#looking at this makes me feel like I did huge progress over the years and I was gradually just getting better

[mackenziehowler]

A small summary of my art throughout the years, a single important piece from each year!

06.01.2024 - Discovering much more minimalistic style. Crazy how everything changed over time

06.03.2023 - much more loose style with no perfect lineart

21.03.2022 - first piece in clip studio paint and a first take on a bit more painterly style. Important development even tho it went nowhere for a long time.

12.12.2021 - First Major Success with anthro character

13.11.2020 - First Major Success, I got through several different pieces to get to this one.

28.04.2019 - I discovered vector lines in pohotoshop

20.04.2018 - my first digital drawing and the beginning of this great journey...

[onsomenewsht]

Helpless to the bass and faded light

About when she bribes you and you dance with her like a filled stadium isn't looking

》 Leah Williamson x Reader

》 words count: +1k

》 she took my arm / I don't know how it happened / we took the floor and she said

You don’t like football.

It’s quite a boring game if you stop to think about it for a moment. Two dozen and counting people running around a ball trying to kick it into a huge net.

Not something you look forward to sit through for almost two hours.

Despite your father’s best efforts, you being his only kid and his only hope to pass down his passion, the sport never managed to interest you long enough to care.

You even found yourself in the stands of your dad’s favourite club’s home more times than you’re able to remember, going beyond yourself and cheering when the other people around you did.

The things you do to make your parents proud.

How you managed to have the English captain wrapped around your finger, regardless of your well-known dislike for her biggest passion and purpose in life, is still a mystery for your families and friends.

“Pretty please, just this one”

“Oh, shut up!”, you hit her arm and push her off you, both still naked.

You can’t believe your girlfriend is actually trying to bribe you with sex, not even waiting for you to fully recover before asking to go to the game.

“No, you ruined the mood”, you state as the blonde tries to kiss you again.

The huge grin of her beautiful face is quite dangerous, she can win you over so easily and you both know it.

Leah rises off the bed to retrieve a warm cloth from the bathroom and a clean shirt from the closet. You accept her attention, she’s always caring when it comes to you, but you’re pretty sure the extra effort has a not-so-subtle second purpose.

“You can’t buy me so easily, Williamson”

She can.

“It’s a really important game, my love”

“For who?”

“For me?”, she tries as she slots herself under your open arm, a grin hidden between your neck and the pillow.

“I barely bear you playing”

“You love watching me play”

“I love you, period”

Leah knows how much you think the sport is boring, going way out of your comfort zone just to cheer her. She feels immensely supported when she finds your big smile in the stands, wrapped in one of her jerseys.

It’s not that difficult for you to sit and admire your girlfriend in her element, focusing more on her movements and attitude than paying attention to the actual game.

What you find quite annoying is enduring Arsenal’s men’s team.

The defender’s fingers on your side are slowly soothing you in a compromising position, too relaxed and smitten to keep denying her anything. You know she doesn’t need much more to lure you into her trap and, unfortunately for you, she’s perfectly aware too.

When the blonde’s lips find the particularly sensitive spot on the base of your neck, you’re doomed.

~

You’re glad your father is already dead or you’d have killed him as you take your seat in the Emirates Stadium, surrounded by the Gunners’ colours. Your girlfriend’s name on your back could be the final nail.

The things you do to make your lover happy.

“You know I love you, right?”

“You better never forget this”, you quip back.

The English captain has been looking forward to this game for weeks now, you couldn’t have been able to turn her down in spite of it all.

She doesn’t need to know though, you didn’t accept to spend one of your date nights watching the North West London derby for free.

“Maybe you will enjoy it at the end”

Nice try, you will not.

“You know, my dad was a West Ham supporter”

“Could have been worse”, she smiles at you, reaching for your hand.

Talking about your father is getting easier as time finally moves forward and your grief keeps changing its shape. Compared to the abyssal black hole it felt like the first year and a half, its progress.

Leah didn’t meet him, crushing in your life a couple of months after his passing, but she managed to find a space in your heart that keeps growing despite all your fears.

They could have hit so well, bonding over their shared passion for the sport and their never-ending determination to make you happy.

You told her some stories about him, mostly memories to make your girlfriend understand how stubborn and passionate he was about the thing he cared about.

The one thing you all have in common.

“Yeah, he used to gift me a West Ham jersey every year on Bobby Moore’s birthday”

Leah’s laugh managed to overcome the buzzing atmosphere of the stadium, making you feel like she was the reason all the people around you were cheering. You sure think so.

“He sounds like an incredible father”

“Football obsession aside, he was good”

When you turn to look at her, the blonde’s eyes are already on you and the smile on her face is enough to warm your heart.

~

The first goal coming within five minutes has you quite engaged in what’s happening on the pitch, you even drag your girlfriend in a kiss as you both rise from your seats to celebrate.

Your commitment declined quite easily after that, more entertained by Leah’s reactions than the actual game. You nod in amusement every time she tries to talk you through one of her analyses, placing a hand on her thigh to stop her from standing up every time the ball is somehow close to the box.

The second half is more eventual, at least that’s what you can understand by the excitement the defender and the people in the stands around you seem to radiate.

You’re not clueless, you’re perfectly aware a five-nil win against Chelsea is quite the result. You care enough to think you can’t wait to go home - Leah is always in the mood for a private celebration when her team triumphs, especially over another London club.

“Can we go now?”, you ask as soon as the referee whistles three times, declaring the end of your and the Blues’ torture.

Leah’s happiness is contagious, so you’re not mad when she drags you in her arms to join her cheers and enthusiastic dance. It takes you less than a second to indulge her, letting the blonde spin you around and matching her excitement.

When she dips you and seals the move with a kiss the laugh that rises out of you is genuine and loud.

At first, neither of you notice the stadium’s camera pointed in your direction, recording your little moment of pure bliss in each other’s arms.

Looking back at it, as all your friends sent you the viral video, you know Leah saw you two on the big screen and went along with her little cocky display of affection and excitement for the victory.

You’re sure your father could be laughing at it too, despite the colors you’re wearing.

fine.

[akirathedramaqueen]

The bias is not always conscious

And that's the case with Stolas. That's it, that's basically the post, so you can count it as your tl;dr, but let me elaborate. :)

(A little gratitude note! Sorry @tealvenetianmask, I failed being concise here, but I thank you for encouraging me to put it all together :3 I also thank you for our conversations about Stolas and about museums in particular which heavily contributed to it)

I think there's some misunderstanding when people get offended by the suggestion that Stolas acts classist/racist. It seems that people assume we’re implying he is malicious and intentional with it, but the actual problem is that he doesn't think.

S2EP2, Seeing Stars, 1:29

The problematic behavior we're discussing is reflexive and internalized. Stolas was raised in an environment where the lower demon class is looked down upon, and while he believes he expresses nothing but deep respect for Blitzø and treats him as an equal…

Goodnight, Blitzø. S1EP7, Ozzie's, 14:50

And while you can see from this bow that this intention is sincere, which is both wonderful and fascinating—he preserved this profound gesture ever since he was a kid, despite being actively discouraged from doing so!...

[Stolas]: I'm Stolas! It's nice... Ouch! [Paimon]: Don't bow to that one! He bows to us! Idiot! S2EP1, The Circus, 7:40

He was still raised in privilege and influenced by the narratives around him. For him, it's acceptable because that's what he was taught is fine. It's part of his everyday speech, and he never actually asks Blitzø, or anyone else, how they feel about the literally belittling nicknames (like literally—do you notice how often he uses the word "little" when referring to imps?).

I mean... there's a lot, okay? I'm just going to pull out some examples off the top of my head. All of them are from Season 1, and I'll explain why later.

I was hoping you brave little imps would accompany us! S1EP2, Loo Loo Land, 5:15

Ugh, that's better... Where's Blitzy? He's my knight in shining armor, not you, littler ones! S1EP2, Loo Loo Land, 13:22

And it [grimoire] isn't supposed to be lent out to itty-bitty imps like yourself. S1EP5, The Harvest Moon Festival, 0:30

Greetings, tiny Wrath Ring imps! S1EP5, The Harvest Moon Festival, 8:22

[Stolas, in the background]: Who dares threaten my little impish plaything? S1EP6, Truth Seekers, 18:20

How the fuck did you get caught by humans? Are you little creatures not being careful up here? S1EP6, Truth Seekers, 19:38

He also takes pride in being part of Ars Goetia. That pride seeps into his mind whether he wants it to or not. He lives in a huge palace, never worries about money, can arrange a seat in a club that’s always booked out, and gets admitted to a hospital immediately, while hellhounds wait five years for a Hellbies shot.

Being part of the Goetia family is rather valuable, you know. S1EP2, Loo Loo Land, 4:39

Most of these examples come from Season 1 because, after the disastrous Ozzie’s date, Stolas begins to unconsciously cut back on this language. He seems to sense that something is wrong, though he doesn’t fully understand why. However, he is acutely aware of the problems with the transaction and the unfair dynamics it creates, and he is serious about putting Blitzø on equal ground by providing him with the means to run his business independently of Stolas.

And still, he maintains full control over the conversation during the Full Moon meeting, immediately dismisses Blitzø after one mistake, and throws him out. He continues to impose his narrative on Blitzø and…

I don't look down on you! How many times do I— When have I ever?! S2EP9, Apology Tour, 2:45

When have you ever indeed, Stolas? You literally look down on Blitzø saying that. This moment illustrates the problem clearly. He isn’t lying when he says he doesn’t look down on Blitzø because he genuinely believes he doesn’t.

Despite all said, Stolas is making a tremendous effort and is progressing, and he is far ahead of Stella, who is openly classist/racist and very conscious of her biases. So I believe—no, I know—he will get there one day. But not today.

This is something I take quite seriously, and I think people need to understand how dangerous this subtlety can be, as it happens all the time in real life too.

How often do you ask yourself why medical research groups are predominantly represented by white, cis, upper-middle-class males, and how this affects the efficiency of treatments suggested in these studies for everyone else—women, people of color, non-binary folks, and those who struggle financially?

How often do you visit museums and see art created by wealthy aristocrats who defined what constitutes 'fine art,' while 'folk art'—often created by marginalized communities—is overlooked and lost to time?

