#i submitted my application OVER A MONTH AGO

[starbuck]

guys… i got an interview!! 🎉🎉🎉🎉

[wwillywonka]

.

[phagodyke]

was abt to go out to the gym but the adhd referral service finally emailed me to say they need me to call them to book an appointment and it says in the email they don't make appts via email but I'm DEAF I Know they know that bc its on my fucking patient form UGHHHHH

[ilostyou]

who wants to help me strangle this graduate school's application portal

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

Imagine…Meeting Dean In Prison

Pairing: Prisoner!Dean x guard!reader

______

“Hi,” said prisoner 83907. You paid him no attention, the man with the cocky smiling offering a wink in your direction. You knew his type. A bastard behind his smirk. “Hello guard…52119608. That’s too long. How about sweetheart instead?”

“How about silence is golden, prisoner. The warden will be here soon.”

“I didn’t know they had women guards in a mens prison.”

“I work in the offices hence why I’m watching you. If you’d prefer one of the men to come in, be my guest. They might kick your ass after I’m finished but let’s go get one of you-“

“No. No, I’ll be on my best behavior.” He sat back in the chair, holding his cuffed hands in his lap. “You think the warden’s gonna throw me in solitary?”

“Depends on what you did. Didn’t I tell you to be quiet?”

“Yeah but I might not have the chance to talk to anyone for awhile so I might as well while I can.” You sighed, the man shrugging. “I decked a guard.”

“Yeah, you’re getting solitary.”

“I had a good reason.”

“I’m sure you did.”

“He was feeling up some chick. Red head.” You instantly thought of Kelly in HR. She’d gone home sick all of a sudden, pretty shaken up. You looked at the door and figured you had some time alone still. 

“Tell me everything that happened. Now.”

Two Days Later

“Mr. Winchester,” you said. He lifted his head up from where he sat in the interview room. “Or do you prefer Dean?”

“Dean is good. What’s going on, sweetheart? I went from solitary to being told I’m out on early parole this afternoon.”

“We were able to verify the story you relayed to me. The parole board was already reviewing your case and your selflessness in protecting one of our staff swayed them into releasing you early.”

“Someone must have been in my corner. Not often a prisoner’s word is listened to,” he said. You leaned against the door frame, Dean’s smile soft now. “I wonder who vouched for me.”

“Kelly’s my friend. And that particular guard is an ass. So thank you.”

“You looked up my wrap sheet, didn’t you.”

“You stole a car to get your injured little brother to a hospital. You’re not exactly evil incarnate, Dean.”

“Yeah but I’m known to steal a heart or two. Might have to lock me up for that,” he said. You rolled your eyes and he offered you a coy smirk. “What do I owe you?”

“Stay out of trouble for me Dean.”

“Only the bad kind,” he said. “Scout’s honor.”

Six Months Later

“Get off! Jerk!” you shouted, turning and punching the man trying to steal your purse from behind you. You kneed him in the groin and he dropped, giving you enough time to get behind him and pin his wrists together. He reared his head and threw you off but a quick punch from someone else put him back on the ground.

“You okay?” said a familiar voice. Your head snapped up, the man shaking out his wrist, staring blankly. “My prison guardian angel?”

“Name’s Y/N,” you said, righting yourself, the man groaning on the ground. “Move and I’ll shoot you.”

Dean flagged down a cop car that drove past, the man quickly gone and leaving the two of you on the sidewalk. 

“Isn’t getting drunk a violation of your parole?” you asked. He smirked and held up his chin.

“I was pardoned two months ago by the state. Funny considering I never submitted an application.”

“You must be lucky,” you said with a nod. “You look good. Got a job?”

“Bar tend under the table right over there. Going to school right now. I probably shouldn’t have told you about the under the table thing.”

“Eh. I like you Winchester. You’re good,” you teased. He grinned and shoved his hands in his pockets. “What?”

“You’re not a prison guard anymore are you.”

“What gave it away?”

“You have flour in your hair.” You threw your head back and groaned. “You work in one of the restaurants around here?”

“Maybe,” you said, taking a step past him. “You want to buy me a drink?”

“Told you I’m good at stealing hearts sweetheart.” He grinned and you walked past him, heading for the bar. 

“It’s one drink. It’s a ‘you owe me’ drink in fact. No stolen hearts here,” you said. He caught up with you at the door and leaned in close, nearly brushing his lips over yours.

“No stolen heart. Yet.”

__________

[joelswritingmistress]

Neighbors with Benefits: Part 7 (Joel Miller x f!reader)

Part of the #hotdilfsummerchallenge @hellishjoel

Pairing: Joel x f!reader

Words: 3500

Triggers: Smut

You’re my girl. The word went off like an echo in your mind all day long. You’re my girl. You’re my girl. You’re my girl.

Did that make you Joel’s girlfriend? You weren’t sure; but it was good enough for now. More than good enough. You went from low to high in the matter of a few softly spoken words.

You sat at the kitchen table, typing away at your laptop as you filled out job applications that matched your career choice in the immediate area. As you submitted several over the course of an hour or so, your mind began to wander and you thought about how your adult life could unfold.

Get a job. Turn it into your career. Continue to see Joel. Things get more serious. Both of you are making decent money. You move into the house next to your parents with him - after your parents finally approve. You get married, have babies and your parents can see their grandchildren whenever they want because they’re one-hundred feet away. Everyone lives happily ever after. The end.

You tried not to get ahead of yourself, but that day you allowed yourself to indulge in the fantasy. Joel had eased your mind just enough when said those words to you; and you knew he meant them. From what you could honestly tell, Joel was just as wrapped up in everything as you were.

As you were about to hit the submit button for a job in the next town over, you suddenly paused upon reading one crucial detail that hadn’t been a part of previous applications: You will be staying overnight at the academy for a four month period.

Staying overnight, hmm. You thought about it for a moment and then closed out the browser. That just won’t work.

Mentally, you were all in. A short time ago you couldn’t wait to start your career, find an apartment and get on with adulting. Now, things had changed; but you knew that was part of life. You had two things in mind, and both of them could be achieved, you knew. Still, you acknowledged there were some obstacles to be cleared before the happily ever after could happen. One, Joel’s divorce needed to be finalized. Two, you had to eventually tell your parents you were seeing your older, still-married neighbor.

Those can wait. You smiled, not letting your inner monologue bring you down. I need to decide what I’m wearing to dinner.

Joel sipped on a glass of wine and stared across the way. You were dressed in a classy black dress and your best jewelry. "You’re too good for me," he said with a grin, making you laugh.

You shook your head. “I’m way out of my league with you.”

Joel shook his head again and grinned wider. “Maybe we’ve both met our match then.”

“Maybe.” You raised your eyebrows and smirked at him, tapping your glass against his and leaned closer to him as you rested your foot on top of his under the table.

"Here are your salads," a waiter whipped in, laying plates down in front of each of you and refilling the empty glasses of water beside your wine. "Your meals will be out shortly."

"Thank you.” You politely nodded and the man nodded back before wandering to another table.

"Thanks," Joel echoed, and then quickly regained your gaze.

You took a sip from your wine and gently smacked your lips. His eyebrows raised and he looked down at his plate with a smile when he felt your foot travel up the inside of his pant leg along his calf.

Joel chuckled to himself and then looked back up at you, promptly throwing his napkin down over his lap. “You're going to get us kicked out of here,” he teased.

You forked a small bite from your salad and stopped rubbing your foot against him. A smile formed on your face. “We wouldn't want that.”

"Don't tempt me.”

You laughed lightly and teased him back, whispering. "The things I want to do can wait until we get home."

Joel had to keep himself from laughing out loud as he sported a big grin. He leaned forward and spoke quietly. "You could always tell me about it."

“I thought we were supposed to have a serious talk,” you whispered, still grinning.

“Oh, is that why you keep rubbing your foot against my calf?”

You laughed a little louder and then looked around the immediate area, seeing that no one was paying attention. You then returned your attention to Joel.

"I could live with getting kicked out of here," Joel added with a wink as he rounded up another bite of lettuce. "Just sayin'..."

"You bring out my worst," you joked with a smile, never breaking eye contact.

"And you bring out my best, honey." He smiled back. "That's why I think this is going to work.”

You wanted to lean across the table and give him a kiss but rather you reached for his hand on top of the table and gave it a gentle squeeze. “I want to be with you.” There… you said it. You said the words out loud that you had been wanting to say; and to say you were pleased by Joel’s immediate response would be an understatement.

“I want this, too.” He nodded, never breaking eye contact, “I think about you just about every second I’m not with you; and I don’t know if that’s ever happened to me quite like this.”

“Me either.”

“You’re young-”

“So what.” You stared more directly at him. “I want this. I’ve never wanted a man the way I want you. Does my age bother you?”

“No.” Joel still smiled, keeping the mood light. He squeezed your hand back and you smiled wide at him.

“Good.”

He brought your knuckles to his lips. “Your parents,” Joel began, “They're-”

“Let me worry about that,” you cut him off again. “We don't have to sort everything out right this second.”

“Fair enough.” Joel kept your hand in his and you smiled simultaneously when you felt his foot run up the inside of your calf now. When you bit your lip he grinned more mischievously and lowered his voice, "Weren't you going to share details about what you wanted to do to me?”

Your eyes remained on his as his thumb began to trace circles over the back of your hand. "We should have ordered a booth so we could've sat together on the same side," you told him.

He tipped the corner of his mouth up in a half-smirk. "Well, normally I hate it when couples do that shit so you'd have to give me a good reason to consider it.”

"I'd give you plenty of reasons to consider."

"Tell me."

You knew by now that Joel could do some serious dirty talking to get you all hot and bothered but you weren't as confident in your own ability to do so. You had things running through your mind but you started giggling when you thought of yourself actually saying them out loud.

"More water?" The waiter returned with a pitcher.

"I'm fine, thank you,” you told him, leaning back to sip your wine instead. Joel put a hand up as he declined.

"Just another minute until your food comes out."

Joel didn't miss a beat, looking back to you as the waiter stepped away. "I'll take the lead on this one," he told you with a smile. "You see, if you were seated right next to me I'd slowly run my hand up the inside of your thigh..." Joel took another bite from his salad. "And I'd use these two fingers to slip your underwear to the side…”

"What if I'm not wearing any?"

He raised his eyebrows in the slightest bit of intrigued shock and then let his eyes drop toward your waist. His tongue reactively danced across his lips and then he grinned more devilishly than before. Joel looked over his shoulder, down at his lap and then back to you. "My God, woman.”

You were so enamored by Joel that you couldn't help but shamelessly let out what you were feeling; whether it be through the subtle intimate touches or quiet flirtation. It amped up your heart rate because the territory was so unfamiliar.

“I think it's best we didn't land ourselves a booth then." You grinned, "Because…”

Joel had both of his elbows on the table with his hands folded beneath his chin as he leaned almost halfway across the table now. "Because what?"

You motioned with your eyes to the waiter, who was holding a tray by his shoulder. "Guess the rest will have to wait."

He turned, wanting to slip a one hundred dollar bill into the guy's shirt and tell him to get lost, but he slowly leaned back in his chair with a painful smile on his face.

You felt pleased with yourself seeing him just a bit flustered. You never felt completely in control of him, and you hoped you could make it last.

"Steak dinner for you sir." The waiter placed Joel's food down, "And baked Tilapia for you ma'am." He looked back and forth between the two of you. "What else can I do for you?"

"Nothing," you said at the same time, and then you added. "Thank you so much."

The man nodded again and walked away.

"You know... you should dress up more often," you told him.

He chuckled to himself and began cutting the steak in front of him. "If it'll bring this side out of you-"

"No really." You smiled at him. "You look nice."

