#ill distribute them all away in my will

[apearlogist-forever]

one day im gonna find an abandoned warehouse filled with an endless supply white tshirts and black shorts. and that’s all i’ll really ever wear again. i wont ever have to do the laundry again. I will have won.

[k-pepp]

With the final season of YR coming up, I’ve been thinking about Wille’s journey again. Because he’s 16, we won’t know if he actually chooses to renounce his title or remain in his role as future king, but I have a feeling this season will give us an indication which way it will go. So, before we get any type of confirmation, I want to get my current thoughts out. I’m aware that a lot of YR Tumblr skews toward King Wilhelm so my pro-renounce post might not resonate with anyone and that’s ok. I just want to put all my thoughts together before S3 comes along with something that totally blows all my opinions and assumptions out of the water 🙂 I understand the idea of wanting Wille to be King because he could be such a great leader. He is kind and compassionate and can be good at taking charge. BUT just because a person could be good at something, doesn’t mean they should be forced to do it. My number one reason for being in favor of Renouncing his Title is the sheer fact that Wille doesn’t want to be King. He doesn’t want the title. He doesn’t want that life. Wille has been shown a multitude of times talking about how he struggles with the duties that come with being a prince. Whether it’s with Erik:

Or August:

Or Boris:

(honestly, this boy will spill his guts to anyone who is willing to even half listen to him. My god. I’m so glad they gave this poor kid a therapist) He's also talked about how he feels trapped in this position. For him, to renounce the throne would be freedom. Freedom to live a life he actually wants.

Even the mere idea of staying in his current position makes him physically ill.

Some people take the end of episode 2x06 to mean he’s moved beyond all that and accepted his role as the future king. I didn’t personally see it that way. I saw it as a combination of a few things. 1) When come face-to-face with it, he just couldn’t let August give the speech (But the fact that he was initially willing to let someone who distributed revenge porn against him become king really speaks to how much he definitely doesn’t want that position) 2) He didn’t want Simon to have to compromise his happiness and give in to a situation he didn’t actually want 3) He didn’t want to hide anymore. He wanted to be himself. Wille is a person who craves authenticity. Which brings me to a bigger point… Life as the Crown Prince / King is inherently inauthentic. One of the main pro-King arguments is that he would blaze his own trail and do things his way. But how? Being a member of the royal family is a job. The basic responsibilities of that job are to do things like diplomatic visits, hosting events, being part of photo ops, schmoozing with people… pretty much all things having to do with putting on a public persona. It’s great that he could be himself in the sense that he would be the first queer Crown Prince / King, but the baseline duties he would have to fulfill are still inherently inauthentic. And I don’t know how he would “do it his way” aside from just not doing it. He hates putting on fake smiles

the photo ops

the schmoozing with people

Erik even told Wille, the way to get through that stuff is to just pretend to be someone else.

We know he’s capable of doing it. We saw how charming he could be at Parents Day weekend. But that was because he wanted to sit with Simon and impress Simon’s mom. Other than that lunch, he mostly hid in his room. And it goes back to my original point. Just because someone may be good at something doesn’t mean they should be forced to do it. (And yes, even if he walked away from the line of succession, he could still have familial obligations, but it wouldn’t be anywhere near the level of what is expected now) At this point, Wille is only continuing as Crown Prince because of a commitment to his family. Mainly Erik.

He doesn’t want to let him down or feel like he’s betraying his legacy. To Wille, Erik was perfect. We only saw two full conversations between them and in both conversations, Erik was telling Wille to get his act together because “it’s not that hard”.

That quote is probably something he told Wille a lot. So much that Wille later regurgitates it to Boris. Three different times.  

Going on to say that Erik could handle everything easily.  

Based on the fact that Erik was going to Boris, he probably wasn’t managing everything with ease. But in Wille’s perception, he was. Wille is basically chasing a ghost. Self-imposed pressure of unattainable perfection. He bears a guilt that pushes him to want to be someone he thinks Erik would be proud of.   The problem with that is, Erik was a monarchist. Maybe he struggled a bit (which is why he went to Boris), but based on the things he would say to Wille, he backed the monarchy / family completely.

Ultimately, I just want Wille to be happy. Maybe S3 will completely change my outlook and I’ll root for him to become king because that’s what he wants. But right now, I think he only wants it out of a sense of obligation to Erik. And honestly…maybe my most controversial opinion…if he did stay in his position because of Erik, he probably wouldn’t change that much within the institution. I mean, he couldn’t change much even if he wanted to. He wouldn’t be allowed to do big things without the consent of the Swedish parliament and maybe a public referendum. And I doubt he’d even have the capability to make small changes. As already pointed out by @piebingo in this great post, Kristina didn’t actually want August to be next in line. But she was overruled. The Royal Court has a lot of power and making any sort of reforms or independent decisions is not that simple. Especially within an establishment that relies on keeping everything exactly the same. But even if that weren’t true. Even if Wille could snap his fingers and make all these huge changes… part of me doesn’t think he would. I know a lot of the folks who are pro-King Wilhelm want him to become the king just so he can completely destroy it from within. But to me, in Wille’s eyes there would be no bigger betrayal to Erik’s legacy than Wille burning the institution to the ground. And if he wants to live up to Erik’s legacy. Not betray him. Not let him down. He will act as he thinks Erik would act. If Wille becomes king because of Erik, he’ll maintain the establishment because of Erik. And he would be miserable doing it. Miserable and without Simon. Yes, my other controversial opinion. If Wille stayed as king, Wilmon wouldn’t make it. Simon is described to us as a socialist. One of his introductory scenes is him calling the monarchy the country’s biggest welfare scammers. I can’t imagine Simon giving up his musical dreams to join an institution that he hates. I also can’t imagine Wille letting him do that. That was such a big part of Wille’s growth in Season 2. Wille wouldn’t let Simon sacrifice his happiness for the sake of his own happiness (being with Simon). Even if Simon didn’t end up pursuing something in music, he made it clear in his talk with Rosh and Ayub that he wants to work hard to make something of himself.

I mean, look at him. Look at this sweet baby angel’s face when he’s told he has an opportunity that will open doors to his future. I can’t imagine him giving up his ambitions or autonomy to become prince consort. Having to live every day under royal rules and protocols. Maybe he would. I personally can’t see it. And finally, I know a main reason people like the idea of King Wille is because we like the idea of a queer king. But as much as we all want queer representation; I don’t think it should be anybody’s responsibility to be the political representation that people want to see. Wille shouldn’t be in a position he hates because he’s queer. A queer person living their life and getting out of a toxic situation is also good representation. A person can’t fix the problem by becoming part of it. Having him be the face of an institution that’s been about exploitation and oppression isn’t going to solve it. It's always been said by Lisa and Edvin that Wille’s problem is not that he’s queer. It’s that he’s a prince. Everything about what’s making him unhappy is about him being prince / the future king. Him walking away from his title would be about him escaping a future that would make him miserable. Personally, that’s what I’m hoping for.

[dtrghost]

closeness and proximity part.3

pairing: ghost x f!reader

synopsis: callsign is sunshine, because you're anything but. team 141 thought ghost was bad? at least they could crack a smile out of the guy from time to time, you? you were stone faced, all day, every day. until one day you're not, not with a certain someone anyway.

warnings: inaccurate military language and sequences, angst, allusions to mental illness (reader has sociopathic tendencies) you get the gist. Finally some fluff and emotional stuff between them so yaaayyy.

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5 part 6

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT:

word count: 2.6k

The drive back was quiet. Price drove back with Gaz and had Soap drive Ghost and Y/N. He sat in the backseat next to her, growing genuinely concerned for her mental wellbeing. The more she thought about it, about the sudden flood of emotions from a small moment in a dirty, humid bar, the more she remembered. The quicker she'd sent herself back into that room to relive those moments again, the ones she never told a soul about.

Simon had to pull her out once more in the duration of the car ride, talking with Soap and forcing her into the conversation to take her mind off of it by asking her weird, off topic questions that she answered. They got back to base and she attempted to split away from the group to her room, only to be yanked back with a serious look from her comrade.

They sat her down at the dinner table, and she suddenly felt small. She felt like she was being interrogated with the eyes of 4 staring at her intently, waiting for her to say something. Yet she didn't, she stayed quiet for 3 minutes, glancing around the room and sighing irritatedly.

"Well. Are you going to tell us or not." Ghost pressed, leaning forward in his chair next to her. She scoffed, chuckling out of anger, the sound running shivers up their spines.

"What the hell is this. You're not my fucking therapists, so quit trying to act like it." She spat, her eyes full of fire and rage.

"You listen here muppet. It's one thing for you to be angry and violent out on missions, but it's a whole other when you lash out at us." Her eyes narrowed at him, watching the flames of determination and vexation dancing, growing. She was lost in them for a moment, the others completely confused about the sudden moment they were sharing. Simon couldn't describe the urge to help her, to get her to open up to them.

Maybe he was just too curious, but what about the slip up in the bar?

love?

She had none, that he felt sure of. Sympathy maybe, a simple attempt to ground her, that's all it was.

He saw something as he read past her rage, it was small and fleeting, a light. A flicker of a candle, but this one wasn't out of anger, it was soft, gentle.

The phone rang, interrupting them as Price pulled out his phone.

"This is Price how copy?" He listened before his eyes landed on her, and just like that, the candlelight disappeared, blown out and left like it was a figment of his imagination. Now there was a void, a shell of human ready to serve and follow her orders. All of her anger dissipated as she rose from her seat. "Rog." He hung up and sighed, looking at her with a sorrowful look, one that she didn't register nor care for.

"You and Ghost have orders to be shipped out to a distribution hub in Amsterdam, you'll fly in a heli and drive the rest of the way. Your chopper will be here in 20 minutes."

"Affirm." She stormed out after that, pissed off by what had just occurred. She angrily threw her civilian mask off to the side and yanked on her work one, strapping on her vest and clipping her gear.

"This is Sunshine, Bravo 0-7 confirm channel." She spoke into her radio, adjusting her gear to her liking, making it tight and in hands reach.

"Bravo 0-7 confirmed." His voice echoed in her room, earning a sigh of irritation as she turned to look at him. He was geared up, making him look thicker than he already was with the extra padding. Instead of taking him she shoved past him, earning a 'tch' as he grabbed her arm, yanking her back to look at him.