I could elaborate further on how deep and cruel this bias is, but I’ll stop here. I just ask you to consider why you might get offended when someone points out Stolas's subtle bigotry and why you might downplay it compared to the loud, aggressive Blitzø, whose anger and avoidant issues are obvious.

Just sit with it.

[rxmqnova]

It's okay

Y/N: 5 years old ——————————————————

NO ONE'S POV "Look who's home" Natasha smiles, pointing at Wanda with her finger which makes Y/N turn around, a huge smile forming on her face when she sees who's standing behind her.

"Hi, how have you two been?" Wanda asks with a warm smile, kneeling to Y/N and opening her arms for a hug which Y/N accepts and wraps her arms around her mommy. "Good?" Y/N only nods her head, her smile never leaving her face.

Somehow Wanda and Natasha haven't got Y/N to talk. They've heard a few words from her, but Y/N still hasn't gotten used to her new life just yet.

Unfortunately, the tiny one used to be punished for everything her biological parents didn't like, even talking as she had it forbidden.

Wanda and Natasha are slowly trying to make some progress and show the little one it's completely okay to talk and do everything children do.

"Yeah? Did you have fun with Natty?" Wanda asks, receiving another smile and a nod of a head from Y/N. "Can I join you two?"

"Mhm" Y/N nods, making Wanda smile and kiss the little one's cheek which makes Y/N giggle a little bit.

Natasha smiles at the sight, moving closer to the pair and greeting Wanda with a kiss before they all get into playing.

After a while of playing the three get hungry as it's getting closer to dinner time. While Wanda goes to prepare something for dinner, Natasha keeps Y/N occupied in case some of the Avengers would also come to have dinner. The tiny one still isn't really comfortable around anyone else beside Wanda or Natasha.

"What would you say on a movie night, детка? Just you, me and Wanda?" Natasha smiles, booping Y/N's nose on which Y/N giggles, nodding her head eagerly. (baby)

Once the three girls eat their dinner, Y/N takes her plate, carrying it to the sink like she was taught by her biological parents. Although she stumbles over, accidentally dropping the plate on which it shatters into a million pieces.

Y/N looks at Wanda with horror in her eyes, scared she'll get punished again. Deep down she knows Wanda and Natasha would never hurt her, though she can't help it and just thinks what if they'll do...

Tears fill Y/N's eyes at the thought of being punished again. She sits down, pushing her head into her knees and covering her head with her arms, her little body shaking, the sight breaking both women's hearts.

Wanda doesn't waste a moment, immediately kneeling down to her little girl, feeling her fear due to her powers.

"Y/N/N, sweetheart, it's okay. No one's mad at you" Wanda says softly, not wanting to scare the tiny one even more while Natasha slowly kneels next to Wanda, wanting to help somehow. "Y/N/N, can you look at me please?" She asks carefully.

Y/N slowly lifts her head a little bit, looking at Wanda with her red puffy eyes, getting met with a soft smile. Natasha watches the interaction, deciding to let Wanda comfort their daughter as she's already working on it.

"Yeah, there are those pretty eyes. We aren't mad, bubs. It was an accident and accidents happen. We would never get mad at you for it. Yeah?... Can I give you a hug?" Wanda asks carefully, opening her arms for the tiny one who hesitates for a few seconds, but then slowly moves closer to Wanda, wrapping her little arms around her and burying her face into Wanda's neck, still crying.

"Y/N's a bad girl" Y/N hiccups, remembering what her father always used to say when something like this happened.

"Y/N's not a bad girl, honey. You're the nicest little girl Natty and I have ever met" Wanda tells the tiny girl, rubbing her back and pressing kisses to the side of her head as an attempt to calm her down.

"Wanda's right, детка. It just happens that something breaks. We would never get mad at you for it and we would never ever hurt you" Natasha adds, gently placing her hand on her daughter's back and giving it a rub. (baby)

The three stay like this for a while, just hugging the little girl and pressing kisses to her head until she finally calms down.

"How about you two go get ready for the movie night and I'll grab some snacks and join you. Yeah?" Wanda smiles, wiping Y/N's tears away with her thumb.

"But I have to clean that up, mommy" Y/N mumbles out, pointing at the broken plate, Wanda and Natasha's hearts melting on the new name and smiles forming on their faces.

They don't mind when Y/N calls them by names. Of course they've wished Y/N would see them as parents and call them that. Though they assured her she can call them whatever she's comfortable with when Y/N's asked once. So Y/N calling Wanda 'mommy' is a huge step for all three.

"There's no need to, baby. You don't have to clean up anything" Wanda assures, tucking a strand of hair behind Y/N's ear before handing her to Natasha.

"We're gonna choose a movie together. Does that sound good?" Natasha smiles when Y/N rests her head on her shoulder and nods in response.

Natasha carries her daughter to her and Wanda's shared bedroom, sitting Y/N on the bed and walking over to the closet to pick out a pair of clean pajamas for the little monkey.

"Which one?" Natasha asks with a soft smile, giving her daughter a choice.

Y/N points with her finger at the one she likes more, so Natasha nods, putting the other one back into the closet before walking back to Y/N.

Natasha helps her little girl change before quickly changing herself and getting into bed next to Y/N.

"What movie would you like to watch, sweetheart?" The redhead asks, running her fingers through Y/N's hair and hoping to get an answer.

Y/N opens her mouth to tell her mama her movie choice, but then suddenly closes her mouth again and stays quiet.

"You can tell me, bubs. You can tell us anything at any time. We love you so much and we would never be angry at you for talking, sweetheart" Natasha assures her tiny one, adding a warm smile.

"... Promise, mama?" Y/N asks quietly, looking down at her knees and playing with the fabric of her pajamas.

"I promise, Y/N/N" Natasha presses a kiss to the little girl's forehead, booping her nose after doing so, making Y/N smile as she giggles cutely.

"What's going on here?" Wanda asks with a smile after hearing Y/N's giggles, stepping into the bedroom and bringing a smile to both of her loved ones faces. "Have you two chosen the movie?" She questions, joining the two in bed and cuddling to both.

"Not yet. We were just about to choose one, right детка?" Natasha smiles, playfully poking Y/N's tummy and earning a squeal from her daughter. (baby)

"Can we watch Frozen please? I really like that one" Y/N mumbles out shyly, receiving soft smiles from her mothers who are more than happy that their daughter wasn't scared to tell them.

"Of course, sweetheart. Anything you'd like"

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

WandaNat masterlist

Masterlist

[lynnsenpai]

My ten year anniversary of beating cancer

On October 2nd 2014, I - a trans woman - was diagnosed with testicular cancer. I wanna talk about that a little today. (((Probably obvious trigger warnings, but I'm going to talk about cancer, mortality, and transphobia.)))

It was a crazy time, because that morning, I was just going in for my yearly physical with my doctor. I planned to talk to her about taking steps towards bottom surgery that day, and then I was just excited to get home and count down the hours until Smash Bros for 3DS would release the very next day. But the appointment went an unexpected direction during the physical.

I'd always been told by doctors my whole life to check for lumps, and as much as I hated that part of my body, I did as I was told. So when I never found lumps, I assumed that meant I was okay. Then my doctor told me one of them felt oddly hard. She left the room for some time (I assume to check some things) and when she returned, she explained she had some concerns and was sending to another specialist to confirm some things. She said she felt very sure it was a sign of testicular cancer, though.

At the time, my brain wasn't ready to hear that. My doctor was visibly shaken. My spouse was on the verge of tears. And I was deep in denial like, "but I mean there's a chance it might not be, right? So I'm not going to sweat it." In hindsight, I'm sure I was frustrating to listen to for not taking it seriously. But it wasn't like I was trying to be obstinate, I just was that strongly in disbelief. I didn't feel sick. I wasn't in any pain. Things were going well; this couldn't possibly be happening now.

And yet, a few days later, I saw the specialist, and it was confirmed. I had cancer. Any optimistic doubts I had, shot down in an instant. The specialist wanted to take care of this as fast as he could, so I was scheduled for surgery at the end of the month, and he gave me a stack of prescriptions for various tests I would go to - basically one a day - for the next few weeks.

I had lots of blood drawn. I had x-rays done. I had CT scans. I had an incredibly awkward, uncomfortable ultrasound. And at each appointment, I was seeing some new doctor, nurse, technician, or otherwise professional who probably looked at my chart and, despite my legally changed name and gender marker by that point, saw that the person in front of them had testicular cancer. “And such a person could only be a man.”

I feel like it must sound so petty to be worried about pronouns when you're dealing with something like cancer. But I want to stress that I was nearly a year in presenting full time as myself by that point. I hadn't been called a man in a very long time. And up until earlier that very month, I was on cloud nine and ready to take the next step in my transition. This whole ordeal, on top of being horrendously scary, also took huge strides in regressing all the progress I'd made with confidence and self-love over the previous two years.

And it got worse too. Insurance refused to cover the surgery because I changed the gender marker. Because "why would a woman need to get surgery to remove a testicle. That's just silly!" And there was no convincing them otherwise. Insult to injury, I had to change that gender marker back to an M in their system so that they would approve this surgery. It was a surprisingly easy change to make happen too (which was technically beneficial for the surgery, but also sucked in its own way).

Oh, and then I had to go off all my HRT meds in preparation to reduce the risk of blood clots during surgery. I never felt lower.

All the while, I had plenty of time to think about my mortality. I was only 30. What about my spouse who I love more than anything and might be leaving alone forever? What about my ongoing webcomic, my work of passion which at the time was only nearing about the halfway point, and was at risk of being left unfinished forever? And what about my own future that not so long ago felt so bright?

It would not be an understatement to call October 2014 one of the darkest, heaviest, scariest periods of my life. But not in that good fun "Halloweeny" way.

But the big day came. On October 28th - ten years ago today - I went in for surgery for the first time. I was in the OR for maybe an hour, and the cancerous testicle was removed. As suddenly as it started, it was over.

Recovery was a long and painful (without dragging out the story longer than it already is, the surgical site got infected, so healing probably ended up taking longer than it should have). But the good news, all things considered, was that they successfully removed it, and I wouldn't even need chemo because it was caught so early.