Joel shrugged and took a bite. You could see an uncomfortable shift in his posture because of the compliment. Despite you finding his fleeting moment of coyness to be adorable, you decided to get back to being flirty and a little silly to keep the vibe of the night going. "Why don't we get these meals to go and, uh..."

He glanced up to you and stopped chewing on the bite in his mouth, seeming to be eager to agree despite just getting the overly expensive meals. When he realized you were kidding he shook his head. "You're enjoying this huh?" he finally asked with a smile.

"Enjoying what?"

"You know what."

You laughed and decided to focus on your dinner. "You're right. I'm sorry."

"Don't say sorry to me, say sorry to, uh…." Joel subtly motioned to his lap with his fork and then as if he was speaking to a dog he said, "Down boy," making you laugh a little louder.

Joel chuckled and looked around to a few other diners that looked in your direction. He then looked back at you with a laugh of his own and lowered his voice again. "We're doing dessert at home."

You continued to laugh with him as you forked a bite of fish into your mouth. “Deal.”

By the time dinner was done, you felt like you were in a notch deeper. Joel slipped an arm around your waist as you exited the restaurant and the two of you made your way up the quaint, little street toward where he'd parked his truck.

"You do look beautiful," he told you as you went.

“Thank you.”

He opened the passenger door and helped you up into the truck, careful not to let you slip in your heels. You thanked him again and watched as he crossed around the vehicle to enter through his side. Joel closed the door and walked around, joining you in the car before resting a hand on your left leg. "I'm curious to see if you were being serious about the no panties thing."

"Still thinking about that huh?" You teased and glanced down as the muscles in his fingers twitched against your thigh in anticipation. "Only one way to find out."

He leaned across the way and kissed you while sliding his hand further up your leg. You massaged his tongue with your own, pressing your eyes shut hard. When his lips parted from yours, Joel took a long, deep breath out his nose. He slid his hand away and leaned back in the driver’s seat."We've got a forty minute ride home.” He looked over at you, biting his bottom lip for just a second and said. "I think I’m going to draw this one out."

You shook your head at him, noting he was making it obvious that he was taking back control of the situation. "You're going to be wondering the whole ride," you told him.

"I may just have to surrender to you before then," he admitted, beginning to pull the truck out of the parking space as he headed down the road.

"So, is this our first real date?" you asked him.

Joel grinned and gave a nod, “I suppose it is.” He linked his fingers through yours and took the steering wheel in his left hand.

You turned to him with a smile and knew he could tell you were purposely staring when he grinned to himself.

"I love that you wrote your number on a post-it,” you said to him honestly, smiling so wide that it began to make your jaw ache.

Joel laughed out loud, “The perks you get of dating an older man.”

“One of the many.”

“You know I thought about you the entire night after we first met on your back step.”

“Really?” You knew you must’ve sounded like a giddy teenager.

“Mmm…” Joel swallowed hard but a closed-mouth smile remained on his face, “I couldn’t believe you showed up at the bar that night.”

“I couldn’t believe you were there. Holly asked if I knew you and when I looked, I almost didn’t know what to do.”

Joel glanced over at you, “I’m glad you picked there of all places.”

“Me, too.” You added, “I, uh… I’ve never just done something like that before. I never wanted to. I don’t do one-night stands, or even just hook up to hook up. Not that I care if people do.” You were rambling, “My friends do all the time, it’s just not me.” You took a breath, trying to reel in your thoughts and were relieved when Joel began to chuckle.

“I know,” Joel said to you, “And you don’t have to explain.”

“I haven’t had sex with anyone since October of last year.”

He glanced at you now.

“Before you,” you added.

Joel grinned and brought the back of your hand to his lips. “Whatever happened in your relationships before me is your business. All I care about is today… and tomorrow… and the day after that.”

You smiled and leaned across the way, glancing at the open road in front of you. You planted a single kiss on his lips, vowing to take on his mindset and to stop worrying about his soon-to-be ex wife. Joel was right. The past was the past. The future was yours for the taking.

He kissed you back, glancing at the road quickly before kissing you again. "I got an idea."

You grinned, willing to follow anything he said at that moment. "What?"

Joel smiled and then floored the pedal a little harder, weaving in and out of traffic before taking an exit halfway between the restaurant and his house. He pulled the truck down a series of backroads before coming to a clearing on top of a cliff that overlooked a large body of water that stretched on for miles.

"Where are we?" You asked him, staring outward at the darkened sky.

"Nice ain't it?"

You smirked. "Something tells me you've been here before."

"Can't we let the past be the past?" Joel laughed, reiterating his previous statements.

"How many women have you taken here before me?" You raised your eyebrows at him in a playful accusation.

"A couple," he admitted, "As a younger man." And then added, leaning across the way to kiss you again. "But I just couldn't wait the forty minute ride."

You kissed him back and closed your eyes. "As long as I'm the last woman you take here..." They were a bold choice of words, but you said them anyway.

"I can agree to that," Joel told you, feeling your tongue eagerly slide back in his mouth. Your hands reached for his belt and Joel moaned into your mouth when he felt it unlatch. He pulled back for a moment, reaching for the handle that launched his seat back away from the steering wheel and then pulled you onto his lap upon shoving his pants down past his knees.

Joel moved his hand between your legs and a smile formed on his face as he fingered your underwear to the side.

“I was just teasing about the panties,” you whispered against his lips, watching his eyes close. A smile twisted back onto his face

"Save that one for our tenth date,” he choked out, leaning his head back against the headrest when you lowered yourself down onto him. Joel let out a satisfied sigh when your bodies finally connected after the prolonged sexual banter at dinner that left him yearning to touch you.

You began to move on top of him, making every part of his body twitch with pleasure. You grabbed him by his tie and kissed him hard. Immediately, you could tell he enjoyed your moment of aggression because he let out an extended moan into your mouth.

You abruptly pulled your face away. "People don't come up here, do they?" you breathed against him, not stopping as you rode him.

Joel didn't seem to care as he helped to move you with his hands; his eyes were still closed and mouth partway opened.

"Joel." You smiled and he let his eyes flicker open with a groan and a lopsided grin.

"Why, are you imagining the paper headlines?" he asked. "Local construction worker arrested for lascivious acts in a public place with his hot, young girlfriend?" He pulled your face to his and kissed you again, urging you to continue.

Girlfriend. That was all you needed to hear. Everything he had just said ignited a fire inside you as he penetrated your lips with his tongue with force. Your hand wrapped around his tie again and Joel groaned.

You didn't stop this time, breathing heavily against his mouth as he thrusted up from beneath you. When you parted your lips from his to moan, Joel grabbed your face again, guiding your mouth back to his. You could tell he was having a hard time controlling himself as he tried stopping you several times from then on out, but you didn't let him.

"You're not going to get yours," he warned, almost unable to get the words out, while keeping his eyes closed tightly as his eyebrows pressed together. His hands gripped your hips hard and you grinded on him forcefully, moaning his name out into his ear.

The muscles in Joel’s abdomen tightened and he held you against him harder as his bare thighs tensed. “Fuuuuck…” he bucked his hips up, letting out a series of moans and curse words all the while pushing your hips down forcefully against his as he began to come. Joel’s eyes were pressed shut and through gritted teeth he hissed your name.

You loved the few times when you got him so worked up that he couldn't control himself. Watching his face in that moment of pure ecstasy made your entire body feel hot and satisfied.

Joel's head finally fell back against the top of the seat again and he breathed heavily in and out with his eyes closed. You remained on top of him and touched your lips gently to his, releasing his tie from your hand before climbing off of him to get back in the passenger seat.

He didn't move for a few seconds and then finally glanced over. "Okay..." Joel took a deep breath. "Now I'm ready to fuckin' go to sleep."

You snickered and readjusted yourself next to him.

"Told you you weren't going to-" he began, but you leaned back across the center console and kissed him again. It was a hot, passionate kiss despite the intimacy that had just come to a close in the cab of his truck. "We have a long ride home," You reminded him, "So, don't get too sleepy because you owe me one once we get there."

Joel smiled and looked down before pulling his pants back up. He looked at you with a lazy grin. "You got it, honey.”

CLICK HERE FOR PART 8

@pedropascal111 @axshadows @mybritishstyle @untamedheart81 @amyispxnk @goodvibesonly421 @cosmic006533-blog @ashleyfilm @maybetomorrowgirl

[vy-canis-melodis]

the following is a blog post, written by tanja, in the Bird HRT universe:

UPDATE and a cancelled article!

Hi all, it's been a long time since my last blog post. Here's the deal; I was in hospital. Long story short, some things went pretty wrong, and here I am, having to deal with a huge backwards step in progress then having had to retrace those steps with additional gooey complications and therapy.

Anyway, here's a journalistic article I was pretty close to finishing and submitting to actual newspapers before everything went down and I had to cancel it.

Rejecting Humanity - Or, How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Just Be Myself

As I write this, I'm sitting in the waiting room of a Hospital cross Research Laboratory in London. By the time you're reading this, I'll have been on my treatment journey for over a year. What treatment, you ask? Well, it's Humanity Removal Therapy. One year ago, I undertook a radical new procedure which slowly transforms you from human to another form. Perhaps you've seen strange creatures out and about; a snow leopard at the supermarket, a dog at the drive-thru, or a tuatara at the thrift shop. Or, perhaps, you haven't; as I write this, the number of patients might not yet have reached triple digits worldwide.

Perhaps I should introduce myself. My name is Tanja ------, and I am an Iberian Azure-winged Magpie, scientific name 'cyanopica cooki'. One year ago, I was fully human, and now I look like a hybrid between our two species. So, let me guide you through my world.

How is this possible?

A little over a year ago, certain medical circles revealed that species transformation had been trialled in mice, turning them into various other creatures, with various success rates from 20 to 80% depending on size and how different the target species was. Now, I'm not for animal testing, but when I heard that human trials were going to open, I kept that pinned to my calendar. And so, after a few months, I was able to finally sign up and have my first interview. Which was… short. Turns out, they had pretty elaborate ways of gatekeeping people who really meant that they wanted it from those that they thought would regret the procedures. They also had a little joke, based on gender HRT, where they would ask if you'd spent years living as your preferred species beforehand. Or at least, I think it was a joke. And then, I was on my way to becoming the bird I love.

How much did it cost?

Well, luckily for me, the NHS provides free healthcare. Then, due to this being a clinical trial, I get paid for being a test subject. Then, due to the effects of the medicine, I receive Disability Benefits. The treatment itself is… a bit of a legal loophole, really. This very article may well be the first you've heard of it.

Is it just a magic pill?

Nope! It's a mix of CRISPR, gene replacement, hormone injections, and surgeries over time. It's a real mishmash, at least in my case. For example, keratinous structures can be grown through selective DNA editing and hormones that stimulate 'hair' growth in specific areas in specific ways. Bone structure can also slowly be altered in some cases through gene replacement, though in some cases, surgery is needed. My back, for example, will soon be undergoing surgery to adjust the way the vertebrae are laid out. Some aspects just are too difficult to be done naturally, and so artificial parts and prosthetics are added. But this complicated procedure has an upside - it means that there is more customisation possible! For example, a Harpy would be a very specific set of applications of Bird HRT that exclude certain aspects such as the face!

Are there downsides?

Definitely. There's the immunosuppression that has to occur to stop new parts from being rejected. There's the high risk of cancers and other diseases to occur as a result of this procedure. There's just the risk that your organs will fail. Most of this is irreversible too.

Why even do it then?

Because, to that small number of people, it's so worth it. This is a new life, an opportunity to discard that uncomfortable human vessel and be yourself at last. For the vast majority of people, being oneself is being human, but that's not the case for everyone.

Is it going to be banned?