"What the fuck is your problem?" She was angry at him. Not at the team, not at headquarters, at him. Why after all these years he suddenly cared. After all the missions they went on together, all the looks she didn't understand or the fleeting moments where she felt something more than anger or a void nothingness. He could see her confusion, making him sigh and put a hand on his hip as a hand lifted to try and sooth her down.

"I'm just trying to help-"

"I don't need your fucking help. So back off." He watched her stomp away.

"Bloody Americans." He muttered, falling into step with her. She remained silent the whole ride there, from when they landed, she was to carride. He watched her, watched as flickers of emotion passed through her gaze. 6 years of pent up feelings did something to people, he knew that better than anyone, and because of that he knew she was going to crack soon, and it was going to be his fault.

He would continue to push until one day she snapped, whether she'd cry or scream or throw a punch at him, he would be there, he had to be. He recalled the nights he'd spent with her in the last few years, where they barely talked but rather absorbed each other's presence as they cleaned their weapons or read through mission briefs. When they did talk it was meaningless, it served no benefit, no new information learned about each other, but it was comforting. He felt comfort in her coldness at the time, maybe because there was someone just as fucked up as he was.

She thought about it often too, the time they spent together on missions, how it ran smoother with him around. She didn't understand the sensations she'd get around him, the heat that burned in her chest, her face. How if she thought about him at night while he slept on the hard floor next to her, she'd press her legs together because of the heat that festered there too. She knew what desire was, she was aware of the need for pleasure, but she never indulged. What was the point if it were not with him? And in her mind she would never be with him, she wasn't good enough for that, she wasn't there, enough for something so intimate.

She knew that maybe she could live a more normal life if she had let him help her, but everything was so on and off. During the ride there she'd think, maybe she would let him help, that wouldn't be so bad. Then she'd snap out of it and be angry with herself for even allowing that thought to cross her mind. She watched a safe house appear from beyond the trees.

"We're stopping here for the night. Intel says the shipment doesn't come until tomorrow." Their driver informed them. They filed out of their cars and distributed themselves to their assigned rooms, and lo and behold, she was forced to share with Ghost. Simon watched her sigh deeply and nod, following her to their shared room.

"Go shower first." He commanded, and she obeyed without a word. She was too exhausted to fight with him. She'd spent the whole way there trying to figure out her shit before it began to affect her performance, and it killed her. She was far off the mark, easily irritated, snappy. She hoped it would wash off in the shower, and she took deep breaths while staring at herself in the mirror, hoping to turn it all off like she did before.

But she couldn't, she'd look and see anger, or a foreign feeling she didn't have a name for. Sadness? No, she had nothing to be sad about. So she huffed, exiting the bathroom to see Simon waiting patiently on his cot. She didn't spare him a glance and laid down on hers, staring up at the ceiling as he analyzed her for a moment, getting no reaction to his intense stare.

He left for his shower, and she listened to his clothes drop, letting her mind wander to what he looked like underneath them.

It was a better distraction than negativity, it made her feel something more enticing, until she was left sexually frustrated. She listened to him shower. The way the water would hit the floor in ripples, imagining how his skin shined and dripped, the coolness of the substance and how they hit his scars. Yeah, this was a better thought. She stayed there, in that moment, even after he walked out.

He snapped his fingers in front of her face, earning a glare from her.

"What're you thinkin' about now then?" He questioned, grunting as his big frame hit his bed. She didn't respond, and he didn't expect her to, likely because she was still mad at him.

"You in the shower." His head turned to her slowly, flabbergasted by what he was hearing. He listened to the melody of her voice as her shoulders shook. For the first time since they met, she laughed, truly. She found his reaction hilarious, how wide his eyes got in horror and... hope? She found that funny too, so funny she doubled over the side, cackling like a mad woman.

"Jesus fuckin' christ." Simon sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose for a moment before laughing himself. He couldn't help it, she just had one of those laughs that forced you to laugh too, the wheeze, the gasps for air as she hit her stomach and fell onto the floor.

"Sunshine, you're gonna die of a heart attack at this rate." He spoke to her, watching her wipe the tears forming in her eyes as she took a deep breath, sitting on her floor.

"I hate you, ya know." She confessed suddenly, surprising him as he looked at her curiously.

"You piss me off, you fucked me up. Don't understand anything anymore. Spent the whole day trying to put myself back together and it's just-" She mimicked an explosion, her hands dropping heavily onto her lap. He sat up, sitting down on the floor in front of her with his knee facing up to rest in his arm on.

"Well if you tell me about it, maybe I can put some things into perspective for you." He offered. He watched her mental battle, the conflict blazing through her skull. He could practically see them floating around her head like a thunderstorm.

"Oh fuckin' hell, just say it. You're thinking too much." She huffed, letting her head fall back as she stared at the ceiling for a moment.

"I can't. I can't explain it. After I got out, I didn't understand much of anything, they tried to wipe me, break me in a way others couldn't by making me forget myself and replace it with what they wanted. But I was rescued before that could happen. I was thrown back in before I could fully recover, because I had a skill set others didn't."

"Things came back in fragments, pieces of my past came back to me, and I realized that maybe it was better that I didn't remember. That if I stayed a shell I wouldn't have anymore emotion burdens than I already did. But it was too late, and it all came back to me one night in shambles. From birth to that moment, everything. I couldn't handle it, so I turned it off, I reverted back to this technique I learned while I was kidnapped, and from then I could never turn it back on." He knew what she was referring to.

Autopilot, where your mind went blank and your body operated on it's own. You couldn't feel anything, you just did what you had to.

"Then I met you. And at first that was fine. You were just another soldier that I had to work with, and then we talked that one night, and talked some more the next. And feelings began to surface on their own. I don't know what it is, excitement maybe? All I knew was that I wanted to talk to you, I looked forward to it, I got these weird feelings in my gut whenever I did."

Was she confessing to a crush... on him? She didn't care. What she did or did not confess to wasn't a concern. He asked and he was receiving.

"And then you started caring, out of nowhere. Years went by and suddenly a few days ago, after I skinned someone alive and you found out some rough shit happened to me, you changed. It made me angry, because I hate feeling, especially things I can't understand."

He noticed that too, that he cared more.

"New information can change your approach, and you have to adapt and improvise." He explained vaguely. He saw something reaching out in her, even through this dump of emotion and information, he noticed the cry for help deep inside her. The part she buried underneath years of mistreatment and being used.

"Stop talking to me like a soldier." She snapped, earning a soft gaze from him that she hadn't received before. It made her chest feel weird, and he could tell by how she grabbed at the shirt covering it.

"You're pissing me off."

"No, I'm breaking you." They made eye contact. All the breath left her lungs in that moment, from his gentle tone and low volume to the look in his eyes that made her eyes water, it was too much. She couldn't take it. Her stomach lurched, and before another word could be uttered between them she scurried to the bathroom, emptying the contents in her abdomen into the toilet.

He was by her side in an instant, shushing her quietly and rubbing her back. His heart sank at the feeling of her shiver and the sound of her retching.

"I gotcha Y/N. Always have right?" She could feel her mind cracking, tears welling in her eyes from the pressure of the vomit and being an emotional wreck.

"I can't." She muttered weakly, sitting against the shower door, grimacing as the air entering her lungs burned with the raw feeling in her throat.

"You can. In all my years being by your side, there's nothing you can't do love, you and I both know that more than anyone." Her eyes met his, seeing his seriousness and true belief in his words. His hand came up and brushed away her tears before her mask absorbed it, the rough pad of his thumbs leaving sparks in the areas he touched. She didn't say anything at first, taking his hand into hers and giving it a squeeze of reassurance, more for herself than for him.

"After our mission. Please." He couldn't say no to a plead like that, so with a curt nod he agreed and held out his other hand to her. He watched her hand envelope his, finding the size difference amusing as his basically swallowed them in his grasp.

"Let's get some sleep yeah. You've done enough for today." She let him bring her to bed, his arm secured around her shoulders, feeling her hand on his waist. He sat next to her until she fell asleep before laying on his own cot. He looked at her for most of the night, making sure she didn't wake up, pondering about what she could be dreaming about as her eyelids flickered ever so often.

He followed her steady breaths to lull him to sleep, praying that tomorrow would go by without too much of a struggle so he could have another moment as intimate as the previous with her, even if it was small.

And that's part 3!! Finally some fluff and opening up, but I wouldn't get too comfortable with it just yet. I have some plans, not sure how I'll execute it but we're getting somewhere. Thank you so much for reading!!

[chr0macide]

not my ass making a second oc for a dead fandom

Magdalena can have a boyfriend as a treat :)

Ok so I decided to name him Christopher Hawthorne, he’s employed at the police department as a detective (Bradley Beans is one of his coworkers) but he actually works for the purgers as an inside agent. When the purgers were arrested at the end of Break In 1 he was one of the people who helped them get out of jail, he released the ones who could be released and helped the rest of them break out in secret. I think Bradley would be suspicious that he might be a spy but he can’t find any dirt on him. I don’t think there would be workplace beef between them though, Bradley doesn’t seem like the type to beef with someone when he doesn’t actually know whether they’re an enemy asset or not. But anyway Christopher used to work for Larry before he was defeated in Break In 1, after that he was transferred to work directly under the Headmaster.

He really likes hunting and his house is in the same woods as the villain base. He hunts humans too sometimes, one of his jobs in the purgers’ organization is to hunt down and kill deserters and defectors. He doesn’t like nor dislike that part of his job, he feels that it is just something he has to do.

I headcanon a lot of purgers were born into the mob but Christopher was not, he didn’t go to Purge University either, but he’s the type of guy who joins whichever side he thinks is going to come out on top so he ended up here. In his opinion, the mob is so deeply rooted in the city that it would do more harm than good to try and take it down.

As for how he and Magdalena (my other oc) knew each other, she was arrested after the purge in Break In 1 and met him in the police station. She is a nonviolent offender so she was one of the people who he managed to release quickly, but she decided she liked him and kept hanging around him whenever she had the chance, which wasn’t that often because she was usually cooped up in the villain base tbh lol. So she wouldn’t leave him alone (cat distribution system real) but he didn’t realize she was into him at first, because Magdalena is so outwardly inexpressive. But he figured it out eventually

It would have thrown too much suspicion on Christopher if Magdalena kept showing up around him so he started visiting her in the villain base instead. Mary didn’t like him all up in her shit (I think she would tend not to like other people who answer to the Headmaster directly, besides the other Scaries maybe) but he has a high enough rank in the organization to show up whenever he wants anyway. At the end of Break In 2 when Magdalena fled the villain base, she went to his house. She told him the base got too dangerous after Mary’s defeat so she was just trying to get away for her own safety, but inwardly she was actually thinking about deserting. And he kinda knew she was lying, but he acted like he didn’t because he knew he might be ordered to kill her if/when it was found out that she abandoned the organization. This way he had some plausible deniability in case someone found out she was at his house and wondered why he didn’t kill her when he had that chance.

