#hopefully this won’t be too long on mobile

[cloverinblue]

I wanted to do artvartist since the last time i did it was 2018 but it didn't feel right because most of what I've done is comics so I picked some comics with cool panels I thought maybe I could do it with but idk i'm so just busy and lazy

Anyway this was cool to look at.

I miss how experimental i could get with fe3h but drawing those costumes on every panel was crazy...

I also almost had a thing going on with Naomi and Tanaka but I guess canon kind of broke my idea. Also I wasn't sure if I could pull off the angst between her and Tanaka so it kinda dropped off, but I love what I've done for it.

I also drew a bit of mp100 and detroit become human here. For DBH, I had grand ambitions of what I wanted to draw but I didn't think I could pull it off.

It wasn't until I started drawing Ajin again that I got a real workflow going and that helped a lot in making things faster. Right now I'm in my Okutana era and I'm like really focused on what's happening between them the most and haven't been too experimental with the format.

[garglyswoof]

Fragile Things

ao3 For @kastleexchange Come What May Day 1, "What Could Be" The first thing they say to each other in Daredevil: Born Again. Please note i have no clue what canon is anymore, except (hopefully) in terms of characterization. She knows it can’t last, like it’s a truce the world has temporarily granted, fragile and held together by the most tenuous of things. A house of cards, really, and she eyes it warily, even as Matt’s let down his own guard now that Fisk isn’t around. No one has stepped up to the plate to organize criminal activity on the scale Fisk had managed, his empire ran haphazardly by lesser minds, as lesser threats.

So yes, Matt has let them in more, her and Foggy, now that his nightly excursions seem almost too easy. Not that they don’t leave him bruised and battered, but he seems less afraid of pulling his friends in when there’s not a criminal mastermind behind them, just poor attempts at the throne.

Still, she‘s tense that whole spring, into summer, then the fall, waiting and watching that house of cards. The Jack of Hearts looks a little bit like Foggy, who’d grown a goatee and then shaved it off in favor of just a mustache despite Karen needling him mercilessly for it.

“Karen, I’m going through my eras of TV Hunk. We’re in the Tom Selleck phase, do you know how many women swooned over his mustache? I will not be bound by societal changes.”

“Does Marci like it?”

He glances sidelong at her, pauses then lets out a defeated sigh. “Yes, or you know it would be gone in 30 seconds.”

“Ok I’ll work on her. Every time you come into the office I picture you sliding across the hood of a 70s muscle car like you’re in Magnum P.I. and I can’t take you seriously.”

“Reminds me of that time when Fr--” Foggy stops himself, but she knows.

“Yeah,” she says softly, her eyes flicking up to meet his gaze then leave it. “Yeah it does.”

It would be a lie to say she didn’t think about Frank, but Murdock, Nelson and Page had been a good distraction this last year. Setting up the firm, finding a new office in the Kitchen, and just playing serious legal catch-up to the two avocados at law were enough to keep thoughts of him to a dull roar (she’d bought them little namesakes, glass-blown ones with painted-on sunglasses and a mustache, from a stall at one of those weekend art festivals that were always popping up around the city).

Still, at night when she tosses her keys on the side table and the lonely weight of her quiet apartment settles into her bones, she thinks of him. Of how he couldn’t look at her in that damned hospital room, eyes darting, of how he pushed her away with his own stubborn, selfish aims. Yeah. Yeah, she’ll have a lot to say to him, if she could. 

But he’s been gone this past year, or maybe just terrorizing some other part of the country’s criminal organizations. Like she’d thought earlier, New York was missing some of its seedy underbelly these days. It’s why it worked, this house of cards.

It comes crashing down that Thursday night. 

It had been a good day, Matt heading into court in the afternoon, Foggy finally breaking the industrious quiet by announcing he’s always wanted a putting green in his office. 

Somehow that has evolved into a three-hole miniature golf course where the final hole is a ramp to Foggy’s blown-up face from an old political poster with the mouth cut out. Karen’s sides hurt from laughing as the city settles into the dark of evening. 

“Wow, you really suck at this,” Foggy laughs.

“I did not know I needed to practice -” she bursts into giggles -”putting a ball - oh god - p-putting a ball into your m-mouth”.

Foggy loses it too until a text buzzes both their phones. They both sober up from the laughter, each thinking the same thought as they reach for their mobiles. Matt’s been gone too long.

Sure enough, it’s a text from him, and Karen’s heart sinks from the vagueness of it.

Won’t be able to make it out tonight. You two have fun and see you in the a.m.

She looks up to see Foggy’s expression as he studies the words on the screen like an Ancient Text, the backlight and the now dim light in the office lending him a haggard expression. It's the first time she’s seen it in a year.

“He’ll be okay, Fogs.” She isn’t sure she believes it, but she says it anyway. She doesn’t think he believes it either, but he smiles all the same. She marvels, not for the first time, at how trauma is a form of time travel. Because despite the progress of this past year, her and Foggy both remember Matt, before, and they are right back there again in an instant.

Foggy’s expression almost breaks her heart as he nods and takes an absentminded last putt, the ball rolling up the braille legal book ramp and straight into the picture’s mouth.

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

Karen hasn’t changed a bit, despite all that’s happened, and she knows this is a bad idea but can’t stop herself all the same. She’d said goodbye to Foggy at the office doorway, mumbling something about cleaning up the casserole dish from one of their recent sliding scale (if you could call it that) clients. Foggy had been on the phone with Marci, but had paused - Karen’s heart aching with the kindness of him - for a moment, holding his hand over the speaker.

“You sure?” He'd mouthed before speaking in a whisper. “This isn’t about Matt, right?”

She’d shrugged her shoulders. She wasn’t going to lie about that, at least. “Maybe it is, but it’s okay. I just want to have some time to think, and scrubbing cheese off this casserole dish will sadly give me time.”

He’d left then, with one worried glance backwards. She’ll have to keep an eye on her phone tonight, she’s willing to bet he’ll at least text to check in on her. 

It had been the silences from Matt that had scared them the most. She isn’t doing that to Foggy.

Still, she’s pretty sure he wouldn’t approve of her rifling through Matt’s files, her notes, and the Bulletin trying to triangulate where the hell Daredevil is off to tonight. She figures it out when she sees the line in the local crime beat from last week, from a paper she hadn’t yet let herself start reading again until now. 

Ex-FBI Officer Charged with Death of Priest, FBI Officer Escapes From Prison

She drops the paper and scrambles to her desk, pulling out the drawer that holds her purse, shaking, and grabs her gun, her breath ragged in the quiet of the office, the gun almost sucking the light out of the room, matte black. She stares at it for a moment before raising it in both hands, her feet unconsciously shifting apart to ground her. She feels the trigger under her finger, safety still on, she knows, and she presses the trigger once, twice, three times, over and over until her face crumples and she slides to the floor. 

She doesn’t give herself much time to let the pain rule her, she never does. If Bullseye is back, then that’s what Matt is looking into, and she knows he’ll need help despite not wanting it. Not to mention she has a score to settle with that psycho. Her hand shakes as she locks the office up until she stares at her fingers, willing them to calmness.

The church still looms taller than her faith, which isn’t hard to manage, she thinks wryly. The night holds an early fall chill, a breeze off the river teasing the hairs at the nape of her neck where her hair is pulled into a low ponytail. Quiet rules the street with the church lit gently by low exterior lights as she eyes the windows and tries not to think about the past. She’s almost about to give up, thinking that she’s guessed wrong, when she sees the heavy front door shift. A figure darts through, too broad-shouldered to be Matt, she thinks, then the door shuts without a noise and she’s staring into a face lit lowly for just a second before the man ducks into the shadows. 

Frank. She’s frozen there, on the sidewalk, and she knows it’s the stupidest thing for her to do so she darts off the path onto the grass that edges the church’s lot. She’s not sure if he’s seen her, and can’t spot him anymore in the darkness, and she has a moment to think - god how on earth did he just disappear like that? before he’s in front of her, finger to his lips at her impending shriek of surprise, his face familiarly blood-spattered and sporting an almost goofy grin. It doesn’t make sense, any of it, and she stares at him in confusion as he tugs her hands into his, holding her out like he wants to look at her, take stock, that grin lowering like a sail as his eyes grow more intense and how can he be so casual and what is going on and -

“Ma’am,” he says, his tone teasing. 

She relaxes, because there can’t be any danger here if he’s acting like that, but then tensing back up because honestly, what the hell? 

He must see it in her face because he rumbles an apology. ‘M’sorry. Just…seeing you like that, reminded me of…” he trails off, dropping her hands to tug at his hood in mimicry of his beggar routine. That happened forever ago, but he still remembers. So does she. “And you’re still all heart, I don’t even need to ask.” 

Something about the way he says it, almost proprietarily, pisses her off. Her eyes flash in the shadows they’ve found themselves in, pulling deeper in as a car passes and breaks the silence with loud, low bass.  “Yeah, Frank? What clued you in there?” 

She wants him to say it. Doesn’t want to have to spell it out.

His head punches back slightly, taking the blow. He changes the subject, or maybe it’s still the same one. “I came back as soon as I heard. The church’s been clean so far, surprised though. Guy like that usually wants to win where he lost.”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought too,” Karen admits. “So what’s with the blood?”

He touches his face, as if reminding himself. “Research.” 

She almost laughs. 

“Where’s Red?” He rasps out.

“This was me trying to find him,” she says and watches his face soften out of the corner of her eye.

“I’m sorry, Karen.”

She waits, staring down at where the grass, wet from the day’s watering, sticks to her sneakers.

