#fourth Saturday of September

[rabbitcruiser]

International Rabbit Day

If you have a pet rabbit, pamper them! If not, do your research and decide if these adorable little creatures could be the right fit for your home.

Held on the last Saturday of September, this annual celebration of the long-eared, short-tailed mammal is not just in the name of the millions of bunnies kept as pets across the Western world but aims to promote a serious message about animal welfare.

On International Rabbit Day® we are encouraged to consider, not only the companionship offered by our favorite hutch-dwellers, but the various ways in which rabbits are harmed by medical and cosmetic testing, hunting, fur farming and, of course, casseroling.

Yes, there is a serious side to International Rabbit Day® but you may not be surprised to learn that events are somewhat sporadic – so let your bunny out of its hutch and give it an extra carrot or two (and be sure to plan chicken for the family roast).

How to Celebrate International Rabbit Day®

There are several different ways to celebrate International Rabbit Day®.. One of the best ways is to adopt a pet rabbit. Many animal shelters offer this service. Take some time to research the shelters in your local area. You can email them and ask whether there are any rabbits available for adoption at the moment.

Suppose you are thinking about adding a pet rabbit to the family on International Rabbit Day®. In that case, it is important to make sure that you are aware of the responsibilities you will have as a rabbit owner. You need to make sure you are in a position to give your rabbit everything that he or she needs to have a happy and healthy life. So, what do rabbits need?

They require a suitable place to live, protection from disease, injury, suffering, and pain, appropriate company, the ability to behave as they normally would, and a healthy diet, which includes clean and fresh water.

Rabbits love to dig and they need to have enough space to run around. They also enjoy company from their owner, as well as other rabbits. In terms of diet, they enjoy eating a handful of various leafy greens on a daily basis, such as kale and cabbage. They also want to feel safe and they need to have some shade when the sun is shining. They also eat a lot of grass and hay, and it is important that their living area is dry and is protected from the rain and wind.

You can also use this day to learn more about rabbit welfare. Rabbits have distinct needs compared with other domestic animals, and it is important that we understand and appreciate this. You can use International Rabbit Day® to do some research online regarding the sort of environment that rabbits require.

You can also look for different ways that you can help to contribute to rabbit welfare. You can contact your local shelter and make a donation or volunteer some of your time. We are sure that they will greatly appreciate this. You may even decide to put on some sort of event on International Rabbit Day® in order to fundraise and raise money for your local animal shelter. From bake sales to fun runs; there are so many different things that you can do to raise money for this cause.

Learn about International Rabbit Day®

International Rabbit Day® has been designed so that we can appreciate the contributions and value that our pet rabbits bring to our lives. The day is also incredibly important in terms of promoting the welfare of rabbits, as well as encouraging people to create healthy environments for their pet rabbits.

There are a number of different events that are hosted on this date by The House Rabbit Society. This includes various fundraising events and a carnival.

Pet rabbits form complicated social structures. They are very territorial but they are also highly social. They also have a very unusual digestive system. The food they consume will pass through their gut, resulting in the creation of caecotrophs, which are special droppings.

Rabbits will then eat these caecotrophs, meaning that they re-ingest their food. This highlights why it is so important to make sure that your rabbit follows a healthy and appropriate diet. Pet rabbits are also some of the most intelligent pet animals.

If you use positive reward-based training, you can get your pet rabbit to respond to your commands. You may also be surprised to learn that rabbits; teeth grow at a rate of 3mm per week and that they are always growing!

There are a lot of fictional rabbits that have become famous all around the world. The most famous is Bugs Bunny. Not only is the character well-known for his antics with the Roadrunner, but he was also the star of the show, alongside Michael Jordan, in Space Jam. Of course, one way to spend International Rabbit Day® is by watching this film.

Lola Bunny is another rabbit that makes an appearance! Other famous rabbits include the waistcoat-wearing White Rabbit from Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland, Peter ~Rabbit, and of course, Roger Rabbit.

We have also seen rabbits appear as part of folklore and mythology. Often, the rabbit is viewed as a trickster; an animal that is able to outwit his enemies. This is something that has carried on into American popular culture. You only need to look at Bugs Bunny to see that this is the case! It is certainly interesting to dig a bit deeper into mythology and folklore.

For example, did you know that in Korean and Japanese mythology, rabbits live on the moon, where they make rice cakes? In a mythological story from Vietnamese culture, the rabbit is portrayed as youthfulness and innocence.

History of International Rabbit Day®

House Rabbit Society has been celebrating International Rabbit Day® for a number of years. Their mission states the following:

ALL rabbits are valuable as individuals, regardless of breed purity, temperament, state of health, or relationship to humans. The welfare of all rabbits is our primary consideration. In line with our mission, we are against the exploitation of rabbits…Domestic rabbits are companion animals and should be afforded at least the same individual rights, level of care, and opportunity for longevity as commonly afforded to dogs and cats who live as human companions.

Yes, rabbits have a very long history in our culture and they make great pets, but they also need our help. Not all rabbits are safe. Rabbits are used for product testing and medical experimentation, as well as being hunted. It is up to help rabbits live a safe and protected life, and this is why International Rabbit Day® is so important.

Source

[floridaboiler]

HAPPY INTERNATIONAL RABBIT DAY!!! International Rabbit Day is celebrated on the fourth Saturday of September every year, falling on September 24 this year. Although we would love to celebrate bunnies every day, this day is especially observed to promote the care and protection of domestic and wild rabbits

Source - https://mewe.com/p/bikinisummer

[chanswhxre]

Channie's Room [Kinktober '24]

✩ kinktober masterlist ✩ requests ✩ kofi ✩ ao3

♡ Pairing : chan x afab! reader

♡ Genre : smut, daddy kink

♡ Word count : 2.5k words

♡ Warnings : 18+ nsfw, explicit sexual content. I will not put any more specific warnings to avoid spoiling the story. Read at your own risk!

❗️ minors, ageless, and blank blogs that will interact with me or my work will be BLOCKED.

September is almost ending, and nothing in your life seems to be going well. You have a job, but it isn't what you wanted in the first place but it pays well, though; you just broke up with your boyfriend of 2 years, you're getting kicked out of your old apartment for adopting a kitten, and when life couldn't get any worse, your cat just puked on your favorite rug just before you were about to pack it, you wanted to scream, but you didn't want to scare off your cat. You loved the little bugger even if he's a pain in the ass sometimes. You wanted to relax a bit before going back to packing, and you remembered it was Saturday night, and that only means one thing,

🔴 Channie's Room is now LIVE

You settled in with your comfortable clothes, your favorite drink, and, of course, your favorite toy. You got into the stream and saw him, only in a white, fitting tank top, camera stopping on his neck; he's got a new wolf scratch tattoo on his shoulder; shit makes him hotter than ever. 

"Hey everyone, it's your favorite Korean-aussie, Channie!" He greets, making hand gestures.

He seems awfully cute with his greetings. He takes his time to catch up with his viewers and greets his loyal patrons and generous tippers. You've been a patron for as long as you can remember, and you loved his genre. Even though he streams NSFW content, he makes you happy and giddy. You also know deep down that this guy looks good. 

"Oh wow, thanks for the tip, wanderingbae. I haven't even started yet." He giggled, and you could see his abs tense. You bit your lip wondering what he got in store for today's live.

"Tonight, I'm doing requests! I want to know what my baby girls and boys want to see for tonight. So let's open up my ngl." He giggled.

"Oh, baby girl asks if daddy can take his tank off and..wow you want to hear daddy whimper? Tell you how much he likes it and how bad he needs to cum?" How can this man go from cute to sexy in just a blink? He was giggling a few seconds ago, and now he's straight-up teasing.

This would be another Channie's room that surely won't fail to give you mind-blowing orgasms. Let the stream begin!

The following day, you filed for leave to facilitate your moving to a new apartment. You went later in the afternoon after you finished packing all your stuff. Your room was on the fourth floor, and it's just your luck that the elevator was being repaired for the day and would be fixed late in the evening.

"Great, just great." You sighed, looking at your things. You didn't really have a lot of stuff: two big suitcases of clothes and other necessities, a huge box for other essential life stuff such as kitchenware, your cat's things, and your cat carrier. How could you bring these to the fourth floor? Sure, multiple trips wouldn't be the problem, but the weight of what you're going to carry was the one you're worried about.

"Need some help?"

You turned to look at the man who spoke with a familiar voice, making you unconsciously drop your jaw at the gorgeous man in front of you.

"Oh, it's fine. I can wait for the uh elevator."

"Really? I heard it won't be fixed until late in the evening. What floor are you moving to?"

"Fourth, but really, I can wait. I don't want to bother you or anything, " you insisted.

"I live on the fourth floor, too! Nice to meet you, neighbor. My name is Chris." He smiled. You know you're not supposed to trust strangers, especially good-looking ones, but who cares about stranger danger if it's this man? You feel a good vibe from him, and besides, he probably lives next to your new apartment. Getting to know your neighbors is a good start.

"I'm Y/N. Nice to meet you, too."

"Let me help you carry these. I insist." He offered again.

"Are you sure? We're probably going to make a few trips up and down."

"I can handle it. Carry what you can, and I'll take care of the rest." He winked.

You carried what you could, and it was done in a flash. How did this guy carry all of it? How does he have so much stamina? He settled your things in the living room, and you thanked him for it. You asked him to stay so you could order food for him as another way of saying thank you, but he said he'd come over another time, and then you added that you could cook for him.

Settling into your new apartment was surprisingly easy, especially when your neighbor is very kind, not to mention eye candy. He gets along with your cat so well. You've shared a few conversations, and you have even invited him over for dinner sometimes or just to hang out, and he would be totally down for it. You've spent quite some time together for a month already, and you'd be a liar if you didn't say you hadn't had a single dirty thought about this man.

"Cool tattoo you got there." You complimented him on the wolf scratch tattoo on his arm. It's the first time you're seeing it since he rarely wears a muscle tee or tank top outside since it's cold. It looked oddly familiar, though.

"Thanks." He smiled.

It was your first time in his apartment since he usually visited yours. He graciously offered to cook dinner tonight, and while he was setting up the table, you looked around and saw a few pictures of him, his baby pictures, his family back in Australia, and his dog. You saw a guitar and a keyboard near the shelf of a thousand albums of probably his favorite artists, and then a small opening of his room showed he had LED lights and a computer setup inside. His room looked like you'd seen it somewhere, but you just couldn't point out where. It's your first time coming to his apartment that's why it baffled you why it was so familiar.

Dinner was served, and it was delicious. Chris opened a bottle of champagne to celebrate. He said that he had reached a milestone on his channel. Chris had told you he worked online as a freelancer, but now that he's mentioned the word "channel," he might be a famous YouTuber, but you were too dumb to notice.

"So, what's your youtube channel? What content do you do?" You asked him.

"Oh, I don't upload on youtube. I livestream on some website."

"What website?" you asked out of curiosity, and then it clicked to you exactly who he was: the broad torso, the muscular arms, the tattoo, and the accent. It's him—it's definitely him. You're not being delusional.

"An adult livestream site." He gave you a mischievous smile. "Judging by your expression, I have a feeling that you know who I am."

"You... you're Channie in Channie's room, aren't you?" you hesitantly said, and he laughed at how cute you were blushing when you mentioned his screen name and channel. Obviously, you were a patron since you knew who he was and the title of his streams, but he didn't know that you were a generous tipper, too.

"Guessed it right." He chuckled. "You a fan?"

You were hesitant to tell him the truth; would he make fun of you? Or would he think that it's hot how you watch him every weekend? Oh how you wanted to scream from fangirling, you've always wanted to see how Channie looked like and you were right, he looked like God had taken the time to perfect him with the just the right amount of everything but overflowing with sexual appeal and gorgeousness all over.

"So you are." He concluded with your reaction, and you gulped. "Hey, there's nothing to be shy of, baby girl."

Your clit buzzed when he called you baby girl, and you might have felt a little wetness start to pool down there.

"You're shitting me. How come I didn't notice right away? Those kissable lips you show from time to time, the fucking hot wolf tattoo—oh shit, I said too many words, was it too much?—"

"So you think I have kissable lips?" He teased.

"No! I mean, yes, you do! I didn't expect you'd be this hot in person and that you'd be m-my neighbor!" You stuttered, getting nervous for the first time in his presence.