Well, that's hard to say. Governments worldwide are, I'm sure, now aware of this phenomenon. And I think it presents a threat to the status quo. This is something new, something scary, something intimidating, that shifts the power balance between subjects and governers. And it's not just because some people have become huge fire-breathing dragons - it's the meaning behind it. They've rejected the very notion of the social contract between humans and crafted a new identity. Do we still count as people? And that's really the question, isn't it. So much of the way government and society works is to split people into groups of those that are 'more' people, and those that are 'lesser' people - and that dictates what societal violences are permissible, for example. This whole new procedure will have to make governments rethink so much, and it can either be a source of worry for us, or a source of hope for everyone. We just have to be loud enough to be heard for who we are.

So what will come next? Well, I'm going to hop on in to my next appointment, and the Earth will keep spinning. My first set of wings has almost reached full-span, and my toe-dexterity is almost at where I was with hands as a human. With my next set of primaries, I may have enough of a wingspan to fly, if I keep my weight low enough. Meanwhile, Parliament will likely have a debate on the issue, as a petition to legalise the procedure has a few thousand signatures on the government's official petition website. I'll be waiting on that result eagerly.

If you have any other questions, I'd be more than willing to answer them!

[physalian]

On self-publishing, and why I did it

Based on the research that I have done, following other indie authors across multiple platforms, I think I've made an approach to this that is a lot less... shall we say, *intense* than people make it out to be? I've seen some YouTube videos acting like picking one route or the other might be the worst mistake of your author career.

I mean, I guess?

Back a few years ago I had a manuscript I was querying around and couldn't find any takers. Couldn't find any publishing houses that were accepting open submissions to pick up my manuscript either. So many of them had clauses in the application verifying that you were submitting to them and only to them and to expect a reply within 8-10 months. Coooool.

I did not have time for that.

—

The manuscript I had was 120k words. Baby’s first novel sitting at 120k words is not attractive to publishing houses. It’s a risk. I was younger and didn’t know much about finding an agent and all that jazz, so I had looked into self-publishing and was staring down an editor bill of about $3k minimum because of my word count. I did not have the money for that.

So that manuscript got shelved, meanwhile I wrote the sequel and got halfway through book 3 before writer’s block took hold.

Enter February 2024. I have an idea for a new book. 31 days later, I have that book’s first draft done—Eternal Night of the Northern Sky, on sale from draft to publication in seven months.

This time, I didn’t consider for one second trying the traditionally published route. ENNS is 111k words, it’s a doorstopper of a book, but the bulk wasn’t the only reason I decided to bootstrap myself to the finish line.

I wanted complete, absolute creative control every step of the way

If I have to market myself anyway, why am I splitting profit with a publishing house?

I *really* don’t have time to wait around hoping the right person sees my manuscript. I have a new job coming that’s going to eat up all my free time and could either delay ENNS a year or more, or get it out while I still had time to do so

I didn’t do this for money

I think that’s what makes so many of those rather intense arguments for one or the other so harrowing—the pressure is a lot higher if you invested all this time, money, and effort expecting returns to break even, if not actually turn a profit. Publishing with a publisher doesn’t guarantee people will buy your book, mind you, but it’s a helping hand nonetheless. If I even want to break even, let's say just on royalties from the ebook, I'd have to sell over a thousand copies.

Breaking down my above points:

I’m a firm believer in “if you want something done right, you do it yourself,” which does bite me in the ass from time to time, this I know. I didn’t want to get caught up in contracts or editors telling me what I could and couldn’t do or what I had to change. If ENNS fails, I will have no one to blame but myself, and I am at peace with this. If ENNS fails, and I’d gone through the trouble of signing my book’s soul away to a publisher, then I’d probably be a little resentful. 100% of ENNS is mine, even the cover. I had an image in my head of what I wanted the cover to look like, and I sat down and I drew it and it matches perfectly. Aside from the feedback implemented from betas and editors, my story is told the way I wanted to tell it. If it fails, I am at peace with this.

On marketing, I am not a person who does well with social media. Maybe it’s autism, idk, but trying to keep up with an Instagram is exhausting. I just don’t get anything from tiny text posts and blurbs and doomscrolling through influencers and advertisements. Social Media is, for me, exhausting. Tumblr is different, because writing is my strong point and this blog exists to share and curate something useful. But either way, I’d have to market this book alone, so why not do so with full creative control? If it fails, I am at peace with this.

I have a new job coming very quickly. My current job allows me about 5 hours of free time during my 8 hour shift on a good day not including the time outside work, and I work from home. ENNS was written in 31 days thanks to this job. The new one? Not so much. Seeing “please allow 8-10 months” and “please ensure this is an exclusive submission” on so many little publishing houses, and I did search far and wide, was incredibly disheartening. For me, personally, it wasn’t worth the gamble of waiting all that time, following the rules, and being told no or just being flat-out ghosted. Nor did I want to sit around querying agents into the void. This time, I didn’t have time to sift through agents. ENNS had to get out on the shelves as quickly as I could get it, and all that time (five goddamn months of editing, 500% of the time it took to write it) was spent perfecting the manuscript that it is, *not* waiting around trying to find an agent. If it fails, I am at peace with this.

And lastly, I don’t care if I make absolutely nothing from this book. I didn’t do it for the money, I did it to say I could. I have a day job, and I’m about to have a much higher paying day job. Maybe I’m lucky enough to have that, but I am under no illusions that putting in the hard work guarantees success. Success as an author is a crapshoot and being an amazing book is not the metric sales are measured in, if no one wants to read it. I’d like to make money, I didn’t do it for charity. It’s going to be priced exactly the same as another fantasy book of its caliber. But if only one person buys it, and finds something good from it, something in it that changes their life, then I will have succeeded, profit be damned. If all else fails, I am at peace with this.

—

This is not a post meant to sway people one way or the other. I know I didn’t do enough research or scour the internet hard enough to find a good agent. All of this is irrelevant when time was the most important factor in my debut novel. I was in a position where I could drop that $3k on an editor, so I did. I’m a capable enough artist to draw my own cover, so I did. I might be abysmal at managing social accounts, but less than a year ago this blog didn’t exist and it has over 5k reblogs and 950 followers and I think that’s pretty swell.

I’m 25 years old. I was not about to let it keep sitting around waiting for the golden opportunity with the perfect publishing house that might not have been coming. I had the means and motive to get it done, and by god, I did it.

If it fails, at least I can say that I failed trying. I am at peace with this.

—

Eternal Night of the Northern Sky is available now on Amazon in ebook and paperback! It is also available through your local bookstore.

Check it out on Goodreads!

[atruththatyoudeny]

Happy 28th! Here are all the lovely fics I read this month:

Temporary Fix | dbeaux | [234k] Whether it’s a company event, a date for the day, a hookup, a vacation companion, or even just someone to spend time with for a few hours, whether it’s formal, extremely casual, or somewhere in between, no matter what the requirements, you provide when and what your needs are and leave the rest to us. - Temporary Fix Harry needs someone to go with him to his parents' yearly event. After months of debating and one drunken night, he wakes up to find he submitted the application. He knows it's unfair to subject someone to his life, but when his eyes land on Louis, he finds himself drawn to him. Is it possible that Louis could be his saving grace? Louis doesn't need anyone. He's better off alone, so why did Zayn send in his application to Temporary Fix? Louis has secrets...lots of them, and he intends to keep them. After all, no one needs to know, but after he meets Harry he finds himself wondering if he can let go and trust again. Can Louis let Harry in? Can Harry accept him once he knows everything?

Behind Smoke Stained Curtains | jaerie | [19k] It was a particularly lonely night when Harry walked through his door with a flurry of snow. He was a little rough around the edges with a trucker hat pushed down over untamed long hair. He looked a little greasy, a shower definitely not in his recent past. His tan Carhartt work coat was smudged with dirt and oil and caked with grime, his hands shoved deep in his pockets. The scent was overwhelming as soon as he walked in, unmasked alpha from days on the road stewing in a cab of his own pheromones. Louis was sure it was so deep into the fabric of his coat that no amount of washing would ever truly remove the stench. The worlds align when Louis meets an alpha from the road with as many secrets as he holds himself.

see-through, need you | HoldingOnToChaos | [50k] Louis has a crush. He’s also a 19 year old virgin. Determined to get some experience before he goes out with his crush he enlists the help of his ex best friend—known in the university to get around, and star football player, Harry. Harry agrees to help Louis practice and learn, and Louis always has been a good student. -- OR the one where himbo Harry helps virgin Louis practice fucking.

Heart Beat | allwaswell16 | [33k] Hideaway Haven is the place that Louis has always called home. It's also the place that Harry had tried to leave behind him. When Harry returns to start a music academy in his hometown, he finds himself face to face with his high school crush—and his charming daughter who wants to learn to play the drums. A 2023 Advent Fic ~ Now complete!

Santa Baby (one little thing I really need) | we_are_the_same | [3k] When Louis himself had first heard those words - all the nurses at the A&E have a secret line to Santa’s sleigh on Christmas Eve-, not nearly long enough ago to be considered a child himself, but long enough that he hadn't really felt like an adult all the time, he’d laughed them off. Thought they were sweet, of course, but just a line, something said to appease the kids who ended up having to stay overnight. Something to explain the presents that parents brought to the hospital on Christmas morning, or that were waiting for them at home, if they were lucky not to have to stay any longer. Something that would allow a little bit of Christmas spirit in the sometimes sterile rooms of the hospital. But that was before he’d met him.

Ride My Sleigh Tonight | kingsofeverything | [9k] In exchange for free food and drinks at Liam’s office holiday party, Harry pretends to be his boyfriend. But this is not that story.

The Busker | Chelsea Frew (chelseafrew) | [7.5k] A snowstorm has trapped artist Louis at home on his birthday--Christmas Eve--and on Christmas. Louis anticipates a lonely holiday. A mysterious stranger appears on Christmas morning, however, and Louis doesn't have to spend the day alone. But where did the man come from? Why does he seem familiar? It's a Christmas mystery.

Sunlight and Shadow | Cryinginacoolway_2931 | [88k] Foster dad Harry isn't lonely. He really isn't. Caring for children in crisis is his calling, and he doesn't need anyone to help him. That is, until he does. Louis, a handyman who craves love and a family more than anything, might just be the missing piece he never knew he needed.

Where All Roads Lead | Rearviewdreamer | [7k] Harry's Christmas takes an unexpected turn when he discovers a misplaced holiday card in his letterbox. He never thought that braving the snow to return the card to its sender would be so worth his while.

Santa, Baby | Throwthemflowers | [16k] Nothing in Harry’s life has gone to plan. From giving up his art dreams in favor of a stable 9-5, to singleness, to a bought with cancer that left him infertile, Harry finds himself wishing for a Christmas miracle. When one seemingly occurs, Harry meets the sperm donor of his dreams and begin to imagine the impossible. But not everything with Louis is as it seems, and soon an elusive art agent is adding to the chaos of Harry’s very unexpected holiday season. Set against the backdrop of New York City, this hallmark-style rom com is filled with a bit of drama, a drop of angst, and a touch of Christmas magic.

[captainsophiestark]

Go Bearcats

Luke Castellan x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Written for my Year of Olympians and part of a bigger challenge being run by @yearofcreation2023​! It features a ton of other awesome creators and runs all year, so go check it out!

Fandom: Percy Jackson

Prompt: Hermes; Travel, boarders, games

Summary: The summer before Percy Jackson came to Camp Half Blood, Luke Castellan's SO convinced him to leave camp with them for a new life.

Word Count: 1,175

Category: Fluff

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

"I cannot believe you did that to me," I said, shaking my head in disgust with my boyfriend, Luke Castellan. He didn't even have the decency to look ashamed.

"I'm sorry. But it was the best way for me to win."

"Cheating isn't winning."

"Technically, choosing an object outside of the car that we left in the dust ten miles ago isn't cheating."

