#heme/onc

[blur0se]

Making headcanons that would require an entire college class to explain

[mcatmemoranda]

Claritin can work for oncologic bone pain.

[humofnight]

I have got to get better about breakfast I nearly tanked my blood sugar (I assume) in clinic again this morning lol

[safination]

Partners in Death...and Life

Part 8: The Calm Before the Fall

|Part 7: Me and You In Eternity| |Part 9: The Vows That Bind Me [Finale]| |Masterlist| Ao3| Taglist| Series Summary: After a seven-year absence, you find the man you were married to in life, not only back in town, but also helping... *checks notes*... the Princess of Hell run a hotel aimed at rehabilitating sinners who were sent to the bad place for a reason. Pairings: Alastor x wife!Reader Tags: fem!Reader, AFAB, Established Relationship, Asexual! Alastor, Alastor is in hell for a reason, Reader is in hell for a reason, dishes, being a simp for your partner, Asexual! Alastor, husband! Alastor. demon!Alastor School is killing me. I have like an exam tomorrow that I should be prepping for. Somehow, this was more important

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

Morning of The Extermination

The bustling of preparation echoes around the hotel, crowding the once empty halls. There’s a cannibal fortifying some stray windows. Every bang of her hammer rings your ears. Boxes are being dropped and discarded all around you.

The bomb thrown from Angel Dust’s friend doesn’t help soothe the pain in your ears, nor does his gunfire. They’ve been practicing some ‘special takedown moves’ since the crack of dawn. It was the same routine yesterday, and the day before that as well. It’s a small consolation that they’re practicing outside, muffled by the hotel walls.

Another booming explosion makes you wince, and it jostles some feathers right out your scalp. With a sigh, you pocket the strays.

Lys and Heme startle, bumping into each other as they follow behind. Lys glances around, taking a step closer to the group. Heme doesn’t seem too bothered by the sound. Their eyes filter around the tacky décor of the hotel.

Heme leans closer to you, whispering. “At least there isn’t much pink here.”

You snicker into your shoulder, and wave Charlie and Vaggie over when they round the corner. Charlie grabs Vaggie’s hand, dragging her closer.

“Come meet my interns,” you say and gesture to Lys and Heme. “They’ve agreed to participate in today’s extermination. There’s quite a number of cannibals fighting, so I thought I would call for some assistance.”

“That makes sense,” Vaggie nods, shaking their hands with a firm handshake. “It’s nice to meet you.”

Charlie smoothens the skirt of her dress, waving at them. “You guys all work together?”

“I was a paramedic back up top,” Heme says, waving back at Charlie. “Your cannibals will be in good hands.”

“And I was an ER nurse!” Lys gives them a thumbs up. “I never expected to become a doctor here in hell. The tuition fees are so much cheaper. I thought the fees would be ridiculously impossible to afford, but it’s practically free! A bit surprising since we are in hell—probably some kind of off-brand humor.”

“Neither did I,” you say, humming. 

Alastor insisted on paying for your education. It’s one of the very rare times when he refused to accept a ‘no’ from you. The tuition fees were being paid by him, and that was final. It’s good that the tuition fees barely dented his fortune, considering Alastor didn’t bother checking how much money exited his pocket every term.

“Shall we do names?” Charlie smiles at them. “This is Vaggie and I’m—"

“Charlie Morningstar,” Lys finishes for her. “I saw you on the TV.”

“From the commercial, hopefully.”

“From the news with Katie Killjoy,” Lys says. “You put up quite the entertaining display.”

Charlie laughs awkwardly.

You clear your throat a little. “This is Heme, and that’s Lys but we call her K sometimes.”

“You could also just go AAA as well.” Heme snorts into the air. “I certainly do when I see her in the morning. Her hair just puffs up like some kind of eldritch horror.”

“Absolutely not!” Lys elbows them. “K or Lys will do.”

“I really hope that isn’t your actual government name.”

Lys rolls her eyes, huffing. “And why would it be?”

“So…,” Heme begins, cringing a bit. “You willingly choose that name?”

“As if ‘Heme’ is any better.”

Another loud explosion jostles more feathers right off your scalp. Those go into your pocket as well. If Angel Dust and his friend survive the extermination, you will shove a bomb down their throat and smile as their blood streaks the fucking pink of your office walls.

You place a hand on Lys’ shoulders. “Yes, yes, you are both raging nerds—we get it,” you say, swatting your hand in the air. “Now be polite and say hello to Charlie and Vaggie.”

Lys and Heme both say their hellos.

Vaggie tilts her head, and some strands of her hair shift to her eyes. Charlie brushes some strands away. “K?” Vaggie echoes. “How do you get K from Lys?”

You smile at Vaggie. “If you don’t know why, then you don’t know why.”

“Well, either way, I’m so glad you’re willing to help.” Charlie’s eyes shine as she rocks on the balls of her fist. “I really appreciate how willing you are about helping out.”

Heme raises their hands in surrender. “Don’t thank us just yet.”

Lys shakes her head, rolling her eyes. “What Heme means to say is that we were offered extra points to be here.”

“It’s going to be dangerous,” Vaggie tells them, placing a hand on her hip. “Are you sure you want to be here? I mean…for extra points…?”

Lys laughs.

Heme laughs.

You laugh.

Lys grabs Vaggie by the shoulder, clutching it as she bores her eyes into Vaggie, pulling her closer. “I would do anything for extra points.”

Charlie’s smile stiffens as she peels Lys' fingers off Vaggie. She takes Vaggie’s hand pulling her closer, and turns to Lys with a smile that shows off her teeth. “I wish you luck, then.”

Somehow, you doubt if Charlie actually means that. Vaggie doesn’t seem to notice as her smile becomes a bit dopey.

Heme brings out their arm to separate Lys from Charlie, showing off their own smile. “We really appreciate that,” they say. “Thank you, your highness.”

Charlie places a hand on her chest, bringing out her hand to offer Lys a handshake. Heme takes it for her, smiling with a gentleness that would be foolish to believe. Alastor would love to witness such a sight. It seems he has trained the princess well, but your own pupil isn’t keen on losing either.

“We shouldn’t take too much of your time. I’ll let you guys go back to work,” you say, clearing your throat. “I’ll be here preparing the station inside the hotel. Lys and Heme will be smoothening the secondary site. If you need anything, we’ll be around.”

The group disperses and so does the tension. Vaggie pulls Charlie by the hand, and the filter off. She has to use the tips of her toes to steal a kiss from Charlie. Goodness! Not even you and Alastor are so unrefined to show off such cheesy displays. (Right…Right?)

You pick up a small crate of vials, hauling it off to its appropriate shelf. It’s quite heavy. Everything needs to be organized. It’s going to be chaotic once the extermination begins. Things need to be in order for quick and easy access.

The shadows below you flicker for a second. Alastor slithers out of your shadow. He doesn’t need to specifically slither out of your shadow. It could be any other shadow, but for some reason, Alastor chooses to pop out under yours anyway.

Alastor snatches the crate from you, inching ever so closer. “We wouldn’t want you breaking such a brittle back, would we?”

You roll your eyes, bumping your shoulder. The vials in the crate clink. “Thank you for bringing me here, Al,” you say. “I like this place. It’s a shame that I’ll have to leave soon.”

Alastor slots the crate when you point to the empty slot on the shelf. He summons his microphone with an annoying type of flare, using it to lean closer. “I doubt you actually think that.”

“It’s only because of the trees in your room.”

Alastor gives you a pointed look.

“Don’t look at me like that. It’s your room until the trees are present,” you say, crossing your arms as you lean on the shelf. “I feel like there are animals that watch me sleep at night.”

Another loud boom has you jostling into the shelf behind you. It ruffles the feather right off your scalp. Alastor inches closer, placing a hand on your ears to muffle yet another boom.

“If you step inside, and actually take a look, then there would be no reason to be frightened,” Alastor tells you, presenting the fallen feathers with a smile that shows off the yellow in his teeth. “It’s quite a nice place for a picnic. You would know that if you got over such ridiculousness, and allow me to take you.”

“Are you going to watch television with me?”

Alastor squints at you with annoyance but still, he places his hands on your ears to muffle another boom. “Absolutely not.”

You show Alastor the most innocent smile you can produce. “Then I’m not bringing a single feather into your forest that’s in your room. Although…I am eager to go to our home where there are no trees.”

Alastor shakes his head at you.

The halls are strangely silent. If you strain your hearing, the cluster of Sinners loitering outside catch your ears. How lovely. It seems the bomb assault on your ears have ceased as well.

Alastor leans forward until his bowtie reaches your vision. It’s crooked. You reach out for it, straightening it for him. The pads of your fingers smoothen the creases of his bowtie. Your hand trails down his chest until your fingers hook on his lapels, and adjust the fit of his coat. It’s all so solid.

He pushes his fingers on your cheek to force a smile. “What’s on your mind that’s got you frowning so deeply?”

“There’s much to frown about. I’m worried about you, deerest.” You fix his bowtie once more. It’s already straightened. “Scared, if I’m to be honest, and confused as to why you would volunteer to fight Adam alone.”

“Would you join me then?”

“I would.”

Alastor’s claws dig into the wood until a portion snaps away. “Don’t you dare.”

He pushes your cheeks once more, and doesn’t stop until you show him a smile. A reward comes in the form of a cheek kiss. His lips linger on the skin of your cheek, nudging his nose closer.

“Either way, what an absolutely silly thought. This is nothing I can’t handle.”