"Well, did I exceed your expectations?" he asked, and you nodded, pursing your lips, scared that you'd accidentally tell him your nastiest thoughts about him. "Wolf, got your tongue?"

"N-no..I don't know." You said. 

You can't even look him in the eye. You wondered if he was imagining how you'd play with him every weekend, and you got embarrassed thinking about it, but little did you know he was already imagining it. Did you like his streams? Did you get turned on out of your mind? Did his streams make you sopping wet? Did he help you have earth-shattering orgasms?

Chris thought his heart would burst because of your cuteness, and he couldn't help but be curious; since you saw him cum on cam for god knows how many times, he wanted to see how hot you looked cumming too, but he didn't want to cross a line if you weren't good with it.

"Hey, don't be shy. I should be the one who should be embarrassed. You've seen me play with myself and cum loads of times, I bet." He tried to reassure you.

"Yeah..it was really sexy every time you do." You bit your lip, gathering your courage to look him in the eye. Flashbacks of him playing with himself and shooting hot strings of cum running through your head at full speed.

"I'd really like to see you cum too, if I may." He said, trying to shoot his shot.

"What?" Your eyes widen in shock. "I don't think I look sexy when I cum."

"Let me be the judge of that, kitten." He said, and with that, he moved closer to you, brushing his nose against yours. Were you going crazy? Yes, you were. Were you just letting this man have his way with you? Absolutely. Were you going to make him cum just like in his livestream? Why the hell not? "So, are you down?"

"Yes, daddy." You didn't know how that slipped, but that answer made Chris growl.

You softly placed your lips on his, and he went berserk at how soft your lips were. He didn't want to be rough, but he couldn't help but feel excited, so he cupped your cheeks and deepened the kiss. Your hands roamed around each other's bodies as if you missed each other for a long time, leaving no part untouched.

Chris suddenly carried you, not breaking the kiss and flopping you on his bed. He climbed on top of you. He swiftly unclipped your bra, and before you knew it, both of you were undressed in his bedroom. He trailed kisses down your ear, jaw, and neck all the way down until you felt his hot breath reach your dripping core.

"Fuck, this is how wet you get for me, baby?" He groaned; he couldn't wait anymore and started devouring you.

Wet. Hot. Messy

That's how Chris liked it, and honestly, this was driving you crazy as well. You never thought you would end up like this, sprawled in his bed as he eats you with much gusto. He never tasted cunt as sweet as yours, and that instantly made him addicted to your taste. He circled his skilled tongue on your clit, making you moan loudly, and when he sucked on it, you grabbed on his hair for dear life.

“Fuck, daddy!” You moaned, feeling your orgasm build up.

“Yeah? You like that?” He growled between slurps, drinking your juices like he was deprived of water in the desert.

“Fuck! I’m gonna cum!”

“Come on, cum for daddy.”

Your body shook hard as your orgasm washed over you, and Chris hadn’t stopped sucking on your clit even if you were already shaking from sensitivity. He hooked his strong arms around your thighs, preventing you from getting away from his mouth as you writhe from the slight pain and sensitivity.

"Fuck, I would pay to see you cum every damn time!"

As you came down from your high, you pushed him on the bed and straddled him, kissing him, tasting yourself through his mouth.

Finally, you can live out your fantasy of sucking his cock and not just stare at it through the screen. He was already leaking. You always wondered what his cum tasted like, so you licked a bit of it on his precum-coated tip while making eye contact. It was everything you've ever imagined. His eyes were looking directly at yours with desire and anticipation.

You wrapped your hand around his thick girth and spread his precum with your thumb all over the tip of his cock, which earned an exasperated sigh from him. You licked from the bottom of his shaft all the way up before swallowing him whole. You knew Chris was a moaner in his streams, but hearing it in person was absolute euphoria. You sucked and swirled your tongue on his cock as moans spilled from his mouth, and before you knew it, he was already pulling you to sit on it. He got a condom in his bedside drawer and slid it down his thick, hard cock quickly.

You held his cock to position it on your dripping entrance and slowly sank on it. Both of you let out a satisfied groan once he bottomed out. You grinded on his cock at a slow pace which was frustrating him, so he flipped you over and slowly started picking up the pace. It was rough but delicious. Your eyes were rolling to the back of your head as he began hitting that sweet spot inside you.

“Who’s your daddy, baby girl? Tell me.”

“You are...SHIT!” You screamed as he started rubbing your clit with his thumb as he thrusts into you hard and deep.

“Like that baby? You like daddy rubbing your little swollen clit like that?”

“Yes! FUCKING YES, DADDY!”

You felt his cock twitch every time you called him daddy. He continued his ministrations, and he felt your pussy tighten as you reached your peak and then it contracted uncontrollably as if your orgasm was milking Chris into his very own, and with a few sloppy thrusts, he came into the condom. Moans and profanities slipped out of his mouth as you both rode your orgasms out. Chris withdrew and threw the condom out and laid beside you—both of you sweaty and out of breath.

“That was..”

“Mind-blowing.” He finished your sentence for you.

“Mind if we do it again sometimes, daddy?”

He giggled, cringing at the word you called him by in a non-sexual situation.

“Sometimes?” He cocked his eyebrow. “I guess you don’t want the full Chris experience then?”

“Every day then, if you let me join in on your streams someday.” You teased, unserious about joining, but it wouldn't be bad, though.

“Deal!”

✩ reblogs, feedback, & comments are highly appreciated. it motivates me, and it is the lifeline of my blog. To everyone who read and interacted with my works, such as comment, and reblog especially with text, thank you so much 정말 감사합니다 ♡

✩ if you want to support my work, buy me a coffee ☕

- love, jan ♡

© 2024 Chanswhxre

[itallbecameablr]

ALL HAIL THE QUEEN ON HER BIG DAY

[pinkbelugacollective]

August 26th - September 1st, 2024

Monday, August 26th - Rescue // Doppelgänger // First Time

Tuesday, August 27th - Moving in Together // Multiverse // Sex Accidents

Wednesday, August 28th - Scars & Disabilities // Ex's // Aftercare

Thursday, August 29th - Double Date // Phobias // Secret Rendezvous

Friday, August 30th - Superfam & Flashfam // Fourth World // Control

Saturday, August 31st - Realizations & Confessions // Only Lovers Left Alive // Fuck Nasty

Sunday, September 1st - People of Manchester, Alabama & The Ravers // Nightmares // Accidental Kink Discovery

Purpose?

Continuing to celebrate the BartKon Renaissance in the modern era. Since the ship has historically been a rarepair since its conception in the 1990's, this fanweek acts as both a way to celebrate the BartKon narrative in DC Comics, as well as engage new fans in our small yet mighty collective.

Why should we participate in this?

Because you like BartKon. Because you saw fanfiction and fanart and shitposts, and decided you wanted to see what's poppin' in the BartKonosphere. All creators are welcome. Our romcom lovers, the darkfic connoisseurs, and of course, our smut specialists.

So how does it work?

The release date for fanworks is from Monday, the 26th of August through Sunday, the 1st of September, 2024. 

You have four months to write, draw, and create fanworks. On top of fanfiction and fanart, we also encourage meta, essays, ship manifestos, playlists, and poetry.

This is also an opportunity for new fans to engage with an old ship with a robust body of work, hence why this fanweek is dedicated only to BartKon depicted in DC Comics from 1994-2024. This is not a YJ-centric week, nor it is a BartKon+third week, nor is it a my-ship-is-better-than-your-ship week. Please be courteous and treat each other with respect when engaging with fanworks and their creators. If you misbehave, I will be cursing you with ten thousand years of bad luck on top of car/train/transportation trouble every day for the rest of your life.

BartKon of ANY comic book universe is acceptable. If you want to spend the entire fanweek exploring Luthor-El and Bart because you love horrific love, then be my guest! If you want a crazed version of Bart to kidnap Kon from Gemworld, go for it! Let that imagination run WILD!!!

Both safe and not-safe-for-tunglr dot hell tropes are welcome. Just make sure that you post any Mature content on a landing page that doesn't restrict Mature content (like AO3). I don’t want anyone getting their blog banned. We cannot defeat our capitalist overlords, but we can definitely work around them.

This fanweek will not have a dedicated blog. These prompts are free for anyone to use. Because it is a non-traditional, non-monetized, and free-to-opt-in casual event, there will be no mods but moi, no advertising of paid services, and no ratings or participant restrictions. I will open a collection on AO3 in August for anyone who wants their work collated for this event.

In order to ensure that both creators and the audience are making informed decisions about what they engage with, all creators are encouraged to include triggers and any other squick warnings. 

Please utilize the read-more function for fanworks that are longer than 250 words. We're tryna read yer stories, not get spammed with a wall of text. Please Be Courteous.

And last but not least - if you are engaging with any of the fanworks, reblog, reblog, reblog! Share the work with your followers. Send all the love to the creators for crafting their masterpieces!!

What can I contribute?

Fanart (standalones, comic strips, etc.), fanfiction (one-shots, multichapter, etc.), fanmixes, gifsets, graphics, meme collections, fanvids, ship essays and meta, songifics, playlists, poetry, whatever your heart desires! Go wild!!!

Can I create/write not-safe-for-tunglr dot hell content?

Yes!!! All creators are encouraged to include triggers warnings, sub-genre specifications, and other warnings in their posts. I will not discourage you from writing your 16k Bart Goes Insane Over Kon fic, but please... Be Courteous and tag your fanworks appropriately so people can make an informed decision about what they're comfortable with engaging with.

What does (X) prompt mean?

Each day has three prompts!! You can either pick a prompt OR you can combine prompts in different ways. Although the prompts range from The Basics, to Things That Frighten The Barts and Kons, and end with They're Fucking Nasty in Cissie's Basement Because They Can't Afford a Motel, I challenge you to let your imagination take you where you want to go with each prompt!! If you want to explore all three in the same fanwork, then be my guest!! I will not stop you :'>

Mainstream Canon, Elsewords, and AU content is acceptable! Just make sure to stay within the comicsverse. We have SO MUCH BARTKON MADNESS IN THE COMICS, SO PLAY AROUND WITH OUR BEAUTIFUL CANON!!! Creativity is key! Have fun!!!

Can I crackship/multiship/harem/OT3/polyam the characters?

No. It's literally BartKon Week, Heart & Bones Edition. There's like six active fans left on this bitch of an earth. Don't do this to me :'<

Does this have a tag?

During release week, use the general “bartkon” and "konbart" tags to share your work with the wider BartKon fandom on tunglr. You can use whatever other tags you fancy. The best way to share, however, is to directly @ me so that I may reblog it.

I didn’t read a damn thing before this, Ava.

TL;DR: Nearly four months until the fanweek!!! For all fanwork creators out there, now’s the time to start thinking about what prompts you want to utilize for your creations. There are no creative restrictions, but I do ask that you follow these posting tips:

All fanfiction should be under a read-more.  

Not-safe-for-tunglr fanwork should be LINKED to whatever landing site the content is being hosted on (Twitter, AO3, etc). This includes both fanfiction and fanart. I don’t want your blog getting flagged bc tunglr hates gay people.

Provide content warnings for all triggers, squicks, and sub-genres. Unfortunately, in my ten odd years away from DC Comics, the fandom's seen a resurgence in puritanical behavior and tons of censorship and self-censorship. Please list content warnings on your work but do not be discouraged in sharing your work. If a fancop gets on your ass, block them. Please block as MANY as you can. They're like pests, they're always gonna be there, but their influence can be diminished by staunch blocking and reporting.

You can participate as much as you want!! Maybe you only wanna create for one day? Cool! Maybe you’re an overachieving corporate clown insomniac like myself, and wanna create for every day of the week? Go for it!!! 

The most important thing is to have fun :)

Closing Remarks

Like all my other events I host, this event, too, is entirely selfish. I've loved BartKon since I was a child when I was first introduced to it in the form of Bart/Clark on Smallville. Although I only recently came back to reading DC's mainline comics, BartKon still holds a special place in my heart even after all these years, and the few who still create and engage in their fanworks inspired me to host a little something-something for our small community.

Take your time, look through the prompts, and get your creative juices flowing! I will be sending out reminders until the go-live date.

For the people who showed interest during the initial interest check, I hope you're able to participate. To the people who hate me, your mom's a hoe. Thank you.