Ok I think that’s all the lore, ill put some things about his personality and other stuff

He almost never smiles. He’s not constantly blank faced the way Magdalena is, he just doesn’t smile. I’m sure he has a sense of humor of some kind but he doesn’t normally express it by laughing or anything like that

His default facial expression is annoyed/pissed

Despite his resting bitch face, he wouldn’t normally come off as an asshole when you talk to him, he would probably seem kind of aloof, but he wouldn’t be unpleasant to be around

He thought Magdalena was kinda creepy at first. When she is in love she gets a little bit weird about it, just a lil bit. One of the things she would sometimes do was stare at him vacantly for an uncomfortably long time and he didn’t get why at first, but it was because she just liked looking at him lol.

He’s ~6 ft tall maybe, built like a tank and he’s in his 30s, also he was born with poliosis that’s why he has the white forelock

He is nonconfrontational in a way. He works for the purge but he’s not a psycho (other than hunting deserters, his role in the mob is pretty nonviolent). He would try to resolve conflicts between the people around him. However, he tends to ignore it/brush it off when people try to start shit with him in particular, and he does in in a way that can make it seem like he thinks he’s above others. Plus, while he isn’t exactly a hermit, he can be picky about who he’s friends with and that also causes him to come off as a little conceited

This is not proofread we die like men (lmk if theres any spelling/grammar errors that make something completely unreadable tho lmao) here is another pic of Christopher I drew

[salt-baby]

As someone who is currently working in the healthcare field and looking at attended medical school, can you please elaborate on the ableism and doctors post you made? I’d very much like to avoid inadvertently falling into that category.

Somehow this missed my radar, my bad!

It's a difficult question to answer, although it is the right question to be asking.

You can find my other elaborations here and here, which will likely be helpful.

But to address your specific question, when I think about the ableism of practitioners, in some cases it is just bias, but in many it's just your run of the mill ignorance.

It takes experience to work well with disabled people - both because of the heterogeneity of them, and because the disabled experience is so far removed from the able bodied one.

Some people like myself call themselves disabled as an identity they're proud of, some people call themselves disabled but are uncomfortable with their condition to various degrees, and a lot of people would find it offensive for you to call them disabled because they would call themselves chronically ill or not impaired at all.

In your medical practice, "disabled" is going to be a legal term with a set definition, used to distribute benefits. You'll be taught an impairment model of disability, and your first instinct will likely be to try and fix the problem your patient is experiencing.

In a case like mine, that's not a mindset the patient is going to appreciate, as backwards as it sounds. Yes, I'm in a doctor's office to get treated, but the reality is that expert doctors have already evaluated my conditions and done all they can to help me. There's no quick fix - the fantasy of curing a difficult case is impossible with me, but it doesn't stop some young doctors from trying. My disability isn't one illness, but ten, and often what disables me is the environment around me rather than my actual illness (this is called the social model of disability, and that's where you should start studying).

I'm in a doctor's office to find relief from specific symptoms, or for a new problem (secondary to my existing conditions) that has popped up. Some residents have reviewed my entire medical file, and asked about things that weren't followed up on, and there's only so many times I can say "there's nothing we can do about it". Many premeds, when I mention the medications I'm taking, think that there must be some kind of better medication setup for me. Except there isn't, all of my meds are essential, and at this stage of illness, all medications have nasty side effects. I will never get better and will likely live the rest of my life on immunosuppressants and I'm okay with that, but that's very difficult for able bodied people, esp medical practitioners, to accept.

And in many cases, medical practitioners have put their foot in their mouth by just being ignorant. One person working at a rehab hospital asked if I slept in my orthotics - the answer is no, obviously, orthotics are painful to wear (it's also bad form to ask a disabled person about their disability just because you're curious). Someone told me it'll be okay, they used to wear wrist braces too and they're fine now - in reality, their supervisor just told me to consult surgeons, I was recommended casts, and my wrists remain permanently displaced to this day. I lost most of my ability to write. Our issues were not the same.

On another occasion, a premed picked up my orthotics and moved them away from me without asking - those are expensive (2000$ USD) and irreplaceable, and I need them to walk, I'm vulnerable without them. But to others, they wouldn't be aware that those braces are that valuable. Many disabled people, myself included, view mobility aids as an extension of their own body. For all intents and purposes, my orthotics are my "knees". I often compare it to a phone - it'd be really weird to take someone's phone and move it away from them, or even to touch it unannounced in the first place.

The reality of what a disabled life actually looks like is obscure to the vast majority of able bodied people. Let me be clear, I live a happy and satisfying life, where I enjoy my work and my friends and my family. My existence is not a tragedy, and when it's treated like one, it devalues my hard-won happiness in life and what I have to contribute to the world. But at the same time, every hour of every day is impacted by my disability. I have to change how I cook because I struggle with lifting a pot or standing on my feet for too long, my closet has to be adapted for my orthotics and nerve pain, a number of medications have to be kept basically within ten feet of me at all times, and I have to be very careful anytime I eat something I didn't prepare myself.

You may prescribe a medication which you know can cause nausea, and not realize to your patient, that side effect looks like being sick everyday, skipping meals, wearing a mask so a smell doesn't set you off, and not enjoying eating anymore. You may write a script for the test which is medically the correct option, but your patient may be sensitive to the specifics of the procedure (ie, for religious reasons, it may be difficult to strip down to a gown for some of the more involved imaging procedures). Cystometry and other urological procedures especially. I find this is where doctors sometimes inadvertently do harm. The best option for your patient isn't always the best option medically - it's what fits their priorities and improves their quality of life.

Understand that the current culture in medicine, for doctors, is often very callous and frustrated towards their patients. Recently I heard someone express that their patient needed to just accept their disability already and start being compliant with treatment - they had been disabled for three months. It took me a year to feel even remotely settled with becoming disabled, and my disability isn't nearly as severe as that patient's. Do not follow in your colleagues' footsteps.

If you spend the time trying to understand your patients (which may look like reading disability theory papers, memoirs, watching documentaries, possibly even volunteering, talking to some of your seniors with more experience, etc) then you're already miles better than most of your coworkers. Take the time to consider it from your patients point of view, and even though it's not what's in your textbook, appreciate the value of the information your patient brings to the table (their experience, their concerns, their gut feelings), and you've already done what most disabled people are desperately searching for in a practitioner.

The reality of a minority identity, is that for adults who have become accustomed to something like being disabled, it matters a lot more where your heart is than what you actually say. I don't care if someone is politically correct - I care if they're trying. Even if they're not quite there, that effort will pretty much always be seen and appreciated. I'd far rather someone call me "handicapped" but never view me as lesser, rather than someone who falls over themselves to "accommodate my limitations" and never actually intends to accommodate anything. Be sincere, and you can make mistakes, we'll know what the intention was.

Best of luck, my friend.

[angelsanarchy]

What It Cost: Samuel Lafferty x Y/N Mini Series PRT 05

Tagging: @ithinkitstimetonap @kappasbbgirl @chainsawgvtsfvck @luzclarita57 @miniisunshine @madamemaximoff06 @romanroyapoligist @thirtyratsinasuit @ethical-cain-vinnel @blueberrypancakesworld @dumbbitchdelrey @loljustignoreth4t @tvgirlsbluehair @s0ulfulll @dukesofsp00ks @mommymilkers0526 @vomiting-blood @lustkillers @s-0lar @hisemoslut @roryculkinsgf @ultrakissed @kappasbbgirl @starry-eyed-wild-child

Thing's have changed a bit in the Lafferty family since their father took ill. The boys had really stepped up and started trying to incorporate a few different things into the day to day which most were on board with but not all. Dan seemed to convince them that he was speaking directly with the lord and he would be able to carry them all into the new world order. One in which there were no taxes or justice system. One where they could all have many wives and continue to grow their family name to spread across state lines.

Y/n just tried to keep her head down and stay out of the way as tensions started to grow between. Brenda was the newest addition to the family and had seemed to be butting heads already with the others. She was a topic of conversation most nights between the wives. Y/n made sure to keep her mouth shut and play Switzerland as long as possible to avoid upsetting anyone.

When the phone rang, she knew it was Samuel summoning Sara for a task because that was the system they had worked out. Sara had felt faint all morning and Y/n insisted she lie down for a while so she could care for the kids and the house. Y/n grabbed a tray of drinks and snacks and carried it down the steps to where they were all working intently on pamphlets that they planned to distribute among the community.

"Where is Sara?" Samuel spoke up confused to see Y/n coming down the steps.

"She's not feeling well today. I told her she should lie down for a bit and rest." Y/n explained. She smiled at his brother Robin as he took the glass of lemonade gratefully.

"So you think you can give her permission to rest?" Samuel's words made Y/n pause.

"No, I merely suggested-"

"You don't get to make suggestions. If she wants to take a nap in the middle of the day then she must ask my permissions. There are far too many things she could be doing instead of lazing about in bed." Samuel scolded. Y/n was surprised by his tone. She hadn't seen this side of him often and on the rare occasion that she did, she had never been on the receiving end of it.

"She is ill, Samuel." Y/n tried again to explain but he clenched his jaw.

"Did you happen to get your medical license while washing dishes and I just wasn't aware?" Samuel asked crossing his arms over his chest and some of the others chuckled. Y/n shook her head and grabbed the empty tray from the table to take back upstairs. She remained silent as she started to clean the tray off and when she felt a hand on her hip she batted it away.

"It's just me." Samuel said quietly.

"Yes I know it's you. I'm busy." Y/n didn't look at him when she said it and he took the tray from her hands and pulled her by the elbow to the bathroom before closing the door behind himself.

"What's gotten into you?" Samuel asked with genuine curiosity. Y/n looked at him like he was oblivious.