He clears his throat. “I wasn’t there for you when he came after you the first time. Fuckin' killed me to hear about it. Killed me to know you were hurt and scared and I wasn’t around to help.”

He’s not saying the right things, but they’re still good ones. She smiles a timid smile, glances up and lets him give her what he can. She’s got a year of therapy on one Frank Castle under her belt.  “It’s okay, Frank.”

She knows he wants to say more, say something about the hospital. She pulls him in for a hug, kisses his cheek in a spot bare of blood. Maybe she’s the one that isn’t ready this time. 

“It’s okay.”

She feels his lips on her neck, a brief chapped kiss, before he pulls back and stares into her eyes like he’s trying to solve her mystery.

“I just want to find Matt, Frank. Make sure he’s okay.” 

Maybe he hears it in her voice, the unspoken later, maybe he just senses the urgency.

“Alright then, let’s go.” He grabs her hand again, pulls his hood up with another. She’s so in shock that she doesn’t move until he starts tugging. He looks back at her, casually throws back, “You’re going to do it anyway. At least I can keep an eye on you this way.”

It both pisses her off and makes her smile. Her feelings are never black and white for Frank Castle, but it definitely seems like he’s accepted some things about her, at least. She squeezes his hand that dwarfs her own, callused and warm, and follows him away from the church, into the heart of the city.

[peonierose]

How are Bryce and Luna coping during the first month of being parents, and to twins no less?

”Love Me Tender“

Book: Open Heart

Pairing: Bryce Lahela (M!MC) x Luna Auclair (F!OC)

Words: 2,428k

TW: None. Mentions of breastfeeding.

Summary: Bryce and Luna are newly minted parents and weren’t prepared of struggling to put their twins to bed. Will they succeed?

A/N: Thanks so much for your ask @liaromancewriter it inspired me for two fics actually. ”Love Me Tender“ is one of them 🥰 The Title was inspired by one of the greatest artists and hot guys who’s ever lived, Elvis Presley 🩷

Bryce

It was 4:35 in the morning, and both Lunes and I were still awake. Trying to put the twins to bed. 

I sighed. 

How‘d my life come to this? Don’t get me wrong. I love our girls more than anyone I could ever love, but getting them to sleep is a real struggle. 

We put them to bed hours ago and put them on the mobile, letting pretty stars and moons go by, but their sleep didn’t last long. 

They woke up two hours ago and won’t fall asleep.

What happened to peace and quiet? One week prior, everything was great. They didn’t mention this quick transition in the pregnancy books I read. Maybe I read the wrong books? 

Well, I guess they covered other stuff, but not what to do when your kids wake you up at 4 a.m.

Luna suddenly sits up with Kehlani and walks her around the room. With Alaia in my arms, I go and get the bunnies they got from Ethan, their godfather, hoping that’ll soothe them into sleep. 

They hang onto the bunnies for a few seconds, but they’re still fussy. It didn’t work. Alaia's little face was still red from crying. 

So maybe plans c or d could work? Damn, we could really use Keiki’s help, but she’s on a field trip with her study group. 

Luna’s voice brings me back into the moment. 

”They’re not hungry, right? We changed them, and now what?“ Luna asks while I’m holding Alaia close to my chest. As I place kisses on top of her head, her soft blonde hair smells of lavender shampoo. 

I read somewhere that babies like skin-to-skin contact. So that’s why Lunes and I are basically standing in the middle of the room in our underwear. 

”I don’t know. Honestly, I’m close to crying with them. Then it’ll be a duet.“ Luna says it with a sigh. 

I exhale a long breath I’ve been holding in because I’m frustrated too. God, I‘ve never appreciated sleep more than I do now.

”What if we show them a video with marine animals? They seemed to love that last time.“ I suggested it, and I could see Luna’s shoulder droop in relief.

”Let’s give it a try.“ Luna adds, and we walk downstairs and sit down with the twins as I turn on Disney+ and select a nature documentary about marine animals, one that’ll last for at least two and a half hours. 

Soon, both twins' eyes are glued to the screen. 

We didn’t want to start them too early on screen time, but sometimes you have to in order to function as a human being and get some rest. 

After 30 minutes or so into the documentary, I saw both their eyes drooping, and they fell asleep.

”You’re a genius.“ Luna whispers, scared to wake them up.

"Well, this genius is too scared to move.“ I say frozen in place.

Luna sighs.

”Is now a bad time to have to pee?“ She says it with a guilt tinge in her voice.

I close my eyes. 

"Oh, come on, Lunes. Couldn’t you have peed before they fell asleep? What if we wake them up? Look how long it took before they fell asleep.“ 

Luna softly moves around.

”I’ll be quick, I promise.“ She says this and gently places Kehlani on the couch. As soon as her feet hit the floor, Lani stirs and starts to cry. Rosie isn’t far behind. 

”I hope your pee is worth waking the twins over.“ I'm trying to massage their little backs, hoping it’ll soothe them. 

Twins are funny in that regard. They have a special bond, especially if they’re identical twins, like our girls. 

But the downside is that as soon as one is ill or cries, the other does as well. 

They’re creepily in sync. Hopefully, it won’t stay like this forever—the crying, I mean. I know Kehlani and Alaia will turn out wonderful.

I turn to my wonderful girls.

”Why don’t you stop crying? Daddy would really like to get some sleep. So I can wake up pretty.“ 

They look up at my words and then continue crying. 

That’s when it hits me amidst the crying. I remember when Keiki and I were little, my mom used to sing to us »Love Me Tender« by Elvis Presley; it always calmed us down. Maybe we can try it with the twins. 

As soon as Luna is back from her bathroom break, I gently take the twins into my arms.

”I think I have an idea.“ I say the idea for the song is taking root. 

We walk upstairs, and Luna eyes me skeptically. 

”You know how to brew a potion that will make them sleep for seven hours straight?“ She asks excitedly. 

I gave her a sideways look. 

"Yeah, that was a little bit unrealistic.“ She shrugs, and I laugh softly. 

”Let’s try singing »Love Me Tender« by Elvis Presley.“

”Why that song?“ She asks as we reach the twin's bedroom. 

I breathed out, and as I laid the twins in their beds, I turned towards Luna, who never looked more beautiful. 

With wild hair, just in her underwear, illuminated by the light from the hallway. 

I put a strand of her hair behind her ear, and she smiled tenderly at me. It’s these moments I treasure the most, even with the twins crying. 

I pulled her closer as I told her about the idea I had. I want to reveal a bit more about myself and my childhood, which I don’t talk about nearly enough, but I should, because whether it was good or bad, memories are important to talk about. 

”My mom used to sing that song to me and Keiki all the time. Whenever we were sick, or when we were sad and had a hard time, it just always made things a bit easier.“ I explained.

Luna‘s smile reached her tired eyes, and she cupped my cheek to give me a soft kiss. 

”Let’s give it a try. I think I’ve still got my ukulele somewhere. Let me go grab it, and we’ll try singing that song. To be honest, it’s one of my favorite songs by Elvis. He was such a hot guy and so sweet. And what a voice, my god! They just don’t make them like that anymore.“

"Hey, I’m trying to save the world, and you’re calling another man hot? Shame on you, Lunes.“

”You didn’t let me finish. They don’t make them like that anymore, but you are the exception.“ She grinned. 

”You were always my favorite.“ I smiled and slapped her butt, making her laugh out loud as she went to look for her ukulele. Her laughter was still echoing from the walls, making me grin too. 

After a minute or so, Luna came back with her pink ukulele, adorned with flowers, hearts, and moons. She sat down in front of the twin beds and played the first tunes.

”I had no idea you played the ukulele.“ I was surprised to see her play the ukulele like a pro.

”I learned it along with Hula dancing.“

“Can I get this as a late birthday present?“ I imagined her in a hula get-up. The best image ever. 

Luna sighed.

"Really, that’s where your mind went to?“ She chastised me.

”Don‘t blame me. I’m tired and horny. And I’m not sorry.“

She shook her head, grinning. Soon the first tunes of the ukulele joined with her soft voice, and the twins stopped their crying. Too fascinated by what’s going on to keep crying. 

Yes, I pump my fist in the air; it looks as if the plan worked. Luna and I fist-bumped each other because our plan turned out better than expected. 

As the last note echoed in their bedroom, they soon fell asleep, and it looked as if we could go and catch some sleep too. 

”Thank God for our parents, who had good ideas.“

Luna nodded. 

We put on the mobile with the moon and stars spinning around softly and didn’t close the door entirely as we went to our bedroom. 

When we were lying down in bed, Luna turned to me, and I put an arm around her to pull her closer to me. 

”Let me guess you have a million questions.“ I said, and she elbowed me in the side. I laughed and kissed her on top of her head. 

”You miss her, don’t you?“

I don’t even try to act as if I don‘t know who she’s referring to.

"Yeah, I do, more than I care to admit.“ I turn around, so we’re lying face-to-face. 

”Maybe you need some love me tender too.“ Luna says this as she’s leaning into me. 

”That would be nice.“ I smiled against her lips.

Two days later...

Luna

We’re both leaning on the kitchen counter, bleary-eyed, and with our eyes half closed. 

”This is the second time in a row we haven’t slept.“ I mumbled. 

Bryce doesn't even look up from his coffee. 

”I mean, we knew this was going in, but it still stinks sometimes.“ 

I nodded and almost missed my mug in front of me.

”Damn. I never appreciated coffee as much as I do now. I love our kids, but I’d give my left kidney for two hours of sleep. Not even night shifts are this bad.“ 

”Come on, we'll get through this.“ I tried to sound more cheerful but just ended up sounding tired. But from the smile tugging at Bryce’s lips, I could still make him smile, which is a win in my book.