[todorokies]

megumi reminds me so much of autumn . . . the leaves turning frail and crunchy, the outdoor air carrying a cold breeze that shakes wind chimes, the days fall short whereas the nights stills longer, warm maroon coloured sweaters, vanilla and apple scents follows in bakeries and candle shops . . .

this time of year cast a lovely veil over megumi’s life which temporarily reliefs him of his duties as a sorcerer. he chooses his spare time wisely and doesn’t take it for granted, since you occupy most of his thoughts its only warranted he spends his lazy saturdays with you by his side.

the first saturday of october, you both visit a secondhand book store after grabbing tea at a cozy cafe. megumi buys a agatha christie novel, the murder at the vicarage, you on the other hand buy a r.l stine goosebumps book. he sighs with a soft smile of his face, “typical…” he mutters to himself.

the second saturday of october, you, yuji, and nobara somehow grouped megumi into playing with an ouija board.

after countless attempts of asking questions to the actual thin air, the planchette moves to the ‘yes’ side of the board after you and nobara jokingly asked: ‘does someone haunt the dorm room in the male east wing?’

the room was soon filled with screams of terror . . . needless to say you spent the night in your boyfriend’s dorm cuddled up in his arms.

the third saturday of october consists of going into tokyo for a street festival. traditional snacks, candy apples, cinnamon rolls and the smell of caramel wafts throughout the street. going hand in hand manoeuvring through the large crowd while looking at the cool vendors and displays and occasionally saying, “look 'gumi let's check this one out!”

with the fourth and final saturday of october, you currently reside in the commoner kitchen sitting on top of the counter watching megumi use halloween-themed cookie cutters on pre-made dough. the plan for tonight was to stay in and watch hocus pocus, after some time you break the comfortable silence.

"so... since when do you like halloween?" a small smirk plays on his lips, "who said i didn't?"

“you just don’t seem like the type, you know?” you take a neatly rolled up piece of cookie dough off the baking sheet to prop it in your mouth, “if i didn’t know you well enough, i’d probably think your favourite holiday was something boring like new year’s.”

he snickers at your claim but covers it up with a fake dry cough not wanting to give you that full satisfaction.

he ends up choosing to ignore your comment, “there’s a lot of things to do around the fall time that entertains me. that’s all.” you teasingly wiggle your eyebrows, clearly fascinated by this new discovery.

“did you ever dress up for halloween?”

“gojo used to dress me and tsumiki up all the time when we were little. one year we went as oompa loompas and he dressed as willy wonka.” his eyebrow slightly twitches in annoyance by the faint memory.

you hold in your laughter mainly to protect megumi’s ego and make a mental note to ask gojo for proof with pictures later.

“i’m glad you wanna spend this month with me it seems like it means a lot to you.” you blurt out suddenly while fondly smiling at him as you softly trace over his chuckles with your finger.

his breath gets stuck in his throat and he can practically feel the blush climbing from his neck up to his face. you always seem to do this to him; make him awestruck and flustered like an idiot with a freshly new crush. but in hindsight, he doesn’t think the puppy love phase will ever end, at least not for him, you still make his stomach flip and tumble after many months together.

contrary to popular belief, megumi believes that the month of love doesn’t take place in february, but in the month of october. where the orange, yellow, and red is a far more appealing set of colours than pink and white.

reblogs & feedback is extremely appreciated !! <3 a/n: in honor of it being september

[mysticstronomy]

WHY DOES TIME GO SLOWER IN SPACE??

Blog#329

Wednesday, September 6th, 2023

Welcome back,

Time dilation goes back to Einstein’s theory of special relativity, which teaches us that motion through space actually creates alterations in the flow of time. The faster you move through the three dimensions that define physical space, the more slowly you’re moving through the fourth dimension, time––at least relative to another object. Time is measured differently for the twin who moved through space and the twin who stayed on Earth.

The clock in motion will tick more slowly than the clocks we’re watching on Earth. If you’re able to travel near the speed of light, the effects are much more pronounced.

Unlike the Twin Paradox, time dilation isn’t a thought experiment or a hypothetical concept––it’s real. The 1971 Hafele-Keating experiments proved as much, when two atomic clocks were flown on planes traveling in opposite directions.

The relative motion actually had a measurable impact and created a time difference between the two clocks. This has also been confirmed in other physics experiments (e.g., fast-moving muon particles take longer to decay).

So in your question, an astronaut returning from a space journey at “relativistic speeds” (where the effects of relativity start to manifest—generally at least one-tenth the speed of light) would, upon return, be younger than same-age friends and family who stayed on Earth.

Exactly how much younger depends on exactly how fast the spacecraft had been moving and accelerating, so it’s not something we can readily answer. But if you’re trying to reach an exoplanet 10 to 50 light-years away and still make it home before you yourself die of old age, you’d have to be moving at close to light speed.

There’s another wrinkle here worth mentioning: time dilation as a result of gravitational effects. You might have seen Christopher Nolan’s movie Interstellar, where the close proximity of a black hole causes time on another planet to slow down tremendously (one hour on that planet is seven Earth years).

This form of time dilation is also real, and it’s because in Einstein’s theory of general relativity, gravity can bend spacetime, and therefore time itself. The closer the clock is to the source of gravitation, the slower time passes; the farther away the clock is from gravity, the faster time will pass.

Originally published on technologyreview-com

COMING UP!!

(Saturday, September 9th, 2023)

"WHAT IS THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN A STAR, A PLANET, AND A MOON??"

[farahsamboolents]

stranger things major dates:

(this is actually part of a much larger post i plan on making, with a loooot of background bullshit that nobody cares about, but this is just the dates :P please note that it took me a while to get the hang of this note taking thing so it’ll get more accurate as the seasons progress, feel free to fact check me)

(other thing to notes: I'm assuming that all of these dates are one after the other or even simultaneously, but according to wikis online, the timeline is much more stretched out, implying that there are other days we don't see.)

S1

Will went missing on November 6th, 1983. There were search parties November 6th and 7th; on November 7th there was the big storm and it was called off.

Steve’s party was on a Tuesday . Steve broke Jonathan’s camera the next day, which was the day of the funeral, as well as the day Will was rescued .

[UPDATE: i missed a day in here, because Steve breaking the camera was a catalyst for Nancy seeing the photos, which led to Nancy and Jonathan going monster hunting, and they spent the night together before Will was rescued. Sorry for the goof!]

Other dates mentioned:

Joyce has worked at Melvalds for ten years

According to Hop, the last missing person was summer of 23, last suicide in 61.

Seven years prior (1976) there was a drowning in the quarry

S2

The season starts on October 30th

Mike says into the walkie that it’s day 352

el tells hop on November 1st that it’s day 326 (since she moved in with Hop). She runs away on day 327.

Wills birthday is March 22nd.

The time skip is implied to be late November/early December (okay honestly i don’t remember how i came to this conclusion, it’s just in my notes. I think the title card must’ve said “one month later” or something.)

^ this is when Hawkins lab gets raided by govt vehicles with Murray watching, as well as Hop getting El’s forged birth certificate. The Snow Ball is around this time as well.

Other dates mentioned:

“Last month a coworker of Ted Wheeler’s” discussed El. Not sure how he blabbed after almost an entire year.

Steve was aiming for early application into college, which was closing soon.

Steve and Nancy were working on their Halloween costumes for “a stupid amount of time”.

At some point between S1 & 2, they took Will to a doctor in Chicago.

Nancy says she waited. Jonathan says only a month.

S3

The only actual date on the timeline I noted was the fourth of July. Sorry. I'd have to count backwards for the rest of the plot points and I guarantee I will count wrong.

There is a time skip for three months later, which would now be October 1985.

Other dates mentioned:

El watches Miami Vice on Fridays. It starts at 10.

The Hawkins Post tagline says "Courage in Journalism since 1947".

The Journal Tribune publishes an article headlined "SCANDAL ROCKS SMALL TOWN" about Starcourt on July 11th, 1985

The Indianapolis Gazette publishes an article headlined "THIRTY DEAD", and the subheader reads "Hero Chief Dies in Fire" on July 15th, 1985

The Journal Tribune publishes an article headlined "MAYOR UNDER FIRE", and above it there is text that reads "Hawkins makes headlines around the nation" on July 12th, 1985

After the three month time skip, a news special on Channel 4 WCPK-TV links Satanism and D&D for the first time within the show

The Byers are packing up after the time skip. Jonathan says, "Seventeen years of my life. Packed up in one day." (kind of impressive tbh)

Mike initially planned on visiting the Byers for Thanksgiving, and El is supposed to come back for Christmas (this obviously does not happen).

S4

The massacre at Hawkins Lab was September 8th, 1979.

(apparently I neglected to take note of any actual Date Dates after this)

The season starts on the Friday before Spring break.

Mike arrives in Lenora on Saturday morning.

El is arrested on Sunday.

Joyce and Murray are told to meet Yuri in two days on a Saturday, which means that episode takes place on a Monday.

The original Creel murders happened in 1959.

When Erica yells at Jason, she says she's been covering for Lucas for two days.

The faux reference latter that Nancy has for Director Hatch is dated March 29th, 1986

Lucas and Max agree to a movie date the following Friday

The death toll two days later is 22

Other dates mentioned:

Max sees Miss Kelly on Thursdays

The Indianapolis Gazette published an article headlined "3 Dead as Police Probe Grisly Scene" about Creel on Thursday, March 18, 1959 (the text on the date is super blurry, I'm mostly confident I got Thursday and March right but I can only mostly tell the date is two digits, and the first digit is a 1)

Victor Creel was back from war for 14 years when he bought the house in Hawkins

Billy was born March 29, 1967

The Nina Project was named after the opera Nina by Nicolas Dalayrac in 1786

Dustin's birthday is in two months, three days, and five hours (from when they reach Suzie)

The dates on Brenner's tapes:

Dustin's shirt says "Craftsbury Banjo Contest" with the year 1986 on it

The Hawkins Presbyterian Church was constructed in 1897

[pers-books]

Doctor Who - The Stuff of Legend LIVE!

Paul McGann and India Fisher to star in special one-off live recording of a brand-new Eighth Doctor adventure.

To celebrate the 25th anniversary of licensed Doctor Who audio dramas, Big Finish Theatre, in partnership with BBC Studios, Fourth Wall Live and AEG, is proud to announce a unique full-cast live recording event, taking place at Cadogan Hall, London on Saturday 14 September 2024. 

For the very first time, Doctor Who fans will be able to watch an all-star cast take to the stage to perform a brand-new audio play, The Stuff of Legend, by Robert Valentine. 

Leading the cast is Paul McGann as the Eighth Doctor and India Fisher as his indomitable companion Charley Pollard. They’ll be joined onstage by Alex Macqueen as the Master alongside Nicholas Briggs, who voices the Doctor’s unstoppable arch-enemy, the Daleks. 

Something is afoot in the lonely Cornish village of Merrymaid Bay. Rumours of dead men working in the tin mines have sent a chill through the community, and it's up to the Doctor and Charley to get to the bottom of the mystery.  

Can the legends of the Bucca that haunts the mines be true? And just what awesome power do the Doctor’s greatest enemies – the Daleks! – threaten to unleash upon the universe? 

Tickets will be available to order at www.doctorwhoaudiolive.com from 10:00 (UK time) on Friday 05 July, with prices beginning at £18.00. 

Big Finish executive producer Jason Haigh-Ellery said: “25 years? It feels like 25 seconds! Producing the audio adventures of Doctor Who has been such a joy that two and a half decades has flown by – almost as if we have all been in the time vortex with the Doctor. 

“We’ve enjoyed ourselves so much producing thousands of hours of audio drama adventures – and now we have the chance to show fans of the series how the audio productions are made, with a new live performance – the first time Doctor Who has been performed live on stage since 1989.” 

Dominic Walker, Global Business Director at BBC Studios, added: “After 25 years of working with Big Finish on the Doctor Who audio adventures, BBC Studios is excited to now be bringing a live version to the stage. The Stuff of Legend is a fitting celebration and I am delighted that fans will be able to witness the recording of such a momentous anniversary story up close and personal.” 

Please note: Cadogan Hall has limited capacity so fans are advised to book quickly to avoid disappointment.  