"I don't appreciate being scolded for no reason in front of your family and I certainly don't appreciate you disregarding Sara's health. She's your wife, the mother of your children and a very good friend of mine. I was merely trying to help-" Samuel put his hands on her arms.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have taken my stress out on you. You are right to be upset about my disregard for Sara. How is she?" He asked rubbing up and down her arms. He could tell she was slowly coming back around just by his touch.

"She's nauseated and exhausted. She could be pregnant or just ate something that didn't agree with her." Y/n said keeping her eyes on the floor.

"Pregnant...well wouldn't that be a true blessing." Samuel tucked some of her hair behind her ear and she finally looked at him.

"Next time you want to make fun of me, I'd prefer it not be with such a crowd." She muttered.

"Can I make it up to you? I'm so incredibly sorry for being so rude to you. Please let me show you how sorry I am." Samuel sunk to his knees slowly in front of her, making sure to keep his eyes locked on hers.

"Samuel..." Y/n was ready to protest until he took the waist of her skirt and slide it to her ankles. Her white cotton undies were damp as he buried his face between her legs, taking in her scent. Y/n closed her eyes as she gripped the back of his head, using his ponytail as a handle when he carefully pulled her panties down.

"What if one of your brothers comes looking-" Samuel put his arm under Y/n's legs and brought both of her knees to either side of his head so her legs could rest over his shoulders as he started eating her out. Y/n bit her lip so hard, she tasted the tang of blood in her mouth.

"S-Samuel." Her moan came out in a whisper as he shook his head between her folds, licking and sucking while maintain his eyes on her.

"Oh-fff." Y/n almost let her pleasure get the better of her but Samuel's head picked up.

"Say it. Let me hear your sins sweetheart." Samuel licked a long strip from the bottom of her cunt to the top of her clit and Y/n gripped his ponytail once again.

"Fuck...oh fuck. Please don't stop." She pushed her hips into his face and he went back to torturing her clit and probing his tongue into her pussy until he could taste her release and feel the squeeze of her knees around his head. She cried out a whimper as he continued to tease her swollen clit even after he knew she had reached her release, legs jumping with each pass.

"You taste heavenly." He took one last lick before carefully placing her legs back onto the bathroom tile, letting her get her bearings before get back to his feet. He helped her slip back into her panties, making sure to pat the wet spot with his fingertips.

"Do you forgive me?" He asked putting his hands on her hips, watching her in the mirror as she held onto the sink to collect herself. She looked at his reflection and smiled.

"On one condition." She smirked making Samuel chuckle.

"And what condition is that?" She turned around and looked at him, his hair out of place from how aggressively she pulled on it and the shine of his lips from collecting her juices.

"I want a kiss." She said sweetly making Samuel's chest warm. Something so innocent as a kiss following what he had just done to her reminded him how completely precious she was. He stepped closer to her, putting his hands on her face as he brought her lips to his. She rested her hands atop his and kissed him back with such passion, Samuel almost forgot where he was for a moment.

"Hey Sam! You gonna eat this sandwich or what?" He heard Dan yell from the other side of the door and Samuel pulled out of the kiss to stare at Y/n.

"I already ate. Go for it." He said with a grin. Y/n shook her head at him and playfully slapped his chest. Samuel couldn't put his finger on it but something about kissing Y/n made him feel like he was having an outer body experience. It made him feel renewed, like God's light was shining directly through his chest. Being with her made him feel reborn.

[religion-is-a-mental-illness]

Zionists are genocidal religious extremists. And you claim religion is mental illness. Seems you are more mentally ill than you think huh buddy. But i get it, it's extremely easy to believe what you believe when you're so abrasive and unpleasant that you have no one off line to discuss these things with. Hopefully your self made misery at least gives you a fake sense of purpose, otherwise you're just sitting here stewing for nothing :)

LOL. Sure, hon. How much did that new globe cost, because you're projecting. You're talking about yourself. Something is not right in the pit of your stomach, and you're projecting it onto me.

Here's what's funny. Zionism is political, not religious. It's not about making everyone Jewish, its about maintaining a political entity of Israel.

Zionism | ˈzīəˌnizəm | noun a movement for (originally) the re-establishment and (now) the development and protection of a Jewish nation in what is now Israel. It was established as a political organization in 1897 under Theodor Herzl, and was later led by Chaim Weizmann.

So, by saying this:

genocidal religious extremists

What you've accidentally done is admit that you're not talking about political Zionism, you're talking about religious Judaism. You've revealed yourself as a Nazi-grade antisemite for all the world to see.

Israel could annihilate the entire Gaza Strip, but don't. Hamas want to obliterate Israel, but can't. You haven't even figured that out yet. If there was an actual "genocide," it would have been over months ago. How monumentally dumb are you?

There is no "genocide." There is a war. They are different and you know it. A war Hamas, the Nazis Of Color (NOC), started. One you celebrated until it became clear Hamas is inevitably going to lose. It's only a matter of time.

The IDF said it was intended to enable residents to "evacuate from specific places for their safety if required." 

Residents in multiple numbered areas were sent SMS warnings on Friday, the military said.  

"The IDF will begin a crushing military attack on your area of residence with the aim of eliminating the terrorist organization Hamas," the warnings said, urging people in the sectors to seek shelter and "stay away from all military activity of every kind."

"As someone who teaches division level urban warfare, what has really blown my mind is that Israel issued maps to the civilians [in Gaza] telling them where they would be operating each day. … I've never seen a military do that," said Spencer, who visited Israel last month and toured the combat zone in and around Gaza. 

"Doing this puts the attacking military at a disadvantage because it signals to the defending military what they’re doing," he said. "The element of surprise is usually a top priority in wars, but Israel is giving up all of that in order to prevent civilian harm.

"If that is going to be the standard going forward, I don't know how the U.S. military and others are going to do that. We’re not going to send text messages. We’re not going to be able to put out maps, even if we do decide to give warnings."

What the hell kind of "genocide" involves sending text messages and distributing maps of where Israel's military initiatives will be conducted to the same people your pea-sized brain thinks they want to exterminate? Do you even comprehend how completely fucking retarded you are? Of course you can't.

Israel does everything it can to minimize civilian casualties. Hamas does everything it can to maximize civilian casualties.

The civilian to target (i.e. Hamas) casualty ratio for the Israel initiatives has been 1.5:1. In normal urban warfare, 9:1 is regarded as acceptable. A sixth of any average urban war.

Let me put that another way: if this was any other army but Israel's there should and would be six times as many civilian casualties as there have been. And it would still be regarded as an average urban war with acceptable losses. And even then it would still not qualify as a "genocide."

You have literally nothing to back up your stupid, ignorant claim. It's false. It's demonstrably false. It's factually false. It's ridiculously false.

And that's when you started pretending and lying and gaslighting and lying some more. You know it's not a genocide. You know it. You know it for a fact. You're just repeating stupid mantras because you're a shallow, mindless follower and you're afraid of what would happen if you sat down and thought for yourself. You might lose your tribe and your unwarranted moral certitude.

What you're angry about is that I tell the truth and I don't care who it upsets, while you're too cowardly to step out of line with the authoritarian tribalists you've associated yourself with. You're terrified they'll turn on you, and you're taking it out on me because I don't carry the same burden as you.

What's fascinating is that your whole "Zionist" schtick is literally the same "Jews control the world" tinfoil hat conspiracy nutcase crap as right-wing cranks have been spewing for years. The far-left and the far-right are now collaborating on their conspiracy theories, apparently, because you're completely in sync. You're regurgitating far-right talking points, yet you think you're being original and progressive.

So, let's loop back to this, because it's jaw-droppingly astonishing.

genocidal religious extremists

It's the most self-unaware thing I've heard of in months.

You want to talk genocidal religious extremists? You support literal fundamentalist religious terrorists. Actual, literal Islamic far-far-far-right, kill-and-die-for-Allah, fundamentalist terrorists. People who murder gay people and throw acid in the faces of women who do not cover properly.

https://quranx.com/Hadith/Nasai/DarusSalam/Volume-3/Book-23/Hadith-2527

It was narrated from 'Abudullah bin Hubshi Al-Khath 'ami that the Prophet was asked: "Which deed is best?" He said: "Faith in which there is no doubt, Jihad in which there is no stealing of the spoils of war, and Hjijatun Mabrurah."[1] It was said: "Which prayer is best? He said:"That in which there is ling Qunut (standing)." It was said: "Which charity is best?" He said: "The poor's night." It was said: "Which Hijrah (emigration) is best?" He said: "One who shuns (Hahara) that which Allah has forbidden." It was said: "One who strives against the idolaters with his life and his wealth. "It was said: "Which death is best?" He said: "One who sheds his blood while his horse's feet are cut with swords."

https://quranx.com/Hadith/Malik/USC-MSA/Book-21/Hadith-4

Yahya related to me from Abdullah ibn Abd ar-Rahman ibn Mamar al- Ansari that Ata ibn Yasar said that the Messenger of Allah, may Allah bless him and grant him peace, said, "Shall I tell you who has the best degree among people? A man who takes the rein of his horse to do jihad in the way of Allah."

https://quranx.com/Hadith/Muslim/USC-MSA/Book-20/Hadith-4635

It has been narrated on the authority of Anas b. Malik (through a different chain of transmitters) that the Messenger of Allah (ﷺ) said: Nobody who enters Paradise will (ever like to) return to this world even if he were offered everything on the surface of the earth (as an inducement) except the martyr who will desire to return to this world and be killed ten times for the sake of the great honour that has been bestowed upon him.

That law is shari'a. That means, no music. That means no memes, no fandoms, no art with representations of living creatures. That means one religion and one religion only: Islam. That means no history other than Islamic history. You want to leave? You die. You object? You die. You violate the tenets of Islam? You die.

Every single thing you love, they hate. Everything you are, they hate. Everything about you, they hate. They want to destroy all of it. Nothing about you is acceptable within shari'a.

Nothing. Everything about you disappears when the genocidal religious extremists of Hamas get their way.

You're an ignorant, stupid, smooth-brained lemming being used by religious fanatics who hate you and intend to murder you when they achieve Islamic supremacy.

You doubt me? Here's a Palestinian imam saying so himself.

It's absolutely astonishing how mindlessly ignorant and desperate you are to be murdered by the totalitarian fanatics for whom you work overtime as an apologist.