“Silly and stupid, maybe,” you say, turning to the shelf behind to arrange a box of vials that’s already been re-arranged. “Even if it makes me a fool, I am… unfortunately …a fool who happens to be serious. A silly, silly, foolish wife.”

“I only said it was a silly thought. There’s nothing foolish about you.” Alastor places a hand on your head, patting some feather down. “I would leave if you asked me to.”

You lean into his touch, humming as you take in the truth that’s being presented to you. “And what would you do if I did ask?”

“I would take you.” Alastor’s smile softens for a moment. It’s in the way he hides his teeth, and how his smile reaches all the way up his cheeks.

“Just me?”

Alastor glances around before placing a kiss on the very edges of your lips. It causes you to bump into the shelf. A hand shoots out to press back whatever that threatened to tumble off the ledge. “Only you.”

“What else?” you say, playing with the tips of his fingers.

“We would go to our home, and I would sit on the piano, playing while you do your stitching.” Alastor traces the ring on your finger. “Later, the news will play from the radio and we’ll hear all about how the hotel toppled and everyone died.”

“Why—because you weren’t here?”

“It’s because you would be with me, eating breakfast,” Alastor says, smiling. “Then we’d have our coffee. In the evening, I would come home to you and this cycle would repeat beyond eternity.”

The pads of your thumb go up and down as you caress his face, accepting whatever truth Alastor displays for you to see. “But something tells me you can’t.”

“Yes…but I can’t,” Alastor affirms, placing a hand over your hand to nuzzle further into your palm.

“Just like you can’t tell me about whatever mess that caused you to disappear on me for several years,” you say, trying to show him a smile. It doesn’t work. “You could have at least taken me. I would have followed you to the edges of this world.”

Alastor closes his eyes and connects his forehead with yours. His lips open and close as if there are words he wants you to hear. Whatever they are, he doesn’t say them.

Did you make a mistake? The question roars through your mind. Are you saying too much? Are you displaying too much of your soul for him to see?

“My, most precious, Al,” you call out to him, forcing a light chuckle and a smile as you swat him playfully. “I think I would have even settled for a goodbye or some assurance that you were to return to me. Look at me now. Ha! Oh, how you have absolutely ruined me.”

Alastor summons his microphone. It lands with a harsh ‘thunk’ as he it to place a glaring distance between.

Oh…oh…

There’s a proud and dismissive smile on his lip—it almost hurts to see such a sight. He uses the microphone like a cane, leaning on it as he divides the space between you and him.

You reach out to touch him, trying to shorten the gap he’s forcing.

Alastor inches backwards, ever so slightly. It’s the smallest of movements, but it hits you with the gentleness of a crashing wave.

There’s nothing you can do to hide your frown. Once more, you turn your back to him, rearranging a perfectly organized set of glassware on the shelf. The glass clinks together as you move it. What did you say? Did you say too much?

Alastor studies you for a moment. His eyes flicker to you. Somehow, you’re able to give him a small and dismissive smile before turning away to rearrange another box. The cracks are beginning to show again. Not in front of him. Anywhere, but in front of Alastor.

He inches his own hand closer, tapping your fingers with the very tips of his nails.

Tap. Tap. Tap. Three taps in quick succession.

Once more, you reach out to touch him. Alastor meets you halfway, leaning into the hand that holds him. You swipe your thumb on his cheek.

“Will you trust me?” Alastor asks you.

“Not when you smile at me like this.” Both hands go to his cheek, smoothing his face with the pads of your thumb until there’s only a tightlipped smile. It’s better than whatever dismissive smile he thought to give you. “But you tell me—should I trust the Radio Demon?”

“It would be unwise to do such a thing,” Alastor tells you. “But you can trust me, and I need you to know that.”

The cheeky part of you wants to be annoying, and ask who ‘me’ is. There’s no need to question it, not when you already know. It’s the Alastor when you are with him and when he is with you.

“Why the sudden question?” you ask. “I trust you…I always know that I can trust you, deerest.”

Alastor takes both your hands, holding it in his. He presses his lips on your ring, kissing the smooth metal. “Because there is a difference,” he says. “There’s a reason why I will not explain myself to you. Not when it’s much safer if I don’t.”

He pulls you into a hug, clutching your head to press you deeper into his chest. Questions swirl around your mind but the way Alastor cradles your head, brushing your feathers ceases all questions and heeds into Alastor’s silent request. 

You snake your arm around his back, clutching the fabric of his coat to pull him tighter. Alastor leans his head on your shoulder, bending his back to fully curl into your arms.

Alastor pulls you closer to the shadows, shifting you so his back faces whatever Sinners that could walk in. He pulls you even closer, arching his back to press even closer.

You lean your cheek on his head, and the base of his ears flicker. “While the thought is deeply appreciated, I still don’t like it.”

“I never expected you to.” Alastor pulls away to pick a feather off your scalp.

There’s a box in your pocket. It would probably be safer to leave the thing in your room, but you couldn’t part with it. No…not that. Instead, you slip the ring off your finger. “I want you to keep this for me.”

Alastor’s smile wobbles, and his ears flicker for just a moment. “Ha! Is this your way of asking for divorce, dearest?”

You reach up and plant a kiss on the edge of his mouth. “As if I can ever bear to get rid of you, my love,” you say, taking his hand in yours. “It would be hazardous to wear it later, and I can’t have it falling out of my pocket. You’re the only one I trust to hold it for me.”

The ring slips into Alastor’s fingers easily. There are two rings on his finger now.

Alastor inches closer, and your back hits the shelf. “Is that all?”

You play with the edges of his fingers before intertwining your hand togethers. “I want to keep existing with you, deerest,” you say. “I want to keep doing the dishes for as long as you keep cooking for me—”

Alastor places a finger on your lips, hushing you into silence.

The feathers on your scalp bristles as he shushes you. Part of you wants to chomp off his finger for such an audacity.

“I don’t want to hear another word from you.”

Your lips twist as you take in his words. Once more, you look away and rearrange some syringes that have already been rearranged thrice.

“You speak as if I won’t return to you, and even when I do, I won’t.” Alastor presses a kiss on your forehead. “But I shall keep the ring for now if it proves to you that it will be returned. How ridiculous you are.”

“Is that a deal, my deerest, darling, husband?”

Alastor boops your nose. “What is the worth of a deal when we have our vows?”

“Then I will hold you to it,” you say. “Afterall, it would be troubling to have to find myself a third husband.”

Alastor raises his eyebrows, trapping you between the shelf and his body. “That implies you’ve already had a second.”

“Oh darling,” you say, placing a hand on his cheek. “You are the second.”

“Am I now?” he says, inching closer. “How come I’ve never heard of this supposedly first husband of yours?”

“He was the most handsome radio start!” you tell him, flaring your hands as you smile. “But I prefer you much better. What is five years compared to decades of existing with you?”

Alastor’s smile widens to show off his teeth. “I happened to enjoy those five years with my first wife.”

You laugh, and Alastor’s eyes flicker all over your face. “Those five years were everything to me.”

“You’re doing it again—speaking as if you’re trying to convince me to stay,” Alastor says, softly. “I will return to you.”

“And I trust that you will.”

“My, most, dearest, your eyes crinkle when you smile,” he tells you. “Have I…Have I ever mentioned that to you?”

You show him your widest smile. “Does it?”

“It always has.”

Everything will be alright. The extermination will pass, and soon you’ll have that ring returned to you.

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

The full force of the extermination shakes the building. Every boom shakes the walls. The chandelier jerks with every shoot of the canon. Angels fly above the glass ceiling, their swords raised with flared wings.

They’re ethereal.

What makes them fly? Birds have hollow bones to lighten their bodies for flight. Do angels have similar physiologies? Do their insides bleed the same way humans bleed? The things you would do to have their bodies splayed on your table, ready for your scalpel. And those wings…Alastor would love those wings.

You place a hand on your heated cheeks, sighing with delight.

What kind of smile would Alastor show if you presented angel wings to him? Would he be delighted with your gift? Part of you hopes he will. The base of their wings should cut off easily enough. They would look grand displayed out in the living-room of your home.

The shouting and clanks of steel jostle you out of your day-dream. Cannons mixing with the bombs and gunfire are downright excruciating.

The door slams open.

Someone barges in, clutching their arm. Their forearm is missing. The cannibal strides towards you, straddling what’s left of his arm. Blood drips down and pools on the carpeted floor. The bones that stick out are jagged, as if it’s been blown off rather than sliced.

You wave him over as Lys and Heme rush to your side, and ignore their own patients.

The cannibal takes a pensive sit on the cot, showing off what’s left of his arm. Strings of muscle and skin dangle from his elbow, revealing the long-jagged bone of his ulna. Holy energy corrupts the tissues of the skin and patches of his skin droop and fall off by the second.

Right then and there, you knew that there was no saving this arm.

If the holy magic isn’t removed from his body soon, then the death of his tissue would continue to creep up his arm, and corrode the healthy tissues that remains. That is if the blood loss alone isn’t going to take him first.

How absolutely lovely! This cannibal isn’t screaming.

“Oh…goodness,” you say, trying to fight off a smile. “This is the sixth one already, and it hasn’t even been an hour yet!”

Groaning and wailing echo around the hotel. Their desperate pleas for reprieve are ignored in favor of the cannibal with the corroding arm. Holy light consumes what’s left and burns his arm like acid. The cannibal’s face contorted with pain, biting the inside of his cheek to drown the scream.

