his index finger. Silent and calculating. You stumble on your feet as you land, ignoring the insulting sting, and turn to face them at a pace you know isn’t up to Hero standards but unable to even fake it anymore. Your eyes, though.

They fucking call to him.

How could he dust you? A Pro-Hero, coming at him alone, a deadly ally at his side, with what he knew from his research to be nowhere near their quirk’s power and potential?

Nevermind the look in your eyes he’d recognized immediately—this Hero was asking to be killed. Cracked lips twitch to grin at the situation. His mind works at full throttle to balance the possibilities.

“Heh…” The small breath leaves him, a smirk winning out and pulling at already taught skin, “You’re looking to die, aren’t you, Hero?”

Your brows furrow in… Fuck, you can’t identify your feelings at this point–they shouldn’t matter–they’d become obsolete the moment you took a swing at the supposedly impulsive and irrational Villain in charge. All you can feel is the overwhelming sense of weight, of pressure, of absolute and total CHAOS destroying any semblance of unity you’d pulled together to end this.

“What the fuck does that matter to you, Villain?!” Your glare is full of a rawness you can’t recognize, let alone mask, “Fucking fight me or die!”

His smirk, now fully on display, stretches to the smuggest of smiles as he takes his experimental first steps forward, casually retrieving the hit hand and placing it safely in his trench coat pocket. You weren’t immediately attacking him—hell, you weren’t even defending yourself! You’d only be more obvious if you’d delivered yourself to his doorstep tied in a bright, blood-red ribbon labeled “do what you want, I don’t care anymore!” It made his blood simmer, his skin itch in excitement at all the optional routes opened up before him.

Quickly, too quickly to deploy your defense {even if you wanted to}, he’s in your face and encircling your neck in a four fingered grasp. Your eyes vaguely mark Dabi looking on with a detached interest, and you can’t help but mirror his lack of understanding—your emotions and thoughts unfortunately too far past controllable to be hidden behind the usual Heroics.

“You could still serve a purpose, you know.”

Narrowed (e/c) eyes meet piercing, analytical rubies set to freeze and crumble enemies. You have no answer to that, none at all—if you hadn’t come across another anything while you’d been searching in earnest, how could it be tossed into your lap from the hands of a Villain? Your clear disbelief doesn’t deter him in the slightest. It only gives him the subtle signals he needs to ensure a dedicated new member of his team. This situation could only go well for him and the League, if he plays it right, and he’s thankful Dabi knows when to shut the hell up and take the back seat when he truly should.

He’s never seen Shigaraki’s version of recruitment before. After Dabi's climate destroying display, he could use a lesson.

On the edge though this Hero is, the line is thin and the touch needed is delicate and calculated.

“You can make a real difference in this rotten world,” Shigaraki slowly lowers his defensive arm and loosens his grip on your neck, conveying his intentions to calm you. He notices this strikes an especially sore nerve that you’re too unhinged to recognize. You’re taken over by your emotions, unable to distinguish that you’ve offered your weaknesses to your enemy on a silver platter. Disgusted rage he’s now certain is self-focused meets him, only bringing him a step closer to your frozen and highly panicked figure. His free fingers fidgets on the clammy skin of your neck, tapping a pattern across your throbbing pulse, expectant and soft while the other stays loosely, carefully, against your clavicle.

It's constant.

It's… calming?

No, it's fucking overwhelming and uncomfortable and— As if your body’s acting on the last vestiges of your studies, you struggle in his grasp and pull your dominate arm back, channeling all your sadness and panic you’d been unable to expel into the attack you hoped would just fucking end this fucking end this it’s done—

Another four fingered grip captures your wrist, directing your power away from anything important and only ruffling Dabi’s clothes as he watches on. You choke on a cry, near your mask’s end with Shigaraki’s unexpected patience. You’d been told this was nothing more than a spoiled, raging, calloused young man entirely unable to connect with any feelings other than his own selfish need to destroy all Heroes he came in contact with. The only conclusion your racing mind can come to is that he doesn’t even view you as a Hero worth destroying. Thick and torrid tears rush from your eyes, betraying your need to be recognized and being denied that luxury in your final moments.

“I can’t even get what I need from you fuckfaces—!” Your cry rings out, eyes shutting tightly, shaking with the force of your emotions finally finding the breaking point they need to crash through into the real world, “What the fuck can I do to make a fucking difference?!”

Shigaraki pauses to assess your sobbing. You’ve all but folded into yourself; you would’ve disintegrated against his hold on your neck if he hadn’t been paying attention. No… he sees you. He sees you. His fingered grip on your neck slides up to force your head to follow, meeting his sure gaze. You’re lost. You’re anxiously grasping at anything you can to stop the burning, itching need to destroy your own mind… And he gets that. He knows what it took to hook him tightly into his own mindset. He knows of seeing a seemingly impossible goal set before him, of feeling unworthy and needing to prove himself to his peers and himself. If anyone could reshape you... it would be him. If anyone were to reshape you... it should be him.

“It isn’t fair, is it…?” He starts slowly, voice dripping with cooing understanding, gauging your expressions and body, “You work so hard to be what others want you to be… And never feel enough, even when you put your all into it.” Your whole being shudders at his words, breaking down and melting into the pressure of your expectations for yourself. You choke on another messy sob, tears blinding you, snot nearly reaching your lips, a trail of drool unknowingly slipping from the corner of your grimacing lips.

“We’d never expect more than you can give, you know,” He all but whispers into your ear, his words echoing with staying power. You miss the tiniest bit of excitement he lets slip into his tone at the thought of corrupting a fairly strong Hero to his cause with mere psychological one-upmanship. The power over your entire existence is an intoxicating prize and he’s not about to let go of it if he can help it.

A sad cross between a whimper and a cry escapes you as you crumble even more into a hold you’d only come to for annihilation. Why wasn’t he killing you? Why weren’t you dead? You’d wanted to die, needed to just stop everything and just—just STOP, finally, just stop. He was a hardened criminal with no need for heroes, what the hell kind of use did he see in you? You still the tiniest bit. You just need a use, a tangible use, is that what you’ve been missing? A clear direction set before you by an overwhelmingly liberating, intelligent, capable force… Could he see it through all the absolute shit you covered yourself in?

A tentative spark lights the furthest parts of you as you finally meet his confident and knowing gaze. Fuck if you don’t feel seen for the first time in your life, finally seen and accepted for the absolute mess you see yourself as. The conflicting, philosophical doubts you’ve had about Heroism, and your own heroics in the existential race you call a life, find a peaceful place in Shigaraki Tomura’s vision.

It's an alien calm, a powerful sedative on your mind, leading you to melt into his look—telling him all he needed to know and more. The grin he sports widens and his eyes shift to give a silent command to Dabi, still (surprisingly) observing quietly, before changing your life indefinitely, “Follow me, little hero. You'll never be lost again.”

A deep, swirling purple warp gate you’d only seen in footage appears at the entrance to the alleyway.

The loose grip on your neck finally leaves completely, giving you ample room to escape up and out across the rooftops. You’re frozen in your battling thoughts at the suddenly very real decision in front of you.

You knew you weren’t good enough to be a Hero. You’d been struggling with the core beliefs on what the word even meant, if the world you’d been taught was even so black and white. Did you even want to die or did you just need someone to come and give you a purpose, some great refocusing direction? Someone to swoop in, recognize and acknowledge your pain before wiping it away and giving you something definite to live for? You knew you couldn’t make it as a Hero. You were nothing in that world. But maybe you could make that nothing existence, doomed to the weaker, better…?

Eyes nearly blinded before blinking down more streams of tears, you sniffle and take a tentative step towards the man looming tall over you, an umbrella shielding you from a brightness you couldn’t stand to be seen in. You harshly wipe your falling tears to watch Dabi walk swiftly into the portal, an unlit cigarette of some sort dangling from his patterned lips. Shigaraki steps to it much slower. He stops before he reaches it, twisting subtly to look at you from over his shoulder. He shouldn’t have to say anything more for you to follow, if his assumptions are correct—

They are.

Your first steps are slow but pick up speed quickly, feet nearly throwing you into his right side, at the mouth of the portal to a place described by your thoughts as no return. His eyes widen in delight, a manic grin following as he places the fingers of his left hand onto your head in a semblance of comfort. More than he ever got. His right arm wraps confidently around your waist, absurdly consoling to your rapidly evolving morals and needs.

It allows you to let it all go, though. It tells you someone more capable, more prepared is there. That he sees you and is keeping you alive because you’re useful to him. You can’t seem to care why when the overwhelming realization that such a powerful man saw you as you were, truly were, and still found a profound use for you in a world you were dying in takes a strong hold. You’re practically weightless as he guides you into the inky blackness of his caretaker’s portal, mind clicking into place and recognizing the distinct choice you’re making with a calm acceptance of this development in your life.

You were a useless hero. Perhaps this is your chance to prove you could make a difference to someone as a villain.

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

a/n: thanks so much for reading!! :) hope you enjoyed~ happy birthday, Shigster! maann I wish he'd take me away ;w; drop of a hat, I'm gone lol. the ultimate escapism... yandere!Shigaraki! xD annyway, I hope you have a wonderful day~ <3

[happytsukki]

boyfriend material

k. bokuto

in which you inquire bokuto to act as your fake boyfriend for a weekend, but you’re the one acting like you don’t have real feelings for him.

a/n: so you’re telling me i have to accept the fact that bokuto isn’t real?? real heartbreak 😔 anyway i love the fake dating trope hehe i hope u enjoy!! idk how i feel about the end ummm

“be my boyfriend, taro.”

