#but last few month I have been working in supply chain management

[mountmasns]

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[vorenado-m]

happy disability pride month! please consider helping me take back my life as a disabled person!

the TL;DR is that for the last 3 months i have had an absolutely soul-sucking miserable minimum wage retail job that, due to the way scheduling works (and the app being broken as fuck) has prevented me from having access to literally any of the life-saving mental health/medical care i need as a disabled person.

my disability is best managed through a combination of medication, therapy, and casework-- not a single one of which i have had since march! :) contextually, up until i got this job, i took three daily medications and had casework once a week and therapy once or sometimes twice a week. these services are offered at an affordable cost to me through a local organization that is threatening to close my case due to lack of participation.

ill make another, more detailed post later with some of the services i can offer for money (i draw! i code! i write!) but until then here is a code you can scan if you have a few dollars to spare:

there are more details beneath the cut (idk about you guys but im kinda nosy so i wrote some more stuff in case anyone else is also nosy) but thats the gist of it. you can also always ask for details. i dont have a therapist right now so it might feel good to say things.

my plan is as follows: i would like to take the month of july more or less "off" from work to get my affairs in order, starting with scheduling appointments for therapy and casework and getting back on my meds. i am actively looking for a job, but i would like the ability to be somewhat picky instead of applying everywhere i think might have me for the sake of having money coming in to pay rent.

for the last two years i have made less than $800/mo and i can survive on roughly $600-$650 a month. my july rent ($550) is paid and my august rent (at least $500) is most likely also squared away, through a combination of some cash i was hoarding, a previous donation, my last expected paychecks from my current job, and my brother generously offering to cover whatever is left over. the extra $100ish is for roughly a months supply of the food that is part of my daily routine that i get cranky without (i have tea every morning, for instance.)

i have a fantastic roommate who is not struggling as much financially who will do everything in her power to make sure i have access to staple foods (rice, eggs, etc) so i really just need to buy the things only i consume (kimchi, milk, etc.) there is a food bank i go to, so i am not worried about food, but i can only go to it once per month. we have a barter system where i trade her the things i dont want from the food bank and she buys me things i will eat; alternatively, i sometimes give her things i get from the food bank (eg meat) that she turns into meals for both of us.

i live independently/"alone" with roommates and do not have support from my family pretty much at all. they have never been particularly useful for emotional support and have openly denied me financial support since i was a teenager. moving in with them/getting help from them/talking to them is not an option.

i have emailed my caseworker at the mental health organization i work with as well as my caseworker with the disability vocational program i work with to help me find a new job that is "back of house" and requires less customer interaction. i did this over the weekend, so i expect to hear back from them sometime this week. in the meantime, i am searching for jobs on my own in places like indeed, jobhat, careerbuilder, etc. as well as checking company websites of places like chain grocery stores to see what is available in my area.

my job pool is a bit limited due to the fact that i cannot drive (due to both my disability and the medication im supposed to be taking for it) but i am very well-versed at taking the bus, which is free. getting to and from work is not a concern for me; it is being able to do the job without being driven to the edge of a mental breakdown that is the problem.

the disability vocational program is my ticket out of poverty! last month i had a follow-up evaluation (i had to call out of work for it, but frankly i was at the end of my rope then too) where they approved my career goals as a web developer and we are in the process of deciding what my next steps are! the program will likely (depending on what route i take) help pay for vocational training, too, but i obviously have to pay rent while in training. which i think i can do if i have a job that doesnt make me want to die.

i have some other things that make my life a bit harder (im mixed race, i am nonbinary + gay, etc) but i would say those things dont really impact my ability to get a job as much as the disability does LOL which is why i did not feature them prominently in this post. like, the reason i cant get a job isnt because people dont want to hire me because i have blue hair and pronouns, its because im obviously disabled.

if you have any other questions, no matter how intrusive you think they might be, feel free to send a DM or an ask, and i will try to answer.

[kalianos]

Context: So ages ago I ran a game in one of my custom worlds. It was a False Hydra game. Kept the players in the dark about it. Along the way I had kept some light notes pointing out bits here and there I felt were important. These eventually made it to the scene I am going to describe below.

As you walk along the town, the ropes tied around your waist. However everyone alive hear and feel the rope snap and sounds of heavy slapping. Along with the distinct chink of something small bouncing on the cobblestones.

Party starts to immediately asking who died, who they don't remember anymore. I calmly tell them that they are fine. Except the druid. I hear an exasperated groan from the player thinking he died since he was at the end of the rope. I tell him no, his character is still alive and as he looks back. He see's another length of rope behind him that wasn't there before. Leading to a mess of half-eaten green skin, bright armor and a book covered in blood on the ground.

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

Upon looking at the journal. They found this in the book. It's a bit lengthy.

1994 DR, 14th of Midwinter’s Torment

The adventurer’s guild has tasked us again. We are holding out a campaign against some rogue goblin elements outside of town. I have my doubts about the job. Acanthes is a chill human at least. He still smells like the swamp though. Somehow got saddled with a warrior from Chaton. Chaton! How the feth did he make it over the many fathoms?

Must have paid an orc ship all his coin to be taking work with the adventurers’ guild.

1994, 16th of Midwinter’s Torment

We made camp at the edge of the their base. It took a two days and a night to get here. By Moradin, The rogue we brought along has cheese. I suspect she is part of the “cheese makers” in more ways than one. She can be useful. Kai is a decent sort. Got too sharp of a tongue. Sharp dagger as well thankfully. In hindsight it was funny how well she threw a dagger into that goblin scouts skull. The tabaxi is being quiet.

1994DR, 17th of Midwinter’s Torment

We managed to break into the first barricades. The guards have been taken down. The patrols are aware of us now unfortunately. I have only a few vestiges of my power left. By Moradin I wish I was stronger to channel his divine will. Time. Time is all we need. They are banging on the doors.

1995DR, 4th of Summer Song

We have gone on for so long. We only had a few days rest from taking down the halfling raids to the north along the steppes. Those plains scare me. We passed by a few ghost towns. Ravaged by the halfling mongrels, taken down by Gnoll war bands. Or worse. Being consumed by the false hydras.

Since we have earned bronze rank over the last several months. We were warned that our jobs are now going to be “real” jobs. True monsters and terrors can now be assigned to us. It can’t be all bad right? I heard in the officer lounge while being debriefed that a blue dragon is potentially going to recruit some of us to acquire a rare gem for a courtship ritual. Apparently we would be guests of honor at the wedding if it goes well. I like weddings. Though I don’t think anyone knows how dwarves wed themselves. Buying themselves from their significant other’s parents, crushing gems under their iron boots. Growing up as a half-orc in the tunnels was interesting. Strangely did get a few interested lookers.

1995 DR, 11th of Summer’s rest

I am fuming now. I had slight hope we would get the deadly mission to help out the blue dragon, I could have worn a pretty formal chain-mail shirt or maybe plate armor. I had even looked into our major library to learn how blue dragons interacted and proper protocol.

All for nothing. Ackerson had come down pale and shaking after the letter flew in and he handed me the pack. I noticed it was much thicker than usual. Usually a manifest was just, “Supplies, guild resources rented, gold reward, gold reward deductions, and a small line for our major injury expenses to be compensated.” All on a single sheet of paper, then the outline written by a desk jockey with no legs. This was a full blown book in size. When I asked what it was about Ackerson just leaned up and whispered into my ear the one thing I didn’t want to hear ever in my existence.

“There is a report of a false hydra by guild watchdogs up in Ohmsford. Your team is the only one capable at the moment to handle it. We have taken measures and given you major bonuses to increase your chances of success. We need you to do this, and…I’m sorry. In case any of you fail, the stone of false hydra adventurers has already been carved upon so we will at least know you all in name and what your designations were in the grand library.”

I’m scared, no I’m terrified. Reading this book made by two wizards accounts is the most terrifying thing ever. These monsters are born from lies in folklore but we have no idea how they spring up? The drawings and the life-cycles of these things are downright horrific.

This is the most I’ve written in this thing in a long while but I can help but think; that I am sending us to the worst kind of death imaginable.

I took precautions just in case. I sent my adoptive father a memory stone explaining everything. Remarking that if he forgets his emerald treasure that its because she died fighting one of the most horrifying monsters of this world for their safety.

I’m going to tell the rest of the party later. Right now they are just going to be aware that its being caused by some cultists at the moment.

1995 DR 12th of Summer’s rest

We are having a last blow out party in the town. Drank myself silly. Kai brought in some amazing cheese. Had a fondue fountain and everything. We were only a little miffed when we found Acanthus floating a maple leaf boat through it. Claimed it would help give it more depth of flavor. I think he’s just being dumb. It does taste mapely though. Lucky bastard that I like maple syrup.

1995 DR, `13th of Summers Rest

Fucking potatoes, cabbage, farm lands and wheat for miles. I don’t want to eat ever again for as long as I live. Well except for pork. Never can give that up. Met some weird farmer named Perry. Claimed he had a scarecrow problem. Exorised it easily enough though Weevil got a small cut. After that a Slaad had erupted from the ground. How the hell this farmer survived with a Slaad on his land I will file into “most definitely an agent of chaos” column. Dispatched it well enough. Had to cast a spell of some power to cure Kai though. She got hit with the chaos disease. Was not interested in having to mercy kill my own party member at the start of the adventure.

We decided to make our way as fast as we could through the evening to the mountains. I knew a place that would give us a good deal on room.

Turns out I was right. The dwarf still remembers me from the good old days down in the caves. Got my friends set up in their own suite while I spent extra for my own private one.

I’ve never enjoyed a bath like this in so long. I’ll have to ask Harriet for a crystal. She finally perfected in making light crystals for the caves and it looks beautiful. I’m sure dad would like one. Who knows, if I managed to send it in time it’ll be a good marker for my memorial on the memory stone.

1995 Dr, 14th Summers rest

Bloody chilly, hellish sky whale. And those two idiots nearly drowned themselves trying to get light crystals when I told them that they were buyable. Claimed it was for the adventure of it and effort. I think they were just being stubborn.

Going into town, everything seemed off. We parked our mule and cart in the stables next to an inn. Ordered drinks as our Tabaxi went upstairs to do his ritual armor cleaning. The rogue managed to convince our druid to steal from an old man who looked like a banker. Greedy morons. Didn’t they see all the guards on high alert everywhere? They were caught by of all things another thief. Chatting with the bartender illuminated a lot. Whatever this is, it started in the northern-western area of town. I asked what the local authority here is. He could only shrug and tell me that it was the Captain of the Guard, Wilma; who runs things as usual. In a weird way it made sense. But it doesn’t make sense. I know there is a big mayoral estate here for a local authority.

1995 DR, 15th of Summers Rest

Dealt with a tailor who had been attacked. The halfling that sits in front of her shop is a creepy old hag of a woman. While here the tabaxi had claw daggers from the slaad start being made. On top of that I managed to convince them to make a nice maul in the old style but big enough for me. The dwarf was amenable when I spoke to him in the tongue of our fathers.

We talked with Leah for a bit. Our rogue tried to do some weird mind trickery that seemed to do something. It appears that not all memories can be completely erased I guess even by magic. The mind is a funny thing. While searching around, I found the picture of her husband and two children. It was hidden in the nightstand drawer. I think she didn’t know what to make of it and it disturbed her.

We met the local cheesemaker by accident. He had been ransacking the town since perfectly fine magic shops and alchemists were just there. Seeing as how the people who run them probably don’t exist anymore to the world. I am letting it slide. Moradin forgive me. Habbakuk and Zeboim as well to appease my sea orc ancestors.

We fought a troll. I burned so many spells and kept a wall between the troll and the everyone else. I got banged up pretty hard. Still that troll got a few lucky swipes on the druid and samurai. They’ve never seen a troll before and I hope they get to remember what happens. Felt prudent to spend most of my spells on healing. There is still a Troll colony here and they are completely feral apparently. I asked about trolls to the Town Captain who apparently has “always ran this town.”

She claims that Trolls are a very rare minor problem that only happened recently. This resort town can kiss my green ass.

Was told to investigate the retirement village for adventurers on the other side of this box canyon. I acquiesced to this request since we being paid. Paid to go and ask questions in that will help our initial investiagion no less. I love when the stars align to throw us a bone.

Met Gloria. She seemed nice. She had a love of ale that rivals some of the heavy drinkers back in the caves.

Acanthes got knocked out something fierce from a quarter shot. He came too and told me he had a weird dream. I suggested he follow his heart which he determined to mean go and meditate to the green father. What he told me afterwards is a puzzle of itself.

A shimmering pillar above the city? The singing I belive is from the false hydra. But this shimmering pillar? What does it mean?

We dealt with an Alemental. Talked to the Destroyers. A nice couple. Maybe I can find a strong man someday. Heh, will it be a man of the earth or a man of the sea like my ancestry wants?

The witch has a crazy love obsession with purple. Quisayle is a strange one to be honest. She seemed more fascinated than concerned about the false hydra.

Mentioned that there is an old tower to the northwest ohmsford that probably held a wizard of some report. She only mentions it because she has no memory of anyone living yet it’s a very nice tower. She is scary good at putting two and two together apparently.

1995 DR.

Had a nightmare. I was back at the inn room with some lady. A giant pale white face came in through the open window and gorged itself on her. As I tried to help another face and long neck came through and tried to eat me. I’m too strong and punched it back.

Woke up in a cold sweat over it. I’m writing this in the morning due to the oddness of this dream.

I clutch my holy symbol of Moradin. The warm glow of his forge comforts me through it. I run my finger over the engraving. If I am going to disappear this will be the one thing I will make sure to survive. It holds the needed identifier for the memory stone and for the guilds false hydra stone. Actually, I should keep this journal out and keep writing in it!

As long as I can see the thing in the moment, I can write about it! By the hammer fall! I can trust myself to keep a good record. I should share this with the group. I also devised that we can use a length of rope to keep us together slightly. This way we know if we have been attacked at least.

Itsafterusanditstryingtoeatmeohmoradinthisis bad. Its tailing us. Dropping its song to attack us!

Oh this is bad. I don’t know what do. If I had a decent mace on me I could beat the hell out of this thing. SHIT TH~

This journal is covered in blood. Inside is a portrait of a Large Half-Orc proudly displaying a Silver rank medal towering over the rest of you looking happy showing off your bronze medals.

A caption below it reads, “ The Squad”

So throughout the campaign they had encountered random weird oddities. Helpful people offering healing, random potions just...inside wolves. All explained away as just some weird quirk of a world they hadn't seen yet. When actually it was their Half-Orc Cleric they never knew they had. I had shamelessly stolen the idea from a D&D community when they were brainstorming about how to bring out a false hydra to be fair. But I think the execution was alright.

[littlethingwithfeathers]

What to do if you get caught by the Adderall shortage:

So, it’s not getting picked up by the news much (at least not that I’ve seen... NPR, BBC, AP), but there’s a pretty serious Adderall shortage happening right now. It’s been building for awhile helped along by the usual suspects (labor shortages, limited manufacturing facilities, shutdowns due to illness... blah blah) and some not so usual ones (More people getting diagnosed with ADHD... when you take away someone’s coping mechanism, which for some people it’s their in-person work environment and social activities, people start to have more issues!). And it looks like this could last until the beginning of 2023... so... what to do?

Please note, I’m not a doctor or medical professional of any kind. I just had to deal with this, and it’s worrying and a little troublesome to manage, so I thought I’d pass on some advice from my experience. It might not be one size fits all but it might help someone to know who to talk to and what to ask.

Also, if you’re going to use this as a moment to spout some drivel about “Maybe we don’t neeeeed all these meds, you guysssss!” please kindly fuck entirely, completely, and all the way off into the void. Same goes for people who are looking at this as an excuse to whine about “addicts” or drug related crime. Read the room. This post is not your soapbox. 

SO! You’ve gotten a call from your pharmacy that they can’t fill your Adderall prescription because your scrip is on backorder. Wat do??? Step one: Don’t panic. It is one pharmacy out of one version of a drug. You’ve got options, though it might take some legwork. If your prescription is at a chain like CVS, Target, Walmart, etc see if the pharmacy tech will call around to other stores in the area and ask about their stocks. Step two: 

Call your prescribing doctor, inform them of the situation, and ask for a paper prescription. Go pick up the prescription. Ask them for their advice and for information on which pharmacy to call (they might know of a pharmacy with the med in stock).

Step three: 

Start phoning pharmacies. Begin with the big chains. Places like CVS, Walgreens, Target, Walmart, and major grocery stores... places with multiple locations in town. Start here because they might be able to check with other stores in their chain to find out who has your prescription in stock, which will save you a phone call or three potentially. They also have more integrated supply networks and will have a better handle on their inventory. Fan out from your location with the help of Google. If you live in a big city, don’t be afraid to start checking in the ‘burbs or outlying towns. Also, if the pharmacy tech doesn’t seem like they’re in a rush, ask them if they’ve got other options... the generic form, other measurements, other types (long acting, short acting, etc). That will potentially save you this rigmarole a second time if you come up dry.

Step four:

If you call every pharmacy and have no luck, call your prescribing doctor back. Tell them you’ve phoned literally everyone and no one can fill your prescription and ask if there is a way you can change it by a few milligrams or switch to generic for this month? Could you get a shorter prescription (fewer pills, thus easier to fill)? Could you do short acting instead of long acting or vice versa for a few weeks until backorders get filled? In short, see if you can get an alternative to tide you over. Go get that paper prescription, and then start over (this is why asking some of those questions to the pharmacy techs could pay off).