There's technically more to the story. I would later see an oncologist who encouraged a second surgery, to remove the other testicle, as well as lymph nodes around the kidneys, all as a preventative measure to make sure it didn't come back or spread. I didn't love this idea, but she seemed confident that this was the right choice, so I went along with it. And just four months after the first surgery, I went and did it all again. (This time went much more smoothly, but was a much bigger incision, and was still a very long recovery.)

The whole thing, start to finish - including recovery time - was only about 7 months long. I would go for regular oncology visits and testing and blood draws along the way for years to come, but it never showed up again.

In 2016, I finally got back on track for bottom surgery, and then had it done later that same year. My gender marker is back to being an F (where it should be) on everything. I also have two wicked cool scars to show that I conquered cancer.

Unfortunately, I don't think I ever fully mentally recovered from the emotional stress of that first month, as doctor visits still evoke way more anxiety for me than they used to. But I don't get misgendered anymore, at least.

This was all ten years ago I wasn't sure I'd still be here on this day back then. But I got through it. I'm still here for my spouse. I finished that first webcomic after an 11 year run, and have since started a second. And… I'm doing okay. I'm doing the best I can everyday.

It was a terrible time in my life - an especially terrible way to start my 30's - but I think it helps to talk about from time to time. And the ten year anniversary, feels as meaningful a time as any.

So thank you for reading all that. Please make sure to take care of and check yourself. Even if it's a part of yourself you don't want.

Stay safe, stay happy, and stay healthy everyone.

[batboyblog]

How concerned do you think we should be about election officials who are election deniers refusing to certify results? I’m trying not to be anxious about it but it is a challenge.

well this was a worrying moment

my understanding is that Mr. Richer will oversee this election before his term is done, it's super duper VERY VERY important that any Arizona voters who see this make sure to vote all the way down to the Democrat Tim Stringham to make sure ALL Americans get free and fair elections.

ANY WAYS, how worried should you be? well, I think its always important to not let fear and worry paralyze you, its important to remember that in 2020 election deniers did try, but Joe Biden had won too many states, they had to try to overturn Georgia, Pennsylvania, Michigan, Wisconsin, Arizona, and Nevada, too many state courts, too many election officials, too many moving parts. So our best hope of frustrating them again is to win big. Many of them will lose their nerve and not want to be on the "losing side" which again happened in 2020 with most Republicans going along with the election. In 2024 Trump will be an old-old man, to try to run again for President he'd be 82 years old, everyone says his public appearances have slipped from the past, his legal battles drag on, he could be sentenced to jail in 2025, all to say if I'm a scummy Republican Congressman in January 2025 and Trump has lost every swing state commandingly I'm not sticking my neck out for him.

SO! you want to feel better? you want to not feel worried, get involved, its the only cure, I swear to god it is, I know no one believes me when I say that but its true, want to not have election anxiety? Volunteer, the anxiety comes from a sense of a huge out of control event looming over you, if you take action your brain won't feel out of control, you will feel better.

look for an event to volunteer with here, if you live somewhere super red or blue without an important Senate/House race, I recommend checking Run for Something they support young progressive candidates running for lower profile offices. If you're super stressed about the federal thing Democrats do Phone Banking a group called Field Team 6 is doing Text Banking to help register likely Democrats in key states, Swing Left is writing letters and Progressive Turnout is doing Postcards starting on the 5th

EVERYONE! can do SOMETHING! even from their own home, but trust me, door knocking is the easiest, most satisfying, and most cathartic thing you can do. And it's all any of us can do about Republicans plotting, win, and win big.

[ladykailitha]

Of Butterflies and Backstrokes Part 13

It's a race to the finish line as we are nearing the end. I am quite proud of this little story. I started posting the weekend the Olympics ended and continued until almost Thanksgiving!

The final two chapters will come out tomorrow and Friday.

In this we have Steve learning progress is not a straight line, Dr. Hughes is brilliant, and Eddie's dreams come true.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12

~

The year just flew by, with Steve and Eddie working in the off season. Andy and Haley called them crazy.

“You’ll only burn him out,” Haley said, “then he won’t make it to the trials, let alone the Olympics, Steve.”

“I know you think this gung ho approach is going to do the job,” Andy agreed, “but it’s just not sustainable. You’ll wear him out before it’s competition time again.”

Steve looked back and forth between them in open mouthed shock. “You guys honestly think I would take advice from Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum? Fuck off.”

They were flabbergasted that he would speak to them that way, as if they hadn’t spent the last year mocking both Eddie and Steve’s progress in the pool.

Steve just shook his head and walked away. He was doing much better now. He could get in the pool up to his waist and duck under the lane divisions, but he couldn’t put his head under the water. He had even tried kneeling into it, but he had jumped out of the water so fast, he left a huge wake behind him.

It took him two more weeks after that to even put his toe in the water again.

He had never been so disappointed in himself. Not for him. Oh no. But for the look of pity on Eddie’s face when he turned around after having booked it to the lifeguard tower.

Dr. Hughes had admonished Steve for feeling that way. “Your recovery is not predicated on how Eddie feels about it. And I highly doubt it was pity, Steve. You know Eddie better than that. He was concerned for you. As I’m sure Robin was too.”

Steve was forced to acknowledge that he just wanted Eddie to be proud of his progress.

“Steve,” Dr. Hughes said gently, “we’re all proud of your progress. You can go into the water all the way up to your chest. That is a long way from freaking out over putting your foot in the water.”

He took a deep breath and let the words of encouragement slide over him like waves in the ocean. Oh how he wished the pool was just the ocean. Dark, fathomless and deep. Unknowable and therefore conquerable.

He explained the feeling to Dr. Hughes.

“The ocean doesn’t bother you?” he asked tilting his head to the side.

Steve frowned for a moment and then shook his head. “It’s not clear like pool water. I can’t see the bottom and know how far it is for me to drown.”

“Oh.”

A smile spread over Dr. Hughes face. “I’ve got the best idea.”

~

“What are these?” Steve said pulling out the weird goggles.

“They’re for tanning booths,” Eddie explained with a grin. “They’re so you can’t see.”

Steve frowned at them for a moment. “What am I not supposed to see?”

Eddie just continued to grin without saying a word. He put them over Steve’s eyes and led him through the halls. As they did, Steve started to hear waves crashing and the sound of gentle breeze.

“What the hell?” he asked, but Eddie continued to lead him on without a word.

He led Steve to the edge of something and that’s when he spoke.

“Just dive in,” he murmured. “It’s okay, we’re here for you.”

Steve was about to ask who else was there, but it didn’t matter. He trusted Eddie not have anyone there that would make fun of him. So he dived into the water and just swam. It felt so good to just let himself go. To just swim properly for the first time since the accident.

Then he touched a wall. He let his body sink and hit solid floor. The water only came up to his chest. But there was no way they would have let him dive in the endless pool or the kiddie pool.

He tore off the goggles and looked around. He was on the other side of the pool from the door.

“What the–”

On the side of the pool were Robin, Eddie, and surprisingly Dr. Hughes. Dr. Hughes was sitting in one of the folding chairs Steve often sat in during staff swims, Robin was standing next to him with her phone held out, and Eddie was crouched by the edge in case Steve panicked and needed to pulled out of the pool quickly.

He let out a startled laugh, pushing his hair out of his face. “That was amazing!”

“You did it, pretty boy!” Eddie shouted. “You swam in the big pool.”

The sound of the waves and wind cut out and Robin put away her phone with a grin.

He waded over to the edge of the pool to where Eddie was crouched. “So I did. Was this your idea, Dr. Hughes?” he asked, looking around Eddie to the seated man.

He smiled fondly. “It was. We’ll slowly build you up to not needing the sound, then not needing the goggles. The brain for all its complexities can be easily tricked.”

Steve laughed out right. “That’s brilliant!” His smile turned into a grin as he looked up at Eddie.

“Uh oh...”

But before he could get out of arms reach, Steve grabbed him by the arm and yanked him into the water. Laughing and splashing around.

Robin turned to Dr. Hughes and murmured, “Thank you. I haven’t seen him this happy in a long time.”

“It’s my pleasure,” Dr. Hughes said. “He really wants to get better. To overcome his fears and that makes him...hmm...I’m not sure easier would be the right word. More teachable, perhaps.”

“Despite all his dad’s faults and trust me he had many,” Robin said solemnly watching her best friend, “Clint could tell Steve loved the water. Like really loved the water and he did everything he could to make that happen for Steve. It’s just too bad the bastard got so wrapped up in winning he forgot that.”

Dr. Hughes nodded. Steve was happiest in the water and if he could help him get that back even just a little, then Dr. Hughes considered it a success.

~

The Olympic trials had finally arrived and Steve was nervous as hell. Not only because Eddie was going against Jason Carver to be on the team and Billy being there, but because Bob Newby. He was one of the best and he was worried Eddie wouldn’t live up to his exacting standards.

Thankfully Bob came over right before the meet started to chat.

“I’ve been hearing some really good things about your boy, Eddie,” Bob said after they exchanged pleasantries.

Steve grinned. “He’s good, Bob. Like proper talented, good.”

“I can’t wait to see him,” he replied with a nod. “I was hoping to see another name on this roster, was a little sad you weren’t on it.”

Steve blushed. “If I felt better about that damn pool behind you, I probably would have. But I just can’t. Not right now.”

Bob gave his elbow a squeeze. “I feel that. I’m just glad that they offered the coach position to me first. Their second choice was Billy fucking Hargrove.”

Steve leaned his head forward in surprise and disgust. “Are you kidding me? He barely medalled, why would they want him?”

“I don’t know,” Bob said, shaking his head. “It doesn’t make sense.”

Bribery. That would be the only reason for it. Straight up Olympic bribery, like fucking Salt Lake City didn’t blow the cover on that particular can of worms.

“Well, it’s good to see you again,” Steve said. “I’ve got go get my boy ready.”

“We’ll talk more after the meet,” Bob said.

Robin walked up to him and put her hand on his shoulder. “Eddie is going to do just fine.”

Jason, who had been walking by, scoffed. “Your boy is throwing up chunks in the locker rooms.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “Like your beloved coach wasn’t doing the same thing at the last Olympic trials and he still made it. So fuck off.” He waved his hands at Jason, who stomped off with a scowl.

Robin smirked. “He was throwing up because someone told him one of the other athletes was gay.”

Steve smirked back. “I’ll just go check in on Eddie. I’ll be right back.”