I’m about to take another sip from my juice since I‘m nursing when our doorbell rings, and I just grumble. 

”I’ll go get it.“ I said, and Bryce just mumbled incoherent words. 

I opened the front door, seeing my cousin Skyler, or Sky for short, stand in front of me.

”Good morning, sunshine.“ He looked well rested, with no dark circles under his smooth tan skin. His piercing dark blue eyes shone as if he sprang from the youth fountain. It’s so unfair how good he looked compared to my tired self. 

I groaned again and shielded my eyes from the glaring sun coming inside our house.

I stepped aside, and Sky walked in. 

”Is it a good morning? Huh. It’s already morning, and the sun is shining. Gosh, I’ve lost all feeling for what time it actually is or what day.“

Sky turned my way and only raised his eyebrows.

”You’re being weird.“

I sighed and joined Bryce in the kitchen. I grinned as Bryce held on to his steaming coffee mug, half asleep. 

”I came to the rescue. I thought I’d have to send a search party after your radio silence.“ 

”Please make him stop saying words.“ Bryce groaned.

”Come on, I’m good with kids, and I’m offering to help.“ Sky grinned. 

”So they sent you?“

”B!“ I exclaimed.

”Look, man. I’m really sorry. I’m just so fucking tired.“ Bryce sighed.

”Me too.“ I joined in while taking a sip of my mango and pineapple juice. 

"Yeah, Luna too.“ Bryce said while smiling tiredly. 

”No hard feelings. It’s all good. You‘ll get a free pass. This once. I know mom and dad struggled with us; you know, we're triplets, so I thought I’d help you out.“ Sky explained. 

Bryce’s eyes were tired from being up all night helping me change the twins and trying to make them fall asleep. 

We’re exhausted, and it’s only been four months since we brought the twins home. 

Sky looked from me to Bryce.

”You guys look as if you’ve partied all night. And it was a weird theme party.“ He teased. 

"Yeah, if you count changing, breastfeeding, and getting the twins to sleep, and it takes almost all night? Yeah, then we partied real hard.“ I sighed.

And then I added. 

"Damn, breastfeeding really hurts. Who knew? I really hope the pain lessens a bit.“

”I’m even too tired to make a dirty joke about breasts and make you feel better.“ Bryce sighed and smiled softly but tiredly.

”I don’t need to know about your…uhh…anatomy. Or your female body parts.“ Sky winced. 

”Who’s being weird now?“ I smirked.

”Fair.“

We were all startled when we heard the baby monitor on the kitchen counter squeak. 

Both Bryce and I groaned.

Sky smiled.

”You know what? Why don’t I check up on the little angels? While you guys do whatever it is you do, make out or something.“

”We’re way too tired to make out.“ Bryce and I said it at the same time. 

The fog in my brain lifted, and it hit me. 

”Wait, are you here to babysit?“ 

Sky shrugged. 

"Yeah, why not? I have the next two days off, so I thought I’d take over, and you can go and do whatever it is you’re doing.“

”You’re an angel, and I love you.“ I smiled and hugged him tight. Sky grinned and hugged me back. 

Yep, he’s my favorite cousin. At least right now. 

”She doesn’t mean it.“ Bryce commented with a mischievous glint in his eyes. I grinned, so that’s where Lani and Rosie got it from. 

”Stop being mean.“ I said this to Bryce without any real heat behind my words. 

”Sorry. If you’re true to your word, I’ll go take a nap.“

I stopped hugging Sky for a minute to give B a look.

”Not even showering?“

”I love my bed more than my shower right now.“

"Well, I don’t. So let’s hit the shower.“ 

Sky looked from me to Bryce.

”You are weirding me out. I’ll go look after the twins.“ 

”Thanks Sky.“

”You got it.“ He yelled. 

Bryce and I walked outside to our shower while Bryce mumbled and was grumpy until the water hit his face. 

When we came back from our shower and were settled in our bed, Bryce checked the baby monitor, but the monitor was quiet. It looks as if Sky is a wizard when it comes to calming down kids. 

”It’s so quiet.“ I turned to Bryce.

”What did we do before we had kids? Look at me, sounding pathetic.“

”You don’t sound, and you aren’t pathetic. It’s a new routine for us. And I guess we just have to find our balance.“

We both nodded.

Bryce drew circles on my skin, and I curled up into him, and seconds later we were already asleep while holding hands. 

Life is good when you’re with the people you love. Whether you’re blood-related or not, cherish those moments. 

[mygoo]

I'm going to outlive my son. It's the saddest realization for any parent, but it's one I can't deny anymore. See, my son is fat. No really, faaaaaat. Take whatever you're thinking in your head and double it, heck triple it even and you're probably still thinking too small.

His mother and I tried for years to get him active, to get him interested in the outdoors, sports, heck any physical activity, but the only physical activity he cared about were ones that ended in food.

We tried at first to guide him into making better decisions. Surely as he matured he'd realize that all the food and all the weight wasn't worth it, but the gentle treatment didn't work. We never wanted to be strict parents, but we decided that drastic measures had to be taken when he reached his teens with his weight still climbing. We rid the house of anything unhealthy and kept an eye on his eating like a hawk and he finally started dropping weight to our slight comfort.

Looking back now I see how short-sighted we were. It's one thing to control your kid, but he won't be a kid forever. At some point he's going to need independence, a job, a car, all the facets of a normal adult life and hopefully someone to share it with. Out on his own he could eat as much as he wanted, when he wanted, especially once we found out his first job was not what he originally told us, but a job at one of the local fast food joints.

Slowly at first, but surely his weight started creeping up again. He'd bounce around between jobs depending on what cuisine he was especially feeling and how long they'd keep him on before realizing how much he was literally eating into their profits. We'd failed. Just like his youth anything he did was motivated by food. We were all out of ideas. Time passed by in this stalemate, the only needle moving faster being the one on our bathroom scale.

We had thought about kicking him out, but at this point I don't think he could even live on his own. He had every weight-related medical condition in the book, every one a missed wake up call to turn back. Things that people in their 50s would start worrying about, not someone less than half their age.

Getting on disability took away the last reason for him to ever get off his copious ass, so it's no surprise that his mobility vaporized shortly thereafter. Some days I wonder if he'll see 30. It'll surely be a miracle of medical science if he does.

I couldn't tell if it was a blessing or a curse the day I found his online persona, through the further I looked, the more I gravitated towards the latter. It finally made everything make quasi-sense, a reason for the way he lived his life, if you can even call it that, but it did so in such a disgusting, heartbreaking way. He catalogues his gains to a sadistic audience hungry to watch him blow up. He talks about how much he loves his weight, shockingly especially its side-effects, reveling in being out of breath simply from rolling over in bed. The post where he declared himself immobile is proudly pinned to the top of his page, racking up comments of support and congratulations from the people feeding into his addiction, both figuratively and literally with constant food deliveries I had long-assumed he had ordered for himself. It's all so fucking disgusting, and it's something I will never tell my wife, something I will take to my grave long after his.

As far as I'm concerned, he's already gone. He was lost 100s of pounds ago. There's no son in that void of a room, just a mound of flesh, endlessly growing until the day it doesn't. Goodbye, son. I hope you really love all your flab like you say you do, because it's all you got, and there's a ton of it.

[thebibutterflyao3]

Day 6 Prompt: Heat @rosekiller-microfic

March Daily Series - 995 words

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Barty shook his head clear and refocused on the mostly empty road ahead of him. Luckily, it wasn’t busy in the off-season. Not many were foolish enough to travel to the coast in the winter, especially in a car without heat.

The sun mocked him through a cloudless sky, bouncing absurdly cheerful light off of the hood and directly into his eyes. He fumbled for the sunglasses tucked into his visor and shoved them on his face. Relaxing a bit, he leaned back and grabbed his phone. Barty rolled the scratched-up silver case on its edge over and over on his thigh. When the screen woke up mid-spin, he glanced at it hopefully.

No notifications. Of course.

By the time he reached the signs for the Prince of Wales bridge, Barty was seriously considering a detour into the river. If he wasn’t already regretting his life choices, and there weren’t a massive green metal barrier, the decision would be so easy.

Best not to start trusting myself now.

Barty inhaled deeply as he stared at the cables rising to the outline of an enormous letter “h” that straddled M4’s six lanes. Bridges fucked with his head, especially long ones running over water like this. Movie scenes of bridges cracking open like a fresh, crisp baguette toyed with his mind.

Breathe. Just breathe.

The moment his front tires passed the shoreline to England’s soil, Barty deflated. He was one hour in and already drained physically, mentally, and emotionally. Any clarity this road trip brought him earlier was lost to him now. He just wanted to crash onto his crappy sofa and stay there. Not moving for a week sounded so bloody good, but he was expected at work tomorrow.

When the opening bars of Never Let You Go drifted through his speakers, Barty tensed again. The chorus of this one hit a little too close to home.

Suddenly, his screen lit up as his mobile buzzed against his denim-covered thigh. Evan’s face appeared on his screen and Barty jerked the wheel as he screeched to a halt on the shoulder and narrowly avoided scraping the barrier. He fumbled with his phone as his stomach lurched violently.

“Rosie?”

The other end was silent except for the steady tap tap tap of Evan’s rings against the phone he was holding. Barty knew that sound intimately, but not the tempo. Evan was agitated.

His heart beat doubled and his chest clenched in panic. This wasn’t good. He didn’t know how it could get worse, but it was about to and the dread was overwhelming.