Concluding advice:

-You do not have to do this by yourself. You don’t even actually have to do this yourself. Someone can do 90% of this for you. Other than the call to your physician for the script, a parent, spouse, friend, sibling or otherwise can help with this. They will just need the paper prescription, your insurance card, your name and date of birth, and your prescribing physician’s name and place of business. Get someone to help you if you can.

-If you’re not getting bit by the shortage, take this as a sign to stockpile your meds a bit. And this kinda goes for everyone, not just the ADHD/Adderall people. Shortages and supply issues are not going to go away any time soon. Next it might be blood pressure meds, or a particular steroid... who knows. Talk to your doctor about how to effectively plan for this with the meds you’re taking. Future you will thank you.

[thiswasinevitableid]

Perfect Specimen (Sternclay)

I decided I wanted to do something for Monster March, and @bellafarallones and I were riffing on this amazing art from @panthermouthh, as the design on Doctor Frankenstein is not unlike how I personally picture Stern.

A few content notes: This is NSFW, and given the subject matter it touches on death. There's also animal death but everything comes out okay in the end.

It’s the perfect night for mystery and horror. The very air itself is filled with monsters. 

And if Joseph’s lab does not have a monster of its own by the time this thunderstorm is done, he’s going to walk out the highest window in the castle. 

Four years of research, another year of planning, six months of gathering supplies, days and nights without sleep, the burns on his upper arm, the white in his hair, all of it has been for this moment. 

The instruments tell him the voltage from the storm is the highest he can hope for, and a moment later the readings from the nodes attached to the experiment tell him a bolt has connected long enough and strong enough to restart the heart. 

He rigged the lift table to be moveable by one person, but it’s still exhausting to strain against the chains, to control the force of the descent, all the while sweat mingles with the rain as it drops from the platform. The instant the table touches the lab floor, he wrenches the handle to close the gap in the roof, shutting out the storm at last. Now all that’s left is the crackle of the equipment, the distant thunder, and his heart beating so loud that for a moment he can’t manage to move. 

When his stethoscope can’t find a twin beat in the chest of his specimen, he sags to the floor, pushes himself back until he’s resting against the nearest table and tosses his gloves away in frustration. He digs his hands into his hair, gripping at the root, wanting to scream in frustration but somehow, after all this time, afraid someone might hear.

He did everything right, picked every part as carefully as if the body were his own. No beer-saturated livers, no bad hearts, no black lungs for his specimen. And it still hadn’t worked. 

The window calls to him. He tugs his hair again, frees his hands only to dig his nails into his palms. No. He can do this. He’s Dr. Joseph Stern, he has brought life to lower animals and god damn it he will bring life to this one. 

He rises, brushing off his lab coat, brain already churning on a new plan. 

Then the figure beneath the sheet sits bolt upright and starts to scream. 

—-----------------------------------------------------------

The last thing Barclay remembers is his room at the Lodge. He’d been alone, the doctor had told Mama and the others they couldn’t come in, not unless they wanted to risk the flu that was stealing his energy and breath away. He could feel he was dying, and he was so scared, he’d begged the man to at least let him see them in the doorway, but his usual doctor had passed from the flu himself. This one, sent from the city, had talked to Barclay like he had rocks for brains and didn’t even stay with him until the end. He’d cried out, weakly but still a cry, for his friends. 

And now he’s crying out again, thrashing at the fabric above him. Fuck, he’s in a shroud and he can’t move, they’ve fucking buried him alive. That thought horrifies him so much he wrenches upward, freeing himself from the confines of his coffin and gasping for air. 

Only there’s no wood or dirt anywhere. Just broken, leather straps hanging off his wrists and a white bed sheet tangled around his waist. A laboratory gleams and hisses around him, and to the right of his bed stands a man in white lab coat. 

The man's hands are over his mouth in shock, his blue eyes wide with excited surprise. Barclay  notices the streak of white in the front of his black hair as lightning flashes across the skylight. 

“You’re alive. Alive!” He steps forward and Barclay leans away, body too full of residual panic to do anything else. 

The scientist holds out a hand, as if Barclay is a spooked dog hiding under the bed, and says slowly and quietly, “Don’t be afraid. You’re not in danger. My name is Dr. Joseph Stern. This is my lab. And you…” a rapturous smile spreads across his face, “you’re my specimen. My vindication.”

“Specimen?” Barclay’s voice creeps upwards.

“You can talk.” Dr. Stern carefully sets his hands on the metal table Barclay mistook for a bed, “amazing, thank god I didn’t use my first choice of head and neck, it’d been damaged by hanging and might have-.”

“Woah, woah” Barclay holds up his hands, trying to get the doctor to make sense. It’s then that he sees his hands aren’t the ones he remembers, and they’re sewn to arms where the skin is a few shades darker. He tosses the sheet aside and finds the rest of his body the same kind of patchwork, clutches his face and notices a beard that wasn’t there before. 

He starts screaming again. 

“Please, stay calm-”

“What did you do? What the fuck did you do to me? What am I?” 

“You’re a modern golem. A, a testament to science and progress.”

Barclay growls and grabs for him, dragging him close by the front of his coat, “Where the fuck is my body? My real body.”

“This is your real body.” The man pushes him back, cheeks slightly pink, “you’ve never had another one.”

“The hell I haven’t! Where is it, where’s, where’s the body of Barclay Cobb?”

The doctor stills, staring at him with fascinated confusion, “He…he’s in Kepler cemetery. Where he was buried. I needed his brain. And his eyes. But I left the rest of him there. Unless.”

“Unless?”

“Unless he’s here now?”

“Yeah. Yeah he is. He’s here and he’s confused and none of this is making that any better.” Tears sting his vision and spill down his cheeks

“I’m…I’m sorry. I didn’t expect this. Everything I read suggested that bringing you to life would potentially give you a soul. Or raise you without one. Not, not just bring back someone who was lost.”

“Feel like we have that saying about not believing everything you read for a reason.” He replies helplessly.

A slight smile, “True. And being cutting edge with my research meant there weren’t a lot of reference points.”

“Look” Barclay wipes his eyes and stands, finds himself actually looking down at the doctor, who himself must be six feet tall. The new height is the first thing about this whole mess that doesn’t feel like a curse, “whatever you did, it didn’t go how you expected. I’m not some new creature, I’m just a normal guy in a fucked-up  body. So I’m gonna let you go back to the drawing board and I’m gonna go home and give my friends the biggest fucking hug I can manage.”

“You can’t” Dr. Stern steps between him and the door, “They won’t recognize your new body, and they might be upset if they put together what happened. More to the point, grave robbing and desecration of a corpse are serious charges and I have no plans to be brought up on them.”

“That sounds like a you problem.” He ties the sheet around his waist. That’ll have to work for now. 

Blue eyes narrow, “Mr. Cobb. Barclay” the doctor brings his hands to his sides but makes no move to get out of the way, “People fear what they don’t understand. Right now, I barely understand what’s going on with you. How do you think people in Kepler are going to react?”

“Doesn’t seem like I’m much safer here.” Barclay glowers at the pistol sitting on one of the tables.

Stern sighs, “Several of my predecessors died when the animals they brought back with electricity turned on them. I don’t plan on joining them. It would have been an absolute last resort; Barclay, years of my life have led to this moment, and I’m not going to discard them lightly. Or let them walk right into the path of an angry mob.”

Barclay steps around him, and fingers grab his arm.

“If your old self saw this self coming down the dark road toward him, what would he do?”

“....Probably panic and run inside. Lock the doors and windows so he couldn’t get in and hurt my or my friends.” 

“Now imagine how one of your less gentle neighbors might react.”

“Fuck.” Barclay wraps his arms around himself. His next step lands wrong, his legs unsteady, and sits heavily down on the floor. When he looks up, the doctor is hurriedly making notes. 

“So, what, is the plan to make me sleep down here? Because staying in a dungeon sounds fucking miserable.”

The doctor shakes his head, “No. Lord knows there’s plenty of space in the castle, and I have a room ready for you. Um, just give me a few minutes to get it heated.”

More than a few minutes later Stern returns, dust on his coat, and gingerly extends a hand. Barclay takes it, and allows himself to be led up into his new home. 

He only manages a few hours of sleep before pain wakes him. Anywhere he’s been stitched hurts. When it gets to the point where he can no longer comfortably lay in bed, he groans and gets up in search of the guy responsible. 

The only light and noise in the house is still from the direction of the lab. Inside he finds Stern diligently filling a notebook with words and diagrams. The doctor doesn’t see him right away, and he wonders if this is even a good idea. The guy brought him back as an experiment, seems shocked that Barclay is a person instead of an empty vessel. Maybe asking for help will just cement the idea that Barclay needs to stay here for his own good. 

Then again. 

In the lamplight of a less panicked mind, Joseph Stern doesn’t look quite like the confident, business-like doctor ready to order Barclay around like he’s nothing. There are dark circles under his eyes and his black hair is a mess from wind sneaking through the skylight. And when Barclay awoke, monstrous and afraid, Stern didn’t flinch from him. 

“Uh, Doctor Stern?”

The man looks up, and Barclay pushes down the urge to haul him up to bed before he passes out at his desk. 

“Do you have anything for the pain?”

“That depends on where it is.”

Barclay explains the situation, Stern’s expression tinged with disappointment by the end. It’s only as the doctor unlocks a drawer that Barclay understands the emotion is directed at himself instead of Barclay. 

“It didn’t occur to me that your nerves would react that way, though it makes perfect sense. Here” He holds out a tin of bitter-smelling salve, “this should help numb the pain if you rub it around the stitches.”

“What is it?”

“A topical painkiller. I developed it when I was earning my degree. The number of my colleagues who thought it was fine to give patients who needed to work to keep a roof over their heads ingestible pain relief that made them groggy was shocking. I wanted my patients to have another option.” 

“Thank you, doctor.” 

The other man smiles, subtly steadying his swaying body against the lab table, “You’re my housemate, not my servant. Call me Joseph.”

It’s only the fact that those last three words sound as if they haven’t been spoken in a long, long time that Barclay doesn’t roll his eyes at the idea that a rich boy from the city  won’t see him as a servant. Instead, he takes the tin, returns to his bed, and falls into a deep, if somewhat tingly, sleep. 

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Joseph wakes to the smell of coffee and toast and the patter of the rain on the windows. He’s glad he managed to crawl into bed last night instead of passing out at his desk again; it’s cozy here. 

He and Barclay spent the last thirty-six hours in opposite states of energy; Joseph was unable to sleep, anxious to write down every observation and note from Barclay being resurrected. When the anxiety started to fade, a wave of pride would come and buoy him along as he imagined everyone who mocked him being forced to admit he was right. The source of his excitement, on the other hand, spent the entire time in such a sound sleep Joseph checked him twice with the stethoscope to make sure he was still alive, and left him some clothes once he was certain he was. His guess is that, among the many effects of being brought back, Barclay’s body registered the life-giving jolt as a massive expenditure of energy. Not to mention that panic can really take it out of a man. Joseph knows that much from experience. 

The smell of frying meat mingles with the toast now. He should get up and have breakfast. 

He should figure out who in the castle is even making breakfast.

Joseph hurries out of bed, tying his robe as he descends the stairs. In the kitchen, humming as he moves from stove to table and back again, is Barclay. 

“What are you doing?” 

“Making breakfast. I’m sure you’re the kinda guy who survives on coffee and thoughts or whatever, but some of us need actual food.” The knife he’s using on a potato finds his finger instead, nicking it, and he pulls back with a sigh, “I’m sure the bigger hands will be good for something, but right now they’re a pain to get used to.”

Joseph shakes the thoughts of what those hands could do from his sleep-addled head as Barclay ties a small bandage–he must have found them in the lab– around the cut. There’s also a fresh burn on the back of his left hand; he must have hit it on the oven. 

“I’m sorry, I know the new body must be hard to adjust to. In my defense, I didn’t think you’d be cooking.”

The taller man pulls the percolator from the stove, looking at him warily “What did you think I’d be doing?”

“Recovering and gaining control of your body for the first few weeks. Frankly I’m proud of the fact my careful work means you’re up and moving so soon, and the apparent transferring of your muscle memory into a new body is intriguing.”

“Yeah, if you’re not the guy banging his head into things. Or dealing with how itchy a beard can be.” 

“I can buy you a razor if you want it gone.”

Barclay studies his reflection in a hanging pot, running his hands over the beard that’s barely past stubble, “Nah. I like how it looks. Mine always came in patchy.” He moves sausages onto a plate, “guess I oughta thank you for picking a handsome face for me, even if you did put stitches on it.”

“You can blame the fox that ate his nose part way off for that.”

Barclay grimaces.

“Sorry. I’ve been rooting around graveyards and charnel houses for so long it’s sort of…skewed how I talk about these things.”

“I mean, it seems like its’ kinda your life’s work so I get it. But no surgery talk at the table.” He sets the sausages and toast on the wood, then a plate down in front of Joseph and one in front of himself. Joseph pours them each coffee and they eat in awkward but not unpleasant silence. 

As they’re walking past the fireplace in the dining room, Barclay pauses to look at the chess problem Joseph laid out a month ago. 

“Do you play?”

The other man nods, “Learned how when I first started working at the Lodge. We, uh, we could play sometime.”

“I wish, but there’s a reason that’s just been sitting there. My work comes first.”

“I thought that was done. Or are you just going to keep making more guys like me?”

“No” he meets Barclay’s gaze, tries not to feel guilty for the distrust he finds there, “I have so much to learn from you. I’ve re-written some of the core beliefs of science, and I need to put my findings in enough order to present them eventually. Then there’s the fact that the process of constructing you has massive ramifications for the field of surgery.”

“So is my job just to lay in that fucking lab all day?”

That had been his plan. The moment Barclay turned those brown eyes on him and told him his name, it all went up in smoke. 

“I’ll need to ask you questions now and then. And if possible have you do a few physical tests; that serves a second purpose of making sure your motor function isn’t deteriorating or you’re not getting ill from some unforeseen side effect of all this. Other than that, well, my home is yours to make your own.”

They leave it at that, Joseph retreating to his lab and Barclay wandering back towards the kitchen. 

It’s just after six when Joseph is comparing his notes to those of one Professor Cold. There were rumors he’d succeeded in restoring not one, but two, bodies; his twin sons had been killed in a carriage accident. Joseph sees the groundwork for such a feat in the notes, but the way Cold writes about his potential subjects has always bothered him. They were living, breathing men with hopes and ideas and he sees them as nothing more than projects. 

Than specimens. 

Joseph closes the book, sets his notes in order for the night, and returns to the main floor of the castle. Barclay is in a chair by the fire, a book of Virgil in his lap and his focus on the window that faces town. 

“Barclay?”

“Mm?”

In his old life he knew how to be charming. Maybe it’s time to dust off that skill. 

“I’d be honored if you’d join me for a game of chess and a cup of coffee.”

Barclay looks him over, firelight dancing along the line of his jaw. 

“Honored, huh?”

He nods and offers his arm. Barclay smiles, amused, and stands to take it.

—-------------------------------------------------------------------

They’d been making progress over the last month, in more ways than one. Barclay’s skill and comfort with his new body improved, he grew more relaxed when Joseph asked him questions for his research, and his glances toward town are not nearly as melancholy. The reason for that last change is obvious. 

“Okay, either a carriage splashed you or you decided to take a mudbath in the center of town.” Barclay helps Joseph out of his coat as the doctor pulls off his boots.”

“Not quite. There was a puddle in the cemetery that I swear was up to my knees.”

Barclay looks at him, eyebrows raised and lips quirked in a smile “Looking to replace me?”

“Never. But you were the reason for my visit.” Joseph straightens the black vest stretching across Barclay’s chest, “you were so worried you’d be forgotten. I needed to find your grave. Barclay, it’s so covered in flowers I nearly missed the inscription.”

“Oh.” Barclay looks lost and sad, as if Joseph had found him in the middle of the forest, miles from home. 

Joseph takes his hands, “You’ll see your friends again. We’ll figure out a way to re-introduce you without setting off mass panic. I promise.”

Barclays mood had improved massively after that. Which is puzzlement, not panic, is what grips Joseph when he finds his friend crying at the kitchen table. When he asks what happened, Barclay points to a bundled rag. In it is a rabbit kit, eyes open and glassy.

“I, I found it a few others, they got stuck against the outside wall when that tree came down last night” Barclay sniffles, “I moved them so they could find food but that one I, I must have held him too hard, I, I didn’t mean to. I, what if I do it again, what if I can’t be gentle anymore, what if I, I hurt something else, or someone else?” 

Joseph steps next to his chair, only for Barclay to hide his face in his waistcoat. He lets him cry–he hasn’t since that first night–and cautiously pets his hair. 

“Wh-what if I’m too much of a monster?”

“Barclay, look at me.” Joseph gingerly cups his chin, pushes his shaggy auburn hair from his forehead so he can see his face, “you’re not a monster. You’re a wonder, and more than that you are gentle. And kind. This was just an accident, one we can learn from.”

Barclay sniffs, wiping under his eyes.

“A monster wouldn’t cry for a rabbit. Or be thoughtful enough to give it a shroud.”

That gets him a watery smile. 