He walked into the looker room and everyone started pointing out the direction of the hurling. They knew who Steve was and they sure as hell knew who he was coaching this year.

“Eds?” Steve murmured walking up to the stall.

“Fuck man,” Eddie murmured. “Me and my band play to actual fucking crowds and I’ve never been this nervous before.”

“That’s because you’ve never had the chance to be seen on the world stage before,” Steve said soothingly. “I think you’d be throwing up before a performance if you were told that there was a talent scout in the audience who if they liked your stuff would be giving you a contract.”

Eddie stopped to consider that. “Oh yeah. Okay. I see your point.” He stood up and opened the door to the stall. “You gotta level with me coach, am I good enough?”

Steve took his head in his hands and pressed their foreheads together. “You are. You are one of the best swimmers I’ve ever seen and you have got this in the bag.”

Eddie gripped Steve’s wrists and nodded. “I’ve got this.”

He opened his eyes and saw how close they were. It would take absolutely nothing to press their lips together. Just tilt his head up.

Then a locker door slammed Steve jumped back, dropping his hands from Eddie’s face. His own face was burning.

“Steve...” Eddie murmured, holding out his hand to him. “It’s okay.”

“I want to so bad,” Steve muttered back. “But I’m coach, I can’t.”

Eddie smiled. “If I make it to the Olympics, you won’t be. Bob will. So just think about that for a moment.”

Steve huffed out a laugh. “You’re a menace, Eddie Munson.”

“You love it,” Eddie said, leaning into his space.

Steve playfully pushed him off. “Go blow away all the judges, rockstar.”

Eddie saluted and led the way out of the locker rooms, out to the pool, a fond Steve following behind.

~

The stands were stacked to the gills of all their friends and family. Max wasn’t trying out for the Olympics this year, opting to wait until she was older before she tried out. Steve and Susan were very proud of her making that decision for herself. She would be sixteen next time and they, and Robin thought it would the best for her.

It was going to be a crazy week. Having over a thousand athletes all vying for the same fifty spots. And a lot of those spots would be filled by the same people across the board.

Steve wasn’t sure what was worse: for first and watching everyone else beat your time or go last and be forced to watch all the amazing athletes go before you. Well Eddie was about to find out.

He was in the first heat on the first day for his first event and most of his heats were also on day one. Which thankfully, Jason was not. Jason was in the middle of the week and had been complaining about it to everyone who would listen longer than five minutes.

Chrissy Cunningham was at the end of the week. The first heat on the last day.

Steve gave Eddie’s shoulder a squeeze.

“Show the country who’s the best, Eddie,” he murmured. His hand slid down Eddie’s arm and he gave his hand a squeeze too.

Eddie smiled brightly and then tucked his hair under his cap. He padded over to his podium and started warming up his limbs. The whistle blew and he pulled down his goggles and got up on the podium. He crouched on it backward, still as can be, waiting for that shot.

BANG!

And Eddie arced into the pool backward, the strong lines of his body sending butterflies to the base of his rib cage and his heart rate rabbited.

Eddie was beautiful. There was no denying that. The last two years had taken him from a scrawny teen to a whipcord strength. His tattoos were beautifully on display and Steve let out a shuddering breath.

Robin took his hand and they watched as Eddie cut threw the water like a hot knife through butter. He was exquisite.

It was nerve-wracking every time he went into the water, but every time Eddie emerged from the water in the top three if not the top spot.

They watched and waited the whole week as others did the same.

When the results were tallied up at the end of the week, Eddie, Jason, and Chrissy were all going to the Olympics in London.

Eddie came bounding up to Steve. “Better get packing for London, pretty boy. I’m going to the Olympics!”

Steve laughed as he spun them around. “All right, all right!” he cried, laughing. “I’ll come watch you compete!”

“Yay!”

Steve let out a shuddering breath. He wasn’t sure if he could handle going to the Olympics and watching other people live his dream. But he’d do it. He’d do it for Eddie.

He’d do anything for Eddie.

~

Part 14

Tag List: CLOSED

1- @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog @gloomysoup

2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @cryptid-system

3- @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

4- @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji @eriquin

5- @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon

6- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman

7- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lingeringmirth

8- @gutterflower77 @a-lovely-craziness @just-a-tiny-void @w1ll0wtr33 @beelze-the-bubkiss

9- @chameleonhair @sadisticaltarts @dreamercec @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @mac-attack19

10- @aol19 @tartarusknight @morallyundefined

[lvrrgirlll]

Tolerate It (series)

Synopsis: Life as Patrick Zweig’s controversially young girlfriend should have been a dream, but it was anything but. He was a broken man. You were a girl who knew all too well. Who’s to say whether you’ve got it wrong now…

★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★

Pairing: Patrick Zweig x reader

Word count: 1.6k

Warnings: angst, reader is jealous and somewhat paranoid, references to cheating, creepy old men hitting on reader, both Patrick and reader get much needed wake up calls…

Notes: This entire part is kind of frustrating BUT it’s so necessary in the progression of the story y’all! It will all come together trust!! (Also I’m on Thanksgiving break soon so I’ll be able to write more)

Previous part

★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★

Part 3: Things fall apart

2029:

Weeks before you two had agreed to the interview, you already knew Patrick was going to retire. It hadn’t been announced at that point, but you knew. It had come after a particularly bad fight.

“But you don’t understand, Patrick! You’re not listening to me! It’s not easy for me, I feel like I drop everything to be there for you all the time. When was the last time you honestly did anything for me?” You shouted at him, frustrated at the fact that you were even having this fight. He had complained that you didn’t seem so supportive of him going for a spot in Wimbledon in the upcoming season, which you hadn’t been because you were tired of traveling all the time and being alone during the day while he practiced incessantly. That didn’t seem so hard to understand to you. He had won several titles over the past few years. What was one other?

“Oh, I don’t do anything for you? Who payed for the house we’re in right now? Who bought you that dress? Who bought that huge fucking rock on your finger?” He fired back angrily. You hated fighting like this. It always reminded you of the power imbalance between the two of you.

2020:

After finding out what you did, you decided not to confront Patrick. It must’ve been your mistake. You wrote it off as foolish assumption on your part. In your gut, though, you knew better.

You two went on like normal for a while. He went back on tour for a bit. With this newfound information, you definitely called him more often than before. He didn’t seem to mind though, which honestly surprised you for a bit. You half worried about annoying him, seeming like just some ridiculous kid, but at the end of the day, you did really care about him, and would do anything to make sure he stayed with you.

On a cool, Spring Saturday evening you called him, knowing he shouldn’t be busy given the time. Much to your dismay, though, no answer. Fuck. So you called him again. Still no answer. Doing what any rational person would, you checked his location. He was at some bar. You felt defeated. Surely he was with some whore. Then a terrible, horrible idea came to you. What if you drove out to where he was playing? What if you drove out to that bar? …No, you couldn’t. But then again…it was a Saturday night. You weren’t busy. And he was far, but realistically, not that far. A 4 hour drive. So maybe he wouldn’t be at the bar by the time you got there…but then again, maybe he would be? Your curiosity jealousy got the best of you as you grabbed your keys, slipping on your shoes and heading out to your car.

You drove like a bat out of Hell, surely speeding, but you hardly cared. You were fueled by your paranoia. What was he doing at some random dive bar? Why wasn’t he answering your calls? You intended to get answers to both of these questions.

Driving so quickly, you shaved a whole hour off the drive, arriving at the run down looking bar a little past midnight. When you got there you parked, slamming the door before marching into the building with purpose. Upon entering, you took in your surroundings. It was dim, most light coming from neon signs for different beer brands. There were a few pool tables off in one corner, an empty stage, and the bar, which looked to be the type that really only served beer or whiskey. Why on earth would Patrick even be at a place like this? He’s gotta be with some girl…

It wasn’t too busy. There were a few older looking guys at the end of the bar, not “older” like Patrick— actually older— and several ladies who looked to be in their 40s, loudly cheering with margaritas in hand. Still no sign of Patrick. You were still stood by the door, looking down at your phone to check his location, which still pinpointed him right at the bar, when you noticed the older men leering at you.

“Hey princess, what’s a pretty little thing like you doing here,” one of the men hollered. You tried to avoid eye contact, walking further into the bar and therefore away from them. There were several guys who looked to be closer to Patrick’s age crowded around the pool tables, so you walked in that direction, hoping Patrick was among them. With your luck, however, none of the dark, curly haired men were Patrick.

“What’s your name sweetheart,” one of them purred, leaning on his pool cue and eyeing you up and down. You felt uncomfortable, but definitely safer here than with the old guys from the front.

“Um- I’m looking for my, uh, boyfriend. He’s been here for a while, supposedly, and I was just kind of worried about him. H- have you seen a guy like this?” You turn your phone, then, showing off your lock screen which is a picture of you and Patrick cuddling in bed.

The man laughs in response, nodding his head in the direction behind you. “There’s your man, but uh, I don’t know if you’ll wanna see him…” he said smoothly, with a sense of pity filtering through his words. Your heart sank before you even turned around, and everything felt like it had just become slow motion. You turned around, seeing Patrick in a dark corner making out with another girl. You could hardly see her with his hands all over her face, but she looked to be sort of young like you. What the fuck?

“Hey, I’m sorry-“ the man behind you offered, but you walked away from him without another word. You approached Patrick quickly, reaching him finally. Despite your loud steps against the creaky wooden floor, neither he nor the girl he was currently kissing turned in your direction. Before you could even think of a strategy, you just let out a defeated assertion.

“Patrick.” His eyes immediately opened as he practically pushed the girl off of him, her eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

“Fuck, uh, what are you doing here?” That was all he could offer?

“You didn’t answer my call,” you replied as if it was the simplest thing in the world. You weren’t even sure why this hurt so much. You knew he was fooling around on tour…it was just something about him avoiding you to do so that really got you. The whole thing got to you, honestly, but you had been kidding yourself for months. It just finally fell apart.

“So…you came to my fucking location,” he questioned, looking at you with wide eyes. ‘He thinks I’m crazy…’ you thought. You looked up at him, tears welling up in your eyes. You didn’t want to cry here in this stupid dive bar in the middle of nowhere in front of him and his girl of the night.