"You sound like Malcom," I huffed, crossing my arms and leaning back in my seat. Luke just chuckled, shooting me a grin from the driver's seat as we cruised along the highway. Luke and I had been in the car for almost three hours now, on the sixth day of our cross-country road trip from camp. For the first time in a very long time, we were leaving the place we'd called home and had never really been allowed to leave.

I'd gotten to Camp Half-Blood the year after Luke, although we were the same age, and with one exception that hadn't gone well, neither of us had left the camp's boarders since. Until now.

This past year, Luke and I had decided it was time for us to leave, to go do something with our lives now that we were both technically adults. Sitting day after day, month after month, within the boarders of Camp Half Blood wasn't sustainable for the rest of our lives, and I'd noticed it having a bad effect on Luke especially. So, we'd spent the last year preparing for and submitting applications to college, and by some miracle we'd both gotten into the same place. Annabeth, although she would only be starting sixth grade in the coming weeks, had helped us a lot, and about six days ago Luke and I had officially left camp with the end goal of Salem, Oregon in mind.

It hadn't been an easy road trip, especially since we couldn't use phones to help with navigation. But we'd managed alright. We were together, after all, and I swear with every mile we put between us and Camp Half-Blood Luke's spirits had lifted. Enough for him to tease me while cheating at I Spy.

"Alright, new game," I declared, sitting forward in my seat and looking at the scenery around us. "How about... twenty questions?"

"Sure," Luke said, still with a little laugh in his voice. As annoying as his cheating was, I couldn't ignore how happy I was to see him smiling so freely again.

"Alright... I've got something, go ahead."

Luke and I passed another hour that way, laughing as we thought up more and more ridiculous things to try to get the other to guess. After four years of knowing each other and dating for a year and a half of that, we knew each other well enough that truly stumping each other was basically impossible. After Luke successfully guessed that I was thinking of a bearcat, our new school's mascot (whatever the hell a bearcat was), he pointed up ahead of us instead of continuing the game.

"Look, we're officially crossing the boarder from Idaho to Oregon. Last one before we get to school."

"Home stretch," I said, smiling and reaching over the console in the middle of the car to take Luke's hand. "I'm glad we decided to do this."

"Me too."

A little glimpse of the storm clouds passed over his face, but unlike at camp, this time they cleared quickly. He shot me another smile as we drove over the state line and into Oregon. With more than two thousand miles in our rearview mirror, only about two hundred were left between us and the newest chapter in our lives.

"I hope Annabeth's going to be alright without us there," Luke said after moment's hesitation. We'd both been hesitant to completely leave her behind, but she'd assured us all summer that she wanted us to go.

"I'm sure she will be," I said. "Besides, we can Iris Message her all the time to keep in touch. It'll be like we never left."

"It's times like this that the no technology thing gets... frustrating."

"What?" I asked, feigning surprise and putting a hand to my heart to really sell the drama. "You're telling me you're not looking forward to taking only paper notes for college, and to figuring out how to turn in assignments without using a computer?"

"Believe it or not, no," said Luke with a little laugh. There was no question that the year ahead of us would be incredibly strange and full of challenges, but I knew we'd figure out a way through them, together. That's what all our training at camp had been for, after all. Although, the problem solving they'd been preparing us for had been a little more combat-based.

"Maybe Annabeth can come visit us for a break or something," I mused, kicking back in my seat and watching the trees fly past us on either side. I'd never been this far West before, and it looked incredibly different than anything I saw back home.

"Do you still want to visit camp over the winter break?" he asked. His voice was casual, but I thought I heard something else underneath his words, something a little more tense and brittle. "Go back for the Winter Solstice on Olympus?"

I paused, thinking my words over carefully and trying to gauge how Luke felt. Finally, tentatively, I responded.

"I don't know... If we're settled in here, and neither of us really wants to fly... I don't know if I'll want to leave our new lives after only four months being here."

Luke nodded, and I thought I saw his shoulders relax, just slightly.

"Yeah. Yeah, I think so too. We can decide later, of course, but... I think I want to stay here too."

I squeezed his hand lightly, and gave him a warm smile when he turned to look at me. He returned with a grin of his own, and after a moment of just enjoying the moment here, together, the two of us against the world, I leaned forward and cranked up the volume on the radio.

A little bit of luck must've followed us so far, because one of my absolute favorite songs was on, and I didn't hesitate to scream-sing the words at the top of my lungs. By the end of the day, Luke and I would be moving into a tiny apartment we'd found just on the edge of campus. In the morning, we'd gather materials and get ready to start our classes, and then the day after our new lives would begin. I had a feeling we probably wouldn't go back to our old lives, ever, even though Luke didn't seem to want to talk about permanently closing that door yet. But I didn't mind. The Olympians were overrated anyway, and I'd be happy to live like a normal college kid with the guy I loved, free from their influence and the problems they brought with them.

****************

Everything Taglist: @rosecentury

Percy Jackson Taglist: @valkyriepirate

[beautifulpersonpeach]

It's hilarious to me BPP that all the people saying HYBE doesn't want Jimin nominated along with Jungkook in Western awards have nothing to say when Billboard reported HYBE submitted all BTS members for consideration and nominations at the Grammys. Thank you very much for this blog. You nice keep going.

***

Oh I find it amusing too. I've been around long enough that it doesn't surprise me the sorts of theories that gain traction with certain types of people. But it's still amusing to watch this happen every couple years, with every new wave of people who join the fandom.

I keep saying, all the theories from solo spaces reflect their insecurities and anxieties rather than anything that's actually happening based on the facts as we have them. Jimin not getting a nomination doesn't mean his work wasn't submitted, but because akgaes live in a miserable, sick terror that everyone is out to get their fave, including his band members and HYBE, they presume Jimin's lack of nominations must be because HYBE intentionally neglected to submit his work to control him, boost their bottom line (literally counterproductive ergo irrational but I digress), or because HYBE hates him. There's no long-dated history or verified pattern of behaviour regarding award submissions to support that theory, but that doesn't stop people already afraid based on scenarios they've relived over and over in their heads, from latching onto it for dear life.

When faced with irrefutable proof that HYBE has submitted Jimin's work for the Grammys, i.e. a confirmed example directly applicable to BTS, and not an extrapolation based on what happened to another artist in another award show years ago as akgaes were asserting for Despacito, it does nothing to dislodge their conspiracy theories. It barely even registers in the web of mismatched accusations, vitriol, and hate they've weaved together in the last 6 months about Jimin, Jungkook, BTS, and HYBE.

Like another Anon said, trying to reason with them is about as effective as trying to talk to a Q-anon believer who thinks there's truth to Pizzagate and it's proof children are being trafficked by the rival political party they hate.

Belief is a very fascinating thing.

People throw around words like "cult" in fandom but the groups of people that consistently show this thinking and behaviours:

a propensity for conspiracy,

doomposting,

strict adhesion to groupthink to the point an akgae can write '"I know all and see all" in a bid to coerce their followers to not frequent my blog since I'm a taekooker who hates Jimin, and their followers will just nod their heads and think that's a very normal thing to say....

caustic hateful language,

people usually located at the fringes of any main fandom space,

....and other sociopathic behaviours, these sorts of people are the least self-aware and yet most eager to throw that word around. Yet another quirk of things you see in fandom that make this space oh so entertaining.

Anyway, good luck to the members. It makes me proud to see them all able to present their art for consideration at the Grammys. All seven members have worked hard and deserve to have their albums given a fair chance, and I hope they all succeed.

[lustfangs]

Time to send another horny, horny anon ask story!

First things first: part 2 of the 'at work' story has already been written and sent in (unless by some awful connectivity issue it didn't make it to your inbox, which would be disheartening at least). In respect of that, this new tale will be a fun look at why sometimes, having a study partner can lead to unexpected places (dear heavens above I hope you get some rest from all that work you're having to do, vamp).

All in this month's smut fiction: It's Not Plagiarism If Your Brain Switches Off Around Me

---

So: another month, another thrice-damned assignment. Something or other about some guy who died 300 years ago and how this affects the modern application of whatever. In other words: potentially interesting in theory, horrendously boring and time-consuming in practice. 12,000 words, to be submitted by the 11th. Wonderful.

Now, this would be fine - easy, even - if not for the fact that the friends you normally do this sort of studying with are all off on a study trip (one they are very eager to share via social media). Huh, wonder who that tall guy in all the photos is? Nevermind.

Anyways. All you need to know is, you don't have a study partner to help you focus, and you're feeling unusually responsible enough to start the damn thing three weeks in advance.

Thank you, adderall.

Ah! But there is one person you could call on! A guy you haven't talked to in a while - you are majoring different things, afterall, but this seems like the sort of stuff he'd know about anyway. A few text messages and an extremely corny joke later, you've arranged to meet up at the library for a couple hours, seeing as he's not up to much anyway and is willing to help.

~

You meet up in the library for the first time in over a year and... boy, he must have been hitting the gym quite a lot since then. That is, if the strangely clinging shirt he's wearing is anything to go by. Sly dog, walking around with a too-small shirt just to show off... mmmm...

Of course, he says it's because he doesn't have any clean shirts right now (ha! as if) and had to pull out an old one from a year ago, but whatever the case you're soon settled down in a secluded corner of the library building, poring over a 100-and-something year old biography of Deadguy Whateverhisnameis, as your old/new/hot friend launches into an explanation of what's up with that dude and why anyone still cares.

It's long and meandering and you're pretty interested, actually, the way he says it - deep voice, slow and steady and yet still enthused enough to keep you awake. Well, it's that or the fact your eyes keep sliding off his face and down to his bulging cock. It's not even hard, and yet you can see the thick bump under his pants, set against his leg. A glance up reveals he's noticed-- and a blush flashes hot across your cheeks, before awkwardly stuttering that he should continue.

With a knowing smile, he obliges, keeping the words as short and interesting as he can, to maintain your attention on what he's saying.

Oh my god he's hard now. It's pulsing, throbbing through his pants. It must be... what? As thick as your wrist? Oh my god...

He says something, and you wrench your eyes up again, hoping ever so hard you're not red as a beet. He just smiles, and asks if you're feeling hot or something. What? Oh, you took off your sweater; just a tank top now, and nothing else. His eyes remain firmly fixed on yours, that so-sweet look on his face as if he can't see your nipples begging to be taken out in the open, stiff points feeling so sensitive against the suddenly-rough cotton.

"Go on, sugar. Take your time."

Oh god. He's just looking at you, and you've gotten so horny you're humping the desk, pussy soaked enough to sound wet even through two layers of clothes, seeping into the chair's pillow. Why are you this bad? Is it because you didn't have any sex lately? Or because you're pretty sure you know why your friends are hanging around that tall guy in their pictures? So many thoughts, so much that's making you so horny, and him all big and aloof and seemingly ignorant of how fucking horny he's making you--

The hand on your neck is almost a relief. Tightening grip, your head starts getting hazy, and your tongue lolls out on its own.

"God, you really are a slut, huh~"

Your eyes slowly drift to his face - or they try to, at least, before you're pulled from your chair and half carried, half dragged, by the neck, to a dark little room in the corner, just behind the bookshelves. A light click announces the lock, but all you can focus on is getting your breath back.

Not like it matters, since the moment you finally take a good gasp of air again, he's there to stuff something in your gaping maw. The taste jolts you awake, and you try to get away - say something, scream, just make sure you can escape- but you can't. You're mouth's full, and he's bucking his hips, fucking into your sloppy mouth.

Wait a second.

He's not moving his hips anymore.

Why are you still gagging on his cock? You can get away - you could run, push past him and-- And what? He's locked the door. Maybe you could pretend to run instead, then present your pussy and... the thought's made you so horny, so sopping wet, that the moment you feel hot cum shoot against the roof of your mouth, you just start swallowing.