Simultaneous to the live stage show, a full-cast studio production of Doctor Who: The Stuff of Legend will be released on 14 September 2024. Big Finish listeners can pre-order this adventure now for just £15.99 (collector’s edition double CD + download) or £12.99 (download only) exclusively here. This will also be available to purchase as a collector’s edition CD at the event. 

All the above prices include the special pre-order discount and are subject to change after general release. 

Please note that Big Finish is currently operating a digital-first release schedule. The mail-out of collector’s edition CDs may be delayed due to factors beyond our control, but all purchases of this release unlock a digital copy that can be immediately downloaded or played on the Big Finish app from the release date.

[prettyboysdontlookatexplosions]

nine weeks down, six to go! 60% of the way there! i worked ummm 23.5 hours unless i fucked up my quick math because i haven't actually put any of my sessions into my time tracking app since monday... a slower week partly because three weekend students rescheduled for sometime this week due to long weekend lans, and partly because, well, you know, other stuff occupying my mind. and, with that in mind, given the Things that were Going On, i personally think we all did great just to make it here, don't you?

one of my kids is testing tomorrow and may or may not be stopping tutoring after that; another two are testing this week and definitely continuing (one of them i am VERY stressed about score-wise and the other i think will eventually be fine by her december test date). there's an SAT student potentially in the pipeline which would be nice in terms of getting me through the winter lull but i haven't heard an update on whether it's happening in a few days. it did recently dawn on me that of students in my fall crop who definitely will or depending on scores may be continuing into january, four of them are weekend students... don't love that but what can you do.

i didn't get to five blurbs for TSJ week, but three is better than none; i didn't quite finish flowers in the attic but i'm pretty close and going to cozy up with it after i log off. i hit four workouts and then last night slept by absolute shit with an earlier-than-usual start and got my period so today's upper body day didn't happen and i will, sigh, not finish the program by thanksgiving, but i will in fact finish it. we got some outside kitchen help and have been mostly pretty good about maintaining it. i did ALL my laundry on my day off tutoring saturday (fourth day without tutoring since september 15th!) for the first time... a while... and perhaps i will at some point even finish putting it away. i didn't really work much on my room beyond that but that alone is a pretty decent improvement. no free store this week but i went to the movies with friends a few nights ago (heretic, a very fun time) and to book club today (flowers in the attic as mentioned before, an absolutely bonkers insane novel), and zoomed with d., i have sichuan plans with a friend this week. i kind of didn't want to hang with a certain group first thing post-election but, guess what, [redacted] flaked, lol. i told myself i had through today to remain hooked up by IV to the Takes machine re: election and i have now closed all my phone tabs and cleared my history, which is a tip i recommend for a light non-extreme digital detox because it forces you to type the URL of anywhere you want to go rather than getting it autofilled, which is the kind of friction i need on this matter, lol.

this week, oh who knows. keep on keeping on, work out, text back [g] whom i have been meaning to text back for two months, keep getting the work done, ideally end the week with the room a little better than it is now and the kitchen about as good as it was... let's say two days ago. lol. my later monday student cancelled for tomorrow and i am thinking i will use the extra time to treat myself to go see the apprentice as a treat, which i realize may sound deranged but do you know the more i think about it the more i think it would actually have been more stressful to watch it before we knew how things would turn out? six more weeks, and week three is thanksgiving, which will provide at least a one-day respite, and week five will already be lighter, and week six will be easier still! the finish line is perhaps not in sight but is right around the bend!

[twincaptains]

Obsequium Part I: Chapter One: Ford's September

TITLE: Obsequium Part I: Chapter One: Ford’s September PAIRINGS:  Dipford (Ford x Dipper), Bipford, (Bipper x Ford), regular Billford (Bill x Ford) Pinecest (Dipper x Mabel), Stancest, (Stan x Ford), and possibly others. Gotta see where this thing takes me. SUMMARY: It’s been four years since Ford emerged from the portal and reclaimed the Mystery Shack. Stanley, Soos, Wendy, Mabel? They’re all gone, but he and Dipper remain to destroy what’s left of Bill. Dipper and Mabel’s parents have since divorced, their mother living alone on the east coast and Mabel living with her father in Seattle. As the Mystery Twins enter their 17th year, things seem to be going poorly. Stan and Ford are still not speaking to each other, and that doesn’t look like it will change anytime soon. Meanwhile, Dipper is receiving a top-notch education from Ford – he’s already graduated from high school and has several bachelor’s degrees. Still, something is amiss … I wonder what that might be? Is it Dipper’s perpetual sweatiness and unignorable teenage shortcomings? Or is it the whispers that keep beckoning from the woods … Ford journals about it, and is a jerk. NOTES: I am posting to Tumblr for now, but eventually will be cross-posting to Ao3. I am in line to get an account, and should have one by the end of the month. So … this thing is gonna get pretty intense in fairly short order, so I suggest you look under the cut to see if there’s any triggering content on the road ahead that might bother you. I don’t want anyone to get invested and THEN get upset.

CHAPTER WARNINGS: Drug abuse, caregiver neglect OVERALL WARNINGS: Incest, sibling incest, minor, coercive control, mind control, caregiver neglect, physical abuse, emotional abuse, sexual abuse, dubious consent (dubcon), body horror, suicidal ideation, food restriction, sleep deprivation, self-harm, drug abuse, being drugged, lost time, and I’m going to specifically going to warn for “Ford being cruel to Stanley”, because it made me upset when I wrote it so I want to warn for it. If I forgot anything, please let me know and I will fix it IMMEDIATELY. I will add more if anything else comes up.   Chapter Two is here!! Alright. Now that we’ve established where this is going … let’s get there.

FORD’S SEPTEMBER

-

Saturday, September 3rd:

Dipper returned late last night from his week-long sabbatical with his father and sister in Seattle, eager to begin his fourth year of study. By the end of this year, he should have his first Masters. He says that I should find his thesis both stimulating and hilarious, which I doubt but I commend him for the effort. He is a very capable student but is still held back by some of the unfortunate distractions a boy of his age typically deals with. He confessed to me before he left to visit his family that he'd been feeling quite lonely and isolated lately, which I understand, but unfortunately that's the nature of our work. He'll have plenty of time to make friends and enemies after we finish sealing all the cracks that Bill made in the fabric of this town. While I was annoyed that we had to halt our momentum so that he could fulfill familial obligations; it did give me some time to think about how to better mentor him. Another thing: while I never had an issue with being distracted by such urges; he's clearly struggling with his hormones. An acceptable problem for a boy his age to have, but it's really starting to get in the way of our work. He can't focus on anything for longer than a few minutes and the sweatiness is starting to become medically concerning. I've tried directing him to meditate or thinking about something else, which always works for me, but I forget that not everyone has my admirable levels of self-control and willpower. He is just a boy, after all.

In my dimensional travels, I'd encountered a device that would come in handy in a situation like this: A virtual reality helmet that can quickly and efficiently satisfy biological urges and clear away burgeoning curiosities. The problem would be obtaining one of the damn things; while I can easily find somewhere to order one on the VerseWeb, they don't ship to this dimension or take any of the currency I have. Furthermore, I can't just hand a teenaged boy a device like that without calibrating it first and making sure certain safeguards are in place -- and an off-the-shelf model just isn't going to be able to penetrate the plate in my skull.

 What I am able to do is find the schematics online, modify them, build my own and then download the software so I can calibrate it myself.

So, I did that!

The next time I notice him getting all twitchy and distant; I'll sit him down and present him with the OBSEC-8177, software version 3.2.9. He can go off and do whatever for about 15 minutes, and then hopefully become a more manageable student and more productive assistant.

Today we're working on some coursework, and then after the sun goes down it's out into the woods to track down the source of the whispers we both keep hearing.

-

Tuesday, September 6th: 

Our search for the whisperer was unfruitful, but it was at least refreshing. I'd been stuck in the house building the OBSEC the entire time Dipper had been gone. I sometimes forget the power of a good night walk, gets the blood pumping and the brain moving. I was able to have a decent talk with the boy, about where his studies are heading next and more about the important work we are doing.

I try not to tell him too much, for one I don't want to overwhelm him -- he's been through a lot and even though he's quick on the uptake, he still has his limits. For another, even though he has not shown me any reason not to, I don't trust him. He was very easily deceived by Bill for promises much more foolish and pettier than what I was offered, and his general anxiousness leads me to believe that he'd have trouble keeping his mouth shut if he were ever faced with torture, or even a light interrogation. He just doesn't have the focus nor the tools to endure that kind of thing.

Speaking of, the OBSEC is going to make its grand debut this evening. It didn't take long for Dipper to get distant and distracted on me, and it's very clear where his mind keeps wandering. I fear that week with his sister did little to dial down his inner tension, if anything he seems more agitated than ever. If this trend continues, I may have to insist he suspend his visits with her after next year, when he'll no longer be subject to the tempestuous family court system.

My hope is that spending some time clearing out the chemical garbage clogging up his brain will be able to help him find a proper center so that I can start letting him know about what we're doing, here. When he's done erasing all the messages Stanley's left me on my answering machine in the last few days, I'll let him take the helmet for a spin.

-

Friday, September 9th:

Success! Dipper has been an amazing assistant and an above par student these last few days. The OBSEC was just the shot in the arm he needed to become fully grounded and invested in our work. We've been able to make substantial progress in expanding and fortifying the forcefield that will keep that rancid triangle out of here for good. In the meantime, it will give me some space to either figure out a way to repair the dimensional rift OR keep it so well guarded that it will never be in danger of breaking free.

For now, the only way Bill is getting anywhere near my lab (and the rift) is if he's invited.

And he won't be, simple as that.

I really can't emphasize enough how much Dipper has improved. I had him take another look at a quantum problem that he was having immense difficulty with before his break, and he was able to see past his snag and solve it almost immediately. He demanded several more to make sure he'd really gotten it, which I was happy to provide. He finally believes me that they're fun, enjoyable, and foundational for the rest of his education. We'd been stuck here for a moment, it was going to be impossible for me to move to the next phase until he understood these concepts. It seems he has found his footing now, and I have a feeling he's going to really like what I have for him next: xenostring theory.

Oh, to be young and naive again ... I'll never forget the way I felt when I started studying xenostrings for the first time. Sure, I was 43, but I still felt the same rush of excitement and thrill of discovery that I'd feel when riding roller coasters and educational dark rides as a red-faced teen. And after xenostring theory, then...

No, no. I don't want to get too ahead of myself. I'll end up rushing the boy through what should be a sacred experience that he needs to take at his own pace.

-

Tuesday, September 13th

I've been busy these last few days helping Dipper with the basics of xenostring theory, which he has taken to like a duck to water. I'm encouraging his enthusiasm, which I admit is a little bit mean, as that has set him up for failure.  However, the overall lesson his failure will teach him may very well be more valuable than what he's trying to learn.

What he doesn't know, and what most that get into the field don't understand at first, is that xenostrings abhor enthusiasm and infatuation. The harder you fixate on them, the more impossible they are to discern. Dipper needs to learn to become more detached from his core emotions so that he can better perform his work, and until he learns how to do that, the array I've requested him to arrange will refuse to hold its shape. He's threatening to stay up all night to try and get it to work, and I'm debating whether I should intervene. Sleep is necessary for thinking, yet his current frustration is going to make the eventual lesson that much more potent and memorable. I'll see how I feel about it when we pause for a nutrient break this evening.

-

Wednesday, September 14th

Dipper is still working on the xenostring array, undeterred. He requested some stimulant medication earlier this morning, as coffee just wasn't doing it for him anymore, and I relented and let him have some of the green capsules I picked up during my extended layover on Vulpis VII. This may have been a mistake, as he seems to be having some sort of episode over the collapsed pile of xenostrings on the lab floor. His vitals seem fine, so I'm not concerned as of yet. If he pulls any more of his hair out, I may have to force an antidote of some sort into him. I think the purple ones I got on Canis IV should work well enough, though I should probably leave him in the bathtub overnight if it comes down to that.

Still, the wailing, moaning and gnashing of teeth will all be worth it in the end. I think he's getting close to figuring out that he needs to care less about what the strings are and what they're doing, and more about the fact that the strings are just plain nifty. But not too nifty, nifty in the way a tabloid cover entertains you while you're waiting in line to buy more peanut butter.

I should wrap this up, I think he just tried to choke himself out. Maybe I should be watching him a bit closer.