Imagine being a "they/them" and defending the most extreme far-right oppressive, misogynistic, homophobic, violent ideology that has ever existed, and thinking you were a moral and intellectual genius.

Do you know how women say "I do" in an Islamic marriage ceremony? That's a trick question. Their consent is not required. She's not even asked.

What happens when a woman doesn't want to have sex with her husband? Because she is obligated to do so when summoned, Allah is mad at her and she is cursed.

https://quranx.com/Hadith/Bukhari/USC-MSA/Volume-4/Book-54/Hadith-460

Narrated Abu Huraira: Allah's Messenger (ﷺ) said, "If a husband calls his wife to his bed (i.e. to have sexual relation) and she refuses and causes him to sleep in anger, the angels will curse her till morning."

https://quranx.com/23.1-6?Context=3

Certainly will the believers have succeeded: They who are during their prayer humbly submissive And who shun vain conversation, And they who are observant of zakah And they who guard their private parts Except from their wives or those their right hands possess, for indeed, they will not be blamed

"Those their right hand possess" means sex-slaves. Concubines. Women enslaved specifically for sex.

So, when you say:

genocidal religious extremists

You have literally no idea what you're talking about. You're dangerously ignorant.

They want to kill you. They intend to kill you. They hate you. They will not accept you. They regard you as an abomination. When they get their hands on you, your "pronouns" will be was/were.

That's the blunt reality.

https://quranx.com/27.55

Do you indeed approach men with desire instead of women? Rather, you are a people behaving ignorantly."

https://quranx.com/29.28

And [mention] Lot, when he said to his people, "Indeed, you commit such immorality as no one has preceded you with from among the worlds.

https://quranx.com/26.173

And We rained upon them a rain [of stones], and evil was the rain of those who were warned.

https://quranx.com/9.29

Fight against such of those who have been given the Scripture as believe not in Allah nor the Last Day, and forbid not that which Allah hath forbidden by His messenger, and follow not the Religion of Truth, until they pay the tribute readily, being brought low.

https://quranx.com/Hadith/Bukhari/USC-MSA/Volume-1/Book-8/Hadith-387

Narrated Anas bin Malik: Allah's Messenger (ﷺ) said, "I have been ordered to fight the people till they say: 'None has the right to be worshipped but Allah.' And if they say so, pray like our prayers, face our Qibla and slaughter as we slaughter, then their blood and property will be sacred to us and we will not interfere with them except legally and their reckoning will be with Allah."

Just because you hate yourself, your life and the safe, comfortable, western world you live in doesn't mean the rest of us are going to let you take us down with you.

You want to annihilate yourself? Go for it. But you won't take the rest of us along off the cliff you're determined to go flying off.

Re-examine every part of your stupid, miserable life, you utter, utter moron.

[keruukat]

My CJVerse Masterpost

Hey! With the recent breaching of containment of the CJVerse upon Tumblr I figured I’d finally get a blog and subject my brainrot over my silly little guys upon the world. Anyway! This’ll be my masterpost for brief descriptions of all of my characters as of 11/8/23. Including Bad End and guys who have yet to hit the chatroom!

First off, my first and favorite: my “canon” guys! In quotes as, as all writers know, removing a character from isolation causes character growth. These guys have already formed Whole and split once, and are currently attempting to break the loop and live Whole-free, as per his request.

To kick it off, Whole himself! His chatroom nickname is Tempo, as these four have music themed nicknames. He’s generally kind, if self-sacrificing. Believes his Thirds deserve to live more than he does. Not necessarily suicidal per se, but would rather be split. Still, he rides the high of being Alive when he’s here. Enjoys the time he’s here but isn’t afraid of splitting. Has been looping for around 7 years, so he’s used to it. Has been looking for ways to make it easier on his Thirds but nothing he does changes anything of the loop. Art by @disruptivevoib !!!!

Here’s his Soul. His nickname is Amp but he considers such his actual name, as it was relayed back to him through Tempo when he split. Mistakenly convincing him it was a gift from him for the longest time. He used to knit, hence the knitting project in his profile picture, but after an incident with a certain cognitohazardous twizzler he can’t stand the sight of yarn, particularly red. Has extreme self-sacrificing tendencies, and will shamelessly attempt to carry other’s burdens for them despite being crushed by his own. He’s healing, and is doing better, but still struggles. Is also struggling g with apathy and finding a new hobby, but uses a notebook gifted to him to try to pick up songwriting again. Art by @starryhologram !

Heart Tiem! His name is Tune and he is FIRMLY in japathy, and has been since the start of this loop. He locked himself away at his Mind’s antagonizing and attempts to incapacitate him, alongside his verbal beratement. Hasn’t done much beyond run away from their Psyche recently, but that’s another long story. Art by @squeak-4657 :D

Last but not least, Static! He’s the Mind, and he is Wonderful. A lot of character development went a long way w him. He used to be extremely antagonistic towards Tune to the point of an attempted poisoning, however, since Tune shut himself in his room for a depression coma and Amp secluded himself away due to Mental Illness^tm he’s since seen the error of his ways. He leans hard into the morality aspect of Mind, and believes Hearts are important to the function of the Psyche. Two of his closest friends are Hearts, in fact. He uses a regulator/modulator for his voice which cracks horribly. This has led into him building prosthetics and mobility aids for some other people in chat including his best friend, Storm, who is a Mind played by Q-ott. Can’t not mention him, as these two are in a HELL of an unhealthy codependent friendship. Trainwreck level. It’s awful. Anyway. Static also bakes as a hobby, and distributes his baked goods to chat on a regular. He’s great, I love him. Art by @pathos-p ! And bonus, my pfp, which is Static drawn by @agent-8449 (not shown in this post tho)

Now, that’s the only “AU” played solely by me, but I’m in several shared AUs. I’ll list the canonical guys here, and later Bad End and FFA!

Kicking off with the Mind of the Aside AU, The Sound of Deep Waters, the Maestro in Blue, or as some may call him, Wawer. Eldritch god who lives in Europa where he’s built a laboratory to study and observe whatever life-forms sprung up on Earth this go-around of the universe. Hears the Dreamers, who are Us. The creators of the AUs. That’s to say he (and his counterparts) can hear all of the non-canon discussion and chatter (though there are limits.) I’ve taken a bit of a step back from him partially due to mental health but I still love the concept!

Pfp by and Heart played by @agent-8449

AU created and Soul played by @nitroish

Next, not to go from an over the top eldritch god to The Most Boring Man In Existence but actually doing exactly that- meet Robert. It’s Robert. Ignore what William tells you, it is Robert, and nothing else. Much less anything unprofessional like Billybob or Bert. Eughk. Robert’s the Mind of The Stanley Parable AU! Haven’t done much with him, but there’s a running joke he’s a bootlicker because he’s So prim and proper and would do anything for a raise, or even better, a promotion.

Heart of the AU played by Q-ott

Soul of the AU played by @shadywoods

Whole played by and Robert’s pfp done by @disruptivevoib

…

Heehoo. He’s awaiting canon, so I can’t say much of anything about this mf. Only thing I can say is that his name’s Tenor, he’s a Heart, and the pfp was done by the talented @squeak-4657! >:)c

Azzurro’s an interesting one. Mind, displaced. Taking the role of a Soul this loop. He also hasn’t hit chat yet, so there’s not much to say. He’s shared custody between me and Q-ott, Q’s got em this loop. Pfp done by Q, too!

Heart/Mind played by @jesterberries

Soul/Heart played by the mastermind of this AU, @shadywoods !

YIPPEE!!! That’s all for canon! Now onto the OOC chats.

Starting with someone I can’t say much about, but he’s still my scrungly beloved birdboy supreme, Trill! Trill’s a [REDACTED] for the [REDACTED] AU, and he makes bird noises near 24/7 and will go feral over a bowl of sunflower seeds (despite not liking them too much). He’s a silly little guy, if you ignore The Horrors like he does! @squeak-4657 and I share custody for him, sowing havoc and confusion in FFA when we both rped him at the same time haha. :> hroooo!

Next up is Bass, similarly a [REDACTED] for an AU I can’t share. He hasn’t hit chat yet, but he’s an all around chill guy. Me and @starryhologram will be sharing custody of him! Unfortunately I’ve run out of image attachments I can add, but it works out because he’s still p secret. Shhh.

Lastly! Tachycardia. Oh, Tachycardia… He certainly puts the “bad” into the “bad end” timelines. He was once called Static, but he’ll insist you call him Cardia. He’s the once-Mind, now-Heart-but-not-quite of the SELF AU. Twisted beyond recognition due to forces from an unknown Psyche he’s landed himself as well as his best friends, Sisyphus and Midas (similarly twisted versions of Willow and Storm, who belong to Q-ott) in due to a grevious mistake, he’s left stricken in horror as Sisyphus grows chains and shackles, Midas begins freezing everything he touches solid, and Cardia himself? He watched as his blood turns from blue to red. He has to eat and drink to survive when he didn’t before. He goes blind, like a Heart. Eyes changing color between blue and purple. His regulator melds into his neck, becoming half assimilated by frozen, scarred flesh. His voice splits in two, a Mind’s with a Heart’s underlaying it. Hell of a body horror moment. And he’s stuck like this. Falling into Heartlike tendencies despite being a Mind (at least in part. Not fully, anymore.). Falling into apathy. Also, becoming even more unhealthily attached to Midas/Storm and to Willow/Sisyphus.

Heart and Mind of this AU played by Q-ott!

Pfp by @tnovanadir

So yeah! That’s my currently comprehensive full list of Guys across all chats! May y’all enjoy, feel free to ask questions bc I’m always happy to infodump further. :D

[the-journey-was-the-point]

Spare Thoughts

There was a prompt on the Tolkien OC's discord server about last meetings! I've been thinking for a while how Linnéa must have felt when she left Dale, knowing the people there still needed her. Decided this was a good opportunity to get into it!

Summary: After being given the opportunity of her immortal life, Linnéa prepares to leave Dale, knowing she's the town's only apothecary. Featuring Hilda from The Hobbit PJ films! Relationships: Linnéa & the people of Laketown/Dale

"Don't you worry overmuch, dearie. Bard can't begrudge you for leaving an' he knows it."

Hilda spoke as she helped pack away supplies. Linnéa busied herself crushing herbs and making them into big batches of medicine, to last the people of Dale until they found a replacement.