Tongue working round and around, you clean off his fat meat, and give it a kiss as he slowly pulls out. You... can't believe you just did that.

A sudden rush, and you're against the door, desperately scrabbling for a way out. It's locked. You knew that already.

Your jeans hit the floor with a thump, and you bend over further to look at the lock, hoping it's just a latch or something easy... like you.

His tip punches your womb. Your eyes widen. Everything slows down, as the pleasure... and the beautiful pain hit your brain at once. Ragged gasps. Why does everything feel so sensitive?

What's that inside you? Oh! It's deeper! That slapping noi-- He's gripping your throat again, firm hands clenching around your windpipe, as he pummels your weeping pussy, stretching you out so much you're crying. Blubbering, sobbing, you taste his seed on your tongue, and feel him so deep, inside. You're his toy now, his to ruin and fuck into total submission.

Your knees knock together, dropping you a little further down onto his huge shaft with a gasp - and the hot spurt of virile, ruinous cum, right up into your begging womb, breaks something inside you.

-

You're still on the floor, in that dark little room. He's cum in you so many times you've lost count. He's started talking about that assignment you've got again.

Why?

"So every time you think of studying, you'll call me over to help."

Then he fucks you so hard you scream, and pass out.

-

He comes to your place the next day, stack of books in hand.

You get about two sentences done before he's dragged you, begging and weeping, into the bathroom, so he can fuck you loud enough for all the neighbours to hear. You don't care what they can hear. You just worship and fall apart as he uses your body, again and again.

He leads you out of the bathroom, coated in cum, and sits you down to study again.

You're sucking his cock again before you know it, hot tears welling up as you realise what's happening

-

By the next week, all he has to do is come by your house, and you're stripped naked for him, fingerfucking yourself on the kitchen counter so he can watch you mewl his name as you cum.

He's brought some friends over, is that okay? They're here to make sure you're studying just right as well. You don't even make it up the stairs before they start breaking you in. The house reeks of sex, and you've fallen in love with him.

-

You finish the assignment on time, and rush to him to show off, like a good little pet. He gives you a present - a camera.

He sends a video of what you do for him, to your friends.

You get a video just like it back, from that tall handsome guy you saw before.

When your friends get back, you introduce them to your new boyfriend. You wake up on your cum-soaked bed, and share a sloppy kiss with your boyfriend's dick, then another with all your other broken-bitch friends.

Suffice it to say, you suddenly just love studying.

xxxxxxx

Heyyy vamp! Hope you like this new installment of "slutty shit I send you because I feel like writing a story we'll both cum to"

Well do I know the drudgery of academic endeavours, so I wish you every amount of rest you can manage to get in the coming months. Also, if you'd be interested, I could write you a significantly longer piece (for a small fee)

-𝄞

Haven’t logged on here in nearly a month because my finals are right around the corner and when I tell you this made my eyes roll back with how good it was …. Definitely one of my favorites you’ve written so far anon

[zwy01]

Noble OCs - Titus’ Bodyguards

Paradiso nobles can’t fight at all. Their clan is the only non-combat clan in Lukedonia. For this reason, Clan Leaders and heirs are protected by bodyguards at all times.

This time I’ll introduce five bodyguards from Titus Paradiso’s team of more than twenty.

For complete info please check out the link below:

One of Raskreia’s ancestors decreed that Paradiso Clan Leaders and their heirs must each be assigned a team of elite bodyguards made up of powerful nobles. Usually, the bodyguard teams consist of members from different clans, and each team has around twenty members. Their job is to protect Paradiso Clan Leaders and heirs from threats. The bodyguards keep an eye on the surrounding, put anyone in proximity under surveillance, help whom they serve evacuate to safety in an emergency, and fight on their behalf in life-threatening situations, even if it means sacrificing themselves in the process. These bodyguards are ready to give up their lives at any moment for the Paradiso. All of them are volunteers, and while they may have different reasons for becoming a bodyguard, they are completely devoted to their job.

All bodyguards are purebloods. In my headcanons, “pureblood” is roughly the equivalent of “strong enough and qualified to inherit the clan’s soul weapon and become Clan Leader”. If an heirless Clan Leader dies, the clan’s soul weapon and title of Clan Leader would go to the next most qualified pureblood. That’s how strong they are. By volunteering to join a Paradiso’s bodyguard team, they are forfeiting their rights to succeed their clan.

All purebloods are welcome to apply. There are two steps in the selection progress. Volunteers submit an application form to the Lord and the Lord picks the first round of candidates. Then the Lord makes a list and sends it to the Paradiso Clan Leader and their heirs, who get the final say in which candidates makes it to their teams.

The Paradiso bodyguards only have to answer to the one they serve. This implies that they can directly ignore even the Lord’s orders without any consequences. This is interesting because in a way, while the bodyguards offer protection as part of their job, they’re also under protection by gaining immunity from the Lord’s prosecution.

I do want to get to all of them but there are more than sixty of them and that’s way too many so I’m cutting it down to fifteen total for now. Five for Titus, and five for each of his twins.

The characters!

Primavera Ceresthalassa: Captain. Belongs to Gejutel’s generation.

Primavera may seem a bit overbearing and anxious, but she’s just doing her job as the captain. Regular evacuation drills are never fun for anyone but they’re essential for building muscle memory. Trying to navigate your way out during a real emergency will be hell. That’s what Primavera keeps saying over and over again, and she’s probably right. Titus complains about the drills whenever it’s time for practice because he can’t run fast and his old bones are going to “fall apart”. Primavera tries to convince Titus to exercise more to no avail. He just keeps sitting on his bum all day reading books and he only stands up when he’s teaching. He claims that his “zoomies” count as exercise. Primavera just sighs. She ultimately gives up because Titus keeps tripping during the drills and that’s never a good thing in case he really needs to run for his life, so at some point she orders her team to just “pick him up and run”. Titus is smiling because he gets to chill during drills now and all he has to do is look cool while they carry him around like a sack of potatoes. He even waves and blows kisses at the other bodyguards while one of them is piggybacking him. Primavera is always frowning and begging Titus to please be serious because being in a life-threatening situation isn’t funny at all. Titus just chuckles that having a sense humor is one way to face impeding doom, and hey, if he gotta go, he’s gonna immortalize his charm. Primavera is speechless and informs her vice-captain Harald that if she unexpectedly dies from a “brain hemorrhage” one day, he’ll have to take over because Titus is driving her crazy. If she dies, she hopes she’ll die protecting Titus from harm but maybe that won’t happen because his weirdness will be the cause of her entering eternal sleep before an enemy even shows up. Everyone knows Primavera’s just saying things, because she will never actually quit. They all understand how committed she is to protecting the eccentric pink-haired man.

All of Titus’ bodyguards are ready to sacrifice themselves for him at any moment. Primavera takes it to another level. Her subordinates have never seen her take a break. She’s either on the lookout for Titus or she’s training herself. She’s always ready to respond to her team, but she never brings up anything about herself. She doesn’t talk about her family, hobbies, lovers, why she volunteered as a bodyguard in the first place… no one really knows who their respected captain is. When they ask, Primavera would reply that she is no one, and her sole identity and purpose is being Titus’ bodyguard. They want to chat with her, but there is nothing to talk about. Primavera isn’t trying to be distant on purpose, she’s just completely dedicated to her job and that’s all she sees.

Primavera’s weapon of choice is a trident.

Harald Siriana: Vice-captain. Belongs to Gejutel’s generation.

Harald is a much more relaxed person when compared to Primavera. He agrees with his captain and thinks that everyone should train rigorously as well, just that he doesn’t voice it because he trusts that his subordinates understand their mission at heart and don’t need to have him repeat it to their faces all day long. For this reason, the team tends to approach Harald more because he’s less scary even when they really should be going to Captain Primavera instead. Harald is okay with it. Primavera is too busy nagging Titus to notice anyway.

Harald is a gentle person. He praises his subordinates when they’re doing a good job, especially when they show improvement in their skills. Primavera often tells Harald that he should stop with the praise because they’re just doing what they’re supposed to do, and he’s spoiling them by being too nice when he really should be disciplining them instead. She reminds him that they’re not his friends; they’re his subordinates. Harald just smiles and says “Yes Captain” and bows. To this day, Primavera still has a hard time believing that her esteemed vice-captain is such a big softy, but she has to give him credit because he does an excellent job of managing their team. Perhaps thats why he’s vice-captain. Despite their differences, Primavera and Harald do get along very well and never argue with each other. Titus comments on how they’re “carrot and stick”. Harald’s the carrot, and Primavera’s the stick.

Harald gives Titus personal space while Primavera gives him none. He’s just as alert as his captain, but he doesn’t overwhelm Titus with his presence. There’s no need to. In a way, Harald is Titus’ shadow. Always there, but very subtle. He even suppresses his own aura because he thinks Titus will be more comfortable that way.

Due to Harald’s pleasant nature, Titus is able to relax a bit more. Titus adores his loyal “shadow”, and Harald is fond of his “Professor”. At some point, the two of them fall in love with each other and they share their first kiss under a cherry blossom tree. Perhaps a spark developed into passion. They already see each other everyday since Harald is a bodyguard after all. Sometime later, Harald offers his soul fragment to Titus and their twins Anastasia and Anabella are born. The twins adore their “Daddy Harald” just as much as he adores them, though Harald sees himself more as their subordinate than their father. He bows to his children when greeting them because they’re higher in rank than him. He insists on being formal with them even when Titus tells him not to. The twins would giggle and Titus would gently shove his beloved in their direction so he can finally “go over there and just give them a big ol’ hug”. Curiously, Primavera is quite positive about Harald and Titus’ relationship. She probably thinks it’s a good thing that they’re lovers because that means Harald gets to watch Titus even more closely. Typical captain logic. Harald just replies “Yes Captain” to whatever Primavera says.

Harald’s weapon of choice is a nunchaku.

Sonata Loyard: Member. Belongs to the Previous Lord’s generation.

Sonata doesn’t talk much but she’s always staring at something. Most of the time she’s watching her captain and vice-captain while she anticipates an order from one of them. Or, she’s looking at Titus. Sonata has a very fast reaction time and she’s a good reader of subtle body language cues, especially when it comes to Titus. She can tell when Titus is tired of Primavera’s nagging and when she concludes that he wants to leave, she whispers into his ear and asks if he wants her to tell her captain and vice-captain that she’ll take over for now. Titus is more than happy to have Sonata rescue him from Primavera’s nonstop lecturing.

Sonata is one of the nobles who applied as a Paradiso bodyguard without actually wanting to be one, at least in the very beginning. She just didn’t like how the Lord gets to decide things for everyone, and wanted to free herself from the Lord’s control. The Lord wasn’t a bad person at all, but Sonata wanted to take precautions nonetheless. Well, she had her reasons. Sonata was neutral when Titus approved of her and gave her a spot in his team. This was a job to her, nothing more. She’s only here because she can benefit from having immunity from the Lord, or so she thought. Sonata was certain that she wouldn’t get too involved. Turns out she was wrong. Even she eventually warms up to the goofy grandpa, and now her loyalty to him is genuine. Sonata would die for him just like any of her colleagues. Titus has been aware of the early Sonata’s true intentions all along and he sometimes teases her about it. She’d blush hard and stutter while reassuring him that she’s truly willing to serve him now and he doesn’t have to suspect her anymore, well, the immunity is undeniably nice too. Silly girl, Titus never suspected you in the first place. He picked up on it before he even let her in on his team, and he probably admitted her because he had his own curiosities to fulfill. Grandpa knew. That’d just embarrass Sonata even more when Titus brings it up.

Sonata’s weapon of choice is a series of short daggers strapped all over her body.

Echidna Kravei: Member. Belongs to the Previous Lord’s generation.

