#i can just be there in case i can be convenient for something

[taojjang]

riize when you're on your period ✮⋆˙

pairing: bf!riize x fem!reader, genre: fluff (tiny bit of crack idk), warnings: menstrual cycle, blood, medication

♡⸝⸝ how he'd spoil you rotten during that time of the month

shotaro . . .

◦ oh how sweet he'd be :(

◦ taro is always the sweetest to you, treating you like a princess every waking moment of your life.

◦ but when you're on your period, he does everything in his power to lift your spirits and make you feel better.

◦ he wouldn't shy away from buying your feminine hygiene products! a real man, we love to see it!

◦ he'd be at your house every day, calling you beforehand to ask if you need him to get something for you.

◦ even if you say no, he'll never arrive empty-handed. he'll bring your favorite ice cream and maybe even a new teddy bear!

★ - "i'm sorry you're having a tough time, honey... is there anything i can do for you?"

eunseok . . .

◦ not a single day goes by where eunseok isn't spoiling you, waiting for your every request

◦ nothing changes during this time of the month; your caring boyfriend still stopping at nothing to make your life as easy as it can be.

◦ the only difference is that he'd never leave your side for even a second.

◦ he'd be sat beside you stroking your hair, occasionally checking to see if you're in pain or need anything from him.

◦ in the morning he'd ask you what you feel like eating so he can plan out today's meals, always ensuring his baby is happy and well-fed </3

◦ once he notices even a small wince from you, he wastes no time, rushing to grab a hot pack and leaving soothing kisses on your forehead.

★ - "i know it hurts, darling, i'm sorry. i'll take care of it, i promise."

sungchan . . .

◦ your cuddle buddy!

◦ whenever it's that time of the month, really all he wants to do is scoop you up in his arms and hug all of the pain away :( ... which conveniently works!

◦ when you're experiencing cramps, sungchan is always beside you, gently rubbing your tummy. he holds you delicately in his arms as if you'd shatter with too rough of a touch.

◦ his large, warm hands work wonders for your minor cramps and he knows that, so he never stays far from you in case you need him.

◦ but when your cramps are intense, sungchan always feels so sad and helpless :( he frantically researches remedies while you curl up in his lap, crying against his chest.

◦ he wipes your tears and kisses their trails, trying his best to soothe you in any way possible.

★ - "i'm so sorry, princess... the medicine should be kicking in any second now. should we try to take a nap?"

wonbin . . .

◦ a clueless cutie (・・ ) ?

◦ he'd be helplessly sitting beside you, too scared to touch you in fears of hurting you even more.

◦ nevertheless, he'd still be layering you with blankets and googling how to help his suffering gf (he's a loser and you love him!)

◦ in the end, he asks you to tell him whatever it is that you need, but all you want is cuddles and snacks :( so ofc he delivers!

◦ he'd order a bunch of your favorite snacks and find a good movie to watch

◦ would put on a comedy but laughing hurts your stomach so you watch a sappy romance instead, aaaand now he's stuck wiping your tears while you ugly cry over some cliche movie...!

★ - "you're such a crybaby. come here, let me kiss you."

seunghan . . .

◦ the way he treats you when you're on your period alone is already grounds for marriage

◦ seunghan would cater to your every need— buying your hygiene products, running errands, completing house chores, shit maybe even doing homework for you

◦ he just can't see his baby in pain :(

◦ the second you're leaning over in pain, he's running over to hug you probably with tears in his eyes

◦ every little flinch and he's asking if you need to go to the hospital

◦ he's the most caring boy in the world and he'd do anything for you <3

★ - "i'm sorry it hurts so much, angel... but i'm so proud of you, you know that?"

sohee . . .

◦ sohee would wear a stoic and confident act, but the poor boy is just a confused, scared, anxious little dude...

◦ he would be less clingy than the other members but would still travel lengths to make you feel better.

◦ sohee would work on lifting your spirits! he'd love to pick up food from your favorite restaurant and eat with you :3

◦ he'd do anything to make you smile— often ordering frozen yogurt at 2am and watching naruto until sunrise

◦ he knows how excruciating your menstrual cycle is, so he does everything in his power to make you happy even if its just for a split second.

◦ he's just your little ball of sunshine <3

★ - "i know it hurts, pretty girl... how about i order froyo? would that take your mind off of it..?"

anton . . .

◦ GOD SAVE THIS POOR BOY

◦ he is just about as emotionally drained as you are...

◦ every time you'd whine in pain, he'd hold you close to him and cry with you, constantly whispering apologies and comforting words.

◦ he goes out to buy your hygiene products but probably ends up calling you to tell him which one to buy... poor boy is super shy but he reminds himself it's for your girlfriend!

◦ he probably asks you questions about your period so he can become more prepared and knowledgeable, but you're not in the mood to talk so you end up cuddling instead (◡﹏◡)

◦ you lie cuddled up against his chest as he strokes your hair with one hand and rests the other on your lower back, soaking in each others' presence.