“Deep breaths,” you tell him. “Once we remove the holy light, your body should heal right on his own. That’s quite lucky, right? Had you been human, I would have needed to clip some blood vessels and cut off your nerves.”

There’s a polite smile on Lys. “Do we remove the holiness?”

The blood on his arm pools on your gloves as you take it in your hold. “That would take too much time and resources, unfortunately.”

“Then…can we cut it off?” Lys asks, and her smile turns downright sinister.

You bite your lips, letting it quiver as you hold your smile. It doesn’t work. “I believe we can.”

The cannibal gulps as Lys and Heme crowd around him. Heme takes his intact arm, pinning it down to buckle the shackles around his wrist. They move on to his head. Lys makes quick work to chain his legs, and buckle his torso with the straps.

Heme takes a deep breath and sighs with bliss. “Shall I grab the morphine?”

“There’s no time,” you say, giving the cannibal a small and reassuring thumbs up. “If we wait, there will be nothing left to cut off...just a tourniquet, please.”

“Of course.”

You turn to the cannibal, pointing to your opened mouth for him to mimic. “Say, ‘Ahhhhhhh’. Can you do that for me? Ahhhh. Don’t worry, it’s just for your safety. Ahhhhh.”

The cannibal opens his mouth, obeying the request. A cloth gets shoved down his throat as Heme tightens the strap of the tourniquet.

“Hello there!” you say, smiling brightly as you lean down to meet his eyes. “Thank you for keeping silent so far. Try and keep it up! Don’t worry, I promise to be extra gentle.”

Lys hands you the bone saw. It’s surprisingly light as you take it from her. This saw is battery operated, and every bit automatic. One press of a button, and the saw revs, its sound reverberating around the busy room.

Modern technology is so useful! Back when you were alive, amputation was done using the strength of the person.

The cannibal begins to trash around to resist, but the straps hold him down too tightly. The saw goes through the tissues of his skin and muscles. He’s screaming now, his whole body taut as you press the saw deeper into him. The bone takes a second longer to cut through, but the force of the saw eventually wins over.

The cannibal passes out.

Lys inserts a morphine drop while Heme wraps his arm with bandages. They filter off right after, the thrill on the amputation obvious in their steps.

Someone barges into the room, cutting the line of Sinners waiting to be treated. It’s a female cannibal this time. She drags another cannibal in her arms, letting the legs drag limply on the floor. The weight of the body collapses her to the ground.

You walk up to her, placing a hand on her shoulders and kneel to meet her eyes. “Hello.”

“Please,” she chokes out, clutching the body tighter. The squish of blood squirts on your coat. How disgusting. “He…Help him.”

There’s a hole where his lungs should be. It’s as if someone punches a cavity straight into his chest. This Sinner is dead, and his entrails are slipping out this very moment.

“Do you know him?” You brush stray hair behind her ear. “Come on, now. Talk to me—Do you know him?”

“Y-yes,” she says, tears spilling from her eyes. “This is my husband.”

A stray tear drips down her cheek. You brush the next one away. “Are you hurt?”

“What does that have to do with him? I’m not here for me!” She clutches your coat, wrapping her fingers around the fabric.  “Please, you have to help. The princess said you were here to help. So, help him.”

The blood staining her palms transfers to the fabric of your coat. How revolting. You peel her fingers off.

“I’m going to have to ask you to leave,” you say with a bright smile. “You’re free to leave your husband in the deceased pile and pick up his body later. The next room is open if you can’t fight anymore. You could always pick up a stray weapon. Do whatever pleases you, but you can’t stay here.”

“…What?” Her teeth sharpen as cracks appear on her pearly white skin.

Interesting.

Had Rosie and Alastor not been on such friendly terms, you would have opened a cannibal’s insides a long time ago. It’s a shame the deceased pile will be used as food. Should you ask Alastor to negotiate a deal for one of their bodies?

Alastor … Alastor…Oh, how he would enjoy some angel wings.

“Toss her out.” You stand up and brush away the flakes of dried blood. “Tag the husband, then toss him on the pile. I wouldn’t want eyes to start appearing here. They’re rather creepy.”

You give the cannibal a small wave as inky shadow puppets drags her out the door, kicking and screaming.

Lys walks up to you, ignoring the growling wails around. There’s so much work to do—a break is taken when a break is found. “Wow,” she says, whistling. “That was harsh.”

Heme appears next. It seems they too tired of their patients. “It comes with the job.”

“Of course, I know it comes with the job. You don’t care for those you don’t care about.” Lys turns to you, smiling. “Hey doc, would you cry if we were here?”

“Probably from the loss of such amazing talent!” you tell them as if you would. Not a single tear would leave your eyes if they died. It would be deluded to think you would, but it’s quite a lovely fantasy. “I see you’ve been practicing—”

The glass ceiling shatters, and glass rains down.

You shield your eyes as Vaggie and some other angel crash to the ground on a dragon. It’s quite sad to see such a majestic creature go to waste. Should you preserve some of its bones after the extermination? Surely, Alastor would love some dragon bones…or perhaps its whole head.

Metal clinks as angelic steel crash against one another. Vaggie swipes her spear, but the angel dodges it easily.

This place is no longer safe.

“Evacuate the secondary site!” you exclaim. “Grab who you can, and…eh… just leave anyone who can’t stand on their own. Forget about the body pile. Just go!”

Heme nods and brushes stray glass out of Lys’ hair.

You grab your things, keeping an eye out as Vaggie and the angel exchange blows. Should you help her? Vaggie’s part of Alastor’s little pet project.... It’s not your fight and thus, not your problem. It seems you wouldn’t need to help. Vaggie’s wings burst forth, and uses her spear to dislodge some concrete to drop on the angel. 

A chain reaction of falling debris ensues.

It has you pressing backwards to narrowly dodge being crushed, and traps you into a corner.

Great! Lucky you. Love that.

Now, you have to climb your way out. Of course, this happens to you. The secondary site should already be prepared if it hasn’t already been run over by angels. The screams of Sinners grate your ears as you step on stray debris.

An angel bursts from the broken ceiling. She swoops down, plunging her sword through the neck of a stray Sinner. Ugh, what a waste of resources. If the cannibal was going to die in the end, then he should have just died the first time. How irritating.

You climb the rocks, dropping to the ground.

The angel turns towards you with her sword. You raise your hand in surrender.

“Are you a doctor?” The angel asks you, taking a step closer.

Fuck…

You take a step back. “Do you angels not have a rule against targeting medical personnel?”

The light reflects off the angel’s sword as she raises it higher. That’s a really sharp sword. A proper sharp sword. A sword with a very, very, sharp edge.

You’re running.

The muscles of your leg aches, and every breath you take burns your lungs. There’s something to live for. It’s not a waste of energy if there’s something to live for.

The building lights glitches sporadically. A buzz grows into the air, and tingles up the nerves of your spine. Your shadow spreads as if darkness itself urges it to grow. It climbs up the wall, and paints the whole space darker. 

The angel looks confused, taking a step back to assess what’s happening. A bright green hue streaks the edges of the shadow. Static builds. It starts off as a soft crackle until it’s all you can hear.

The symbols that carve itself in the air bring out your laughter. “Oh, just you wait until my husband arrives.”

An arm creeps out of the shadows below you. The bones are bent and the claws attached to the arm scratch the floor. A second arm joins the first one, pressing on the ground to haul itself upwards. Alastor climbs out of your shadows, and the air glitches with a sharp static. His antlers are growing, increasing like tree branches.

Blood drips out of his smile, and pools on the floor. Stitches appear on the edges of Alastor’s lips as his snarl widens to bare his teeth. Radio dials replace his usual red pupils.

Alastor presses a kiss on your cheek, the blood on his mouth transferring to your skin. A blissful sight escapes you. “Hi, honey,” Alastor says, a thick radio filter glazing his voice. “I hope I’m not too late.”

Green tendrils snake up the leg of the angel, wrapping around tightly. With a harsh tug, the angel crashes on the ground, trashing against her restraints.

“Not at all!” you say as Alastor’s bone snaps back into place. Gone are the proud antlers and the radio dials that strike your core. What a shame. “Dinner’s being pesky. Can I trouble you with some help?”

“Tell me you’re alright.”

Tiny voodoo dolls creep out of the shadows. They turn their heads, and their bones creak and snap as they turn towards the angels, crawling towards her.

Alastor grabs your shoulder, spinning you to face him instead of the angel. You try to turn, but he pokes your cheek then brushes the back of his fingers down.

His gaze harshen as he looks at the angel, a cold look in his eyes. “I’d appreciate an answer, my love.”

“Just went for a slight jog,” you say and take a deep breath to calm your beating heart. You’re so out of shape that it’s not even funny. “See? Not a feather out of place thanks to you. I just need a minute to calm down.”

Alastor turns to you, and it’s funny to see how fast his gaze turns from cold and harsh to warm and soft.“I thought it was a waste to run.”

“Well, it’s not a waste if you’re running because you have something to live for,” you say as screaming replaces the radio static. It’s loud and shrill, grating your ears. A woosh of the sword, but nothing seems to connect. “Aren’t you supposed to be on the roof?”

Vaguely, Adam and Lucifer exchange blows as they duel across the sky.

Alastor smiles at you, and there’s still blood dripping down his smile. You reach out for him, swiping the blood on his lips with your thumb. It leaves a streak. “I was.”

