#i started a list of foods that i will reliably eat

[i-hate-people-1]

~Mid to West~

Eddie Munson x Henderson reader road trip AU

Pairing:Eddie Munson x Henderson reader

Warnings:none

Words: 1,800

A/N: Had this idea a while ago finally decided to write it down.

Dustin wanted something; you knew it. He’d been doing your chores, letting you use the bathroom to get ready in the mornings without complaining, letting you take the first shower, folding your laundry, which he knew you hated doing.

You hadn’t said anything, not one to look at a gift horse in the mouth. However, it finally came to a head when Dustin came into your room with this morning tray in hand (the one your mom always used to bring you breakfast in bed on your birthdays or when you were sick). a bowl of honey nut Cheerios, a glass of orange juice, and a bowl of mixed fruit sit on top of it.

“I made you breakfast,” he said as he walked to you.

You gave him a strange look as he sat it on your nightstand. It was the weekend, so you had just been lounging around reading your new book since you woke up. “Why?” You finally asked, sitting up against your headboard, taking the food and starting to eat, still looking at him quizzically.

“What can’t a little brother just do something nice for his older sister, whom he loves so much?” Dustin defended unconvincingly.

"Yeah, they can, but you don’t,” you said, rolling your eyes. “Come on out with it, shitbird, you wait much longer. I’ll have finished my food, and you’ll have to wait till you can make a whole other meal,” you joked, popping a grape into your mouth.

"Alright, fine,” Dustin sighed, sitting on the edge of your bed. “I do want something, and I want you to really think about it before you say no.” He trailed off, avoiding your gaze.

“Okay?” You egged, kicking his shoulder lightly, ready for him to get on with it.

"Well, you know how summer break starts next week, and I’ve outgrown science camp, and there’s no way mom would let me fly. You know how much planes scare her, and Susie’s parents wouldn’t let her either, but Mom would probably let me if you went to and drove me." Dustin paused, seeing the confusion on your face. “Would you take me on a road trip to Utah to visit Susie over the summer? Well, not the whole summer, but while it’s happening." Dustin finished rambling, looking at you hopefully with his best puppy dog eyes.

"Ugh,” you groaned. "Really, Utah, come on, it’s like the asscrack of America.”

“No, I’m pretty sure that’s Florida.”

“I don’t even have a car; how are we going to get there?” You asked, both loving and hating, the way your little brother's eyes lit up.

“Don’t even worry about that; I’ve got it covered. Is that a yes?” He asked far too excited at 8:30 in the morning.

“It’s a yes if you can find us a car and somehow convince Mom to let us go,” you told him, condescendingly.

“Yes! Yes! Thank you, thank you, thank you; you're the best sister ever!” Dustin exclaimed, hugging you tightly.

"Yeah, yeah,” you mumbled, rolling your eyes as you tussled his hair. “I know, and don’t you forget it.”

***

That’s how Dustin found himself here, cleaning up after hellfire, about to ask Eddie if he’d be willing to drop his summer plans to drive him and his sister to Utah so he could see his girlfriend.

By some miracle, Dustin had convinced his overprotective mother to let him go, and Eddie was the last piece of the puzzle. Well, at least his van was deciding that even if it wasn’t the most reliable, it was the most spacious, meaning you’d have to spend less money on motels along the way, and you could fit more people, Lucas and Steve, on the top of his list to invite once he got the older boy to agree to this somewhat questionable plan.

“You’re oddly quiet, Henderson. What’s going on in the ginormous head of yours?” Eddie asked teasingly as he packed up his dice and began sliding his books into the book bag he’d had since his freshman year.

“What are your plans for the summer?” Dustin blurted it out, unable to keep it in any longer.

"Umm, I don’t know. Maybe plan a new campaign. I'm going to try to deal at some of the parties and make some extra cash. You know, I really enjoyed my last summer before I’m hurdled into a life of adulthood,” Eddie said, shrugging and throwing his bag over his shoulder. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m ecstatic about finally graduating, but now I have to actually grow up. It's a bummer." Eddie sighed jokingly, getting ready to lock up. They had one more hellfire meeting before school was over; it was all oddly emotional for him.

“Well, how fun does a road trip to Utah with your favorite little buddy sound for summer plans?” Dustin propositioned himself, smiling hopefully at him.

“Like actual hell,” the older boy deadpanned, walking out of the old drama room.

"Oh, come on, please, it’ll be fun, I promise, and me and Y/N really need your van,” Dustin pleaded, following after him.

“Y/N will be there?” Eddie asked, stopping in his tracks and smiling brightly when Dustin nodded. "Well, why didn’t you say so sooner? Utah sounds great!” Eddie exclaimed.

"Really, you only want to go for my sister?” Dustin asked with mock sadness in his voice.

“No Dustin I only want to go for your hot sister,” Eddie paused, laughing at the way Dustin’s nose wrinkled in disgust at his words. "Besides, you only want me to go for my van,” Eddie pointed out as they began walking to the parking lot.

“Fair enough,” Dustin shrugged, walking beside him.

“So where’s Utah, like Canada or something?”

“Oh my god,” Dustin mumbled, shaking his head, already regretting asking him to come.

***

After a week of anticipation a graduation ceremony where you, Robin, Eddie, and Nancy walked the stage and a lot of time spent making Eddie look at a map, it was finally time for your trip to begin. Dustin had been practically bouncing off the walls all morning, and he was excited to spend what you had calculated to be almost 23 hours in a car, not including stops.

Somehow, you ended up with six people coming on your little road trip: Eddie, Dustin, Steve, Robin, and Lucas.

Lucky for you, the Wheelers already had plans to visit the Byers, so you didn’t have to shove two more in there, and Max was going to summer camp.

You could practically hear when Eddie pulled into your street loud vehicle blasting music and erratic driving, doing nothing to keep him stealthy.

“Are you sure you guys really want to go?” Your mother asked you for the hundredth time. “Maybe you should stay.”

Dustin threw his head back, dramatically letting out a groan. “Come on, Mom, we talked about this. We’re going to be fine. You’ve got to give Dusty Buns a little freedom, plus I’ll be with him the whole time.” You paused walking over to Dustin, who was giving your mom puppy dog eyes, pinching his chin in between your fingers. “Besides, who could say no to this face?” you coed, knowing that as overprotective as she was, she had a hard time telling him no.

"Okay, okay, just be careful and call me,” she conceited, pulling you both in for a hug that you gladly returned as Eddie stopped his van. “I love you both; be careful,” your mom said, finally heading inside after one more hug for the both of you.

"Alright, come on guys, we’ve still got two more stops,” Eddie yelled from the van.

“Come on, DustyBuns, your damsel awaits,” you said, ruffling his hair and walking to the van.

***

After a few hiccups, I.E. Steve packing everything he owned you were finally on your way out of Hawkins Eddie driving you sitting shotgun with Dustin Steve Robin and Lucas in the back.

“I can’t believe this was the best way to spend my summer,” Robin groaned.

"Oh, come on, you guys, stop acting like we’re not going to have a blast,” Dustin said. "Besides, we’re already out of Hawkins, so you’re stuck,” he told you guys, mockingly pointing at the leaving Hawkins/Hell sign.

“Oh yeah, I guess we are,” Eddie said, distractedly casually flipping the bird to the sign as you passed it. “I guess you can probably come out now, red,” Eddie said, making everyone look at him in confusion.

“Finally!” You heard making all of you jump and shriek as you saw a figure jump out of the pile of blankets sitting in the corner of the van.

“Maxine Mayfield, what the fuck are you doing here?!” Steve yelled, clutching a hand to his chest.

"Yeah, she’s supposed to be at summer camp,” you scolded, seeing the smirk grow on Eddie’s face.

"Oh, come on, sweetheart, I couldn’t let one of my sheepies rot while we had all the fun,” he said, wiping the smirk off his face to pout at you comically.

"Yeah, Eddie was just helping me,” Max said, working her way to the front of the van and joining Eddie in looking at you pitifully. “Please don’t tell my mom I want to spend the summer with you guys.”

"Yeah, come on, doll, can we keep her?” Eddie asked hopefully.

"Yeah, let her stay,” Dustin and Lucas said, joining the side of Eddie and Max.

"Yeah, come on, we could use another girl." Robin joined in, leaving only you and Steve.

“Aww, what the hell, yeah, let’s let her stay,” and now you’ve lost Steve too.

“Please?” Max said one last time you looked at the whole van teaming up on you, eyes wide and sad as they waited for your answer.

And you almost held your ground until you looked at Eddie, his big brown eyes peering into your soul. His bottom lip jutted out.

"Fine,” you sighed, making the whole van erupt in cheers.

“Thank you, thank you,” Max said, hugging you.

“You’re really the best!” Dustin Lucas Robin and Steve all cheered one after the other as they went to talk amongst themselves, happy to have added a member to the group.

“Thank you, you’re my hero, princess." Eddie’s words caught your attention, finding his eyes already on you and smiling brightly.

"Oh, shut up,” you laughed, rolling your eyes as your face flushed at the nickname “And look at the road before you kill us all.” You finished pushing his chin to make him look at the road as you both laughed.

“Alright, road trip, baby, let’s go!” Eddie yelled, making the van erupt in cheers once more. You joined them this time, happy to be spending the summer with people you cared about.

Boy, were you guys in for it…

[ernmark]

When I was in college, a friend of mine got a job at one of the campus help centers where they're supposed to help students who are struggling get their feet under them.

Based on his training there, he insisted that he wanted to have a similar session with me in order to Fix me.

(This speaks volumes about the help the other students were getting, I think.)

See, the entirety of his assistance was sitting with me and creating a nice, tidy little schedule for my life in fifteen-minute increments, with tidy little spots for daily workouts and weekly meal prep. And he kept getting frustrated with me for not being able to put my activities for the day in any order, or assign them specific periods of time, or being willing to commit to following this militant schedule to the letter.

He wouldn't hear the fact that I'm a writer-- I have no control over when the words come. Sometimes I'll be doing something Very Important and I'll have to put it on hold because if I don't write this line of dialogue down Right This Second it's going to make it impossible for me to focus at all. Sometimes I'll be staring at a blank word document for two hours and get a sentence and a half done. Sometimes it'll be three in the morning and I'll have been writing for five hours straight but I won't be able to sleep until I get it written.

He wouldn't hear the fact that I have debilitating depression, and sometimes it takes hours to gather enough energy just to get dressed.

He wouldn't hear the fact that I don't actually know how long something like cooking is going to take, because every recipe calls for completely different cook and prep time, and I can't predict what's going to be utterly unappetizing until I look in the fridge for that meal.

There was no accommodation for the fact that I have a sleep disorder, which between the depression and the rest, makes it damn well impossible to predict when I'll be able to start sleeping, or when I'd need to wake up in order to be rested.

And that's what it comes down to-- there was absolutely no leniency or accommodation for anything outside of that ultra-disciplined, hyper-regimented approach. There was no allowance made for neurodivergence or disability of any kind. Despite knowing me for years at that point, he couldn't understand why I just didn't Try Harder. Clearly I'd succeed if I just did it his way.