★ - "you're so admirable, my love. you're doing so well."

[nightowlfury]

tidbits from kant's file:

the file is updated for this year, 2567 = 2024. i'm not sure what the 353 means

kant's birthday is 27 march (มี.ค.) (year is blurry but we know it must be 2537/8 aka 1994/5 since he's 29. march has very likely passed in the show so im 95% sure it's 2538 (also looks more like an 8))

his career is listed as free/independent which i assume (probably?) means self-employment basically which would make sense. im not privy to thai census record terminology though

lives in bang phlat district. it's right on the chao phraya

im not great with names so i could be a little off, but it seems like his dad's name is phong junior..? he has อนุ in his name which i think can mean junior, but typically means small/kid/minor (roughly)

mom's name is samon (means beautiful/beloved woman lol)

under spouse (wife/husband) "miss" something is listed (นางสาว___) (possibly also ms.). cuts conveniently off lol. very likely he was/is married*

not sure what's under the spouse line. includes 173 ช.ม. (i believe). ชั่วโมง is hour, which is the only word i can think of it might abbreviate. 173 hours? shrug

*im curious about this, like everyone probably, but since this file is updated to 2024 and this person is listed under spouse, wouldn't that imply they're still technically married...?

at the same time, it says miss, not mrs. like kant's mom. However, mrs. is just นาง as opposed to miss = นางสาว. สาว means 'young woman'. i dont know if that means anything but i wonder if women who marry young/in their teens are still referred to as นางสาว. but Even if that were the case (which is a big if), wouldnt her title be updated now that she's presumable older in 2024? unless she like. uh. died

[kurishiri]

9.5 . . . “ a convenient relationship ”

꒰ ִ ֺ ⊹ @ notice ⊹ ֺ ִ ꒱ this translation may not be 100% accurate or contain creative liberties due to characterization or narrative flow purposes. if you enjoy, please consider reblogging, but don’t repost these or claim these as your own!

— 💋 his side story, chapter 9. this is one you can purchase on your second play through of his route.

— cw: some suggestiveness, could be considered dub-con.

Kate: So, the reason why you do what you do for the people in the slums...

K: ...is it because you understand their pain, and suffering?

Alfons: If it is as you say, that I am doing it for them, then perhaps such is the case.

——In the East End, I show a happy illusion to the bunch crawling their way through this dark reality.

It was something I had continuously done since a young age, so when it came to things such as the reason why I did it or what meaning it held,

to be honest, I couldn’t care less about that.

It was a hobby I had continued out of habit. A source of amusing entertainment. That was all it amounted to.

Kate: ...This is far from the first time you’ve dodged my question.

Perhaps Kate couldn’t accept my response for what it was, because she turned away, pouting.

(...The way she sulks does so resemble that of a child.)

Her profile looked so sweet and darling, the corners of my lips relaxed, unbeknownst to myself.

It felt like I just wanted to leave things the way they were, and keep looking on at it...

Or perhaps, it was a tickling desire to tease her and wanting to boop her...

Alfons: Hehe, you needn’t pucker your lips so.

Kate: ...?

In the end, the latter feelings overtook me, so I booped my fingertips on her lips, causing her to turn her eyes my way.

Alfons: For you see, your words ring so dear to me I just may not be able to resist the urge to give you a kiss here.

Kate: ...!

Her eyes looked into mine, as if she was glaring,

before she looked down, looking hesitantly around my lips.

(...It truly is a walk in the park figuring out what the little robin is thinking.)

(I can’t even be annoyed anymore. At this point I’m even a tad worried for her.)

Alfons: ...Would you like me to do it? Kiss you, I mean.

Kate: Wh—!? N-no, not at all...

Alfons: Why so worked up now? If you want to do it, it’s fine to just say that as is, am I right?

Kate: Well, I don’t want it.

Alfons: Yes, yes, I hear you. So? Were you able to find my weaknesses?

Kate: ...

The conversation ended there, and Kate’s mouth opened and closed repeatedly, seemingly dissatisfied.

And as though to hide any shame, she cleared her throat before suddenly turning away again.

(Hehe... ahh, she’s just so cute.)

(Getting played so easily like a toy, what a poor soul you are, Miss Kate.)

Kate: ...No, I couldn’t find any. I mean, you answered my questions just like that, without any hesitation.

K: So, I take it that you having been an orphan and the fact you use your abilities in the slums couldn’t amount to something like a weakness?

Alfons: Is that so? I wonder about that.

A: You see, aside from Elbie and Roger, I also am not sure who else knows of my true origins.

Kate: Huh!?

K: Are you saying not even Victor and William know...?

Alfons: Well, I suppose those two would be in the know.

A: Oh, while we’re at it, I reckon Jude may have somehow gotten wind of it too. Other than those three, though, who is in the know is beyond me.

A: And if I were to tell any social circle about it, forget about nonexistent trust, even that would crumble away, no?

Kate: ...Then is that to say the people in that pub, and the people whom you refer to as your ‘friends’ are also in the know?