“I didn’t know what else to do…I- I was worried,” your words were shaky as you spoke, your lip quivering. The girl he was with had walked away at this point, presumably assessing the situation enough to decide that it was best for her to leave. Patrick’s expression had changed from shock to pity.

“Baby, c’mere I’m so sorry…come on,” he tried to pull you into a hug, but you pushed him away.

“No Patrick, I don’t- I don’t want to just hug and forgive you all over again,” you sniffled, looking at him not with anger, nor sadness, but betrayal.

“Again?” He asked, looking confused.

“I saw your texts with that other girl from Savannah months ago when you came to visit. I’ve known for a while…” you murmured quietly. His eyes widened again, clearly shocked by this information.

“Shit- uh, you saw that? Fuck- why didn’t you say so sooner, oh my god.” You looked at him and no longer saw that man who could’ve hung the moon and stars. Now when you looked at him, you saw him how he saw himself: a pathetic loser who was in need of a serious reality check.

“Fuck you Patrick. I’m done.” With that, you moved to leave the bar, but he gripped your wrist as you turned, stopping you. “Let go of me,” you ordered, looking at him sternly as tears rolled down your cheeks. He did as you said, letting you go before chasing after you. In the parking lot he met you by your car, leaning on the door to keep you from leaving. “Move,” you muttered angrily.

“Baby, come on, just tell me what I can do. I can change, really, I promise. Please, I don’t wanna lose you.” It felt like bullshit, but it was honestly the truth. You were the most consistent thing he’d had in his life for a long, long time. I mean, hell, you two had been together for 9 months now. For him, that was like forever.

“You want to change, Patrick? Really, you want to change? Well here’s some advice then: get your shit together. I don’t care what you have to do. Go talk to your rich old daddy, ask him for a loan, and actually get back to where you deserve to be in your career. Fix your fucking relationship with your friends, because I know there’s still something there that you won’t tell me about, and I’m sick of it. And finally, actually learn how to be a good boyfriend. Don’t be such a man whore, it’s really not as attractive as you think it is. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m leaving. Give me a call when you’re a changed man.” And with that, he silently moved out of your way, watching you get in your car and reverse, leaving him standing there alone in the parking lot.

[anachronismstellar]

Fic writer curse got me fam, and the doctor didn't give me a note so I have to go to work. To cheer me up here's more Airplane vs The System because I wanna feel I'm making progress

And it's Cumplane Bros being smart because I love them and yeah

Hope you like it!

---

“There's…” he hesitated, glancing at Shen Yuan nervously before sweeping things around, going through names of missions. “There's stuff missing. And I can see the names, but now it's all gray? I can't select my old logs.”

Shen Yuan opened his own system, checking the same options Airplane had gone through, finding everything normal.

“That's weird, even for the System,” Shen Yuan took a step back, picking up his fan, tapping it against his palm as he walked back and forth. “And you don't remember getting any messages?”

“No, I would have told you if anything had popped up!” Which, yea, Airplane wouldn't be able to hide something like that. And they had been enjoying a nice life for the past couple of years, finally living their happy ending. Yes, some wife plots here and there but…

“I thought it was done with us now that the story was finished.” Airplane's voice cracked at the end, and this time Shen Yuan couldn't help but feel his heart squeeze for his fellow transmigrator, murderously rampant or not.

“Okay, we have to think.” Shen Yuan went back to walking, pressing his fingers against his forehead, his crown starting to feel too tight on his head. “We know Linguang-Jun was working with an Owl demon. Did he say anything else?”

Airplane blanched, trembling hand going over his mouth, rubbing his fingers over closed pressed lips. It took him some moments to compose himself, shrugging as he made the screen vanish.

“He said it wasn't a Demon, but a Heavenly being, which makes no sense, I didn't write the Heavens-”

“Oh so you do remember what you wrote, amazing!”

“-But he also said that they wanted Mobei-Jun alive. He said that they were powerful and they knew all about Linguang-Jun's schemes, down to the people he had bribed, that's why he had to help them.”

“Did he at least describe them? It was an Owl type of creature but what else?” He stopped next to the table, moving papers around with the tip of his fan. He couldn't help but think that something else was going on. “If we have the physical description we can focus on one area of the map.”

Shen Yuan huffed when Airplane ignored his comment completely only with a twitch of an eye. Airplane couldn't physically hurt him, Shen Qingqiu's cultivation skills being better than Shang Qinghua could ever develop, but Airplane looked just enough on the edge that he might try his luck with a punch.

Shen Yuan didn't want to test his limits, so he ignored that he had been ignored, letting it slide.

“He said that they arrived as a white Owl, then they changed to their humanoid form.”

Shen Yuan froze, eyes going wide. The color helped to focus their search on the Northern Desert, but where? The area was huge, most of it completely uninhabitable except-

“The Polar Owl,” he mumbled, not bothering to answer Airplane's “what?”, shoving away the pile of useless notes to grab the huge map of the demon realm hidden under it all. “You only wrote one fucking normal animal in this entire weird ass story, and it was the Polar Owl,” Shen Yuan grabbed a brush to circle the places the Owl hypothetically lived, not cursing out loud Airplane's lack of following through with backgrounds. This time. “They live in the furthest north anyone ever been, no one else can survive the low temperatures except-”

“The Mobei line.” Airplane's whisper wasn't loud enough to interrupt Shen Yuan but the awed expression on Shang Qinghua's face was.

“Exactly.” Shen Yuan snapped his fan open, a smirk tilting his lips up as he straightened up his shoulders, putting on his best peak lord smug face. “And they are considered sacred to the Northern tribes because of their resistance to low temperatures. Thus it is completely possible that Linguang-Jun thought that the person he spoke with had come from the Heavens.”

Ding!

Mission in progress: Author's favorite.

UV002 objective: aid UV001

[COMPLETED]

---

Off to work I go, wish me luck ✌️

[furiousgoldfish]

On effortless recovery (personal)

I've been slowly dealing with cptsd and osdd for the last 8 years, and while I've had to actively work on some stuff, other have just happened without my interference, or at least, without me knowing I did anything about it. I have not been to therapy; or rather, there's been several attempts that were not working, and I had to end them. For instance, I've had therapy with someone who showed next to no interest in my issues and kept minimizing and ignoring whatever I've been saying, and this was the only person who didn't try to institutionalize me.

I've had to actively work on osdd, and it's something I'm learning about, and understand more as I go, but I also get that osdd is making everything else much easier on me. For instance, lots of my memories and thoughts are being blocked from me, and contained in alters who are making sure that I'm not affected by it, that is a huge help. Lots of thoughts that would upset me if I thought about them, are completely out of my reach, and if I do try to think about them, my mind goes blank and I forgot what I was thinking about. That's a great help for issues like anxiety and spiraling; I used to drown in my own fears and worries; now I just can't remember any of it. It is slightly depressing that my own peace of mind requires that big amount of amnesia, but you know, having some peace is so nice I could never be anything less than grateful for it. Being able to maintain some semblance of peace feels like resiliency, it means I have a place of quiet where I can go back to, even when distressing things happen.

I'm having my chronic pain and chronic exhaustion ease away from me very slowly. I still get exhausted easily, and am tired way more often than a regular person, but I now rarely get days when I can't get out of bed, or have to sacrifice a whole week due to a flashback or a nightmare. I no longer get anxious about planning to do something a day or two ahead because I can count on having at least a basic amount of energy. I don't think I've done anything to create this, it was just happening over the years, on its own. It's also happening so slowly that I don't even feel the progress, I have to remember to look 3 or 5 years back and remember just how much time I've been spending in bed then, to realize that it's less now, that I can do multiple activities a day now. I know I'm extremely lucky to be recovering from this, because there are people who have a chronic condition that doesn't allow for recovery, and I am very grateful for every day I can move around.

Another thing that is much better is sleeping! I used to wake up feeling like I'm dying, overheated, stressed, anxious, sometimes even paralyzed in fear, and if not fear, then grief would hold me down and I would be too sad to move. Now I'm finding myself waking up thinking 'Oh I'm so well rested! I have the energy to tackle some chores' like I'm in an actual good mood. And it's like ??? what is going on, since when is this me. I've been dreaming of having mornings like this, and now I have them, and it just happened over time (8 years) I still only think about doing chores when I have energy, because I know it's the only time of day I'll have any energy, so if I wake up restful I will rush to do dishes, laundry, cleaning, cooking, and whatever else, because I know the energy will go away later and I will become a sad slob. But it's much better than waking up and having to take a few hours (or days) just to recover from sleeping. My sleeping schedule has been 8 hours all along, I somehow can't sleep over the 8 hour mark, and can't function if I sleep less than 7.

I will still sometimes have flashbacks and meltdowns if anything bad happens to me, but the recovery time from them has gone way down. It used to be weeks, months even, to recover from a single bad event. Now it's more like hours and days. It's still not very similar to what I think a regular person would have to deal with, but I love the progress very much! One thing that slips my mind is that I regularly forget how much worse things used to be. If I bounce back from something, I forget that in the past, this would ruin me for weeks, and I forget that this is progress and to take a minute to acknowledge that. I just take what I can and go. But it's good to look at it and see that life is a little easier.

Some anxiety has also withered away from me, because so much of my anxiety was due to inexperience. New problems that would appear in my life seemed unsolvable and catastrophic, because I never faced those problems before, didn't know how to solve it, didn't dare to ask for help, didn't have skills or knowledge to tackle any of them myself, and all of it felt like it would lead to my doom. After already having solved some of those problems multiple times, I'm at peace just because I know what to do now. I haven't done much asking for help to be honest, because I hate it, but in struggling to solve the problems myself (sometimes taking months and years to do so), I've gathered knowledge, skills and experience, and I now have a general idea of what to do in situations that reoccur, and also know what to expect, how long something will take, what type of action will resolve it. Just living and tackling things by myself, and succeeding, eases a lot of anxiety. There is a solution to everything, with sufficient knowledge, experience and skills.