“Go rest for a bit. I’ll take care of everything.”

Barclay slowly gets to his feet. Joseph waits until he’s in the library, then gathers the sad bundle and slips down to his lab. 

It’s fiddly, frustrating work, but it’s worth every second when shakes Barclay from his lap and shows him the rabbit, fur slightly on end but nose wiggling calmly, and asks if he’d like to help him choose the spot to set it free outside.

—--------------------------------------------------------------------------

He’s getting better about not working to and past midnight, but after Barclay made a particularly delicious shepherds pie for lunch today, Joseph had passed out cold on couch the moved to be by the library fire (it’s more comfortable sitting side by side on it than in separate chairs) with his head on Barclay’s shoulder. 

He’d awoken, now on top of his companion, to find it was four in the afternoon and he was behind on the monograph he’s writing on how to effectively reconnect eyes to the brain.

Barclay’s footsteps are just audible under the crash of the storm outside. Joseph isn’t surprised to see him in the doorway; electrical storms set him on edge. Neither of them can figure out if that’s some lingering effect of the experiment that brought him back to life or if the dislike of lightning is somehow stored in a particular body part.  But when it happens, Barclay prefers to be wherever Joseph is.

“Anything I can help with?” Barclay sets a hand on the back of Joseph’s chair. 

“Nothing comes to mind–no, wait, I think we have a few items on my initial checklist to cover.” He pulls out the stack of papers recording the various physical functions of Barclay’s body, “let’s see, the remaining one is, um, is…”

Barclay leans down, then blushes at the underlined words,“Figures you’d be that thorough.”

“We don’t have to test it. Now or ever.”

“What does testing my, uh, sexual functioning involve?”

“Seeing if you can achieve erection and release.”

Barclay’s blush deepens, “Yeah, about that. Kinda confirmed it myself.”

“In that case I’d just need to collect ejaculate. Just to see if you’re, um, able to reproduce like this.” The clinical language is his last hope of not admitting that part of his reason for wanting to know that is personal; his fantasies will be more accurate if he knows whether he could let Barclay come in him without fear. 

Curiously, his more detached tone does nothing for Barclay’s reddening cheeks. 

“We can do that. If, if you want. Hate to leave you with an unfinished checklist.” He says it so tenderly Joseph wants to cry. 

“Okay. Please take off your clothes and go sit on the lab table.”

Barclay obeys, and as he does Joseph sees just how far down the blush goes. 

“Should I…” Barclay gestures to his crotch. Joseph picked his cock out himself. He doesn’t remember it being so intimidating. Or so tempting. 

“Let me.” He steps between Barclay’s legs, the closeness feeling safe than watching from a chair would be; if they did that, Barclay could see his face, might realize how hopelessly smitten Joseph is. Worse, Joseph might learn that Barclay enjoys being watched and ordered around by a seemingly in control Joseph, and then he’d really be screwed. 

His fingers brush Barclay’s cock and the cook sighs and laughs, nervously, “Y’know, usually make a guy buy me dinner before he does that.”

“Does paying for our groceries count?”

“Guess soOH, oh” Barclay’s legs fall wider as Joseph begins stroking him, “yeah, yeah just like that.”

Joseph grips the edge of the table with his free hand. Focus, if he can just focus-

Barclay’s cock is fully hard, heavy in his hand, and when he runs his thumb over the head the other man bucks and moans. His head tips back and Joseph tries to focus on the scars, on what they mean, but all he can think about is dragging his tongue.

Barclay moans again, fucking into his hand, and Joseph’s vocal cords act without permission. 

“That’s it, big guy, I want this to feel good. I want my perfect specimen to enjoy himself.”

Brown eyes snap open and the noise from those plush lips is a whimper. 

“Do you like when I call you that?” He asks, hopeful at the prospect of something he didn’t know he wanted until a moment ago.

“Uh huh, Joseph, please-”

He squeezes the base of Barclay’s cock, letting his nails graze his balls, “That’s sir to you.”

Barclay grins, “Fuck yes it is. Sir. I, I like when you look at me like a project, like a puzzle, no one ever paid attention to me like that, like you, fuck, sir” his head tips forward and his lips find Joseph’s neck, mouthing and kissing at it and soaking his collar in the process. 

“Messy” He scolds. Barclay whines, cock starting to slide more purposefully in his fist, but keeps up his barrage of kisses. 

“Don’t care, sir, promise I’ll make it up to you, want you so bad, tired of waiting.”

“Waiting for what, big guy?”

“You” Barclay says weakly, moan spilling out of him as cum spurts between them. Joseph should be hurrying to catch it with something, but he doesn’t want to lose this moment, doesn’t want to stop feeling Barclay’s breath on his neck and arms around his shoulders. 

He risks a kiss to his beautiful specimen’s forehead and gets a happy sigh in reply. 

“Your turn, sir.”

“Barclay, we don’t need to, you’re probably tired and I should-” 

His lower back slams into the table so abruptly he yelps. 

“Maybe you didn’t hear me, sir” he growls, “I said it’s your turn to be stuck on this fucking table.”

Between the baritone rattling his bones and his terrified excitement at how easily Barclay turned the tide on him, he forgets the reason he hasn’t done this since his first year of university until Barclay rips away every scrap of clothing covering his crotch. 

“I…I can explain”

“Don’t need to” Barclay’s eyes are wide and hungry as he takes in the slick folds, “saw the scars on your chest that time you got acid on your shirt and had to get it off in a hurry.”

“If it’s not to your taste we canFUCK, fuckingchrist” His back and head hit the table as Barclay wrenches his legs over his shoulders and drops to his knees.

“Oh it’s to my taste, sir, because I can do this from how fucking wet you are from just touching my dick” He shoves three fingers inside, fucking Joseph insistently and laughing as the heels of his shoes catch the cooks upper back.

“Lookit you” Barclay sounds like he’s drooling, “this why you made me so big, sir? Because you know just how fucking needy you are and you have to have something nice and thick in you before you can relax.”

“No, I mean yes, maybe, fuck” His hands thwack against the metal, “don’t make me think anymore, I can’t, I don’t want to.”

“Then don’t” Barclay purrs, warm lips ghosting over his dick, “just lay back and lemme give you everything you need. Don’t need to be a genius, just gotta let me use this” he curls his fingers “needy thing whenever I want. And let me do this, too” his lips close around Joseph’s dick and Joseph forgets every word that’s not a curse or a plea for more, his world becoming nothing other than Barclay’s face and fingers against him, his forearm trapping his hips so he can only writhe uselessly as Barclay takes what he wants. 

Joseph digs his hands into Barclay’s hair, certain that if he doesn’t hold onto something his whole body will come apart from the force of his impending orgasm. As it is, when it hits his scream is embarrassingly high and broken, though Barclays only reaction to it is a groan. 

As Barclay pulls back and stands, Joseph can see the slick on his beard, and moans when the cook licks his fingers with a blissful expression. 

He lunges upward at the same second Barclay bends down, kiss reverberating through his entire being as his monster–no, his lover–holds him close. When they finally break, Barclay literally gasping for air, Joseph rests his hand on his beard and smiles as the other man rubs against his palm. 

“You okay?” Barclay murmurs, fingers playing comfortingly along Joseph’s cheek.

“That’s an understatement. Even if a think you might have strained my hip flexor throwing my legs up like that.”

“Sorry” shame creeps across his face and Joseph will not stand for that. 

“I don’t mind, big guy. Though maybe next time I’ll tie you down until we learn just how your strength plays out in the bedroom.”

“That means you’ll have to do all the work, sir.” The smile is back, honey-sweet and warm.

“I can handle that. I’m not afraid of hard work.”

Barclay chuckles and kisses him again, and Joseph sets aside his planning in favor of staying in his arms a little longer.

[little-life-of-bushra]

Aspect 2 : The rest of life

The lovely parts of my life.

I had to see my family to sort out my dad's last bits of probate of our family home. I wouldn't say it was necessarily a happy part but it was mostly done. A big big thing nearly ticked off.

A whole year after my dad died to the day.

I am pretty sure both my mom and dad are watching.

And this week I have been forging ahead with a company idea I have been working on for decades informally and touched on through professional and academic work through sustainability and innovation. And worked more intensely the last 2 years.

My metaverse travel blog.

itsawild.world

The first iteration I started during covid. And even during that time with travel restrictions I managed to create a travel blog - covering -

culture, food, fashion/style and also an ambience unique to that place.

So with my previous iteration of itsawild.world, bearing in mind I was working within the parameters of the harassment etc

I wanted to do things I could control, there were restrictions on everything and everything had changed on a macro level as well as the micro.

So we were travelling anyway in the windows - we were not afraid.

And actually a lot of countries which relied on tourism were welcoming back people albeit with some covid tests etc. extra admin.

My plan was to collect the multimedia and iterate that to become more and more efficient so creating a workflow which could be scalable. Also it's a new way to collect and share and experience. We know that collecting and sharing is also central to many experiences. In 2D that is.

I mostly focussed on collecting multimedia including 3D. And trying to understand how to curate this more as collective information / cohesive and useful.

So the main update on all of this has been that I have visited a number of Middle Eastern countries over the last few months, so I want to include that content by region. It made more logical sense and also to build on that perspective.

Reorganise my previous content so that is it more accessible. Try a number of different ways to access it to test which is the best way.

And also case study other women and travel journeys to find out insights on what's important for them.. This was a new and rapidly growing market.

And of course core to this ....

How do we make tangible people planet and profit ?

How do we incorporate sustainability ?

How do we incorporate social impact ?

How do we monetise ?

Well ... I had been following what the UN have been doing with their global compact initiatives across a number of different sectors and tourism was one which touched on many different goals and other sectors from agriculture, cultural heritage, employment to fashion sectors and supply chain.

In fact there is a 250 page UN report related to tourism and a toolkit to refer to.

But to make it work for my company, I needed to incorporate it in from the outset so it is embedded into business decisions and also to be considerate of what to capture for baseline data otherwise how do we know what positive impact has been made.

[newstfionline]

Sunday, March 26, 2023

Tornadoes kill 24 in 100-mile path through Mississippi, Alabama (Washington Post) Devastating tornadoes swept through parts of Mississippi and Alabama Friday night, killing at least 24 people, injuring dozens more and wreaking severe damage. Wind gusts of up to 80 mph and hail the size of golf balls battered the state as the large twisters moved more than 100 miles, an unusually long path. They left behind destruction, reducing buildings to piles of wreckage in hard-hit areas. After overnight rescues, residents and officials were taking stock of the devastation Saturday. The Mississippi Emergency Management Agency said that at least four people were missing and that the death toll was expected to rise.

From Rockets to Ball Bearings, Pentagon Struggles to Feed War Machine (NYT) The Navy admiral had a blunt message for the military contractors building precision-guided missiles for his warships, submarines and planes at a moment when the United States is dispatching arms to Ukraine and preparing for the possibility of conflict with China. “Look at me. I am not forgiving the fact you’re not delivering the ordnance we need. OK?” Adm. Daryl Caudle, who is in charge of delivering weapons to most of the Navy’s East Coast-based fleet, warned contractors during an industry gathering in January. “We’re talking about war-fighting, national security, and going against a competitor here and a potential adversary that is like nothing we’ve ever seen. And we can’t dillydally around with these deliveries.” His open frustration reflects a problem that has become worryingly apparent as the Pentagon dispatches its own stocks of weapons to help Ukraine hold off Russia and Washington warily watches for signs that China might provoke a new conflict by invading Taiwan: The United States lacks the capacity to produce the arms that the nation and its allies need at a time of heightened superpower tensions. Industry consolidation, depleted manufacturing lines and supply chain issues have combined to constrain the production of basic ammunition like artillery shells while also prompting concern about building adequate reserves of more sophisticated weapons including missiles, air defense systems and counter-artillery radar.

A federal judge spoke at Stanford Law School. Chaos ensued. (NYT) Stuart Kyle Duncan—a federal appeals court judge appointed by Donald Trump—visited Stanford Law School this month to give a talk. It didn’t go well. Students frequently interrupted him with heckling. One protester called for his daughters to be raped, Duncan said. When he asked Stanford administrators to calm the crowd, the associate dean for diversity, equity and inclusion walked to the lectern and instead began her remarks by criticizing him. “For many people here, your work has caused harm,” she told him. After Duncan described his experience in a Wall Street Journal essay last week, the episode has received national attention and caused continuing turmoil at Stanford. The associate dean has been placed on leave. Stanford’s president, Marc Tessier-Lavigne, and its law school dean, Jenny Martinez, have apologized to Duncan. Students responded to the apology with a protest during Martinez’s class on constitutional law. On Wednesday, Martinez wrote a 10-page public memo criticizing students’ behavior at the judge’s talk and announcing a mandatory half-day session on freedom of speech for all law students. The conflict is a microcosm of today’s political polarization. Duncan is a pugnacious conservative. His critics see him as a bully who denies basic rights to vulnerable people. His defenders call him a good conservative judge. But even many people who disagree with Duncan’s views have been bothered by the Stanford students’ behavior. Over the past few years, some American universities have seemed to back away from their historical support for free speech.

Negative words in news headlines generate more clicks (Nieman Lab) Why is all the news so negative? Maybe it’s because journalists are naturally drawn to aberrations—outliers from the norm—and those tend to be more bad than good. After all, a flight landing safely isn’t a story, but one crashing into the ocean sure is. Heck, maybe it’s because the world is just inherently a dark and depressing place—a theory the past decade or so seems ready to endorse. Or maybe it’s because it sells. News publishers, as rational economic actors, want to maximize the audience for everything they do, and there’s something about the negative lens on reality that draws eyeballs to copy. Those suspecting that last culprit find support in a new study just published in the journal Nature Human Behavio(u)r. The title says it all: “Negativity drives online news consumption.” The study found: Add a negative word to your headline—words like harm, heartbroken, ugly, troubling, angry—and get 2.3% more clicks, on average. And adding a positive word—like benefit, laughed, pretty, favorite, kind—does the opposite and keeps people from clicking.

'Mega strike' in Germany: Flights, trains and buses cancelled during mass walkout starting on Sunday (Euronews) There is likely to be widespread travel chaos across Germany early next week, after two of the country's biggest transport unions called a nationwide strike. It is set to be the biggest strikes the country has seen in 30 years. The mass strike follows a series of failed talks with employers in recent weeks.

Deutsche Bank shares drop amid global jitters over banks (AP) Shares in Deutsche Bank fell sharply Friday, dragging down other major European banks and leading German Chancellor Olaf Scholz to express confidence in the country’s largest lender after fears about the global financial system sent fresh shudders through the market. Deutsche Bank shares closed down 8.5% on the German stock exchange after falling as much as 14%. That followed a steep rise in the cost to insure bondholders against the bank defaulting on its debts, known as credit default swaps. Rising costs on insuring debt were also a prelude to Swiss lender Credit Suisse’s government-backed rescue by rival UBS. Like Credit Suisse, Deutsche Bank is one of 30 globally significant financial institutions, with international rules requiring it to hold higher levels of capital reserves because its failure could cause widespread losses.

Thousands of civilians ‘at the limit of existence’ in Ukraine’s Bakhmut, Red Cross says (Reuters) Some 10,000 Ukrainian civilians, many elderly and with disabilities, are clinging on to existence in horrific circumstances in and around the besieged city of Bakhmut, the International Committee of the Red Cross (ICRC) said on Friday. Russian forces have been trying for months to capture the city in Europe’s bloodiest infantry battle since World War Two. Several thousand are estimated to remain in the city itself, said the ICRC’s Umar Khan, who has been providing them with aid in recent days. “For the civilians that are stuck there, they are living in very dire conditions, spending almost the entire days in intense shelling in the [underground] shelters,” he told a Geneva press briefing by video link from Dnipro in Ukraine. “All you see is people pushed to the very limits of their existence and survival and resilience.”

Ukraine using Soviet-era choppers to pummel Russia from afar (AP) Skimming the treetops, three Soviet-era attack helicopters bank and swoop down on a field after an early-morning mission to the front lines in the fight against Russia’s invasion of Ukraine. Each day, they might fly three or four sorties, says the commander, whose two-crew Mi-24 helicopter, built about 40 years ago, is older than he is. “We are carrying out combat tasks to destroy enemy vehicles, enemy personnel, we are working with pitch-up attacks from a distance from where the enemy can’t get us with their air defense system,” said the commander. The conflict in Ukraine is largely an artillery war, with territory being fought for inch by inch under a barrage of shells and missiles. But Ukraine’s aviation capabilities play a significant role in the fight, the pilot said.

Little room for maneuver as U.S.-China ties slide further (Reuters) President Joe Biden said last month after a U.S. fighter jet shot down a suspected Chinese spy balloon that he planned to speak to Chinese President Xi Jinping about the episode and clear the air between the rival superpowers. Five weeks later, the call still hasn’t happened. Instead, after two months of diplomatic sniping and Xi’s trip this week to Moscow where he and Russian President Vladimir Putin jointly denounced the United States, U.S.-China relations have slid to what some say is the worst since the countries normalized ties in the 1970s. Further complicating matters are stopovers in the United States next week and in early April by Taiwan’s President Tsai Ing-wen. “This is not a good moment for American diplomacy,” said William Kirby, a professor of Chinese studies at Harvard University. “In past times, when the relationship encountered a major dip, as after the Tiananmen massacre of 1989 or the Taiwan Strait crisis of 1995-96, the two countries made serious efforts to reestablish a stable foundation under their relations,” said Michael Swaine, a China expert at the Quincy Institute. “Now a deepening level of suspicion, vitriol, and finger-pointing dominate almost all exchanges, preventing substantive engagement.”