Alfons: Ahha! Hardly. I don’t reveal more than absolutely necessary. And that goes both ways as well.

A: Things like reality only interfere with convenience.

(...Oh?)

Come to think of it, why did I reveal my background so honestly to her like that?

Kate: ...If so,

K: why did you tell me all this then?

She voiced the question that popped into my mind.

Alfons: Hmm... I wonder, now why did I.........?

(If I understood the ways of my own heart, giving an immediate answer to the question of ‘why’ would be a simple feat, but alas.)

What was thought to be there was nowhere to be seen, and conversely, what was thought to be nowhere was, in actuality, there.

And to me——I had little energy to look deeply into the thing called my heart.

After all, I was well aware that there would’ve been nothing good in there.

Alfons: ...That is a great question. One whose answer I know as well as you.

(There’s no need to give Kate the truth,)

(and thinking about it will yield nothing in return.)

Alfons: If I had to guess, though, perhaps it’s because you nearly moved me to tears, having followed me all the way out to such a place, I felt like telling you?

So I gave whatever answer I thought of before turning to the window, where the silhouette of London at night flew by, vaguely melted into the darkness.

All of a sudden, Kate, who had just been quiet, sucked in a breath.

Kate: I’ve decided to stop trying to look for your weakness on the sly.

Alfons: ...Come again now?

I turned my gaze next to me, where she was looking at me, with her usual straightforward eyes.

Kate: Because more than your weaknesses, I’m interested to know more about your true feelings.

K: I was thinking... I would like to get to know you better.

(.........) (O_O)

Kate: That’s why, I think if it meant I could know more about you...

K: I... wouldn’t mind becoming your ‘exclusive fairytale keeper.’

Alfons: ...Well, I’ll be.

(Perhaps, the reason I opened up about my background——)

(Was it because she was able to say such foreign-sounding words like ‘I will face you to the fullest’ and whatnot to my face?)

(Maybe it’s because I was hit with such foolish honesty.)

Kate’s expression seemed bright, and seeing that, my body seemed to tickle a smile out of me from the inside.

(How pitiful you are, Miss Kate.)

(Though it pains me to say, I don’t have an ounce of intention of reciprocating the sentiment.)

(But, if this means your mind will be filled to the brim with thoughts of me... then it’s all the more convenient for me.)

(By all means, may you dance atop the palm of my hand to the best of your ability.)

Alfons: If that’s the case, would it be safe to say that you would accept me doing these kinds of things with you?

Kate: ? What do you mean, ‘these kinds of thi’——

I closed the distance between us, my face approaching her, and Kate’s shoulders shook, understanding my intentions,

Kate: No, that’s... this and that are different.

Her face completely red, she pushed her palm on my mouth.

Alfons: ...Hehe.

(As always, you’re awfully inept at resisting, aren’t you.)

Kate: Eek...!?

I licked her palm, and with a cute cry, my mouth was free from her hands.

Alfons: Was it not the case that you were hoping to grasp my weaknesses because you were unable to avoid things like this, or am I wrong?

Kate: I-I mean, I would be able to prevent it as long as you didn’t touch the back of my neck.

Alfons: So you say, but I do find it doubtful you were able to avoid what I did now?

I placed my hand next to her legs across from myself.

I leaned forward, staring at her from a point-blank distance.

Alfons: Oh, yes, come to think of it, when we did naughty things at the back of the pub, I hadn’t used any of my abilities.

A: And yet as far as I recall, you still became loose and wet here, no?

Kate: T-that... I’m pretty sure it was all your fault.

Alfons: And why is that?

Kate: Because you frequent such strange places... it’s all on you.

(Aha, as it should.)

Alfons: Then, in this case, whose fault is it?

Kate: ——mn...!

I grasped at her defenseless wrists and stole her lips.

Kate: Mngh... mn——

I pulled her toward me, and Kate, whose eyes were wide open, closed tightly.

Kate: ah... ngh...!

My tongue through the gap of her lips intertwined with hers,

and her arms went limp, her body relaxing.

When I licked her upper jaw, a cute noise came out from her nose.

Alfons: Perhaps the fault lies with the shock of having seen something so strange, or perhaps it’s because of the shaking of the carriage...

A: If you wish for these kinds of explanations, I could give you these all day.

A: And if you so dislike the idea that you will lose your dignity if you don’t resist,

A: then I will not mind at all if you aaalways feign resistance.

As if ashamed of the anticipation, she closed her legs as I stroked her thighs,

and I slowly lifted up the hem of her skirt that was over her trembling knees.

Kate: Hah... ah, ngh... no...

(Even though your entire body is practically saying ‘I feel good’?)

Alfons: Since this relationship will end after only a month... let us enjoy ourselves, Miss Kate.

A: After all——you do so love pleasurable things like this, do you not?

Kate: N-no, I... I don’t...

Her breaths were short and restless as she tried her hardest to deny it. Such a sight held its own charm.