Shite shite shite!

“Before you hang up…I’m sor-sorry I didn’t tell you about Regulus. When I realised that you were friends, I shou-should have.”

Barty’s ears thrummed with his own rapid heart beat as he strained to listen for a response. After another long silence, he released a ragged breath and added, “And I’m sorry for going after your sister yesterday. I was….that doesn’t matter. I’m sober now and I hate myself for acting like that.”

“That makes two of us.”

His heart plummeted to the floorboards. “Please don’t say that, Rosie. I swear—”

“Don’t call me that,” Evan said. His voice was flat and clipped.

“Oh, right.” A chill ran down Barty’s spine and he struggled to find the words he’d practised in case Evan actually answered one of his calls. “Evan, I—”

“Not that either.”

Barty closed his eyes and repressed the urge to beg for forgiveness. There was no hope of that in Evan’s tone. This was going to hurt, he could sense it. The hammer was already pulled back and the trigger was twitching.

“Okay. I understand.”

“Good, because we are nothing to each other,” Evan snapped cruelly. “I don’t want anything to do with you, Crouch, and if you come near my sister again—”

“I won’t!” Barty cried out, shaking with the effort to hold himself together. “Please, please don’t—”

The line went dead.

“No! No no no nonono!” He quickly tapped on Evan’s picture to call back. “Please pick up! Please, please, please.”

A robotic voice informed him that his call could not be completed as dialed. His hands trembled as he texted Evan, pleading with him. The text didn’t go through. Barty stared at his screen in disbelief.

“He-He’s…I can’t…oh fuck.”

His body crumpled against the steering wheel as a shudder rushed through him. He was numb from head to toe. The hole carved out of his chest deepened until it hit curled his vertebrae. No thoughts, no emotions.

Moving on instinct alone, Barty opened his car door, stumbled out of the road, and collapsed before he emptied his stomach. His limbs quivered beneath his weight until he flopped onto his back. He swiped at his mouth and groaned at the sharp burn that raced up his throat.

He rolled away from the open car door and forced himself to push upright. The endless expanse of the river where it joined the sea spread out before him. Barty stared unblinkingly at the waves as they lapped the shore, rhythmic and repetitive.

This is it. Rock-fucking-bottom.

A hollow laugh burst from his chest, but quickly died out. It hurt to laugh. Hell, it hurt to breathe!

He hauled himself to his feet, then stepped unsteadily toward the edge where the tall barrier ended. With slow, measured steps, he climbed the short rail and headed down the slope toward the shore. Barty studied the muddy, frigid water as his boots sank with every step into the soft soil. The height of the bridge created a terrifying vantage of the water, but from here it looked tame.

Water was cleansing, that was a common belief. A refreshing drink for a parched throat, moisture for dry skin, and the perfect conduit for soap. Standing here before a river wide enough to swallow an entire city whole was humbling.

I would only make short-lived splash.

With a short burst of adrenaline, Barty ran forward, threw his arm back, and flung his mobile into the river. It disappeared beneath the waves without a sound. No splash, no interruption.

Inconsequential.

Next Part>>>

[beaker1636]

A Love Reunited - Ricky Smut/Fluff

A/N: I don’t know why my mind went towards a sappy fluffy cute smut but it did so hopefully you enjoy this anon! I didn’t edit this so they’re maybe some typos, also I upload via mobile so if the formatting is ever off I am sorry! Enjoy!

Edit: for some reason tumblr won’t let me add the imagine below the photo so it’s all wonky. Sorry!

Sighing you clock out at work and make your way out the door, extra glad it is finally the weekend after a long week, but also a little disappointed to be making your way home to your apartment alone. Your boyfriend Ricky is away on tour and unfortunately there is still about a week left before he can be home.

You decide to send him a quick message before you start the drive home, letting him know that you are thinking of him and miss him.

When you pull into your driveway you notice that you have a message so you take your phone out as you walk towards your front door.

“Good thing we got home early then,” you read.

You quickly unlock your front door when you got the message, looking up to immediately gasp. Wasting no time you make your way to where he sits on your couch, sit down on his lap facing him and bury your face in his neck. His arms snake around you, holding you to him tightly as you both sit there in the silence for a couple minutes to embrace and take comfort in being together again.

“Something came up and the tour ended a week early, so I decided to surprise you after work today,” he says softly in your ear, not wanting to let go of you as the two months you were apart has taken a toll on not just you but him as well.

“I missed you so much,” you mumble, trying not to embarrass yourself by happy crying.

The timer in the oven goes off, forcing you to separate from eachother.

“Go sit at the table, I will have dinner out for us in a minute,” he says kissing your forehead as he slips by you and into your kitchen.

You make your way to the dining room table ad smile when you see that there is a beautiful bouquet of flowers itting on it, and candles are lit around the room giving a romantic feel towards the meal, which melts your heart at the effort that he made to do something for you despite the fact you know he must be tired from the tour.

Rick comes out with your plates and then heads back into the kitchen to grab you both a couple of glasses of wine before he takes a seat next to you at the table.

“You didn’t have to do all of this for me, I know you must be exhausted after such a long tour,” you say as you start to eat the wonderful meal that he has cooked.

“I wanted to do something nice for you when I got back because this was the first tour we’ve been through together and I know it is a lot for you as well. I figured we have a nice at home date tonight and then we can spend the weekend being lazy and lying around together. After your week you probably need it too,” he responds back, reaching over to lightly squeeze your thigh under the table.

The two of you continue to eat, Rick telling you all about the fun and weird moments of the tour. Most of this he has already told you during your facetime chats but you still gladly listen to him as its been so long since you have heard him talk in person.

When you both finish eating you move closer to him so that you can give him a kiss, giggling when he pulls you out of your chair and onto his lap, not expecting the sudden playful moment.

“I’m so glad you are home, I missed you so much. I know you would never do anything but just knowing you meet so many fans makes me anxious, you never know what they could do or if you would meet someone better,” you admit shyly as you start to lightly play with his hair, loving the silky feel of it in your hands.

“Baby, listen to me. I don’t want anyone else. Noone comes close to you or how I feel about you,” he brushes your cheek with his thumb, which makes you look at him and making eye contact.

He leans down to gently kiss you again, but this time feels a lot different than any the two of you have ever shared with eachother. You can’t place why but you don’t question it, quickly giving in to the feeling and losing all sense of what is happening around you.

You can feel him smile in the kiss which makes you smile as well. Lightly Rick tugs on your lip with his teeth, your tongues lazily meeting. You can’t help but love how soft and gentle everything is right now. These slow sweet moments together are rare and you haven’t been able to have on in awhile.

His hands trail down your sides before landing on our ass and resting there for a moment before he pulls his lips away from yours just slightly.

“Why don’t we move this to our bed? You can show me how much you missed me,” he whispers, his breath ghosts across your lips making you shudder.

Rather than answering you get up off his lap and grab his hand, leading him out of the dining room and to your bedroom.

Both of you lay down on your sides facing eachother, lips quickly colliding with eachothers again only this time is more heated, both of you getting needy for contact that you have been missing.

One of his hands is resting on your hip as the other is in your hair, holding you closely to him. Slowly he pushs on you, letting you know that he wants you to lay down on your back which you happily do.

His hands teasingly rub the skin of your stomach which is now exposed from your shirt riding up slightly. Trailing his hands softly up your torso until they make their way back down towards the hem of your shirt, which he grabs and slides off of you, your bra quickly going with it while you blush.

The two of you have only been together like this a handful of times before he had to leave for the tour, so despite wanting it you still can’t help but feel shy when he looks at your body.

He gives you another quick soft kiss that is over before you can register that it had begun before they lightly start to ghost from your ear down to your throat. At the same time one of his hands moves to cup a breast, lightly kneading it before starting to roll your nipple between his thumb and forefinger. Even after all this time he still takes satisfaction in teasing you.

He know that he finds your sensitive spot on your throat when you gasp and tilt your head allowing him more access to continue leaving marks along the path, because you know that he has to be at that point.

Reaching inbetween the both of you you decide to unbutton his jeans, sliding them down slightly along with his boxers.

He adjusts so that he can kick his them off the rest of the way before his lips slowly start to trail down your chest, continuing to leave marks as you reach down to slowly stroke him, wanting to drive him crazy and tease him as much as he was doing to you. You know you succeeded when he lets out a barely audible groan which makes you giggle.

His lips wrap around one of your nipples, making you gasp and shift at the sensitive feeling, your jeans feeling a bit too constricting now.

He notices you shift and moves to unbutton them, pulling away from you slightly so that you can lift your hip, allowing him to remove them as well as your panties in one quick motion before sitting at your side. He reaches over you so that he can rub your clit but you grab his wrist and stop him.

“No, I-I just want to feel you tonight, please?” you beg, craving the closeness and the connection that you have been lacking out on with him.

His shifts so that he is leaning over the top of you again, his lips finding yours gently as he teases you slightly with the tip against your clit. When you give him an annoyed grunt he finally gives in and slips inside of you, both of you letting out a groan at the sudden feeling of pleasure that is coursing through you.

Hi thrusts get a little bit harder as he goes but he doesn’t get anywhere near as rough with you as he always has in the past. He wants to savor this moment with you and enjoy this feeling. He also feels the change between this act and the other times the two of you have been together.

Pulling away he locks his eyes with you as his hands find their way to your waist, flipping the two of you so that you are now on top.

“Ride me baby, fuck just like that,” he groans as you begin to rock your hips against his, you being inpatient and going a bit quicker than he was when he was on top and leading the two of you.