Saudi Arabia, Syria may restore ties as Mideast reshuffles (AP) Saudi Arabia is in talks with Syria to reopen its embassy in the war-torn nation for the first time in a decade, the latest diplomatic reshuffling in the region. The announcement on state TV comes after Chinese-mediated talks in Beijing saw Saudi Arabia and Iran agree to reopen embassies in each others’ nations after years of tensions. Syrian President Bashar Assad has maintained his grip on power in the Mediterranean nation rocked by the 2011 Arab Spring only with the help of Iran and Russia, which made a historic call earlier in the day to Oman. Arabic-language media had been reporting the possible detente in recent days ahead of the Saudi state TV announcement. The Wall Street Journal, quoting anonymous Saudi and Syrian officials, attributed the talks to reopen the countries’ embassies to Russian mediation.

Millions in African countries need power (AP) From Zimbabwe, where many must work at night because it’s the only time there is power, to Nigeria where collapses of the grid are frequent, the reliable supply of electricity remains elusive across Africa. The electricity shortages that plague many of Africa’s 54 countries are a serious drain on the continent’s economic growth, energy experts warn. In recent years South Africa’s power generation has become so inadequate that the continent’s most developed economy must cope with rolling power blackouts of eight to 10 hours per day. Africa’s sprawling cities have erratic supplies of electricity but large swaths of the continent’s rural areas have no power at all. In 2021, 43% of Africans—about 600 million people—lacked access to electricity with 590 million of them in sub‐Saharan Africa, according to the International Energy Agency.

Zimbabwe’s Latest Creative Currency: a Slice of Cheese (WSJ) Zimbabwe, the country that brought the world the one-hundred-trillion-dollar bill, has reached a new stage of monetary dysfunction. Because of a lack of small change, businesses have started printing their own “money”—scraps of paper, sometimes handwritten, that customers can use to pay for future purchases. Others are handing out change in-kind, making customers whole with juice boxes, pens or slices of cheese. The paper chits and other pecuniary workarounds are the latest products of two decades of extreme mismanagement of Zimbabwe’s currency.

Space Junk (Bloomberg) A new study out of NASA’s Office of Technology, Policy, and Strategy sought to figure out the most cost-effective way of dealing with the problem of space junk, which imperils the 7,200 working satellites in orbit. They’re also joined in orbit by 36,500 objects larger than 4 inches in size, 1 million objects between 0.4 and 4 inches in size, and 130 million pieces of debris smaller than that. Obviously, this is a problem, and there are lots of ideas to solve it, from space tug boats that clean space junk for costs of $6 billion to smaller hypothetical craft that could move small junk out of the way for $900,000 per kilogram of debris. But the reality is, the most cost-effective thing to do is just to keep moving satellites out of the way. The paper put the cost of doing that at $58 million a year for satellite operators, which is a lot of money, but also way less in the long run than the proposed alternatives would command. Indeed, the estimated cost of moving a $500 million satellite out of the way of some junk was $699, which is pretty reasonable.

[college-girl199328]

The union representing more than 200 workers facing unemployment after Canfor announced its plan to permanently shut down the pulp line at Prince George Pulp Mill still doesn’t know how many positions will be lost.

Chuck LeBlanc, president of Local 9 of the Public and Private Workers of Canada and a millwright at PG Pulp, says some workers at the plant have already left the mill to take other jobs.

“We’re still in a holding pattern waiting for the company to come back and give us some firmed-up numbers, and we’ve got a meeting with them (Tuesday) afternoon, and I’m hoping tomorrow we’ll have a much better understanding of where they’re going to go,” said LeBlanc.

He said several other pulp companies have hosted job fairs to recruit some of the affected Canfor employees. Some have indicated they will accept job offers from the Tidewater Midstream refinery adjacent to Prince George's County, which is undergoing an expansion to build a renewable diesel plant.

PPWC has proposed early retirements for some of its older employees, which could save a few jobs for workers at the lower end of the seniority chain. LeBlanc is still awaiting company decisions on what those retirement packages will contain.

“We need clarity on that--whether they will do it or not--because it makes a big difference down the lines of progression in different departments,” LeBlanc said.

Some P.G. Pulp employees will be shifted to Canfor’s Intercontinental Pulp Mill, which will bump employees with less seniority out of their jobs and require retraining for those who remain with the company. Some Intercon employees about to lose their jobs will be retained temporarily to show their replacements from PG Pulp how to perform their job duties.

“Probably 50 percent of our people will have a different job, and some of them have never been to Intercon; they’ve spent their entire careers at P.G. (Pulp), and now they will have to move over there and learn their area and where everything is located,” said LeBlanc. “Each process has its own way of working; it’s similar but not exactly the same.”

LeBlanc is not aware of any plan Canfor might have to repurpose the P.G. Pulp plant to make any alternate products. Some of the more modernized machinery used for the pulp line will be dismantled and sent to the company’s Intercon or Northwood Pulp Mill facilities.

“Unless they keep the power boiler running to supply power, I really don’t see them doing other stuff with the physical plant itself; you just don’t convert a pulp mill into something to manufacture something else very easily,” he said.

Including management staff and other non-union employees, as many as 300 workers could be affected. The ripple effect of the mill closure on local support industries and contractors that provide goods and services to P.G. Pulp is expected to cost the city’s economy an estimated $100 million annually.

Because more than 50 employees will be affected, Canfor is required to issue at least eight weeks' notice on layoffs. The plant will stop receiving chips on April 3, and the shutdown and cleanup processes will likely be completed by the end of April, which means the affected workers will keep their jobs for at least the next two months.

The stress on families facing an uncertain future ever since the pending closure was announced on Jan. 12 is taking a toll, and LeBlanc wants to remind his members to take advantage of counselling supports available through the company’s Employment and Family Assistant Program.

“Last week I was out with a couple of our executive members walking the two pulp mills and just talking to the crews, and we’re doing that again this week,” said LeBlanc. “We’re just reasserting that to everybody here who notices any of our members displaying behaviours that are not normal for them or has somebody else talk to them about what’s going on.”

LeBlanc will be one of the guest speakers at the Future of Forestry forum discussion Tuesday night at 6:30 p.m. at the Canfor Theatre at UNBC.

[bishamconsulting]

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[macgyvermedical]

Some thoughts on COVID right now:

I shaved my beard again today. Heading into another clean-shaven Christmas. Last time it was so I could wear a fitted N95 to work in some vaccine clinics and help out on a floor. This time it's to work in an ED.

I don't get paid more for this. I'm not necessarily trained for it. It's just that we're so low on staff and beds that they need anyone whose not working somewhere else to care for the people who are being boarded in the ED. At least I get some experience out of it.

We have almost exactly the same number of covid+ inpatients we did last year at this time. And that was before widespread vaccine availability. And that's after a 20% reduction in bedspaces because we just don't have the staff. 1/3 of all patients in the system are covid+.

When I talked to our emergency management person where people were going to go if we were out of beds, she said, matter of factly "well, people are going to die".

22 months ago I remember one of our docs saying that if this thing killed 2%, that was 2 people out of our department. "Who was going to die?" he wondered. One of our LPNs was the first to die of covid. Then he died of covid (at least partially) a few months later.

It's weird straddling a world where you go to a gas station or a grocery store or a restaurant and everyone thinks its over. I had a patient ask me when we were going to stop wearing masks because covid had been gone for months. I had just asked if he had gotten the vaccine. He had not.

And then you go to work where everything's just as bad as it was this time last year. Except that it's worse. There's fewer staff, fewer resources, less of everything.

And it's not just vents this time around. Nearly a quarter of the jobs in my hospital system are unfilled right now. There are no definite brands of materials either. It seems weird, but two years ago it would be really weird to see four different brands of gloves on the same shelf.

Now, like the shelves at the grocery store sometimes just filled with a bunch of the same stuff to take up space, or being out of half n half for three weeks in a row, it's something you're just kind of used to, to the point where you don't even notice.

But, like, with an unstable supply chain and a lack of workers and an ever-growing threat of illness and death by a virus that more than half the population thinks is last year's problem and won't roll up a sleeve to save themselves from, I am ever more sure that a virtually unstoppable collapse is coming. Even before whatever the heck 2024 is going to be.

And, yeah, I look really weird clean shaven.

[seijorhi]

Can I request for Corrupt CEO Oikawa and female assistant? She finds out he’s involved in shady underground business and tries to quit. Non-con smut, pretty please 🥺 I love your fics! I enjoy reading dark content. Your smut is amazing I’m addicted💖

Let me preface this by saying there will probably be a part 2 to this fic

Oikawa Tooru x female reader

TW implied non-con, blood, violence (nothing too graphic I don’t think?)

The Lion’s Den

The invitation to dinner should have been the first red flag.

You’d left the letter on his desk next to his morning coffee, stacked neatly on top of the reports and documents he’d asked you to prepare the night before. Impossible to miss.

You weren’t exactly sure what kind of a response you were expecting - a call into his office, cool indifference, security guards showing up at your desk to promptly escort you out - but the innocuous calendar invite that flashes across your screen twenty minutes after he arrived wasn’t it.

8:30pm, Da Graziella. Don’t be late x

The name was familiar - upscale, Italian and one of Oikawa’s favourites. He knew the owner, or so he’d told you, always got treated like royalty whenever he set foot inside. You used to wonder about that, why certain people seemed to bow and simper and scrape whenever he was around. Initially, you’d assumed it was because he had money and with money came perceptions of power. Of course, now you know better. It’s the reason why you wrote that letter - the reason why you should decline the invitation as politely as you can.

But you don’t.

Not because you’re scared of him - you’re terrified - but you want this to go as smoothly as possible, and there is absolutely no reason for you to be scared of Oikawa Tooru.

Not unless you knew the truth, and knowing the truth would put you in a very precarious position. 

The cursor hovers over the invite for a long moment when you feel a prickle at the back of your neck. Sure enough, when you glance up, there’s a pair of dark brown eyes staring at you from behind the glass wall that separates his office and yours.

Swallowing tightly, you click accept.

Oikawa smiles.

***

It’s a prestigious role, being the personal assistant for the CEO of Seijoh Industries, but it wasn’t the one you’d signed onto the company to do. You were an intern, fresh out of university, eager to put the last four years of your education to good use. 

They’d put you in the marketing department with six other grads and told you that at the end of the year there would be one permanent position on the team you’d all get to compete for. The first three months had consisted of coffee runs, minute taking at meetings (so many meetings), excel spreadsheets and grunt work the actual team couldn’t be bothered with, and you were almost positive that things were going to continue that way until your team was picked to lead the campaign for the new launch. For a while it did - meetings, minutes and coffee, rinse and repeat. Except now your meetings included the senior VP’s and him - the CEO. Oikawa Tooru. 

Of course nobody joined Seijoh without knowing about its charismatic founder. He was filthy rich, naturally, but he’d built this company from the ground up with his own two hands, made it into the powerhouse that it is. The media adored him, not just for his devastatingly handsome looks, but because he gave back to the community - a philanthropist at heart. He was the perfect poster boy for success in business.

(If only they knew how their poster boy really made his money.)

And he smiled so warmly and thanked you when you passed him his coffee. It wasn’t long until you felt those dark brown eyes seeking you out when the meetings dragged on, the playful glimmer and subtle twitching of his lips saying more than he could get away with - even as the CEO.

Still, you hadn’t expected it when he called you up to his office only a few weeks later to offer you the role of his personal assistant. You can’t quite remember the exact reasons he gave as to why; something about dedication and the diligence you’d shown. You’d caught his attention, and he needed somebody like you since he’d unfortunately had to let his last assistant go.

It was flattering, but being a PA wasn’t the career path you’d wanted at Seijoh. When you’d bashfully tried explaining as much, Oikawa had just waved away your concerns with a pretty smile and a laugh. In marketing, you were a glorified worker drone, one of six. Even if you did get the coveted promotion at the end of it all, you’d still be at the very bottom of the food chain, working yourself to the bone trying to make a mark on a company far bigger than yourself. With him, yes you would still be doing coffee runs and scheduling meetings and all of those mundane tasks, but you’d be working with one of the most powerful men in the country. Oikawa could open doors for you, and he could do it while making sure you received a generous salary for your efforts.

Your parents told you once never to look a gift horse in the mouth. 

How could you possibly say no?

***

After handing in your letter of resignation, the rest of your day goes reasonably smoothly. Oikawa’s gone for most of it. His calendar says he’s in back to back meetings all day, meetings which for once you were exempt from attending. It might have been a cause for concern if it hadn’t been on the agenda for days - some disgruntled shareholder that needed to be pacified, or so he’d told you.

You’re secretly glad for the reprieve; you have four weeks left at Seijoh and you’re still not entirely sure how you’re supposed to meet your boss’s eye without quaking - and the last thing you want is for him to become suspicious. But without him hovering, interrupting your work every five minutes as he usually does, you’re left alone with your thoughts.

Why dinner? 

Why tonight?

You’re a good personal assistant, at least you think you are - Oikawa’s certainly never complained - but it’s not like you’re irreplaceable. You’ve heard of companies trying to negotiate with higher salaries and benefits to keep good employees, but even an excellent PA is just a PA, and the pay Oikawa has you on is more than generous. You’re good at handling his moods and eccentricities, you don’t mind that he gets irritable and petulant when he’s stressed and you know how his coffee order changes depending on what time of day it is, but that hardly makes you anything spectacular.

If it’s an impromptu thank you for the last year and a half or a farewell from your boss, why not wait until you’re actually finishing up? You’ve given him four weeks notice, even offered to train up your replacement if they manage to find somebody beforehand.

Which leaves you with the possibility that he knows the real reasons behind your sudden resignation - a thought that fills you with a biting unease.

But he has no reason to even suspect such a notion.

He couldn’t have known you’d come back to his house that night, or what you’d overheard - what you’d seen. One week later and you still can’t close your eyes without visions of blood and brain matter splattering across the walls, but-

It’s a popular restaurant. Respectable. You’re reading too much into it, Oikawa’s probably just curious about why you’re suddenly moving on from Seijoh. He’s always been a little blurry on the lines between personal and professional - at least where you’re concerned. And it’s not like the two of you haven’t gone out for meals together before, he’s often dragging out of the office for ‘work lunches’ or a celebratory dinner when a project goes well.

People quit their jobs every day. You have absolutely nothing to worry about.

Except when you arrive at Da Graziella and the maître d' takes your coat and leads you inside, you realise that the assumption you’d been clinging to was very, very wrong.

There’s not a soul inside of the restaurant save for Oikawa, watching you from the lone table set up in the centre of the room. Bathed in the warm, flickering light of the nearby candles, Oikawa smiles as you falter, your wide eyes darting around the empty restaurant before settling back on him.

There’s a pit in your stomach, an icy tendril of fear that creeps up your spine. It’s a familiar sensation - you’d felt it back at the mansion too, the moment you’d glanced through the crack in his office door and saw him eyeing the handguns in the open briefcase on his desk. You should have left then, before you’d seen anything incriminating, and you should definitely leave now - but it’s too late for that.

It was too late the moment you set foot inside. 

You’ve walked willingly into the lion’s den, all you can do now is smile and pray that it’s not in the mood to play with its food.

“Ah, wonderful, you’re early. Would you like some wine to start off with, darling?” Oikawa asks. “You look beautiful, by the way.”

The endearment is new, but you can’t seem to focus on that when your heart is hammering against your chest. Easing yourself into the seat pulled for you, you wet your lips, but even then you can’t quite seem to make the words come out. 

No matter, Oikawa chooses for you, murmuring the name of an italian vintage to the maître d' who nods approvingly and disappears, leaving the two of you alone.

“S-sir?” you finally manage to utter, though it comes out as more of a question than a greeting, “I- why is everyone…”

“Gone?” he supplies for you, taking a sip from his own glass. He shrugs leisurely, “I figured that it would be nicer if it were just us two, don’t you agree?”

No.

“Oh, um, yeah… I guess.”

He laughs, the sound like chiming bells and you know that he doesn’t believe you. It doesn’t matter, you’re here and alone and there is very little you can do to change either of those things. “So tense, Y/N. Really, you should relax. I would have thought after almost two years together, you’d know that I don’t bite.”

More images flash to the forefront of your mind; the sneer curling at his lips as he yanks out his pocket squares and uses it to wipe the splatter of blood from his face. One body on the floor, the other squirming away from his outstretched hand. The crunch of bones breaking, pleading whimpers and then-

No, Oikawa might not bite, but that doesn’t set you at ease.

But even now, doubt flickers. He can’t have known you were there, that you’d overheard the talk of shipments and bribes, a deal gone wrong. Nobody saw you come, you have your own set of keys. He can’t know.

He can’t know.

He can’t… 

Oikawa’s grin widens, twisting into a smirk. “Well, that, and I suppose that I don’t particularly think what’s about to be said makes for polite dinnertime conversation. At least not where most people are concerned.”

Fear strikes at your heart, constricting until it hurts to breathe, but you will your tense muscles to relax, force what you hope - pray - is a convincing expression of mild confusion and absolutely nothing else onto your face.