(Indeed——you don’t, yes?)

(After all, the reason you became this way in the first place was aaall because of me.)

(That’s all it has to be.)

Kate: ah... n-no, we can’t do this... not in a carriage...

Alfons: ...Then, where can we do this?

Kate: Ah——

Alfons: Your bed, perhaps? That said... I do find myself wondering if you will be able to hold yourself back until then?

Kate: ah... I-I...

Her lips half-open, I gently kissed her, sealing away any excuses.

Alfons: Shh... there is no need to give me a clear-cut answer.

A: When all is over and done with, you can simply blame it all on me. Then you won’t have to worry, yes?

(What is true, and what is not... let’s become so good that such things become trivial.)

I wouldn’t step too far. And I wouldn’t let anyone step too far either.

It was a convenient relationship just to give ourselves over to pleasure.

(That is all it needs to be between us.)

For some reason, the sight of her pouting profile popped up in the back of my mind, before fading away.

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masterlist🪞 ╱ ko-fi ☕️ ╱ comms 🤍

꒰ ִ ֺ ⊹ @ tags🏷️ ⊹ ֺ ִ ꒱ @drachonia @.comment, send an ask off anon, or dm to be added or removed!

[firstelevens]

Sam/Bucky + “catastrophe”

also on AO3

Bucky knows that he fucked up the exact second that he steps through the door. Usually, even with decidedly more significant fuck-ups, it takes at least a few steps before the extent of his mistake is clear. This time, it rushes up to meet him on the porch, the air thick with the smell of baking: butter and burnt sugar and fresh bread.

When he'd caught a whiff of it in the front yard, he'd hoped it was from a neighbor's house, that maybe there was a bake sale or birthday party to justify it, but he'd known even then that that wasn't the case.

He leaves his boots by the door, hanging his jacket up in the hallway closet the way he almost always forgets to do. His backpack and go-bag get tucked away in a corner to be dealt with later, and Bucky tells himself that that's just for convenience and not because he'd have to cross the kitchen to get to the laundry room.

It's an argument that's a little bit undercut when Alpine slinks her way down the hall, immediately winding around his legs and clamoring for his attention, and the first thing that Bucky does is lean over and peek at the kitchen to gauge whether Sam heard either of them. He can't tell from where he's standing, so instead he sits on the ground and lets Alpine perch herself in his lap, butting her head up into his hand until he relents and gives her chin scratches.

"It's bad, huh, baby?" he asks, kissing the top of her head. She lets out a soft noise and noses at his hand again, which Bucky takes for a yes. "Has he been baking all morning?"

He doesn't need an answer from Alpine for that one. From where he's sitting, he's got a line on the dining room, where he can see two pies and a pan of what might be cinnamon rolls cooling on the table.

"Maybe I should've brought home flowers," he muses. "I just didn't want to wait. I skipped the debrief so I could get here faster." Yelena had complained about providing a mission report on her own, but she'd also told him to make his hair less of a catastrophe before Sam broke up with him, which was as close to approval as Bucky was going to get.

There's another soft noise from Alpine, and he's fairly certain that she's about to curl up on his leg, but then the oven timer goes off and she startles, letting out a yowl in protest and scampering away. She gives him a look of betrayal as she slinks up the stairs and Bucky huffs in response.

"What, now you're mad at me, too?" he asks, but she doesn't so much as glance backwards.

Without the excuse of Alpine, Bucky is out of reasons to linger out of sight, but he waits for another moment, listening to Sam move around their kitchen. There's a rhythm to how he opens and closes the cabinets, a familiar music in the clatter of his measuring cups and the way-too-big metal bowl that he finds every excuse to use. No matter how chilly a reception awaits him, just being able to hear Sam makes something slot back into place in Bucky's chest, the remedy to a quiet and persistent ache that he's felt for the better part of six months.

He pushes up off the floor and crosses into the kitchen to find Sam at the stove, peering critically down at something in a saucepan. When he opens his mouth to speak, Sam holds up a hand to stop him without looking away from what he's cooking on the stove.

"Not yet," he says, and Bucky closes his mouth with an audible click. It shouldn't be such a relief, but hearing Sam talk to him at all does wonders to ease some of the tension out of him. Sam doesn't acknowledge him beyond that, swirling the pan a few times before he turns off the burner and slides the pan off the heat.

Bucky distracts himself from the urge to talk by taking in the kitchen. It's reasonably neat, in spite of the evidence of hours of baking. From where he stands, Bucky can see the window boxes that he and Sam talked about, already bursting with herbs. There's a wheelbarrow full of soil in the backyard, waiting beside the raised planting bed that Bucky had only seen in sketches before he left.

He feels Sam's gaze settle on him while his head is turned towards the window, and he does his best not to squirm under the weight of it. Once, when they were still working together in the field, Bucky told Sam that he needed to get better at letting people sweat it out so they would give up information more easily. Sam had argued at the time, rightly pointing out that his friendly chatter usually was much quicker to disarm people, but apparently he's had time to hone those sweating-it-out skills in the months that they've been separated.