“Help me…” The angel reaches out. Its wings and part of its legs have been bitten off. “Please… Mercy … mercy.”

“Hush now, darling,” you say, placing a finger on your mouth. There’s a smile on your lips as you bare your teeth. “Mommy and Daddy are talking.”

The angel screams louder. She reaches out as the voodoo dolls chomp their teeth into her skin.

Alastor grabs your shoulders once more, forcing you to meet his eyes. “What happened to Adam?” you ask.

He inches closer. “He isn’t important.”

The angel ceases her screaming, but the sound of squelches doesn’t stop. What a truly gruesome sight.

“You could have saved the body for me,” you tell him, pouting. “I’ve never seen the insides of an angel before…and I wanted to gift you wings. I think you would have liked it.”

Alastor presses his lips on the edges of your mouth and more of his blood transfers on you. He brushes the dirt that sticks on your skin. “This one isn’t worth your time,” he tells you. “I’ll find you someone better. One with less intestines sticking out their guts.”

Somehow, your smile becomes dopey as the taste of iron fills your senses. “Oh, I love it when you flirt with me.”

“You have a very ridiculous notion of flirting.”

There’s a loud and sharp ringing that forces you to clutch your ears.

It’s like a build-up of power. The sound grows, echoing in your eardrums. The pain forces you to your knees, and you clutch your feather to muffle more of the sounds.

It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. Ḯ̶̝͝t̵͇͝h̸͚̲̐̄ũ̵̺r̵̰͎̈́̀ṱ̷͈̉̓s̸͈͕͋̅ í̷̠͎͠t̸͚̥͋h̴̖͌û̷̧r̸̜̉ͅẗ̵͕̯́͐ŝ̴̨ ǐ̵͈̀ṱ̴̻̂̐h̷̻̄͜ǜ̵͈r̶͕̣̈́t̴͇̝̅̕s̷͇̖̈́ ḭ̷̡̈́ţ̵̔h̸͕̱̿ú̸͙̂r̴̯̈t̶͇̖̄s̴̹̆ ḭ̷͗t̸̨͑h̵̭͗̄û̵̞͓͝r̸̭͚̐͌t̸͓̬̃s̵̤̎̂ͅ

Vaguely, you feel Alastor’s hand on top of yours. He presses into your palm to help muffle the sound. His lips are moving. It’s too loud to hear him. Tears prickle your eyes as you clutch your head tighter. He pulls you closer to him, bringing you into his chest as he cradles your head.

With a deafening boom, the building explodes in half.

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

The dust settles eventually.

Light bulbs shatter to the ground, and the brightness of the morning streams into the broken building, illuminating the ruined hall.

The building cut in half. One large beam, and destruction surrounds Alastor everywhere. So much destruction, and loss of Sinner life that eyes begin to carve themselves on the very foundations of the walls.

Power drums through Alastor’s veins, but it would take more than one haphazardly shot beam to destroy the entirety of the Hazbin Hotel.

His wounded pride isn’t important. Not right now. Not at this very moment.

Alastor brings his hand up and down the feathers of your head, smoothening the ones that sticks out. Your shoulders tremble as he presses you into his chest, and he feels every shake under his palm.

The way he holds you, cradling your head with a tightened grip around your body, flares the wound sliced into his chest.

Every single fiber of him hopes you don’t notice. Alastor will take care of that later, and only when you’re safe and far, far, away the crumbling building. Not a second before that.

Alastor pulls you closer to him, even if the pain burns his chest. “Tell me you’re alright,” he says. “You need to tell me nothing hurts.”

It’s more of a plea than an actual demand.

He looks down at where he holds you, tightly pressed against his chest and crumpled between his legs. You’re both crouched on the ground.

Alastor pulls away, just enough to meet your eyes and not any more or any less.

Your hands press into your ears. There’s a blank look on your dusty face. He’ll clean you later. Safety first—you’re safety first, always and forever.

He trails his fingers until they hook on your chin. Alastor tilts it to force you to meet his eyes. “Come on, now,” he says. “This is not the time to be foolish. Tell me if anything hurts.”

There’s a strange look on your face as you bring your palms out in front of you. Blood stains your palms. The light that streams illuminate the space just enough for Alastor to notice the blood on your feathers as well.

It’s weird—strange, almost—how Alastor can hear the way his heart thumps.

“Alastor… oh god …Alastor,” you call out for him, voice an octave higher than usual. “I can’t hear anything. Alastor, I can’t hear. It hurts. I can’t … Alastor … Alastor—”

“I’m right here.” He holds your face in the palm of his hands, careful not to pierce you with his claws. Always careful. Forever careful. Always and forever careful.

You shake your head, trembling between his legs. “I can’t hear, Alastor,” you say with desperation. “I don’t like this.”

Alastor brushes a feather away, reveling in the way you call out for his name. “I’ll take care of that later.”

He pulls you back into his chest, pressing you deeper into him with tight arms. Even if the pain of you propped directly above his wound forces him to bite down on his lips, Alastor still holds you until you stop shaking.

He brushes his hand along your bake. It takes about ten minutes of sharp pain, and carefully labored breaths until you ease into his hold. Alastor would endure another ten minutes because he is your husband, and this is something he can handle. Even if he couldn’t, he’d still endure it for you.

You pull away, looking straight into him with eyes that shine brighter than the sun itself, and give him a bright smile. “Much better?”

A bright smile? Your smiles are rarely bright. They’re soft or gentle or wide or innocent or annoyed, and Alastor can keep on listing. They are bright, sometimes, but this is the wrong type of bright. This one barely reaches your cheeks, and your eyes aren’t crinkling.

It’s a smile for the sake of showing him a smile. It’s controlled and meant to hold your emotions.

Alastor steals a kiss from you, pressing kiss after kiss until your eyes crinkle. That’s better.

“Tell me if anything hurts,” he says, pressing one last kiss. “Come on. Tell me.”

“I’m assuming you’re asking if I can hear,” you say, and Alastor nods like he did. “The ringing stopped, but it’s all still muffled.”

Alastor brings you to your feet, clutching your hand.  The pads of his thumb go up and down. It’s a habit he doesn’t fully notice. “We’re leaving.”

You’re patting your pockets.

The shadows spread around you and his own clutches your hand, pulling it possessively.

It’s easier to travel alone, harder when there’s another person. It takes a significant portion of his magic to bring another person with him. Alastor doesn’t care, not when it’s you he’s bringing.

The shadows snake up, ready to transpo—

You push him away, stepping out of his grasp. “It’s gone! I can’t find it,” you mumble, whipping your head around. “It was right here. It should be right here.”

There’s panic in your eyes as you dash to a pile of rocks. It’s in the way your eyes open wider and your mouth hangs slightly open. Alastor sees every little detail on your face, even in the dark. Anyone who wasn’t looking would miss it, but he’s always looking.

“It was just in my pocket.” You’re in a frenzy now, digging your nails into whatever debris you find.

There’s a loud snap that echoes, but you don’t hear it.

Things were crumbling around you, but you didn't seem to notice. Or was it that you didn't care?

Alastor grips your arm, pulling you away. He narrowly saves you from a light fixture crashing right on your head.

You push on his chest, right above his hidden wound. Pain flares just enough for Alastor to ease his grip, and you pull away.

There are debris that escapes your notice. You trip on them, landing on your ass with a wince.

Alastor should laugh at you. He can’t find it in himself to do so. Not when it hurts in a different way to witness your push him away so… so effortlessly. The base of his ear flickers downwards at the sight of such apathy. Alastor forces them up.

He offers his hand to you. Still, you shake your head.

“No, no. nononono,” you tell him, pushing back. “Later. It should be right here. It was just in my pocket. Where is it?”

Your nails scratch the ground as you push away whatever’s in your sight to keep digging. The feathers on your scalp sharpen as you allow your emotion to take over.

Alastor grabs your arm once more, and he doesn’t care that your frown deepens. “We are leaving, now.”

Just as easily as before, you push him away.

“Stop being foolish!” he snarls at you, even when he knows you hardly hear him. “Whatever it is, I’ll get you another one.”

“It’s important, and I lost it,” you say, still entrapped into a frenzied daze. “I can’t lose it as well. Don’t leave me…Alastor, don’t leave me. Where are you?”

There’s a sharp edge on the concrete you’re trying to push away. It slices your palm open when you push it away. Somehow, you don’t pay any mind to it.

Alastor takes your hand, and kneels on the ground with you. “I’m right here,” he says, and shows the two rings around his finger. “I’m not leaving until you are.”

You pull on his hand, but Alastor grips it tighter. “I have to look for it,” you say, weakly. “It’s important.”

There��s a handkerchief in his pocket that has his name on it. Alastor takes it out, studying the stitches. It’s one of hundreds that you’ve gifted him. Actual hundreds. He counted each and every one.

“Nothing is more important than you.” Alastor wraps the handkerchief around your hand, holding it tightly. “Late me take you, and I promise I will turn every stone in this pathetic building to find whatever it is you’re looking for. It’s not worth your life. Not to me.”

Alastor presses his forehead on your shoulder, curling into you. Shadows pool around, and it grows with his command.

You’re pushing on his shoulders, trying to squeeze out of his hold. “Alastor…no, no. Please!”

He doesn’t listen to a single word. The shadows grow higher. Alastor tightens his grip on your waist, even as you push him away.

“Alastor, no,” you beg him, still pushing on his shoulders. “It’s right there. I found it. It’s right there. Please, let me get it. Let me get it, and we can leave. Please!”