“I’m sorry, sir?”

It’s a wonder that he can’t hear the frantic pounding of your chest as he leans closer, dropping his chin onto a propped up arm, “Tell me something, darling. If I’d invited you back to my humble abode instead of this restaurant, would you have come?” 

You swallow tightly, the tiny hairs on the back of your neck standing on end. There’s a look in those pretty brown eyes, a glint of something darker, something amused - it reminds you of a cat toying with a mouse and it sets you on edge. “You did leave so quickly the last time you dropped by. You didn’t even stop to say hello.”

Ice douses your system as sheer panic spikes. You’re out of your seat before your brain even registers you’ve moved, knocking it clear from the table in your stumbling haste - but Oikawa’s faster. Long, pale fingers seize your wrist, keeping you in place with a deceptively strong grip.

Those fingers, trailing softly along the barrel of the gun. It’s more than cursory, there’s something almost loving and tender in the way he traces the smooth ridges of the weapon before he picks it up, testing its weight in his hand. Oikawa hums thoughtfully, eyeing the crying man kneeling before him. “Beautiful, don’t you think?”

“Sit back down.” His voice is pleasant, but even as adrenaline pumps through your veins urging you to run, to fight - you know better than to believe it’s anything less than an order. “Good girl,” he purrs as you fumble for your chair.

Back at the mansion, you’d been scared. Horrified at the cold brutality of what you’d witnessed, your entire world seemingly falling out from beneath you. But even with your thoughts a hysterical tangle and nausea threatening to overtake you, your only focus had been on getting out unseen.

This, sitting face to face with a mobster - a man you thought you knew - with all the cards laid bare before you… it’s a whole new kind of terror. He could kill you, with his hands wrapped around your throat or the gun he’s undoubtedly carrying, it doesn’t make a difference. You’re not strong enough to fight him off and the only other person you’ve seen since arriving is the maître d' - you might have wilfully walked into this trap, but you’re not so naive as to believe Oikawa doesn’t have him and any other employees working tonight firmly in his pockets. They won’t come if you scream. 

Tears prick at your eyes. 

You are utterly alone and entirely at his mercy, and all that you can do is beg.

“Please, please, sir, I… I swear I-I didn’t see anyth-”

A single raised finger stops you. Oikawa tuts, shaking his head. “I don’t appreciate being lied to, Y/N. I know exactly what you saw, and I can guess well enough what you overheard. Certainly enough for those irritating little cops to start sticking their noses where they don’t belong if you decided to talk. Do you really think I’d leave my home open for just anybody to waltz in without my knowledge? Please, darling. What kind of a man do you take me for?” he laughs, and you fight back a broken plea, desperately biting down on your lip in an effort to stop yourself from crying.

“But,” he continues, reaching across the table to take your hand once more, “I don’t want you to worry about that, sweetheart. It’s in the past - and not why I asked you here.”

His thumb strokes the back of your palm causing goosebumps to prickle along your arms. Your heart is sitting in your throat, your stomach twisting in knots at the casual, innocent touch. You’re trembling in your seat, on the verge of ears and it feels like he’s testing you, except you don’t have a clue what you’re supposed to say, and you’re terrified that if you get it wrong, he’ll hurt you. “… I-it isn’t?”

Oikawa smiles, “No. I suppose in a way, it’s a blessing in disguise that you saw me for all that I am. It’s forced me to do something I should have done a long time ago.”

After a beat of silence and a gentle squeeze of your cold, rigid hand, you realise that he’s waiting for you to play along. “O-oh, um. What’s that?” your voice shakes, betraying the rapidly rising fear and panic eating away at you, but Oikawa pays it no mind.

“I understand why you resigned after witnessing what you did… it scared you, didn’t it? I scare you.”

There’s no point in lying, not when the evidence is right in front of him, so you nod.

He sighs heavily, but the amused glint in his eyes doesn’t shift. Even now, he’s still toying with you. “You’re a terrible actress,” he declares absentmindedly before his gaze sharpens. “There was always going to be an expiration date on our little arrangement, as much as I might have wished it otherwise.” 

There’s something strangely wistful in his expression as he toys with your fingers, but the words, the gilded implications woven between them, fly right over your head. All you can focus on is the pounding of your heart and the sharp drag of every breath filling your lungs as you wait for the penny to drop. “We can’t go back to what we had before, but you understand, don’t you, darling, that I can’t just have you wandering around knowing what you do.”

Your stomach drops, eyes widening in abject horror, “Please - please, Oikawa sir-”

He continues as if you hadn’t spoken. “If I offered you a choice; come willingly with me back home without making a fuss or I blow your pretty brains across the restaurant here and now, which would you pick?” he muses.

Fear is a funny thing. It makes the logical illogical, turns rational thought to mush, pushes you into a state of instinct that overrides everything else. Common sense would tell you that the threat of torture and whatever other nastiness that might await you back at Oikawa’s mansion was still the preferable option to the certainty of death at his hands should you refuse, but common sense had long since abandoned you. 

As a fresh wave of adrenaline surges through your veins, you rip your hand from his and leap to your feet. This time you don’t give him a moment, kicking off your heels to sprint for the door. Distantly you register the hissed curse behind you. All you can think of is escape, running until Oikawa and the restaurant and everything you’d seen and learned was left in the dirt behind you. You don’t want to die, but you can’t bear the thought of what he’ll do to you if you submit. Will he drag it out, make your death slow and painful? Let you rot in the basement, forgotten by everyone? Will he make you beg and plead for mercy before he ends it?

Fear makes you clumsy - it slows you down. 

You make it five steps before a pair of arms constrict around you, one around your waist, hauling you up from the floor, the other around your mouth, muffling the hysterical scream that rips from your throat. Legs flailing, kicking uselessly at nothing, you’re wrestled back inside. Oikawa’s lips are at your ear, growling something but you can’t make sense of the words over your harsh, panicked sobs, the sound of your frenzied pulse pounding in your ears. 

It’s only when you’re tossed like a sack of potatoes back onto the table, knocking the air from your lungs that time seems to slow and clarity returns. Oikawa’s looming over you, panting, dark pupils swallowing the iris, yet instead of the fury you expect to see written across his face, Oikawa is grinning - wide and delighted. 

“Wrong choice, baby,” he sings, quickly shucking off his jacket before grabbing the top of your dress and ripping. 

Your eyes zero in on the handgun strapped to his chest, just within arms reach. 

“But it’s okay,” he kisses you, moaning as he forces your mouth open, nipping harshly at your lips when you try to squirm away. “I forgive you, always sweetheart, you just have to make it up to me.”

[manonblaqkbeak]

Motel Living

this idea would not leave me alone, despite me having like three other fics barely done. it is very random. i dont even know what to say lol.

2554 words

enjoy!

Today was officially the one month anniversary of Aelin moving into a three-star motel. She did not think she'd be here for long, a couple of weeks at most, but here she was a month later, and on a Friday night no less. She should have been out with her friends, but she opted to stay inside.

She had to tell herself that she shouldn't complain. That there were people that were worse off than her. Living in a motel was fine.

But it still didn't change the fact that Aelin wished she wasn't living in a motel room. Especially one that was popular with long haul truckers whose snores sounded like chain saws and blenders on the highest level. That right now, down in the restaurant/pub that was only six doors down, an important football game was playing and the patrons inside were cheering wildly.

Aelin missed the house that she had been renting the last three years. Last year she had decided to start saving so that she could purchase the house itself, since it was still on the market since the day she moved in. It was hard, but Aelin was a determined woman and she set her sights on purchasing the house—she felt like she practically owned it anyway—up until the day she received a call from the real estate agency telling her that the house had been purchased and she had to move out.

Aelin disliked crying, but the waterworks started the minute she hung up. She really did love that house. Had created a small vegetable and herb garden to make it feel more homely. Made it hers in the three years she had occupied it.

There was a tiny silver-lining, however, since the new owners were coming from the other side of the continent, she had plenty of time to pack and move out.

But that silver-lining quickly disappeared once she started her search for a new home in-between packing and work. Every apartment, every house, every unit she looked out at was taken by the time she handed in her application. Every inspection starting to become fruitless when she knew that she wouldn't be the one to live in it.

Aelin hadn't realised that the market had become so cut-throat. She knew she was the perfect applicant because in all her years renting she never missed a single day, never received a complaint. Even when the landlord dragged his ass to fix something, Aelin kept her temper in its leash and did not throttle him the way she wanted too.

And as her luck ran out and Aelin had started to truly worry about where she was going to live because while she had multiple people in her life, she quickly realised that she couldn't ask any of them if she could move in for multiple reasons:

Aedion and Lysandra were recently married, and Aelin hadn't wanted to burst their newlywed bubble.

Chaol and Yrene were brand new parents, their baby girl born the day Aelin moved out, and she knew the last thing they wanted was someone else in the way.

Nehemia was in the same position as her, but her parents had invited her back home while Nehemia looked for somewhere else. Aelin's parents were dead, and her childhood home had been destroyed in a wildfire a five years ago, and Aelin had used the insurance money to pay off her debts. She cursed herself now for doing that, but Aelin hated being in debt and she did what she had too.

Fenrys lived in a one bedroom unit and had the worlds most uncomfortable couch, so he was out. And while Fenrys was one of her best friends, she didn't really talk with Connall, his twin. Nor did she often talk with Vaughn.

Dorian and Manon were travelling all over Erilea and Dorian's younger brother Hollin was house-sitting. Aelin couldn't stand Hollin for more than a few minutes at a time and she would rather live in the motel for a year than live in with him.

And then there was Rowan. He had been a close friend for years, until five months ago they decided that they had liked each other too much to keep being friends and officially started dating (at Lysandra and Aedion's wedding, of all places). If they had been together for longer, she would have asked him—but she didn't want to rush anything, because Aelin could so clearly see a future with him and she didn't want to hurt that future by moving in far too early in their relationship.

So that left Elide, her lifelong friend that was more like a sister. Elide was purely on the bottom of the list since she knew her friend cherished living alone after living in a shit-hole with her even shittier uncle—but Aelin knew Elide and if Aelin needed a place to stay, then Elide's door would be wide open. The two had gone to lunch and Aelin had been just moments away from telling Elide everything and asking for a world changing favour.

Until Elide had excitedly announced that Lorcan was going to move in.

And Aelin's plan had deflated. Again, Aelin knew that if Elide was aware of how desperate she was, Elide would invite Aelin to stay, but since Lorcan and Aelin didn't particularly get along, Aelin kept her mouth shut and congratulated her friend for the new milestone in their relationship.

So, all her options completely exhausted, Aelin looked for vacant motels, found that this was the best out of all the options and became a long-standing tenant.

Aelin had managed to keep everyone away from her new apartment by claiming that it wasn't ready for visitors. Most knew that Aelin was house-proud, a trait that she had inherited from her late mother, so they knew that when Aelin was ready, she would invite them.

It was getting hard, however, to keep Rowan away. Each date night and hang out ended up at his apartment and Rowan was becoming curious as to how her new place was looking.

Rowan wasn't judgemental, and he wouldn't look down at her for living in a motel room, but Aelin was the problem; she was too proud to show him her new place. Even when she was at her lunch with Elide, she had to beat down her pride at just the mere thought of asking Elide if she could move in.

Tonight, however, Aelin knew in her bones that Rowan would ask to come over. He had a completely shitty day at work—one that ended up in the hospital because for the first time in his career as a carpenter, Rowan had somehow gotten his hand in the way of his nail gun and shot right through the middle of his palm and was off work until it healed, which Rowan hated the most out of the whole ordeal, since Rowan was the type of person that always had to be doing something.

So when his face finally popped up on her phone screen, Aelin muffled a groan into her pillow (because there was no way in hell she was using the standard sheets the motel provided, she needed her bedding or she wouldn't get any sleep), took a deep breath and plastered a smile onto her face.

“How's the hand?” she asked by way of greeting.

“It'd be a lot better if there wasn't a hole in it,” was his groggy reply. “I just woke up from the longest nap and thought of you.”

“That's sweet of you to say,” Aelin said, “do you want me to come over? I could cook you my world famous grilled cheese.” Please say yes, she thought, please.

“As much as I love the sound of that, I just need to get out of my house,” Rowan said, “I know that you're house-proud and if you don't want me to see it, I understand, I'll even wear a blind fold if that'll make you happy, but I just...” he trailed off and Aelin could see his pained expression even though they were miles apart.

“Seeing all your work tools is making you miserable,” she supplied. Rowan grunted in confirmation. Taking a deep breath, Aelin said, “You can come over, I don't mind. I'd be happy to see you.” And she would be. She'd just have to kick her pride in the corner. “There's a pub right around the corner from mine and the cheeseburgers they have are really fucking good, and I mean that sincerely. Do you want me to get you one? Because I only have snacks and canned food at the moment.”

“A burger sounds good, with extra tomato, please.”

Aelin smiled. “Of course, I'll text you the address, and I'll see you soon.”

After ordering their dinner, Aelin tidied up (even though the space was immaculate) and waited, and waited. When a gentle knock sounded at her door, Aelin took the food from the restaurant worker and was just about to go back in when Rowan's truck pulled up.

Even ten car spots away, Aelin could see his puzzled expression from where she stood. Placing the food on the small, round dining table, Aelin waited by the door and gave Rowan her best smile when he stood in front of her.

His puzzled expression melted away momentarily when she kissed him hello, but it was back in full force when they pulled away.

“Fireheart,” was all he said, and it said everything that he didn't say.

“I know.”

“You're living in a motel room.” There was no judgement in his voice, like she knew there wouldn't be, but it was clear that he was confused about the whole thing. She should have just told him. She loved her late mother, but really hated the fact that she had passed her pride to Aelin. She hated the fact that, deep down, she was embarrassed, even if Aelin told herself that she had no reason to. The housing market was insane, there was no where else for her to go, and that she hated herself for not saving more money to buy her home of three years.

“I am,” Aelin said, “but it's not so bad. It's affordable and clean.” Aelin invited him inside and sat him down the small dining table.

From his spot, he took in the space. Saw the bar fridge that could barely hold a bags worth of cold food, her toaster oven and the dual butane stove she had to purchase because she didn't want to have to use the toaster oven all the time. The tiny closet that held a decent amount of clothes, but didn't make a dent in her considerable mountain of clothes that she had put away in the storage unit she was renting.

None of her candles were in sight and no books either. Aelin was taking full advantage of her library apps, but it wasn't the same. Aelin loved the feeling of a book in her hands, but there was no space and it would have been silly to bring in her bookcases.

“Where's all your stuff?”

“In a storage unit. I considered living in there, but it doesn't have an air-conditioner and this place does.”

Before Rowan could say anything, Aelin turned on the TV, put on whatever movie sounded dumb enough and ate her dinner.

Aelin could see the question burning in his eyes as she stuffed her mouth to avoid answering that very question.

Why didn't Aelin ask if she could stay with him?

Aelin wanted to tell him, she really did, but was afraid that if she showed how serious she was, Rowan might admit that he wasn't as serious as her.

But Aelin knew herself, knew that she was going to tell him at one point or another. She could tell Rowan anything and he wouldn't flinch. It was her own doubt stopping her.

“That really is the best burger I've ever had,” Rowan said when he was finished.

“It really is,” was all Aelin could think of to say. Gods, she felt so damned awkward. The question was still in Rowan's eyes, even as he laughed at the movie and its stupidity. So to avoid it for a bit longer, Aelin took the take-away boxes into the dumpster outback and immediately went for a shower afterwards.

When she came out, Rowan was lounging on her bed, his injured hand laying across his chest, the other arm fiddling with her comforter. Aelin dressed in a shirt that she may have borrowed without asking from Rowan and a pair of sleep shorts.

Borrowing underneath her comforter, Aelin rested her head on Rowan's chest and the awkwardness she felt deflated a bit as he pressed a kiss on her head.

Aelin told him how she ended up here. Including her embarrassment and annoyance at herself. Rowan listened attentively, as he always did. That was one of the biggest things she loved about him, that he listened. And Aelin was in love with him, she knew without a doubt. She was certain she fell in love with him when he danced with her at Aedion and Lysandra's wedding.

When the credits started to roll, Aelin took a deep breath and decided to plunge into uncharted territories. She kept her eyes glued onto the screen.

Aelin decided to bite the bullet. If it all went to hell, she would beat herself up later.

“I don't want to fuck things up with you.” Well, that wasn't how she wanted to start this conversation, but she supposed it was the best way to start off. “I wanted to ask you if I could move in, but our relationship is just so new, and I didn't want to ruin our future, because I can see a future with you, Rowan.” Moving so that she could look Rowan in the eye, Aelin took the deepest plunge imaginable and told him, “I love you, Rowan. I'm in love with you.”

The smile he gave her was the most beautiful she'd ever seen. “I love you, too, Aelin.” Reaching down to kiss her, all of Aelin's doubts melted away. When he pulled back, Rowan said softly, “If you wish to ask, I'll say yes. Because I see a future with you too. You're the one for me.”

“Rowan, can I move in with you?”

He kissed her again. “Yes, you can.”

Aelin's cheeks were started to become sore from all her smiling. Maybe it was a good thing after all that she ended up living here.

Hours later, after another bad movie and celebrating the new milestone in their relationship (which was mainly Aelin laughing as she rode Rowan because he kept forgetting about his injured hand), Aelin and Rowan got ready for bed, and as Aelin rested her head on his chest again, she said, “Just to let you know, I'm going to replace your mattress for mine, because yours is hard as stone.”