"I remember when you first came to Laketown," Hilda continued, content to ramble on as the seemingly-younger woman silently worked. It was the dynamic one usually found when in the company of the town's only apothecary. "What was it, five years ago? We were a sorry lot then, still are, I suppose. Didn't see why someone so learned would go where folk couldn't even afford to get well, but, we were grateful all the same."

Linnéa distributed the remedies into glass bottles. To these, she attached paper labels which clearly described each bottle's contents, their effects, and what ailments to use them for.

"More so with the Master out of the way," Hilda added a bit more spite at the late Master of Laketown's mention. "You did much for us when it mattered, an' Bard knows it, I promise you that, my dear."

Linnéa set the bottles into a basket before hefting it up a shelf. She paused in her work at Hilda's silence, and turned to see the woman had approached her. This close, Linnéa could see that though Hilda smiled, her eyes were glistening.

Linnéa studied her for another moment, thinking of what to say. "I'm glad to hear it. I was afraid he'd be angry. Him and everyone else."

Not entirely true. Linnéa needed to leave on good terms in case Dinentir decided she return to spy on Dale. Apart from that, she couldn't care less what Bard thought. Anyway, she'd outlive any grudge he'd hold against her.

Hilda shook her head, sincere in her reassurance. "Your roots don't go deep like ours. You've got your whole life ahead of you, far too much to waste here. Why, if I was young like you, I'd surely follow a Dwarf prince on an adventure too!"

Linnéa ignored the part about being young. In truth, she was over a hundred years old, much older than Hilda at this point.

"That all said, here." Hilda waved away her jest and tottered over to a nearby crate. She rummaged through its contents and pulled out a thick scarf. "It's too warm to wear right now but, it'll serve you once the winter comes."

Linnéa examined the gift, reaching out to take it and feel its softness. It was worn from many years of use, but doubtless in its ability to keep its wearer from the cold.

"You've always kept your own company," Hilda continued. "But all the same, it was a pleasure knowing you. Bard said it might be that you won't return. Still, I hope you'll spare us lake-folk a thought every now an' then."

"Thank you, Hilda," Linnéa said with a slight bow. "I will wear this come winter, and think of you all."

Hilda pressed her lips together, tears threatening now to spill from her eyes. She briefly placed her hand on Linnéa's cheek-- a touch that reminded the half-Elf of her own mother from many years ago.

"Well! I'll call on Percy, have him help you load these onto a cart---" Hilda resumed her ramblings, speaking of this and that to do, really more to herself than to anyone. Linnéa looked out the window, gazing at the city of Dale that was being rebuilt. Across the water, Laketown was being rebuilt as well. There was much progress, but also much work to do still.

Summer was kind, but Linnéa knew when the seasons turned, more would fall ill. The people of Dale would have to rely on their Elven allies and neighboring Dwarves for medical aid.

But she couldn't stay and languish away. This was an opportunity to possibly have the chance to leave Middle Earth and by her immortal life, she was taking it.

She packed the scarf into her satchel. Then she gave her former workspace one more sweep before closing the door behind her.

[unperceivable-future]

Narcissus [Chapter 1/?]

Hawks/Keigo Takami x Reader

Content warning: My own take on the Hanahaki Disease. English is not my best language. Foul language. Angst. May not feel like a Reader-insert considering that Reader has a given quirk and other parameters (except for appearances) [I'll be updating the list as I go]

Synopsis: In a world where humans have further evolved into having redundant traits, you are simply trying to survive life while assisting the Winged Hero.

Note: I did not expect comments and got a bit jumpscared lmao 💀 I absolutely have no clue how this story pans out. I'm just here to write a bit of angst and geek out. A part of me does feel bad that the MC has a bit of a character and backstory and not a super blank slate but I also enjoy having a certain dynamic between Hawks and MC. There is a bit of a projection here unfortunately.

0 1...

===============

You bite back a snort when Hawks' eyes widen at the statistics in front of him.

"Oh shit, that's actually quite a lot." He mumbles under his breath as he reads through the financial report.

"Are you...are you sure these are all for me?" He turns to you, baffled at the numbers. 

"Seems like it, they're all your fans." You shrug in amusement.

"Sucks to be popular huh." One of Hawks' veteran sidekicks chimes in.

The last Thursday of the month is often when the revenue comes in. When Hawks' agency is paid for all the hero work Hawks and his sidekicks have pulled through. Next day is when salary is distributed amongst the staff and...

Monday, first Monday of the new month is when a portion of the revenue is put through a charity system that helps people get their surgery to remove any traces of Hanahaki illness that's caused by Hawks' pretty existence.

The system is rather intricate, involving psych doctors that quite literally use their quirks in determining who is the cause of such a flowery mess of a disease to approve such financial aid.

"I told you to not drink your ass off this weekend." You taunt your boss who cradles his head in his palms.

This always happens. Hawks does something big, makes a grand appearance in the public doing cool heroic villain take downs then do a bit of fan service and celebrate the big victory with his office staff and sidekicks on the weekend then get a bit wasted and regret it by Monday morning as his popularity comes biting him back on his ass.

Normally he gets away from financial punches such as these by rapidly taking down villains without a lot of the public spectating him, his sidekicks barraging in the scene for clean up as he moves to the next villain. That also means less people seeing him and getting the idea that wow, this man is GREAT! Let me just fall in love with him real quick!

But as of late, he has been making a lot of appearances as more daring villains show up and take up his time, attracting viewers and all the shebang. Then added by a little bit of misfortune where he gets invited into interviews he could not turn down since...well, they produce revenues and good public image and that money goes to bettering the agency and of course, goes to helping his unfortunate fans that catch feelings like it's the flu in winter seasons.

It is a balance, really, Hawks is a big believer that a hero's presence itself should be able to put citizens at ease but it does come with a price and in this case, a fairly hefty one.

"Pidge?" Hawks calls you out and you can already guess what he's about to ask of you.

"Yes?"

"Two shots of espresso, please."

"Right on it." You turn to his sidekicks who are fighting back their snickers as they look at the PowerPoint presentation of last month's damages caused by your boss' presence.

"You guys want anything while I'm at it?" You ask them, knowing damn well that they are also fighting a hangover from the weekend's shenanigans.

"Water."

"Coffee."

"More alcohol?" Everybody turns their heads to the youngest and newest sidekick.

"Take it from us, kid, more alcohol doesn't actually get rid of hangovers. It just delays the inevitable." Hawks advises, finally lifting his face from his hands.

"I think it's also worth pointing out that you're on the clock...?" You point flabbergasted at the rather ballsy request.

"Okay, wow, geez I guess I'll just have orange juice then. Damn." The newest recruit mumbles sarcastically, his youthful humour finally coming out of his shy shell.

"Good. Now let's discuss about this month's patrol route." Hawks sighs and clicks for the next slide to continue the monthly briefing and you make your way to the cafeteria to grab the heroes' beverages.

Working with Hawks, after proving yourself by sorting out the administrative side of his business and in turn saving his then crumbling sanity, is not actually that bad. He is chill when the day is chill, he keeps his cool even when the day goes wrong and he learned to stop micromanaging everything and learned to trust that his employees will be able to keep up and keep the system up and running. Over the years, he found the perfect momentum along with his team and knows when a mishap is a mishap and when to actually let go of someone because they are ruining the equilibrium.

He always claims that it was all you, that how you helped set up his office and all the admin side of things is what eased his mind. You personally think that he simply matured and let go of his overly-independent personality.

It made an unlikely partnership between the two of you where there is mutual respect but not in a way that you respect Hawks because he is your boss then he treats you with bare minimum kind of respect because you did things for him through beck and call. It was mutual respect where you both actually work in tandem and you get the perks of calling him out when needed and him being able to actually have someone who does not put him up a pedestal and inflate his head, something like a friend even.

"How was patrol?" You ask, munching on your lunch. Hawks and his sidekicks have just come back from their afternoon patrol just in time while you're on your lunch break, his sidekicks heading to the cafeteria to get something to eat.

"It was hot outside." Hawks yawns and stretches his wings. You hum in response when your phone vibrates.

"Who?" He leans curiously when he notices you tapping on your device singlehandedly.

"Some dude I matched with." You respond nonchalantly, typing up a response as to why you were not in a rush in meeting this man you have been chatting with for the past three days.

"Don't you think you're rebounding too quickly?" Hawks asks.

It was an embarrassing ordeal, having gone through a cordial break up with your partner of one year only to call in sick as you sneeze and cough up petals of lilies. The painful realisation that your ex-partner has moved on quicker than you could when they started to discuss about healthily distancing and setting up boundaries in order to salvage some semblance of friendship. Embarrassing and a punch to the ego, you suppose even when they claimed that they occasionally cough up petals that look eerily similar to the first ever flower they have given to you.

"If I drown myself with men, there's nothing deep to feel." You try to make yourself sound poetic which earns you a snort from the winged hero.

"Yeah and you're probably causing these men to throw up flowers because you've been turning down the second dates." He points out.

"They don't know me well enough to cough up anything." You retort, setting your phone down.

Despite the gruesome and useless trait of coughing up flowers whenever you feel some semblance of unrequited love or care (or when the parameters dwindle and become unresolved), it is quite merciful that such illness only manifests when you feel strongly about it. Maybe it is the self-limiting nature of evolution, that no matter how crazy the body can behave it will always loop back to the baseline so that a petty crush does not decimate your lungs. Biology sure does work in mysterious ways but you would like to thank whoever is out there for making the Hanahaki Disease to follow a negative feedback loop rather than a positive one.

You let out a sneeze, covering your nose and mouth when you feel something lodged in your throat. You get up and leave the lounging area in a hurry, Hawks shooting you a concerned look knowing for a fact that you have not yet gotten over your ex.

It happens, people fall in love and when it goes both ways they do not fall sick. Sometimes people start getting sick even when they are in a relationship, a symptom that their union is tilting to its end. Other times when people feel so unhappy about the circumstances of their dynamic with their partner, they cough up petals as if a warning sign that the couple better start sorting themselves out.

Scientists believe that the social nature of humans is what caused such an evolutionary trait, that with a good and stable union leads to good offsprings eventually. This makes sense, really, because better offsprings are produced from compatible parents. You could imagine how much less generational trauma there should be if your parents got along well.

Others believe that someone or something out there is playing matchmaker, theists and those who believe in fate and destiny. But regardless, the truth remains that the illness seems to exist to supposedly benefit the social personality of Homo sapiens. The tribe is stronger in numbers and when there is less conflict, after all.