Echidna is quite chatty. You’d think she’s here for Titus’ as a professional entertainer, but no, she is in fact one of his bodyguards. Her rather cheerful nature often ends up disguising her cold and ruthless side, which comes out when she’s around unfamiliar people. Echidna thinks everyone who isn’t one of Titus’ bodyguards is a threat to him and often wonders if she should get rid of the suspicious looking people on the spot. Titus has to remind her that it’s okay, she doesn’t have to go on a killing spree, he won’t die that easily.

Echidna volunteered as a Paradiso bodyguard because she is a huge fan of Titus. As a child, she was one of Minerva’s regulars and admired the intelligent and charming Titus Paradiso, whom she called “Professor Teddy Bear”. He does kind of look like one though. Back then Echidna also saw Titus’ then-bodyguards on a regular basis and thought it would be so cool if she could be one of them when she’s older. Echidna trained day and night for centuries and eventually gets her dream come true. Titus hired her when one of his older guards retired. To Echidna’s surprise, Titus actually remembered her as the enthusiastic child who always asked questions and stayed after lectures to learn more. Echidna was overjoyed and bawled on the spot, to Captain Primavera’s horror because no way Titus recruited a “mentally unstable crybaby” as one of their members. A weird first impression for sure, but soon Echidna manages to prove to her captains that she is competent and suited for the job.

Echidna has memorized a map of all of Titus’ favorite places to get human food. She’s the one who goes and buys his donuts and milkshakes when he has cravings. Well, they can’t send anyone else because they’re too dumb to understand human money. Echidna loves her team and always gets extras for all the bodyguards, and she knows that Primavera is interested in having a bite as well even if she tries not to show it. Echidna was able to win over Primavera with a well-timed chocolate marshmallow donut.

Echidna’s weapon of choice is a barbed whip.

Igor (Gradeus’ clan): Member. Belongs to the Previous Lord’s generation.

People respect Igor as one of the elite Paradiso bodyguards, but they’ll never believe how he actually ended up as one. It wasn’t even Igor who submitted the application form. He never volunteered. Back then, his friends thought it would be funny to submit an application for him as a prank, because he is rather lazy and does nothing all day. He’ll never get chosen anyway, they thought. It all became clear when a very confused Igor received a notice telling him that Titus Paradiso has summoned him for final selection.

Congratulations? Summon?? Paradiso who???What bodyguard???? While Igor was furious with his friends’ prank, he had no choice but to show up. Igor appeared before Titus and the latter took a liking to the young man and he was hired immediately. Well, thanks guys, now I’m stuck here and can’t spend my days in leisure anymore. Then Igor remembered that he could just treat this as a game. Yes, yes, a game. When he’s bored, he’ll just tell Titus that his application was a mistake and resign immediately and go back to lazing around. Wonderful. Except years have passed and Igor never once voiced the truth. He actually kind of enjoys this new lifestyle. It’s like he has found his purpose. His friends wanted to prank him, and while he has every reason to be mad at them, they indirectly gave him the opportunity to find something to be passionate about. Igor was a bit surprised when Titus once casually remarked “Hehe, seems like you haven’t decided to quit yet.” That old man is quite perceptive. He knew.

Perhaps Igor didn’t quit because his team almost feels like family to him. His parents weren’t exactly nice to him and he had a rather shitty childhood. He navigated through life alone and barely made it. Igor had been a lazy bum up until he joined the Paradiso bodyguards. In a way, he sees Titus as his grandfather. Igor is one of the members responsible for carrying Titus during drills, and he’s very happy to do so.

Igor’s weapon of choice is an axe.

Thank you for reading and stay tuned for future posts!

[zer0-sug4r]

imgonnagetyouback

I was listening to “imgonnagetyouback” by Taylor Swift and got an idea for a changjin fic.

It’s by no means complete, this is just a very short draft of a possible first chapter.

Let me know if you like it, or if you don’t! Any constructive criticism is welcome :).

Let me know if you’d like to read more!

Disclaimer: English is not my first language, so I apologize for any mistakes

Comments are more than welcome!!!

There’s just no way people actually enjoy sipping on a Negroni.

It tastes so bitter one could feel their own papillae’s repulsion towards the glowing red cocktail even before it found its way to their tongue. The smell is just as atrocious. If you really want to put yourself through the torture that is downing a full glass of it, you better not be doing so on an empty stomach.

And you must keep in mind that one glass is plenty. With an average of 24% alcohol by volume, there’s no reason to order a second or a third one. Don’t be fooled by your mouth getting used to its pungent taste. It doesn’t get any weaker.

Hyunjin knows that. He’s taken part in a fair share of parties. He’s gone to clubs almost every single weekend of the years he spent abroad. He also prefers sweeter tasting cocktails to liven up his friday nights, that manage to get him to the perfect level of tipsiness without overly clouding his judgment.

Tonight is different though.

A little over two years ago he submitted an application for a very competitive one year study abroad program at the Juilliard School of Dance. He only applied because his friends told him he had to give it a shot.

“Not applying is the biggest regret of my life” Minho had told him.

So he did, and against all his expectations he was selected.

It’s a bittersweet memory. More bitter than sweet if he’s being honest. Like the Negroni sitting in front of him.

He can never forget the moment he got the email that informed him that he’d been accepted.

He didn’t think it’d be possible to go from feeling ecstatic, like you’re about to conquer your biggest dream and, therefore, the world, to feeling like your entire world is coming undone and crumbling down. All in the span of five minutes.

He scoffs at the memory of that afternoon, reluctantly reaching for the glass and bringing it up to his lips.

He had Changbin, his boyf- his ex-boyfriend, to thank for proving him wrong.

He takes a sip of the terrible drink he ordered and as soon as the unfamiliar flavor meets his tongue his beautiful features contort in a grimace. Still, he forces himself to swallow it, the burn on the back of his throat feeling like the cherry on top of the awful experience.

He was barely two sips in when he caught himself wishing he had ordered his usual Cosmopolitan instead.

Unfortunately though, his preferred cocktail was not an option tonight. Not when he was bound to see him again. He needed something to loosen him up enough to not cause a scene the moment their eyes met again for the first time in two whole years, something that would help him mask the fact that he still wasn’t over their breakup. And his little pink drink wasn’t gonna cut it.

When he first moved to the States he quickly realized just how much work he needed to put in not only to improve his dancing, which was why he was there in the first place, but also his English skills.

He ended up binge-watching all 9 seasons of “How I Met Your Mother” in less than 4 months. It kept his mind busy enough so it wouldn’t slip back to that tiny dorm room he had left his heart in, shattered all over the floor.

In one of the episodes they talk about how there’s always someone who “wins the breakup” and someone who loses. He knows Changbin’s probably thriving, which makes him seethe with anger, but so what?

Tonight Hyunjin’s not only gonna show him what he lost, but also that he’s lost it forever. And whether that’s the truth or not, no one needs to know.

He’s always hated losing, and this is no different. He is going to win this breakup.

A voice in the back of his mind tells him that the fact that he still cares so much and is still so bothered by what went down is a clear indicator that he lost big time, but he decides to ignore it and push it away for now.

He gently taps his phone’s screen so that it would light up and reveal the time.

9:1 0 PM.

He’s supposed to meet the rest of the group at 9:30.

Thinking of them as a friend group feels a little weird now. It was obvious whose side each of them had taken after the breakup, even if they hadn’t stated it outright.

The only people he consistently kept in touch with after leaving were Felix and Minho. He did hear from Jeongin and Seungmin too, but it wasn’t as frequent.

Changbin he cut out of his life for obvious reasons, and since Jisung is so far up his ass it goes without saying that he met the same fate. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t sad to have to reserve Chan the same treatment, but it needed to be done. The three of them came as a unit.

He taps his phone’s screen one more time.

9:14 PM.

He can feel the anxiety speeding up his heart rate the tiniest bit, a clear indicator that he needs another sip of that disgusting Negroni, and a big one at that.

He’s never been the type to show up first. On the contrary, he used to always be “fashionably late”.

That’s one habit he lost while being away. He wonders how much and in what ways the people he once considered his closest friends changed while he wasn’t there.

He was away for two whole years, holidays included. This was his first time seeing them again in such a long time, can you blame him for all this overthinking?

He doesn’t need to tap the screen of his phone for it to light up this time.

Felix just texted him: “Channie and I are almost there🩵”

As if Minho dating the enemy wasn’t enough, Felix was in on it too now.

“Okay.” he replied.

He was happy for his friends, truly.

He’s just as happy as he is jealous. This could’ve been a triple date with Jeonging and Seungmin third wheeling if only…

He looked down at his glass, realizing it wasn’t even half empty and deciding that something needed to be done about it.

After taking a deep breath he mustered the courage to down half of it in one big gulp.

He is definitely going to need a second glass.

[darthvashtique93]

Aftermath

After the Chaos Lords' attack, cleanup became a monumental chore. While alien lizards had wreaked havoc in Gotham, other monsters spewing green vomit terrorized California. Dragons manifested in space, and other creatures—snakes, demons, possessed unicorns, murderous water beings, and etc.—popped out of portals across the globe. Heroes and villains alike fought side by side, but once the chaos subsided, the villains left the cleanup to the heroes, slipping back into their villainous routines.

Midway through the cleanup, Superman and other heroes finally returned from space, providing much-needed help that greatly sped up the process. Heroes with powers to swiftly repair buildings and bridges were dispatched, working round the clock. It took a little less than two weeks to restore order worldwide. Fortunately, the Chaos Lords had only visited Earth and no other nearby worlds.

Things had returned to a semblance of normalcy. Garfield had somehow received personal phone number of the Princess of Vlatava, who was a devoted fan of Tork and a powerful advocate for meta-humans. It definitely didn't hurt that, at one point, Garfield had leaped in front of her to block a blow that never came. Bart joked the princess would soon get over her infatuation with him as soon as her head trauma healed. Raven wasn't so sure. Garfield had eagerly showed her his texts with the queen-to-be. It seemed serious. At t the end of the day, Raven felt relieved that he was slowly moving on from his crush on her.

Presently… Raven drummed her fingers on the table in the school library. In their last therapy session, Dinah had alluded to college—a topic they had breached months earlier. She had, without Dinah's knowledge, submitted applications to Ivy League schools: Metropolis University, Ivy Town University, Empire State University, and Harvard. Sure, her grades were decent, but they weren't Ivy League material.

So why am I looking at a late acceptance email from Hudson University? My grades aren't that good, and Constantine wrote my letter of recommendation. What on Earth could he have written?

After school, Raven instantly teleported into Constantine's mansion. "Raven," Black Orchid greeted her.

"Hello," Raven replied, scanning the room. "Is Constantine here?"

"I believe Ms. Zatanna Zatara has recruited him to help with her magic school. May I be of assistance?"

Raven hesitated. "Well… six months ago, I asked Constantine to write a letter of recommendation for my college applications. I hoped he would screw it up. But I just received a late acceptance email from Hudson University. My grades couldn't have gotten me into any Ivy League college, so I want to see the letter he wrote—see if he added anything magical to it."

"Ah," Black Orchid said, a knowing look crossing her face. "I remember this day well. He had just exorcised a level 5 demon from a little girl, reminding him of one he couldn't save. He wrote it while he was deep in his whiskey. Allow me to locate it." The house shuddered, and a laptop appeared above Orchid's hand. "Allow me," she said, placing her hand on the closed PC. Seconds later, the laptop vanished, replaced by a piece of white paper in her hand. "Here," Black Orchid said, handing the letter to Raven. "Techno-magic," she added.

"Thank you," Raven said, taking the document.

"I watched as Constantine typed in his alcohol-induced state," Orchid continued. "He drunkenly telephoned someone named Tim Drake using techno-magic."

"What?!" Raven exclaimed, her surprise evident.