“woah woah woah, slow down y/n. technically you haven’t even confessed to me yet,” stuttered bokuto, his eyes darting around the nearly empty library just to avoid your gaze. heat rose to his cheeks and the tip of his ears, showcasing a pink hue that he was embarrassed to let you see.

sure, your friends loved to giggle about how good you and bokuto looked together or how you two were basically soulmates because you shared the same music taste and movie favorites. and you two would shyly refuse, believing that you were simply friends. right?

but nothing would’ve prepared bokuto to hear something so bold come out of your mouth. wasn’t he supposed to be the bold one? but why was he suddenly the one being flustered and feeling knots grow in his stomach?

you shook your head profusely. “shut up taro. not like that, what i mean is that my parents think i have a boyfriend to bring home this break—which obviously i do not.” you placed your hands together and pouted, “so please be my fake boyfriend.”

the boy scratched the back of his head in confusion. “wait, why exactly do your parents think you, of all people, have a boyfriend? and besides, why can’t you just say you don’t?” questioned bokuto.

he was right. you were never really adept at dating, and who knows why your parents fell for your silly lie but you knew one thing for sure: if you didn’t go to the family reunion with a boyfriend, you would be disowned by your entire family.

“well it started with a small lie— for a good reason of course! see, we have a family reunion around this time, but my snotty cousin loves to show off every year and i was fed up.” you huffed and rolled your eyes just at the thought of her, “so i told my parents that my boyfriend and i had a date planned for that day so i couldn’t go, but no. they refused to let me miss it and insisted on introducing him. now i have to see my annoying cousin again and bring my nonexistent boyfriend.” you sighed heavily and threw your arms up in frustration.

“okay. i’ll do it. but first, you have to tell me why you picked me.” he crossed his arms and stuck his nose up, waiting for your response. ah, it was bokuto’s daily need for validation that you were expecting.

“you’re obviously the best candidate to not only make my parents proud of me but also to rub it in my cousin’s face. i mean who else can i bring that was one of the top 5 aces in the nation, now part of the msby black jackals and just as scrumptiously fine and hot as y–“ bokuto’s eyes widened at your last statement and his hand quickly went to cover your mouth. you almost doubled over in laughter, shy bokuto was a rare sight so this was quite enjoyable to watch.

he laughed nervously, “woaaah, okay i get it now. thank you y/n....or should i say girlfriend.” winked bokuto. though it came off as a joke he could feel his heart race so fast that he felt like he was high on cloud nine, a feeling foreign till now.

desperately seeking a breath of fresh air from the situation, bokuto scrambled to gather his books and bid a short farewell but not before giving you an awkward pat on the head and a high-five. yes, a high five.

“bye y/n!” smiled bokuto, dashing out of the library like it was a 100 meter race.

but bokuto failed to realize that his exuberant heart seemed to beat in rhythm with someone else’s, yours.

your two years of friendship seemed to suffice for a decent cover story, or so you thought. but once you stepped foot onto the front lawn of your home, the growing tighteness in your chest would say otherwise.

maybe this wasn’t a good idea.

your mind was spiraling out of control causing you to be paralyzed with a million thoughts on your mind.

“earth to y/n— are you okay?” asked bokuto. he waved his hand in front of your face, snapping you out of your frozen state.

“i-i think i’m stupid for thinking i could pull of this crazy plan. maybe you should just go home kou,” you admited. your eyes wouldn’t dare look into his eyes, instead redirecting your attention on the hem of your sweater.

bokuto wasn’t a quitter and he sure as hell wasn’t going to let you go into there alone. he grabbed your hand and gave it a small squeeze, his other hand raising your chin up.

“i’m not letting you admit defeat, y/n. besides, i’m wearing the perfect sweater.” beamed bokuto.

“sweater?” you puzzled. “check it out, it’s made out of boyfriend material.” he joked, earning a simple smile out of you and washing away your doubts.

you couldn’t help but marvel at the look of pure determination on his face. you’ve seen it plenty of times, mostly during tough volleyball games. the way you could look into his eyes and see a fire set ablaze made you feel strong and fearless. bokuto just had that effect on people. without a second thought, one hand interwined with bokuto’s, you pushed open the door.

unfortunately, your rush of adrenaline was cut short by the disgusting sight of your cousin, chiyo. her eyes immediately landed on you but soon shifted over to the mysterious attractive man to your left.

chiyo was vile, cruel, judgemental, rude, bossy, selfish and the list goes on. since you were children, she made it her life goal to be better than you in everything. you were usually able to tolerate her childish attempts to make you feel inferior but ever since she got an internship with alexander wang while you were still stuck in college, she just couldn’t stop tearing apart your life.

“oh my, look who it is. hello y/n, is this your friend?” questioned chiyo, her eyes running bokuto up and down like tiger finding her next prey.

oblivious to her true intentions, he offered her his usual friendly smile. you rolled your eyes, anger stirring deep within you.

you wrap your arms around bokuto’s waist and lovingly rest your head onto his chest.

still in his embrace, you turn your head to face chiyo again “no, this is my boyfriend bokuto. but i don’t think i see your boyfriend, is he around?” you retorted. chiyo gasped in response, and after failing to find a snarky rebuttal she stomped away in annoyance.

while cheers of victory rang through your head, you peered up at bokuto. “did you see that taro? we really showed her” you laughed.

but bokuto didn’t laugh. he nodded trying to keep his calm but inside he was screaming hysterically. he felt like absolute jelly in your touch, wondering why he wanted to play this role forever.

“come on, you should meet my little cousins!” you say as you drag him to the backyard.

needless to say, the kids absolutely adored him.

“hey hey hey!” boomed bokuto, his voice resonating through the yard and catching the attention of the horde of children.

your five year old cousin yuta gaped at his towering height “woahhh mister— you’re a giant!” another boy began climbing his body, tugging at his white-grey streaked hair, causing bokuto to yelp in pain.

it was a sight that made your heart swell with happiness. the way bokuto sat on the grass, surrounded by children ooo-ing and ah-ing at his stories while he showcased a huge grin made you appreciate the little things. and of course you just had to snapping a quick picture of bokuto before he could even notice. after the initial excitement died down, he returned to your side with the same grin painted on his face.

“excuse me, y/n-chan. is that your husband?” a tiny voice whispered, tugging at the hem of your cyan-colored sweater. the girl, small and doe-eyed, pointed a shy finger towards the boy.

oh my god. you were mortified, completely frozen in your spot. you couldn’t believe she just said that, why would she say that? suddenly you hated children. but at that moment you just desperately wanted the earth to open up and swallow you whole.

before you could awkwardly announce that he was just your boyfriend, bokuto already had the situation under control. he placed one knee on the grass, now eye-level to the girl. with a hearty laugh he said “not yet...but would you like to be a flower girl at our wedding?” the girl’s eyes lit up with pure bliss, nodding her head aggressively to his suggestion.

for a split second, you thought bokuto deserved an oscar for his exceptional acting skills.

because at that moment, you were beginning to fall for him, wondering if one day you would be lucky enough to walk down the aisle to meet a teary-eyed bokuto at the altar.

“oh y/n i’m so happy you’re dating bokuto!!” your mother exclaimed, clapping her hands together at the dinner table.

you’ve been dreading dinner time the entire day, and of course your mother just had to prove your point exactly.

“y/n has always been gushing over him, i’m so glad she finally made a move— how did you two finally get together?” your mother questioned, placing her chopsticks down, leaning forward to give you her full attention. the rest of your family turned their heads towards you and eagerly waited for your response as they continued eating.

“oh, i-um” you stuttered. why didn’t you prepare more? you thought, mentally facepalming your poor decisions.

luckily, bokuto interrupted, “actually i confessed first, at my last game..” he offered you a small smile, and placed his hand over yours. it was a gesture that made you let go off the breath you were holding, it meant “i got this.”

“i thought she was perfect from the first time we met..”

you laughed. what a lie. the first time you met bokuto was far from elegant. you still remember it vividly, you standing on the sidelines chatting with kageyama when suddenly bokuto’s hard serve accidentally hits you in the back of the head. lets just say you weren’t exactly pleased to meet the perpetrator.

“and i thought she hated at first. we had mutual friends so we hung out more, and the more i got to spend time with her, the more i fell for her. i loved how she greeted me with a congratulatory hug after every match or how she would constantly sends me random songs that reminded her of me. i’m glad she’s mine..” professed bokuto.

he had the entire room swooning over every word, the story stringing together like it came straight out of your typical romantic movie.

oh how you wished bokuto wasn’t such a good actor. you wished he was the terrible fake boyfriend that all the kids loathed. you wished he was the terrible fake boyfriend that your mom didn’t look at with complete and utter adoration. you wished he was the terrible boyfriend that didn’t make your entire world stop on its axis with one look, one touch or one word.

falling in love with bokuto kotarou was easy; it’s admitting to yourself that it happened that was hard.