The shadows stop. They recede back into him. It heeds into your demand because your lips were not meant to beg.

Alastor peels himself off your shoulders, swiping your cheek with his thumb. “Tell me where it is.”

You point towards a flipped couch, near the edge of where the building cuts in half. Alastor places a hand on your shoulder when you try to stand.

“Stay here, it’s safer,” he tells you, and your eyes scrunch as he brushes more dust off your face. “If I get it for you, will you finally stop being ridiculous by pushing me away?”

Your head tilts as you lean into his palm, but you nod. It seems you still can’t fully hear him. Alastor goes to get it for you. It’s propped up right at the edge. It’s good that he went. You could have tripped and fell right over.

The box is smooth against his fingers, and the paint has long faded away. All this fuss for such a simple box? Alastor doesn’t understand why you treasure such an item.

He tosses it, and the box lands on your lap.

There’s relief in your eyes as you grab it, and a smile forms on your lips when you check what’s inside. You look around, eyes fluttering until it lands on him.

Alastor’s smile widens into a snarl before he controls himself. Not you—never you. He offers a hand. “We’re leaving, now,” he says. “I don’t appreciate having to repeat myself.”

A crack echoes across the walls.

You take a step towards him, reaching your hands to try and meet him halfway. Alastor will take you out of here. Somewhere safer. Somewhere that doesn’t threaten the life of his very reason for existing.

The Hazbin Hotel.

The war with heaven.

Freedom from his deal.

None of it will matter if you weren’t safe. Everything he’s done so far will become useless.

Another loud crack.

The tips of your fingers are so close. If he can just reach it, Alastor can take you out of here. He can bring you to solid ground where you will be safe. Just one step, and you will be safe.

One last sickening crack, and the floor crumbles beneath you. There’s a soft smile on your lips as the shadows claim what belongs to him.

Beautiful.

You are beautiful.

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

Some of you really wanted Alastor to fuck around and find out. So this is him fucking around and finding out. I have the ability to do the funniest thing ever and just…end the series here <3. Reader fell and that’s it. The end. Gosh, I really hope at least one of you know how K and AAA are taken from Lys. T___T Id be such a nerd if at least one of you didn’t huhuhuhuhu Writing for Alastor is like, just so fun. He’s such a meticulous character so everything he says and the way he says it has a double meaning. Taglist: @mybrainsautocorrect @ray-rook @valentique @qardasngan @valentique @teavibesaf @tobyisher3 @amoraneuro @okay-babe @alastorssimp @aestheticgals-blog @reikamasama @slaggylemon @lyralibra @holymusicalmothman @amoraneuro @littledolly2345 @b-o-n-e-daddy @infinitefox @ayyyyyy-vase @kny-kween @thehiddenvase @stclen-sweethearts @obessivlyonline

[larstudy]

📄 21.11.2023 // Worked on my paper analysis oral, reading about acute intermittent porphyria and the heme biosynthesis synthesis pathway. I started to work on the outline for tomorrow (I see my coworker tomorrow to work on it). It was really interesting, I have to review it once more before being able to explain it but I am on the right track :))

Also, it feels better and the revision season is starting tomorrow so I have to be consistent in my work and stay motivated, which means that I have to take care of myself 🩷

🎧 Sweater weather - The neighbourhood

[talonabraxas]

I trow I hung on that windy Tree nine whole days and nights, stabbed with a spear, offered to Odin, myself to mine own self given, high on that Tree of which none hath heard from what roots it rises to heaven. — Hávamál (Line 137)

The Wild Hunt of Odin Talon Abraxas

The Anglo-Saxon Chronicle, one of the earliest and foremost histories of the Anglo-Saxons, who were descended from the same Germanic tribes as the Norse and broadly shared the same body of religious lore, records the following event as having happened in CE 1127:

Let no one be surprised at what we are about to relate, for it was common gossip up and down the countryside that after February 6th many people both saw and heard a whole pack of huntsmen in full cry. They straddled black horses and black bucks while their hounds were pitch black with staring hideous eyes. This was seen in the very deer park of Peterborough town, and in all the woods stretching from that same spot as far as Stamford. All through the night monks heard them sounding and winding their horns. Reliable witnesses who kept watch in the night declared that there might well have been twenty or even thirty of them in this wild tantivy as near as they could tell.

This spectral, nocturnal horde was the “Wild Hunt,” which was recorded in folklore all throughout ancient, medieval, and even early modern Europe, but was especially concentrated in the Germanic lands of northern Europe. In Scandinavia, it was called Oskoreia, “Terrifying Ride,”[2] or Odensjakt, “Odin’s Hunt.” In Middle High German, it was called Wuotanes Her, “Odin’s Army,” and in modern German Wütende Heer, “Furious/Inspired Army,” or Wilde Jagd, “Wild Hunt.”

It swept through the forests in midwinter, the coldest, darkest part of the year, when ferocious winds and storms howled over the land. Anyone who found him- or herself out of doors at night during this time might spot this ghostly procession – or be spotted by it, which might involve being carried away and dropped miles from where the unfortunate person had been taken up, or worse.[6] Others, practitioners of various forms of magic, joined in it voluntarily, as an intangible part of them (a “soul,” if you like) flew with the cavalcade while their bodies lay in their beds as if sleeping normally. Sometimes, the members of the Hunt entered towns and houses, causing havoc and stealing food and drink.

The Leader of the Wild Hunt

When accounts of the Wild Hunt mention a leader, the figure who filled this role varied greatly. In Germany, the leader could have been “Perchta, Berhta, Berta, Holt, Holle, Hulda, Foste, Selga, Selda, Heme, Herla, Berchtold [or] Berhtolt.”

However, as the Wild Hunt’s various names across the Germanic lands attest, one figure was especially closely associated with it: Odin, the god of the dead, inspiration, ecstatic trance, battle frenzy, knowledge, the ruling class, and creative and intellectual pursuits in general. Two of Odin’s hundreds of names further demonstrate his association with midwinter, the time of the year in which the holiday Yule (Old Norse Jól) falls: Jólnir and Jauloherra, both of which mean something like “Master of Yule.” The myths describe him frequently riding throughout the Nine Worlds on his eight-legged steed, Sleipnir, on quests of a shamanic nature, another theme that connects him to the Wild Hunt. As H.R. Ellis Davidson put it, speaking of the manifestations of the Wild Hunt that continued well into the Christian era, “it was natural that the ancient god of the dead who rode through the air should keep a place in this way in the memory of the people, and it reminds us of the terror which his name must once have inspired.”

Conclusion

In the body of lore surrounding the Wild Hunt, we find a number of themes that connect it powerfully with the dead and the underworld. For one thing, there’s the ghostly character of the hunters or warriors themselves. Dogs and horses, animals that were closely associated with death (amongst a great many other things), were almost invariably present. In some accounts of the Hunt, the riders can hardly, if at all, be distinguished from land spirits, who were themselves often conflated with the dead, as if the two were thought of as being in some sense one and the same. Finally, for the ancient Germanic peoples, the worlds of the living and the dead were especially permeable during midwinter, which goes a long way toward explaining why this troop of apparitions haunted the land during that particular part of the year. In the words of Claude Lecouteux, “[T]he Wild Hunt fell into the vast complex of ancestor worship, the cult of the dead, who are the go-betweens between men and the gods.”

It was as if the very elements of midwinter – the menacing cold, the almost unrelenting darkness, the eerie, desolate silence broken only by the baying winds and galloping storms – manifested the restless dead, and the ancient northern Europeans, whose ways of life and worldviews predisposed them to sense spiritual qualities in the world around them, recorded the sometimes terrifying fruits of such an engagement with the enchanted world in their accounts of the Wild Hunt.

[officialbabayaga]

ok what are the biggest ways blood is done incorrectly in tv/movies????

So this is specific to blood being stored or preserved, not splatter or anything like that.

The problem is, the biggest issue is… all of it.

blood begins coagulating immediately once it leaves the body. if you want it to be useable at all it needs to be stored with an anticoagulant like EDTA or heparin, or it’ll start getting nasty. when the blood in a cut coagulates it dries out and forms a scab. when blood coagulates while staying in liquid form it starts clumping together and getting gelatinous.

blood must be stored at 4-8C if it’s going to be anything longer than an hour, at most

everyone’s blood “goes bad” at different rates, but if stored properly most blood can last 2-3 weeks

by “goes bad” i mean that the red blood cells start breaking down and the heme starts leaching into the serum

you can tell this is happening because - and this is probably one of the biggest differences - blood does not stay looking like a dark red liquid if it’s been undisturbed for longer than 1-2 hours! the red blood cells are heavier than the plasma they’re floating in, so they sink to the bottom. because blood is generally around 50% hemoglobin, this means that there tends to be an almost equal and very distinct color split in the upper and lower halves of a vial of blood. the red blood cells will look a darker red than standard homogenized blood, and the plasma can range in color from completely clear to cloudy, colorless to dark yellow. the color depends on diet, hydration level, and genetics for the most part.

blood looks so nasty and sludgy when you’re dehydrated. drink water.

to make the blood look like blood again, you have to GENTLY mix it. as gently as possible. i developed a kind of rocking-twisting technique, because if you handle it too roughly you’ll hemolyze all those delicate red blood cells and it’ll be ruined.

this is what stored blood looks like:

not a super healthy example but still a pretty standard one. with plasma this cloudy i’d guess they had a fatty meal before getting the blood draw. it’s looking redder than the plasma usually does too, but there’s quite a lot more natural variation in blood than people realize.