"Yes, it's a magic that allows technology—"

"I know what techno-magic is," Raven interrupted, staring at the essay in her hand. "I mean—he called Tim?" She read a few sentences, her disbelief deepening. No way he wrote this himself. "Trigondammit," she swore in her native tongue. "Why—I—thank you, Black Orchid," she said gratefully. "I have to go."

"I sense anger and embarrassment. Are you going to kill Constantine?"

"I may have to."

Raven had teleported to the mountain in a huff. She had set her things on her bed and prepared to teleport to Tim's apartment when a sensation hit her. She knew, she just knew, he was in the mountain—specifically, in their gym. So, not in complete control of her emotion, Raven marched through the surprisingly empty mountain. Sensing he was alone in the weight-room, she paused in front of the door and centered herself.

Once she felt her emotions settle, she entered the gym. Honestly, I should have known better, Raven thought in annoyance. She wasn't annoyed that Tim was hanging from a pull-up bar doing inverted sit-ups while holding a crossword puzzle in front of his face. It wasn't even the fact that he was shirtless. No, what annoyed her was that she should have known he was shirtless and mentally prepared herself accordingly. "Trigondamn," she muttered.

"Hey, Raven," Tim greeted without looking at her and without pause. "Our bond must still be in place because I felt you walking down the hall. I can also feel your displeasure at something." He paused and lowered, or lifted, his crossword book from his face. Raven looked away with a flush when he stared at her with his electric blue eyes. Honestly, was it a rule that you had to be considered good-looking for Bruce Wayne to adopt you? The Richard in this universe was still young, but Raven knew what he would look like when he turned 18. Even Jason Todd was shockingly gorgeous, if not obnoxious with an anger problem. Anyway, Raven returned to the present and said, "I received an acceptance email from Hudson University."

"That's amazing," Tim said, still hanging upside down…shirtless…glistening with sweat.

A small part of her wanted to purr at the sight. She swallowed thickly instead. "No," Raven shifted on her feet, "it's not." Tim gave her a curious look. "My grades aren't good enough for an Ivy League university. So, I figured Constantine—who wrote my acceptance letter—must have cast a spell or something." Raven watched as Tim's eyes widened with understanding. "Turns out, you wrote most of it."

"Yeah, he called me," Tim replied. "I don't know how he got my personal number."

"Techno-magic," Raven said.

Tim gave her another questioning look. "Techno-magic? The ability to talk to technology?"

"Something like that," Raven said. That was the one genre of magic she was unsure of.

"That's too simple. Is it technology that runs on magic?"

"Yeah…I guess."

"That is extraordinary. So, Constantine has—"

"No," Raven interrupted him, holding up a finger. "No, you will not go on a tangent or rant until after we have this conversation."

"I'm sorry," Tim apologized, blushing. "Yes, to answer your question. Constantine called me and asked to write your letter of recommendation, but I doubt that's why you got accepted."

"Well, it wasn't my grades."

"I think it was the other letter of recommendation I wrote and handed to the dean at a charity event," Tim admitted nonchalantly, resuming his sit-ups.

Raven's whole body shook with multiple emotions. "Why would you do that?" she asked through clenched teeth.

"Why would you apply to multiple Ivy Leagues and then ask Constantine to write you a letter of recommendation knowing there's an 18.7% chance he'd be blackout drunk while doing so?" Tim paused midway, turned his torso, and looked Raven directly in the eye with a smirk. "It's almost like you were purposefully trying to sabotage your chances of getting into college." Raven opened her mouth to respond to the accusation, but no words came out. "That's what I thought," Tim said, resuming his sit-up.

"Why does it matter to you?" Raven asked. "And can we please talk face-to-face, right side up?" Raven was having a hard time concentrating on their conversation.

"You don't enjoy watching me move?" Tim asked in a manner that could only be described as flirtatious. Raven gave him her best blank stare. "Give me a second," he smiled. Lifting his torso, he held onto the pull-up bar with one hand and undid the straps on his ankles with the other.

Placing his bare feet on the mat, he grabbed his water bottle that was nearby, and Raven looked away as he gulped down mouthfuls of water. "So…why are you upset with me he asked when he was finished drinking.

"I'm not upset with you," Raven turned to him. Now, he was standing in front of her, sweaty, blue eyes looking at her through damp bangs. This is way worse, Raven thought as she struggled to keep her eyes on his. I should have waited until he was done working out to have this conversation. "I'm not upset with you," Raven repeated. "I'm just wondering why?"

"Why were you trying to sabotage your chance at receiving a higher education?"

"Tim," Raven gasped as he took a step closer to her. Suddenly, she didn't know what to do with her hands. She couldn't pull her hood over her head, she was still wearing her school uniform. "I'm interrupting your workout," she muttered. Is my voice shaking? "I-I-I should go," Raven said, taking a small step back.

"Raven," Tim caught her soft hand in his rough one. Raven looked at their joined hands. "You're shaking," Tim said, caressing the back of her hand with his thumb.

Raven's breath caught in her throat as her heart raced and heat coiled low in her belly. She was weakening under the intensity of his gaze, and her mouth was suddenly dry. "Yeah…it's cold in here," she said, suddenly dizzy. "I should go get a sweatshirt."

"I don't think so," Tim said breathlessly, before pulling her into his body. His free hand went to the back of her neck as he pulled her into a kiss. Instead of freezing like she had the first time, Raven responded instantly. Tim's mouth was hot and insistent against hers, though his lips remained soft. The world around her dissolved as she opened herself up to him. The warmth in her stomach exploded and Raven became hot all over when he yanked the ponytail holder from her hair, tossing it somewhere. T

he kiss deepened, growing more fervent as Tim tilted his head, tangling his tongue with hers. Raven wasn't sure which one of them moaned, but the vibration against her mouth sent shivers down her spine. Tim released her hand and wrapped his arm around her waist, crushing her to him, and Raven could feel his heart racing in his chest. His hand then inched up her spine, sending jolts of electricity through her body. Raven wanted to get even closer to him as this unfamiliar need arose in her. Sucking on his lower lip, Raven could taste the salt of his sweat.

Barely pulling away, Tim, their lips still tenderly brushing each other, Tim maneuvered them over to one bench in the gymnasium. Sitting down, Tim tenderly pulled Raven onto his lap so she was straddling him. Settling onto his lap, Raven gasped, and before she could register what she was feeling, Tim pulled her into a deeper kiss. While his fingers carded through her hair, his other hand worked its way beneath her sweater, still on her shirt. Raven could sense his desire to go further, as well as his hesitation to go too far. He was so sweet, but even half-demons like her needed air. Raven eased the intensity of her kisses, and Tim followed her lead. Eventually, they were both resting their foreheads against each other, panting. What did I just do? Raven pulled away to look into his eyes, but something happened. She was no longer looking into intense blue eyes; she was staring into angry green ones. "How could you do that to me? I trusted you!" Wally screamed.

"Wally," Richard said warningly, placing himself protectively in front of Raven. "Wally, let her explain."

"Was any of it real?" Wally cried, ignoring his best friend. "Any of it?" Raven sucked in a breath as her tears continued to fall. She wrapped her arms around herself. "Do you even love me?"

"Yes," Raven looked at him desperately, "I do. That's why I told you the truth."

"And how am I supposed to trust anything you say?"

"I'm sorry," Raven apologized. "I was desperate. The Justice League had just sent me away. I didn't know anyone else. I knew I wouldn't be able to get to Richard."

"So, you manipulated my emotions?"

"I was afraid you'd turn me away, too."

"I wouldn't have."

"Really? Can you honestly say if I came begging for help–if I came to you saying an interdimensional demon war lord was on his way here, and I was his daughter–you would have dropped everything and helped me?"

"Well, I guess we'll never know. You took away any choice I had in the matter."

"Raven?"

Raven blinked once.

"I think…you're not used to having full control of your emotions," Nightwing said to her. "I think you've been manipulating mine." Raven stiffened. "Not on purpose," Nightwing quickly added. "Not on purpose, but I think the feelings you're feeling…the feelings I'm feeling…are somehow coming from you. Think about it."

Raven frowned and thought. Is this what Kori was trying to tell her? Nightwing was right. Was that all this was? An overzealous crush holding so much emotion it spilled over and was affecting Nightwing negatively? Her frown deepened the longer she thought about it. It did and didn't make sense to her. Turning to Nightwing, she prepared a question but paused. She was 21, but likely had the emotional maturity of a 4-year-old being that a couple of months ago she wasn't able to fully embrace emotion without Trigon taking over. And…what she did to Wally years before was always present in her mind. Biting her lip, she realized Nightwing was right. It was just a crush with overflowing emotion affecting those around him. And it was only affecting Nightwing because they'd been hanging out nearly every day. He was right. This isn't love.

Raven blinked again. "Raven?" Tim called her name, this time placing a hand on her face. "I'm right here, Raven." Raven blinked, her body and mind returning to the present. She was staring at a very confused Tim…sitting on his lap. Oh my gosh, I'm on his lap, her body tensed as she began to panic.

"Raven?" he said her name again. Raven blinked as her body and mind fully returned to the present. "Are you okay?" he asked, genuine worry on his face.

"Omigosh," she gasped before quickly scrambling off his lap. "It's happening again."

"What's happening again?" Tim asked, remaining seated.

"I think I may be influencing you by accident."

Tim furrowed his brow as he stared at her inquisitively. "What do you mean?"

"I think…I wanted you to kiss me so bad that…I accidentally affected your emotions."

"Excuse me?" he asked with a cocked brow.

"I may have accidentally manipulated you into kissing me."

"Wait," Tim's face remained serious, but Raven could sense the amusement radiating from him, "you're saying I wanted to kiss you because you wanted me to kiss you? That you accidentally forced me to kiss you?"

"Yes," Raven sighed.

"You're serious?"

Raven nodded. She then watched as Tim tried and failed to hold back a laugh. Now I'm confused. Tim laughed like Raven had just cracked a joke. And the sound did something to Raven's stomach. I love his laugh. Crap. Raven blinked and frowned at Tim. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry," Tim gasped between laughs. "I'm not laughing at you. I'm laughing at…Raven, no one forced me to kiss you. I kissed you because I wanted to."

"Tim…"

"No," he smiled as he stood to his feet, "I know my mind. Trust me, I know what it feels like to be manipulated. You did not manipulate me."

"But you kissed me," Raven stressed.

"Yeah," Tim said, humor dancing in his eyes. "Because I wanted to." He held her gaze, watching as confusion crossed her face and she took a small step back. It was almost like—his eyes widened. "Raven…did something or someone…?" Tim paused. He didn't know how to word the question. "Raven," he said, reaching for her hands, linking their fingers. "I like you. And it's not because of your powers." He saw disbelief and confusion cross her face. "I've felt your touch in my head," he continued softly, "I'd recognize if you were doing something in there. Raven…?" Tim was trying to make sense of what Raven just said. "Did something like that happen to you?" Tim knew he hit the nail on the head when Raven's face tightened. She looked down and away, and her arms wrapped around her torso in a show of vulnerability. His heart cracked. "Raven, is it so hard—what happened?"

"Nothing," Raven closed her eyes, shaking her head. "Nothing. It was a mistake…I was mistaken. I'm sorry," Raven tried to brush past him, but Tim's hand shot out. He wrapped his hand around her wrist. "Wait," he said softly. "Raven, is it so hard to believe that someone may like you…for you?"

Raven gradually turned her head to look at him. Her heart raced in her chest as she stood captivated by Tim's beautiful eyes. "Raven," Tim closed the distance between them. He cupped her face in his hands and stared deep into her eyes and asked her pointblank. "Raven, are you using your powers to manipulate me in any way, shape, or form?"