“mind if i join you?” asked bokuto.

after a long and tiring dinner, you decided to lay down outside, gazing at the blanket of stars that lit up the pitch black sky.

you longed for peace and quiet, away from your crazy family and your fake boyfriend. but you couldn’t escape from the feelings you harbored for bokuto.

“no.” you said, not daring to even glance at him. he laid down beside you, so close that his warmth radiated and his hand lightly grazed yours. silence filled the air, begging someone to say something, anything.

“thank you taro.” you whispered. “you’re suprisingly a good actor.”

“you ever heard of method acting?” he asked. you shake your head in confusion and he continues,”its when an actor completely embraces his role by developing sincere and genuine emotions..”

he sat up abruptly, diverting his gaze from the stars to your face, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. his fingers lace through yours, your hearts thumping joyfully in a familiar unison.

“what i mean is— acting isn’t hard when it’s real. none of my feelings were fake” expressed bokuto. “i don’t wanna be the fake boyfriend anymore.”

and for once, neither you or bokuto question your feelings, everything became so clear.

“because, frankly, i think our hands fit perfectly and i wouldn’t mind holding yours forever.”

[cancerbiophd]

How I landed an industry job straight out of my life sciences PhD, without doing a post-doc 

In less than 7 weeks I’ll be defending my dissertation as a final step in my PhD in Cancer Biology, and yesterday I accepted a Scientist position at a local biotechnology company. And best part: I didn’t have to do the dreaded post-doc first! Which is pretty rare for our field (but I hope it’ll be more and more common for PhD’s going into industry).

I promised I would talk about the process here, and I hope that anyone who’s aiming for the same path can walk away with some tips or at least with a familiarity of the process. 

The main points I want to get across: 

Network network network. You can probably just stop reading here, because this job came about all through networking. I was basically head-hunted--someone in my network (a program alumnus) contacted me on LinkedIn to ask if I wanted to apply for a position on the team she directs. So set up your LinkedIn account, keep it up to date, and use it to actively network. At the very least you should connect with the alumni in your program as you all have something in common already, and since they’re out and about in the field they would be great resources for informational interviews and job referrals. 

My expertise and career goals matched the position. No brainer, of course. Even if I wasn’t contacted by the company, I would only be applying to companies I qualified for (so companies dealing with cancer since I’m my PhD is in Cancer Bio). My lab mate, for example, was finishing up his PhD in Nutritional Sciences but was applying to cancer companies with no result, because it just wasn’t the candidate those companies were looking for. My expertise was also probably what got that director’s attention in the first place and the reason she reached out. She was basically willing to wait 7 months for me (from job posting to my final start-date) because I was her ideal candidate, and not just based off my expertise alone, but our personalities matched too. She told me “we communicate well” aka our work personalities match. I know you can’t change who you are obviously, but getting along with your manager goes a long way. 

That being said, employers/PIs are flexible with start dates for PhD candidates. I applied to this position 6 months before I had my defense date set and when I only knew a ballpark of “sometime in the summer”. And then during my interview process I had to keep pushing that potential start-date back and back and back. But the company understood this. So as a PhD candidate you could start applying 6 months before your expected end-date (even if it’s still a moving target), or even months earlier for post-docs (which are much more flexible than industry positions). In general, you should start looking 1 year before your finish date to see what’s out there. 

It was also good luck/timing. If I had graduated earlier than the job posting, then I never would’ve had this opportunity. I also only added her to my LinkedIn network because I went to a lunch seminar where she gave a talk about working in industry. So small things that ultimately made a huge difference. Some you can’t control, but some (like going to that lunch) are definitely  opportunities to seize. 

I was low “flight risk”. Companies are always afraid their employees will leave the company/city for greener pastures, and that’s more common in “less popular” places to live, like the southwest desert where I’m located. But I’m from here, my grad school is here, my family’s here--so the company is making the assumption I’m not going to just up and go any time soon. You obviously can’t control where your family chooses to settle down, but you may be able to strategically choose your grad school based off of its proximity to potential companies. 

And lastly, in my experience, PhD’s with no post-doc in biotech industry should expect an annual salary somewhere between $75-95k (depending on the company and cost of living), with benefits.

Ok, my full story under cut if you’d like to know more about the process I went through:

It all started when a program alumnus (or alumna, if you’re picky about your latin) named RF talked at a lunch seminar to students in my program in Feb 2019. I was really interested in her company and knew she would be a great network to have, so I emailed her later to thank her, and then added her on LinkedIn. 

Fast forward to January of this year (2020) when RF messaged me on LinkedIn out of the blue asking me how close I was to graduating and if I would be interested in a position at her company. I think she wanted someone asap (so not me, I thought), but we talked more about my project, and she said she’d keep in touch. In February, she messaged me again saying a position opened up on her team and she wanted to see if I would like to apply. I said heck yes (or the more formal version), and sent in my application, with the expectation that I would be defending sometime in the summer. I also put her as my job referral and messaged her afterwards to let her know my application went through (with the hopes that maybe she could fast-track it through HR, which I think she did). 

In the meantime, I messaged (also on LinkedIn) another program alumnus I knew (our time overlapped a few years) who currently works with RF and we chatted on the phone about what he does at work, how he likes it there, etc. Basically an informational interview (and also to catch up as colleagues). I was also hoping he’d put in a good word for me with RF and can attest I’m a decent human being and all that. 

2 weeks later, I had a phone interview with RF, and I was super nervous going into it. I even practiced pages and pages of answers of common interview questions for a week straight. But to my surprise she opened the call with “I already know a lot about you from your CV, LinkedIn profile, and also your PhD training because we’re from the same program, so this is your chance to ask me questions!” And I was like, uhhhh awesome! The only thing she wanted to know about me was when I could start, and at that moment in time I was gunning for a July/Aug defense date. 

(I also emailed her and HR afterwards to ask them whether they could match my salary expectation, which I had researched well beforehand for what was common in the field for my position and experience, and they said they could.)

We then set up the next round of interviews for April with a colleague of RF’s who used to be in the same team but now directs her own, and RF’s boss (these would have normally been on-site, but I did them over the phone bc Covid). I again messaged my friend at the company asking if he had any tips. 

And then disaster struck! The company’s HR called me a week before those scheduled interviews to tell me the company had ordered a hiring freeze due to Covid and the effect it was having on the economy. Absolute bummer :( :( :(

So I then applied for a few more positions here and there, including some post-docs (which I really didn’t want to do). I got 2 rounds of interviews for a Scientist position at another local company, and as of today I still haven’t heard anything from them. oh well. 

Then in June I finally heard back from RF’s company saying the hiring freeze has been lifted and whether I’m still interested? Uh, heck yes! So we continued with those 2 phone interviews I had originally scheduled back in April. They both went really well. But I still continued to apply to other positions in the meantime because I wanted to have as many options as I could. 

Then 2 weeks ago (July 7) I got THE call: they wanted to offer me the position! :D

Only problem was, we needed to settle on a start-date. They of course wanted me to start like, yesterday, but my PI wanted to push back my original defense date of Aug 28 one more week to Sept 4, and also wanted me to focus on any dissertation edits for 2 weeks after that. So my earliest start-date would be Sept 21. If you remember, my defense date shifted from “sometime in the summer” to “July/August” to now September, so I was really worried the company wouldn’t accept this. I nervously waited 2 weeks for someone to call me back, and in my head I kept thinking, “I blew it I blew it”. I even sent in a job application to another company in that time. 

But RF finally called me and said hey, no problem, we can do that! She told me she was willing to wait because I really was her perfect candidate (I had all the experience she wanted, and she said we communicated well aka our work-personalities matched). She had also just recently hired another graduate from our program, who is also a friend of mine, so she knew we would all mesh together very nicely. 

And that’s the story folks! I’ll be starting the position remotely until it’s safe to return to the building again. They’re also working with my husband to see if he’s a good candidate for some of their other open positions (we’re both in the biotech field). We’re both super excited about this new chapter in our lives. 

All this because I attended the lunch seminar RF talked at all last year and then added her on LinkedIn. When people talk about opportunities lurking behind every corner, they really did mean that. 

[seulgiology]

when you smile | bae joohyun

pairings: wife!irene x wife!female reader

words: 1.1k

genre: a lil angsty fluff

synopsis: “hello! I am craving some massive fluff so can I request a wedding day scenario with irene? Her being nervous and the girls having to calm her down and all that shit? Thanks in advance if you do it <3” ~ request

warnings: cursing, mentions of sex, crying, nervousness, overall a kinda angsty situation 

a/n: yer yer , admin 1 here :3 this is what the dress looks like, scroll on the website to see more references. hey guys, admin 2 is gonna be a lil inactive probably cause she’s working on pink ferrari !

disclaimer: This is a work of fiction from our imagination. It is not intended that the plot, theme, original characters, idols, etc. portray any real-life events/people. Plagiarism is NOT tolerated on this blog. If you believe we have copied an existing authors’ work, please message us privately. Thank you and enjoy :)

—

She gulped down the heavy lump in her throat, trying to stay still as the makeup artist added the sheen champagne-colored eyeshadow.

Her favorite BoA songs were playing in the background. But the only thing playing in her head was the intrusive thoughts she wishes she didn’t have.

Not on her wedding day.

“Irene, I finally found it! You wouldn’t believe who had it.” The perky sound of her bandmate, Sooyoung, could be heard as she stepped inside the cosmetics room.