Still, Bucky knows a thing or two about patience. He spent the better part of a war lying in wait in a sniper's foxhole, and he spent years watching as his nebulous thing with Sam slowly transformed from acquaintance to friendship to the kind of love that he never thought he'd get to have.

He stays quiet, taking in the changes to the house and the backyard, and when he catches Sam uncrossing his arms and leaning back against the counter, he expects to hear literally anything except for the actual words that come out of Sam's mouth.

"Can you just come here, please?" he asks, and when Bucky looks over at him in shock, his arms are already open.

Bucky doesn't need to be asked twice. He's in Sam's arms in the space of a breath, face buried in Sam's neck as he tries to ignore the sting behind his eyes and the lump in his throat. It's only when he wraps his arms around Sam and feels him slump forward against Bucky that he realizes how tightly Sam was holding himself until now.

"I missed you," Sam croaks, and Bucky's fairly certain that he feels a tear or two soak into the collar of his t-shirt.

"I really thought you'd be more angry at me," says Bucky. "I mean, I'm not complaining, but--"

"Oh, I'm furious," says Sam mildly. "I just also missed you. Like, a lot. Way more than I should have, considering how annoying you are."

"I can work with that," says Bucky, pulling away just enough to chance a look at Sam's face. His dark circles are bad, and Bucky feels retroactively guilty about all the nights that he couldn't soothe Sam back to sleep when the worry woke him up.

"I also just wanted to make sure you weren't injured before I chewed you out," says Sam, and it's only then that Bucky clocks that Sam's wandering hands have been less about copping a feel and more about checking for bruised ribs and dislocated shoulders.

"I'm fine," Bucky says, frowning as he skims his fingers over a mostly-healed cut on Sam's forehead. "What's this?"

"Turns out cherry blossoms are less nice when you're being thrown at them face first," says Sam, waving a hand. "Stop trying to distract me."

(But he tilts his head just slightly towards Bucky anyway, and doesn't protest when Bucky presses a kiss to it.)

"I'm not distracting you," says Bucky. "You can ream me out whenever you want. I won't even interrupt you."

"If you're gonna lie, at least make it believable."

Bucky huffs. "Fine. I won't interrupt you that often."

"Better," says Sam, and Bucky can hear his smile even with his eyes closed.

When Sam doesn't pull away after another long moment, Bucky gives his waist a gentle squeeze. "Am I being subjected to a Sam Wilson lecture or not? Shouldn't there be fire and brimstone by now? I punched a car."

"You did not just punch a car, Bucky; you decided that the best way to deflect a whole ass SUV flying through the air was with your body and one single fist," says Sam, but in spite of the heat in his voice, he doesn't move away. "Your stupidity will keep, and so will my feelings about it. Just...just give me a minute, okay?"

"Okay, sweetheart," murmurs Bucky, bowing his head to kiss Sam's jaw. "Ready when you are."

"Okay," says Sam, and stays exactly where he is.

[goldensunset]

in general i roll my eyes at people who complain about all the new quality of life improvements in modern pokémon games bc inconvenience and genuine challenge are two very different things. but the one thing i would definitely agree on that i don’t like in sv is the ability to access your pc boxes any time. it sort of cheapens the experience of having to carefully choose which six pokémon you’re taking before venturing into unknown danger. like i don’t think you should be able to catch a pokémon in the depths of area zero and immediately put it in your party i think you gotta be loyal to whoever you took initially. it’s about being forced to have a plan for all outcomes

[discjude]

Hi prequel community. If I said that I think the reason why there were only two prequels compared to the three that the other parts of the series got (3 TSY books and 3 TCY books) AND the reasons why Rhian's eye colour changes miraculously from Rise to Fall from green to blue (I think he's described as having green eyes in Rise? someone might have to correlate me on that) is because in Rise he's supposed to parallel TSY Sophie (green eyes, doubtfully good, multiple boyfriends) and then in Fall he's supposed to parallel Japeth (blue eyes, fratricidal, insane, gets cool one liners) how would you react to that

[nocentis]

x

[pikkish]

why do the secret walls in quake bleed when you hit them.

[riverofempathy]

Tearing up because that’s me.

I can’t stop (couldn’t stop) all the pain & struggles & trauma in my life or the lives of literally any other person in this galaxy, but I can write worlds where things get better, where people actually talk about their issues, where people save the day. Or maybe sometimes they don’t, maybe sometimes they’re seconds too late and they still have gut-wrenching grief and trauma, but other people are there for them in exactly the way they need. They say exactly the right things. They hug them and kiss their foreheads and provide a safe, warm, soft space for my characters to actually let out ALL the tears instead of holding them back—something I’m still figuring out how to do for myself.