A few things that did actually help me, for the record:

When there's something that I Know is going to occupy the entirety of my brain until I do it, I just freakin' stop whatever else I'm doing and do it. In my case, that's usually writing down whatever bit is in my head, but also it can be getting out of bed to make sure I turned the stove off, or making sure I locked the door, or paying my credit card bills in the middle of the night, or whatever.

A lot of my executive dysfunction is exacerbated by sugar/protein levels, so I keep a supply of protein shakes on-hand. It doesn't necessarily fix my depressive episodes, but it gets me out of those loops where I can't do X until I do Y until I eat and I have to eat first because if I don't eat now then I won't be hungry for dinner and then blah blah blah.

On that note: I can't control when/how I sleep, but I can control how many meals I eat during a day and roughly when they happen. Eating regularly helps to make the rest of my natural rhythms a little more predictable.

I have a short list of foods that my household can reliably eat and try to keep the ingredients for that stocked.

I do actually do a little bit of scheduling-- I set aside a few-hour-block on two days of my week to work out. Not because I Must do it, but so that I'm not preoccupied with the constant background radiation of "I should be working out more". If it's not Monday or Friday, it's not going to happen.

Forgiving myself for not being at peak productivity levels at all times. My boss will get what I have it in me to give them, and not more. My writing might not be at its best all the time, but it's a hell of a lot better than a blank page. Pushing myself past my limits to adhere to an impossible standard only exacerbates all those other problems.

[nope-4]

a/n: I wrote this a couple weeks ago and have not continued it since, so I decided to just post what I wrote

Danny was tired. It was exam season, the ghosts hadn't eased up on their attacks despite the stress he had with school, Jazz was off for college (meaning his parents expected him to pick up the slack and add her chores to his chore list...) he was more than tired. He was EXHAUSTED. You couldn't really blame him for what happened. ...at least that's what he's been telling himself.

Why is be being so dramatic, you ask? Well... he may have... sorta accidentally spaced out while flying and found himself waking up out in the middle of a forest full of pine trees. And this forest looked NOTHING like the forest in Amity park.

Now this wouldn't usually be a problem, right? Amity has such a big ectoplasmic presence, he could sense it from anywhere in the world! Except... as previously mentioned, he was physically and mentally exhausted, had barely eaten 3 sandwiches in the past week, hadn't gotten more than an hour of sleep a night (some nights getting no sleep at all) for over a month now... and to make things even better, he couldn't even ask for directions to a nearby city!

Ever since the whole Pariah Dark incident Amity (as in the city spirit of amity park) had decided that staying in one place was "too dangerous", so she'd started moving amity around the US with no apparent rhyme or reason.

Maybe it was because amity was a rather young city spirit, but this didn't achieve anything other than getting the GIW out of amity (they weren't able to reliably track the city location quickly enough to get there before it moved again, and amity has developed a tendency to leave them behind while moving herself, at this rate they would lose their funding before they managed to develop a way to locate amity quickly enough)

All that to say he's currently lost in an unfamiliar forest in the middle of nowhere, barely conscious, just praying to all the ancients (that he hadn't fought) that he could get some food and sleep before anything hostile could find him in this weakened state.

So far he had only heard a few distant animal noises, and there was no way he was attempting to eat something from a forest (he might have grown up eating ecto-infused food, but that didn't mean he had no standards for the food he put in his body! He wasn't going to attempt to eat something from an unfamiliar forest!

Danny hadn't gotten any closer to civilization from what he could tell, and he was running out of energy way too fast. So in a move of rare intelligence, he decided to find a tree with a strong looking branch, fly up to it, and drape himself on the branch for some hopefully undisturbed sleep. He didn't want any big forest animals finding him while he was asleep after all.

- - - - - - - - dipper pov - - - - - - - -

"hey mabel, isn't it weirdly quiet here today?"

Dipper and Mabel had gone into the forest with hopes of easing their boredom (and more importantly, get away from grunkle Stan and Ford's bickering), but so far they hadn't seen even a single red pointy hat peeking out in between the pine branches.

"maybe there's some new creature in the forest today..." he voiced out loud, a small part of him still wanting to prove himself to ford by finding something he had missed in his exploration of gravity falls.

"if it's scaring away all the other creatures, wouldn't it be better to call ford for help?" Mabel replied, worrying they might not be able to deal with it by themselves.

"nah, we can totally deal with this! we survived bill's weirdmageddon, we can definitely survive some weird new creature! have some faith in our strength, Mabel!"

"yeah, you're probably right, there's no use worrying"

[triforce-of-mischief]

@ailesswhumptober day 24: Deconditioning

Summary: Amidst gossipy civilians who don't care for nuance, Ravio wishes that his body wasn't a visible reminder of the past he can't seem to break away from.

Contents: references to past famine, eating disorder, weight issues, body shaming

Words: 1400

AO3

Please reblog to show your support! Likes do nothing.

Ravio couldn’t help it, even after all this time; he heard the pantry open and his ears perked up, instantly alert. He ran through his mental list of reassurances before he panicked over such a little thing.

Link is home. The house is secure. Sheerow would warn me if there was a thief. It’s not mealtime yet. Link must be hungry for a snack. We have enough that he can eat and we will have food later.

That made him feel better, enough that he was calm as he stood from his desk. Ravio wasn’t hungry, he never was before dinner, but he liked to see what Link had grabbed from their stores. It was an anxious habit, one that was older than his practice with keeping inventory of his shop, and Link understood by now. When Ravio came up beside him, Link simply held out a handful of cookies for Ravio to see.

“How many is that?” Ravio asked, and counted them. There were three cookies, and he tried not to let the worry show on his face. “Three- there were three left, right?”

“Yeah, I’m finishing them,” Link said. He opened the jar, angling it so Ravio could see that there were only crumbs inside. “Did you want one?” He offered one, but Ravio shook his head.

“No, I just-” Ravio wrung his hands, knowing how stupid he would sound. “We won’t have any left.”

“They’re going to be stale soon,” Link pointed out. “We can always make more.”

“What if we don’t have the ingredients? Or the time?”

“Then we can buy some from the bakery.”

“If we’re low on rupees?”

“Ravi, when are we ever low on rupees?” Link was starting to frown at him, and Ravio hastily backed up.

“I- you know what, it’s fine, actually. Enjoy the cookies,” he said quickly, and turned on his heel.

Link knew what to expect from him, but that didn’t mean he was aware of the irrational terror that Ravio felt every time some of their food ran empty. He gave his hero reason to worry enough, and he tried to keep it that way. Link didn’t mention it again, or food at all until he asked Ravio if he wanted to visit the Milk Bar that night.

Ravio didn’t see any harm in it. He liked socializing, and odd eating habits were easier to overlook in public. The bar was busy, and the two navigated bustle and chatter to order their drinks and find a table between a pair of similarly mismatched groups. A party of Hyrulians were opposite one of Lorulians, and both conversations could easily be heard from where Ravio sat in the middle.

“It’s disgusting, really,” said a Hyrulian woman with a wave of her hand. “Our hero revives their land and how do they thank him? By gorging themselves on their newfound harvests without a care for their health or their appearance.”

“It’s a repeat of what happened with the Zora queen,” her friend agreed. “She lost her restraint, and with it, her beauty.”

“I heard that the Zora, at least, has a magical scale that keeps her size in check!” the first woman chortled. “What I wouldn’t give to get my hands on one of those!”

Ravio felt heat rush to his ears, a telltale sign of slowly rising anger. He had known for a while now that Hyrulians were a bit vain about their weight. It was the fashion to stay skinny; rounder bodies were mercilessly mocked for no real reason. Link, with his small stature and lithe, slightly muscular frame, seemed blissfully oblivious to the twittering. Ravio, on the other hand, was painfully aware of the difference in the way that he was treated compared to his fellow Lorulians.

The Hyrulian women were correct, in one regard. With the loss of the Triforce came years of famine, insecurity, hoarding… Until recently, most Lorulians had reflected the lack of reliable sustenence. Even Ravio and Hilda, living in the castle, weren’t spared the hardships of a barren land. His princess, for so long, had resembled a ghost of her possible self, gaunt and frail, and Ravio wasn’t any better. With the return of their sun, and food, most Lorulians lived much happier, healthier lives. They were proud to maintain their gained weight, a symbol that they had made it, they had survived, and they were free to eat their fill and know that there would be plenty tomorrow.

“This place still gives me a weird feeling,” a Lorulian stranger muttered from behind Ravio. “These freaks recreate our famine in an attempt to look fragile and say that we’re the ugly ones.”

“Even the few who think they can act better have the most backhanded insults masquerading as compliments,” another chimed in. “Give them a taste of their own medicine, I say. Take that twig in purple, over there. He’s so adorably brittle, I could snap his arms in two.”

Ravio’s hands- his fragile, skeletal fingers- tightened around his cup. He hated this. He hated knowing that he looked like he didn’t belong. He hated the assumption that he liked having something wrong with him.

“Link,” Ravio said quietly. “I’m going home.”

“What? But we haven’t-” Link started to protest, but Ravio had already pushed his chair back. He pulled his baggy sleeves over his hands, tugging his hood down to hide his face.

Link caught up to him before he left Kakariko, walking silently back to their house. Ravio paused just inside the front door, and Link guessed why.

“You haven’t eaten enough today, have you?” Link asked.

Ravio almost brushed it off. He knew that he hadn’t, but he wasn’t hungry- but as soon as the thought entered his head, he realized that he was. It hit him all at once and he nodded, trying not to look desperate.

“C’mon, we have plenty of cheese,” Link said, and Ravio followed him to the kitchen. Link handed him some cheese and Ravio took it, his hands shaking as he took a bite. Link brought him some bread, too, and an apple, and Ravio tried to pace himself though he felt like he might faint from hunger. He was satisfied before long and he pushed Link’s next offer away, pretending not to notice his unhappy frown. Ravio was aware that he hadn’t eaten enough for somebody who had inadvertently starved himself all day, but if he ate any more he was going to be sick.

Ravio went to lay down and Link trailed behind, sprawling on the bed beside him. Link’s hand found his and he intertwined their fingers, tracing his thumb over Ravio’s skin. Ravio tried not to squirm under the attention but Link noticed and fell still.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Link whispered.

Ravio was silent for a moment, then relented. “Why does everyone think I want to be like this? I don’t care about being skinny, and I’m not afraid of gaining weight. In fact, I want to. But I can’t. I have to convince myself that I haven’t made a grave mistake every time I eat. If I try to force myself to eat more, I’ll lose it before it does any good. I barely eat enough to get by and it’s not my choice but I don’t know how to do better. If I could adapt like the rest of Lorule and feel safe enough to eat what and when I want, I would do it in a heartbeat. I don’t have anyone who’s willing to help me- Lorulians see my very existence as proof that I hate their bodies, and Hyrulians refuse to believe that I want to change mine. I thought everything would be easier once we fixed our Triforce, but- but it’s not. It’s not for me.”

Link rolled over to face Ravio, still holding his hand. “I care. Ravio, I care so much, and I want you to know that you can talk to me about this- about anything. You grew up in a horrible situation, and it’s okay if it takes time to trust again. I want to help you stay healthy.”