She looked beautiful in her beige-colored bridesmaid dress. The bride gave her a tight-lipped smile and moved her newly styled hair out of the way so the piece of jewelry could be clasped around her neck.

Sooyoung took a step back and sighed a satisfied sigh. The choker-like necklace had white pearls as the straps with a sparkly pendant situated at the center, giving the perfect vintage look.

But a frown quickly overtook her features as a distressed and troubled look overcame her friend's delicate face.

The bridesmaid gently reached down and squatted face-to-face with the older woman she’s been working with for several years.  Making eye contact with the other, she tried to silence the hiccups that made their way up.

“Joohyun-Unnie, it’s ok to be scared.”

Those were the things she needed to hear for her to begin sniffling.

Someone signaled for everyone to leave the room, leaving only three other women to stay behind.

The rest of her beloved and gorgeous members crowded around to check on their leader. Their youngest brought her up and sat her down in the comfortable chaise towards the back of the room, continuing holding her hand even after they sat down.

“I just- I can’t even describe the love I have for that girl. And there’s nothing more I want then to be with her for the rest of my hectic life.” She started, looking up towards the ceiling to try not to let her tears ruin the quality makeup the artists worked on.

She gave a watery hiccuped that shook her body, thinking about the shit that her wife is going to have to go through. She felt herself being pulled into a group hug by her other members, comforting words being gifted to her in the best way possible.

“The media hates her, my family but my dad disapproves approves of our relationship. I don’t want to put her through it anymore.” The uncontrollable tears began to free fall, the pressure of her love-life taking a toll.

“Joohyun, look at me,” The most stable of all, Seulgi, softly held her chin and tilted it towards her direction.

She was a sight to behold as the tears streaked her face and a hopeless looked shined in her tears eyes.

“Why do you think you’re here right now, honey? That’s because Y/N wants to be with you. She’s willing to face the backlash, the hate, the sacrifices with you.” The whispered words crept in her mind, slowly overlaying her doubts.

She let the words of comfort creep their way through her being, knowing the words being preached to her were right.

“Yeah, and, ReVeluv’s are all for it. The GP might love a controversy here and there, but that’s not what matters right now. What matters is that you’re getting pussy for the rest of your life.” Yerim commented, a humorous smile adorning her face.

Even that one.

“You can always count on Yerim to say some bullshit like that,” Their main vocalist stated as she lightly bumped the youngest.

As she laughed, the tears dried on her cheeks. One of the few genuine smiles she pulled today.

“Ah, there’s that pretty smile. Why were you hiding it for so long huh?” Sooyoung said snapping a quick picture of the candid moment.

The stars couldn’t have aligned for anybody but the five of them to meet as one. — The delicate ivory tulle dress hung loosely on Irene’s body. It’s elegant flow and puffy sleeves design made her feel like a fairy in an enchanted forest.

The people attending to her makeup and hair weren’t as upset and quickly touched it up before she was fitted in her gown.

She took a deep breath, holding tightly onto her father's arm and the peony bouquet in her other arm.

“I’m happy for you, Joohyun-Ah. Let’s hope this marriage isn’t another strict contract.” He jestered playfully.

“You’re really funny you know that?” They chuckled lightly together.

“Don’t forget to smile, okay?”

She never got the chance to smile as the big and ominous doors awaited her destiny.

And there you were, watching the love of your eternity gliding down the aisle like the angel she is. The way the light caught her dress made her look absolutely heavenly. Your cheeks hurt, and your heart burned with an undying love for the woman coming towards you.

She lightly bowed towards her comrades that worked with her. One of her long time friends, Johnny, and his group gave you thumbs up and discreet finger hearts.

When she finally stood in front of you, you really couldn’t breathe. You didn’t believe in that cheesy phrase “as time stood still,” but shit, you wish it did.

Neither of you was the religious type, so instead of a priest speaking, you kindly asked her esteemed friend, Jennie, to do the honors.

It was a hilarious mess when the poor young woman called for any objections, and all of her bandmates declared they loved her first.

“YOU’LL ALWAYS BE OUR PERFECT 10 IRENE!”

If that didn’t make her want to cry of happiness and joy even more, then the end of your vows would surely leave her a sobbing mess.

“I pledge to remain your companion and friend, I promise to be with you always, to care for you, and to love you no matter how far apart we may be. I will always show an interest in the things you do and your ideas. I will be with you in your heart, and keep you safely in mine. When you are happy, I will be happy with you. When you are sad, I will make you smile. I swear it on my soul it’s so beautiful when you smile,”

Her hands tightened in yours as she held back sobs and tried to keep her composure.

“I will encourage you to continue growing as an individual as we work toward our mutual goals. Things are hard right now, but we'll get through this together. It's okay to step back and breathe. I stand with you as your best friend and wife and acknowledge that your choices are valid ones. I promise to give you love, honesty, trust, and commitment, and, in general, keep your life more interesting and chaotic than NCT 127s music, as we grow old and beyond. I love you, Joohyun.”

She trembled in the overwhelming feeling of yearning as she looked into your intense eyes. All she can see is promise and unconditional love.

“You know I love you more, Y/N.”

With the seal of a delicate kiss of plush lips pressed against each other and arms pulling her in tight, dress against dress, she knew she could overcome anything with you by her side.

[myonechicagoworld]

CHICAGO FIRE – PROFESSIONAL COURTESY (S01E03)

TV: [applause] And now, for my next…

Christopher Herrmann: [chuckles]

                                              [door opens]

Mouch: What the hell just happened?

Christopher Herrmann: [sighs] [buttons on remote clicking]

                                         Ah, damn thing’s fried. 

Peter Mills: Two hours left in the shift and no calls yet. That happen 

                     very often?

Christopher Herrmann: He did not just say that. 

                                      [alarm blasts, PA buzzes]

(Over PA): Accident. Truck 81, Squad 3.

                                             [sirens wailing]

                                            [horns honking]

Matt Casey: Mills. Pitcher’s got a no-hitter going in the eight inning. 

                      Do you go up to him and say, “looks like you got a 

                      no-hitter going”?

Peter Mills: No, but…

Matt Casey: Don’t do it at the damn firehouse either.

Peter Mills: Yeah, I got it.

                                         [door slams shut]

Matt Casey: Stabilise the van!

Patrol Officer 1: It’s jammed.

                                          [metal creaking]

Christopher Herrmann: Anybody got ejected?

                                        Vargas, see if we got a pulse over there!

Jose Vargas: Got one here!

Justin Voight: I’m okay. I’m alright.

Matt Casey: Ugh! Field test this idiot. 

                      [sniffs] Open containers right there.

Patrol Officer 1: I’ll take care of it.

Firefighter: She’s going! She’s going!

                                           [sirens wailing]

Patrol Officer 1: What happened?

Kelly Severide: Stabilisers!

Matt Casey: Cribbing! 

Gabby Dawson: Let’s go.

Kelly Severide: Give us ten more seconds, boys.

Christopher Herrmann: [groans] You got eight.

Kelly Severide: Hey, sir, just sit tight there for me, all right? Don’t   

                          try and unbuckle yourself.

Victim 1/Dad: Is he all right? My son? He’s not saying anything.

Gabby Dawson: Yeah, he’s alive, sir.

Victim 1/Dad: Oh, thank God.

Leslie Shay: We’re gonna need a second ambo.

Matt Casey: Two more! 

                      Driver of the first car over there.

                      I need two backboards.

Kelly Severide: Where’s those jaws?

                           Unh! [groans]

                                              [jaws buzzing]

                                            [metal clashing]

Gabby Dawson: Too tight?

Victim 1/Dad: Yeah!

Kelly Severide: Ah, we’re gonna go through the windshield and get 

                          me a pick head.

Firefighter: Coming up.

Victim 2/Son: What happened?

Matt Casey: You’re gonna be okay, buddy. Hockey fan, huh?

Victim 1/Dad: We were headed to Evanston for his tournament.

                         Are you okay, Mikey?

Victim 2/Son (Mikey): [whimpers] Yeah, I think so.

                                     What happened?

                                          [glass smashing]

                                            [saw sputters] 

                               [sirens wailing in the distance]

Firefighter: Vehicle stabilised

Matt Casey: I’ll be right back

Kelly Severide: Sir, you’re coming out first, all right?

Victim 1/Dad: [groans]

                                            [sirens wailing]

Matt Casey: Where’s the driver?

Patrol Officer 1: Uh, some officers took him to the hospital.

Matt Casey: You’re kidding. 

Patrol Officer 1: No, he was complaining of leg pain, and you guys 

                            looked swamped over there, so…

Matt Casey: He should’ve been c-collared and transported properly.

Patrol Officer 1: My bad.

Matt Casey: Did you bag the beer cans?

Patrol Officer 1: [sighs] Look, Detective Voight…behind me, the  

                            guy in the jacket…that was his son driving this 

                            car.

                                  [siren wailing in the distance]

                                           [dramatic music]

                                            - Title Screen -

Leslie Shay: Hey, you want some coffee?

Kelly Severide: No, I’m gonna go hit the gym. I’ll see you at the 

                          firehouse.

Leslie Shay: Alright, how’s your arm?

Kelly Severide: It’s good. 

                          It’s fine.