-

Saturday, September 17th

The comedown from the stimulants wasted two whole days, and I learned to never trust the boy's stated tolerance levels ever again. I didn't have to give him any antidotes, but anything he managed to learn he did not retain. He's frustrated with me, but I'm more frustrated with him for missing the point entirely. He said he felt better this morning, at least, but instead of sending him back to the xenostrings I suggested we investigate the whispering in the woods again. It was particularly potent last night, to the point both of us were sure that we could hear it indoors. Neither of us can quite make out what's being said, but it doesn't seem to be hostile in any way. Almost... inviting. Which means it's probably hostile.

Dipper had the brilliant idea of staying in the area around the house and trying to catch the whispers on some sort of audio equipment. He says that some spirits prefer magnetic tape, others prefer more modern digital means, and luckily for us we have both. He says that he has software on his computer that can enhance and analyze the audio, if we manage to catch any, which would be extremely useful if that's true. I don't really have a grasp on what computers can and can't do in this world. They were never really my forte in the first place; I just brute force my way through and have someone else clean up my mess a little later. Those were the days before software came in neat little executables and instead needed to be manually programmed and engaged each time you wanted to use it. I'll leave all of that to him, he needs a genuine win after his week of abject failures.

-

Tuesday, September 20th

We certainly heard a lot of whispers, so many that we went out a second night. Dipper is arranging and analyzing the audio now, which takes a bit of time. He says that he's already managed to isolate some of what we were hearing, he just needs to finish scrubbing through nearly 20 hours of waveforms to see what else we've picked up. It's promising, to be sure! I just wish there was a way it could be done a little more quickly. He said if I knew how to use the computer even a little that I could cut his workload in half, but I have neither the time nor the desire to learn the ins and outs of that showy, anorexic rectangle he calls a computer. I have been spending my time doing something much more sensible: investigating the logistics of getting a restraining order on my brother.

He already knows not to come around here, I'll shoot him if I see him on the property again, but the phone calls are really starting to get to me. Sometimes up to twice a day, if the mood strikes him. I have no idea what he's playing at, I don't have the patience to deal with whatever con he's running. Probably just asking for money. I wouldn't know; Dipper has been dealing with these messages for years. They're just so ... incessant, lately. Sometimes I can hear his voice when I'm in the other room, and I'm just so sick and tired of it. It makes focusing on my work much harder than it needs to be.

-

Wednesday, September 21st

Dipper has insisted I stop researching restraining orders, pointing out that it would only antagonize my brother further. The best thing to do, if I really want to keep him at arm's length, is to let him babble into the void. He may be correct about that, but I am more correct.

I'll just pursue it the next time Dipper's not here. I think he's expected in Seattle for Thanksgiving; perhaps I'll find the time, then. Granted, a lot of government offices will be closed, but perhaps I can yell at one of those rectangular surveillance devices people call phones and it will tell me the information I need.

This is annoying and unnecessary!

-

Friday, September 23rd

Dipper presented his findings from our excursion last weekend to me today, and I have to say -- they're quite impressive. He managed to catch several instances of the voices we heard, but not all. It was fascinating because, as he said, some existed on the magnetic tapes that did not exist on digital devices running at the same time, and vice versa. Others, which we reacted to, did not seem to be picked up by the equipment at all. Dipper was able to enhance the audio and noticed that it sounded a bit like backmasking -- which inspired him to reverse the sounds using his software. To his surprise, we captured what is, without a doubt, intelligible speech. In plain English, each time it showed up in the recording, it was saying:

"You'll trip and fall right into me."

It sounds like a bad song lyric, if you ask me, but it seems rather ominous, doesn't it? The voice doesn't sound like Bill, but Bill can sound like anything or anyone. Is he behind it? His taunts to me are usually much more direct, there's no reference to my body odor which has me doubtful, but if it IS from him, what does that even mean? I'll trip and fall right into you?

Hardly.

HARDLY!

I'm more fortified than ever. There is no angle I have not considered. Any vulnerability he might exploit is either out of sight or out of mind. Dipper isn't foolish enough to be taken in by him again, and I'm not foolish enough to put him in a position where he might be.

Get over yourself, Bill. Trip and fall right into a bottomless ravine.

-

Sunday, September 25th

Unexpectedly, Dipper had an interesting breakthrough with the xenostrings! He had left them alone for a few days, and sure enough, when he returned to them, they behaved much better. He's figured out that they're responding to his emotional state, which I am impressed with. It took me quite a while to get there, given how frustrated I used to become when I didn't get something that seemed obvious to everyone else.

This breakthrough also happened to come after an unfortunately needed break in our work to tend to the property itself. The leaves are already coming down, and we need to stay on top of them before they get on top of us. Then there's the matter of trimming trees, seeing if any need to be knocked down, and just general maintenance on both the grounds and the house.

By throwing himself into physical labor, and by focusing on the task of decoding the whispers we captured last weekend, he managed to detach himself from his infatuation with the strings. Maybe I should work him a bit harder; it might stimulate further eureka moments for him.

-

Wednesday, September 28th

Last night was another notable one for whispers from the woods; though the message definitely has changed. Dipper and I are debating over whether it's Bill trying to mess with us in some way, or if it's some other creature trying to get our attention -- for nefarious purposes or not. We've found the more we ignore it, the more insistent it tends to be. Occasionally saying "Sure!" or "Whatever!" will get it to quiet down for a little while before it works its way back into a constant hissing in the background.

We haven't set up any equipment to try and record it yet, I'm waffling on whether we should engage at all. It seems aware we were able to figure out the first message, which is why there's something new for us to look at now. Something doesn't feel quite right about it.

I'm outside listening to them build, now. Dipper needed to take a break with the OBSEC machine, and I'm inclined to let him. That thing is a miracle, I'm finally working with the protege I deserve. It's kept him so focused and level-headed, much more able to follow my lead. We've made such progress in such a short time! I can't even begin to imagine where we'll be by the New Year.

The whispers sound even more different now, and louder than before. Probably insults I'm better off not hearing. Dipper did leave his recorders out here, though. Maybe I'll try and catch some of this, it might interest him when he gets back from putting his head on straight.

-

Friday, September 30th

"Don't be so sure."

"I'm closer than you think."

Nonsense. Utter NONSENSE!

The whispers are indeed different. Still backmasked, still desperate and pathetic.

I can't believe this, I'm almost certain it's Bill now. This is what he's spending his time doing? Trying to get me to play Marco Polo in the woods? I used to think that was fun, but I don't anymore. I have no idea what he's playing at, nor why he's able to project his voice so forcefully into the barrier I spent so much time meticulously crafting.

I suppose the makeup of the town itself is to blame. I can't get far enough under the house to fortify the bedrock of the property; he might be able to seep in via the groundwater. Running water is always a problem, and of course I live in the middle of a lush forest instead of the desert.

If I'm aware I'm being taunted, I can't be taunted. Dipper is similarly unimpressed, though he does seem a bit troubled by it all. He doesn't seem as interested in eating lately, which is a sign that he's thinking too much. I think he needs some extra time with the OBSEC, the stress of both his xenostring array and Bill being annoying might be testing his limits.

-

TBC In Part I, Chapter Two: Dipper’s September

[rabbitcruiser]

International Rabbit Day

International Rabbit Day is celebrated on September 23 of this year. A day for the rabbits or bunnies as to bring awareness about the plight they are facing. Rabbits are the long-eared, short-tailed mammal with fluffy soft hair which is not only pets but are killed for various other reasons. The International Rabbit Day is observed as to promote, protect and care for the rabbits both the domestic and wild.

“The raccoons, foxes, beavers, chinchillas, minks, rabbits, and yes, sometimes even dogs and cats that are killed for fur are not very different from your beloved dog or cat. They all have eyes, ears, and hearts. They all experience pain when they are physically maimed. They shake with fear when they experience terror.” – Jane Velez-Mitchell

History of International Rabbit Day

International Rabbit Day was founded by The Rabbit Charity from the UK in the year 1998. The day will usually be observed on the fourth Saturday or Sunday in the month of September. The aim of the Charity is to protect abandoned or unwanted rabbits and provide them with permanent shelters. Celebrating the day for bunnies will promote and educate all sort of people about the threats faced by them. Rabbits can be kept as a pet as they will be a good companionship to the humans. Rabbits are usually referred as a symbol of fertility or rebirth. They have long been related to the spring and Easter as the Easter Bunny. The habitat of rabbits includes grasslands, meadows, woods, deserts, and wetlands. Rabbits usually live in groups, and the European rabbits are the best-known species. They live in the underground burrows, or in the rabbit holes. More than half of the world’s rabbit population lives in the North America. Most often people think that rabbits are quiet and reserved pets, but any rabbit parent will tell you that the pet rabbits have a lot of personalities and offer lots of companionships. When rabbits are happy, then they will jump and twist which is called as the binky. Bunnies are very expressive and sensitive mammals that do all kinds of quirky and endearing behavior. On the other side, rabbits are harmed for medical and cosmetic testing, hunting, eating, fur farming and, casseroling. Thus, International Rabbit Day aims in providing some awareness about this charming little bunnies.

How to Celebrate International Rabbit Day

The best way to celebrate International Rabbit Day is you can adopt a bunny if hadn’t owned one. If you already have a bunny, then take some extra time to spend with those lovable pets. Bring awareness to the people near you about the plight of the rabbits.

Source

[floridaboiler]

HAPPY INTERNATIONAL RABBIT DAY!!! International Rabbit Day is celebrated on the fourth Saturday of September every year. Although we would love to celebrate bunnies every day, this day is especially observed to promote the care and protection of domestic and wild rabbits.

[girldragongizzard]

Chapter 7: Ptarmigan’s folly

Saturday isn’t the best day to start work on your own name change, but it’s the seventh of September and I have a fresh SSI deposit in my bank and no rent I need to pay. So, after the morning song, which I manage to initiate by starting just a smidge early, I settle down in the coffee shop with my tablet to learn about how to do it, and maybe pay the fees to get it started.

It looks like the procedure is pretty easy in Washington state, but there are two little snags.

It’s expensive. I can afford it, because I’m not paying rent. Kind of. That money is ideally going to go toward food now, though. But I can supplement my diet with seagulls if I have to.

And, I need more identification than just my enhanced state ID. Like, my birth certificate. And that’s in the stuff that’s supposedly been boxed up and sent to Nathan’s place to put in his garage. When Joel crashed through my apartment wall and trashed the place, I got evicted and trespassed. So, we’d arranged for that, and Nathan says it all seems to have arrived safely, but I haven’t had a chance to go through it all because he lives in another dragon’s territory.

I double check my Discord server for whose it is.

Ah, the individual I’d nicknamed Godzilla, who on my server is going by gronk_lizard.

I shoot him a DM asking if I may have permission to visit Nathan’s garage and look through my stuff that’s stored there. And then fret about the response, which doesn’t come immediately, or for a while.

OK, there’s a third and fourth snag in the name change process, but I’ve already talked about those, and plan to just deal with them when they come up. If I have to, I can send a human emissary to get permission from Waits to enter their territory to go to court. And there’s got to be some kind of concession for altered appearances with a photo ID, especially since other trans folk exist and go through this in their own way. Maybe that’s what the birth certificate is for.

I’m really hoping that asking permission with other dragons is going to work for visiting their areas of the city. This is so new, and I don’t think we’ve really tested this before. But, I think I’d be pretty reasonably chill myself if another dragon asked me, especially after my encounter with Astraia.

Gotta try it someday, why not today?

And I did. And I’m fretting, because gronk_lizard isn’t returning my message yet. He’s not even online, though.

As I take a moment drink my coffee, I realize that I’m hyperfocusing on this because maybe I feel the need to get back into, or establish, a mundane daily routine. I’m trying to ground myself in my identity, which is fair. But now that I’ve done what I can for the day and hit a hurry-up-and-wait snag, it kind of hurts.

The events of the last week, finishing off with that conversation yesterday, have been a bit much.

Especially that conversation. Especially the idea that I might be an Artist.

The idea feels absurd to me.

I don’t have an Art. Not that I know of. I don’t draw or write. Though I’m definitely thinking about writing! But I have no practice in it. I don’t do music. I don’t program. All I’ve ever really done is watch movies, read books, and daydream about being a dragon.

A lot of daydreaming about that. Especially as my chronic fatigue set in and I couldn’t do much else. Which.