Knowing that he won’t last long himself after not getting any for a few month he reaches between the two of you, starting to toy with your clit which makes you look away from him, arching your back at the level it adds to everything.

He can feel you starting to clench around him, hear you letting out breathy moans that let him know that you are getting quick and when you do cum rather abruptly he is right behind you, spilling inside of you a couple seconds later.

When you come down you share a couple lazy kisses before you finally pull yourself off him and go to your bathroom to quickly clean yourself up.

When you return you quickly put your pajamas on, and notice that he has slipped into his boxers and is laying on your bed waiting for you to join him. You do so, laying your head on his chest and wrapping an arm around him while he begins to lightly run a hand along your back. Both of you sit there quietly, processing what has changed between the two of you but not wanting to be the one to break the silence.

A few moments later Rick decides to be the one to break it, “Being away from you like this for so long made me realize something… well that and one of Chris’ weird peptalks helped me figure it out too,” Rick says softly, still rubbing your back softly.

You move so that you are looking up at him,” Hmm?” you ask.

“This is probably not the best time to say it, and totally is not what I planned to do but I want to say it. I love you, more than that I’m in love with you. I’ve never mised someone so much while gone, or worried about a girlfriend like this,” he slowly stops talking when he realises he is rambling.

“Rick, I love you too. I just was too nervous to say it and freaked out thinking it would freak you out saying it only four months into our relations,” you admit and then before giving him a second kiss lightly.

Suddenly realization hits you and you pull away with a weird look on your face.

“Wait, you confided in this with my brother before you did me? No wonder he has been really weird lately when we’ve talked and asking how things are going with you,” you say giggling slightly.

You lay back down, curling up in his side again, content to just stay like that the rest of the night.

“He confronted me about it, I will explain later, lets just go to bed,” he says, sounding annoyed.

You decide to just let the subject go but totally plan to ask him about it in the morning curious on what that could have meant.

The two of you continue to catch up on everything you haven’t had a chance to with one another before you finally start to fall asleep, feeling loved and cared for, more content in your relationship than ever.

[beefromanoff]

Project Mockingbird Ch. 4

summary: lots of testing to find out what's going on with Charlotte...hopefully a breakthrough?

pairing: Bucky Barnes x OC

author's note: let me know what you think! thanks for reading, xox!

tag list: @bangtanxberm (let me know if you want to be added <3)

chapter list

_________________________________________________________

The first thing I felt was a pounding in my head. I wondered if I was back in Vegas, if I’d overdone it the night before, the bright lights searing through my eyelids. Groaning, I remembered I couldn’t get hungover. 

I shifted, trying to prop myself up on my elbows without opening my eyes to the horrific fluorescents above me. Like a knife in my gut, memories rushed back to me. 

Him. Rage. Darkness. Nothing. 

Shit. 

I knew this was a possibility, but I’d hoped against hope that it was just a fearful thought. It had been decades since I’d seen him, and those weren’t exactly stress-free circumstances. I’d thought that after so much time, after being away from HYDRA…but I was wrong. Everything they did to me was still very much present. The instincts they’d drilled into me took precedent even over my own thoughts and desires. 

The second thing I felt was a shocking amount of mobility around my arms. My eyes flew open. I was in a hospital bed, still in my workout clothes. My shoes had been tossed to the side of the room. The walls were light gray, sleek. Slightly less sterile-feeling than the average hospital, but still made my skin crawl. I was alone in the room, but I could hear the murmur of voices just outside the door. My heart was pounding in my ears and reflected by the erratic beeping of the monitor to my left. I looked down to see a few wires protruding from the collar of my shirt. 

With a whoosh, the door slid open to reveal a small crowd. I recognized Natasha and Steve, someone I recognized as Tony Stark standing a few feet behind them with another dark haired man. 

Nat stepped into the room, a smile on her face but her whole body tense. “How you feeling, hot stuff?” 

“Where are the restraints?” I set my jaw, staring at my hands. 

“What do you mean?” 

“I just proved I can’t be trusted, can’t control myself,” My voice was low. “I attacked one of you. I should be restrained.” 

Steve looked at the ground, eyes clouded. Tony looked up from the tablet he was holding, observing the room. It was the man next to him who spoke first. 

“I know a thing or two about not being able to control yourself, trust yourself.” He was a little skittish, but seemed genuine. “You’re in more captivity in your head than you are here. We aren’t in the business of keeping prisoners. You won’t be restrained as long as you’re fighting something that you didn’t ask to have done to you.” 

I lifted my eyes to look at him, giving him a slight nod of thanks. 

“Touchy-feely stuff aside - I’m Tony, by the way - I do think we should work out where this is coming from.” He stepped forward and plopped down on the edge of my bed, surprising me with his casual attitude. “I assume you don’t exactly have the warm fuzzies towards labs or doctors, but I promise that Dr. Banner and I aren’t here to do anything but help.” Tony gestured to the man I didn’t know, who nodded. 

I looked at Natasha for reassurance before responding. “What do you mean…help?” 

“Well, to be frank, there’s clearly something different about you.” Tony laid the tablet on his lap and looked straight at me. “We just don’t know the specifics. Without that, we can’t do much except throw you into a chokehold when you get a little murderous on us.”

“Tony,” Natasha warned. 

“What he’s saying is that we can…investigate. We can work with you to figure out what was done to cause that episode you had, and hopefully prevent it from happening in the future.” The man, Dr. Banner, explained. 

“Is that even possible?” 

This time, it was Steve who answered me. “It was with Bucky.” I snapped my eyes to him. “He had a similar…he struggled at first too. For him, it was trigger words. They were programmed into him, anytime he heard them he would lose himself until we could-”

“Until we could knock him out.” Natasha cut him off, speaking matter-of-factly. I appreciated the lack of sugar coating. 

“But…you were able to fix him? Stop the words from having an effect?” I tried to stop the hope snaking its way into my heart, anything to push back against the fear of my own lack of control. 

“Yes.” Steve smiled. “He hasn’t had an episode in years. Any anger he feels now is totally under his own volition.” 

I nodded slowly, thinking through my options. I couldn’t exactly say no, keep living here for free, and run the risk of attacking another one of their friends.

“When can we start?” I grit my teeth and looked at Tony and Dr. Banner, who glanced at each other. 

“We can, if you’re up for it, we can start today?” Dr. Banner shrugged. 

“As soon as possible. Please.” 

_____________

“Call me Bruce, seriously.” He smiled, handing me a cup of water that I graciously chugged. 

We’d been working for the past twelve hours, according to the last time I saw the clock. The day had come and gone, judging by the sun beam peaking around the window shade in my room that had slowly given way to night. It wasn’t like I had anywhere else to be, and I could tell that Tony and Dr. Ban-Bruce weren’t the type to put a project down when they hadn’t had a breakthrough yet. 

 First, we did the standard labs. Blood work, blood pressure, retinal scans. Then a few more in-depth tests, an MRI and a CAT scan to give them a better look at what was happening inside me. 

Right now, I was hooked up to a machine that mapped out my brain in a three-dimensional, floating model in front of us. I sat on the edge of the bed, legs dangling. Electrodes were stuck to my head, neck, and chest, wires going every which way. Natasha had lent me a hair tie to secure my hair in a loose bun on top of my head, making it easier to decorate me with the sensors. After a few hours, Natasha and Steve had left to go eat. It was slow work, admittedly. A few empty coffee cups were strewn across the side table in my room, one having toppled on the floor as a result of Bruce not-so-gently setting it down. 

“How about this one?” Tony clicked a button and brought up a hologram of James Barnes, three dimensional in front of me. He was in full armor and mask, holding a hefty gun and looking around for someone. His eyes were cold, distant. His hair was longer then than it was when I saw him out by the lake. Now, it was long enough to tuck behind his ears but not nearly down to his shoulders like this rendering showed.

“Nope. Nothing.” The model of my brain showed nothing beyond the standard yellow flecks of electricity as I spoke, watching the hologram stalk around the room. 

“Well, kid, I think there’s only one thing left for us to try.” He sighed, clicking the hologram off. “Clearly, the reaction you’re having isn’t strictly visual. It has to do with Barnes, but we can rule out the trigger being anything electronic. We’ve tried photos, videos, audio recordings, and now holograms, nothing. It’s not causing you to go all haywire.” 

“What’s the next step?” I asked cautiously. 

“The next step would be live-stimulus monitoring…we’d-”

Tony cut Bruce off. “We’d bring Barnes in here and see how you react.” 

“I don’t-” 

“Before you say no,” Bruce interrupted, holding his hand out. “We would take precautions. We can restrain you if you prefer, but we don’t have to. We can give you an IV with a fast-acting sedative at the ready. We’ll be prepared if you have an…adverse reaction.” 

I swallowed, my heart already speeding up. “If you say so.” I was shocked at how calm I’d been able to stay this whole time. The kindness of the team combined with my paralyzing fear of having another episode allowed me to shove my anxiety down, at least for the time being. My desire to be free of these mental shackles overpowered my deep-seated fear of being experimented on, prodded and poked. 

After we’d discussed what precautions I was comfortable with (and the answer was all of them, please) they left me alone in the room with a soft-spoken female lab tech. I’d stripped off my jacket so she could start my IV, forcing myself to think of anything else to avoid the wave of anxiety that came from needles and nurses and everything in between. When it was done and taped down to my arm, she smiled and slid the doors back open. Bruce explained to me what they were looking for in my brain waves and how it would help them figure out what the issue was, but he sounded a million miles away. I was already getting hot, nervous. No one expects being brainwashed and conditioned to kill to be so embarassing. The shame from my earlier episode still sat heavily in my gut, I wasn’t sure if I was ready for two more people to witness my lack of control. 