Leslie Shay: Alright. Well, you should get it looked at, you know, 

                     Kelly? It could act up at the wrong time.

Kelly Severide: No, absolutely. I’m…I’m planning on doing that.

                           Alright, I’ll see you later.

Leslie Shay: Bye.

                                                  cutscene

Peter Mills: Here we go

Man 1: Dude, uh, I’m sorry, but I ordered crispy bacon and uh, this 

             [scoffs]…ain’t crispy.

Man 2: Where’s the hot waitress? 

            [stammers] Uh, I mean you’re cute and everything.

Man 1 & 2: [laughs]

Peter Mills: I’ll be right back with your bacon…sir.

                                      [plates clanking]

                                        [food sizzling]

Peter Mills: [sighs] E-Elise, I can’t wait for mom. I gotta go.

Elise Mills: Then go!

Peter Mills: Table eight.

                                       [door bell chime]

Ingrid Mills: Where you going?

Peter Mills: [sighs] To work, mom. My real job.

Ingrid Mills: Well, Samantha just called in sick.

Elise Mills: Mom, I’ll cover it. We’ll be fine.

Ingrid Mills: You can switch shifts with somebody at the firehouse.

Peter Mills: Mom! I’m a candidate. You know that they can bounce  

                    me like that. I…I have to go.

Ingrid Mills: Fine. Go.

                                                  cutscene

                                    [siren wailing, horn honking]

Mouch: You’re late.

                                             [hammering]

                                           [metal clinking]

Peter Mills: [panting]

Firefighters: Uh hoh.

Christopher Herrmann: Good afternoon, candidate.

Peter Mills: [panting] Sorry.

Otis Zvonecek: First, he blows a no-hitter, now he’s coming in five  

                           minutes late. So much for employee of the week.

Peter Mills: It won’t happen again, [breathless] I promise.

Matt Casey: Get changed out. Let’s go.

Joe Cruz: You know, you were the candidate up until two weeks  

                  ago. Why are you riding him so hard?

Otis Zvonecek: The abused abuse…Cruz.

Matt Casey: Good morning.

Leslie Shay: Uh, oh. We’re either in trouble or he wants something.

Gabby Dawson: [chuckles]

Matt Casey: You got a sec?

Leslie Shay: Later.

Gabby Dawson: What’s up?

Matt Casey: Is your brother still working in Vice?

Gabby Dawson: Yeah.

Matt Casey: Could you see if he can swing by here real quick?

Gabby Dawson: Sure.

                             All your hookers get locked up last night?

Matt Casey: Yeah, my whole stable.

Gabby Dawson: [giggles]

Matt Casey: I just got a question for him.

Gabby Dawson: Err, yeah, I’ll give him a call.

Matt Casey: Okay.

Gabby Dawson: Everything alright?

Matt Casey: Yeah, yeah.

Gabby Dawson: O…kay.

                                                  cutscene

                                         [locker door slams]

Jose Vargas: Hey Lieutenant. 

Kelly Severide: Hey.

Jose Vargas: Wanted to let you know that I just completed the last  

                        of my tech course and I reached my squad 

                        certification.

Kelly Severide: That’s great. Good job.

Jose Vargas: Yeah, three years busting my hump, but I got it done.  

                        So I’m putting in a transfer from truck and I wanted  

                        to get your blessing.

Kelly Severide: Why do you wanna come over to squad?

Jose Vargas: With where I wanna end up, squad’s the best place   

                       in terms of a stepping stone to getting promoted. 

Kelly Severide: Let me stop you right there, Vargas. If that’s your  

                           reason for coming over…

Jose Vargas: It ain’t! That…that…that came out wrong. 

                       The promotion stuff, that’s down the road.

Kelly Severide: It’s way down the road.

Jose Vargas: Absolutely.

                                                cutscene

Joe Cruz: That ain’t gonna cut it.

Mouch: Sign’s out front. Just a matter of time till a good Samaritan 

              steps up.

Peter Mills: We can do that?

Mouch: Oh yeah. It’s frowned upon, but it’s not illegal per   

              standards and procedures.

              Last year, we got the new…what was it?

Christopher Hermann: Microwave.

Mouch: Got the new microwave by doing this.

Joe Cruz: It took three months to get the new microwave. The  

                 Bears game is this Sunday.

Matt Casey: What we got in the treasury box?

Christopher Heremann: Dick. We spent it all on the elliptical  

                                         machine so Shay could keep her ass 

                                         toned.

Leslie Shay: Oh Herrmann, please. Everyone benefits from me  

                     having a toned ass.

Matt Casey: Mills, you’re in charge of a fundraiser for a new TV. 

Peter Mills: Instead of cooking?

Matt Casey: In conjunction with cooking. 

Otis Zvonecek: I believe it’s called multitasking. And get some 

                           ideas together ASAP.

Gabby Dawson: Casey.

                                                   cutscene

Kelly Severide: He in?

Nicki Rutkowski: On the phone. You can leave it with me, though.

                              Hey, um…tomorrow night, I don’t know if you  

                              have plans but uh, me and some girlfriends are  

                              going to see Kaskade at the Vic if you’re

                              interested?

Kelly Severide: What’s Kaskade?

Nicki Rutkowski: Oh, He’s a DJ…famous one.

Kelly Severide: Yeah, um…look, I’m not really known for my 

                           self-restraint… 

Nicki Rutkowski: [giggles]

Kelly Severide: So I’ll need you to meet me halfway here and  

                           respect Boden and your dad’s wishes.

                                                     cutscene

Matt Casey: Who wants to be known as the rat fireman who took 

                      down a cop’s kid?

Antonio Dawson: What’s the cop’s name?

Matt Casey: Detective Voight.

Antonio Dawson: Aye yi.

Gabby Dawson: What’s the problem?

Antonio Dawson: Voight’s been hip-deep in the Gang Unit for 15  

                               years. He’s been investigated for taking bribes 

                               and…Look, he’s a dirty cop – the kind of guy  

                               that gives the rest of us a bad name.

Matt Casey: Okay. Well I saw what I saw.

                      The question is…did anyone else see it?

Antonio Dawson: I’ll ask around, put some feelers out. Wait to   

                              hear from me. ‘Cause I’m telling you as a friend  

                              of my sister’s, you do not want to mess with this 

                              dude.

Nicki Rutkowski: Lieutenant Casey! Chief wants to see you in his 

                              office.

Matt Casey: Okay, whatever you can do, I’d appreciate it.

Antonio Dawson: How long you been dating this guy?

Gabby Dawson: What [chuckles]…Antonio, what are you…Where  

                            do you come up with this  stuff? You’re trippin’. 

                             I’m not…I’m…He’s taken.

Antonio Dawson: Ah.

Gabby Dawson: So…

Antonio Dawson: All right, well, I’ll be in touch.

Dawson siblings: [fistbump]

Gabby Dawson: Hey, you being straight with him?

Antonio Dawson: If anything, I downplayed it. Your boy’s messing  

                              with a stick of dynamite.

Gabby Dawson: Then do your job and help him out.

                                                cutscene

Chief Boden: Incident report from that t-bone last shift. I got 

                       Severide’s. Where’s yours?

Matt Casey: Right, I’ve been buried in paperwork, and…

Chief Boden: [raps on desk] On my desk by the end of this shift. 

                       That gonna be a problem?

Matt Casey: Not at all.

                                         [dramatic music]

                                              cutscene

Peter Mills: A neighbourhood hotdog eating contest.

Mouch: Ah, too tacky.

Leslie Shay: And putting a sign out front begging for a TV is what?

Peter Mills: Okay.

Otis Zvonecek: He’s got a point.

Peter Mills: How about a t-shirt booth in the driveway?

Joe Cruz: We already sell t-shirts. 

Peter Mills: Yeah but I mean no one can ever find the key to the  

                     cabinet, Herrmann never has change in the treasury 

                     box. 

                     It’s a pain in the ass, so…we put the shirts out front  

                     and display ‘em properly.

Mouch: I don’t know how that’s gonna generate enough 

Peter Mills: And!

Mouch: Money… 

Peter Mills: And we get Nicki to man the booth.

Christopher Herrmann: Ding. Done. 

Joe Cruz: That is called putting it over the goal line, Peter Mills. 

Joe Cruz & Peter Mills: [fistbump]

Leslie Shay: Why don’t you put her in a bikini while you’re at it?

Otis Zvonecek: Before I respond, are you joking or are you serious?

Leslie Shay: About as serious as putting you in a bikini.

Otis Zvonecek: That’s what I thought.

                           So yes, a bikini would be ridiculous, and we get  

                            the joke.

Joe Cruz: [laughs] Hey, what do you think, Casey, t-shirt stand? 

Otis Zvonecek: Or should we have Mills here run a few laps   

                           around the block, think about some 

                           alternatives?

Matt Casey: Everybody on the floor. Gonna do a drill.

                      Mills, listen up. This is a downed firefighter 

                      assessment. Fellow firefighter’s gonna be on the   

                      floor, full gear with his pass alarm going off. You crawl

                      in from 10 feet away, deactivate his alarm, check for    

                      air flow, call in a mayday on your radio, and drag the   

                      victim to the extraction point, which will be…

                      north gate.

Peter Mills: Okay [chuckles].

Matt Casey: But with a blacked-out face mask to simulate zero 

                      visibility.