“That's exactly why I'm letting you move in, I'm in the market for a new mattress.”

Aelin playfully whacked his chest and muttered what a buzzard he was, but soon fell asleep with a smile on her face, ready for her future with Rowan.

[m00nchildthings]

Familliar (revamped with added content)

Authors note: So yall remember the first chapter of familliar? Scrap that hoe this the new one it’s dumb long though 11 pages on Microsoft Word TnT Also @alfmoimagines i remembered to tag you

Content Warnings: Dubious Consent, Virginity Taking, Teratophilia, demon fucking, virgin training? ear fucking(with a tongue i’m not that wild). breeding, creampies, cursing, full nelsons, ruts, and i feel like that is all? Enjoy

Familiars were tricky and malevolent creatures, demons that were so lowly in the castes of hell that they lived life better off in the land of mortals then they would in their own native realm. Not that any of them would be humble enough to admit it though. Most familiars stayed under the care of witches for protection, being incapable of possession made them extremely susceptible to attacks by clergymen. Most lands decreed that any demon living as a witch's charge were free of fear of clergy assault, as long as said witch could manage them. For witches, handling a familiar was a precocious balancing act at best and a near soul threatening experience at the worst, especially during their times of rut. This was when only keeping one familiar in service, which is why so many gave you confused looks when you stated that you kept not one but two under your gifted hand.

 Izuku was your first familiar, a small token gifted to you by your mother the eve before you set off to live yourself as every young witch does when they hit that special age. A small rabbit daemon, one of the easiest to handle, was her gift to you. His eyes were a clear emerald and his pelt a slick black that shone green whenever the moonlight encased him. He was a very helpful familiar as far as they went and you were very appreciative of the fact. After near hermiting yourself away in a decent size hut not too far from a village, you found Izuku to be a very beneficial part of your day to day life. Whenever you were off in the town square buying food and supplies for the week you could always count on Izuku to scamper off and find you roots and herbs for your potion. Or in his human form he would help you around the house cleaning and organizing your books for you. He even seemed interested in your craft, helping you with concocting potions and studying spells.

 Now handling Izuku was fairly easy, at least in comparison to the horror stories you heard, during his roots. All it took was a snug leather collar with a calming charm placed on it to keep him from humping anything within a five-foot radius (including you.) Throw in some romance novels of yours for him to read and staying out late at taverns to give him alone time with his hand and Izuku was fairly decent to stand. You just had to make sure to ignore his eyes on you at night as you slept.

 The second familiar you kept was very different to your snuffly little Zuzu. Katsuki as he went by was an absolute brat that wasn’t grateful for anything you had done for him whatsoever.  It had only been a few months since you had found him after leaving the local butcher to make your way home to Izuku. A group of kids were toying with the poor battered creature, a pure white canine with a clergy trap biting into his ankle blood matting his fur. After shooing away the little bastards you pried open the chat wincing as the teeth of the trap sliced your fingers. He stared up at you with one big red eye before groaning and going limp. You took the poor thing home and cleaned his wounds shoving Izuku away as he came to snuff around the new daemon. For the first few days Katsuki was fine to be around, as his wounds healed, he mostly rested, coming in and out of sleep as he gained back his strength. He was quiet and agreeable letting you bathe him to redress his wounds and even crooning as you held his head to feed him. This calm quiet Katsuki lasted for exactly for the first week he lived in your small home.

 The moment he regained his strength it became apparent what a brute Katsuki was as he uprooted your life from its regular calm feeling. Whenever you went out to gather supplies you returned home to find your Izuku cowering in the corner and Katsuki standing in the middle of your ruined living room, smoke billowing off of your singed furniture. He constantly berated Izuku, cursing and complaining about every little thing he could find. He constantly picked fights with Izuku it wasn’t an uncommon sight to come home to find Katsuki pinning Izuku to the ground as your poor bunny kicked at his tummy trying to worm from your grasp. It got to the point that you would have to keep him chained in the cellar and bring Izuku out with you as your familiar refused to be left alone with Katsuki. As ever docile as he was you found Izuku complaining about keeping him around.

 “Mistress,” he whined walking beside you in the town square “why must we keep him with us he’s rude and aggressive and has only made life harder for us since you took him in.” 

 “Zuzu,” you scolded “you know very well why we can’t just throw him out, the clergy would get to him, besides, he’s probably just defensive being in a new environment after such a traumatic experience, we have to be patient with him.”

 “But he’s so disruptive,” Izuku huffed crossing his arms as you stopped by a fruit vendor “he’s taking up so much of your time, you don’t have time to practice, time for me- “

 “Time for you?” you raised an eyebrow placing a few plums into your satchel, paying the vendor and walking away “perhaps your annoyance comes less from our new friends’ unruly nature and more from a place of, dare I say it, jealousy?”

 “I’m not jealous of him!” Izuku exclaimed red smattering underneath his freckles “I’m worried about you, mistress,”

 “And why is that Zuzu?”

 “Rutting season is coming, and if this is how he acts on the regular, imagine how he’ll be during his time,” he turned to you placing a hand on your arm “you might not be safe mistress,”

 You paused mulling over what your familiar had said eyebrows furrowing, he wasn’t wrong. You had grown comfortable with keeping a familiar with easily suppressed ruts, cat daemons were notoriously known for having aggressive ruts. You had overheard a friend of your mothers as she stopped by from afternoon tea, confiding in your mother that her own cat daemon had been so difficult she had no choice to put aside her pride and pull down her panties to keep peace in her house. It was seen as very taboo for a witch to lay with her familiar, shameful even, to be seduced in the bedroom by such a lowly daemon. You yourself had been worried about what would happen when rut time would come with your new household member to worry over.

 “Don’t worry my fluffy little companion,” you placed a hand on his cheeks smiling as his eyes closed and he nuzzled into your palm “I’ll be fine, you should worry about how you’ll be dealing with your time of the year,”

                                        ……………………………………….

It had been about nearly a week since you and Izuku had your little conversation, and you had begun to notice the signs of rut season in your daemons. Izuku was becoming much more grating constantly moving around your stuff in your room rubbing against everything and even snapping back at Katsuki when he would try to intimidate him. Katsuki became the exact opposite of his usual self, at least towards you. He would stalk you silently through your own home eyeing you like prey as you sat reading in your armchair. It had gotten to the point where you would step out of your bath to find Katsuki waiting outside your washroom nostrils flared as he stared down at you, pupils slit. You almost felt scared in your own home, almost. You had two daemons about to reach a sexual peak and you were only fairly sure you could keep one of them in check. This especially became apparent to you one day as you were working on charming Izuku’s heat collar.

 “That won’t work on a daemon like me you know,” Katsuki had grunted from across your kitchenette “I’m twice as fucking powerful at that little runt you keep running after you,”

 “Well what do you suggest I do to make this time easier for you Katsuki,” you say not looking up from your work “did you not have a witch before me to help you through these times?”

 “Yes,” he said pacing closer to you as you worked rubbing the salve into the leather.

 “Well what did she do Kats- “you paused at the hot wet feeling of breath on the back of your neck, his toned arms came to rest on either side of you. Your body seized as you felt his nose bury into your hair and take a deep inhale.

 “She was a good little witch and let me fuck her cunt till I was through,” your eyes widened as you turned your head to stare at him. His red eyes bore into yours as a lecherous grin spread across your face.

 “Come on,” he said leaning down to rub his nose against your cheek “little witches like you act like prudes till you got a big fat daemon cock in your face, let’s just skip the theatrics and get to the part where I’m balls deep in that little witch cunt of yours,” he groaned throatily pressing his hips into you. You shuddered feeling his massive print against your back wondering what it would feel like to have it pressed inside your-

 “Mistress” you heard Izuku’s voice cold and unnervingly steady from across the room, your eyes shot over to Izuku who eyes were glued onto you and Katsuki. You immediately regained your composure pushing Katsuki away from you. Izuku kept his eyes trained on Katsuki glaring at him as you made your way over to him collar in hand. He took it from you when you offered it to him, but his eyes didn’t leave his fellow daemon.

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

 It had been a few days since the incident in the kitchen, spring was coming in and the tension in your household was so palpable you could carve it with a knife. Izuku stuck to you like a barnacle to a ship and Katsuki was never too far behind. It had come to the point that you had begun to hex your door locked, not even allowing your little Zuzu to sleep at the end of your bed. It had been on one of those locked door nights when an interesting discussion occurred between Izuku and Katsuki.

“You know Deku, you’re pretty fucking pathetic, you know that right?” Katsuki said sprawled out over your couch eyes glowing crimson in the moonlight lit room.

 “Shut up Kacchan,” Izuku grumbled, awkwardly curled up in your armchair broad arms hugging his haunches and leather collar tight around his neck, ignoring him Katsuki continued.

 “I mean how long have you been in service to her, how many springs have passed with you jacking into your own fist like a fucking loser, what you think if you’re a good enough pet she’ll let you hump her leg or something?” Katsuki asked picking with his claws at a piece of cotton sticking out of the arm of the suede couch.

 “I don’t know how you and your previous witch worked but y/n and I do not have a relationship like that, she is my mistress and I am her grateful servant, nothing more nothing less,” Izuku huffed tucking into himself even further.

 “Get off your damn high horse, you’re how old now, and never once went through a rut without just your own hand?” Katsuki sucked his teeth and turned to his brethren, red eyes glowing inhuman in the moonlight “you and me together we could probably convince her to give us a hole each,”

 “Kacchan don’t be lewd,” Izuku said sitting up in the chair to glare over his shoulder at Katsuki, who barked out a laugh standing up and uncharacteristically, placed a clawed hand gently on Izuku’s face thumb brushing his cheek.

 “Come on little bunbun,” he rasped a wicked gleam in his eyes “don’t you wanna get your dick wet tonight?”

                       ………………………………………………

 It had been fairly quiet that night, a few growled whispers from your living room but overall quiet compared to usual. Though worries of Katsuki’s impending rut had plagued your brain, worrying if the collar you had made for him would stick, you had been resting peacefully for the majority of the night. Until a loud rapping noise pulled you from out of your slumber. Your eyes opened face twisting in worry as your sat up throwing off your bedsheets.

 “Who is it?”

 “Mistress, it’s me,” your body relaxed as you heard your bunny’s’ voice from outside your bedroom door.

 “What is it Zuzu?” you asked standing slowly, nightgown flowing down your legs.

 “I- I can’t sleep, I know my ruts started, but can I just spend one more night with you, please mistress?” your heart lurched for your boy, his ruts as easily managed as they were, were still hard for him.

 “Ok Zuzu,” you chuckled unlatching one of your locks “for you anything my- “

You felt a hand around your throat before you could finish your sentence, you had expected a pair of pure emerald green eyes to meet your, but you were instead met with scarlet. You were quiet as you were pushed back towards your bed by Katsuki refusing to break eye contact with him as you were forced to plop down on your bed. You stared at the both of them, the collars you had spent so long on were removed from their necks, of course, you had never had to worry about putting on a charm to keep Izuku and Katsuki from taking off their own collar, you hadn’t even thought of the two joining forces.

 “Izuku,” you said turning to find him just behind Katsuki nervously staring down at you, biting at his lower lip “what is the meaning of this?”

 “Mistress I-I can explain- “

 “Then explain yourself!” you snapped watching his looming figure begin to shake and quiver at your tone, you figured if you could get one to balk on their advance the other would be soon to follow. Besides, if the two of them would start to ravish you in their lust filled rut induced haze, you wouldn’t want them to stop, and that thought scared you.

 “Hey, don’t take that tone with us shitty witch,” Katsuki said grabbing your jaw and leaning down till you were eye to eye, invading your space “we’re just the two demons who are gonna take out that stick you got shoved so far up your ass, if you let us,”

 “And pray tell, why would I do that?” you ask folding your arms. Katsuki smirked, and stood up to his full height, before shoving Izuku to you. He landed on top of you wide eyed and red face, the moment your hands pressed against his chest you felt his entire demeanor change. His eyelids begin to droop and his breathing became uneven as his body began to sag pressing into you. His rut had come in fully.

 “M-mistress,” he mumbled eyes darting lazily between your lips and your eyes unsure of which to focus on. Choosing to ignore both he instead pressed his nose into your neck nuzzling you and inhaling your smell moaning dreamily. His wet tongue poked out laying small little kitten licks on you quickly turning to open mouth kisses sucking at your neck.

 “Look at him little witch,” grabbing hold of your hair turning your eyes to him as you tried in vain to push off Izuku “you’ve turned him into a needy little bitch hanging off you for the barest scrap of emotion, you must have known how badly he wanted to fuck that cunt of yours,”

 “It’s true mistress,” Izuku said droopily pulling off trying to cover your neck in his saliva “I want you all the time you’re so amazing, so smart, so powerful, I just want to make you feel good ma’am,” he chirruped loudly staring down at you like you put the stars in the sky. He shifted and you can feel his cock hard and throbbing against your leg. Your face heated as he began rutting against you, he moved to give the same treatment he gave your neck to your chin. You couldn’t lie, it felt good you thought as you bit your lip to stifle a moan.

 “T-this is wrong,” you stuttered as Izuku trailed down sucking on your nipples through your nightgown leaving dark wet spots on the pale silk.

“Is it really,” Katsuki snickered grabbing Izuku by the hair. He moaned in distaste as Katsuki pulled him off of you “don’t complain just yet rabbit, you get to do the most important part, hold her from behind,”

 “Izuku please,” you huff as he wraps his burly arms around yours pulling you close so Bakugou can get to your panties easier “you’re better than this bunny” Midoriya pouts staring down at you with those big green eyes.

“Please mistress, I’m always so good for you right, I never try to run away, and I always help you even when you don’t ask” he pauses for a  second to moan as his hips rut into your ass a few times and then move in close to your ear “the least you can do is let me make love to you mistress I promise I’ll make you feel good,”

“HAH,” Bakugou barks out a cruel laugh from his place in front of view finally managing to rip off your panties “a daemon can’t make love to a witch Deku, but we can fuck them senseless,” he grins lecherously as he pushes a finger inside your cunt already moist from their actions “because as high and mighty as witch bitch might be they all turn into slobbering whores the moment you get your dick in them they’ll beg for it you’ll see.’’

Midoriya groaned, now humping at your naked ass seemingly pleased with that visual image Bakugou had given him, thick cock dragging and leaking precum on your skin. He buried his face in your shoulder softly sucking a spot into your skin as his hands trailed down until his fingers found your clit.

“I read in one of your books that this feels good for girls,” he says swiping back in forth lightly tugging against the hood of your clit as if searching “there’s supposed to be a little “pearl” here, right, it’ll make you go feel good right mistress, I wanna make you feel good,” he croons as his fingers succeed in revealing your clit to the cool bedroom air. He lets out a little happy chirp bringing his other hand down to rub small hard circles on it and you choke eyes crossing at your sensitive nub being played with. Bakugou tsks, sucking his teeth as he watches you pay more attention to the damn bunny daemon then him.

“Hey shitty witch,” he grabs your hair and tugs forcing you to look at him through your pleasure induced haze “don’t get too wet over your little rabbit it’s gonna be my fucking dick in you so pay attention,” he leans forward swiping his rough tongue over your shoulder before biting down groaning as the skin broke and the coppery taste of blood began to fill his mouth, dick jumping at your pained squeals.

“Kacchan be nice it’s her first time,” Midoriya scolds moving one of his hands to pat at your head trying to soothe you “you have to be gentle on a girls first time,” Bakugou groans rolling his eyes before letting your shoulder go and lapping at the little pinpricks of red still there.

           “It’s not my fault she’s too prudish to have gotten human dick before we jumped her,” he grumbles and adds another finger to your slick cunt scissoring to loosen you up for them “don’t expect me to be gentle when I get in here either I’m gonna destroy this little cunt of yours shitty witch,” he growls and adds a third finger curling up into a spot that has you seeing stars and chuckles as he watches your hips start to try to ride his hand.

 You try to hold it back but soft pitiful moans leave your lips, eagerly swallowed up by Izuku as he goes to kiss you sloppily shoving his tongue down your throat. Between Katsuki’s rough thick fingers pistoning into you and Izuku playing with your clit while simultaneously sucking your tongue into his mouth it isn’t long before you feel a tug in your abdomen that quickly turns into a pee like sensation as you cum, squirting all over Katsuki’s hand. He groans speeding up to see your squirt spray as Izuku soothes you pulling away from you to gently massage at your breast and kiss along your neck. Katsuki frowned watching the way Izuku fawned over you, taking all your attention. He sucked his teeth before grabbing you and pulling you close.

 “C’mere, be a good little witch and spread those legs for me,” he growled staring into your eyes as you gulped at his words.

 “Katsuki no,” Izuku said grabbing you and pulling you away “it should be me who gets her first you’re too rough,”

 “I’d like to see you try fucking rabbit,” Katsuki grabbed your hips dragging you till your crotch pressed against his and you could feel his print through his trousers “Your virgin ass would probably only last two pumps before you come in her,” There was a palpable moment in which your room seemed to pulse with Katsuki’s challenge as the two daemons stared each other down over you. You knew that it was up to you to pacify the situation.