A lot of stuff that's previously been bothering me to the level where I couldn't deal with it, can now be dealt with merely distracting myself from it. Which I think is very funny, because I used to consider all my time playing games or looking at funny videos 'procrastination', because I wasn't being productive right, I was just 'procrastinating' and delaying dealing with life. Now I value these activities specifically because they can save me from feeling miserable and sad. There's a warmth to looking at people being goofy, funny, interesting, entertaining, and taking joy in it, and reminding myself there's still a lot of good things in the world, there are good people, there is warmth, there is love, and I feel better after seeing it, regardless of how awful I felt before. Having my own thoughts redirected to something hopeful is making my days better, more stable. I think I'm just stopping myself from spiraling into hopelessness, by looking directly at hope and staying fixated on it for long enough. And it's something I didn't previously value as a real activity, because I didn't believe that making myself feel better while producing nothing, was a worthwhile pursuit.

Being safe from abuse for a long time managed to erode the feelings of guilt and shame I had in my own interests, thoughts and activities, and I've became unafraid of any failures. It is now very clear to me that failing is the only way towards learning and it's incredibly valuable. I'm shameless at starting new hobbies and activities and it does not bother me whatsoever when I do badly. Even failing at big stuff in my life, things that created actual damage to me, supplied me with knowledge I don't think I would otherwise gain, and I treasure it. I don't feel ashamed or like I've done anything wrong. I've been able to engage with my own curiosity about things and I'm now able to ask questions about anything, without feeling bad for 'not knowing already'.

I've also accepted that I'm bad at some stuff, and it doesn't mean anything much about me, we're all bad at something. Sometimes I'm bad at stuff, but enjoy doing them, so I still do them, fun gives it good value! And if I'm both bad at something and don't enjoy it, then I completely drop it, and feel okay knowing this just isn't for me. I remember when I used to believe I'm bad at everything, just because I was getting such horrid feedback on it, now it's almost funny. I like stuff I create even when I do them badly, because I remember how much fun I had doing it. If I want to do them better, I know I just need to keep practicing and it will happen. Nothing a human creates is shameful, especially if it's not causing any harm to anyone. We're made to create and it makes us happy.

I don't think I've done anything specific to create these changes, maybe some critical analysis of the past, and some willingness to consider my own happiness important and worthwhile. I think I spent so much time grieving that I've actually processed the most of it, so I'm no longer as overwhelmed by it as I was before. It's not like I'm no longer sad, I will start sobbing frequently and whenever I'm tired, I am automatically miserable. But it is no longer constant, suffocating feeling that follows me for every second of existence.

I haven't done anything to fix the sleeping or to ease the chronic pain, that was just time and being safe from abuse for a longer period. I wanted to write this specifically because I've been waking up feeling okay the last few days and that was a shock to experience, what a bliss to wake up and think 'I'm well rested'. Incredible life experience.

[strangelittlestories]

If that year’s winter had not been cold enough to crack the air, or if it had not overstayed its welcome like a troublesome relative, then the village never would have called upon the woman with all the skulls.

But the warmth came late and, worse, when it did it brought the sickly sweet smell of blight on the wind. The people tried to hope it away, but it clung in their nostrils, the ghost of future hunger pains.

When spring finally limped into view, the first long-term crops emerged shrunken and sickly. Barely thawed earth was dug up to reveal blackened roots beneath. The farmers toiled to get their first plantings of the spring in the earth, but a second snap of frost killed their progress and many of the seeds.

So, with a hard and hungry year promised, Evelyn (the village librarian) volunteered to make the journey to the Tower of Skulls and Soot.

Evelyn was no fool. She took all reasonable precautions. She brought gifts: a small jar of her own baby teeth, saved by her parents in case she ever saw such desperate times; and a parcel of old poetry books that no-one ever checked out as they were long past the fashion. 

She took protection too: from beneath the library’s floorboards she excavated the Quiet Stone, a worn piece of marble that resonated with all the silent moments of revery that echoed above it. With it, she could take any place she travelled to into a library. She also brought a knife (because some people didn’t respect libraries).

When she reached the tower, she was struck by its strange appearance; the impossibly elongated femurs and humeruses of its pillars; the lightning blackened spire; the hanging baskets of death-pale flowers. Inside herself, she noticed a new feeling squirm at the sight and it was … not unpleasant. She gulped and raised a hand to the jawbone knocker on the front door.

The door creaked open, revealing a light and airy corridor - totally empty. Most people would have asked, in a similar situation: well, who opened the door? Evelyn was left wondering: how on earth does a hinge made of cartilage creak?

Soft whispers coming from nowhere and everywhere guided Evelyn through the hallways and winding stairs (mostly made of stone, but with some bone accents). The way was lit by skulls mounted on the walls, with small patches of glowing fungus growing from their mouths. Eventually, the gentle susurrus guided her to a solar near the top of the tower. 

Evelyn had never been in a solar before, but had read descriptions in books and had always thought they sounded most elegant and sophisticated. She was glad to see she was correct, as this room was spacious but not gaping, well appointed but not gaudy, and comfortable but not too cosy. It was filled by crisp morning sunlight that spilled through a huge window that took up the entirety of the east wall.

Sitting by the fireplace was the lady with all the skulls. She rested on a chair with a frame built from the skeleton of some fierce and hunched creature, but filled in with plentiful soft cushions. She wore a sleek robe of pure white; it looked soft.

“Greetings, fell mistress. I bring you a gift of-” Evelyn began confidently, before tripping over the final step.

The jar of teeth went flying from her hands and shattered on the floor. Molars and broken glass covered the floor.

“Well, that’s certainly an improvement on pitchforks and flaming torches.” The lady’s lip twitched almost imperceptibly. “But your aim certainly needs work.”

She flicked a finger in the direction of the teeth, which transformed immediately into a dozen tiny creatures that began to gobble up the glass. They were like a cross between cats, ferrets and tiny dragons. The shards went crunch in their teeth (Evelyn’s *teeth* had *teeth*).

“I, uh, also brought poetry.” Evelyn held out the books. “It’s quite old, I’m afraid. But I like it.”

“A poorly flung tooth grenade *and* classic poetry?” An eyebrow was arched. “I can’t tell if you’re trying to assassinate me or court me.”

Evelyn blushed.

“If I might ask-”

The lady waved a hand.

“I already know what’s on your mind. And yes, I will raise your village’s crops from the dead.”

“Actually,” Evelyn continued to blush, “I was going to ask you where you got those robes. People in towers - especially with so many skulls - always seem to have robes. And I’m sure no-one nearby makes them. At least, not ones so fine as that.”

The lady looked at Evelyn properly for the first time. Once more, Evelyn felt that strange squirming sensation and again realised that she didn’t mind it.

“I keep a small colony of zombie silkworms. They’re picky eaters, mind, but they do make the most delicate threads.” She paused, noticing something in Evelyn’s eyes. “I could gift you some, if you like.”

“Um…”

“Now come on, let’s get to your village before they think I’ve eaten you or harvested your clavicle or some nonsense.” She rose. “I swear, folks may think all the skulls are a *bit much*, but … when the killing winter comes, they remember they need a necromancer.”

---

With thanks to Character of the Month member Ellie Williams for the character of Evelyn.

Want to join the Character of the Month club and suggest character pitches for my stories? Support me at £10/month on Ko-Fi! https://ko-fi.com/strangelittlestories

[reasonsforhope]

How can I stay positive regarding the wildfires?

It can be really hard in the face of so much destruction. I don't know how much anyone can specifically stay positive in the face of disasters like this -

but I can give you some thoughts about how to let hope live alongside everything else you're feeling about this, and how to avoid spiraling and remember that this is not proof that we're doomed.

Possibly relevant note lol is that I've lived my whole life in California, so suffice to say figuring out how to move forward among the consequences and destruction of massive wildfires is something I'm definitely not new to.

I remember walking to my classroom in elementary school, about 20 years ago now, and it was literally snowing ash around me. This too shall pass.

Take a few deep breaths. I know it's cliche but it's also important

Zoom out in terms of perspective: Wildfires can make the sky look apocalyptic (like I said, I have lots of experience with this!), but they are regional, and they always end. These wildfires are awful but this specific wave of fires is happening in just one country in a huge, huge world. There's far more land that isn't burning

Canada is about to get substantial international aid in fighting the wildfires - there are already 200 additional firefighters headed over from the US and France, and Canada (Quebec specifically) is also already in talks with Costa Rica, Portugal, and Chile about additional firefighters/resources. Help is on the way and these numbers really will make a big difference, and as the disaster continues (unfortunately it is uh...pretty early in fire season), more help will be sent. People are doing what they can to help, because in the face of disaster, that's what we're wired to do

There are actually MUCH better fire management plans than just about anyone is using, esp in North America but that we COULD implement and increasingly WILL going forward. A lot of the wildfire situation these days is because of the West's incredibly wrongheaded derision toward traditional Indigenous land and ecosystem management practices, including cultural prescribed burns that keep massive wildfires from happening. California in particular is already partnering with several First Nations to revive prescribed burns, to significant success. As fires continue to be terrible, more and more places will get on board with this. We can and will implement practices that will truly change our situation

Cultural burns work because, ironically, the reason for the wildfires is that "is that we've been so good at putting out every fire possible that it has led to overly dense forests and a buildup of burnable material like branches and dry vegetation" that makes wildfires much worse in a number of ways. At lower intensity, however, as with cultural burns, forest fires can actually have huge environmental benefits

Finally, every time a natural disaster happens like this, as awful and destructive as they are, it serves as a wake-up call for thousands of people and adds both ever-mounting urgency and ever-mounting evidence to the importance of fighting climate change, which really does translate into action. For a lot of people, "saving the environment" feels super distant - but you know what feels super immediate? Saving their homes from burning down (or getting flooded or otherwise destroyed, etc. etc.) In 2021, the UN ran the world's largest climate survey, across 1.2 million people and 50 nations, and almost TWO-THIRDS SAID THAT CLIMATE CHANGE IS A GLOBAL EMERGENCY THAT WE NEED TO WORK HARDER TO ADDRESS. Imagine that 10 years ago! That other third of people aside, this really is real and massive progress

Also, every time there's a big disaster like this, climate change deniers look more and more baldly ridiculous. Think about it: How often did you hear US Republicans bullshitting about climate change denial 10 years ago? And how often do you hear them doing it now? In fact, there's increasing evidence that Republicans really are shifting on climate change (mind you they're managing to do it in an obnoxiously somehow pro-fossil-fuel way, but it's still a major sea change). Some of them are literally calling for a clean energy transition, and Kevin McCarthy himself (guy in charge of the US House right now) created a task force for to a conservative climate change agenda that acknowledges climate change is real. There's now a conservative climate conference that does active lobbying and a House Conservative Climate Caucus, which somehow has SIXTY MEMBERS. Again, something that would've been unimaginable just six or seven years ago.