“I- thank you, Link.” Ravio snuggled closer, resting his head on Link’s arm. “I wish I knew where to start. It’s not fair to ask you to help when I don’t know what needs to be done.”

“It’s okay. You don’t have to know,�� Link said. “We don’t need to rush. You can take your time.”

[tinkerbelle05]

Pavitr x reader

Readers having her period

Now let me take care of you, okay.

Characters: Pavitr x Fem!reader

Genre: Hurt/Comfort

Summary: (Requested) Thanks for the reqs 🧡

Warnings: Period, Period Symptoms: cramps, bloating, vomiting, nausea.

Sundari = beauty

At first, Pavitr was kinda clueless about the whole thing. And you being parts embarrassed and parts prideful, you never let him in to see that side of you. So the most you’ll do is send him to the store and have him pick up some pads or tampons if you really need it. But he always has raspberry and black tea stocked and ready for when your period comes and you are craving it. He was really considerate like that.

And he always offered to do more for you even though he knew you’d say no. Like he’d offer to message your shoulders and lower back. To cook your meals and clean your house for you. It warmed your heart that he’d do all of that for you but you didn't need his help.

You were fine with planning. You cleaned your house the week before and you meal prepped things you know you can eat. You got any important work done and made sure no social plans happened during your period. You’ve been doing it this way for year and you were a pro at it.

That’s what you kept telling yourself as you laid on the ground, withering in pain. That you didn't need anyone’s help.

The cramps were getting too much and you couldn't keep down the pain meds either. And of course your heating pad had gone and disappeared on you as well.

Tears of frustration and pain swelled up in your eyes while you descend into further despair. Your phone was so tempting right now. It’d be so, so easy to grab it and dial Pavi’s number. But it'd be so hard to accept the help that’d come with it.

You couldn't explain the reason but being self-reliant is something so ingrained into who you are as a person. Maybe it's because you’ve been disappointed more times than you can count on your hand? Or maybe it's because you are naturally distrustful of strangers?

But Pavitr isn't a stranger.

He's the love of your life. He trusts you with his whole entire being and he showed you time and time again that a he's reliable person. Maybe you should call him. Despite your pounding heart and shaky hands you do so.

“Hey Sundari, how are you?” he greeted you, sounding cheerful.

“Hi Pavi, honestly I’m not doing too well. Can you please come over?” You asked him and waited with a baited breath for a response.

Immediately his tone changed to something more serious, “Of course I will come. Is there anything that you need?”

You listed off the things that you would like him to buy for you, pausing frequently when a particularly strong cramp hits you. And Pavitr listened to you with patience and understanding. God, that alone made you want to cry right then and there.

Within 30 minutes your front door opened revealing Pav holding a mountain of bags that you couldn’t help but gawk at. What you asked for wouldn’t even make up for half of what he was holding.

“Oh my, are you alright?” He questioned, with alarm in his voice. He dropped the bags carefully on the ground and rushed over to where you laid. “Do you want me to help you walk or carry you?”

“Carry please,” you respond. You closed your eyes a bit and just lent into his hold, he was warm and smelt good too.

A bit too warm but it was way better than the floor. Your back was starting to sore. He walked slowly to your bedroom and laid you on your bed carefully.

He sat at the edge of it and squeezed your arm lightly, “Are you cold or hot?”

You thought for a moment, feeling the air around you. Your legs were burning, it felt like everything was burning and on fire. “I’m really hot,” you muttered out.

He nodded his head, “I’ll find the remote and get you some water, okay? Are you hungry? Nauseous?”

Your stomach felt empty but you also felt really sick. The thought of food made your stomach twist and churn uncomfortably. You shake your head no.

Pavitr hums in response and brushes the sweat from your forehead. “Okay, I'll get a cold rag. Hang tight Sundari.”

He came back a few minutes later with some tea, a cold bottle of water, and a cold rag like he promised. Using the remote that he found, he turned on the AC and placed the cold rag on your burning skin.

“Okay, you rest up. I’ll cook and clean. Let me when you are ready to eat or need anything else.” He told you but a weak protest on your lips.

“Pavi, you don’t have to-.” You started to sit up in your bed, body feeling heavy and weakened from the lack of food.

He pushed you back gently, smile on his lips and twinkle in his eyes, “I don’t have to but I want to because I love you. Now let me take care of you, okay.”

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[greenbubblefactory]

Matchup for Rosa

Your platonic match is..

Ruggie Bucchi !

★You and Ruggie have the most “troublemaker duo” energy at Night Raven College. Even if you don’t actively seek out mischief, it always seems to find you when he’s around. If you’re the type to play things safe, well… Ruggie makes sure you experience just enough chaos to keep life interesting.

★Ruggie is annoyingly good at reading your emotions. You can’t fool him. The moment you start isolating yourself, he notices. If you try to shrug him off, he just shrugs right back and somehow keeps you busy without directly addressing your mood.

★He’s the king of “coincidences.” You never really have to ask for help because, somehow, Ruggie is just there when you need him. Lost something important? He “just happened” to find it. Can’t reach something on a high shelf? Oh, look Ruggie’s already climbing up to grab it for you. Too tired to move? He drags you up with minimal effort "Geez, what are ya, bricks? Get up, we’re movin’."

★If you’re someone who struggles with taking care of yourself, Ruggie has a weirdly reliable way of making sure you eat, sleep, and don’t completely neglect yourself. But he’s Ruggie,he won’t nag you about it like a worried parent. Instead, he tricks you into taking care of yourself. Forgets to eat? He just “accidentally” leaves extra food where you’ll find it. Too tired to function? Well, would you look at that he suddenly found the perfect excuse for you to sit down and rest.

★If you ever struggle with schoolwork, Ruggie is not the guy who will patiently tutor you but he will find a way to make learning bearable. He’s surprisingly clever and quick-thinking, so expect him to somehow help you find the easiest way to remember things.

★"You just gotta trick your brain into makin’ it fun. Like how I remember Leona’s schedule so I can avoid extra work. It’s a survival tactic!"

★Ruggie and you have a mutual agreement: if one of you is in trouble, the other provides an alibi. The problem? Sometimes he’s the reason you’re in trouble in the first place. "Okay, so technically this was my fault, but hear me out—".

★He’s always looking out for you in subtle ways. You’d think he’s just messing around and being his usual laid-back self, but the second he senses real trouble, his entire demeanor shifts. His casual smirk is still there, but now it feels sharp calculating. He keeps himself between you and potential threats, making it clear that if someone wants to mess with you, they’re also messing with him.

★If you’re ever feeling down, Ruggie doesn’t do emotional pep talks. Instead, he distracts you, pulling you into random little adventures,whether it’s sneaking into the kitchens, causing mild chaos around campus, or just lying under a tree and chatting about dumb things. He makes sure you laugh because that’s how he copes too.

★Despite his usual teasing, Ruggie actually respects your space. He’s an affectionate person in his own way, but he won’t force anything on you. If you like physical touch, he’ll get used to your constant need for hugs or casual touches. But if you’re not into that? He respects it. He might lightly nudge you with his elbow or ruffle your hair, but he never pushes past your comfort zone.

★If you ever get hurt physically or emotionally Ruggie’s response depends on the situation.

★Did someone hurt you? Oh, they better pray. Ruggie’s got a whole list of ways to make their life miserable without them even realizing it was his doing.

★Did you hurt yourself by being reckless? You’re getting a light flick to the forehead and a very exasperated sigh before he helps you up.

★Are you upset and need comfort? Ruggie won’t outright say anything, but he’ll casually stick around more than usual, making sure you don’t have to deal with things alone.

★You never have to worry about being alone with Ruggie as your friend. Even if you try to isolate yourself for too long, he won’t let you completely disappear. He’s not pushy about it he just keeps checking in, even if it’s just a quick visit with some stolen snacks.

★When Ruggie really considers you a close friend, you might start noticing little things:

★He shares food with you (*which is a big deal he doesn’t share food with just anyone).

★He trusts you enough to show when he’s actually tired or stressed, even if he doesn’t outright complain about it.

★He lets you in on his best schemes and survival tactics.

★He teaches you exactly how to get out of doing chores at Savanaclaw.

★He won’t admit it, but he starts looking out for you the same way he looks out for himself like family.

★If you ever thank him for being a good friend, he gets flustered. Ruggie doesn’t really know how to handle sincere gratitude, so he’ll just awkwardly laugh it off.But secretly? It means a lot to him.

★At the end of the day, Ruggie acts like your friendship is just another casual thing in his life, but the truth is he really values you. He’s had to fight for everything he has, and trust doesn’t come easily for him. If he chooses to keep you around, it means you’re special to him. You’re not just another acquaintance you’re someone he actually lets his guard down around, even if it’s just in the smallest ways.

★And in his own way, that’s Ruggie saying, "You’re one of my people now. And I always take care of my own."

English is not my first language so I'm sorry if there are any spelling mistakes!

[tampon-eater]

Hey YOU!!!! Yes, YOU! Do YOU have a history of posting online about activism but not actually doing any activism? No shame in that (unless you don’t have any intent to change that fact). Do YOU have any intent to change that fact???? You DO?? AWESOME!!!!! Below is a list of things you can do to actually benefit people!!!!

1. Attend protests!!!

Not all of us can organise, obviously, but it’s a lot easier to grab a cardboard sign and attend what someone else has organised. Now, don’t get me wrong, they can be dangerous (especially in the states). Be sure to read up on your rights and how to protect yourself before heading to one. And, for the love of god, don’t record shit.

2. Volunteer!!!!

“But Silas,” you say, “I can’t attend protests!!! [insert valid reason like lack of reliable transport, disapproving parents, etc]!!” Don’t fear, my child. Check out your local soup kitchens, food banks, and charities. Work the till at a charity shop. Dish out a hot meal to people who can’t buy one. The world is your oyster.

3. Care packages!!!

“Silas!!!” You cry. “Didn’t you hear me???? I can’t just turn up to places!” Well then, my pretty, do I have the solution for you. Construct yo’self a care package for people in need. It doesn’t have to be much. Things like socks, toothpaste, pads and a nice note tossed in a ziploc (jkjk please actually construct these with care) is enough. Keep care packages with you in case you find a person in need or give these to your local shelter to give out on your behalf.

4. Donate!!!

Old clothes? Charity shop. Food you won’t eat? Community pantry. Spare change? Gofundme and start clicking. You’d think this would be one of the easiest. You’d be surprised. If you have a favourite charity or a cause your passionate about and a fiver kicking around, go crazy.

5. Torture your government!!!!

Okay. Let’s say you’re broke as fuck with no way to get around. You still have petitions. Actually important ones that go to the government (and not ones that are kinda baseless like “end world hunger” or whatever) can do a lot of good. Call your representatives. Write to your MPs. Harass them until they can’t ignore you. Make a fuss!!!

If there’s like other stuff then idk add it on babygirl don’t be shy!!

[molagboop]

What are your headcanons regarding chozo newborns/fledgelings?

OH BOY do I have information for you.

A few basics:

Chozo lay eggs.

Most Chozo are born with an egg tooth on the tip of their beak which helps them break free of the shell to be born.