 “Wait, wait,” you say sitting up as both their eyes immediately dart to you, you place a hand on Katsuki’s chest “you should at least allow me to choose which of you is first,” You see Katsuki smirk and roll your eyes mentally at his arrogance.

 “Ok then little witch,” he grabs your chin in his hand before pulling you into a domineering kiss, much more practiced than Izuku, rolling his tongue with yours before biting and pulling your lip “you pick.”

 You pull back from Katsuki admittedly shaken by his lustful kiss as you kneel between the two daemons trying to figure who you would want to take you first. On one hand you were more comfortable with Izuku, you knew he would be kind and gentle with you as new to all this as you were. But despite Katsuki’s dominating nature he was more experienced, and you have no doubt that he would take the reins if you let him, as you were rather inexperienced in comparison. The air was tangible in the moment of you deciding.

 “I choose Izuku,” you say. Izuku visibly brightens and shuffles closer to you as Bakugou growls scooching over to the headboard. You helped Izuku take off your nightgown fully as his hands shook with eagerness when he tried.

When the offending garment was finally off Izuku stared down at you wide eyed and all smiles taking in your naked body. His hands reached out slowly trailing over your body, over every curve and dip leaving goosebumps in their wake, before resting on your ass. He cupped a cheek in each hand and pulled you up until your rested on his thighs legs wrapping around his waist. You blushed as you felt his cock press against your stomach, thick in ways that made you tremble in fear or anticipation you couldn’t tell.

 “Shh Shh mistress,” he maneuvered you again until you were on your back and he loomed over you as he leaned down “it’s my first time too we’ll be each other’s first.”

 “God are you gonna fuck her or fuck around Deku?” Katsuki growled from his spot next to you by the headboard dick in hand. Midoriya huffed angrily before turning back to you.

He kissed lovingly at the column of your throat stroking your thighs before spreading them practically cooing at the sight of your virgin cunt glistening with your arousal.

           He grabbed one of your legs wrapping it around his waist as he clumsily fumbled with his member until the tip pressed against your twitching hole. Your breath hitched and your face screwed up tight as the head of his cock caught on your clenching entrance, your Zuzus back hunched as he slid just a fraction into your tight heat shuddering breaths fanning your face as he fought the urge to slam into you. It was unpleasant and foreign feeling the stretch of his cock as he slowly pressed into you, a burning sensation that had you clawing at his back and clenching down on the intrusive member spearing into you.

             “P-please y/n, you’re too tight I- I can’t,” his hot breath filled your space as he paused his breach of your too snug pussy. A rough hand grabs at your jaw directing your attention to Katsuki as he glowers down at you.

             “You need to relax dumbass, if you keep clenching down he won’t be able to push it in all the way,”

 “It isn’t in all the way in yet,” you whimpered, squinted one eye open you looked down to see that only half of Izuku’s cock was inside of you, a good portion of it sitting outside of you.

 “Fucking virgins,” Katsuki growled snapping his fingers at Izuku “you gotta get her to relax, kiss her or something touch her other sensitive parts,”

Midoriya nodded sharply before smashing his lips to yours messily moving his lips against your and knocking your teeth together before Katsuki grabbed his neck dragging him away from the sloppy kiss.

           “Jesus do I have to show you how to do everything dumbass,” Katsuki grunted at an irritated Izuku, annoyed at being interrupted.

           “Katsuki stop butting in-“he’s cut off when Katsuki’s lips press against his own, you watch as the cat daemon showed Izuku what a proper kiss was. Their lips moved together Katsuki pulling out little moans from your Zuzu when he bit his lips demanding entrance to his wet mouth before sliding his rough tongue in. Izuku shuddered wide eyed, cock pulsing inside you as Katsuki’s tongue danced with his own until he pulled away a thin trail of saliva breaking of from the corners of their mouths.

           “That’s how you’re supposed to kiss dumbass,” his rough hands cupped Izuku’s jaw jerking his head to you “now kiss her that way,”

           Izuku again bent down to kiss you, but this time with more tact, your lips moved together more gently and his tongue kitten licked at your bottom lip as opened your mouth tongue immediately running over your mouth as if trying to taste you. A pair of rough fingers began to circle your clit, Izuku’s or Katsuki’s you weren’t sure, but the stimulation of your little nub had you groaning into the kiss legs relaxing around Izuku and wrapping around his waist as he slowly slid the rest of his girth into you. It was a burning deep within you now, not the tearing feeling from before, but a satisfying stretching that had you sucking on Izuku’s invasive tongue as the both of you moaned into each other’s mouths. Finally with a small circulation of his hips Izuku sat snugly inside of your of warm wet cunt he breathed heavily breaking away from the kiss to loom over you, eyes lidded with lust he stared down at you debauched expression not knowing how to handle the feeling of being filled to the brim with a throbbing hot daemon cock.

           “You, you feel amazing mistress,” he groaned clumsily circling his hips into you, your breath caught at the foreign feeling as he his hips rabbited into you, quickly little juts that barely made room between where his thighs pressed into your soft bottom. Behind him you heard Katsuki suck his teeth, clearly unimpressed with Izuku’s method of humping into you, you watched as he grabbed Izuku’s hips biting the rabbit daemon’s sensitive ears. He pulled his hips back ignoring Izuku’s moans as he was dragged out of your clenching cunt wanting nothing more than to thrust back in and snuggle fuck into your intoxicating pussy.

           “No tact whatsoever,” Katsuki growled pulling on the lobe he held in his teeth “no idea how to fuck a pussy, and I though little bunnies like you were supposed to be good at fucking, figures I’d have to show you how to do this to,”

           Katsuki slowly guided Izuku’s hips in and out of you dragging his cock nearly all the way out till the tip caught on your drooling entrance and smoothly sliding it back in angling it so that he knew that spot deep within your gummy walls was graciously caressed. Your back arched off the bed as you moaned hands reaching out for either but ultimately catching on Izuku, nails leaving crescent marks on his biceps and back. His head fell to your neck mouthing there as Katsuki slowly released his hips as he found the rhythm Katsuki had shown him, Katsuki’s hand rested instead rested on Izuku’s freckled behind putting him back on track whenever he lost the beat.

           “That’s it rabbit,” he said guiding him to pick up the pace “give that pussy a good fuck and you’ll have that witch on all fours for you,”

           Izuku got the picture as he pulled up leaving purpling marks on your skin and ignoring the way you whined missing the feel of his weight pressing into you. Instead he grabbed your legs pulling out shuddering as your hole clenched desperately trying to keep him inside. He grabbed your waist flipping you over onto your hands and knees before sliding into you with a fluidity that had your upper half sinking into your pillows. He groaned hands grabbing your sides in a tight grip using his handle on your hips to drag you back to him, as the new position had him so deep in you you found yourself trying to crawl away from him. A sharp clawed hand grabbed your hair jerking you still as Katsuki leaned in close.

           “Stop fucking running witch,” behind you you heard Izuku moan at the sight of Katsuki manhandling you as he jackhammered his cock deep into you kissing your gummy cervix with every thrust.

           “So, so guh mishtress,” his words slurred he threw his head back now fully lost in the throws of his rut “squeezing me uuhhn tight fuckin’ pussy ‘round my cock,” he groaned hips picking up pace. Katsuki moved his hand to play with your painfully sensitive clit the attention causing your legs to tense you came around the cock fucking deep into you, spraying your own cum over the bed with each thrust of Izuku’s cock.

           “Holy shit,” Katsuki breathed biting his own lip in anticipation as he watched you get fucked through your squirting orgasm “you better hurry up rabbit I want my turn,”

           “I’m almost, almost-,” Izuku grunted hunching over you as his hips lost their tune humping sporadically into your still spraying cunt “Cuuhhhmmmiinnng,” he pressed in deep one final time head pressed to your cervix opening pumping your womb full of his heady spunk till it spilled out from you. You both shuddered, you at the feeling of being pumped full for the first time and him at the feeling of having a cunt accept his load for the first time.

           “Damn,” Katsuki said, watching Izuku pull out of you his spunk following suit when his soft cock fully slipped out. Izuku bent down immediately licking his spunk back into your trembling cunt as you whined trying to wriggle away from his prodding tongue on your sensitive cunt. Izuku whimpered as Katsuki grabbed a handful of his curly emerald locks pulling him away from your poor tired cunt before scooping you up in his arms positioning you till you both rested against your pillows and headboard. Your pussy, throbbing and puffy from the pounding it just took jumped as Katsuki slapped his cock up against it, the angry red tip dripping pre on your abdomen. You whimpered squirming away from the pleasure that was already too much.

           “Don’t think about trying to run away from me witch,” he slowly pressed into you before his arms came under your limp thighs pulling them up to your chest and locking them in position as his hands slipped behind your head “not like you’ll be able to though,”

           His planted his feet firmly on your mattress gripping the blanket with his toes before thrusting up, you choked, eyes crossing as his cock seemed to press into every oversensitive spot of your walls. You felt his wet lips latch onto your lobe tongue slipping into your ear lathing slow strokes matching the maddening strokes that his cock dug into your pussy. Futilely your hands pressed into his thighs trying to cease his pumping hips, you heard him chuckle hot breath fanning your ear around the tongue that delved deep into it. You couldn’t make a noise, could barely breath as Katsuki seemed to dig out all thought of anything besides his throbbing cock claiming your greedy pussy that desperately latched on to the pleasure that drove your brain stupid.

Midoriya groaned watching your cunt cream around Katsuki’s cock leaving bubbly rings of tantalizing white that had him licking his lips. He leaned down licking a stripe up Katsuki’s cock till his tongue pressed the mixture of all three of your combined messes into your clit. He wrapped his lips around the nub and sucked. You screamed, the first sound your had truly been able to make since Katsuki had entered you, piercing and long like a banshee that had Katsuki leaving your ear alone to laugh at you, laugh at the dumb little witch fucked even more stupid on his cock. Damn, the old crone that had him before wasn’t even this good a fuck he thought as he began to piston his hips into you feeling his own end creeping on him between your cunt seemingly try to strangle his cock and Izuku’s tongue lapping at your joined sexes.

Without any warning you came moaning and thrashing as much as you could in the full nelson Katsuki had you in, squirting again against the tongue that seemed to be molded stuck to your clit. Katsuki cursed as his feet pressed deeper into the bed hips stuttering up into you as he came, your cunt pumped full for the second time that night with daemon spunk, Izuku finally pulled away from you face dripping in your squirt as he bent down to kiss while Katsuki’s thrust slowed to stop. He released you from your position breathing heavily while you fell forward into Izuku’s arms legs shaking and cock drunk.

“There there mistress,” Izuku cooed, you lazily stared up at his and his eyes seemed to glow an almost sinister green in the moonlight “It’s my turn again and I promise to be gentle,”

You gulped backing up only to be met with Katsuki’s already hardening cock glide under your still dripping pussy. Izuku chuckled gleefully as he shuffled forward his own dick nudging at your poor abused clit. Katsuki growled pinning your arms to your sides before licking a long stripe up your still wet ear.

           “I think you mean that it’s both of our turn rabbit,”

[writings-of-a-british-fangirl]

A Lesson In Traditions [Din Djarin x Reader]

Title: A Lesson In Traditions Summary: After the brief spark, you felt between you and Din, you are longing for it to be recreated. And, maybe a shiny trinket from Mandalorian tradition can help you with that. Warnings: None I don't think ? Request: N/A

A/N: Some of you wanted a part two to A Lesson In Mando'a so here's the follow up! I might make this a series if anyone is interested

A/N 2: I made up the idea of betrothal necklaces. I don't think these exist in Mandalorian culture, but I took inspiration from water benders in Avatar the Last Airbender, because I thought the idea was cute! So credit to that series!

PART 1: A Lesson In Mando’a PART 2: A Lesson In Traditions PART 3: A Lesson In Touch

Din Djarin~A Lesson In Traditions

It had been a while since Din had told you what cyar'ika had meant, and ever since then the two of you had been dancing around each other. Surely, he knew you liked him by now- you had tried to hint at him several times: lingering touches, longer conversations, closeness to him. And, yet the Mandalorian remained oblivious. You supposed that no matter the species or creed, men were all as dense as each other.

        You huffed as you held the child on your lap.

        "I don't know what I'm going to do, little one," you murmured, "I think I'm having more luck communicating with you, than I am with your dad. ...Maybe I should just give up. He has his creed to follow anyway..."

        The child looked at you, his head slightly tilted. His big eyes stared up at you. Despite not saying anything at all, you knew he was understanding you. He was a pretty great listener, even if he was only a youngling.

        "You know, you're right. Maybe I- maybe we just need a day out. Some fresh air. What do you think? Do you want to take a little trip? We need some more supplies anyway, I'm getting sick of rations, and I'd like some fresh food. What about you?"

        The child perked up at the mention of food, and you smiled.

        "I'll take that as a yes," you giggled, "Let me go speak to your daddy."

        You placed the child gently down in his bed, and made your way up to the cockpit, where Din was flying the ship. Your head peeked up from the ladder, and you clambered up and stood awkwardly for a second at the back of the room. Din heard you enter, and waited for you to speak. He turned his head ever so slightly, his beskar glinting from the faint light the stars around the ship were producing.

        "Hi," you murmured, wandering over to where Din was sitting, "How far away are we from the next stop?"

        "About an hour," Din replied, "Why do you ask?"

        You fold your hands neatly in front of you, you shift your weight slightly forward, and almost rock on the balls of your feet.

        "Well, I was thinking that I- well, us... You, me and the kid could take a trip to the local market on our next stop. It's just we need more food anyways, and I'm going a bit stir crazy. It'll do us some good to get some fresh air, especially the kid. He can't spend his whole life in this ship."

        Din contemplates for a second.

        "I know what you're going to say- It's dangerous, we're being hunted but-"

        "-I was actually going to say okay."

        "Really? I mean, great. Thank you!"

        Din smiles under his helmet, not that you can tell, and continues, "As you said, we need food anyway, and the next planet we're going to land on is remote enough. It's definitely not Imp friendly either."

        You nod, and flash Din a smile. The tension slowly builds in the room; you can feel his eyes on you. Despite not being able to see his eyes (hell, you didn't even know what colour they were), you could sense them: trained on you. You coughed awkwardly.

        "I'm going to go check on the kid. Uh- Give me a shout when we're about to land."

        "I will, cyar'ika."

        Your heart jumps at the nickname.

~~~

As soon as you landed, you grabbed your bag, your gun and a set of knives. Despite not technically being employed by any bounty hunting guilds right now, it never hurt to be prepared: especially when the small green creature you were travelling with had such a high price on his head. And, then you turned to Din. He was also carrying his fair share of weapons, and of course the child. He was situated in Din's bag, his cute little face peaking out over the top. You smiled at him, before beginning to walk down the ramp.

        The Mandalorian made his way into the town, with you by his side, and his small son literally at his side. He didn't feel uneasy about this place- it looked relatively safe, but he was still on high alert. And, he wanted you to be as well.

        Despite having only known you a couple of months, he didn't dare think about the possibility of something happening to you. He knew he had to protect the child, that was a given, but the growing affection he had for you was uncharted. As a boy, he had learned about Mandalorians caring for foundlings (just as they had done with him as a boy), but romantic relationships were something out of his reach. He knew they occurred; they had to. The Mandalorians, while being a creed of highly trained soldiers, still held family at their core. After all, how were they to make more warriors without romantic relationships. But, truthfully, they were something unfamiliar to him. It had never been possible in his life, not with the creed. With you, his thoughts had begun to wander more and more lately. About you being next to him, being his family. He knew Mandalorians were allowed to take their helmets off for family, for those in their Clan. The more time you spent with him, the more he considered you to be apart of his Clan... He shook himself slightly. 'Stop,' he thought, 'You shouldn't have this on your mind. Y/N doesn't think of you that way. They're here for the child. That's it.'

        If only Din knew how far from the truth that was.

        "I need you to take him," Din says to you, carefully taking the child from his bag and handing him to you, "I'm going to go into the cantina, and see if I can find me- us some work. I trust you can manage to get us some supplies?"

        "You insult me, my love," you laugh, holding the child in your arms, "I am more than capable. I hope you save me at least one good bounty. I can't let you have all the fun."

        "I'll keep an eye out. Meet me here in half an hour."

        "Will do, my love," you smile and walk away from him.

        Din was glad for the distance being put between the two of you, because he was sure if you were any closer to him, you would be able to hear his heart racing behind his beskar. 'My love,' he pondered. He quite liked the way that sounded rolling off your tongue, perhaps even more than he liked hearing you say his own name. He gave one last look over his shoulder, just to make sure you were okay, before heading into the cantina.

~~~

You'd successfully made it to the market, and had made your way around over half of the stalls, and you had basically bought all the food for you and your Mandalorian. As you continued walking through the market, most of the stalls you passed by were food, but some were trinkets, toys, and even weapons. You'd hesitated by one particular booth. They were selling crystals, luxury cloth, and jewellery. Usually, you weren't one for such fine things (in your life style, things like that would end up ruined, stolen or pawned), but you'd been drawn in by one particular necklace. The chain was made up of two types of metal from what you could tell: a shinning silver, and a deep, darker grey. Attached to the chain was an unfamiliar symbol. It curved into a symmetrical shape, one that looked like two halves of a whole.

        "That's real beskar, you know," the seller assured, "It would look beautiful sitting around your neck."