Every acre that the fires burn this year is an acre that's pretty guaranteed to not burn next year, for what that's worth. (And I do think it's worth mentioning, esp with such a high number of acres)

The battles are going to be hard, but I truly believe that even the ones we lose often bring us closer to winning the war.

Fires burn, but life always grows back.

[strangebiology]

"How do I do your job as a side hustle?"

[Excerpt from Authors of Nonfiction Books in Progress]

Recently I talked to someone who wanted to get good at social media. When I told her I have 315k followers across platforms, she said, “How do you do that!? Teach me your ways!” She was interested in making money from social media. I was also invited to lead an online course on social media or book writing as a side hustle.

It reminded me of all the times I’ve heard, “How do you find so many bones?” or “How did you get that award?” or “How do you get a book deal?” or "How do you make money from writing?"

I LOVE talking about this stuff. I WILL talk about these topics for hours. And I LOVE the implication in the conversation that I'm good at something.

I also really respect the positivity in general that comes with someone asking if they could do that. It is good to ask how someone does something rather than resigning yourself to "I'm not good at that stuff." (AND the people who ask me are polite and respectful of my time! So no hate at all!)

BUT! I realized that people aren't liking the answers I give.

I used to enthusiastically give detailed tutorial answers to "how do you do that?" I often got interrupted when I did that. “Yeah yeah yeah, I don’t have time for that!” People don’t have 60 seconds to hear a summary of steps of how to do something, but they think they have time to learn to do it well? It can take years.

I realized people expect me to advise some quick tips they can employ over the weekend, and they’ll have the skill/award/grant/contract in a couple of days with no previous relevant experience. Or maybe there’s a website where they can download these skills, like in The Matrix.

Now I try to find one-sentence answers that imply a huge amount of homework for them. How do you get a book contract? “Build a writing career.” How do you get a lot of followers? “content is king, audience is queen.” How did you get that award? “Do something that would win that kind of thing.”

(Also, I don't make much money on social media, so I don't have advice for making it a side hustle.)

I asked other science writers if they often get asked how to make their career (science writing, book writing, social media, etc) into a side hustle, wondering if I'm wrong to say "I don't recommend it as a side hustle." The professionals I talked to agreed that they would say the same thing. Some said they feel it's a bit ignorant and disrespectful to think someone else's career is something anyone could do, and profit significantly from, after a 1-minute conversation and little work.

Even people who have been writing for years are struggling to find work in this field. It's hard. I have an MS in Science Journalism that I will likely never finish paying for--I'm not saying everyone needs that, or even that it's very common in this field. It's not. But geez, if science writing were a skill you could get in a 60-second phone call, I would have done that!

Imagine if I said to you, "I've got some free time on Thursday, I think I'll start doing your job on the side. How hard could it be?"

It can certainly be worth it to learn these things, and there are some things you, personally, might be 90% of the way to achieving! So, maybe a 10-minute conversation can help you start the process of capitalizing on your existing skills! I just encourage you to realize the answer to “how do you achieve X” is almost always “a ton of work and practice.” 

Maybe ask more specific questions after you've already done significant Googling. For example, “What’s the title of the award again so I can look for it?” “What science writing communities do you recommend?” I can answer those.

PS. I'd love to hear if you've had similar or different experiences! *Is* your job something you recommend to anyone as a side income? Or are you constantly battling that assumption?

[feuillesss]

Is The Boycott Effective?

***DISCLAIMER***

I do not know these idols personally! This is just my interpretation of the cards that I pulled, please take this reading with a grain of salt. For entertainment purposes only.

( day/month/year - 15/11/24 )

SM Boycott Progress

Are the boycott/protests effective?: (6oprev./4os/5ow/10oc)(10os/7os/Mag)

Okay, these cards imply that Centre 5 is looking at this through a calculative lens, figuring out what to do, and what people's strategies are. I kept getting dishonesty? I'm not entirely sure what that means but they could be up to something behind the scenes. I think they're embarrassed by this, they feel like they failed, they're trying to avoid losing money. However, they're looking at the future with some hope, new beginnings, and change. But what I'm getting from this is that we cannot give up, and we need to be louder than ever, they're counting on people to give up and forget, for this situation to die down. They're worried about the financial losses that this could bring, they feel like it's a setback to the things they want to achieve with Riize. I'm really just getting that they're gauging how serious people are about this, if they'll give up like the last boycott. They're definitely planning something, thinking and weighing their options. How effective this boycott is, how it ends, depends on how much effort we put into it. The scene from the social network came into my mind.

Is SM seeing everything?: (Death/TheEmp)

Yes

Don't take their continued silence as a no, companies will not let it show when a boycott is being effective.

No one asked for this but I wanted to do this reading to give you guys some hope and strength to keep boycotting. I've seen way too many people being pessimistic about this and saying things like "I don't think he's coming back, "I've lost hope", which is understandable but guys, it's only been a month. If you give up after a month, why did you start in the first place? We need to stay positive about this, spread positivity, let SM know Seunghan will come back to a welcoming environment. And stop giving attention to ot6, put that energy into boycotting harder. It's not impossible just because it's never been done before, because it has been done before and never on this scale. No matter how long it takes, we should be fighting for the justice of not just Seunghan and Riize, but for all idols who have been affected by this delusional fan behaviour. When he comes back, it will be a huge step for the kpop industry in general, it will put us in the right direction for change. I truly believe that he will be back in Riize. Imagine one day we get to see idols in public relationships, not being scared to look at the opposite gender, this is the first step to get to that point. It's easy to think your efforts are useless and small but trust me, they're not. This is having a big impact. It's proven by ot6 making up baseless rumours and scrambling to ruin our efforts, it's proven by SM's silence, it's proven by Sangmin's little Instagram stories, it's proven by every article that comes out, it's proven by everything that they do to discourage people. All the things they do to make you think this boycott is not working, just prove that it is working, that they see it, are threatened by it, and are taking measures to stop it. Even if nothing comes from this, we've already begun the first step to change things and disable the power that these fans have over these companies, we've made so much noise, not only this past year but even just this past month. So please don't give up, no matter how long it takes.

[sacred-coffin]

Rubbing my grubby little hands together. It's time to bipolar Terzo.

And, one thing for the record, I'm bipolar! So I know what I'm talking about and I'm projecting a little and that's valid

I tried to rewrite my bullet points from my google doc to sound... nicer and more professional, but it didn't feel right. So y'all are getting the raw unfiltered version from when I infodumped about this in a discord chat, hope you like it :)

ONE . He has big overarching aspirations, but also mad depressive episodes. These get in the way of him completing his goals and also make things fuzzy along the way.

He's got this big city, big social change, all of these huge goals and life paths he wants to follow. And there are times where he's really set and driven on working on it! Especially when people are egging him on, like when he was a cardinal. I imagine he had a lot of sustained manic or hypomanic episodes while he was a cardinal.

Being very dead set on a goal, possibly losing sleep over it, putting all of your time and effort on it...Also however you want to interpret the cream pies comment (sexual or food) it both lines up with something a manic person would do. SO.

I think once he's in the ministry again / papa his depressive episodes started getting harder & his manic episodes more. Erratic.

He had less people pushing & supporting him towards his goals / what he was really passionate about, so he was just . Really bitter and pulled away from people. You see a lot more of his irritable and generally temperamental side come out during this time bc like. When he has manic episodes he has so much energy to use up but nowhere for it to go! Sometimes being really angry with something can trigger a manic episode, and I think he might be prone to doing things really excessive/extreme all of a sudden to spite people. If that makes sense. Like the decision to ditch the papa robes, things like that.

Also iirc, when he was a cardinal he was really over indulgent. That is very common for manic episodes; it's very common to  develop substance abuse issues as well. I think he could be a borderline alcoholic, but he's pretty good at hiding it. Definitely better at hiding it than when he was younger, but the habit is worse when he's older

I kinda wanna talk about Terzo possibly being like, a pretty angry person. And this is definitely projection LMAO. He very much presents himself as a guy who probably doesn't have angry outbursts and such, but I think that. Well. If he's bipolar that is NOT true ok. When I thought about this the first time I was like "would he punch walls? No. His mom raised him better than that. But God does he want to break stuff"

I feel like part of his reclusiveness is to keep up this image he has to everyone-- you can't judge him or form an opinion of him in his off time if you don't see it. So you don't see him getting drunk, you don't see him being depressed, you don't see him getting mad, but god it is happening all the time

I just feel like, like, you could argue he has this sudden shift in personality at a certain point. Or maybe at multiple points. In regards to how he felt about his goals at least. Esp bc I resonate so hard with the thought that he didn't want to be the machine-man (from Metropolis, 1927), but he had to, and I feel like being bipolar explains that so so well. Facing adversity he'd get so pissed about it, but he would only let that stop him for a little bit. But he'd also wouldn't be able to make the kind of progress he did before (like drawing up blueprints or plans) because he doesn't have that same well of outside energy & support to tap into

God also. He is so delusional. He is so so so delusional.

I think being Papa ruined his mind .

No offense but like. His goals are impossible. He's chasing them so hard anyways. He's insane. Like. Like.

I don't know I can only compare this in my mind rn to my mom looking at me when I was like, 5 years old or something and telling me she was going to become an archeologist and move to Egypt. Like she was so so sure of herself that it was going to happen. Obviously it fuckin didn't,

Also also. I feel like he's not diagnosed bc I feel like it's more likely to be missed in men. Also I want to give him migraines even though it's less common in men but slightly more common with people who are bipolar and also bc it is GENUINE projection but I think the idea of Omega walking in and seeing Terzo hidden in a bundle of blankets with all the lights off like "is this a depression cocoon or a migraine cocoon" and Terzo just kinda shifts the blanket around and you see him wearing this funny as fuck eye mask. And Omega is like "migraine cocoon, got it" and just fucking leaves

Did he shave his head once and regret it? Yes. Did he get addicted to cocaine? Probably. Did he spend all of his money on model city pieces? At least twice.