"Boriha" is a Chozo word used to describe children who have yet to fledge.

Chozo hatchling (very new guy edition) with an egg tooth.

The Chozo tribes evolved with different traits on their homeworld, which have only diverged further following their departure.

Mawkin and Thoha hatchlings are altricial: they're born blind and depend wholly upon their parents for the first few months. It takes two weeks for altricial babies to gain a full coat of down.

Thiloo (a tribe of penguin-like Chozo) hatchlings are semi-altricial: they open their eyes within the first 24 hours of hatching, and are born with a thin coat of down that reaches full thickness within three days.

Hatzu (ratite Chozo: think emu, ostriches, and cassowaries) babies are precocial upon hatching: their eyes are open, and they're covered in natal feathers. The strong-legged Chozo of the Hatzu tribe are the only ones capable of walking fresh out of the shell. The Hatzu are the only Chozo who lack an egg tooth: instead, their babies kick their way out of their shells.

There are more tribes than I've listed here, but the Thiloo and Hatzu have the most notable differences upon birth.

Pictured below: a Thoha baby, a Thiloo baby, a Hatzu baby, and two images of newly-hatched baby Raven Beak. The altricial babies look like little naked old men (not unlike many real baby birds: shout outs to baby pelican).

The Hatzu kid pictured above is being picked up by an adult: the most stable method is to place your hands under the kid's chest and lift. Most Hatzu hatchlings will start to panic if their legs are restrained: it's a survival instinct.

Most Chozo babies use their sharp talons to grasp the downy feathers on a trusted adult's neck, chest, and back. It takes about two months for a hatchling to be able to reliably grasp. Grasping is how baby Chozo get around for the first few years of their lives. 18 months is around the time Chozo will be able to stand and walk independently, but they still rely on their parents to carry them around long distances.

That's not to say they'll rely solely on their parents for locomotion: once those babies can run, they run.

A few examples. The large compilation image is of Raven Beak's mother with a cameo from the big (little) guy himself.

Baby Chozo ask for food by nudging the nearest adult's throat or negging them with screechy cries. The corners of their beaks are flexible and pronounced at this age so they can open their gullet wide for room service. They can eat some solid food (little bits torn off of an adult's dinner, grubs, small insects), or their parents can regurgitate nutritious, partially-digested matter from their crop.

Raven Beak and his dad. Baby guy opens very wide for optimal screechage and to ensure oncoming food makes it into his face-hole.

Pictured above: a Thiloo hatchling (left) and a Thoha hatchling (right). The corners of the Thoha kid's mouth are brighter and more flexible than that of an adult, allowing it to open comically wide.

Doodles of a newborn baby Mawkin and one with natal feathers (not to scale).

Hatzu hatchling doodles.

Chozo kids begin to fledge properly around five years old and learn to fly at seven. Mawkin children can start the preliminaries for their combat training as early as four and a half, but training starts in earnest at six.

This post talks about child-rearing practices and feeding. This post has more information about Chozo eggs and a basic child development roadmap.

[sohcah--toa]

bullet train/マリアビートル details ~

Hello!! I recently dug up the Bullet Train script (if you search it up, you should be able to find it relatively easily!! I'm not sure if it's completely reliable but it seems to be the first version) and listened to the soundtrack. (It's awesome, you should listen if you haven't already!!)

There's a lot of stuff here about マリアビートル, I hope you enjoy reading 🥳 (It's really ridiculous)

-- 1 ) LEMON'S CHILDHOOD // BACKGROUND(??)

I attached a photo for reference in the book!! :D (there's highlighter marks, I'm sorry) His backstory is tragic and aahh noo 🥹... I won't say much on it because we're all thinking the same thing. In the script, this is carried over when Lemon passes out because of the water. But apparently, in the final movie, this isn't shown a lot. In the book and movie, they aren't brothers and have a considerably colder relationship, so I can understand why the childhood scene in the cut is so much more wholesome. (Still supersuper cool though!!)

-- 2) "I'm forever blowing bubbles"

The original reason why this song was chosen for Bullet Train was because of Tangerine's West Ham United sticker (turns out, that's a football club). Hey!! But wait a minute!! There's a funny coincidence because Ladybug in the book was trying to become a football star. He has a quote that's like "my friend told me that someone like me could either become a footballer or a criminal, so I did both" and he says that his first crime was stealing a football.

The song delves into themes surrounding fortune as well!! I love their music selection 🙇‍♂️😤

-- 3) THREE ASSASSINS/グラスホッパー REFERENCES

Okay this part (in a way...) contains spoilers for Three Assassins, which is the first book of the "series"! ! The story revolves around a guy named Suzuki, who appears again in Bullet Train!! He kinda-sorta becomes friends with Ladybug and it's like 😊 they are so happy. To be completely honest, Suzuki's a bit traumatised but so is Ladybug, right?? Lovely friendship!!

It's also so interesting that he's reading a hotel buffet menu because his wife used to love eating at buffets and he adopted the habit of hoarding all the food as well. He's on the train to meet with his dead wife's family (which was extremely difficult for him after her passing).

-- 4) BULLET TRAIN REFERENCES IN THE MANTIS/AX

There's this other book in the series called The Mantis or AX for the Japanese version. This one isn't talked about a lot but if you like family stories, this book is so so soo good. It really pulled at my heartstrings when I first read it but I can't say too much without spoiling everything. Anyway, it makes a few references to Bullet Train and literally starts with the main character, Kabuto (an assassin), having a flashback to talking to Tangerine and Lemon during one of his missions, where they had the same target so they worked together. The Twins really respect him, actually, but find it funny that he's so careful around his wife (YES KABUTO, AN ASSASSIN, HAS A WIFE). Some characters reappear so.. :")) yay!!

-- 5) 777

Ladybug comes back!! He comes back in the latest book in the series; 777. So far, the Japanese reviews have been pretty positive and I think there's an English translation coming in November!! 🥳 I like how the title is 777; 7 like 7 tails in Nanao (七尾), car 7, his favourite number is 7 (if I recall correctly), 7 the "lucky number".

-- 6) THIS GUY

No one asked but I heavily dislike the Prince in the book. (to be honest, who doesn't...) He's just mean for no reason and likes ruining people's lives, makes fun of poor Ladybug (this really isn't that bad compared to the other stuff he does) and yeah, the list goes on. Also apparently he (heavily) tortures other schoolmates and it's not like he gets paid for it like the Twins or the other guys. He just does it for fun?? OK!! The premise of his character is amazing and it's great to see a villain that's actually just straight evil but since he's designed that way, we are validated when hating him ww. He talks about politics as well for some reason... keeps referencing historical tragedies.... man.

-- 7) ASAGAO/THE PUSHER

The Pusher is back too!! Weee~ (not really)

In the movie, it seems as though this entire part got cut out which, like, is reasonable. I attached a photo from the Grasshopper (2015) movie for reference hahaha. The guy in the black suit is the Pusher!! Yeah, he pushes people!! (not in the fun way!!)

He is in charge of protecting Wataru from the Prince's guy, although he's reluctant at first. He's obsessed with bugs and stuff. Whenever he opens his mouth, it's probably going to be about bugs. The Pusher's also strangely poetic. Maybe it's because he likes old bands like the Rolling stones? Oh!! And he gets mentioned in The Mantis.

And speaking of the Kimura family, Yuichi Kimura says something very true and it's:

"who do they gotta make the train toilets so nasty"

-- 8) LADYBUG IS COOL

This is very much a fact. In Mariabeetle, he gets kidnapped when he's 8 years old because he gets mistaken for a rich kid (after he lost a bet with his wealthy friend and had to wear his "rich person backpack"), then in the place he's being held captive, he escapes by HIMSELF since his dad isn't able to give the guys money for his son back (since they took the wrong person!!). But heyy he's resourceful and smart.

AND guess what?? He gets traumatised because there was this other boy being held but Ladybug didn't save him and it's haunted him ever since. This is also one of the reasons why he ends up helping the Prince even though he knows it won't do him any good.

Obviously, it gets worse from there. He makes it back to his family and they're pretty happy. Unfortunately, they're far from rich and Ladybug has to study extremely hard to get into a college. Spoiler alert, he doesn't. THE THING IS!! He studied so hard!! It's just that during his exam, some kid sneezed on his paper and he wiped it, smudging all his work and even his name!! Nanao! No!!

-- 9) TANGERINE BOOK RECS

To the Lighthouse - Virginia Woolf

"We perished, each alone."

-> He really loves that quote. A lot. Also he's a Virginia Woolf fan!!

2. Forbidden Colours - Yukio Mishima

-> He's also a Yukio Mishima fan... I wonder if he's ever read "The Sound of Waves". What would he think about it? Hahaha this will keep me up at night 😅 (<- SLANTED EMOJI!!)

3. The Sailor who Fell from Grace with the Sea - Yukio Mishima

-> To talk about Article 41 of the Penal Code of Japan. (Mr Kotaro Isaka, the author, studied law, by the way!! It's interesting!!) However, here, Tangerine quotes Mishima on Article 41 ;)

4. Hemingway and Faulkner

-> Actually it's a collection so it's not really a book recommendation but these two people are real - Ernst Hemingway (the Old Man and the Sea guy) and William Faulkner. They didn't really get along, by the way, and even though they respected the other's work, they criticised more than praised. Sounds like the Twins.

5. Demons - Fyodor Dostoevsky

-> "Crime is no longer insanity, but simply common sense, almost a duty; anyway, a gallant protest."

I think the author is a heavy Fyodor Dostoevsky fan, just because he also referenced his works in Three Assassins.

6. Crime and Punishment ;D

-> "Science now tells us, love yourself before all men, for everything in the world relies on self-interest."

(CONT'D) yeahh this book was referenced in Three Assassins and one of the characters is obsessed with it. Glad to see that Tangerine is a fan too hahahaha.

-- 10) LEMON IS AWESOME

Opinionated text here but Lemon is plain awesome.

"Between the principal's name and Doraemon's gadgets, it was blindingly obvious which one was more important."

To each their own and I know he's a criminal but he seems like he has no enemies. Sounds very wholesome.

-- 11) HORNET THE MVP

She's in Three Assassins AND the Mantis!! Hypercool. In both books, the Hornet is a team of a male and a female. The female is eliminated (this word choice ww) by Ladybug but the male is still up and kicking, though Ladybug feels bad about it. They use poison needles, like the movie, but they trigger anaphylaxis, which is a really dangerous allergic reaction that causes body shocks.

-- 12) SUZUKI: PHILOSOPHER AND ECONOMIST

"If people knew that they might be killed by someone tomorrow, economic activity would grind to a halt."

... well 😅 take from that what you will.

(that's Suzuki!!)

Cela dit... that's all.... so long, I'm sorry. But thank you so much if you read until the end!! I hope you at least found it a bit entertaining!! :"))

[fox-bright]

Watching the H5N1 stuff get worse and worse--I'm hoping we have until late next year before it goes reliably human-human, but it wouldn't surprise me if it was this winter--and not being able to do much makes me anxious, so I've been composing lists of stuff to do. I keep thinking, if this were August, 2019, and I knew covid was coming, what would I prepare? If this one goes off like the scientists think it might, it'll be much worse than covid.