[whomstress]

Heme no jax (A song for Jax)

First Crush Human au BunnyDoll Fic I promised with the poll on Tumblr!I've been practicing Hula dancing and learning more about Pacific Islander culture and LOVE this video and how the professional hula dancer in this moves. It's just so graceful and beautiful. And the tradition and heart that goes into it really inspired me.

SO I based my obsession of this amazing dance on my current hyperfixation lol. It's short so you can watch it or not but just know that Ragatha is pretty much dancing the same as the woman in the video and she is singing the song in it.

This very much a passion project fic so I hope you guys like it.

It was a beach day again. Caine tried not to do the same thing every day, but of all the time he’s been here, there have been a handful of days by the water. Usually by the lake, but on a rare occasion he’d heard from Ragatha, he’d take them to a room he made. A beach that only reached about a mile around in a circle. Sand, cocunut trees, and the ocean included.

Rolling his eyes, he lazily lays in a hammock under the sun with his hands behind his head and watches the others from behind. It’s been a while since he got some serious sun, and his skin was starting to look more purple than brown, which always rubbed him wrong way. They were all granted bathing suits, and they got to choose, for the most part. He chose to avoid it all together, changing into a purple hoodie and yellow swim shorts. He may be the most attractive one here, but he also had to be humble that way. He couldn’t help but chuckle at his own sarcastic thought.

He looked around at the others, as most of them played in the water. Kinger was building himself an actual sand castle to hide in, while Gangle helped him with her comedy mask intact for once. As much as he hated it, the old man actually had a good body. How did the guy always bend over, like a question mark, and have abs? Gangle, of course, was boring as hell and also sporting a jacket, but it had little cat ears and cat paws to cover her hands. She was hanging out with Ragatha as she went over her encyclopedia of ocean knowledge. As someone actually forced to have stupid animal ears come out of his head. The cutsie jacker made his eyes roll so back in his head that he actually saw black for a moment.

Ragtha, of course, had to be wearing some kind of traditional hula outfit. Cheater. That wasn't in his options. It was a long red dress with many folds that looked fluffy but sturdy at the same time and swayed with every move she made and, whatever that leafy hula hat thing was called on her head. He made a joke about weren’t hula girls supposed to wear coconut bras and grass skirts with a wink, but instead of getting flustered, she gave him a 5-point lecture that he once again only half listened to.

Ever since Caine let them know they were going to the beach Ragatha had practically been vibrating in place from excitement. He never quite paid attention to what she was saying when she’d gush about going to the beach, but since she told everyone and their mother too, he happened to pick up that one of the few things she remembered all this time was her being Hawaiian and having a deep appreciation and “heart” with the ocean. Whatever the hell that meant.

Jax understood her, kind of. One of the few things he also remembered, though he rarely spoke it out loud, was thinking in Spanish as much as English and the food he grew up with. He didn’t like speaking about, and he liked to be left alone about his past.

Not that he’d ever admit they had something in common. Her chipper attitude did get on his nerves at times, but over the years, he’d been there with the variety of characters he’d cycled through. He’d rather have her stick with him this long than anyone else. Kinger was fun to mess with, but he was also so out of it most of the time that his insults and jokes went straight over his head. When Gangle lasted longer than most, she became a new target as well.

There was always something different about Ragatha, though, that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. He didn’t like to dwell on it too much, but he did learn when her smiles were fake and rarely true. Though he stayed mostly to himself today, Jax caught himself staring at Ragatha more often than normal. Not that he usually stares, but it was just that her smile was brighter than the damn sun today.

It was… weird.

And it made him feel weird. She’d directed her smile straight to him at times and beckoned him to come over to them as if she genuinely wanted his company for once. He refused every time but something uncomfortable would stir in his chest, seeing her smile fade for a moment like she was upset, he wouldn’t spend time with her. He decided he wouldn’t even entertain a thought of what that could mean, and even with the blazing sun, he forced himself into a sleep. A habit he unfortunately had to learn to do.

He slept in what could only be described as a gentle nightmare. It was the first time he broke down when he got there. The memory of that awful day and all the feelings that came with the realization that he couldn’t leave. He'd tried so many things to get out. But on that horrible, horrible day, he had a nightmare about what happened after running out of options to escape. Everyone was a monster to him, believing they weren’t real. He even threatened Ragatha with a knife he found, but she showed him he couldn’t get a cut on her, and he broke.

This is usually where his nightmare ends, but today he remembered what happened next. As everyone else backed away from his downward spiral, whispering something about "abstraction,” she walked forward. He tried to threaten her again, but she just kept coming. She tried to touch him, but he wouldn’t let her, and when he thought he was at his bottom, he heard a beautiful voice. It was gentle and calm, and even with his hiccups and heavy breaths, he could hear her through it. He listens distantly and slowly focuses. He doesn’t know when he starts to calm, but he’s mesmerized by the voice. It’s in a language he doesn’t know, but it doesn’t matter because his breath begins to even out and his head finally starts to clear. He doesn’t know how many times she’s sang the whole song, but it’s enough times he starts to notice the sounds of the first lyrics when she starts over.

Jax doesn’t know her name, but part of him coming down from his terrible high is taking in every bit of her face. Her eyes were closed, but she looked like a doll. Her frizzy red curls looked like they were soft as yarn, and her skin looked plush. He focused on her mouth and her slightly pink lips as they formed beautifully around her song. Something like a chill comes over him when she slowly opens her red and blue eyes and gently smiles at him. “Are you okay?”

He doesn't answer, but says, “One more time.” He’d never ask again; this is the only time anyone here would see him like this, including her. He says it all in his eyes, and without a word, she nods, starting over.

Jax closes his eyes and waits for the soothing feeling to come over him one more time.

“O Kalākaua he inoa

'O Ka pua mae'ole i ka lā”

His eyes snap open, and he searches for the sound to make sure he hasn’t lost it. It’s sunset, and his vision takes a hit from accidentally looking directly into the sun. As his vision clears, he finds Ragatha dancing on the beach, singing the same song she sang to him years ago. And all of a sudden, he’s back. Back to that day, back to that moment, where he is mesmerized by every one of Ragatha’s gentle moves and sounds.

“Ka pua maila i ka mauna

I ke kuahiwi 'o Mauna Kea”

The way she moves her body almost completely matches the waves behind her, as if she and the sea are dancing together. The movements are so fluid and blend together so effortlessly that it makes it seem easy, but from spying on her trying to teach Gangle earlier, he knows it's anything but. Her dress flows when she spins like a halo around her body.

“Ke 'ā maila i Kīlauea

Mālamalama i Wahinekapu”

Dancing always seemed like a waste of time to him, but watching her movements as captivating as her song, he finally understood why it was a profession. How can someone invoke such beauty and emotion with such a simple melody and sway of the body?

“A ka luna o Uwēkahuna

I ka pali kapu o Ka'auea”

And her song. so kind to the ears. It wasn’t just him. Even Kinger was completely still for once, allowing everyone to lull into a comfort they no longer had the luxury of.

“Ea mai ke ali'i kia manu

Ua wehi i ka hulu o ka mamo”

Anyone could fall asleep to Ragatha like this.

“Ka pua nani a'o Hawai'i

'O Kalākaua he inoa”

He wanted to fall asleep with Ragatha like this.

“He Inoa No Kalani Kalākaua Kulele”

Finally, she finishes with a strong movement, just slightly out of breath, and silence lets the moment of tranquility last a little longer before Cain sets off a confetti cannon, scaring everyone half to death and inviting them to a dinner. Coming back to earth Gangle and Kinger rush to her side, giving her compliments galore, and he watches her as she tries to stay as humble as possible while also showing appreciation for their compliments.

Ragatha is so distracted she doesn’t notice Jax had come closer when Kinger and Gangle started to move toward the feast. She saw him from the corner of her eye and turned to him with a teasing smile to ask, “So what did you..." She paused at the intensity of his eyes and asked, “think?”

Jax stays steps closer, her tan skin glowing with a golden light from the sunset, making her look like an angel in the light. She shuffles a little, uncomfortable under his powerful stare, her face starting to flush pink. She tries to joke, “Was it that bad?”

“What do I think?” He moves closer into her space, and she moves back just a mini step suddenly realizing how much taller he is than her. He looks at her face over like he's trying to memorize what she looked like before slowly moving to her eyes. “Do you really want to know?"

She pauses moment and then nods. Her mouth is slightly parted and he's watching her reaction when his hand moves closer. He brushes a loose curl behind her ear before dragging her fingertips softly across her cheek, making her shiver. One finger reaches her lips and he places the slightest pressure as if testing the feel agaist his skin, and she gasps. "I think," He pauses holding her in anticipation and moves in just an inch closer, but she feels like there’s no space left between them. He looks up back to her face a in a deep blush and hooded eyes and smirks just the slightest bit in pride, moving so he can whisper in her ear, “You're weird.”’

She blinks not registering anything but his hot breath against her ear when he snaps back with a with a wicked smirk and lazily walks away with his hands behind his head. “You coming, or what dollface? I’m starving!”

She’s left there light-headed and breath still caught in her chest, and it takes a moment to compose herself and her flustered nerves. What was he doing? He had never acted like this before, she questioned herself. But what she doesn’t know is that he was asking himself the same thing.

[acti-veg]

Hello, I would like genuine advice because my situation is often seen as taboo by some vegans but I would still like to try my best in the position I'm in.