Though the whole ordeal is a little bit dramatic, you won't lie. It's not like people are stupid enough with their emotions that they need to cough up a whole ass lily just to remind them hey! You got an unsorted out feelings for this person! Get your shit together, dude! But you digress, sighing as you hack out yet another petal of lily---a sore reminder that a cordial break up will always leave lingering and unresolved feelings at first.

[hyenahunt]

Obbligato: The Punishment of Kaname Tojo - 10

Writer: Akira

Season: Spring, two years ago

Characters: Kaname, Tatsumi

Proofreading: Remi (JP) & honeyspades (ENG)

Translation: Peace

Kaname: Will this make you happy, Mom? Will you understand me, Brother?

[Read on my blog for the best viewing experience with Oi~ssu ♪]

Kaname: "I know you Special Students may ask why you should care."

"That's why, as the poster child of you all, I'll demonstrate the benefits of it — no, I'll introduce you to a harsh reality."

"At the moment, our unit has a monopoly on nearly all of the work offered to the idols of Reimei Academy."

"These jobs were originally given only to the group that Tatsumi Kazehaya-senpai created..."

"But when he grew ill and wasn't able to perform, I took on the mantle he left behind."

"I was offered so much work, I wasn't able to do it all myself — and so I distributed it to other Special Students and had it done that way."

Kaname: "How was it, Special Students? Didn't you have fun working as idols?"

"But those jobs didn't count towards you. They were entrusted to the idol Tatsumi Kazehaya-senpai — we were merely acting as his proxies."

"In short, now that he's returned with improved health, there's no need for our involvement."

"I planned to return what was once Tatsumi-senpai's without complaint..."

"On one condition. That he forms a unit with me, as equals, so he won’t do everything on his own."

"From now on, we'll be doing everything that Tatsumi-senpai used to do alone."

"Distributing jobs, selecting suitable members, dividing the income we receive equally among everyone..."

"We'll work together to accomplish all of this together. That way, Tatsumi-senpai's burden is diminished and he remains in good health."

Tatsumi: "Fufu. When faced with such a passionate explanation, I couldn't help but agree. I could tell that HiMERU-san's feelings were sincere."

"He earnestly wished to help, to stake his life on alleviating my burden."

"No, his true wish was for the two of us to become one. He will become part of me, half of me — the way that the Messiah was an extension of God."

Kaname: "Simply being a follower or subordinate wasn't enough. I wouldn't be able to control him even if I were over his head either. In order to make good use of the unprecedented existence that was Tatsumi Kazehaya, I became a part of him."

"I'm managing the 'face' of the Super Idol Tatsumi Kazehaya, which he himself cannot even control."

"Rather, this is the only way that 'troublemaker' could be controlled."

"With that in mind, I made my decision."

Tatsumi: "Troublemaker, am I? Well, I suppose you're right."

"I pushed others around as I saw fit, claiming it was for their happiness. However, the more I forced it on them, the less happy they were."

"I wish to atone for that. I believe this is the only way that I can."

Tatsumi: "I couldn't handle it alone. It is impossible for one person."

"That is why I am adding to 'myself'. While I am only one person in the flesh, I will be giving a part of 'me' to HiMERU-san."

"We, as a colony, will be run like this from now. We will survive."

Kaname: (Ah... My dream, it's come true.)

(I said so, didn't I? I wanted to become you.)

(I wanted to be a brilliant existence, just like you. I wanted to become an idol that could make everyone smile. I wanted to become the precious, irreplaceable light that my mother loved so much.)

(I went to great lengths to make this happen. I even capitalized on the blind trust of the older brother I was so indebted to.)

(That lot in the catacombs called me a traitor for stealing Tatsumi-senpai's fortune away.)

(The Special Students were the same, saying I'd deceived them all for my own gain.)

(But even still, I wanted this.)

Kaname: (Tatsumi Kazehaya, Tatsumi Kazehaya, Tatsumi Kazehaya—)

(I want to become like you. No, I want to be you.)

(Now, everything will go well. Me, who climbed to the top and became the Special Student everyone would look up to, and Tatsumi-senpai, the savior of the Non-Special Students...)

(By joining forces, every student at Reimei Academy is under our control. The disparity that was the root of everyone's unhappiness will soon disappear.)

(From now on, our unit will assume responsibility of every job that comes in for the idols of Reimei Academy.)

(We'll distribute it fairly between Special and Non-Special Students alike.)

(After that, we'll split the profit fairly between them as well.)

(And at last, we'll have manifested a just and fair world, where no one is discriminated against. We’ll create the very utopia that Tatsumi-senpai envisioned.)

Kaname: (There'll be some opposition at first, of course. It'll be difficult to stand side-by-side with one another and think of the other side as a comrade.)

(The Special and Non-Special Students hate each other far too much not to fuss.)

(But that's why we're going to change the system, even if we have to do it by force. We'll get rid of the differences between the two of them and erase the line previously drawn.)

(From here on... We will control all of the idol work that comes into Reimei Academy. If you won't become one of 'us', then you can't be an idol.)

Kaname: ("We" are the only ones who can be idols.)

(That's why everyone'll have to become part of 'us' if they want to keep their heads above water after this.)

(And once they become one of 'us,' there won't be exceptions to the rules. You're treated equally, whether you're a Special Student or not. Even if you hate it.)

(The disparity will disappear. While the Special Students will remain such in name, we'll be the ones who manage the students on behalf of the school.)

(An ideal system.)

(Eventually, we'll expand our sphere of influence — and take control of the whole idol industry. That way, we'll create an ideal world where everyone can be happy.)

(As everything in the industry falls to ruin, we'll live on together just like that.)

(The road to that world is a long and hard one, but...)

(There is hope. Tatsumi Kazehaya is our compass.)

(He really is amazing. He's a true idol — unlike me.)

(Unlike me, who's experienced only with mistakes.)

(Everyone's sure to be happy with someone like him at the helm. He'll never abandon me either, even if I'm utterly useless, and let me live as an idol.)

(That's how I'll become an idol.)

Kaname: (Will this make you happy, Mom?)

(Will you understand me, Brother?)

[ ☆ ]

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[kozykricket]

big minecraft & terraria thoughtdump

just gonna say, exploration/basing/traversal/whatever in minecraft is a complex topic, because of how many differing views there are on how much travel should even be necessary and its really freakin hard to think about in an INFINITE WORLD as well. big random thought dump time

like i think terraria does the gameplay of exploration better than minecraft ever has or will do it, and thats fine its just because of what terrarias designed after

ah right i have an idea for a post on me having maybe possibly figured out why i like when terraria makes me go on sidequests to biomes vs i dont like when mc does that (its probably mostly bc i view terraria as an exploration game, and also most of the rewards are just relevant to the core gameplay loop, and. well. its a careful balance. locking some qol behind certain things is cool, but sometimes its too much. either way i know vanilla terraria does it greatly) anyways, i think minecrafts in a weird spot but . i do think more unique ore, animal, and hostile mob distribution in biomes... would help increase the desire for players to do stuff outside of just their home base. to actually have more wildly different biomes with outposts at them especially if like, crops grew faster or animals had shorter breeding cooldowns in the "right" biomes but the issue there is like. god i dont care how nice it can be to make paths, i am NOT making infrastructure to anywhere further than like 300 blocks away from my general base area. that'd just get a bit frustrating but also minecrafts kinda. for that? its made for that? idk i also feel like i have a lot i could say on When Tedium is Good vs When Its Bad in games i play a lotta tedious games but theyre like, enjoyable tedium . then theres adding qol to reduce that Fun Tedium is kinda... saddening (calamity m od reference) but adding qol to reduce tedium that really isnt interesting gameplay to anyone is like, yea thats good so i think qol is a careful thing to balance but i think mc needs more qol tbhh. stuff like how we got editing signs in 1.20

um. what else... i just think like. minecraft exploration is weird because ill see something really cool thats far away and itll be like "woah! thats so cool (imagines building something awesome there) well anyways. never gonna come back here" and sometimes the world can get kinda repetitive to the point you just Run Through it. not really any small interesting things to grab along a journey. its gotta either be a significant structure you end up finding (which can end up being either a giant big side adventure which is cool but. i might not wanna commit to that. or its just a desert temple aka a 1 minute excursion where like, why did i even have to do any of this) i think terraria underground exploration nails it with more stuff than just ores, like life crystals and simple cabins with loot. they feel nice to find but then again. i dont wanna ALSO overanalyze whyi love terraria. ive already done that for minecraft and its both a blessing and a curse ill just say i love npc happiness, i love exploration, i love everything terraria has. except master mode and i love many things in minecraft, but i will always be a birdnester. i want to bring everything home with me. even though i think the game should prooobably design around reducing birdnesting just because like, the modern game is Definitely designed around exploration clearly ...i could make a whole post on the differences of the Vibes and Goals of modern mc vs old mc kinda tempted to wonder how many things id change about modern mc to keep all of its features but make it feel like old mc in a way. like, okay, i'd make stuff like frogs and sniffers far less animated. id make things in general feel less intentionally designed.. this post is long. im just gonna stop it here

[hollowfaith]

🙄

Nonverbal RP Starters | 🙄 Roll their eyes at my muse

At the silent but scornful action, Aurelius laughs and sets down his pen, surveying Kratos from behind his desk.

"If you're ill, shouldn't you be at the pharmacy?"

"Or have you decided to seek treatment with us instead?"

Sanctus Clinic, third floor.

Taking advantage of the open window, Kratos had let himself in—much as Aurelius did on a regular day—and was now staring the angel down across the table.

"It's telling that you assume I'm sick as soon as you see me," Kratos retorts.

"Can't I now? What manner of sane decision-making would make you end up in my office?" Aurelius pauses to check his clock on the wall. "Unannounced, even. I have an appointment in 15 minutes, speak your piece or begone."

Biting back the urge to question whether the angel even had a license, Kratos takes a bottle from his pocket instead and sets it on the desk.

"A gift for me?" Aurelius raises his eyebrows. "Perhaps we really should schedule you in."

"It could be poison."

"That isn't your style."

Silence stretches on between them. At last, the angel takes the bottle, unscrews the cap, and takes an experimental sniff of the contents.

"May I add that contraband is also prohibited on premises?" Aurelius remarks.