I don’t have chronic fatigue anymore and it turns out I’m actually a dragon. So, what do I do?

I fucking go flying, eat seagulls, fight other dragons, and get in a turf war with the biggest, richest wizard in town, apparently!

Or, am I?

Is David Säure an Artist?

Or, did I misunderstand what Ptarmigan was saying?

I think about the main points of yesterday’s conversation, and realize that so much of what was said by both Ptarmigan and Chapman could be interpreted several different ways. And Chapman’s been talking like that since I met hir.

When Kimberly asked Ptarmigan her age, and Ptarmigan responded with “forty-nine”, she didn’t specific of what. Forty-nine years? Seconds? Eons? Heck, she didn’t even say, “I am”, so it might not even have been an answer. Just, “Forty-nine, I think.” Like, “I’m thinking of the number forty-nine.”

And, the reason this sticks with me is because I caught when Kimberly asked more directly if Ptarmigan was forty-nine years old, and Ptarmigan said, “No.”

I take a glance around the coffee shop and the street outside through the windows, and don’t see anyone I know well besides Nathan and Cerce behind the counter.

For some reason, my thoughts feel more private knowing I’m basically alone, and I continue puzzling this.

Maybe Ptarmigan was just saying that Daniel Säure’s involvement in local dragon politics is due to the work of an Artist, not that he was one.

I don’t want to give a billionaire any benefit of the doubt, but I’ve gotta concede I don’t know anything about him. Not even why he’s gone personally reclusive lately. And he could just be this hapless human being with way too much money and way too much interest in local politics.

The part where Ptarmigan was painfully honest and transparent, though, was when she admitted that she didn’t know if I was an Artist, only that it was a guess, and that she’d used divination to find the center of the global metamorphosis and it was apparently me.

Either she was outright lying there, or I was the center of it for some reason.

So, like, we’ve got this pair of immortal beings, supposedly. Or people pretending to be immortal beings, but they can definitely do magic of some sort. And they both have this habit of telling partial truths, or phrases that might as well be partial truths, to mislead or hide the actual truth. It creates this precedent of communication where I guess I expect them to keep up that habit.

So, when one of them then goes, “I don’t actually know. That was a guess. But what I found is that you’re at the center of this dragon event,” well, it stands out. It’s not the same pattern of communication.

What does that mean?

This is going to give me main character syndrome if I think about it too much.

If I take Ptarmigan’s report at face value, does that mean that my dream that night, in which I tore off my human disguise, was indicative of something bigger?

If I’m an Artist and don’t know about it, would that have been me subconsciously practicing my Art? Does dreaming count as an Art?

Or, maybe it’s transformation that’s the Art, but dreaming was my expression of it at the time.

If I had paper and could write this down, I feel like it would make sense on it. But, emotionally, it’s not clicking with me. I just feel numb and disconnected with it when I think about the idea that my own transformation, my own personal desires made manifest, actually affected the entire rest of the planet.

It’s just too much.

But I lift my chin and tilt my head like that one meme, and think that transformation would be a pretty fucking fantastic Art to have. Phenomenally powerful.

If I could somehow do that, transform myself or other people or things, I could use that Art to smooth out so many problems the, uh, global dracomorphosis is causing. At least locally, I think.

And trying it would either confirm or debunk Ptarmigan’s claims.

I could maybe get into that.

I’m honestly at a loss for what else to do, besides to continue networking with my new friends and trying to build a local coalition of dragons while some billionaire tries to ship us one by one out of the county.

There’s been no helicopter for the past two nights, though, that I know of, so it seems like we’ve got a bit of a reprieve. And I should probably take advantage of that.

Networking should only take a couple hours each day, at most, ideally. So the rest of the day I can use for planning, scheming, processing the idea of being somehow immortal or something myself, and experimenting.

Doing that might even keep me out of trouble with my neighboring dragons. You know, by mostly keeping to myself.

Except, I do want to move forward on this name change thing, and that is going to take some leg work. Or wing work.

Well.

I drink some more coffee, and focus on the process of doing that. Like eating, it's also pleasant, if nothing like what I used to do with a human mouth.

The best part of it for me, now, is tasting the air above the coffee before drinking it. There’s just so much detail to the aroma of the steam, so many volatiles lifting away in it. Each one is a different note of flavor. It's almost like I can taste each individual molecule as it alights on my tongue.

But, then, bathing my tongue in the liquid is a totally different beautiful experience, too. There's even more flavor there, but it all blends and swirls around my taste buds as I immerse my chin deep enough into the bowl to function as kind of a ladle, and lick.

Three licks and swallows with snout in bowl gives me a sense of drinking sips kind of like before. And then I lift my head up and back to swallow the gulp of fluid in the bottom of my mouth.

A huff and my tongue is swathed in the warmth of coffee breath and a whole other set of flavors, and I feel like I’ve permeated myself with the myriad of fascinating chemicals that make up the hot extract of coffee beans. Head high, eyes closing, I allow myself to float on the sensations and the memories they bring of doing this almost every morning since I awoke to my true self.

I hear the front door bell chime and jingle and have to stop myself from imitating the noise in response. I close my eyes tighter to distance myself from it.

After a couple of seconds, I hear Ptarmigan speaking to me her desert thunder of a voice.

“We should go for a walk,” she says. “Or, if you know some place private, that would be better. I want to work with you on something, if you’re up for it.”

I open my eyes and look at her in the collarbone. She’s dressed in exactly the same clothes as yesterday.

I’m not done with my coffee yet, so then I look at it, and then look back up at her.

“I’m sorry. You can take your time. I mean, I would like to meet with you some time today, if possible,” she says. “Can you? Will you? Do you have a good place for that?”

“Yes. Okay. Stay,” I say, without pulling out my tablet. Then I go for another mouthful of coffee and make a demonstration of it.

I don’t exactly dislike Ptarmigan. I’m intrigued by her. But I feel like she has disrupted my life just as thoroughly as Joel did when he crashed through my wall. And I do not trust her.

That lack of trust seems more important than anything.

And what she’s revealed to me has damaged my trust in Chapman, too, and I am not grateful for that.

I find that I don’t really want to do anything with Ptarmigan without Rhoda by my side. But she does have her own life, and she’s not here right now.

After sitting with the fumes of my last gulp of coffee for long enough that I feel I’ve made my point, I pull out my tablet and ask a simple question with it.

“What?” I inquire.

“I want to help you explore what I talked about yesterday,” Ptarmigan says. “Privacy would be good so that you don’t feel so self conscious about it. I like going for walks, but I understand your territory is smaller these days. Maybe your roof would work?”

Unfortunately, that’s exactly what I’m in the mood for doing right now. I’m so anxious today, I think I’m done with my coffee, despite how I’ve been trying to wallow in it.

I may not trust Ptarmigan, and I’m not exactly confident in my own decision making skills lately. But I’ve been really great at learning new stuff from my mistakes, and I’m desperate to be doing something productive and new.

I put my tablet away again and stand up, saying, “Okay. Go.” And then I walk out the door and lead the way to the fire escape.

It’s got one of those sets of stairs that only lower when weight is put on them, but I can reach that easily and pull it down, which I do. I climb partway up that and then wait for Ptarmigan to follow. And then we both climb to the top floor.

Leaping up to grab the roof from there is much easier than the last time I did it, and I’m sure I’ve grown a bit in length now.

Once up and in my new home, the rooftop, I turn around and watch Ptarmigan to see if she has any manner of getting up here herself.

She just watches me back, passively.

OK.

My haunches and tail are heavier than my front, so I figure I can help her up while using my hips as a fulcrum. I keep my wings folded and held as far back as possible while I walk to place my hind claws near the edge of the roof. Then I crouch and lean down and offer Ptarmigan my foreclaws, my tail rising in the air and arching behind me.

Then, when she grabs my foreclaws, I flap my wings furiously and lift with my legs to pull us both back up.

She walks up the side of the building with her feet and it all works pretty well.

I allow myself to be pleased with my feat of balance and strength.

Then we make our way to the center of the roof. And as I flap my wings a few times to stretch them again after working them for our ascent, her duster billows.

I find that I wish she was wearing a pair of dark black rimmed wrap around sunglasses, but she’s not.

“OK,” she says. “We can go about this a couple of different ways. We should try both. What are your hobbies? Do you do anything creative?”

“No,” I say. I hesitate for a moment to let that sink in, but then I pull out my tablet, and she watches me as I turn it on and make sure my app is open. “I used to read,” I take the time to say. “I used to daydream.”

“What do you do now?” she asks.

“Know Artists. Fight. Be dragon. Eat seagull. And fly,” I say, completely deadpan as usual. 

I’m being subtly funny, but it’s also basically the truth. Ever since my metamorphosis, I’ve been so content in a way I’ve never been before, despite all the stressors, that my usual coping mechanisms haven’t had any draw to me.

“Huh. OK,” my oblique reference to a meme seems to go right over her head. “What were you doing the night of the metamorphosis?”

“Dreaming,” I reply. “Woke up dragon.”

“Right. What was your dream about?”

“Removing human disguise.”

She points at me.

I figured as much.

“That’s it.” Then she sits down on the black tar roof, and says, “Now, describe that dream in detail, please. I’ll wait.”

I huff and look at the sky.

Then I oblige. This dream has stuck with me strongly since that night. I remember it as if I lived it while awake. And I’ve described it before, but it’s worth reviewing it.

I dreamt that I was back in school, college specifically, and it was one of those naked dreams. I spent about half the day interacting with professors and classmates before I really noticed, and I was in just my tighty whities, which is better than being completely naked, but not by much. What I hated more, in the dream as in real life, was my hairy chest and arms, the stubble of my beard, and the obvious bulge in my underwear. These were things that had been plaguing me since puberty, but I never felt like I could do anything about them. If I’d been willing to upend my whole life by admitting that I was a trans woman, which I absolutely never wanted to be (thank you internalized transmisogyny), I wouldn’t have been able to afford transition anyway.

Of course, with the Affordable Care Act, Washington State made it so that Medicaid and Medicare would cover transitional healthcare, including surgery if I’d wanted it. But, for some reason, I just couldn’t bring myself to come out. Not even after I’d lost the last attempt at a job I’d ever had, and settled into the Magnolia apartments friendless and hopeless and exhausted beyond belief. I didn’t have anything to lose anymore, but I couldn’t see how embarrassing myself by publicly transitioning would make my life any better. I was doing everything I needed by living as a woman online, I thought.

That history followed me into my dream, of course. And it colored everything and made me feel even worse and more desperate. I couldn’t believe I was back in school when I had such severe chronic fatigue, and I couldn’t even answer emails or voice messages anymore due to my C-PTSD.

And then, in the dream, one of my classmates, someone I’d made the mistake of considering a friend at the time, asked me why I’d decided not to wear any clothes.

And I turned to him and said, “Because dragons don’t need clothes.”

And then I ripped off my human disguise and woke up.

I simplify this considerably for Ptarmigan, condensing my personal history down to, “I’m trans. Was male in dream. Am female.”

She nods, and scratches at the stubble on her chin.

“Yeah, that shit sucks,” she says. “I’ve dealt with my own dysphoria in some terrible ways. I wish I could have done what you did.”

“You are Artist. You incarnate. Don’t you choose?” I ask.

“I’m not the Poet,” she says. “Sometimes I use words badly. But also, my existence is contradictory. I suspect yours is, too, if you look close or deep enough.”

“Explain.” I’ve decided I’m not putting up with any more vague bullshit from Artists. “Make me understand.”

“Yeah,” she says. Then she walks over to the southern edge of the building and looks out over the sound. “Being trans is part of my nature when I live as a human. I can’t stop from being it. All Artists are queer or neurodivergent or deviant in some way. This is one of my ways. It comes with the Art. In my case, I’ll choose one sex or another, and end up being a different gender from it. Kids these days would say that my sex is defined by my gender, and I like that. But I can’t explain what happens to me with those words because I’m not exactly born. So I’m not assigned the wrong sex at birth.” She looks back at me. “I choose, but then my choice is taken from me, by my own nature. But it’s even more absurd to me, because the whole gender thing as it is today is a construct of white supremacy. It should be irrelevant.”

That last comment seems like a confirmation to me that she’s Indigenous. But I don’t really know. The right thing to do is wait for her to share that information directly. And, she’s an Artist, not a human. Ethnicity may be irrelevant to her, too. There are more important things to consider at the moment.