I have been a vegetarian for 3 years now and was planning to go vegan gradually, I often learned vegan recipes, went to vegan cafes and restaurants, participated in veganuary, followed vegan activists...etc

The problem is even while still eating eggs and dairy (as well as lots of red beans, chickpeas, lentils, tofu, leafy greens + vitamin C to help absorption) my iron levels keep plummeting. I have been trying to take iron supplements for a year now but never managed to stop being anemic. I also have to say my period is quite heavy which doesn't help much.

I'm now feeling so tired I'm considering going pescetarian for a while to see if I manage to get my iron levels back up this year. I feel very disappointed because I had planned to consume less animal products, not more but alas it looks like my body can't follow.

I would like to know if you have any advice to lower animal suffering both in my diet and in my day to day life while being pescetarian for health-related reasons ?

The trouble with fish is that it really isn’t very high in iron compared with the plant sources you’re eating now. Tuna is the one people often cite for iron, but even that is only about 1.6 grams per 100 grams, compared to say tofu which you’re already eating, which is 5.4 grams per 100 grams. The iron in fish is heme iron which may be easier to absorb, but with much less of it available it’s unlikely to raise your iron levels at the rate you need.

I think that your focus should really be on your health above everything else right now. Have you been to a nutritionist at this stage? That would be my immediate recommendation, infusing iron is an option for people with long-term anaemia and would get your iron up far quicker than eating fish would, and lower the risk of any health complications. You need to know if there is some sort of underlying absorption issue before you can know what you need to eat to deal with it.

Focus on getting yourself healthy again, don’t make any further dietary changes until you’ve seen a doctor and talked through options with a nutritionist. Only once you’ve got a handle on things and understand what is going on should you start thinking about any further dietary changes to shift towards veganism, and in the meantime you can still be vegan in every other aspect of your life.

[kylejsugarman]

rotation schedule for third year 😳 and in a few days i'll know which electives i got to fill those spaces in august and february. if i dont get the pediatric heme/onc elective in august, i will die. Badly.

[sanvitheartificer]

So I recently watched Hamilton for the first time on screen. The first time I saw it was actually in person, and tbh I don't recommend it, because I couldn't parse all the lyrics in the moment and couldn't see the choreography and expressions. It's actually an extremely good musical and story?? The music itself is very good and the character arcs are really, really well-plotted and anyway I get the hype more now. I've spent the last few weeks reading a fuckton of old fic, it's been fun and I've enjoyed it.

And I have SO many thoughts about Hamilton and about history and fandom and stuff >:3

Here's my mini-outline for this post:

>my understanding of historical realities

>how that relates to the choices made to frame Hamilton the way it's framed

>how that relates to the modern fandom

>sidetrack into fic that's about reincarnation and some technical problems with that

>fic idea that I'll never ever write

1. My understanding of Hamilton, the actual historical figure, is that he, like the rest of the founding fathers, was not incidentally or casually supporting slavery and other kinds of injustice. That was the POINT of the Revolution. I am so, so so very far from an expert, but I did take this really interesting class that talked about how there were essentially three parties in the American Revolutionary War: there were rich British people, there were rich American people, and there were poor American people. And the rich American people won.

My understanding of the reason for the infamous debt plan is BECAUSE it basically allowed rich people to be the creditors and collect interest, maintaining a social order in which rich people stayed rich and poor people stayed poor. Like, look at it this way: rich people lend money to the American government, poor people are taxed and therefore pay the interest on those loans, keeping them poor; rich people become invested in the success of the government, staying in power in the government, making money off poor people. It's very clever! It's also not something that I personally find admirable. 2.

I think that it is FASCINATING to look at how successful Hamilton has been. To be clear: I really enjoy the story, I find it incredibly well written and just fun. And I think part of the reason I find it easy to love is because it is in many ways about white people, telling familiar stories.

It's a story featuring actors of color, and it SAYS things about and to the experiences of people of color. But it's in large part a story about historical rich white people. I have done no research, but the only line I can think of offhand that's even directly to a historical person of color is Jefferson going “Sally be a dear put my bag down” once. She doesn't get a line, if I'm remembering correctly, just nods.

In some ways, Hamilton kind of feels like it says, “Look, people of color can have the same kind of stories that rich white people can have!” (which, to be clear, I would LIKE to be more of a thing.) To be even more ungenerous, it feels in some ways like that age-old tradition of rich people escaping the stigma of being rich by pretending they're poor, or white people in blackface. Like, sure, we'll have characters of color, but only if they're telling white stories. Only if whiteness is still centered.

And, of course, it's very much a story about social advancement and a person who starts out poor becoming rich, which is another beloved archetype that is increasingly impossible in the real world. You get to see the same capitalist story of “poor person pulling himself up by his bootstraps” but with trappings of liberal progressiveness.

Which is an excellent recipe for success, because it removes some of the stigma of enjoying that kind of story, and also genuinely allows people of color to relate in real ways to a story that historically DOES NOT make room for them in that way. Hits a lot of audiences.

I do not think Hamilton would have been commercially successful if it was about Sally Heming's story. And I don't think most audiences would enjoy it as much, because the story of “this person was personally impacted by injustice for their entire life and was not able to escape it in a big dramatic scene” is not really as easy to watch? Like stories of resilience can be so, so impactful, but. I do not think they're as fun or compelling as “this person pulled themself up and changed everything!” for me personally, most of the time. 3.

The fandom absolutely echoes all that nonsense, because fandom also centers whiteness, like, almost exclusively – at least the fandoms I've been in, and I admit that's probably in part because my tendency is 100% to center white rich voices and to enjoy those familiar stories. But it's also like... not hard to find those stories, even if it weren't my tendency. I trip over them; I don't have to try. It's way harder to find stories that don't center whiteness.

And I wonder for myself, like, what do I do about that? There's books and stories out there about Sally Hemings, I'm sure, but I haven't read them, and I don't really want to. I like the fantasy world of fandom where Alexander Hamilton is a 20-something extremely liberal trans guy from the Caribbean.

I don't think the solution is “be ashamed of what you like” but I don't think it's really enough to be like “be aware that what you like is primarily centering white capitalist rich propaganda”, either. I mean, awareness is great, but it doesn't FEEL like it's enough.

Maybe it's “cultivate an appreciation for stories that don't center whiteness and richness”?? And not in a homework kind of way or “go track down 20 documentaries about slavery” but in a way where it's like, recognize that the kinds of stories that you like and find fun to watch/read/listen to can absolutely be written without centering whiteness/richness. It would be HARD to hit some of the same narrative beats of inspiration that Hamilton hits in a Sally Hemings musical, but hell, I don't think it would be impossible to do that. (Obviously the story would not be the same, and it shouldn't be, but I'm just saying that stories of people oppressed by unjust systems can still be inspirational and fun! they don't always have to be tragedies!) It may even be out there and I just don't know it.

I think right now, Sally Hemings: The Musical would not be commercially successful, even if it DID hit the same narrative beats as Hamilton. Because it's too threatening to tell that story, in a lot of ways. But that's what I would like to do. Work towards a world where A. racism and poverty don't fucking exist and B. fandom and mass media are less racist and classist and etc.

….I'll go into fic ideas in a new post, since this feels like a complete thought for now.

[stressedlawsecretary]

Today's Focus

Photo credit: Mess Studio

09.24.24 - Once again, I find it harder to get out of bed on a Tuesday than a Monday; the good news is I've been waking up naturally like a couple min before my alarm. Yesterday and today have been new dresses, and the 'belt' for this one is a couple of necklaces strung together. Looks cute though, doesn't it?

Work - Well I didn't leave anything for myself but boy was I busy yesterday. Put together like three of case files, did half a dozen mailings, saved dozens of efiles (I did finish saving the whole docket of the one old case) along with booking a hotel for CSB for today and a couple other emails/reaching out type things. Hopefully today is quieter?

Background Noise - In the office so binging YT. Again, I know I didn't get close to the 50 videos I did over the weekend, but I did watch 21 videos yesterday. This is at least on par with the average, and includes an hr long video on the Dress to Impress ARG, and a two part podcast (over an hr each) on the "Who tf did I marry?" TikTok story.

Study - Tuesday is article reading day and I'm hoping to read a lot. Yesterday wasn't awful either, despite how busy I was. I only got a little farther in the election complaint I started last week, but I also read six press releases, three random articles, four articles related to the Jefferson-Heming controversy, which I got off of a PBS Frontline timeline called "History of a Scandal" that I also finished going through. Plus three published decisions: I finished up the one in Alexander v. Gardner-Denver Co., and read both decisions related to Allen v. Lovejoy which was a Title VII sex-discrimination case.

Extras - Tuesday and the last one of the month so it's the deep-cleaning of the bathroom on the list today; I'm making an easy dinner by grilling a steak and roasting some sweet potatoes, so I should have time to clean. I'm starting Kaitou Sentai Lupinranger vs Keisatsu Sentai Patranger today, and I have to make sure I get season 20 of Whose Line as well. My mini-essay is turning into a long one so if I post it today, I'll be happy.