Right now, I'm concentrating on food. My plan is to have enough hunker down supplies by mid-September that if things go bad in the normally-scheduled October-February flu season, we'll be okay simply not leaving the house at all. There are only two of us here now, and if things go bad there may be as many as four (as I have two separate friends I'd push hard to come stay here with us), so I need to make sure we have 4 meals x howevermany days I choose. I'm building up to six months, but I'm beginning the plan at three. While a lot of Serious Prepper lists have pretty generous caloric allowances, the MFH and I eat pretty light, and we're both smaller than the average adult human, which does give us even more squeak room here.

We started out with dry staples--bread flour, AP flour, semolina, rice, beans, pasta, lentils, powdered milk--though I have still to get powdered eggs (I'll dehydrate those myself), more dry beans (I'm going to use up a lot of what we have when I do my canning run for the winter, and so far I haven't been able to get my hands on kidney beans in any decent amounts), quinoa, and one more kind of pasta. Right now we have about 2/3 of what I'd want; we'll be holding things at this level, replacing staples as we use them, and if things look more serious we'll do another big shop and give ourselves additional stock of the AP flour, the bread flour, the rice (which we already buy in 40-50 lb bags anyway, we're Asian), the dry milk.

Then there's the perishable stuff; yesterday, the MFH and I took advantage of some very nice sales and got seventy pounds of meat for two hundred and twelve dollars. Beef brisket for stew, pork butt for sweet molasses chili, ground beef for hotter chili, pork loin for white bean soup. Still have to get chicken (which was pretty much sold out at our bulk place) for chicken soup (to be pressure canned), chicken and mushroom cream soup (to be vacuum-packed and frozen).

Very very soon it'll be time to harvest my leeks and my butternut squashes, for leek and potato soup (either finished with cream, blended to a smooth-ish consistency and frozen, or *not* blended down, and just socked away in pressure-canned Ball jars without the cream added; will it take me longer to thaw it, or to take my immersion blender to the hot individual meals later on?) and canned butternut for baking with or making soup or chili or making pasta sauce.

I might can a bunch of just potatoes, too, to keep 'em shelf stable (plus that front-loads a lot of the work of producing a meal later).

So I need to buy onions and carrots and potatoes and celery and garlic and mushrooms and corn, cream, red wine, tomato paste (because my vines got blight this year, sigh--I've managed to can one single run of tomato sauce and that's IT), ten dozen fresh eggs to dehydrate and powder and store in the fridge in case of egg shortages, several pounds of beans to be thrown into the chilis and...hm...fifteen pounds more, twenty pounds more, to have on hand? And then for non-canning purposes we'll need butter, oil, white vinegar (I've used a lot of it for pickles this year), various Asian food staples like black and rice vinegars, oyster sauce, black mushrooms and so on. As for pre-made, mass-produced foods, I'll probably make another post about them later.

While this is more than I'd generally stock in a single season, I do generally put about 100 quarts of home-canned food by a year, and I never keep less than 75-100lb of flour on hand anyway because of how frequently I make bread. So though it sounds like a lot up front, it's not hoarder level; everything I stock will be eaten, some of it pretty much immediately (the beef stew is so good). And putting it all by now means that we'll be less of a burden on our community safety net, if push comes to shove. When the covid pandemic hit I had dozens of jars of food on the shelf already, which gave me a little peace when things were looking scary. We were able to share some of our stores with people who hadn't had the great privilege of long afternoons spent seeing to the personal stores. That's a better option, to my mind, than needing to panic-shop right as things start getting a little wild.

Basically, if things go bad, we'll have food for a while. And if things don't go bad, we'll have food for a while. It's win-win. And it keeps the floor under my feet when I'm feeling unsteady, to be able to sneak down into the cool, still basement and look at row on row of gently gleaming jars of food security.

[dystopicjumpsuit]

Stars Beyond Number - Chapter 25

Leaning Together

Rating: M - Minors DNI

Pairings: Echo x Riyo Chuchi; Gregor x OFC Cerra Kilian

Wordcount: 3.5k

Warnings and tags: some angst; SMUT; fingering; orgasm control; fluff.

Suggested Listening:

Summary: Rex and Cerra have a long-overdue conversation; some things come to an end, while others are only beginning.

A/N: This is the final chapter of Stars Beyond Number; however, this is not the end of their story! I have a sequel planned, but since I've now caught up to canon, I have to wait to start writing it until after The Bad Batch season 3 ends. In the interim, I will be publishing more fics in this shared continuity, including a one-shot prequel featuring Fives x Reader x Cerra, a multi-chapter Crosshair x OFC set between "The Solitary Clone" and "Truth and Consequences," and a multi-chapter post-Umbara Dogma x OFC fic.

This story shares continuity with Martyrs and Kings, "Double, Double Boil and Trouble" (part 2 here) and "Do It Again," but all the fics can be read as stand-alones.

Start here | Previous chapter | Masterlist | Sign up for my tag list | Read on AO3

 We are the hollow men…

Leaning together

—T. S. Eliot, “The Hollow Men”

Cerra had no idea how long she slept. It could have been a few hours or a few days, for all she knew. When she awoke, she was famished and parched. No telltale snores or rustles came from the other bunks, and as she sat up, she could just make out the empty beds in the darkness: she was alone in the barracks. She yawned and stretched, then went looking for her companions. Outside the barracks, the garage was dim and silent. She made her way quietly to the refresher, then wandered into the kitchenette. 

Rex sat on a crate at the far end of the kitchen, studying a datapad, one foot propped up next to him as the other swung idly by the side of the crate. For a moment, in the faint light, he looked so much like Fives that Cerra nearly stumbled over her own feet. He glanced up and smiled, and the spell was broken. 

“She lives.”

“For the moment,” she said with a tiny grin. “Anything good in the conservator?”

“Dex’s,” he replied. “Had to survive without Gregor somehow.”

Sounds like a nightmare, she reflected as she rummaged through the conservator until she found a few takeout boxes. Opening the first container, she wrinkled her nose. 

“Acid-beet salad? I’m gone for a couple weeks, and you all fall to the Dark Side.”

“I’m just surprised there’s something in the galaxy you won’t eat,” Rex replied.

She grunted with disgust and tossed the container back into the conservator. Luckily, the rest of the takeout containers contained actual food, instead of crimes against sentients, and she settled onto the raggedy old sofa and dug into a cold bowl of spicy Gargon gumbo. The garage appeared to be empty aside from the two of them, which was just as well, since she had a feeling he wouldn’t want anyone to overhear what she was about to tell him.

“Where is everyone?” she asked around a bite.

“Scouting mission,” he replied. “Trying to chase down a lead on Omega.”

“Gregor told me what happened,” she said soberly. “Do we have a plan?”

“Workin’ on it.”

“What can I do to help?”

He smiled. “Start by getting healed up. We’ll know more when the boys get back.”

She hated not knowing what to do. She itched to act. But Rex was right; there was no point wasting energy and potentially drawing attention they didn’t need unless they had reliable intel. So she took another bite and pondered the best way to phrase her next sentence. After Hart’s departure, Rex had debriefed her about her experience with the ISB, but with the rest of the team also present, she hadn’t wanted to reveal such sensitive and dangerous information.

She cleared her throat. “There’s something I need to tell you.”

“What is it?”

Inhaling deeply, she began. “When Yularen was questioning me, he asked me about Ahsoka Tano.”

Rex froze, eyes wide. He didn’t respond, so Cerra forged ahead.

“They think she’s still alive. He said she had been on Raada when I was there. They thought I was working with her.”

Instead of the relief or excitement she expected to see on his face, a look of horror descended on his expression.

“She—she could still be alive,” she said. “I know you were close.”

“Cerra…”

“I’m sorry I didn’t say anything sooner, I just wanted to wait until I could talk to you alone.”

“Cerra—”

“We could find her. She could join us—we could protect her—”

“Cerra!” Rex cut her off emphatically. “Stop.”

She sat back, bewildered. “I thought you’d be happy to find out the kid was still alive.”

“I knew.”

She blinked. “What?”

“I knew Ahsoka survived,” Rex said in a deliberate tone that revealed he was weighing his choice of words with great care, “because I was with her.”

She stared at him uncomprehendingly, her brain utterly failing to process this new information.

“She’s the one who got my chip out,” he continued. “We escaped together. We were the only survivors of the Tribunal.”

Her mind whirled, and quite suddenly, she felt sick. A memory flashed in her mind: 

“Raada?”

“It’s an agricultural moon,” Fireball said.

“I’m familiar,” Rex replied.

“You knew she was on Raada,” she whispered.

His jaw firmed. “I knew.”

“And you sent me in anyway?” she asked incredulously. “Without full intel? Knowing that I could be walking into—”

“I was trying to protect you,” he interrupted.

“Me? Or the Jedi?” she asked sharply.

“Both of you. I had no reason to expect you to run into her. It’s a whole kriffing moon!”

“She is the reason the Empire came after me in the first place!” Cerra said furiously. “I’m nobody! Do you really think they would have given a shit about a missing supply officer and a clone trooper if there hadn’t been a Jedi involved?”

“She was never supposed to be involved!” Rex exclaimed. “It was just bad luck.”

“Why the kark didn’t you tell me she’d survived?” she demanded.

“The same reason you waited until now to tell me Yularen mentioned her,” he snapped. “It’s dangerous to know too much. I was trying to keep you safe—all of you.”

“It’s dangerous to know too little, gods damn it!” She sprang up from her seat and began to pace. “What if something happens to you? How are we supposed to defend ourselves from a threat that we don’t even know exists?”

“I did what I had to do to protect the soldiers under my command,” he said, gritting his teeth.

“We’re not in the GAR any more, Rex. There is no command! There’s just US!”

“Maybe so,” he replied, “but if you think we’re not at war, you’re lying to yourself.”

His voice was even, but she’d known him long enough to tell from his short, sharp breaths that he was keeping his temper in check through sheer force of will. She forced her clenched fists to relax and took a long, deep breath before she replied.

“I. Know.” She ground out the words. “You think I don’t know? I just spent two weeks in their hands. So don’t kriffing talk to me like I don’t understand the stakes, Captain.”

“What do you want me to do?” he asked. “How would you suggest I proceed, Lieutenant?”

“You could start by trusting your team,” she replied.

He reared back as though she’d slapped him. “You think I don’t trust you?”

“What else haven’t you told me?” she demanded.

He hesitated.

“What else?” she pressed. “I know there’s more. You might as well tell me now; seems unlikely anything could be as sensitive as the location of a known Jedi fugitive.”

He glowered at her for a moment, but at last, his shoulders slumped in defeat. “There is something else. Intel Echo got from the Bad Batch. It seems the Empire has cloned the creature that attacked Coruscant early in the war. We don’t know why. At least, not yet.”

Cerra felt a brief stab of betrayal that Echo had kept the intel from her as well, but she shrugged it off. She hadn’t been exactly open with him, either.

“Is that all?” she asked.

“That’s the only thing that was my decision to keep from you,” he hedged.

“So there is more,” she said.