        The seller was an older woman. She wore blue and purple robes, dirtied only a little by the sand- no doubt from the extensive sand desert that lay just outside the town. She had a kind face, her eyes smiling up at you. You'd almost forgotten to reply.

        "What do you say? Can I interest you in such a fine, unique piece?"

        "Oh, I'm not sure-"

        "-I'm sure your husband would like it: it would match his own armour after all," the lady added, taking the necklace off of its stand and presenting it to you.

        "Oh, he's not- He's not my husband. We're just travel companions, that's all."

        "Someone should tell him that. The way he looks at you... Only few people are so lucky. Looks at you like you hung the stars in the sky."

        "How do you know that? His helmet-"

        "-There's some things you just know with age, dearie. Love is one of them."

        You were rendered speechless. Did he really look at you like that? Was is that obvious? Did his heart beat for yours the way yours beats for his? You hardly had time to process the thought of you and Din together that close, as spouses, before the seller spoke again.

        "So what do you say? Can I tempt you with this necklace? I can even throw in a free toy for the little one," she smiled, cooing to the child from across the table.

        You looked at the seller, and then down to him.

        "What do you say, little guy? Do you want a new toy?" you murmured to him; when you saw his eyes gleam with excitement, you knew it was all over.

        "I think he said yes," the merchant laughs.

        "I think you're right," you reply, reaching into your bag for your purse, "I usually wouldn't spend credits on a thing like this... But, it is quite beautiful. And, you do deserve a new toy."

        You handed the lady her credits, and took the necklace from her. She'd placed it into a small, black, velvet box. The box had small silver hinges and a clasp at the front. You felt a little giddy. It had been a while since you'd made such an unessential purchase, and there was a small part of you that hoped if you wore this you might get the attention of a certain masked warrior. You shook your head, granted it was a little desperate, but you figured worth a shot.

        The child also received his gift too. It was a small figurine of an animal. You weren't quite sure which one, but he seemed to like it, and that was good enough for you.

        You slipped the velvet box into your bag, and caught a glimpse of your watch. Fuck, you were late. You jostled the child closer to your chest and began to almost sprint back to the cantina: you did not want to have to deal with a grumpy Mandalorian, least of all if you were the cause of his grumpiness. The closer you got, the easier it was to make out his figure.

        "Look, before you say anything, I'm sorry I'm late. Time must have slipped my mind, and I ran into a strange lady at one of the stalls, and she sold me this- You know what, you probably don't need to know all that. Just know we've got enough food to last us at least a month, and the child had fun."

        "He has a new toy."

        "I- Yeah," you replied, "Not exactly an essential, I know, but don't worry I used my credits. Besides, it'll hopefully stop him wrecking your cockpit for a toy."

        Din nodded. You don't know why you expected him to say more. He wasn't a man of many words, and you were apparently no exception. You made your way back to the ship with the Mandalorian in silence. It wasn't unpleasant by any means, but also it felt like you both had lots to say: you just didn't know how to say it.

        "Did you buy anything for yourself?" Din asked, looking over to you as you reached the ship.

        How did he know?

        Din obviously sensed your confusion.

        "I- You said that a lady sold you something, that's all," Din clarified.

        "Oooh, oh that," you said, looking down at your bag, "Yeah, I did. A bit of an impulse buy if I'm honest, but the lady was too nice to deny. She sold me a necklace. Maybe you can help me put it on."

        Din nodded; that should be easy. It was just a necklace after all. He'd fought off enemies twice his size, survived when the odds were against him, and was one of the best bounty hunters there was... It should be easy. So why was his heart racing?

        You placed the child down on the floor of the Razor Crest, and reached inside your bag for the box. Your hands traced the inside of your bag blindly, before feelings the soft touch of velvet. Carefully, you took it out of the bag, and revealed the box. Din's eyes watched with intrigue. You unfastened the clasp and opened the box. It snapped back on its hinges, and revealed the chain.

        Din's eyes registered the metal before his brain could even process it: a betrothal necklace.

        "The lady said it was genuine beskar, but I'm not so sure. I think it's just silver, probably some iron too- but it's pretty either way. Do you mind helping me put it on still?"

        Din's mind was still racing. He'd heard about the tradition of giving a betrothal necklace from urban tales and word of mouth from other Mandalorians, but he'd never actually seen one this close. The tradition stated that the Mandalorian proposing would take part of their beskar and part of their riduur-to-be's beskar and melt them into a necklace, with the two swirling around each other before eventually combining into a symbol at the bottom. Usually it was a good luck symbol, or for fertility. Something along those lines. It felt almost surreal seeing one close up.

        "Are you alright, Din?" you ask, "Is something up?"

       He wasn't sure if he should mention the tradition, what the necklace meant to the Mandalorians... It was basically a dead tradition now, anyway. There was no harm in not telling you, right? After all, there were very few Mandalorians left, and even fewer that managed to have the privilege of finding a riduur: you didn't need to know..

        "No, no... I'm fine," he reassures, "I- Hand me the necklace."

        Din took the necklace from you and instructed you to hold your hair out of the way. You obliged, and felt him lace the necklace around your neck before fastening it in the back. There was a small pause, where the two of you just stayed there: in the moment. It took everything in you not to shiver as you felt a rush down your spine. The sensation of Din's hands on you, even just for a moment, was almost too much. You turned around to face him.

        "Do you like it?" you ask, holding the pendant of your new necklace between your thumb and your index finger.

        "It suits you," he affirmed, "Mesh'la."

       "Thank you," you blushed, making a mental note to ask what 'Mesh'la' meant at a later date, "I- I'm going to go put the food supplies away."

       Din decided against telling you about the origin of your neckalce; you looked far too radiant wearing it for him to say anything that may shift the tone. He couldn't bring himself to say anything, so he just let you walk past him. Part of him felt guilty for not saying anything, but another part of him selfishly thought it looked beautiful sat around your neck. For a moment he could almost imagine that he had given you that..

       ...That you were his riduur.

[1000-directions]

good stuff 4-9-22

i went car shopping with my friend today and my expectations were soooooo low because i’ve been checking dealership inventory and they’ve had NOTHING and i thought it was gonna be a bunch of supply chain nonsense and i was never going to find a car ever again, BUT it turns out they can just order my car direct from the factory and i can get it super bare-bones without a bunch of bullshit features i don’t need, and it’s going to be like...something i can actually afford 😭😭 we’re gonna go back next weekend and finalize the order and she’s going to try to negotiate for me, but honestly even at the listed price it’s like actually feasible. it’s very frustrating to take so much money out of my house fund, but honestly i will never be able to afford a house in this market but i do genuinely need a car, and i am so grateful to have someone helping me and watching my back

i ordered sushi even though it was too expensive (maybe i should budget if i am trying to buy a friggen car but that is a goal for next week perhaps) and as penance i made myself clean the bathroom while i was waiting for it to arrive. i think i’ve mentioned before that i was raised by hoarders and never learned how to clean anything ever and keeping my living space livable is a constant struggle for me. so like i clean the tub and the toilet but i am not a great bathroom cleaner, but today i just took EVERYTHING out and started high and worked my way down, scrubbed all the walls, cleaned the mirror, scrubbed the sink and the faucet and the counter, cleaned the very dirty window (imagine if any of my windows were actually airtight and insulated and imagine if any of the screens in my windows actually kept bugs out JUST IMAGINE), and then the fumes got so bad i had to stop. but i made such good progress, like even just like five minutes into it, i could see that it was going to be cleaner than it’s been in probably years, and it was a very overwhelming feeling. i’m hoping i stick with it and finish up tomorrow, i really just have to do toilet, tub, baseboards, and floor, and i think that’s really manageable 🤞🤞

oh almost forgot, i started reading prince’s gambit again last night. i was 236 pages into it when i just abruptly stopped reading again, and i’ve been hesitant about picking it back up because it’s been MONTHS and i couldn’t remember at all what was going on. i tried finding summaries online to jog my memory but couldn’t find any detailed enough, so i just decided to start from the beginning and see how i felt. i was worried it would be really boring to reread the parts i’d already been through, but i ended up tearing through 107 pages last night and it was so engaging, and i’m excited to read more tonight!

and now i’m gonna watch a few episodes of the trash fire that is the ultimatum and then i’m gonna read and then i’m gonna sleep! honestly i have just been really unhappy for the last few days, but today was really good, and it’s important for me to remember that after things are bad, they do get better again.

[mamabearcat]

I’m just going to hide in the blankets and not come out for the next week or two. The holidays will be over by then, right?”

Any pairing you want :)

So, I haven't proofread this, and now I need to head off to work. This is inukag set in my Small Victories AU. I might even write a second part to this if anyone wanted me to. But right now, enjoy! From the Holiday Starter Ask list.

🎄💖🎄

Damn. She must have forgotten to close the curtains properly last night. And now the sun was peeking in, urging her to wake up and start the day, even though she wanted to be lazy and snuggle in under the blankets a little longer. Because she deserved it. Because it was the first two days off in a row she’d had in weeks, and because tonight she was going out on a date. A date with Inuyasha - his work Christmas Party, where she’d finally get to meet his family. And she wanted to make a good impression.

It had been three months since she’d met Inuyasha, when he’d stepped in to help her at work with that creep Ryan. And even though her relationship with Inuyasha was everything she’d ever hoped for, things at her job hadn’t turned out so well.

She’d ended up pressing charges against Ryan, which made things a little difficult with the guys he’d hung out with at work. They’d never said anything, but it felt uncomfortable. Jak had got an offer for a job with another retail chain in upper management, and her new in-line manager did everything by the book. A lot of the people she knew there were moving on. And as loyal as she was, Kagome got the feeling that maybe, it was time for her to move on too.

So she’d started looking, trying to find something that would fit in with her pracs and study. She only had one more year to go in her degree before she’d be a qualified vet tech, and she knew all the hard work would be worth it. She just needed to find a part time job to help pay the rent on her tiny studio apartment.

She was buying Buyo’s kibble and treats from the pet supply store just down the street when she saw the help wanted sign in their window. And it seemed like fate. A retail job that was just made for her. Sango had given her a quick interview on the spot, and forty minutes later, she walked out of the store with cat kibble, treats and a brand new job. And it seemed even more like fate when on her first evening shift, Miroku and his twin daughters arrived to pick up Sango. When they’d shared the story with Sango of how they’d met, Sango had thought it was hilarious.

She loved her new job. Loved talking to customers who wanted the best for their pets and valued her knowledge. Loved working as part of a close knit team in a family owned business. Sango and Kohaku had inherited the business from their father, and you could see how much they loved their work. Customers were encouraged to bring their pets in while they shopped, and it wasn’t unusual to see both regular and youkai pets walking around the store with their owners. And she could even do some of her prac hours there, assisting Kikyou, the vet who held clinics there in the store every second Saturday.

But today, she didn’t want to think about work. Kagome stretched out her toes, relishing the thought of a Saturday morning where she was still in bed and not already heading out the door. This was the beginning of the first weekend she’d had free in weeks, and with Christmas only two weeks away, the already busy store had been on another level. So she was going to relish every single second of it.

She’d gone to bed early last night to get a good night’s sleep, instead of staying up late texting Inuyasha. He’d grumbled a little, but when she’d reminded him that tomorrow night she’d be in his bed right next to him, rather than alone in hers, he’d cheered up a little, suggesting a few ways she could ‘make it up to him’.

She had an appointment booked at the nail salon to get a mani-pedi, and her hair felt and smelled good from the hair mask she’d put in it the night before. Her new white halterneck swing dress with a bright red sash that she’d bought especially for the Christmas themed party was hanging on the front of her wardrobe, just waiting to be worn, along with the red poinsettia hairpiece. She couldn’t wait for Inuyasha to see her all dressed up. Nothing was going to stop her enjoying her day off.

Her phone ringing just at that moment gave her a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. Inuyasha never called, just texted, and Mama only ever called on Sunday evenings for their regular catch up. All her other friends would assume she would be working today, which only left…

“Hi Sango”, she said, a note of defeat in her voice.

“Kagome I’m so so sorry.” Sango’s voice had a slight edge of panic to it. “Shippou called in sick, Soten is out of town visiting her grandparents. Both Kohaku and I are here, and it’s crazy town. I know you’re going out tonight, and I know you were looking forward to having today off, but I really really need you.”

Kagome could hear the buzz of customers in the background. It sounded hectic. She knew she didn’t have to. But Sango was her friend.

“Okay”, she sighed. “I’ll come in, just for you.”

“Kagome, I love you!” She could hear the immense relief in Sango’s voice. “I really really owe you for this. And I promise we’ll have you out of here in time for your big date.”

“Thanks Sango. I’m just worried that I won’t make it back here in time to change.”

“Why don’t you get changed here? I’d love to see you all dressed up before you go! And I promise I won’t call you tomorrow!”

“You better not”, joked Kagome. “If you do, I’m just going to hide in the blankets and not come out for the next week or two. The holidays will be over by then, right?”

“Only if I can join you!” teased Sango. “Thank you so much! I’ll see you soon. Bye Kagome!”

“Bye”, Kagome sighed. She groaned as she looked up at the ceiling, wishing she wasn’t such a soft touch. Time to cancel that mani-pedi.

The day was just as busy as she’d thought it would be. There was a constant stream of customers, asking for advice about new puppies and kittens that would be arriving Christmas Day, what to do about stressed pets with visitors to the house, people stocking up on treats and Christmas themed costumes for their pets. But finally, it was time for her shift to finish. Inuyasha had offered to come pick her up at the store so they could go straight to the party, so now all she had to do was get changed into her dress and strappy red heels and freshen up her make-up.

She stopped on her way to the staff room to say hi to some regular customers and their dog. Kellie and Katie brought Panda, their Samoyed, to the store every Saturday, sometimes to use their in-store dog wash, other times to stock up on food and treats. Panda was such a happy dog, his white hair like a fluffy cloud, and tail like a banner. When he saw Kagome, his tail wagged excitedly, and jumped up, putting his paws up on her shoulders. With her firm command of ‘No, sit!’ he immediately dropped into a ‘sit’ and looked at her expectantly.

“Sorry Panda, just pats from me today”, she grinned, scratching him behind those pointed white ears. “I’m just finishing my shift. You’ll have to go see Sango for a treat.”

“He needs to go have a bath first”, said Kellie, rolling her eyes. “We took him for a walk and he decided it would be a good idea to roll in something - I’m not sure what it was, but he reeks.”

“Okay, I won’t keep you!” Kagome grinned.

She had half an hour before Inuyasha was going to be here to pick her up. He knew she couldn’t answer his texts while she was at work, but he’d been texting her photos all day - his red three piece suit laid out on his bed, chocolates and candles on his bedside table, and finally a picture of him wearing nothing but a cheeky fanged grin and a black pair of boxer briefs with a picture of mistletoe over the crotch.

“Nice pants 😘”, she texted back as soon as she reached the staff room. There was a shower next to the lockers, so she planned on having a very quick one before she got dressed. “Just getting ready. Can’t wait to see you!”

“Be there soon baby. Can I see what you’re wearing?”

“Nope! You’ll get to see all of me later 😉”

“Tease. 😡 I’m leaving now, might take me a little while to find a park.”

“Okay 💖”

She was in and out of the shower in a flash. Thankfully she’d shaved last night, and quickly she put on her own ‘special’ underwear and slid the dress on over the top and tied the sash. She left her hair down in shining waves, sliding the poinsettia clip in. A little more mascara and a slightly redder lipstick completed the look.

She was just sliding on her bright red heels when Sango came into the staff room.

“Oh Kagome, you look adorable!” she sighed, grinning as Kagome did a quick spin to flare out the skirt and show the red petticoat underneath. “I’m sure Inuyasha will love it!”

“Thank you! I’m just going to wait for him out the front, he should be here any minute.”

She was almost at the door when she heard the panicked shouts.

“Stop him! Panda noooo! Bad dog, get back here!”

As if in slow motion she saw Panda barrelling towards the exit, tongue lolling with a happy dog grin on his face, still covered in shampoo from the bath. There was a busy car park right outside, and then an even busier highway. She knew what she had to do, even though she thought a little despairingly of her white dress and what would happen to it. But Sango was in the office, she couldn’t see Kohaku anywhere close by, and she knew she couldn’t let him get out that door.

“PANDA, YOU WANT A TREAT!?” she hollered as loudly as she could. Panda’s head swivelled towards her as he skidded on the tiled floor of the shop, then he was racing towards her. Knowing exactly what was going to happen next, she closed her eyes.

“SIT!”

With a thump, Panda’s butt hit the floor in response to the growled command from the tall inuhanyou in a bright red suit who’d just walked in the door and had sized up the situation in a split second. Kagome opened one eye, and then the other. Panda’s owners were there, putting back on Panda’s collar and dragging him back to the bath with many apologies and thank you’s.

Inuyasha grinned at her.

“Wow, that’s the second time you’ve saved me at work”, Kagome sighed, leaning up to kiss him on the lips. “My hero.”

“You’re gorgeous”, he said, stepping back a little to take in the whole view, and motioning with his finger for her to do a little twirl for him. “I just figured smelling like wet dog wasn’t part of the whole look.”

“Nope, definitely not.” She stood up on tiptoe to whisper closer to his ear. “The only kind of dog I want to smell on me tonight, is you.”

“Still a tease”, he rumbled, entwining their fingers. “You ready to come meet my family?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be”, she smiled. “Let’s go paint the town Christmas red.”