Otis Zvonecek: [laughs]

Peter Mills: Okay.

Otis Zvonecek: No showing up late to this one, candidate. Ah? 

                           [laughs]

Matt Casey: I got two masks. 

                                              [laughter]

Matt Casey: Slowest time has to mop the apparatus floor.

                      Time him.

Jose Vargas: Let’s go, gentlemen. Gear up.

Matt Casey: Hey, Hal. What’s going on? 

Hallie Thomas: Lunch break. You eaten yet?

Matt Casey: No. Come on.

Hallie Thomas: Hey, Gabriela.

Gabby Dawson: Hey, Hallie. 

                            Good seeing you.

Hallie Thomas: You too.

Nicki Rutkowski: Hey, this came in for you earlier.

Kelly Severide: Thanks.

                                          cutscene

                                     [water running]

Gabby Dawson: You look pleased with yourself. 

Peter Mills: Uh, downed firefighter assessment. New house record.

Gabby Dawson: Oh yeah? How’s Otis taking it?

Peter Mills: I don’t know. But the floor was looking pretty dirty, so…

Gabby Dawson: Is that a little cockiness I sense there, Peter Mills?

Peter Mills: It ain’t being cocky if you can back it up.

Gabby Dawson: Oh really? Well a lot of candidates with skills get  

                            their day in the sun, but how they handle  

                            themselves the other 364…that’s what keeps 

                            them around.

Peter Mills: I will take that under advisement. 

                                                cutscene

Hallie Thomas: What happened to the passengers in the other car?

Matt Casey: I don’t know. They were alert when we got ‘em  

                      backboarded and into the ambos. It was a dad and 

                      his son.

Hallie Thomas: What was the last name?

Matt Casey: Duffy.

Hallie Thomas: The son’s 16? On his way to a hockey tournament? 

Matt Casey: Yeah. You heard something?

Hallie Thomas: Baby… 

Matt Casey: What? Just…tell me.

Hallie Thomas: It’s a complete L2 fracture. He’s paralysed…waist 

                          down. 

Mouch: We just got a TV donated. Flat screen, still in the box. Cop  

              over at the 35th precinct donated it. 

                                                    cutscene

Firefighter: Beautiful. 

                                                     [claps]

All: Yeah! 

All: Whoo!

                                         [cheering & applause]

Otis Zvonecek: Oh yeah, baby! 

All: Whoo! Beautiful! 

Mouch: Oh, ho, hoh! Yeah! [claps]

Matt Casey: Who’s it from?

Delivery guy: Detective Voight. He, uh, saw your sign.

Otis Zvonecek: Is that a 40-inch?

Delivery guy: A 43! 

Otis Zvonecek: [chuckling] Oh, ho, God damn. 

All: Whoo!

                                [murmuring & indistinct chatter]

Matt Casey: Take it back.

Delivery guy: Nah, nah, nah. Don’t worry, Voight went through all

                       the channels; said to donate it to the city, but  

                       specified it come here. So the bureau bitches aren’t 

                       gonna freak out.

Matt Casey: Send it back.

Delivery guy: Sure, you got it.

Chief Boden: Is there something you need to bring me in on?

Matt Casey: Yeah.

                                          [keypad beeping]

                                             [door shuts]

Nicki Rutkowski: E-vites are so impersonal.

                             Leave it on.

Kelly Severide: Girl, you are barking up the wrong tree.

Nicki Rutkowski: Yeah? Prove it.

                                [alarm whoops, PA buzzes]

(Over PA): Jumper. Squad 3, Truck 81, Ambulance 61.

                                              cutscene

                                         [sirens wailing]

Gabby Dawson: Still alive?

Patrol Officer 2: Yeah, but if he wanted to be dead before, I  

                             guarantee he wants it now.

Peter Mills: How high?

Patrol Officer 2: Fourth floor.

Leslie Shay: I’ll call ahead to St. Mary’s; Have ‘em prep for spinal 

                     trauma, multiple broken bones.

Patrol Officer 2: It’s not like that. Poor bastard impaled himself.

Victim 3: [breathing heavily] [breathing quivering]

Christopher Herrmann: Holy smokes.

                                [sirens wailing & horn honking]

                                             [door shuts]

                                       [indistinctive chatter]

Leslie Shay: We got a pulse.

Matt Casey: We need two ladders and a rope bag.

Gabby Dawson: You pull him off; he bleeds out right here, right 

                            now. 

Matt Casey: Chief?

Chief Boden: Get the k-12, we’re cutting him down.

                                          [k-12 buzzing]

Chief Boden: Pump some water on that steel so it doesn’t overheat!

Gabby Dawson: He’s gonna arrest.

Kelly Severide: Talk to the saw, not me.

                                         [water spraying]

Peter Mills: You’ll be alright, just try and stand still!

Leslie Shay: He can’t hear you! He’s in shock!

                                          [k-12 buzzing]

Kelly Severide: Hold that.

                                     [k-12 sputters to life]

Kelly Severide: Alright, get ready. He’s coming down.

Jose Vargas: Three, two, one. 

                       Everybody good?

All: Yeah. We’re good.

Leslie Shay: Watch this, watch this.

Firefighter: Got it, got it, got it. 

Leslie Shay: Hey, whoa. 

Gabby Dawson: He’s going into v-fib. We gotta pull the fence.

Christopher Herrmann: What happened to “we pull it he dies”?

Gabby Dawson: We gotta get his heart back on rhythm but there’s  

                             no way I’m shocking him till we get this iron out 

                             first.

Matt Casey: Severide.

Kelly Severide: Yo.

                           Unh! [grunts]

                                                [saw whirrs]

Matt Casey: Pull it away. 

                    Go.

Firefighter: Alright, hit it!

Leslie Shay: On me. 

                      Ready, pull!

                      One, two three! 

Gabby Dawson: Pull him out for me.

                            Okay, here we go.

                            Shocking at two, stand by.    

                            Clear.

                                           [electrical surge]

Gabby Dawson: Hitting him again at 360. Stand by.

                            Clear.

                                           [electrical surge]

Gabby Dawson: Rhythm. 

                            He’s got a pulse

Leslie Shay: Okay, get him in!

Gabby Dawson: 40 year old male, suicide attempt. Fell from four 

                            stories, impaled on a fence.

Doctor 1: You removed it on scene?

Gabby Dawson: He went into v-fib. I had to yank. Two shocks on  

                            the monitor brought him back.

Doctor 1: Let’s get him into one. 

Leslie Shay: I’ll be right back.

                     Kendra.

Dr. Kendra: Hey, you.

Leslie Shay: Hi.

Dr. Kendra: Missed you on Saturday.

Leslie Shay: Yeah, I was working. How was it?

Dr. Kendra: The food was good. But I don’t know why Kim’s still  

                     with Kristin. All they do is pick at each other. I mean,

                     enough already, you know?

Leslie Shay: Yeah. Believe me.

                      Listen [clears throat] I need a big favour.

                                                cutscene

Kelly Severide: You got any ibuprofen?

Otis Zvonecek: Yes, indeedy. How many you want? 

                                             [pills rattling] Kelly Severide: Five.

Otis Zvonecek: [chuckles] Here’s two [pills jiggling]

                           Seriously, too many can do serious damage to   

                           your kidneys, okay?

                           Don’t come running to me when you’re on dialysis  

                           in five years, okay?

Kelly Severide: Thanks.

Otis Zvonecek:  Seriously, look it up. Ibuprofen and kidneys.

                                       [locker door shuts]

Otis Zvonecek: Okay…

                                              cutscene

Antonio Dawson: Buddy of mine who works out of Voight’s   

                              precinct said nothing’s come up in witness 

                              statements.

Chief Boden: So you’re trying to tell me no one else saw his kid 

                       drunk?

Antonio Dawson: Hell yes other people saw his kid drunk. But   

                              they were other cops who aren’t about to go  

                               up against Voight.

Chief Boden: Well, I would rather my guy not be the only one with  

                        his head above the foxhole on this one. 

Antonio Dawson: I understand.

Matt Casey: Passenger in the other car isn’t gonna walk again.

Antonio Dawson: I know, I know. 

                              Look, give me till the end of this shift. But if I  

                              come up empty…

                              Voight’s been pulling his son out of things like   

                              this since the kid was 15. Lot of people had to   

                              turn the other way. And I’m just telling you, if it   

                              was Gabby who was in your shoes, and I’m not  

                              proud to admit this, but I’d tell her to stay out of 

                              it.

                                                      cutscene

                                                   [door opens]

Elise Mills: Those tomatoes are only good for another day or so.

Peter Mills: Elise, I’m done at the restaurant.

                    I mean I-I came in late at the beginning of a shift. That  

                    ain’t gonna happen again. Mom has just gotta deal with 

                    it.

Elise Mills: Then tell her.

Peter Mills: Well I’m going to.

                     But I-I need you to back me up, okay? 

Elise Mills: [scoffs] I mean, you know what’s going on here, right?

Peter Mills: Of course! Why do you think I’ve been there on every 

                     day off? You-you think I like slinging hash?

                     Hey.

                     Um, Lieutenant Severide, this is my sister, Elise.

Kelly Severide: Nice to meet you. 

Elise Mills: You too.

Peter Mills: Mom has just got to realise that dad loved being a  

                     firefighter. And I’m not gonna run from something I  

                     want to do with my life just to make her feel better.