“Ms. Rossi? Are you ready?” The tech spoke gently, positioned by my wrist with heavy-duty restraints sitting open. I nodded and allowed her to set my arm inside and fasten the straps tightly. Once my left arm was all but immobile, strapped to my side, she scurried over to the right side. 

When my arms were pinned to the bed, flat at my sides, the tech was poised in the corner with her hand over the button to release the sedative into my veins, I took a shaky, deep breath. 

“I’m ready.” 

Bruce nodded and tapped his tablet. I heard footsteps coming from down the hall, a few sets. I matched the cadence in my head, determining one set to be Steve’s and one Tony’s. That left the third as the other half to our little experiment. Two sets of footsteps trailed off, hovering a few feet away, out of view. The third set, slow and methodical, approached the opening to my room. 

“Come on in, Sergeant Barnes.” Bruce called, eyes flicking from me to the doorway to the model of my brain. 

In two heavy steps, he turned the corner and came into view. James, Sergeant Barnes, whatever he went by - stood right in front of me. His lip was split, eye already beginning to yellow around the outside as a result of his accelerated healing. His dark hair was tucked behind his ears. Regarding me warily, he took another step in the room. 

I sucked in a breath, trying to resist the inevitable but knowing it was necessary for the research. A white hot pain seared through my head, making me cry out. When I opened my eyes, I saw James wincing. 

He must remember this. 

For a moment, that sobering thought helped keep the rage from overtaking me. I spoke through clenched teeth, keenly aware of the adrenaline coursing through me. 

“I’m…so…sorry,” I forced myself to meet his eyes, resisting the blackout so hard that I felt a blood vessel burst in my right eye. The last thing I saw before I succumbed to the darkness was a pair of sad blue eyes on mine. 

––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

“I’m…so…sorry,” Charlotte ground out, eyes locked on Bucky. A few strands of her dark hair were stuck to her forehead, coated with sweat as she fought the brainwashing. When she couldn’t stand it any longer, her eyes hardened. The straining on her face relaxed as she somehow shifted to something inhuman, something predatory. 

A low growl rose in her throat as she attempted to lunge at Bucky, thrashing at the restraints. Her back arched and the force of her effort rocked the entire bed.

“Administer the sedative,” Bruce commanded. “Now!” 

The lab tech nodded, pressing her thumb down on the button, releasing the drip into Charlotte’s IV. In the forty seconds that had elapsed between when Bucky stepped into the room and when the sedative sent her into a slump against the bed, Charlotte had already yanked so hard on her restraints that she’d made her wrists raw. There was a brief moment of silence after she went limp, all of them taking a moment to collect themselves. 

“You okay?” Steve stepped around the corner, putting a hand on Bucky’s shoulder. 

“Fine.” His jaw was clenched, less out of fear for the attempted attack but because he so vividly remembered the inability to trust his own mind, to act out of his own control. “That help?”

“I’d say so.” Tony looked incredulous as he raised a hand and turned the hologram in the air. What was formerly a mild, golden glow had shifted to a bright, intense red woven throughout the model. 

“This is…insane.” Bruce was slightly open-mouthed, observing as Tony moved the rendering. 

“What does this mean? Is this what you expected?” Steve frowned. 

“What it looks like, I mean, initially…there’s some kind of conditioning at play here. Whether it’s optical or olfactory…something about Bucky’s physical presence invokes this extreme, visceral reaction. It literally changes her brain chemistry, rewrites her neural passages. You can see that all the areas that fire when she’s functioning normally, when she’s thinking or feeling something physical, or experiencing an emotion…all those are dormant.”

Steve and Bucky exchanged a glance, both of their brows furrowed. Crossing his arms across his chest, Steve opened his mouth to speak before Tony cut him off. 

“Correct me if I’m wrong, I’m no neuroscience expert, unless you count the fifteen minutes of internet research I did roughly six hours ago,” He ran a hand along his jawline. “But it sounds like you’re saying they conditioned, programmed her to override all sense of self, consequence, and pain in order to stick to their…objective.” 

Bruce nodded grimly. “It’s similar to what different countries did to soldiers in wars throughout history…give them drugs that suppress their decision making skills, inhibit their ability to feel pain. It allowed them to fight longer and often, fight through otherwise debilitating injuries or fatigue. That, combined with the right propaganda or indoctrination, can make an individual follow orders almost blindly…and definitely to their own detriment. Whatever HYDRA did to her, they took that concept and put it on a 10x multiplier. Plus, it’s not dependent on her continually receiving some drug. They literally programmed this into her.” 

Bucky let out a deep breath, stepping out of the room and looking up at the ceiling. Watching his friend, Steve couldn’t decide what to ask first. Luckily, Natasha chose that moment to make her re-entrance. 

“So what do we do now?” she crossed her arms and leaned against the wall. 

“Nice of you to join us, Romanoff. Conveniently after any and all risk has subsided.” Tony raised his eyebrows. 

“I figured surely two super soldiers, Iron Man and the Hulk had it covered. Plus, if that failed, you have Maddie.” She winked at the lab tech, still standing nervously in the corner. 

“To answer your question,” Bruce interrupted, making rapid notes on his laptop. “I think we can fix it, relatively painlessly. Well…easily. Basically, we need to narrow down if the trigger is happening due to something visual or olfactory, her sense of smell. My guess, based on the fact that there was no effect from video footage or even holograms, is that it’s olfactory.” 

“And if that’s the case?” Steve was still frowning, watching as Bucky slowly made his way back to the group. 

“We would need to sever the olfactory nerve.” Bruce grimaced. “That’s why I wouldn’t say it’s entirely…painless. But it should be quick and effective.” 

A groan from the bed interrupted them. All heads snapped to see Charlotte beginning to stir for the second time that day. Instinctively, Steve grabbed the sleeve of Bucky’s jacket and yanked him towards the door. They’d made it to the end of the hall before she’d even taken her second breath. 

“D’work?” She slurred, eyelids heavy but fighting to open. 

“It did.” Nat sat down on the edge of the bed, putting a hand on Charlotte’s leg. “You did great.” 

“How do you feel?” Bruce gestured to the lab tech to remove the restraints and they both set to work freeing her wrists. A band of raw skin circled her arms where she’d fought so violently. As soon as the restraints were set to the side, Maddie scurried out to get a bottle of ointment and q-tips to medicate the wounds. 

“Never better,” She raised a hand to rub her temples, stopping when she felt all the wires still attached. Bruce nodded at Natasha and they both began gently tugging the electrodes from her face and chest.

“I think we got what we need. It’s been a long day, why don’t we stop for today and pick up in the morning. You should get some rest.” He smiled gently.

“Good call, Banner.” Tony stood, turning to Charlotte. “If you want, just this once, I’ll let you raid my personal snack stash. That’s where all the really good stuff is kept.” 

She chuckled, leaning back. “Mmm, take a rain check. I feel like I got hit by a truck.”

“We used a pretty heavy dose on the sedative…even with your heightened metabolism, it’ll take a bit for it to completely leave your system.” Bruce’s eyes were apologetic. 

“Better safe than…” She waved her hand, a yawn cutting her off. 

“Alright boys, beat it.” Natasha stood. “Char, I’ll be back first thing in the morning with a breakfast spread like you wouldn’t believe. Sleep it off, it’s late anyways.” 

Charlotte smiled lazily as her lids began to droop again. “S’a plan.”

“Sweet dreams, kiddo.” Tony’s voice was the last thing she heard before drifting back off to sleep. 

[atlaslego]

🚨New MOC WIP🚨

Getting some inspiration from a fabulous artwork makes me want to adopt the colour combinations on MOC mech.

I will say this Type (still thinking about a name) is a crossover between Type Abyssus & Astro. I do intend to use a little new ankle system to the connecting and mobility issue I had from Abyssus. But more importantly, lacking a lot of red elements is a big challenge. First, I will have to break down another Atlas to acquire some red. Second, I think I need to buy some red pieces to make it work, but a lot of useful pieces are not Bestsellers🥹🥹.

I am also thinking should I change the colour of the head? Red is cool but somehow too strong 😂😂, but if I change to white, the visual would not look strong enough 🤔🤔. Would love to hear your thoughts!

So hopefully it won’t take too long to finish the project! (Art inspo in the Story)!

[thetwilightroadtonightfall]

I come here with some questions bc you must have them in your head hopefully

Overmorrow/Objects of Affection spoilers ahead

Give me the ceremony details, i need to know what kind of union they had, was it simple and with close people to them? What kind of altire they used? Time of day?

Maybe it is too much but I wanna see what they chose for that day and your vision of that moment ahejdjbsjsjsjw

In other points, what kind of expression do you see when Ephemer reads the part about Blaine in the book? He is going slowly through it and part of me wants to know how you would describe the moment.

Now, not spoilers stuff but doodle comentary of the doodle pages you shared. I saw the doodle before finishing reading, and I had the biggest wheeze with the Ephemer hopeless romantic take on the handkerchief bc of Charis expression it was gold but then I got sad bc of couse you gave Ephemer matching scars to player (ФωФ) i love theb detail tho

Color me surprises when I got to the end of Objects of Affection bc as I was reading through it realized the doodle was coming true in a way absndjejsjajbsjs

You know me too well, Romy 😄🩵 I do have some ideas about everything. Not all the details, but enough to talk about it! I’ll talk about it under the cut since this’ll probably end up being a bit long [apologies to everyone if the read more doesn’t work, it can be hit or miss on mobile]

Okay! Let’s get into this!!!