"It's your half of the work," Kratos says bluntly. He crosses his arms and looks out the window, ignoring the angel's growing smile. "Baizhu mentioned you did him a favor last time. This is the brew he made with those flowers—it's a calming draught."

Aurelius carefully recaps the bottle and sets it aside. "I see. I don't really need this, though?" And it wasn't like he could just distribute it to the staff or patients—one bottle was too small.

"You should accept payment for favors owed," Kratos replies simply. "Now the debt is cleared."

"It's a little modest as far as payments go."

"Only if you can't see the worth of the ingredients that went into it."

Aurelius makes a little noise through his nose. “Then I should ask the good doctor to explain them for me sometime.”

“No need,” Kratos rejects him smoothly. “…it’s a secret recipe.”

“You’re awfully talkative today.” The blond observes the redhead and leans forward in his seat, hands clasped on the table surface. “All pleasantries aside, I don’t think I ever mentioned taking this little bottle in.”

Kratos narrows his eyes but ignores the first comment. “So you’re going to be rude about it?”

“There are better ways to repay a debt, Mr. Aurion.”

“As there are better ways to seek my friendship, Aurelius Vane-Tempest.”

Aurelius straightens up, his expression all business. “If it's going to be this troublesome every time, I think I shouldn't bother."

That was enough—they'd gotten to the root of the matter. In the end Kratos flies away while the bottle remains, but Aurelius can't help pulling out his phone to send Klaus one single, pouty text:

[txt] I tried today. : (

[lycianlynx]

"Why do you look troubled?"

It's neither a question of concern or curiosity. She has ever been attuned to the world in ways she does not always entirely understand, and the electric energy this stray radiates in waves is that of a cornered alley cat clearly agitated. Knowing she may well be asking to be batted away or brushed aside or both, Sara nevertheless approaches with an offer of assistance.

"Could there be something or someone you are searching for?" she implores, standing at a respectable distance so as to avoid scaring them off this time. Sophia was a likely candidate taking their connection into account, though she could not confirm this and she herself had not seen her counterpart since candy had been distributed to the players. Perhaps Sara too catches glimpses of a friend in them just as they had her. A boy with intense brown eyes in need of her help, lost and at a loss.

Save for some barely-visible speckles of rapidly-cooled-to-black, it's almost as if nothing happened; The sharp glint in their eyes customary, the slant of their brow easily misattributed to the night wearing on a spirit ill-suited to crowds and boisterous celebration, their habit of keeping alone and to the shadows ever-enduring.

That, and to a stranger's eye, they always look troubled by one thing or another. It's easy to guard equally perpetual worry by proclaiming that this is just their face, because it sort of is, that it's none of her business; But even that response crumbles to nothing in a fleeting glimpse of the shade of another, reprised.

It feels like a cruel, cosmic joke. He tries not to flinch.

("Maybe next time I see her, I'll do the Angels a favor and leave more than just a mark.")

He does anyways.

And it's his own damn fault. An apologetic wince as they straighten up and squint. A breath is sucked in through their teeth, released slowly, thumb rubbing hard at the knuckle of their index finger, before digging the painted nail in.

("—she'd tried to heal me—")

"I—" No. They choke the sentence out and start again. "She's her own person."

They set that thought down in their mind, let it ground them as their nail threatens to draw blood. It's not a real answer, but it's all the answer they can muster. It's a bitter pill. It runs counter to their bearing the blood on their hands, the perpetual shade of fear that hangs above, quivering for all that is dear to them.

"... But some freak threatened Sophia to my face." They concede to Sara. She approached in sincerity, and ever-earnest, they owe it to her in kind, a closed-eye show of trust. "I want to make sure she's okay."

[bookishfeylin]

Hii bookish! There's scene where feyre saw children's books from tamlin's study anf she thought it might be from his childhood or probably for alis' nephews. Though we never saw them discussing about it. Can I request that you'll write a prompt about this? Take your time and take care!!

Nonny you asked this like MONTHS ago and I'm so sorry this got away from me. I love receiving prompts so feel free to send another as I get back into writing lol but at any rate here is the longggggggg awaited prompt!

~~~

Feyre let her fingers linger on each book she passed in Tamlin’s study, slowing as she entered a familiar aisle. A smile teased her lips as she crouched down, looking for the book she knew she’d left here yesterday. Learning to read hasn’t been easy, but… she was coming along. Slowly but surely.

After several minutes of searching, Feyre finally found the text she was looking for—a book called The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe that Tamlin told her was a story his mother had read with him every night as a child—and, eager to resume reading, she grabbed the book and looked for her favorite corner of the study.

It was crazy, Feyre supposed, just how quickly she’d come to make Rosehall home. But she’d only just settled down in a plush armchair and cocooned herself in a blanket when she was interrupted by the sound of heavy bootsteps coming her way.

Realizing who it was—only a certain High Lord's footfalls sounded that heavy—Feyre rolled her eyes and returned to her book, deciding to let him come to her.

And come to her Tamlin did, rounding the corner in front of Feyre with crossed arms and a raised brow. “Where have you been all day?”

Feyre gestured around the study. “Here. Reading. Since you decided to neglect me I had to entertain myself.”

“Neglect you?” Tamlin said, stepping closer with a playful grin.

“You left me all by myself—”

“I literally begged you to come join the meeting and not force me to get through that without your company, love—”

“And now you cut me off,” Feyre pouted, crossing her arms and turning away from him.

Laughing, Tamlin stepped closer, attempting to take her into his arms even as she pulled away. “Feyre…”

Feyre refused to meet his eyes, feigning anger over the oh-so-horrible slight of his having to run a government, but eventually allowed him to encircle his arms around her and pick her up. Feyre continued looking away from him, refusing to meet his gaze, until he kissed her over and over between quiet, half-hearted apologies.

Then: “Never leave me alone again.”

Tamlin chuckled again, holding Feyre as he slowly began to walk away from her armchair and back towards the study's entrance. “I’ll do my best, love, but you could make it easier by not hiding in the furthest corner of the children's section of my study.”

“You could make it easier for me by simply not having a children's section and distributing these books throughout the study instead of confining them to some corner. Perhaps you could organize your books by subject rather than age?”

“Hmm. No.”

Feyre let out a small laugh before leaning into the crook of Tamlin's shoulder as he carried her out of the study, and ignored the stares from servants wondering why their High Lord was carrying around his lover yet again when she was neither ill nor injured.

It wasn’t until they’d reached their bedroom, though, that Feyre had truly thought over Tamlin's response, and after putting her book down on the bed she turned to him with a frown. “Why do you have a children's section in your library, Tamlin? They’re convenient for me to learn to read with, but I’m certain you don’t exactly need them.”

“Nostalgia,” he mumbled, slowly unwinding her from her blanket. “My mother read those to me when I was a child, and I suppose I’d hoped that one day… one day I could do the same to any children I had.”

“We'll have,” Feyre corrected, leaning forward to pull him into her lap. “One day.”

“One day far from now,” Tamlin finished, capturing her lips as he lowered her down to the bed.

One day far from now. It was a vow, and a hope, and a promise of their future together, a future Feyre hadn’t even let herself consider Under the Mountain. One day they’d start a family. And the study, Feyre was certain, was going to need many, many more children's books when they did.

[sagesilentfire]

I've finally decided what I want to do with Stjärna. She's a dragon inspired by my childhood of singing in the Lucia choir at my local Swedish institute, connecting with my culture. The problem I've had with her, though, is that she just doesn't quite fit into the Wings of Fire universe. Sankta Lucia was a martyr, who because of her faith distributed her wealth to the poor, and died a martyr's death. IceWings wouldn't care about one of their dragons worshipping some weird god (and neither do I, quite frankly). And I don't want to bring a religion I no longer belong to and disagree with more and more into my dragon story. But... perhaps they would care about a dragon squandering their wealth and power for the poor... especially a certain power that IceWings are known for.

So. Legend tells that Lady Stjärna was born in poverty only around five hundred years after the Scorching, among circle-less IceWings who did not care much for titles. They did not have the greatest seal holes or hunting spots, but they were her family, and she wanted more for them. But she was thrust into more for herself and only herself when, at three years old, she discovered she was an animus. News of it spread to the royal IceWings quickly, because she was three, and she loudly asked her parents why they never told her you could make seal bones play music, in public. Animus power was still new to the IceWings, and they were making an effort to consolidate it all in the royal family. So they snatched her away from her parents and life and betrothed her to a First Circle prince whose mother had been an animus. And they taught her etiquette and manners and told her to start thinking about what she wanted to make during her gift ceremony on her seventh hatching day.

They never asked her how she felt about all this.

Because she did not feel good. She didn't like Felsenmeer, her fiancé, she didn't like anyone in the palace, she didn't like the circles, and she didn't like her etiquette lessons or her new hard, ill-fitting jewelry or the way everyone treated her like a delicate piece of glass that would shatter if they didn't bow and scrape hard enough. Maybe her life was easier now, maybe she didn't have to worry about where her next meal would come from, but... at least she had people she liked, back home. She wanted to do something good for them, too. 

So when it came time to make her animus gift, she ignored the suggestion about making a mirror that predicted the weather, and instead made the "Gift of subsistence." A trio of pools in the poorest outskirts of the kingdom that would always give a seal to whoever wanted them. The circled IceWings in the palace would never even consider catching such easy prey, but no poor IceWing would ever have to worry about food again. 

No circled IceWing liked it. But it was her gift, and Stjärna was fine with whatever consequences faced her. And she had worded her spell well: not even her animus mother-in-law could remove her gift. But Flaught did not want to let her useless, imperious little daughter-in-law go. If this went on, Stjärna would raise rebellious children, and Ice Dragon forbid they became animus dragons too. So she waited until Stjärna laid two eggs, and then had her killed so those eggs would not be corrupted by her.

But legend is firm on the fact that that was not the end of Lady Stjärna. Her spirit remained, and legend says that on the night her daughters were supposed to hatch, they disappeared from the hatchery. Different storytellers disagree on whether her eggs were animus dragons or not, but everyone knows that when Flaught tried to cordon off the pools Stjärna had created, Stjärna and her daughters appeared at all three pools and destroyed the barriers, ensuring food would always be available for dragons who needed it. 

Legend says she and her daughters, Overwinter and Torpor, still guard those lakes, and ensure that they will never be destroyed. There will always be food for those who need it.