[creepyscritches]

I went to the malignant hematologist this week and honestly the most fun I've had at a doctor's office. ALL the nurses are like me (medically lol). For the first time in my life I was in a room where everyone had Raynauds and we were swapping favorite dead-finger pranks. The intake nurse said her doctor dxed her connective tissue lupus by looking at her hands' mobility and I kept saying "THAT'S not normal??" and my mother was in the bg hopelessly trying to bend her fingers the same way we were lol... I couldn't do all she could, but then again mine isn't of the connective tissue ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Idk no one WANTS to have to be at a malignant clinic, but it's really fun to see the practical application of heme/onc protocol from the patient perspective. I LOVE not having to find the answers myself lol...what a luxury to have the doctor explain it until it makes sense. :3c

[calebwittebane]

What youtube channels do you like? I'm looking for some new ones to watch

ok so!

media analysis, essays, philosophy and such: folding ideas, princess weekes, lola sebastian, jacob geller, philosophytube, shaun, adam neely, fab socialism, skip intro, yhara zayd

science and engineering and transport and such: practical engineering, technological connections, kyle hill, chubbyemu/heme review, alexander gustafsson, disaster breakdown, bobbybroccoli, kuracyja

commentary/drama/responses/what have you: d'angelo wallace, jordan adika, ethan is online

documentaries and deep dives: oki's weird stories, fredrik knudsen, defunctland, bobbybroccoli, folding ideas, princess weekes

art and music: alphonso dunn, sideways, adam neely

bolded+italicized are my Big Faves. some of them fit into a couple categories at once so i put them in each thats why they repeat.

other than that i enjoy doccos and yubetube podcasts from various creators about like, chemistry, trains, lesser known disasters in civil engineering and transport, natural phenomena, internal diseases, criminal law (likely the main cause for my absolute garbage recommendations LOL), mathematics, lost media and so on. it would take me A While to compile any sorta list of those

[cupcraft]

My Step 1 Study Guide

Hello! I recently took the step 1 test and passed and I thought I'd share what I did to study and prepare just in case it helps anyone out. Plus advice i'd give looking back on things i didn't do. Hopefully this helps and sorry it's so long. Feel free to send me asks on anything at all!

1: during m1/m2 year -> utilize the Anking deck/study sheets + first aid + things and videos like amboss/scholarrx/sketchy/boards and beyond + pathoma as you go through the blocks. Don't focus on step studying but utilize these resources to bolster your block exams. I used anking & sketchy & first aid primarily but kinda too late and i wish i utilized it earlier. Also, if your school doesn't have step 1 style test questions overall (like mine did for a bit) i'd do scholarrx questions to practice right before a test (it helped me with the tests and also got me to see patterns ahead of time). I wouldn't start using UWorld right away, at least not intensely. If you want a first pass you could start in November/December but honestly for me that was too much so I didn't.

2: Last block/pre-dedicated -> Make a study plan. You can use things like cram fighter or you can do it by hand or in excel/google sheets. If you need mine as an example feel free to ask, though my general plan was review first aid/content review/practice exams and questions/free 120/rest/exam in that order and i did the stuff i forgot first and ended with the info i did in my last block which was msk/derm/heme/onc/ct. It should be noted that you must tell yourself now that this plan won't be adhered to 1000% and you will get behind and you will just say fuck it to some stuff as you go. And be honest with yourself that you may give up studying earlier than you think or sleep in a lot of days. Just be kind to yourself now. This is just a guide to help you, not a strict rule book. For example, i meant to do cardio block review in 2 days and my mental health tanked so it took me like 5 days and i still had a ton of questions i couldn't do.

3: Dedicated ->

Prioritize getting through First Aid srsly and supplement it as you do content review. I read First aid one pass and then i supplemented information from Boards and Beyond videos and some information from pathoma. Mostly, i kept my notes within the pathoma textbook (as i bought a subscription and received the textbook).

As you do content review do Uworld questions and once you get through review really prioritize practice questions and finishing Uworld. You won't realistically finish all questions or blocks but at least try to do as much as you can. I ended Dedicated about 64% through. With Uworld your average will be low and at times will barely improve, honestly as long as you are improving on the net and your average is 40% or higher i think you're doing just fine imo (as that was my experience). UWorld is meant to be harder. When you do UWorld at first do tutor mode and always write down questions you guessed on/got wrong/don't understand in a notebook for review later. I wish i had made anki on them as i went along but i was too burnt out for that realistically for many reasons.

Looking back on it i watched every sketchy but i wish i at least did the anking for the sketchy (as i did no anking during dedicated) to help me remember.

Do practice exams. I did 1 uworld one and 4 NBME tests plus the free 120. the UWorld one in my opinion was not worth it and it lowered my confidence majorly as it was so fucking hard and full of trick questions. The NBME ones were much more useful. The free 120 was the most useful as many of the questions you get may reappear on step, and so it's the best one to do the week of your test so it's fresh in your mind. Make sure as always you review the questions you got wrong because it's so so helpful.

Day before the exam what do i do? -> maybe light review (ie stuff you got wrong a lot, some anki, first aid notes) but otherwise do nothing. srsly just rest, eat, and go to bed!

Remind yourself that you just need to pass. 60% is passing. No one will know your score. It's pass fail!

4: What resources do you recommend? Don't? Etc? ->

Resources I used: Boards and Beyond (videos), Pathoma (videos and textbook), First Aid, Sketchy Micro & Pharm, UWorld, NBME Practice tests (the CBSE), NBME free 120.

Usefulness of the resources: I really found everything I used to be useful but there's some stipulations. I found that neither UWorld nor First Aid prepared me for the biostats questions well other than memorizing equations. Biostats/public health is often a lot more problem solving oriented not just "can you do an odds ratio" for ex, so the NBME practice exams were more useful for that concept. I also did not find every boards and beyond video useful so there were many i skipped, esp pharm videos as i used sketchy! Along with first aid i bought the other first aid book, the clinical reasoning one. TBH it is a useful book (i used it a bit during my blocks) but during dedicated i was so tired and didnt have time to use it so do with that what you will. Sketchy was so so useful esp for micro but like I said i wish i supplemented with Anki. Also, Boards and Beyond cardio was so helpful but a lot of info i skipped through as i found it too detailed for step overall, but it is good to use looking back on it for clerkships i imagine (as there's info specific to clinical practice).

Anki specifically: I stopped all anki during dedicated because I just was too overwhelmed and couldn't keep up with it. Looking back I would've used Anki a lot earlier than i did during the blocks and kept up with it in small amts cumulatively, and then during dedicated done the sketchy ANKI primarily/old reviews/+anki for stuff i got wrong on questions a lot to make it easier. But, i still did well without it during dedicated.

5: test day tips ->

if you have stomach problems like me don't drink caffeine and prioritize sleep the night before (if you can tolerate caffeine then this is fine).

Pack lots of snacks that you know you will be able to eat while exhausted and stressed. I find it hard to eat something heavy on days like that, so i packed things like grapes/oranges/granola/pretzels/pbj/beef jerky. Stuff that would fill me and fuel me but not make me feel sick. Pack lots of water and potentially Gatorade or something.

Go to the bathroom before you enter the exam room.

Before the test day plan how you will take your breaks (this helped me because it was really overwhelming otherwise) and then you'll be able to read yourself on the test day to modify your break time.

Go through all the questions and then review marked ones and then review all of them together. Just know you will mark almost every question and it doesn't mean you got them wrong and failed.

6: other misc tips ->

just avoid the reddit. There are plenty of good advice plus links to resources (ie anking deck/etc.) on reddit and you should use it for that. But often i found the reddit to be a place that made me feel like i was gonna fail just like it was during MCAT/applying to school. I'd be like "is this score good" and they'd be like omg delay your test youre not gonna do well you should be scoring xyz. I just couldn't read that stuff, even if there was good and honest advice in between.

It's okay to push back your test/retake it if you have to (and can! It depends on your situation).

Consult an academic coach/advisor at your school during dedicated!

Work in groups: ie meet up with people at a library and use each other for accountability or if you need group review sessions please do that. All in all, just don't let yourself be isolated. Even do work with friends in other programs, just having ppl there will help you.

Prioritize sleep, food, water. Seems redundant to say but genuinely do this.

Change scenery a lot. Go to a cafe, go to school, go to a library or WeWork, go to your family's house, etc. It really will help you.

Regardless of your schedule and how well you follow it try to stop working at the same time every day. Set a time you will stop work forever and play video games or read a book or just collapse onto the couch. If you study 24 hours a day you will burn out faster.

Accommodations? How do i get those for the test -> this should be a post on it's own so i will just say if you want me to make a post on this I can. I had private room accommodations just to share! But there are many types of accommodations. Just know you really have to do this like a year/many months in advance!

That's really all i can think of. Just ask me if you have any q's! Goodluck ya'll.

[faithfulcat111]

WIP Wednesday

Internet is out all day for work (thank you hotspot), so I am trying to put at least a little effort into some of my WIPS. Have a little bit from the next bit from the Mapleswood Castle-verse:

“Your choice: dare of either…” Max wasn’t fully listening at this point. It was a beautiful summer day, just on the right side of pleasantly warm. She wasn’t sure where Robin or Steve had disappeared off to, but the school had been let out for the day as well so she was just basking in the warm sun rays out in the training field while Dustin hemed and hawed over the next dare he would try to come up with. Mike and Will weren’t that far away, whispering to each other as Will scribbled something on a piece of parchment. She was missing the other two members of their troupe, but not so much that she couldn’t enjoy this perfect day. “Either kissing Mike or kissing Sir Hops-a-Lot.” Scratch all that. This was the worst day ever and she would be needing to strangle Dustin before the day was up. She was sure that Lucas and Will would at least help her once she explained why.