“Nothing that affects this group,” he replied. “You know as well as I do, Cerra; some things will always have to be kept secret. Some information is just too sensitive to share.”

She sighed. “I know. But when it compromises the safety of everyone on this team? I can’t stay if you’re going to keep secrets that could get us captured or killed.”

“You’re right,” he admitted. “I can’t promise that I’ll be able to share every piece of intel I get, but… I’ll do my best to make sure something like Raada doesn’t happen again.”

She let out a long, slow exhale before she replied. “Thank you.”

It wasn’t perfect, but Cerra knew it was the best promise he could make. The worst part was, she understood exactly why he’d made the decisions he did. She didn’t envy him. Being a leader was never easy at the best of times, and in the growing darkness and danger of the galaxy, it seemed to become a nightmarish balancing act of having to choose between bad and worse options.

Thank kriff it isn’t me.

“Hungry?” she asked.

Rex smiled slightly, accepting her peace offering. “Maybe. What’s left?”

“Acid-beet salad.”

Something smelled good. Scratch that; something smelled amazing. A burst of laughter echoed through the garage, loud enough that Cerra heard it from beneath the navigation control panel in the cockpit of the freighter. She set aside her hydrospanner and wandered out of the ship, drawn inexorably by the savory aroma and the sounds of merriment. 

In the kitchenette, she spotted Gregor. He was working efficiently: chopping, stirring, cleaning—multitasking with ease, even as he bantered and giggled with Fireball and the other clones who hovered around his workspace like vultures. A large pot on the stove appeared to be the source of the intoxicating scent; she could hear the telltale sizzling, and every so often, Gregor would add some mysterious and unidentifiable ingredient to the mix.

He had his sleeves rolled up over his forearms, and Cerra took a moment to ogle him—er—appreciate the view before the others spotted her. Holy kriff, how had she not noticed the way he handled a knife before? Her mouth went dry as she watched his deft movements. He glanced up, and his mischievous smile told her he’d caught her in the act. His gaze flickered briefly down her body, and quite suddenly, the garage felt very warm.

Fireball called out a greeting and snapped her attention away from Gregor, and she plastered an innocent smile on her face as she approached the kitchenette.

“What’s cooking?” she asked, taking a position next to Fireball. “Smells great.”

“Joopa roast,” Gregor replied. “Been in the freezer since our last market trip.”

Ah, yes. The market trip when he—

“It has to cook for hours,” Fireball said mournfully. 

“It’ll be worth it,” Gregor replied. “Trust me.”

“It’s not nice to torture people,” Fireball complained. His eyes widened suddenly and darted toward Cerra as he realized what he’d said. “Uh—I mean…”

She snorted and nudged him with her shoulder. “Please. You’re not wrong, anyway. An hour of smelling Gregor’s cooking, and I would have folded like a cheap sabacc deck just to get a taste. Nobody tell the Empire. Might give them ideas.”

Gregor set the roast in the oven and began to tidy up the kitchenette. “How’s it goin’ in the freighter?”

“Coming along,” she replied. Suddenly seized with inspiration, she added, “Could use some help clearing the fresher tank if anyone is free.”

Identical expressions of revulsion descended on the faces of every clone assembled, and they all suddenly remembered urgent business elsewhere. As they drifted away from the kitchen, Cerra leaned closer to Gregor as he wiped down the countertops.

“I guess that just leaves you,” she murmured quietly. “Want to give me a hand in the freighter?”

He froze for an instant as his eyes met hers, and then he began scrubbing the countertop with renewed vigor.

“Sure,” he replied. “Give me a minute to wash up, and I’ll meet you inside.”

“It’s a date,” she said, causing him to glance around the garage to see if any of the others had overheard her. “Be sure to seal the entry hatch when you come in. Wouldn’t want the fresher tank smell to get out into the garage.”

Fifteen minutes later, she heard the sound of the freighter’s hatch sealing, and she turned around just in time for Gregor to pull her into a hungry kiss as he pressed her back against the durasteel bulkhead behind the cockpit. His mouth consumed her, warm and soft, as his tongue grazed between her lips and his hands roamed over her body, cupping her breast through her coveralls, pulling her tightly against him. He broke away from the kiss, only to drop his lips to her throat, setting her entire body alight with arousal.

“Please tell me that was a euphemism,” he whispered hotly in her ear as he tugged down the zipper of her coveralls.

“It was a euphemism. I’d never subject you to—oh, kriff!” She gasped as his fingers slid down her body and unerringly found their way between her thighs.

“Shh,” he whispered, kissing her softly. “You did say you wanted a hand.”

She clung to his shoulders, whimpering quietly as he touched her with a gentle deftness that nearly made her knees buckle. With his free hand, he held her head, stroking his thumb across her jaw and his fingers down her neck. He kissed her everywhere: her lips, her face, her shoulders, her chest, lavishing her with pleasure as her body flooded with heat.

She slid her hand down his torso, reveling in the feeling of his warm, solid chest and abdomen as she reached for his cock. She could feel him straining against his trousers, warm and hard and perfect. He let out a tiny, hushed grunt as she took him in her hand, massaging him through the fabric. As she fumbled with his belt buckle, though, he shifted away from her, releasing her jaw and gripping her wrist in a gentle but inescapable hold. He pinned her wrist to the durasteel wall next to her head.

“Next time,” he murmured between kisses.

A fresh wave of arousal swamped her. Gregor’s breath caught as he felt it, and his fingers slipped into her effortlessly.

“Do you like it when I take control?” he asked quietly, gazing into her eyes.

She nodded, unable to form coherent speech, but letting out a hoarse moan of affirmation.

“Shh, love.” He pressed his lips to hers to muffle her sounds of pleasure. “I love to hear you, but the others are still outside.”

“I can’t help it,” she gasped. “I’m close—”

“I know,” he whispered. “Can you hold it back for me?”

She jerked her eyes to his, startled. “But—”

“Will you?” he asked, intensifying his caress to the point that she felt like she was losing her mind.

“Please, please—”

“You can trust me with your pleasure,” he murmured. “I promise. Will you wait until I tell you?”

She panted, her eyes wild and desperate. “I—yes—”

“Good girl.” He pressed his lips to her temple, then abruptly shifted to her mouth, stealing her breath and sending her head spinning.

She focused all her effort on holding back the tide of pleasure, but Gregor didn’t make it easy. He found and exploited her every weakness. His fingers, his lips, his teeth, his tongue: he used them all to work her into a frenzy of arousal until her body shook, her lungs heaved, and she could no longer contain her tiny moans of ecstasy, no matter how hard she tried.

He moved his fingers inside her, pressing deep and finding a place that wrenched a cry from her throat. Abruptly, he released her wrist and clamped his hand over her mouth, resting his forehead against hers as he gazed into her eyes. She pleaded with him silently, her body at the very limits of her control.

“Let go,” he whispered. “Let it happen.”

Her last coherent thought was an overwhelming sense of relief, and then her consciousness splintered into a million pieces as her body jerked and spasmed in his hand. He worked her through it, teasing every last drop of pleasure out of her body. He pulled his hand from her mouth to wrap around the back of her head as he claimed her lips in a kiss that stole her breath and drove everything from her mind except his taste, his scent, his touch.

His hand gentled and slowed as the tension in her body began to ebb, and then he carefully withdrew his fingers from her body and wrapped his arms around her, holding her close as she melted against him. She rested her head against his shoulder, breathing hard. He smoothed his palm down her spine between her shoulders, again and again, the movement draining all the energy out of her muscles and making her body go limp in his embrace. He pressed his lips softly to the side of her neck, inhaling deeply.

As he exhaled, he whispered, “I never knew I could love anyone the way I love you.”

Her fists tightened reflexively, clutching his shirt in her hands as she buried her face against his neck to hide the tears that suddenly stung her eyes.

“You don’t have to say it back,” he said. “I know last time was a mistake—”

“I love you,” she interrupted. She kissed his neck and jaw frantically. “It was an accident, not a mistake. I love you.”

She kissed him again and again, desperately, her lips finding a way to communicate everything she wanted to say when words failed.

“Loving you could never be a mistake,” she whispered.

That sofa is laughably beyond capacity, Riyo reflected as she observed the scene before her. Cerra snuggled on Gregor’s lap as Fireball tucked her sleeve up around her elbow and began to doodle on her forearm. Riyo had no idea what was going on with that particular trio, but they seemed cozy. Next to Fireball, Nemec and one of Howzer’s men squeezed onto the sofa as the rest of the team sat on crates around the holotable. She made a mental note to earmark funds for more furniture for the garage. The team only continued to grow, and things were starting to feel crowded in the repair shop.

“Tell me again, what’s the point of this?” Howzer asked. “It seems a little… Odd.”

“Just trust us,” Fireball said. “It shouldn’t work, but it does.”

The opening jingle of the Great Galactic Bake-Off began to play, and Riyo tried to ignore the pang of sadness that Echo wasn’t there to watch the finale with them. In fact, she hadn’t heard from him in weeks—not since the day he’d commed to tell her that he would be staying with the Batch indefinitely. Riyo understood. Of course she did. There was an element of risk every time they exchanged comms, and his mission was dangerous. But understanding didn’t make it sting any less.

The truth was, her situation was a lonely one. She had more political allies than actual friends, and very few people whom she could trust. Echo had been all three, and now he was gone, and she didn’t know if or when she would see him again, or if things could ever be the same between them again. He hadn’t ended their relationship—at least not officially—but they seemed to be in a strange and apparently indefinite holding pattern. As a result, she’d been surprised when Cerra had commed her to invite her to the garage to join the watch party. 

“Echo mentioned you’re a fan,” Cerra had said, as though that explained everything.

In fact, it explained very little, but Riyo wasn’t about to question the invitation. It was the first time anyone aside from Echo had asked her to visit the garage for something other than plotting the Empire’s demise. She’d accepted immediately, and here she was with three of her bodyguards, eating some sort of pastry that Gregor had baked. He’d called it a Corellian ryshcate, and it was delicious. Riyo had to hold herself back from taking a second, though she couldn’t resist casting a longing glance at the platter.

“I still can’t believe Garr Tevv made it to the finale,” Gregor said in a disgusted tone.

“What’s wrong with Garr Tevv?” Riyo asked. “I was hoping he’d win.”

Gregor, Fireball, and Cerra gasped in dramatic horror, and Riyo felt a moment of brief panic that she’d made a faux pas. Then Cerra and Fireball burst into laughter while Gregor shot them both exasperated glares. Cerra wrapped her arms around Gregor’s neck and kissed his cheek. His face softened immediately into a smile.

“Team Runa,” he declared. “She deserves it after everything that happened this season.”

“Agreed,” Cerra said as she snagged another ryshcate—her third—and snuggled back against him. “Any other result would be a gross miscarriage of justice.”

She looked at Riyo with a hint of speculation in her eyes. “Just how much influence does a senator have? You know, if, hypothetically, the unthinkable happens and Garr Tevv wins. Could you have him arrested, or something?”

Riyo choked back a shocked laugh, but then she saw the teasing light in Cerra’s eyes and relaxed. “Oh, yes. I’d just have my guards detain him. That definitely wouldn’t cause an interplanetary scandal or end up getting me removed from office and tried for gross misconduct or abuse of power.”