The ceremony takes place in the morning, at the eastern beach, the same place where Charis and Ephemer (technically) first met. And it’s the place that would’ve faced Daybreak Town directly. It’s an intimate event, consisting of just their family, close friends and some of their apprentices. Hestia officiates it, and they hold a reception(/ball maybe?) at the academy that’s more open to the general public.

I actually plan on drawing their wedding attire eventually! I don’t have them designed yet, but what I can tell you right now is that it’s not like irl wedding attire. And they’d both have their hair down, as part of Cablean tradition. Whenever I draw them, you’ll be the first to know! 😊

As for Brain…I do wonder if there’ll be anything written about him, since ML is called “the forgotten era”. But if Eph IS able to read about him…there’d be a lot of mixed feelings. He’d be overjoyed knowing that Brain arrives in Scala, in the very same place he’s built a home and a new life in. But it would also break his heart realizing that he won’t be around to see that day, because it’s too far in the future. He won’t see Brain again…but he finds comfort in knowing that he’ll at least be able to make preparations for him.

You know what’s funny about your doodle observation? I made that ch 11 doodle for fun. But then I actually sat down and started thinking about how an actual proposal would happen…and so OoA was born! 😄 The doodle literally did come true, sorta.

Thank you for your questions!! I appreciate it. And I’m glad you had fun reading OoA!

[butterflyinthewell]

The latest dad drama…

My dad is in the hospital and we get a break from him.

His hip is so severely bruised after his falls on Christmas Eve, Christmas Day and then New Year’s Eve that he’s in agony and we can’t take care of him in this condition.

TW: emotional abuse, swearing, hospital mention

He kept falling partway off his bed between the mattress and the wall, waking us up all hours of the night to pull him back onto the bed, wailing in pain anytime we had to move him, and he was totally unable to sit up or stand and swing over to sit on his toilet commode.

Parkinson’s already limits his mobility, so any injury that makes him unable to handle his own weight or help us move him means we can’t take care of him. We had no way to get him out of the house except to call the paramedics to take him to the ER. They almost wouldn’t do it until my sister said “he has advanced Parkinson’s and he can’t help us move him around, we can’t take care of him like this.”

I tried to speak up and say dad’s needs are getting beyond us, that mom keeps hurting her back trying to deal with him and we need long term help, but both mom and my sister yelled at me to shut up. As always I got silenced and never got a chance to say what I needed to say. 🤬

Dad will be discharged from the hospital to a rehab facility for however long insurance will allow it and hopefully he will heal enough to be able to help us help him.

He should be in a nursing home, but my family is trapped in that crack of “too much income (a pittance from the government) to qualify for assistance of any kind, but not enough to afford any long term care” and I hate it so much.

I’m tired of useless “help” that still ends with us struggling to take care of him once a crisis passes. The way things are going we’re going to continue in this vicious cycle of fall, misery, hospital, rehab, home over and over until he finally dies, and I don’t know if insurance will keep covering that either.

This ER run didn’t make me panic because I know why dad had to go there and that it’s not life or death. There’s the COVID risk, but at this point I just don’t care if we all get sick anymore. I’m careful to wear my mask whenever I leave the house so I won’t spread it if I catch it, and will stay home if I end up sick from somebody else bringing it home. (I didn’t go to the ER with everybody.)

But we are tired and stressed out from dealing with dad day in and day out with no rest or break. This is a break we’re desperately in need of.

As much as his emotionally abusive ass pisses me off, I don’t want him suffering in pain like he was. He’s got pain relief and that’s what’s important to me.

I’m just grateful for a break and I think mom will be too once she calms down.

A part of me hopes a social worker looks at the situation and gives us options or some kind of loophole to get dad into long term care, but I won’t hope too hard. I know American healthcare is shit and they don’t care about disabled poor people at all.

Caregiving is a thankless slog and even the most loving person will slowly be destroyed by the nonstop stress of it. It hurts when you see how people pull away like you’re a plague. I’ve watched it happen to my family, it’s pretty disgusting, and it’s the most unfair to disabled people who aren’t getting the care they desperately need.

[bihansthot]

Little update incoming but please mind the tags, I talk about some things not everyone might be comfy with!So far I’m pretty pleased with how things are going on Wegovy but there definitely are cases of “am I full or am I gonna puke” ngl I have vomited a few times on it. I’ve been losing a little over a pound a week and have been on the .25 dose for two months and just started the .5 dose today. Side effects have been very minimal but there’s definitely some stomach issues here and there. My only real complaint is I very rarely feel full, I’m never hungry and never have an appetite but I hardly ever feel well and truly full. There’s a lot more work involved with it than just skinny celebs lead you to believe, you actually have to put in the work of counting calories and exercising. Which I used to be very judicious about to the point of borderline anorexia so I’m a little scared I might get back to that point again. I’ve done a lot of mental health work between then and now though so I like to hope it will be ok. I need to be better about getting protein though, I’ve been very lax about it all week and that’s not good. I’m not overly concerned about losing muscle mass as I have a good bit of muscle but I don’t want to end up with skeletor face. So yeah there’s an update of sorts, I’m still in limbo after Ani ended things so I’m not sure what I’ll do. My partner is currently out of town so it’s just me and Denny for the next four days which is frustrating. Denny is a wonderful little lovebug but sometimes he likes to try and play when you take him out and he’s very strong and can get away from me so I worry. He thankfully just stays close by and runs little circles around me but it still stresses me out, he’s stressed too without my partner here. He won’t eat yet but hopefully he will soon, he usually gets like this when they’re away so no real cause for concern or alarm. If anyone wants to occasionally check in on us my inbox and discord (same name) are open. :) Ohhh update on my Dad, he’s going to get gel injected into his knees and it’ll hopefully buy him another year before he needs a replacement but he’s being really stubborn about it and quite honestly it’s pissing me off. He’s in constant pain, has limited mobility and has been told for years he needs a knee replacement and keeps putting it off. Why I’m frustrated is I would have killed for the luxury of declining/delaying any of the operations I’ve had, I’ve never had a choice and in the exceptionally rare case (my tubal ligation) I did, I still bit the bullet and did what I needed to do. My Dad has never had an operation in his life and while I understand being scared and apprehensive it’s something he needs done so he needs to suck it up and do it. Then again we’re talking about a man who nearly faints when getting his blood drawn, how I’m so damn resilient I’ll never know. I just worry about him, he’s in his late 70s now and things will just keep going downhill and I want him to stay as healthy and mobile for as long as he can. Ok I’m off to take Denny out, wish me luck.

[nightlet]

Recap and thoughts.

TS4 base game is free-to-play as of today. Personally not too pressed about this, though it would’ve been nice to get more than just a kit as compensation for long-time players. But if it gives people who’ve been holding back or couldn’t otherwise get the game a chance, cool.

Upcoming content, including two expansions. Tbh I don’t know the frequency of the deliveries up until now, but hopefully they uphold their claim of monthly updates because that’d be nice. Don’t care about upcoming kits, but Phil mentions two expansions in the works.

If these images are any indication as to what’s coming, I’m guessing a proper generations-style EP? Something to expand on the groundwork laid with Parenthood and focus on other life stages would be fantastic. Basing this idea more off of the right image with the kid on the bike and the baby backpack thing.

NEW. WHAT. 300 new kits? Knowing EA, probably. And then we hear a little baby cry, which is expanded on later.

Insert segment where someone asks strangers on the street what they think of the sims.

Steam-workshop-esque platform for mods. Bit of a love/hate feeling with this. It does kinda feel like an attempt to control the modding community. Because it’s going to be ultimately be controlled by the devs, there’s going to be plenty of mods that won’t be welcome on the platform. HOWEVER. If they can make it to be console-friendly, that’d be a great move. Odds are it won’t be, but a girl can dream.

“Maxis invented the life simulation genre.” Sounding a little insecure there. Cities:Skylines shake ya guys? Not feeling threatened by Paralives, are ya? Lol. “We’re not content to sit still.” LMAO. Ok, ok. sure.

Insert segment with a singer and then some dancers with a simlish cover. Chat replay is just “tomato tomato tomato” yikes.

Insert segment with sim gurus using freeplay sims as avatars. Freeplay sims are getting a facelift, also yachts? And a seasonal quest coming later this year.

Mobile is getting balconies.

Insert segment highlighting various creators. YES that is happening. Coulda used some Jim Pickens though.

Could it be? Is it TS5? Is it a spinoff?

The modular editing is something that Paralives had shown off very early on too, and was probably what really got me interested in their project. It’s something that, along with CASt, really gives some much needed freedom with the game and, let’s face it, would let devs get away with a lot less assets while still offering SO many more customizing choices.

So CASt will be making a return in their new game, both my dream and nightmare because I suck at it lol.

It does kinda sound like they’re hinting at a multiplayer option, which does scare me a little. I’ve said it before, but single player should come first in a game like this. I don’t hate on the idea of adding in multiplayer, but I’d hate if it ends up feeling like a game that’s MEANT to be played with others.

The cross-compatibility aspect is kinda interesting. Don’t hate it, but also unsure of how well it’ll work or if it’ll end up limiting the game to the capabilities of mobiles.

TS4 is getting real babies in 2023. Personally, babies are not high on my list. Toddlers have been anxiety-inducing enough and at the rate I’m going on my 100 baby challenge, I’m gonna have to deal with these for a good final portion of it which is scary. But I know it’s been a huge deal for a big part of the community, so congrats guys. Looks like the babies are finally being freed from their teeny tiny prisons. Though really this looks like a toddler to me so hopefully there’s enough of a difference.