Elise Mills: Then reassure her.

Peter Mills: Well, how?

Elise Mills: I don’t know. 

                   She’s scared. She doesn’t want to lose you too.

                                               cutscene

Joe Cruz: Hey. How the t-shirts going?

Nicki Rutkowski: Pretty good. Couple hundred bucks so far. I’m  

                              almost out of squad t-shirts though.

Otis Zvonecek: Whoa, what about truck shirts?

Nicki Rutkowski: Those are just kinda sitting there. I think it’s  

                              because of the goat emblem. It’s not a big 

                              seller. 

Otis Zvonecek: [sighs]

Nicki Rutkowski: Why a goat?

Otis Zvonecek: T-T-That’s what I’m saying. The goats are freakin’  

                           killing us, guys. 

Mouch: I wouldn’t mind an explanation from Casey on the flat 

             screen of it all.

Christopher Herrmann: Drop it.

                                                   cutscene

                                              [food sizzling]

Christopher Herrmann: I didn’t know your side job was the 

                                        restaurant business, Mills.

Peter Mills: For now. Phasing it out, though.

Christopher Herrmann: I think you’re the only food-related side 

                                        job we got in here. ‘Cause let’s see, we   

                                        got security guard, construction…

Peter Mills: What about you?

Christopher Herrmann: General entrepreneurship.

                                         I was doing pretty good as a day trader,   

                                         you know, until all the trolls jumped   

                                         onboard. And…you know, capsized it for 

                                         guys like me.

                                        You know, it’s…it’s funny that you bring it  

                                        up, Peter Mills, because I’m actually    

                                        circling an investment opportunity. It could  

                                        be massive, you know and I might…let you 

                                        guys get in on it. 

Joe Cruz: Well, what is it?

Christopher Herrmann: Nah, you guys are gonna have to wait,  

                                        ‘cause you know I...

                                        Okay, fine.

                                        Two words: Energy water.

                                        [snorts & laughters]

Jose Vargas: Are you kidding me?

Nicki Rutkowski: Greg Duffy? I guess he was in a car accident the  

                              other day that you guys responded to.

Matt Casey: Yeah, what about him?

Nicki Rutkowski: He’s outside.

Matt Casey: Sir.

Victim 1/father (Greg Duffy): Sorry to barge in on you like this, but  

                                                my wife made this for you guys. We  

                                                really appreciate what you did. And   

                                                we know damn well it could’ve been   

                                                worse if the car had tipped over, so…

                                                thank you.

All: Sure. 

       Yeah. 

         Absolutely

         No problem.

         Sure.

                                  [indistinctive murmurings]

Matt Casey: How’s your son?

Victim 1/father (Greg Duffy): Yeah, well…You know.

                                                 Mikey’s got a tough road ahead 

                                                 of him. But…we’re gonna make it. 

                                                 We’re gonna be alright.

                                                 The other reason I came here is…I 

                                                 don’t know if there’s anything you  

                                                 guys do in terms of what you saw, 

                                                 or piece together based on what the  

                                                 accident scene looked like, but the  

                                                 police report came back saying I ran

                                                 a red light, causing the accident.    

                                                 And, uh, that’s…that’s not what   

                                                 happened. And I’m…I’m kind of at a   

                                                 loss in terms of how to fight it.

                                                 cutscene

Matt Casey: Last paragraph. 

Chief Boden: Visibly drunk. Smelled alcohol on his breath. Saw  

                        open containers on the passenger seat.

                        Leaders lead from the front.

                                              [dramatic music]

                                                   cutscene

Al Rutkowski: Ah, there he is, that prick. 

Chief Boden: Oh, they will just let about anybody in this place.

Al Rutkowski: [chuckles] I got an urgent call from HQ saying you  

                         guys didn’t know your asses from a tripped horse.  

                         They wanted me to come down, show you how it’s 

                         done. 

Chief Boden: Well, come on, tell me about all that action you get  

                        out there in the suburbs.

Al Rutkowski: Ah, don’t start now.

Chief Boden & Al Rutkowski: [chuckles]

Al Rutkowski: Hey, uh, so how’s Nicki doing for you there?

Chief Boden: Well, she’s great help. She works hard, no drama,  

                       always got a positive attitude. She fits right in. 

                       Everybody loves her. 

Al Rutkowski: Ah, good, good.

                        Hey, I-I appreciate you doing this for me, buddy.

Chief Boden: Ain’t no thang. 

Al Rutkowski: Is she around? I told her I’d pick her up.

                                             cutscene

                             [kissing sounds & light moans]

Chief Boden: Our rig. It’s got a cylinder on it keeps on crackin’.  

                       13 years old. Can’t get us a new one.

Al Rutkowski: Come out to Naperville. We get a new rig every three 

                         years. 

Chief Boden: In the burbs.

Al Rutkowski: [chuckles]

Nicki Rutkowski: [heavy breathing] Leave it on.

Kelly Severide: [heavy breathing]

                             [kissing sounds & light moaning]

Chief Boden: Any of y’all seen Nicki?

Capp: I haven’t Chief, sorry.

Chief Boden: I’ll check the kitchen. Be right back.

Al Rutkowski: All right, boss.

                                          [door opens]

Nicki Rutkowski: [giggles] Hi, dad!

Al Rutkowski: Hey.

Nicki Rutkowski: You’re here early.

Al Rutkowski: Uh, zero traffic on the ike if you can believe it.

Nicki Rutkowski: Oh [giggles]

Al Rutkowski: [groans] Aw, you ready, kiddo?

Nicki Rutkowski: Yeah, yeah, eh, um…I’m just gonna go grab my 

                              stuff.

Al Rutkowski: All right, sweetheart. 

Nicki Rutkowski: Okay.

                                  [door opens & slams shut]

                                              cutscene

Leslie Shay: Hey.

Kelly Severide: Hey.

Leslie Shay: Need to talk to you.

Kelly Severide: That girl is in serious heat, and I’m not Ghandi.

Leslie Shay: What? No, about your arm.

Kelly Severide: Oh.

Leslie Shay: Here.

Kelly Severide: What’s this?

Leslie Shay: Friend of mine. I gave her a heads up.

Kelly Severide: Cool. Thanks.

Leslie Shay: Yeah, your appointment’s after shift.

                      You said you were gonna get your arm looked at.

Kelly Severide: I know. I am. I will. I’ll…I am.

Leslie Shay: Okay, so I basically feel like you’ve been lying to me   

                      in order to get painkillers, and that’s not really the  

                      quality I look for in a friend and a roommate. 

Kelly Severide: [sighs] Part of me doesn’t want to know.

Leslie Shay: I get it. Of course, but the consultation’s off the books. 

                     Just you and I will know and we’ll figure it out.

Kelly Severide: All right.

Leslie Shay: Okay.

                                                cutscene

Jose Vargas: Hey, Casey.

Matt Casey: What’s up?

Jose Vargas: Just wanted to let you know that I reached my squad 

                      certification.

Matt Casey: Okay.

Jose Vargas: And I put in for a transfer. So I just wanted you to  

                       know beforehand.

                       [sighs]

Matt Casey: Vargas, congratulations man. Seriously. Severide will  

                      be lucky to have you. 

Jose Vargas: I appreciate that. Thank you.

Hank Voight: You Casey?

Matt Casey: Yeah.

Hank Voight: I’m Hank Voight. 

                      Got time for a drink?

                                                  cutscene

Hank Voight: Lotta cops got dinosaur arms when it comes to   

                       pulling their gun. Not me. You know, I’ve always   

                       been aggressive. It’s the only way to get anything   

                       done in my line of work.

                       [sighs] The reason I’m telling you this is…I put a lot   

                       of time into my job. I mean, I cared a lot about   

                       protecting the city and the people in it. Maybe too 

                       much, ‘cause… I wasn’t at home a lot, and I took my 

                       eye off my son. That’s on me. But I am telling you   

                       right now I am gonna be up that kid’s ass until he  

                       gets his head on straight. I’m gonna get him in a   

                       program, the whole deal. You got my word on it.

Matt Casey: Good to hear.

Hank Voight: See, the thing is Justin…that’s my son…

                      [sighs] He’s got some priors. This thing that   

                      happened the other night, if there was alcohol  

                      involved, that’s a felony. He does time…real time.

                      You ever been to lockup? You been to Statesville?  

                      You been to these places? You don’t want your kid  

                      there, trust me.

Matt Casey: I’m sympathetic, but…that’s got nothing to do with me.

Hank Voight: Sure it does. You filed a report that said my son was  

                       drunk that night.

Matt Casey: He was.

Hank Voight: Well I need you to retract it.

                       Let me tell you…I will owe you. Big time. I’m a good  

                        guy to have a favour bank with. 

Matt Casey: The kid in the other car, did you know he’s paralysed?

Hank Voight: Yeah, and it breaks my heart. 

                        But there is no sense having two tragedies coming  

                        from that night. And putting ten years on my son  

                        would be a tragedy, ‘cause he’s a great guy.

Matt Casey: I’ve been to Statesville. You ever been to a spinal 

                      injury centre? 