Tim's face became blurry as tears formed in Raven's eyes. Tears trickled down her cheeks. Why am I crying? She felt Tim's thumbs move as he wiped the tears away. "I…" Raven began in a broken voice. Her shoulders slumped. Admitting this would only bring back painful memories. But, she could sense Tim's emotions—his sincerity, his kindness, his lo—I can't lie to him. "No," she whispered, "I'm not using my powers on you."

"Were you using them on me that night I kissed you?" he asked kindly.

"No," Raven admitted tearfully.

"And were you using them on me just now?" he asked softly.

"No," Raven said.

"Well, if you weren't using your powers on me, that means my feelings for you are genuine. That means, that night, I wanted to kiss you. And, if the TV hadn't broken," he chuckled, "I would have kissed you longer, harder, and deeper…the way I just kissed you now."

"Tim," Raven gasped.

"I don't know what happened on your world all those years ago…but, Raven, my feelings for you are genuine. They're mine. No one is manipulating me, least of all you." He looked at Raven with a gentle gaze. Raven's heart raced. She didn't know what to say about that. Because if Tim liked her just for her, that would be mean…that would mean…Raven looked up at Tim with wonder. He likes me! "I…" she backed away. "I have to go. I'm sorry. I have to check…something," she said.

"Are you okay?" Tim asked, instantly worried.

"I'm fine…or…um…I will be. I just…I don't know what I'm feeling. I…need to go…."

"It's okay, I get it," Tim nodded. "I understand. I'll see you later…okay?"

"Okay."

Raven marched into the House of Mystery and Black Orchid greeted her. "Hello again, Raven," she greeted. "Something is wrong. You are…frazzled."

"I am, but…I need to see an old friend, and I'm not sure how long it will take. Can you let John know? I will have my communicator on me if there's an emergency. I just need…" tears gathered in her eyes again. I'm falling apart.

Black Orchid placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "It is okay, Raven," she smiled comfortingly. "Do what you need to do."

Dick smiled at his phone, cooing at the screen as he listened to his wife. "And remember…formula. The blue canister with the bunny on it, not the red one." He curved his lips into a grin, but the moment was interrupted as he sensed something off—he was being followed. "What's wrong?"

"I am being followed."

"Old habits die hard," his wife replied, her voice light with humor.

"Apparently," he chuckled. "Alright. I'm gonna go have a chat with my stalker."

"Be careful, Dick."

"I will, Babs. I'll see you in a bit. Bye, John," he cooed at the baby before ending the call. Taking a deep breath, he approached the alley, feeling a mix of dread and determination. "Bad idea, Dick, bad idea. You promised you would stop. You're a family man now."

"Talking to yourself? That's a nasty habit," a voice emerged from the darkness. "Stupidly entering a dark alley alone? Tsk. Tsk."

The familiarity of the voice made Dick freeze. No way, he thought. As a figure stepped out of the shadows, his heart raced. She looked different—her face youthful yet hauntingly familiar. There was no doubt in Dick's mind; it was Raven—the teammate he had sort of buried ten years ago. "What would Batman think?" she smiled, a teasing glint in her eye.

"Raven?" He breathed her name in disbelief, emotions welling in his chest, threatening to overwhelm him.

"Hello, Richard," she replied with a small, almost nervous, smile. "It's been a while. Have you missed me?"

[mariacallous]

Five months ago, software engineer Shikhar Sachdev adopted a peculiar hobby. While his friends met for drinks or played FIFA 23 to unwind after work, he would come home, boot up his laptop, and spend hours filling out job applications, for sport.

Sachdev is content with his job at a San Francisco fintech company, but he writes a career blog in his spare time and had noticed a recurring sentiment: Job hunting these days is the worst. Friends described returning home from an exhausting day of work they hated, applying for new positions, and quickly growing discouraged by clunky application software and a low response rate. Research suggests the frustration is widespread: 92 percent of candidates abandon online job applications before completing them, according to the recruitment platform Appcast.

“You might hate your boss. But if you think that searching for jobs is worse, you're never going to change,” Sachdev says. “I wanted to try to put some data behind the claim that job hunting sucks.”

Sachdev set himself the challenge of applying to 500 software engineering jobs to observe exactly what made the endeavor more or less frustrating. Halfway through, however, he hit a snag. “I wanted to chop my head off,” Sachdev says. He scaled back his target to a still brain-melting 250 jobs across a range of industries and company sizes, chosen largely at random—companies he’d seen on billboards, for instance, or friends’ employers.

Sachdev timed each application from start to finish and for consistency always applied directly through a company’s career page—he ended up spending about 11 hours total filling applications. Since he wasn’t looking for a new position, he always stopped short of clicking “Submit” on a completed application, except for a few choice roles that piqued his interest. (He landed three interviews, but didn’t pursue the jobs.) He aimed to make each application serviceable, but wasn't as thorough as a truly ambitious or desperate job seeker would be, so he figures the times he logged are underestimates.

Sachdev found it took an average of 2 minutes and 42 seconds to fill out a job application—but that doesn’t include time spent identifying suitable roles, and the time could vary widely from job to job. The longest took more than 10 minutes, the shortest less than 20 seconds. Much of this variation sprang from the particularities of applicant tracking software.

Applying to work at a company that used Workday, for instance, took 128 percent longer than average for similarly sized companies in the same industry. Workday spokesperson Nina Oestlien called customer service a “core value” at the company and says that application timing is determined by how customers configure their applications. (Disclosure: WIRED owner Condé Nast uses Workday. Also, we’re hiring!)

Starting Over

Sachdev’s job hunting obsession was born partly from rejection. Originally from Geneva, Switzerland, he graduated from UC Berkeley in 2019 with a degree in environmental economics and philosophy. Most of his friends lived in the Bay Area, and career opportunities in the region abounded, so he resolved to stay.

As Sachdev’s senior year wound down, he began furiously applying for local jobs. But his heart sank each time he reached the portion of an application that asked if he needed visa sponsorship. Since he lacked US citizenship, he needed an employer to sponsor him, likely with a specialty H-1B worker visa. “When I would click the H-1B box, my application would go straight into the garbage,” he says. “I was getting rejections four minutes after I applied.”

But Sachdev has the tenacity to power through the uttermost tedium for months on end. And he discovered what looked like a loophole. Foreigners who earn STEM degrees from certain US institutions can work in the country for up to three years without a visa under a federal program called Optional Practical Training. “Who stays at their first job for more than three years?” he rationalized. So when the visa sponsorship question popped up in an application for a product manager role at a major tech company he wanted to work for, he clicked “no.”

After he landed an interview, Sachdev spent 40 hours scouring job sites for tips, cramming his notebook full of hypothetical questions and their responses, compiling a presentation the company required—and totally neglecting his coursework. Half a dozen interviews later, he got the job. His heart soared, but not for long. When he explained his immigration status to the recruiter, she rescinded the offer. Sachdev started over, eventually landing a job with a startup willing to sponsor his H-1B visa, and decided to parlay his experience into a career blog offering help to other hapless job questers.

Job hunters have long complained about the process, but it developed fresh annoyances after moving online starting in the mid-’90s, says Chris Russell, managing director of the recruitment consultancy RecTech Media. Online job boards like Monster and CareerBuilder flooded companies with candidates, giving rise to applicant tracking systems built to help recruiters manage the deluge.

These systems promised to save recruiters time by automatically ranking and filtering applicants based on keywords. From the perspective of applicants required to laboriously enter their information into the software, they felt like a new barrier. “These systems were built with the companies in mind,” says Russell. “They never really considered the user experience from the job seeker’s point of view.” A cottage industry sprang up of tools and résumé whisperers promising to help job seekers get past the automated scanners.

In recent years, new features like psychological assessments and “digital interviews,” in which applicants answer prepared questions into their webcams, only placed more barriers between candidates and human decisionmakers. Meanwhile, the fundamentals of hiring remain stuck in the past, says Scott Dobroski, a career trends expert at jobs platform Indeed. It takes three and a half months for most Indeed users to find a job, he says. “All the other parts of our lives have sped up. The hiring process has not caught up.”

Time Wasters

While job hunters have much to gripe about, from “ghost jobs” to the dreaded “résumé black hole,” Sachdev decided to focus his efforts on the initial application process. He identified three main factors that affected the time it took to apply: the size of a company, the industry it was part of, and the applicant tracking software it used.

Applicant tracking software was a major source of Sachdev’s frustration. The most common systems he encountered were Workday, Taleo, Greenhouse, Lever, and Phenom, which adds AI-powered features on top of systems like Workday. More established systems such as Workday and Taleo redirected him away from the careers page and made him create a separate account for each application, adding significant time and vexation. By the end of his 250 applications, he had 83 separate accounts.

Newer offerings such as Greenhouse and Lever spared him some of these frustrations. Applications through Lever, for instance, took 42 percent less time to complete than the average for similarly sized companies in the same industry.

Sachdev also spent many excruciating minutes retyping information he’d already uploaded on his résumé because software would misread it. Workday, for instance, would routinely populate the education field with “Munich Business School” even though Sachdev’s résumé clearly says he graduated from non-soundalike UC Berkeley. “Sometimes it's not even the time,” he says. “It's the mental fatigue of having to do it every single time.”

The longest application to fill out was for the US Postal Service, clocking in at 10 minutes and 12 seconds, while the shortest was that of hedge fund Renaissance Technologies, which requested only his name and résumé and consumed a mere 17 seconds. In general, Sachdev found that government applications took the longest—a trend that Indeed’s data backs up—followed by aerospace and consulting jobs. Younger industries such as online banks, AI firms, and crypto companies were amongst the least time-consuming. Legacy banks, for instance, took about four times longer to apply to than their newer online counterparts.

Sachdev also found applications to large companies more time-consuming than for smaller firms. In general, a doubling of company size added 5 percent to the average application time.

While the process was largely an exercise in repetition, Sachdev encountered a few creative takes on a musty old format. Plaid, a fintech company that provides APIs to connect software with bank accounts, invited applicants to apply via API. (Sachdev opted for the old-fashioned route, for consistency.) The gaming company Roblox let candidates apply in-game.

While hiring software has historically been stacked in employers’ favor, more job seekers are using their own forms of automation. Bots and tools like LazyApply use text-generation technology like that behind ChatGPT to automatically mass apply to jobs, to the likely chagrin of overwhelmed recruiters. When Sachdev posted his results on discussion site Hacker News, one commenter claimed to use bots to fill out job applications and ChatGPT to write cover letters and correspond with recruiters, fully taking over only at the interview stage. “Can you blame him?” Sachdev says. “Because the companies are doing it too. Their résumé parsers, their application tracking software, and their tools are also using AI. So it's almost as if the applicant now has this weapon they can use against the companies.”

An AI arms race that floods the job market with unserious applicants and insurmountable filtering tools is in nobody’s interest, however. Indeed’s Dobroski says some platforms, including his own, have begun rolling out a new approach that aims to save time on both sides, albeit also by leaning on algorithms. Instead of sending hundreds of résumés into the void and hoping for the best—“spray and pray” he calls it—candidates can list their skills, qualifications, and preferences and let AI suggest suitable jobs to apply for. “The matching really speeds up the hiring process, and it connects the candidate with employers that they otherwise may not even have considered,” he says.

Sachdev has his own ideas for what would make job applications more productive for both seekers and recruiters. First off, he advises applicants to save time and mental anguish by prioritizing employers that use simpler software like Lever and Greenhouse. For jobs he’s really serious about, he’ll try to make a human connection with the hiring manager on LinkedIn.

There’s a saying Sachdev likes, from computer science professor Randy Pausch: The brick walls are there for a reason. Facing and surmounting hurdles can help a person discover how much they want something. But if an employer erects too many barriers, “is an applicant really going to think, ‘That brick wall is there for a reason?’ Or is the applicant going to exit out of your website and go apply somewhere else?” Sachdev says. “I think it's the latter.”