My stories are all about going through terrible things and figuring out/receiving the things they need to heal. It’s about *humanity* in all its beauty and ugliness and pain and wonder and joy and grief and hatred and love and suffering and comfort and all the things that we go through in our own lives, because I think it’s important to see how even fictional people can survive those things. Because it helps us feel like we can, too.

a comic about fix-it fanfics

[infiniteglitterfall]

know someone who enjoys horror stories? share this one! it's true!

hahahahahahahahahaha aarrggghhhhhhhhhh 3,000,000 deaths due to COVID-19 last year. Globally. Three million. Case rates higher than 90% of the rest of the pandemic. The reason people are still worried about COVID is because it has a way of quietly fucking up your body. And the risk is cumulative.

I'm going to say that again: the risk is cumulative.

It's not just that a lot of people get bad long-term effects from it. One in seven or so? Enough that it's kind of the Russian Roulette of diseases. It's also that the more times you get it, the higher that risk becomes. Like if each time you survived Russian Roulette, the empty chamber was removed from the gun entirely. The worst part is that, psychologically, we have the absolute opposite reaction. If we survive something with no ill effects, we assume it's pretty safe. It is really, really hard to override that sense of, "Ok, well, I got it and now I probably have a lot of immunity and also it wasn't that bad." It is not a respiratory disease. Airborne, yes. Respiratory disease, no: not a cold, not a flu, not RSV.

Like measles (or maybe chickenpox?), it starts with respiratory symptoms. And then it moves to other parts of your body. It seems to target the lungs, the digestive system, the heart, and the brain the most.

It also hits the immune system really hard - a lot of people are suddenly more susceptible to completely unrelated viruses. People get brain fog, migraines, forget things they used to know.

(I really, really hate that it can cross the blood-brain barrier. NOTHING SHOULD EVER CROSS THE BLOOD-BRAIN BARRIER IT IS THERE FOR A REASON.) Anecdotal examples of this shit are horrifying. I've seen people talk about coworkers who've had COVID five or more times, and now their work... just often doesn't make sense? They send emails that say things like, "Sorry, I didn't mean Los Angeles, I meant Los Angeles."

Or they insist they've never heard of some project that they were actually in charge of a year or two before.

Or their work is just kind of falling apart, and they don't seem to be aware of it.

People talk about how they don't want to get the person in trouble, so their team just works around it. Or they describe neighbors and relatives who had COVID repeatedly, were nearly hospitalized, talked about how incredibly sick they felt at the time... and now swear they've only had it once and it wasn't bad, they barely even noticed it.

(As someone who lived with severe dissociation for most of my life, this is a genuinely terrifying idea to me. I've already spent my whole life being like, "but what if I told them that already? but what if I did do that? what if that did happen to me and I just don't remember?") One of its known effects in the brain is to increase impulsivity and risk-taking, which is real fucking convenient honestly. What a fantastic fucking mutation. So happy for it on that one. Yes, please make it seem less important to wear a mask and get vaccinated. I'm not screaming internally at all now.

I saw a tweet from someone last year whose family hadn't had COVID yet, who were still masking in public, including school.

She said that her son was no kind of an athlete. Solidly bottom middle of the pack in gym.

And suddenly, this year, he was absolutely blowing past all the other kids who had to run the mile. He wasn't running any faster. His times weren't fantastic or anything. It's just that the rest of the kids were worse than him now. For some reason. I think about that a lot. (Like my incredibly active six-year-old getting a cold, and suddenly developing post-viral asthma that looked like pneumonia.

He went back to school the day before yesterday, after being home for a month and using preventative inhalers for almost week.

He told me that it was GREAT - except that he couldn't run as much at recess, because he immediately got really tired. Like how I went outside with him to do some yard work and felt like my body couldn't figure out how to increase breathing and heart rate.

I wasn't physically out of breath, but I felt like I was out of breath. That COVID feeling people describe, of "I'm not getting enough air." Except that I didn't have that problem when I had COVID.) Some people don't observe any long (or medium) term side effects after they have it.

But researchers have found viral reservoirs of COVID-19 in everyone they've studied who had it.

It just seems to hang out, dormant, for... well, longer than we've had an opportunity to observe it, so far.

(I definitely watched that literal horror movie. I think that's an entire genre. The alien dormant under ice in the Arctic.)

(oh hey I don't like that either!!!!!!!!!) All of which is to explain why we should still care about avoiding it, and how it manages to still cause excess deaths. Measuring excess deaths has been a standard tool in public health for a long time.

We know how many people usually die from all different causes, every year. So we can tell if, for example, deaths from heart disease have gone way up in the past three years, and look for reasons. Those are excess deaths: deaths that, four years ago, would not have happened. During the pandemic, excess death rates have been a really important tool. For all sorts of reasons. Like, sometimes people die from COVID without ever getting tested, and the official cause is listed as something else because nobody knows they had COVID. But also, people are dying from cardiovascular illness much younger now.