“It’s settled then,” Cerra grinned as she dug into the bucket of ice next to the sofa and retrieved two bottles of ale.

She offered one to Riyo, who accepted, feeling a strange sense of warmth unfold in her chest as she settled in to watch the show.

“Who is Garr Tevv, and why don’t we want him to win?” Howzer demanded.

“Long story,” Fireball and Gregor said in unison.

“Jinx, you owe me a Coke,” Fireball said immediately as Cerra laughed. “Now everybody shut up. It’s starting.”

The End.

[kata-sans]

Raising Stripe

Chapter 17

Tweek and Craig were waiting anxiously in a pediatric waiting room. Butters had called them and given them the address to a reliable doctor that has been briefed on the situation. They jumped up as soon as the nurse called their name.

The nurse took the baby from Tweek's arms and began to measure and weigh him. She assured the couple that Stripe’s weight was healthy. She checked his heartbeat and fever. She wrote down all the baby's vitals and escorted the family into a room to wait for the doctor.

After five minutes the door opens to reveal Butters’ trusted doctor. They were equally shocked and relieved to see Nichole Daniels. “Hey guys, it's been awhile. I heard your baby is sick. Let me have a look.” Nichole said as she checked the chart the nurse had filled in. “Let's see, vitals are all good. Baby does still have a slight fever. Tweek can you set Stevie on the table and undress him.”

“His name is Stripe actually.” Tweek responded as he guided Stripe's arm out of his onesie.

Nichole giggled, “I should have known. He was Craig's guinea pig. Now let's see what's going on with Stripe.” She grabbed her stethoscope and placed it against the baby's chest. Stripe whined and pushed against Nicole's hand. “Aww I know baby, you don't feel good, but this is for your own good.”

She pulled out a special tool to check Stripe's nose and ears. Stripe was not having it, he was squirming and crying out. He was familiar with check ups, they usually ended with a sharp needle poking him. Finally she squeezed Stripe's belly and he curled up in pain.

“Well it looks like he caught a stomach bug. Luckily it's not serious. I'll write a prescription to help with the symptoms. Make sure to buy him pedialyte to keep him hydrated.” She handed Craig the note. “Now, I need to ask a couple questions. I understand that you guys are still new to parenting, have you guys considered vaccinations for Stripe.”

“We honestly didn't think about it but we always want what's best for Stripe. So yeah that's fine.” Craig answered honestly.

Nichole nodded, “I will have my receptionist schedule you an appointment next week when he's fully recovered. I read over the questions you answered about Stripe's milestones, he seems to be healthy in terms of development. I also noticed that Stripe's diet is strictly formula, is there a reason?”

“I th-thought he was still too young to eat solid food. Is there a list of foods I can feed him?” Tweek asked.

“Absolutely! Stripe is developing like a healthy baby so you need to reintroduce foods to him like a baby. Start with one solid meal each day. You can introduce baby cereal or a puree. Here is a pamphlet on how to introduce solids. If you have any questions just call me and I'll do my best to walk you through it.”

Stripe was growing tired of waiting as the adults talked. He sat up feeling dizzy. He wanted to be held and cuddled. “MA-MA!...DA-DA!” Stripe cried out before sobbing. Tweek quickly picked him up and began to console him. Craig rubbed Stripe's back trying to soothe him.

Nichole who was watching the scene awkwardly spoke, “I uh think you guys are good to go. Stripe is definitely ready to go home. Maggie in the front will set up your next appointment.”

The couple nodded as they continued to soothe the baby. Stripe clung tightly to his mama. He enjoyed the back rubs, it reminds him of when he was a guinea pig. His sobbing diminished into little hiccups and soon Stripe fell asleep.

Ch16

Ch18

[bandhyukoh]

[Eastern Standard Times] Hyukoh and Sunset Rollercoaster: The Indie Collaboration of the Year

This interview belongs to Eastern Standard Times. December 5, 2024. By Andrew Yee.

Eastern Standard Times: How would you introduce yourself now? What is the most important thing to know about who you are today?

Kuo: I'll introduce myself as a lead singer, guitarist and music producer from Sunset Rollercoaster and the owner of my label Sunset Music.

OHHYUK: I'm OHHYUK from HYUKOH and I play guitar, sing, and I am also the producer for HYUKOH. While he (Kuo) owns his own label, I’m on the label DooRooDooRoo and I mainly focus on the creatives.

Eastern Standard Times: What were your first impressions of each other?

Kuo: Shy, but still brave. He does things. Just in a shy way.

OHHYUK: Very clever and talented, and very smart. When I first met him, I immediately realized he’s something really different, and he does his job very well.

Eastern Standard Times: Both group’s last releases were in 2020. Why did this feel like the right comeback project?

Kuo: It was really exciting. From the beginning, we didn't expect that we were going to do such a big project. 

We just thought we were going to just make some music, maybe two songs, three songs, a small special EP. But slowly the ambitions started growing during the process.

OHHYUK: I remember from 2017 to 2018, suddenly there were so many collaborations happening. I wanted to collaborate with the other musicians, but I didn’t want to make just one single or one track, and when I asked him (Kuo) to make an album, he agreed. I think it’s a very interesting collaboration, and was something I was waiting for.

Eastern Standard Times: Did you feel nervous about releasing music again?

OHHYUK: Are you nervous?

Kuo: No, not really.

OHHYUK: Yeah, me too. 

Eastern Standard Times: What are your memories of the first songwriting camp at Music Village 1939 in Gapyeong?

OHHYUK: Uh, the food was… bad.

Kuo: It's a small town. And I think we didn’t expect we were going to have really good food over there, but in the end, we found that we were eating the same food over and over again during the whole week. But I don't care about the food because we somehow still made really good music. So even though the food was bad, I think it was still worth it.

Eastern Standard Times: What is the process like creating music with ten different musicians? Did you approach every song in the same way?

Kuo: We created four songs in our jamming sessions in Gapyeong. And the other eight songs we created on the internet, file swapping. We also went to a friend's house, and he had tons of synthesizers set up, so OH and I just jammed over there and finished the arrangement of 'Antenna' (also listed as 'Aaaannnnteeeeennnaaaaaa'). I would say we had a lot of different approaches to making the album. 

Eastern Standard Times: How did traveling to Seoul and Jeju Island influence the songwriting process?

Kuo: When we went to Jeju Island, the album was almost done actually. We somehow agreed to make one more song over there, but we still don't know what to do with it yet. 

OHHYUK: The trip was actually a vacation. It was snowing, so we were stuck in the Airbnb, but there was a pool, and nobody was swimming. So we just used the pool as a reverb hole, and we were recording in the swimming pool and some other rooms. It was really fun.

Eastern Standard Times: What does ‘AAA’ mean to each of you?

OHHYUK: Something good.

Kuo: Something reliable, trustworthy. Your time is guaranteed.

Even though English is not our native language, somehow we still make music in English. We love the way we approached it and tried to build a space for all our written lyrics. We tried to describe a situation so it isn’t a narrative and everybody can project their own idea about the music or the album. 

I think AAA has multiple meanings and everybody can put their own idea into it. That’s how we interact with people. 

Eastern Standard Times: During an interview in 2020, Kuo talked about music being its own language that connects people. Why does this idea resonate so much with both of you?

OHHYUK: Because we are from different cultural backgrounds, even though I can speak Mandarin, we still have little differences. But music is really simple. If you play something, then you know whether it’s good or bad. I think this kind of approach makes everything easier. 

Kuo: I think music is a language for sure. It‘s even built into our genes or animal instincts; when you hear something, you will get emotional feedback from it. So it's a certain kind of communication, subconsciously, I would say. So that's why I think everybody has this ability to communicate, even through music or frequencies.

And I think that that's why we have this bond to make music, I think our frequencies somehow match together.

Eastern Standard Times: How are Australian audiences different from other crowds?

Kuo: We’ve been to Australia before. And I think in Asia, our fans are usually more quiet, but every time we go to Western countries, especially Australia, people get more excited. Australia is kind of special because it's mixed with Western countries and Asian countries, but I can tell people get more excited.

I think people move their bodies with the music more. In Taiwan, people just sit there and it feels like they're judging us. They're happy inside, exploding inside, but the way they enjoy the show is by staring at us and judging us, and that’s how it is. 

Eastern Standard Times: Where would you love to perform next?

Kuo: Antarctica. Play to some whales.

OHHYUK: Actually, India.

Kuo: Oh yes, he wants to go to India.

OHHYUK: I’ve never been, so I really want to have a show in India.

Eastern Standard Times: What’s something we don’t know about each of you?

Kuo: My and OH’s birthday is only one day different. Mine’s October 6th.

OHHYUK: And mine’s October 5th.

[ghostofasecretary]

[placeholder, to be filled with more goals later] list

Monday plots:

- (Mon) call that one guy and see if you can become a New Patient (i hate everything) (i don't WANNA) (i do want reliable access to meds 2k25 so. UGH. FINE. GOD) (find office phone number, that's step number 1)

- (Mon) update finances spreadsheet

- (Mon) write cards MONDAY? correspondence, something like "Dear [Name], Happy New Year! I hope you had a peaceful and restful holiday season, and I hope 2025 brings you exciting opportunities and joy. All best, Ghost" is fine

- (Mon) walk cards to post office; also check in re: the fucking "locker" (9400 140 2023 71 001 476 469) (got follow up step for later)

- (Mon) rinse off, shampoo hair

- okay. well. The Guy does not exist (or at least i could not find them) so i'm back to finding a new guy. have a list. gotta decide if i want a psych or pcp; if i trusted the pcp i could theoretically knock out my pap smear with them but this would require me to trust the pcp, so. that seems. unlikely. i trust psychs more than normal doctors for whatever reason. so maybe go with the psychs? but also my last visit with my pcp was March so i WILL run out of refills from that guy in the next three months and DO need a pcp. uuuuuuuuugh. let's...call that pcp office and check c 1pm. next available isn't till mid July! try another guy

- (Mon) make pumpkin bread to share with fremb

- (Mon) sort out Polluted Yarn

- (Mon) hang with J Monday afternoon (2ish) <- solidify plans, send text (done Sat night, Sun morning)

- (Mon) get that jump ring measurement to J for 3d printing so you can fix that cami

- (Mon) what am i gonna make Monday to eat Tues/maybe Wends for work lunch. tofu curry! yum! nice

- (Mon) eat leftover dal + broccoli

- do limited amount of lesson planning. like. more than zero not more than two

- nutrition spreadsheet

food:

- (1/13? 1/14?) use up last two bananas

- make pumpkin seed granola to give yourself more snacky foods

- (try granola bars with dates????)

- (Sun 19) wash blue shirt

(Sun 19) wash clothes:

- (Sun 19) wash misc clothing

- (Sun 19) wash gold sweater

- (Sun 19) wash another sweater

med quest:

- call hospital pharmacies re: med availability

- see about dental etc care here

- call lgbt friendly pcp providers

""Ghost's academic life:""

- poetry (1) type edits to t1, 2) type edits to t2, 3) type draft of M, 4) work on M and/or R (1/10/25), 5) do new smooth English translation (your fav song, that one) + send, 6) set + confirm meeting time)

- new poems! yay!!