And finally,

[sunsrefuge]

SotO character thoughts !!

(hopefully doing this on mobile doesnt mess up the readmore, but there isn’t actual spoilers in here! just being safe 💕)

I’m spinning Liifa in the salad spinner !!! he’s definitely my main for SotO, ALTHOUGH.

He is absolutely, one hundred percent, using ten-year-old fuzzy memory to his advantage and impersonating the Commander. — Context is that Liifa & my Commander, Khozzak, used to be College roommates! :) Zojja knew them both at around the same time, and both of them helped during the Orr Campaign & with the Jungle. (Liifa in more vague terms, but staying out of the spotlight has always been his style.) After Maguuma & around ten years later, mixing the two up would be pretty easy!

Now, Liifa knows that he’s not the Commander. Zojja eventually remembers that he’s not the Commander. But NOW they’re in this charade TOGETHER and they’re trying to hold it together so so hard. They’re lying out of their asses and sweating bullets if anyone squints at Liifa too long. I just think it’s the funniest thing ever. They would be bickering so much whenever they’re left alone bwkxJSND

It won’t last super long though!! Eliana is on a warpath because her rat is MISSING and these people know why! :) She is waving her gun (and book of demons) around in Astral Ward camps as we speak! and she’s going to constantly correct people on “What do you mean the Commander is here?? No he isn’t. He started a bakery in Lion’s Arch with his spouse and son, and my rat is here, somewhere.”

you cant blame him tho, all of this is SO COOL and he is SO excited to be here !!! Liifa has absolutely been sticking his nose in everything he can and getting his grubby little claws on every scrap of knowledge that he possibly can. 💕

[daintyaw]

04/03/2023 - update

i haven’t been posting my 30 day challenge bc frankly i had a brief intermission while dealing with an injury caused from over exercising (lol, who would have thought)

anyways, i’m back and restarting the 30 day challenge with some minor tweaks to it. i’m not able to go on runs or long walks right now so i’ll be sticking with stretching and yoga just for mobility but i’ll be pretty sedentary for the next month while i recover. that said, my daily intake has dropped drastically to make up for this & that really sucks but hopefully won’t be for too long.

[gegeenthusiast]

This has been brewing in my mind for the past like 5+ years, evolving and changing in the back of my head, but I think recently I finally found a way to express it...

The depiction of disability in a lot of media bothers me so much, and sometimes I see shades of it in this site too. The way that tools to aid physical disability, especially, are appreciated if they are 1) technologically advanced, be it a lot of moving mechanical pieces or with machinery, or 2) aesthetically pleasing, to the level of impractical showpieces. I do find both of them extremely cool-- that is, on a technical and aesthetic level. But this almost “veneration” for “cool ways to “”””counter”””” disability”, ie. “your disabled character should be cool to ‘offset’ their disability”, just feels like worms in my throat.

Let’s take adventure stories. You can have magic to make the fanciest of designs work, yes, but sometimes I feel like that’s another way to kind of bypass the actual uh, disability? Not in the sense that disabled people wouldn’t want to OR cannot want to fully recover a lost limb or regain full mobility, but that it’s the only way you can “rise above” your disability. Fully regaining the lost functionalities of your body. Be above it all.

But living with disability doesn’t mean that you’re somehow living a “lesser” life if you’re not equipped with state of the art myoelectric prosthetic limb; a lot of people without access to these more advanced prostheses live and are not languishing staring out the window longing for the sun or whatever. They have to find another way, yes, to accommodate their limitations. And that’s normal. What a grandma with a bad back can do is naturally different from what a 10 years old can do; that’s why grandmas make us put the thread through the needle eye. But we, hopefully, don’t see that as a lesser mode of living. They find workarounds, be it making use of otherwise useless tween grandchildren, or using that diamond shaped thingy. They won’t do it as fast as a 24 yo with normal eyesight but that’s a given.

And in that same way, I wish more authors actually write with their disabled characters in mind-- especially if said disabled character is part of the main cast. It’s not impossible to write a physically disabled character as part of an adventure novel cast, I promise. But you as the author, and by extension your other main characters, have to accommodate for them, too. Most of the time their limitations are something workable. Blind characters aren’t helpless, they don’t need to be superpowered to be a part of a mobile team either. I’ve read about this one team in the Philippines going on a hike up a mountain with visually-impaired youths. I was looking for a similar story specifically to write a blind character of mine, who, given the setting is ancient China, would have to navigate mountainous terrain. And from the blog post:

Unlike city sidewalks where you can predict the each step, in the mountains, every step is different: the terrain, the incline, and the many obstacles. But Jerald proved to be very intuitive in adjusting to the different kinds of trail we walked through, and as we went higher, I needed fewer words to guide him, allowing us to talk about other things.

[...]

Once, when we were resting on the trail, young Stephen correctly identified how many of us were there; and Jerald himself was very sensitive in detecting the subtle changes in the trail and in the weather. Having focused on our sense of sight, I guess we have not learned to develop our other senses to their fullest potential.

[..]

[...]  and in the end we took just the same time it would have taken had we been guiding sighted hikers.

Any writer who can actually write and are dedicated to having their disabled character treated properly would be able to acknowledge the limitations and challenges the disability would impose, yet also figure out realistic workarounds. They don’t need to be able to run up and down a mountain without tripping to deserve a place in the team. Fuck, sighted people fucking trip all the goddamn time. Sighted people can have godawful balance and suck at hiking. They don’t need to be cool and “above it all” just to offset their blindness.

This need to make the character be “above the limitations of their disabilities” can also manifest in like, hyperadvanced prosthesis. Listen man, I’m a biomedical engineering major, I understand, possibly more than you do, how exciting it can be. Each and every advancement in the field both furthers the field of engineering and that of human body and medicine. HOWEVER. Something I realize over the years is that a lot of these cutting edge science... are not actually very useful to disabled people, and are unlikely to be for at least a decade or five.

Take, for example, myoelectric prostheses. I’ll be real with you: I love this field. It was actually the reason why I majored in biomedical engineering, and I’ve been thinking about going there since 8th grade. My thesis was focused on the electrode part of the prosthesis. But the goddamn thing is $18,703 for a hand. Up to the shoulder, it’s $100,000. That cost is unlikely to go down much in the coming years. This isn’t even accounting for possible surgery costs, because of course the most cutting-edge version would require surgery that moves your fucking arm nerves to your torso to make the prosthesis move to “thought”. This isn’t even accounting for maintenance, which would require engineers with very specific skillset, probably, and would only be available in big city centers no doubt. There might only be 1-2 centers in ENTIRE COUNTRIES, if any. Did I mention that the thing is heavy in an unnatural way, and the attachment to the stump can hurt after prolonged use?

I wish I still remember the link, but I’m reminded of an article I read somewhere back during my college days. It talks about this old man who lost part of his arm, below the elbow. He operated farm machinery as part of his daily life, and in the end the arm prosthesis he chose isn’t anything with “a hand shape at the end” of it-- it was something like a hook, I think, to interact with the machinery he uses. It requires no complex structure or body that demands high maintenance, nor does it need a specialized engineer to do so. It enables him to live his life as previous. Did his life change from the loss? Of course it does. Loss is loss-- it’s something he can’t get back. But managing lifelong disability, much like any other chronic illness, is less about becoming “perfectly whole again” and more about restoring day-to-day functional capability.

And circling back to the media depiction, because I’m incredibly disorganized-- it bothers me when disabilities are used to either: 1) highlight a character’s “soft/intellectual power”, as in using the physical frailty or disability to further accentuate the power of their mind, or 2) treating the disability as though it doesn’t exist at all functionally (blind characters navigating new locations perfectly, straight up forgetting they’re disabled sometimes, I SEE YOU AUTHORS DOING THIS), or 3) cool points. I will attack you on the streets if you do this, btw.

At the end of the day, all three ways of depicting disability is incredibly... dehumanizing. So many of us are fine with fictionally navigating the limitations of people with mental illnesses, or personalities like being prideful, having addictions, etc, and yet so few would spend the 5 minutes to think, “how is my blind character going to yanno, travel though the goddamn mountains in my wuxia?”

And that fucking bothers me.

[johnlei07-sde-updates]

3RD WEEK

It’s hard to believe that a long weekend can feel so brief, especially when it's packed with non-stop events. The city was buzzing with life during the Higalaay Festival, and I found myself caught between the allure of concerts and the guilt of undone tasks. I won’t lie—temptation won. My brain decided to take a vacation too, leaving me struggling to focus on anything especially in academic matters. The festive atmosphere pulled me in, and before I knew it, the weekend had flown by with little progress on my part. No activities were completed, and honestly, my brain just refused to cooperate. It was like it also wanted to join in on the fun and leave all responsibilities behind.

However, after the celebrations, I managed to regain some momentum. I contributed to Activity 1, though I’m not entirely sure if it’s correct. I'll definitely need some feedback from my teammates on that. Alongside that, I jumped back into our project and helped redesign our UI in Figma. It feels good to be back on track, but I know there’s still a lot of work ahead.

PROJECT MANAGEMENT TOOL

In addition for this week, my teammate John Lord Salvaña setup an online meeting in which the agenda is to teach us the project management tool that we will be using.

He introduced us to a project management tool called ClickUp. It is available as both a web and mobile app. With ClickUp, we can easily see our assigned tasks and what still needs to be done. It works like a to-do list, which I find really helpful.

I explored ClickUp and found it quite useful. I even installed the mobile app so I can get notified about tasks, even when I’m not at home or in school.

That’s it for this week. Hopefully, I can get more done on our manuscript soon.