People are having strokes and heart attacks younger, and more often, than they did before the pandemic started. COVID causes a lot of problems. And some of those problems kill people. And some of them make it easier for other things to kill us. Lung damage from COVID leading to lungs collapsing, or to pneumonia, or to a pulmonary embolism, for example. The Economist built a machine-learning model with a 95% confidence interval that gauges excess death statistics around the world, to tell them what the true toll of the ongoing COVID pandemic has been so far.

Total excess deaths globally in 2023: Three million.

3,000,000.

Official COVID-19 deaths globally so far: Seven million. 7,000,000. Total excess deaths during COVID so far: Thirty-five point two million. 35,200,000.

Five times as many.

That's bad. I don't like that at all. I'm glad last year was less than a tenth of that. I'm not particularly confident about that continuing, though, because last year we started a period of really high COVID transmission. Case rates higher than 90% of the rest of the pandemic. Here's their data, and charts you can play with, and links to detailed information on how they did all of this:

Here's a non-paywalled link to it:

https://archive.vn/2024.01.26-012536/https://www.economist.com/graphic-detail/coronavirus-excess-deaths-estimates

Oh: here's a link to where you can buy comfy, effective N95 masks in all sizes:

Those ones are about a buck each after shipping - about $30 for a box of 30. They also have sample packs for a dollar, so you can try a couple of different sizes and styles.

You can wear an N95 mask for about 40 total hours before the effectiveness really drops, so that's like a dollar for a week of wear.

They're also family-owned and have cat-shaped masks and I really love them. These ones are cuter and in a much wider range of colors, prints, and styles, but they're also more expensive; they range from $1.80 to $3 for a mask. ($18-$30 for a box of ten.)

[osheamobile]

Keep seeing the (extremely correct) posts about keeping your stuff on physical media - CDs, DVDs, blu-rays, books, etc.

And yes, 100%, do not get rid of your physical media in favor of streaming. I did some of that about a decade or so ago before I learned better and there are books and CDs I now need to find again.

But something that I see a lot of people dismiss is that the digital versions are more convenient. Taking ebooks to travel is so much better than taking up half your backpack, having digital music is genuinely better than swapping out discs

The thing is, it's not mutually exclusive. Rip your CDs and DVDs but keep the discs - you can toss the cases in favor of more condensed storage and leave them in your closet until you need them again. Strip the DRM from your ebooks - you paid for them the same way you'd have paid for physical paper tree-based versions - and burn them to CDs as well for safekeeping.

You can play MP3s just as easily as Spotify in cars and in much the same way, and you can stream movie files from your computer to your TV just as easily. Tech can be both convenient and for personal preservation - you can do both.

Keep your physical stuff because streamers can just get rid of anything at any time, but you absolutely can keep the convenience of the modern digital era at the same time.

I spent several months last year digitizing the roughly 1200 discs that we've accumulated for the past thirtyish years - music, movies, TV - and it was not only the most fun project I took on, it's been the most rewarding because we have movies that aren't available to stream. But I can stream it to my TV with director's commentary any time I want.

[alastors-wife]

I have no idea how some of you guys are able to get super into politics & reading about communist stuff because accessibility wise??? it's been a nightmare for me

[askshivanulegacy]

Actually think he's got ALL the great points. I am LIVING for Sith-centric POVs. The Jedi aren't right and good simply by virtue of being Jedi. I wanna hear what the other side has to say about it.

It's about time we had a sympathetic glance at the Sith. What's gonna happen next? When and what's the shoe that's about to drop?? Will the Sith be JUSTIFIED or will things revert back to ye olde Jedi=Right?

This is what story time is supposed to be about !!

*eats popcorn.*

He do be making some good points though.

[blue-sleeps-in]

i have this vague vision in my mind of a social media where everyone's account is actually their own website hosted on their own computer. but even if i had the skill (i do not) i am not dumb enough to try to make a social media

[moralesispunk]

I think you're either team ghost x civilian wife! reader where the rest of the 141 have no idea you exist or team they know and it's a very familial like and I'm the first one

simon who does everything he can to keep you his secret, even more so when your family starts to grow. when he's finished with a mission he will spend the next 48hrs barely sleeping, moving around to make sure no one is on his tail before making it home into your arms.

it's not that he doesn't trust the 141, but you and your family are far too precious to trust anyone with. you've heard the stories of all of the other men, are sure you would need only one look at them to be able to guess which man belongs to the many names he's told you over the years, but you're aware they don't know that you exist.

that on the rare nights simon ventures out to meet them for a sole pint between missions they think he's holed up in some bachelor flat back in manchester, perhaps with a string of women that come and go, but they couldn't be more wrong with his wedding band hidden under his gloves when he's home like now or safely in his drawer at home when he's on missions.

and it's not that he doesn't wish he could shout about you from the rooftops. everyone in your town knows that the big scary man whose face is always conveniently hidden in the shadows has a missus at home who brings your chubby babies to the toddlers and drops your kids off at school.