“What’s your Art?” I ask.

She grins for the first time I’ve seen yet. It’s an awkward thing, full of ruefulness and stilted self consciousness, but her eyes twinkle.

“Nightmares,” she says.

I think about that for a moment, and she lets me, so I ask, “Did you cause mine?”

“No, I don’t cause nightmares,” she says. “Well. Not all nightmares. I navigate them. I find them. I dig into them. I pull them apart. And I learn from them. Or try. The world is full of so many of them, I’ll never read them all. Ever. But, similar to how Chapman’s Art works, it also turns out to be a pretty good way for making divinations. Which is how I found you.”

“What’s Chapman’s Art?”

“Physics,” she replies. “Sie is the Physicist. I’m the Nightmarist. And I’m trying to figure out what you are.”

“What if not Artist?” I ask.

“Then I’m thinking you’re something even more interesting, and I think you’ll want to know that as much as I do,” she says. “Your dream is definitely a big huge clue, too.”

“What is Säure?”

“A billionaire and an asshole who hides behind his carbon offset credits and social clout,” Ptarmigan says. “But I haven’t really taken a good look at him yet. I don’t know more than that. We’re going to have to find out. Chances are pretty good he’s just human, though. Most people are.”

“Yes,” I agree.

“Humans aren’t to be underestimated, though. They make tempting playthings for us Artists. And probably look tasty to you dragons sometimes. But they collectively control everything right now. And their short lives make some of them really bloody minded and rash.”

I don’t say anything to that. I’m not sure what to make of it. I agree with a lot of the words, but the sentiments are weird to me. A little off.

When it comes to my humans, at least, I just can’t bring myself to be that cynical.

“OK,” she says. “I think I want you to try daydreaming first. That will probably be the easiest test. I expect nothing from it, except maybe to be able to do a divination off of it if you daydream the right thing. But it’s the least amount of effort right off the bat. Are you up for it?”

“What about?” I ask.

“If my hypothesis that you’re the Artist of Transformations, or something like that, is correct, then that’s what you should daydream about. Try to recreate something like that dream you had, but while you’re awake.” She nods. “The next step is to put you to sleep and have you dream a nightmare like that for real, but that’s more invasive and more work. I’d rather not do it. Maybe if I learn the right things from this, we can try something else.”

“Okay,” I say, and then start pacing around the roof, looking at things, and thinking about what I should daydream about. What kind of transformation I should envision. And maybe what kind of nightmare scenario that transformation would solve.

Well, I’ve got a ready made scenario, at least. Säure’s next attack.

And my immediate emotional response is that I want to be bigger and tougher and able to withstand bullets. And to breathe fire indefinitely.

So, sure. I sit on my haunches near where Ptarmigan is standing and daydream about what that battle would be like. And about what it would be like to change my body into that greater draconic form.

While I do this, Ptarmigan pulls out a tiny sketchbook and a pen and starts scribbling in it while occasionally looking up at me. She sits down cross legged beside me after a few moments, and really gets lost in her work, flipping pages to work on new ones when the old one becomes too full of ink. And as she’s doing this, I feel a constant soft hum in the fabric of reality that has a harmonic in one of my nerves, like a slowed down and quieter version of the shift I get from Chapman when sie uses hir art.

In my mind, I’m taking to the sky and flying so high that it’s almost like I’m in orbit. And I’m so big and so impervious to everything that I can’t help but imagine that as being a form of intangible existence, like a spirit or a celestial being of some sort. A dragon made of starlight and lightning.

Bullets of any caliber are useless and helicopters go down in flames.

“Yeah. No. That would have been too easy,” the Artist of Nightmares says.

I break my revery and look over at my tablet before walking to it and tapping the screen for a bit, “Not work?”

“Oh, I read you just fine. You’re just not the Artist of Transformation,” she reports. “From what I can see, you’re just a dragon. It’s bewildering, frankly.”

“Told you,” I say.

“Sure,” she says. “Good solid nightmare visions, though. Thank you.”

I don’t have anything else to say to her at the moment. I’m once again at a loss myself. But, as I watch her, her eyes narrow.

“What?” I ask.

“Yeah, I’m definitely not done with you,” she says.

Whatever, I think to myself. At least I’ve made some personal psychological progress today. I now have something I can reliably daydream about when I want to relax.

“Done today,” I say. “Please go.”

“Sure,” she says again. “I need to think about this, anyway. Thank you for working with me.”

“Okay,” I say.

“Take care,” she says, then wanders over to where the fire escape is and lowers herself onto it carefully and disappears down the stairs.

I huff and look out over the water again. I have some more thinking to do of my own.

[ms-m-astrologer]

Transiting Vesta enters Virgo

Saturday, August 24 - Sunday, October 27, 2024

Caveat: this may not have a personal impact on you unless Vesta is prominent in your birth chart (closely in aspect to the Sun, the Moon, &/or an angle).

Transiting Vesta gives us the ability to focus on something. She’s pretty happy to be in Virgo, where she can work hard on perfecting situations.

Personal integration - literally getting our acts together; becoming better at being ourselves

Devotional/Religious activities - Vesta here doesn’t only pray, she actively does things to live her faith.

Scholastic interests - might be something useful, like how to grow better tomatoes, or quirky, like Goliard poetry.

One’s work or path of service - more of an emphasis on the work piece, with tangible evidence, as opposed to lip service.

Most of the planets’ 2024 transits through mutable signs are difficult. New problems cropping up all the time, challenging us to come up with (through Virgo) new and improved solutions. If we do our best, the final aspects Vesta makes will nudge us toward a better alignment with The Cosmos.

Sunday, August 25 - Vesta/Virgo inconjunct Pluto Rx/Aquarius, 0°08’. Adjustment time. It can have a very coldly clinical feel; we don’t feel like we’re a part of life.

Sunday, September 1 - Vesta/Virgo semi-sextile Venus/Libra, 3°30’. Potentially pleasant. If we’re artistically inclined this can make for a good practice session.

Tuesday, September 10 - Wednesday, September 11:

Vesta/Virgo inconjumct North Node/Aries, semi-sextile South Node/Libra, 7°29’

Vesta/Virgo (7°40’) sesquiquad Chiron Rx/Aries (22°40’)

Vesta/Virgo trine Ceres/Capricorn, 8°14’

The trine between Vesta and Ceres makes us very domestic and focused on our homes and families. The inconjunct and sesquiquad remind us to take other family members into consideration, too - we can’t just assume everyone will fall into line behind us.

Sunday, September 15:

Vesta/Virgo conjunct Mercury/Virgo, 10°13’

Vesta/Virgo (10°14’) sesquiquad Eris Rx/Aries (25°14)

Vesta conjunct Mercury heralds a new scholastic interest - with a bent toward sharing knowledge. Eris reminds us to take baby steps! We crawl before we sprint.

Saturday, September 21 - Vesta/Virgo (13°00’) semi-square Venus/Libra (28°00’). Prickly dissatisfaction. We might get pissed at our artistic endeavors, or pissed about a partner’s nagging. It’s temporary!

Wednesday, September 25 - Vesta/Virgo opposite Saturn Rx/Pisces, 14°46’. Too much commitment to others at our own expense - or avoiding responsibility altogether. It’s an opposition, so it comes out in relationships and in having to make a choice.

Sunday, October 6 - Vesta/Virgo semi-sextile Juno/Libra, 20°06’. Committed relationships - some of us are thinking about getting very serious.

Tuesday, October 8 - Wednesday, October 9:

Vesta/Virgo semi-sextile Mercury/Libra, 21°02’

Vesta/Virgo square Jupiter/Gemini, 21°20’

Vesta/Virgo inconjunct Chiron Rx/Aries, 21°28’

Ugh. No amount of sweet-talking is going to help with this. We get preachy about our beliefs; we over-commit and end up much the worse for it. Pay attention to health.

Friday, October 11 - Vesta/Virgo sextile Venus/Scorpio, 22°39’. Finally, something nice! We can make great progress with artistic projects, almost like we’re rededicated to them. Can also indicate sexy times in relationships.

Wednesday, October 16 - Saturday, October 26:

Vesta/Virgo inconjunct Eris Rx/Aries, 24°57’

Vesta/Virgo semi-sextile Sun/Libra, 26°05’

Vesta/Virgo trine Uranus Rx/Taurus, 26°22’

Vesta/Virgo (27°24’) semi-square Mercury/Scorpio (12°24’)

Vesta/Virgo opposite Neptune Rx/Pisces, 27°42’

Vesta/Virgo trine Pluto/Capricorn, 29°42

These aspect all overlap to some extent, running into one another. The main picture is a “kite” planetary pattern: a grand Earth trine (Vesta-Uranus-Pluto) with a fourth entity (Neptune) opposing one planet and sextile the other two. We can make all kinds of powerfully innovative changes, if we can stay on-task. We can’t let our egos get in the way, and we need to be careful about what we say and how we listen.

[she-karev]

The Pregnant Resident (Andrew DeLuca x Alex Karev’s Sister Imagine)

Previous Chapter Here

Age Rating: 12+

Chapters: Two of Four

Fandom: Grey’s Anatomy

Ship: Andrew DeLuca x Amber Karev (Alex Karev’s Sister)

Canon Episode: Season 19 Episode 2

AN: Happy Fourth of July guys! I hope you have a good day and enjoy this chapter. The final two chapters will be posted tomorrow and Saturday.

Warning: Some smut in the end.

Summary: Amber works at the pit where she finds it difficult to do her job while pregnant but persists and gets annoyed by Yasuda who was sent to help her at Alex’s request. At lunch she and Andrew go to the on-call room to have a moment alone.

Words: 3118

September 12th, 2022

Amber moves her feet around as she stands due to how swollen they are but focuses on the patient in the bed with a bandaged ankle. She examined the injury and is about to diagnose it to the young lady.

“Okay the ultrasound shows no broken bones so it’s your standard sprained ankle.” Amber groans a bit putting her hand against her own back as it flares up.

The woman looks at her concerned, “Are you okay? You look ready to have a baby right here.”

Amber nods, “Yeah, I’m fine. Already your just gonna ice it for the next 12 hours, be on bed rest for the next week and take ibuprofen for the pain, I’ll write you a prescription and send it to the pharmacy of your choosing.”

Amber pulls her pen out of her front pocket, but it falls with a clatter to the floor beside the bed. The youngest Karev sighs knowing the task ahead of her and how much she hates it. She bends down to reach for the pen, but her giant belly makes it impossible for her to reach. The patient looks on not knowing what to do since her ankle is sprained. Amber stands back up with a sigh.

“Forget it the pen lives there now.”

“I got it.” Alex Karev bends down with ease and picks up the pen handing it to Amber who quickly writes the prescription, hands it to the patient and walks away with her brother next to her.

“You know that is exactly why I carry at least 10 pens with me, show off.”

Alex chuckles leaning against the nurse’s station with Amber who updates the chart, “Most people would say thank you.”

“When have I ever striked you as ‘most people’?”

“Never.”

“Exactly and what are you doing here? I don’t remember calling a peds consult.” Amber’s mind jumps to a theory, “Did my husband send you down here to spy on me?”  

“I wouldn’t dream of getting in the middle of a fight between you two.” Alex states flatly, “Altman has me here to observe Hunt while he does procedures.”

“I thought you had three surgeries for today?”

Alex groans, “I do but apparently watching Hunt while he suffers and Teddy smiling at it takes precedence. It’s either me or having the patients complain about the happy couple fighting again.”

“Lucky you.” Amber says sarcastically.

“Yeah, tell me about it.” Alex sees Amber stretch her neck clearly tired and in pain, “There’s this thing called maternity leave, you should look into it.”

Amber rolls her eyes, “There’s too many patients and not enough residents, I’ll take my leave in a couple of weeks.”

Alex nods but is still concerned for her, “Are you sure your okay?”

“I have to pee every five minutes; my breasts feel like their gonna explode with one poke and the baby only sleeps when her daddy reads one of my thrillers to her.” Amber coldly states before smiling and flipping her hair back like a model, “But I am glowing right?”

Alex grins, “Radiant. I’ll come back to check on you later.”

“Please don’t.” Amber orders before her brother leaves to observe Hunt.