                     Family watches their kid drag his feet while gripping  

                     some parallel bars, clinging to the fantasy that he’ll   

                     walk again one day. And the dad quits his job to help 

                     the mom care for him, and take a second mortgage   

                     out on their house to pay for it. And on top of that,  

                     they have to live with the shame that the police and   

                     fire department shoved a lie down their throat that   

                     they caused the accident? 

                     What you’re asking me to do…

Hank Voight: I’m not asking! [slams hands on table]

                       If you’re not the kind of man to do a cop a favour,   

                       then I can take this to the next level real easy.   

                       It was the end of your shift, you were tired, you got   

                       your paperwork mixed up, you got your calls mixed 

                       up. There’s a million excuses. Pick one. ‘Cause 

                       believe me…You are gonna retract that statement. 

                       ‘Cause if you don’t, I swear to God…

Chief Boden: Casey.

Matt Casey: Chief.

Hank Voight: Hey Chief, uh, can you give us a minute? This is kind

                       of a private conversation.

Chief Boden: Nah, I’m good.

                                        [chair scraping back]

Matt Casey: I’m not changing a word

                                               cutscene

Dr. Kendra: Honestly, I don’t know how you’re walking around

                     right now let alone working. What happened?

Kelly Severide: Job related. I figured it was just a pinched nerve.

Dr. Kendra: It is. ‘Caused by a fracture in your c5 vertebra. 

                    Right here.

Kelly Severide: Okay.

Dr. Kendra: You’re lucky that you can feel pain at all right now. 

                     But there’s a surgery, which can take pressure off

                     the nerve…

Kelly Severide: How long would I be off work?

Dr. Kendra: Full rehab, six months to a year.

Kelly Severide: How ‘bout without the surgery?

Dr. Kendra: We’re dealing with motor nerve damage, so there’s

                     no definitive timetable. But you can expect

                     weakness of the hands, you can expect muscle 

                      atrophy, and then if it deteriorates…fasciculation 

                      – twitching of the hands, of the knees. After that, 

                      you don’t want to  know. 

                                                cutscene

                                        [locker door shuts]

Gabby Dawson: My brother called. Asked if you were sure about  

                            what you were doing. I told him, “you don’t know 

                            Casey very well.”

                            [giggles]

                                            [bag zipping]

Gabby Dawson: You holding up all right? 

Matt Casey: Yeah, yeah. I’m good.

                      [sighs]

                      What would you have done?

Gabby Dawson: Pssh…

                            I…y-you know, I went back and forth on this  

                            [sharp intake of breath] Especially with Antonio  

                            in my ear, but…[sighs]

                            You want to know the honest answer?

Matt Casey: Yeah.

Gabby Dawson: If I held that information out of the report, I  

                            thought about how I’d feel looking people I  

                            respect in the eye. You know, and…I-I guess  

                            specifically, I thought about how I’d feel looking 

                            you in the eye. And that’s when I know I would’ve 

                            done the right thing.

                                                   cutscene

Mouch: 300, 320, 340…344 dollars.

Christopher Herrmann: We found a 32-inch over in Roscoe  

                                         Village; the guy says it’s barely been 

                                         used.

Matt Casey: I got a better idea.

                                                 cutscene

                                              [hammering]

Matt Casey: What’s that?

Otis Zvonecek: You asked for a level.

Matt Casey: That’s a t-square.

                      Just…

Otis Zvonecek: Oh…

Matt Casey: Go.

Otis Zvonecek: Okay.

                                                  cutscene

Kelly Severide: Hey.

Leslie Shay: Hey. So…how’d it go?

Kelly Severide: Good. Nice lady.

                           I’ve just gotta find a way to manage the pain.

Leslie Shay: Yeah, Kendra said you…you basically have a broken 

                      neck.

Kelly Severide: Well if the two of you already talked, then why are  

                           you asking me?

                           I get that surgery, there’s follow-up exams. There’s  

                           paperwork involved. The department doesn’t like  

                           how it looks, I go on long-term disability. 

Leslie Shay: That’s 75% pay.

Kelly Severide: And then do what, Shay? I fish off Navy pier for the  

                          next 20 years? 

Leslie Shay: [sighs]

Kelly Severide: Working Squad is all I wanted. It’s all I have. 

                           If I have to eat the pain, then I will. 

                                               [chopping]

                                         [rapping on door]

                                           [knife clanking]

Leslie Shay: Who’s that?

                                           [door opening]

Al Rutkowski: Hey. Remember me?

Kelly Severide: [clears throat] I do.

Al Rutkowski: Nicki is engaged. 

                         Besides, it, uh looks like you’re already having your 

                         fun there.

                         This conversation need to continue?

Kelly Severide: No, sir, it doesn’t.

Al Rutkowski: Right.

                                            [door shuts]

Kelly Severide: There you have it.

                                               cutscene

Mouch: Bears game starts in an hour. Is there a decent spot   

              around here to watch it? Not too crowded, not too loud,  

              and we can get seats?

Peter Mills: Yeah. Yeah, I know a place

                                               cutscene

Christopher Herrmann: Bring it down. We’re going inside some  

                                         place. Go easy guys.

Peter Mills: Mom, hey.

                                   [indistinctive chatter]

Christopher Herrmann: This looks like a mom. This looks like a  

                                         mom, am I right?

Ingrid Mills: You’re right.

                     Welcome, welcome.

Christopher Herrmann: Aw, you got a sweet kid.

Peter Mills: Herrmann, mom.

Ingrid Mills: Herrmann, nice to meet you.

Mouch: Hello, mother.

Ingrid Mills: Hello.

Peter Mills: Mouch.

Mouch: Mouch.

Ingrid Mills: Mouch. 

Mouch: Mouch. 

Ingrid Mills: Nice to meet you.

Mouch: You’ll get used to it.

Ingrid Mills: Otis, nice to meet you.

Otis Zvonecek: Hi, mom. Brian. It’s Brian.

Ingrid Mills: Brian.

Otis Zvonecek: Yes.

Ingrid Mills: Jose, it’s a pleasure.

                     Welcome.

Jose Vargas: Thanks for having us.

Ingrid Mills: Welcome.

Peter Mills: Um, this is my boss, ma. This is Lieutenant Casey.

Ingrid Mills: Lieutenant Casey, it’s so great to have you guys here. 

Matt Casey: Nice to meet you, ma’am.

Peter Mills: And hey, oh this is my sister Elise.

All: Hey, Elise! [cheering]

Elise Mills: Cheers.

Matt Casey: Really? Thank you.

Ingrid Mills: Can I talk to you a minute?

Matt Casey: Yeah.

Ingrid Mills: I don’t sleep at night when he’s on shift.

                                 [indistinctive chatter]

Matt Casey: I’ll look after him. I promise.

Otis Zvonecek: Mouch, c’mon, turn on the TV, let’s go.

                           All right, cheers, cheers!

Ingrid Mills: Okay you guys, make yourselves at home. 

Jose Vargas: All right!

Ingrid Mills: We’ll bring some food out.

Joe Cruz: And food!

                                [laughter & chattering]

Crowd: Oh, he knows, he knows.

             Shall we?

             Yes. 

              Let’s go.

Mouch: Just keeps getting better!

TV: Welcome to soldier field in Chicago…

Christopher Herrmann: I really want my honey bears back.

                                       That’s what I want. 

                                       25 years.

                                                  - end -

Definitions:

Elliptical machine = Stationary exercise machine used to stair climb, walk, or run without causing excessive pressure to the joins, hence decreasing the risk of impact injuries.

L2 fracture = Fracture in the second vertebrae in the lumbar spine. The L2 vertebra makes up the spinal column, which supports the upper half of the human body.

K-12 = Fire/Rescue saw. It can be used for forcible entry, ventilation, USAR (Urban Search and Rescue – technical rescue operation that involves the location, extrication, and initial medical stabilisation of victims trapped in an urban area, namely structural collapse due to natural disasters, mines and collapsed trenches), RIC (Rapid Intervention Crew - team of two or more firefighters dedicated solely to the search and rescue of other firefighters in distress), and vehicle extrication.

V-fib = Ventricular fibrillation is an abnormal heart rhythm (rapid, erratic electrical impulses) in which the ventricles of the heart quiver instead of pumping normally. It is due to disorganised electrical activity. V-fib results in cardiac arrest with loss of consciousness and no pulse.

Pinched nerve = Occurs when too much pressure is applied to a nerve by surrounding tissues, such as bones, cartilage, muscles or tendons. This pressure disrupts the nerve’s function, causing pain, tingling, numbness or weakness.

C5 vertebra = The C5 is one of seven vertebrae of the cervical spine. It is a significant landmark when determining the likely consequences of trauma to the neck and spinal column. If the spinal cord injury is at or above the C5, the person may be unable to breathe. Even if death by asphyxiation is avoided by emergency measures, the person will likely be left as quadriplegic (paralysis of all four limbs). If the injury is below the C5, the likely outcome is that the person will be a paraplegic (paralysis of the legs and lower body).

Muscle atrophy = Is when muscles waste away. It’s usually caused by a lack of physical activity. When a disease of injury makes it difficult or impossible for you to move an arm or leg, the lack of mobility can result in muscle wasting.

Fasciculation = Or also known as muscle twitch, is a spontaneous, involuntary muscle contraction and relaxation, involving fine muscle fibres. They are common, with as much as 70% of people experiencing them. They can be benign, or associated with more serious conditions.