but the 141 don't know about you, not until enough time has passed since simon retired to consider it safe enough. simon with his aching joints and trembling hands, the ringing in his right ear and back pain that requires at least two, hour long soaks in the bath a week. simon the husband and dad who has butterfly clips in his hair and at least one nail painted from the game of hairdressers his oldest likes to play, a bright pink plaster on his knee to match the youngest, and one hand on your belly at all times with the third (and final in your opinion but simon is working on that) of your brood.

simon who is out for drinks with the 141 three years after retirement and slips and says something about moving house and the hassle, the rest of the men deciding they will help and so simon decides it's finally time. but he doesn't forewarn them about his family before the day, standing in the garden of your packed up house that your family has outgrown while the men stumble out of the van they hired only to stop dead in their tracks when they see you.

you who is waving in the doorway, a toddler on your hip and looking like you're about to pop while another child - maybe six or seven by their guesses - swings from simon's arm, with a dog jumping up paws on his chest. and like the man he is he doesn't explain, just jerks his chin towards the piles of boxes and empty moving van he's started to pack.

"think you can start making a move on that?"

a few hours later and still no explanation from simon, he's in the first van packed with all the furniture and bigger boxes with you and the kids and the guys follow behind, slack jawed and still confused as they stay speechless until they pull up at the new house.

they're still staring at you as you pile out of the first van and you're shaking your head, elbowing simon in the ribs and muttering a "put them out their misery, Si" and they swear they almost drop dead when they see how gently he handles you, an arm around your waist and a kiss to your temple as he guides you and the two gremlins towards the guys while the dog starts sniffing around its new home.

"fellas, this is the missus and kids," he says and you roll your eyes, holding out your hand towards them and introducing yourself by name, adding on the kids who beam up shyly at these strangers.

that seems to shake them out of it. john takes your hand first, shaking and turning to simon with a "you hide her away in case we try to steal her from you?" he winks and you and only grins wider when simon's hand on your hip seems to squeeze tighter. gaz and soap are bending down and coaxing your two girls out of their shyness, complimenting their light up trainers and asking if it makes them run faster before cheering them on as they run to the front door and back.

they set you up on a fold out chair and do all the heavy lifting as you point them and the boxes in their arms to their correct rooms. later, Simon treats them to dinner (a takeaway) and has you sitting on his knee with the girls in bed and for the first time he spends a night with the guys telling you stories of Simon "Ghost" Riley.

"they're lyin' love," he'll mumble in your ear at every story, "don't believe them do ya?" his hand strokes up your back, squeezing your neck.

"yeah, babe, believe you," you say while smiling at the men around your new dining room table, men who have saved your husbands life more times than he can count, and you find yourself curling closer to simon because of that

[neoanedotheart]

Lazy thing i wanted to do!!! they're just silly :3

I think dave is a pretty princess and John is awkward

I'll be yapping below

I believe that Dave texts John right after he gets his ass handed to him DAILY. It usually plays out like this where they banter and Dave never really goes through the extent of explaining what thoroughly happens to him so John lives in forever ignorant bliss. And this leads Dave to feel like there's more of disconnect because he first of all doesn't really know how to articulate his feelings and second abuse doesn't seem like abuse to the victim. So he goes about everyday unknowingly yearning to be saved by someone greater than him, which is why I put the snow white reference at the end hehe.

Snow white as a fairy tale is extremely cliche, you got the prince in shining armor showing up conveniently on a horse and saving the girl. There's always this hierarchy placed upon the story where the damsel in distress is saved by a man, that man being portrayed as a greater being.

And with John taking place as the prince in this context paints him as this greater being. And I feel like a part of Dave envies and despises John for being this way, for being "perfect" or in a way. Greater than him.

The thing is in the original snow white story she's unconscious, that's undesirable. But it adds to the desperation of wanting to be saved, shining a better looking light on a person who isn't really there for reasons you want them to be. However John is a sincere person, it's more so the lack of communication or true understanding of one another that leads to this rift, this belief that John isn't there for Dave because he loves him, but because he's his friend and it's John's duty as a friend to save him. Which also brings me to the last line where Dave never corrects himself, and how he insinuates that he'll be unconscious due to being placed in a glass coffin much like snow white was when she was poisoned. He's at this stage where he doesn't want to be saved by an outer source, a greater person than him. He wants to be saved by himself he wants to prove worthy, but then conflicting within his mind is also this idea he isn't good enough to. We all know that Dave believes he isn't a hero and explicitly states John is the hero multiple times throughout homestuck. So he stays waiting.

John however, refers to Dave as Cinderella, Cinderella gets abused and put through plenty of torture from her step sisters and is saved through marriage of some person she just met. There's still this base line of being saved by man however there's this more mutual understanding of what they're getting into, a similar yearn for one another. Though he never caught her name he was still willing to find her, the real her. Which is John in this case, he probably understands he's missing something in the big picture but can never find out what and the best he can do is hope that the other half still held on to what they once were and was willing to share.

This is a pre-sburb interaction btw they're just unknowingly foreshadowing a shit ton.

Sorry if there's like bad shitty writing in here, I'm rambling and it's like almost midnight hehe