Alex knocks outside the door of the exam room and sees Owen Hunt and Mika Yasuda helping a man on the bed while Teddy Altman is observing.

“Hey, I thought I was gonna observe him?”

“I’ll take you over Dr. Altman if that’s an option.” Owen bitterly states, causing Teddy to glare at him.

“Do I need to remind you why I'm here, Dr. Hunt?” Alex and Mika look uncomfortable from the ensuing fight.

Owen retorts back as he preps the ultrasound, “Well, it's been about 10 minutes since the last time, so, sure, knock yourself out.”

The patient Harold looks at all of them confused, “Are you all doctors?”

Owen addresses his wife, “Teddy, this is just an ultrasound.”

“So then it should go quick.” Teddy approaches the patient and his wife, “Hi, I'm Dr. Altman.”

Mika answers Harold’s question, “Yes, we are all doctors.”

“And you're all necessary?” He asks causing Alex to speak up.

“I’m not I gotta get back to the peds floor.”

“Sorry my wife wasted your time.” Owen says obviously to insult Teddy causing Alex to walk out of the room quickly.

Mika rushes to Alex after excusing herself from observing Dr. Hunt who is treating a patient while Altman observes and belittles him. She had enough of it as she looked for a way out and saw it when Alex walked in.

“Dr. Karev?”

Alex stops and looks at the young intern, “What is it Yasuda? Make it quick.”

“I can't work for Dr. Hunt because it means you're also working for Dr. Altman, which means you're working for velociraptors.” Mika elaborates to Alex’s annoyance, “They're vicious, can snap in an instant, but there is a mind-game component going on between those two that is so deep, it might destroy all of civilization.”

“You call that quick?”

“Can I be on your service instead of Dr. Hunt’s?” Mika pleads.

“No, I already have a resident.” Alex turns to leave when an idea goes off in his head that might be good for his sister who is clearly suffering in silence. He turns back to Yasuda, “You can’t be on my service, but you can be on my sisters, Amber DeLuca.” The intern looks hopeful, “You’ll be by her side and help her lessen her load by taking half her patients and going to her if you have questions.”

Mika sighs in relief, “Thank you so much sir.”

Alex presses his lips together knowing his sister too well, “Don’t thank me yet Yasuda. Go to the pit I’m sure the Hunt’s won’t notice if you’re missing.”

Yasuda runs straight to the pit where she finds Amber sitting behind the station working on charts on the desktop. She hurriedly approaches the pregnant resident already looking forward to working with her instead of Owen Hunt.

“Hi Dr. DeLuca, I’m Mika Yasuda the new intern here.”

“I know who you are.” Amber tells her blankly from her spot not bothering to look up, “What do you want? I’m busy in case you haven’t noticed.”

“I’ve been reassigned to your service.” Amber looks up with narrow eyes that intimidate Yasuda who clears her throat, “Your brother told me to help you in case you were struggling. Which I don’t think you are you seem very competent even at your state. Not that pregnant women are weak I think all pregnant women are strong and protective and glowing and-”

“Stop.” Amber orders and Mika closes her mouth obeying, “If I give you an assignment will you stop this rambling that is grossing out my baby?”

“Yes ma’am, I mean doctor.”

“Fine.” Amber holds up the almost empty Tum’s bottle, “I bought this on my way to work this morning, I need you to get me more antacids, so my chest doesn’t feel like it’s on fire and my stomach doesn’t feel so tied up.”

“I don’t think you’re supposed to take that many.” Amber glares at her causing Mika to gulp, “But what do I know? Antacids it is, anything else while I’m out?”

Amber thinks for a moment, “My lunch break is about to start, and the baby hates the cafeteria food. Go across the street to the Mexican food truck out front and get us chicken tacos, beef tacos and three meat tacos with lots of onions on the side.”

Mika looks alarmed, “I don’t think street meat is gonna help with the indigestion.”

Amber clasps her hands together and gives Yasuda a look that makes her take back her words, “Lots of onions got it.”

Yasude moves to exit the pit as Amber yells out, “And a ginger ale!”

“Got it!” Amber exhales content in her chair and sees a nurse giving her a look that pisses the pregnant woman off.

“What?” The nurse looks away when being called out, “Yeah that’s right lady no fetus, no opinion.”

Lunch

Andrew watches in shock as his wife chugs her ginger ale with a plate that once had three tacos empty after just five minutes of them sitting down. Amber soundly gulps her drink not noticing Andrew’s face in their two-person table in the corner of the cafeteria. After finishing the soda Amber loudly exhales content and full.

She sees the wide eyes on Andrew’s face, “What?”

“You just devoured an entire plate of tacos in less than five minutes. I don’t if I should be impressed or scared.”

“Hey when your baby wants street meat she demands street meat.” Amber reaches over and picks out a French fry from Andrew’s tray and eats it, “At least there’s one good side to having an overbearing brother who assigns an intern just to babysit you. Maybe I can get Yasuda to set up the nursery next.”

Andrew grins amused, “How’s the new job going?”

“Oh, so good I’ve already got them peeing in their scrubs.”

“I bet. How’s the baby?”

Amber sighs rubbing her pregnant belly, “She’s fine, she’s having a great nap while I treat patients who are more concerned about me going into labor in front of them than being treated for their injuries.”

“Can you blame them? The scrubs don’t exactly hide it.”

Amber grins at that, “So I heard that one of the college roommates are patient zero for an unknown illness. Are you working that case?”

“Yeah, I’m trying to go over similar cases over the years and sent Dr. Riley a list of the symptoms and pictures while the interns get deep into the books. I mean I have seen strange things in this hospital but septic shock due to bad rice is something new.”

“It makes me wish I was assigned to the OR instead.” Amber wipes her mouth with a napkin before deciding to change the subject, “Okay let’s get to the on-call room while we’re still on our break so we can have sex.”

Andrew is taken back by the sudden change and looks at Amber with wide eyes, “Where did that come from? I’m not complaining but that was a lightning-fast change from how you were five seconds ago.”

Amber shrugs, “The stupid hormones change my mood by the minute. One minute I’m hungry and the next I’m horny, it’s best to just ride it out before it passes.” Amber stands up, “You coming?”

Andrew eagerly nods, “Yeah absolutely yes.”

Amber walks away as Andrew takes a big bite of his sandwich before following her to the nearest on-call room where she shuts the door before turning to her husband and pulling him in for a kiss. Andrew holds Amber’s hips as he kisses her while her gorging belly stands between them, but it doesn’t stop them from going at each other like animals in heat.

Andrew moans against Amber’s mouth as her hands snake under his scrub top grazing his torso, “God I love the stupid hormones.”

Amber pulls back with a smile, “That makes one of us.” Amber resumes kissing him before taking his scrub top off exposing his rippled physique to her that she explores with her hands while kissing him deeply. She then pushes him to lie back in the single bed where he smiles in lust as she climbs up on top of him.

Andrew handles her very carefully holding her hips as she kisses him while straddling him. Their tongues overlap each other while Amber’s hands travel from his face to his neck and gradually trail down his torso causing him to moan at her gentle hands brushing against his skin. She finally reaches his bottoms ready to untie them when a knock on the door causing them to groan at the interruption and break apart.

Mika Yasuda’s voice is heard outside the door, “Dr. DeLuca I need you to come with me so you can observe Dr. Hunt while he diagnoses Mr. Peters while I observe him diagnosing him. Can you come out?”

Amber frowns at the annoying intern and faces her husband who looks pained by the bad timing, “Ignore her, she’ll go away.” Amber whispers to him.

“I was thinking the same thing.” Andrew whispers back before pulling her back toward him to kiss her and moans more softly as she unties his scrub bottom waist string. He is about to help her take them off when another knock interrupts them and another voice is heard.

“DeLuca, I know you’re in there Yasuda saw you go in two minutes ago.” The couple register it as Owen Hunt who sounds annoyed, “I hate to do this to you, but I need someone aside from my wife to interfere in my work and you annoy me less so come on out!”

“I am gonna kill him!” Amber says frustrated before getting off him so she can handle the intrusions.

Andrew tries to call her off to no avail, “No Amber wait.”

Amber ignores him and opens the door wide open causing Hunt and Yasuda to look on in shock at who answered the door and DeLuca on the bed shirtless sitting up on his elbows clearly embarrassed.

Amber ignores the stares and gets to the point, “No Hunt, Dr. DeLuca cannot observe you while you do subpar procedures because he is busy trying to give his pregnant wife an orgasm. So go find Altman, suck it up and stop bothering us or your gonna have another angry blonde to deal with during work, got it?!” She slams the door in their faces before they even answer, and she turns to face her husband who looks at her frightened and slightly turned on.

Amber exhales before calming down and asking her husband, “Where were we?”

Andrew pops his mouth, “I think you were about to take off my pants.”

“Right thanks for the reminder.” Amber resumes kissing her husband as she straddles him while he gently holds her above him.

Thirty Minutes Later

Simone Griffith stands outside the on-call room waiting for the door to open so she can use the room to sleep. She rolls her eyes at the couple in there who are clearly using the room for private time evident by the male and female moans coming from the other side as well as the thumping.

Lucas Adams and Benson Kwan walk up to her also looking for some rest but the sight of her outside makes Blue groan.

“Don’t tell me.”

“It’s locked.” Simone answers.

Lucas looks up at the ceiling, “Well are they sleeping or…?” The sounds of Amber and Andrew moaning inside answer his question, “Do people ever just sleep in there?”

“After maybe.” Simone sighs.

“Who’s in there anyway?” Kwan asks.

“The DeLuca’s.” Kwan looks confused causing Simone to explain, “The pregnant Dr. DeLuca is married to guy Dr. DeLuca.”

Kwan looks perplexed at another married couple in the hospital, “I know we don’t have lives outside this hospital but so far I’m wondering if there’s a wedding chapel for the doctors here based on how many of them are married to each other.”

“And how many rooms they occupy.” Simone bitterly says before giving up, “Forget it the chair inside the supply closet is comfortable. Let’s go before she catches us and makes us do scut until she gives birth.” The three of them walk away from the outside of the door.

Later

Amber stretches her neck in satisfaction as she sits up under the covers in her black tank top while Andrew jumps off the bed in his underwear and pulls up his navy scrub bottoms. Despite their recent powwow both spouses are ready to head back to work.

Andrew smiles at his good fortune today as he pulls up his pants, “Have I mentioned how much I love the hormones?”

Amber grabs her scrub top from the floor still sitting on the single bed, “You mentioned it and I secretly lashed out at you for it because you’re not the one growing a person inside your body and feeling more disgusting by the minute.”

Andrew grins at that, “You look beautiful. We wouldn’t have done what we just did if I didn’t find you as sexy as I did six months ago.”

“Six months ago, I could still see my feet.” Amber reminds him as she puts her top on and grabs her bottoms from the bed while her husband sits next to her holding his scrub top. He looks at her concerned knowing despite her bravado she’s tired.

“You know I can get Qadri to take over the pit while you rest. I’m sure you need it after the marathon we just did.”

Amber pulls her bottom on and raises an eyebrow at her overbearing husband, “You’re not looking to rest either.”

“Yes, but I’m the only one in this room who can see my feet.” Andrew teases causing Amber to playfully smack his arm, “Seriously I’m sure Qadri and Parker wouldn’t mind giving you a few hours to nod off. It’s the perk of you being the chief resident.”

Amber pulls out a beef jerky stick from her bottoms and chomps off a piece chewing as she speaks, “Being the chief resident means you never take a break unless you want your interns to kill people and you get blamed for it. And with this class the odds of them causing an accidental overdose while I look away for five seconds are alarmingly high. You wouldn’t understand because you had me as a resident when you were the chief, and I was practically a god send.”

Andrew grins at that, “Well aside from you I had not so god sent residents to look after. It took everything in me not to drown myself in the paperwork or be sent to jail for murdering Schmitt.”

Amber slowly gets off the bed and stands up with a groan, “And now the baton has been passed down to me I gotta get back to the pit before Hunt and Altman use the patients as human shields for their next fight. And don’t worry I have Yasuda to help until she pisses me off and I send her home crying.”

Andrew sighs putting his top on as he stands in front of Amber, “Promise me you will call a resident to take over once you feel like passing out. Please.”

“I will now I have to go; I’ll see you at the pit.” Amber kisses her husband before waddling out of the room while her husband watches her in worry as she closes the door behind her.

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