- uh. class on Friday??? fuck my lifeeeeeeeeee (or let me rework my priorities)

- i really need to like. do a general Arabic grammar review

- and get back into Anki for Persian

mending:

- coral house skirt mending

- pj pant hem maintenance (coral hole, grey hem)

- preventative-ish darning/reinforcement of every canvas bag you own

- (Sun 19) repair main slip

- hem blue pants so you can actually wear them

- sew strap covers onto green dress

dreams:

- haircut nice for Ghost brain good of long Ghost neck

- could i grow herbs in my room? cilantro (and maybe mint, if controllable, which. it's mint) would be ideal

(Sat 18) plant green onion sprouts

- any free performances in my area? try to go See More Live Art

- give yourself more knitting time

list items 1/2/24 in blue

outfits 2024

outfit spreadsheet?? meh

meal plan for Being Cheap

free grocery store

make list of food banks to explore

1/7/25 list leftovers in purple

"contact" "people" for your ""career""

sort papers for real and not just for fake

make a scarf for A with the other yarn?

bonus Arabic reading practice (prolly not gonna happen)

list items 1/12/25 in black

done list (min. 1 day ago):

- (Fri) change sheets + wash sheets & apron

- (Sat) game with friends

- (Sat) 2025 Calendar

- (Sat) start yogurt making (finish tomorrow (Sun) 7:45am)

- (Sat) roast squash seeds

- (Sat) make banana bread with 3/5 bananas

- (Sat) turn mint skein into a yarn ball

- (Sat) call M

- (Sat) refill meds for the week

- (Sun) job paperwork

- (Sun) request anticonvulsants from doc

- (Sun) clean toilet, bathtub

- (Sun) attempt once again to destain/deep clean bathroom walls and floor boards

- (Sun) repair coat pockets

- (Sun) repair coat lining hem

- (Sun) groceries (stay under $30! thoughts: i would love peanuts and dried apricots but. strugglier items for budget, so select produce (+ milk?) first. sweet potato!! more broccoli/leafy greens. carrots and onions in bags if available. tomatoes, obvs. good on ginger for the next week. could buy an onion bag to cut up + freeze some extras for future use, which could save on future bills. also remember food pantries Are An Option To Explore) (well. got apricots and peanuts AND paper towels which took me over $30 but once my roommates pay me back for their share it should only be over by, like, 4 cents)

- (Sun) help roommate out a minimal amount. or for. two hours, of course i took two hours, fuck me

- (Sun) TIMECARD

- (Sun) MAINTENANCE REQUEST FOR BEEPING. GAH. text housemate for advice (Sat) it's on the rent portal, cool, you can do this

- (Sun) CANCEL OBGYN APPT (call tomorrow even tho closed b/c insurance bs)

- (Sun) make tofu + broccoli with peanut sauce. or spiced broccoli + tofu curry? need to use broccoli first and also eat spinach soon. or just cook broccoli! fine!

- (Sun) see what MS texted (re: med advice?)

- (Sun) ask group chat for rubbing alcohol/hairspray/acetone to try on coral skirt marker stains!! (also J + A) (can you borrow from someone)

- (Sun) wash another slip

- (Sun) leisure items: knit, drink tea, finish Jenny Nicholson video, new Cult Flav, check out some cookbooks to browse

[thomine]

in the nick of time

wanderer x reader, 1.1k words

there is a time for everything: leaving the office, eating meals, being vulnerable, death, and friendships.

general audiences, death & grief, no mention of scaramouche's name, food mention, not proofread

note: work tag :: office (day 2 of au august 2023)

When the bell rings, indicating that a workday has come to its end, only one person obeys it while the rest slave away on their keyboards, desperate to fulfil the day’s quota. With a heavy mission to prove you’re worthier than whoever the higher-ups rejected during recruitment and three tasks still on your list of responsibilities, you remain in your seat. However, your sight follows the colleague with pretty purple eyes and strangely fitting bowl cut as he leaves the office.

“Someone’s caught your attention?” your desk mate of 6 months asks, nudging your arm. You barely know him. “Is it his devilishly charming looks that stole your heart?”

“He would be all you described if he smiled once in a while,” you comment to be polite. Please, please pick up the hint you’re not in the mood to talk, especially when you have time against you. Unfortunately, he persists even if you’re furiously typing on your keyboard.

“What’s there to smile during work?”

He has a point… your back aches and your eyes hurt from staring at the screen all day, but that still doesn’t entice you to talk to him.

“Anyways,” he continues, “If I were you, I would be curious too. Ever since he joined, he’s never worked overtime. I wonder what’s his secret to finishing his tasks. I’ve not heard any seniors complain about him either, which says something since all the seniors know how to do is complain.”

A cough is heard from behind. You straighten your back and tab through your opened windows, hoping it seems like you’ve not been listening to your desk mate’s rant. The gaze of the senior pierces through your innocent cover, but thankfully, she’s more concerned of the one who made baseless remarks.

Your desk mate gets up to follow the senior. You praise whatever force of nature brought about this luck and return to work.

If you’re quick, perhaps you can chance upon that mystery guy you saw at the neighbourhood playground. You’re certain it’s the colleague who leaves on the dot. You’ve seen his retreating figure far too many times to be mistaken, yet you can’t be certain you saw him. As the man played with a child you recognized from the hospice care where you volunteer on weekends, he emits a laugh too gentle for whatever variant of grumpy your colleague wears on his face all day.

Fueled by curiosity, you find yourself blazing through your tasks.

As you’re finishing the last task for the day, the senior gives your table a visit. She plops down a list of items with a red star at the end.

“Your reliable friend’s work,” she explains before strutting away, obviously to take revenge. You swallow a groan.

Defeated, you give up on chasing your answer today. When you’re done, the security guard is your only companion in the office. He advises you to head home since it’s late, and you plan to listen to him, yet at crossroads—your house a turn away and the playground straight ahead—you surprise yourself by staking a step forward.

The tallest tower of the playground presents itself. Not a single laughter is heard.

You should return now that you’ve confirmed you’ve missed the chance—again—but you press on.

Hidden in the shadows of the night, a person sits on the swings. His head hangs low.

When he notices your presence, he lifts his head up and you’re graced with purple eyes.

He’s crying.

In his hands is a piece of paper with the hospice care’s logo at the top. You’ve filed such documents several times, and they only spell pain. The inevitable has begun.

“Hey, um,” you start, trying to recall the words you were told when your grandmother passed away too, but they don’t feel authentic for this situation. There’s something else you needed to address first. “I won’t tell anyone.”

He gets up, crushes the paper in his hands before sliding it into his pockets.

“Good,” he breathes out, words bordering on a threat and a plea. “What are you doing here anyways? Were you stalking me?”

You feel heat rise to your face.

“I wouldn’t call it that…” you reply. “I didn’t know you’d be here.”

“You’re not very convincing when you speak as if you’ve been caught,” he points out, walking past you. He could have bumped into your shoulder, but his choice not to feels like he has the bullet to take your life and misses his shot on purpose.

“You don’t own this playground,” you bite back, tiredness from the day creeping on your tongue. Yes, you’re glad you found the answer to your mystery guy, although you wished it reveled itself without opening a can of worms. You really should have listened to the security guard. “You’re crying right in the open. Of course, someone would see you.”

He turns and narrows his eyes. That’s the grumpy face you’ve seen for months. You’re starting to wonder if you’re drunken on moonlight to have hallucinated whatever crack of vulnerability he showed.

“Whatever,” you add after you remember what he’s going through. Grief is not something to treat like a petty argument. “I’m sorry, okay? We can pretend as if this never happened.”

And true to your words, he leaves you in dust.

The next day, when the bell rings, he disappears as he normally does, except you catch the way his movements are sluggish. He barely has the energy to frown too.

The next week, his routine does not change, drastically at least. He stopped buying packets of drinks to bring home after a long day of work, but he still leaves on the dot. In fact, there are days when he leaves a few minutes earlier yet returns the next with darkened eyebags.

“You’re still always staring at him,” your desk mate of 6 months and a week notes. You ignore him lest he piles up your tasks again. This time, you’re determined to finish work before the convenient store closes, unable to see someone grapple with such devastating truth alone.

“If this is about the last time, I’m sorry okay.” Your desk mate's apology falls on death ears.

You don’t even say goodbye when you clock out before him, mind focused on doing one thing.

You leave the convenient store with a heavy load of instant noodles and snacks. If your calculations are right, it should last your greiving colleague a month.

The next day, you arrive early and place the food items on his desk.

There’s buzz around the office now. Mr Never-Smile has a secret admirer? People whisper. You’re bracing yourself for an unpleasant confrontation, but it never happens.

Instead, you receive a note on your desk a few weeks later.

I ran out of food. - You know who

author's note: this fic took a turn i did not expect, but the ending is rather cute if you think about it. i would love to expand on this one day. it talks about themes i find delicious such as grief.

[charlesandmartine]

Friday 19th April 2024

Jeffreys Bay, named after the whaler Captain Jeffreys and now referred to as J-Bay is now the centre of the surfer scene and apparently often ranked in the top 10 world surfing arenas. Jeffrey and Glendinnings opened a store here in 1849 and a town sprang up around them. Because no doubt of the surf, It became a hippie hangout in the sixties and seventies. Now with a total population of more than 27,000, it is first white, followed closely by black; the first language being Afrikaan. It seems to be a town divided with clearly an impoverished black community living in poor circumstances. Then there's obviously a rich set both residents and white holiday makers. But the town is being developed with new housing hopefully to replace the shantie townships, very impressive new shopping mall with upmarket shops, schools and a new hospital under development. There is hope for this place.

This morning we looked at the must-see tourist attractions and came up with a short list, a very short list. We selected the Kabeljous Nature Reserve; 2.5k of coastline enclosing wetland and bushveld with many available routes to hike. We were most pleased, we found this a highly agreeable place. As we arrived, so a local school party was just leaving, so clearly it is used as a teaching aid. We followed paths to a view point and then on via a salt lagoon subsequently onto the dunes and the sea for lunch. Back through a type of heather and circumnavigating the area. Very enjoyable. The only experience denoting not being in our own back yard might have been the snake tracks in the sand. Oh, and the lovely weather perhaps.

Calling in at the shopping mall we collected a couple of Danish pastries for a princely sum of 40p each!

Tomorrow we are moving on again and will be entrusting the remainder of this holiday into the care of Trailfinders, starting with the Shamwari Game Reserve. So we didn't wish to buy anymore food which meant we needed to eat out and the place we ate on Wednesday sprang immediately to mind. The food is superb at this place on the beach with the beach on the floor. They say that dressing for dinner is not necessary, in fact if you have shoes on, you are overdressed. The staff do not wear shoes; and the waitresses resemble the women in hi-de-hi with their little shorts. Martine partook of the hake and chips, I had oxtail. Excellent.

We shall miss this place, it's been great, but we are very much looking forward to the next phase and the game reserves.

ps We have a gas geyser to supply hot water. It runs cold. The only reliable way we have found to make the water hot is to turn the gas hob on!