I think in the end it's entirely possible he bought into everyone's ideas that maybe he is the one who should be worshiped

I feel like a lot of manic episodes & things can be so warped by the people you surround yourself with and like. Idk. Being the face of a devil worshiping cult can give a normal guy a God complex.

But a guy who's already prone to delusion and God complex??? Oh honey he's FUCKED.

[maretinelli]

GREAT FRIEND OF YOURS

Jake Peralta X fem!reader

Summary: Jake and y/n have been friends for as long as they can remember, but as the years go by their feelings begin to turn romantic.

Words: 3.4K+

Warnings: I don't remember exactly, so, mentions of the past, friends to lovers, Jake and S/n being romantically silly.

Author: First of all, English is not my first language, I apologize for any mistakes that may be in the story. And second, I want a JAKE FOR MYSELF NOW!!

Y/s: Surname

MASTERLIST

Jake Peralta and Y/n Y/s. Best friends since childhood, they entered the police academy together, got their first job together and of course, they entered 99 together.

If this wasn't a love story told from motherhood, I wouldn't know how to describe what it was.

They were always great friends, but as their journey progressed, they both fell in love with each other. But obviously, neither of them knew that the other was in love.

But it was so clear, it was written in the stars every night.

99 couldn't stand seeing the stolen glances, the flirtations they didn't notice, the shameless kindness and affection.

•••••••••••••••••••

Jake had arrived before Y/n at the police station. Which was strange, because when they didn't come together, Peralta would arrive late.

"Good morning guys!" Jake walks in smiling and everyone looks at him.

Amy looks at her watch and then at Jake.

"Did you look at your watch today?"

"Of course, why?"

"You're 10 minutes early. You're always late. What's wrong?" Rosa asks.

"Wait a minute guys," Amy says, looking straight at the detective who was standing with his bag over his shoulder. "GUYS, JAKE GAVE HIS HAIR GEL!!" She screams, making the entire squad look at Jake.

Jake grimaces.

"Shut up. I didn't put anything in my hair, as usual." He huffs and Charles steps closer to him.

"Seriously!!"

"Yeah, I passed. But be quiet."

"Who did you pass it on to? To your beloved Y/n Y/s?!"

Jake quickly turns to his best friend and checks the room to see if anyone had heard that.

"Sorry." Boyle makes a zipper sign across his mouth and smiles without showing his teeth.

With that, Sergeant Jefford ends up arriving at the police station and calling the 99 squad for a small morning meeting.

Jake enters the room last and tells us who was there.

"...6...7...8!! Someone's missing" He puts his hands on his hips.

"Did you tell me, sweetie?" Gina asks, looking at her phone.

"Of course!"

"He forgot his beloved." Rosa says, putting her feet on the table.

"Aaaah true" The squad responds in chorus and Peralta rolls his eyes.

"Damn, I forgot to tell you about Y/n. By the way, does anyone know where she is?" Jake asks worriedly, we put our hands on our hips again.

"You tell me. You guys always arrive together. I think there's a bit of a fuss and a roll the night before you come here," Gina says and everyone smiles.

"That's right, Gina." Diaz high-fives Gina and the squad waits for Jake's response.

"You guys are so funny. You should work in the circus," he says seriously. "And no, I don't know where she is either. The last time I talked to her was last night."

"Grate and roll..."

"Gina, shut up" Peralta points at her and she smiles raising her hands up.

With that said, a hurried Y/n enters the room. With two bags hanging on her shoulder, hair with curled ends, makeup and a beautiful pair of Louboutin heels on her feet.

"Sorry guys for being late. I know I'm not like that, I'm really sorry." She walks in quickly and sits next to Jake.

"Wow!!! What's that in y/s?" Rosa whistles playfully and the squad joins in.

"What's up, friend. Where are you going like that?"

"Jake's drooling!" Boyle says, pretending his hand is full of something.

Everyone looks at Jake, including Y/n.

"Hi honey. It's so quiet there." Y/n jokes, pushing him with her shoulder.

"Ah...I...hi sweetie" Jake ends up stuttering, but in the end he lets out that mischievous smile.

Y/n opens a huge smile as she looks at Peralta.

"Are you guys going to just stand there and make out, or can we start the meeting?" Sergeant asks.

Jake grimaces and Y/n smiles, raising her hands up in surrender.

"Sorry, Sergeant. Peralta is a very handsome guy to look at." She flirts.

"Name of your sex tape!!" Everyone screams and she rolls her eyes holding back a laugh.

"Good morning, squad. Today I'm going to give you a quick summary of what you'll be doing today. Boyle will be in charge of the paperwork for case 23, Santiago and Diaz will go on a mission after the criminal Bryan. Scully and Hitchcock will stay in the file room and finally, Peralta and y/s will stay together to solve case 8-24Ws." Sergeant says.

"Look there, honey. Together again!" Jake exclaims, squeezing Y/n's cheeks.

"Aawww Jakee!!

"NAME OF YOUR SEX TAPE" The squad yells again.

"Ok guys. Dismissed" Sergeant says, making the detectives stand up.

"I have to stop messing around with these sex tape names." Y/n says as she stands up and grabs her bags.

Peralta stands up and takes the bags from y/n's hand, so he can take them to the table for her.

"I think so too. But it's really cool to keep talking about this all day, please continue," Peralta said as he gave y/s space to leave the room. "Now, changing the subject. Why so many bags for one shift?"

Y/n smiles as she arrives at her table. Which happened to be the one in front of Jake's.

"You know that guy we met at training a few weeks ago? The one from 95." Jake rolls his eyes.

"How could I not remember, he ate you through your eyes?" He says in a low voice, but Y/n ends up hearing him.

"Yeah. I think that's the one," she laughs. "So, at the end of training he asked for my number and we've been talking ever since. Today we're going on our first date. Isn't that awesome?" She smiles and Jake's face is completely serious.

"Oh yeah. Of course." He says seriously and places her bags on the table.

This information caught Jake off guard. It wasn't entirely what he wanted to hear from Y/n. Yes, she looked so beautiful and perfect in that outfit she wore and those Louboutin heels, it was to be expected that she would go out on a date at the end of the day. But deep down, Jake wanted it to be just a drink with his friends.

But it was also obvious. Rosa, Amy, and Gina hadn't said anything.

While they were working together, Peralta couldn't concentrate on the case. Because, first, she was SO beautiful that it took his focus away from his duties, and second, the words 'first date' and 'let's go out today' wouldn't leave his head.

You see, the love of her life was dating someone else, of course she didn't love him, as he loved her. And third, Jake was desperate to tell her everything he felt at that moment and maybe ruin their friendship forever.

"Jake? Did you hear me?" Y/n asked, as she took the first suspect of the case to the interrogation room.

"Sure, yes." He says desperately.

"Is that okay with you then? If I interrogate him?"

"Oh, yeah. It could be." He smiles without showing his teeth and they enter the floor of the building that was their squadron's.

Detective Y/n takes the suspect in for questioning, while Jake returns to his desk. Snorting.

Peralta sits in his chair so hard that Boyle and Sarge could hear a crash.

The two look at each other, and then look at the younger detective, who was huffing and running his hands over his face as he slid down the chair.

"Hey, you urgently need to tell her how you feel." Terry looks around before approaching Jake and speaking.

Jake, scared, looks at the sergeant without understanding anything.

"Stop pretending. Practically the entire squad knows that you love Y/N deeply." Terry says and Boyle nods.

Peralta grimaces and snorts sarcastically.

"Since when?"

"Since when?" Boyle asks indignantly. "I can name a few events. Well, starting with when you entered the 99, you were chosen instead of her, and what did you do? You said you would only enter the police station if she joined you, because you said she was more brilliant than you and you thought it was unfair. Another one? When you had a bad cold for a week, because you walked more than 10 kilometers to help y/n because her car had broken down" Boyle says and Terry agrees.

"Or the time you skipped a date just to stay with her at the apartment because she's afraid of thunder and you knew there was a big storm coming that morning."

"If this wasn't love, my name isn't Charles Boyle anymore"

"How do you guys know all this?" Jake asks.

"You're so loud that the entire squad knows when a message from her comes in or when there's something related to her. Because you just don't know how to whisper to yourself. Not to mention that it's clear," Terry says with a sigh.

Peralta leans back in his chair and sighs deeply, defeated.

"Okay. You guys win. I'm in love... No, I'm in love. I've loved y/N since I was 10 years old," Peralta confesses. "Damn, we grew up together, we went to the police academy together, we worked together. That woman is an addiction. God, how I love her." He sighs again. "I would give anything to be that man today, just to go out with her."

"Dude. Stop it, say everything you feel and be THE MAN who takes her out," Jefford says.

"It's not that easy"

"How could you not? She literally shows you that she loves you too," Boyle shouts in a whisper, so as not to alert the entire police station.

"Tell me another, Charles. She must love me only as a friend, and you see."

"What I'm saying is true. We all know that you love each other romantically. It's just that you both aren't aware of it."

"I'm with Boyle," Terry agrees.

Jake reflects.

"What now? What should I do?"

"Dude, just tell her how you feel. And if it doesn't work out, I can get you a job at 92," Boyle jokes.

"Ew Charles, on 92?" Jake gags.

"It's just him joking, man. Just tell her, if anything goes wrong we're here and we'll do something. It's going to be okay" Terry consoles, putting his hands on Jake's shoulder.

Peralta smiles at his friends, mentally thanking them for having them in his life.

Then, y/n passes by saying goodbye to them with the phone to her ear, and leaving the police station in a hurry.

"And there she goes my friend, now or never!" Boyle says.

"You're right. I already have the no. What could be worse is losing my best friend and the love of my life at the same time. But hey, just one detail" he smiles sarcastically and grabs his jacket that was on the chair. "Thanks, guys. I love you" he runs off, after the detective who had just passed by.

Well, at the same time that Jake was talking to the boys at the police station, y/n took the suspect to the interrogation room and ended up meeting Diaz and Santiago in the hallway.

"Another inmate today?" Rosa says, as she entered the hidden room that Y/n was in.

"Yeah. I'll just interrogate him and leave for my date." Y/n said weakly as she looked at the detainee with his hands tied sitting in the room, not knowing that he was being watched by three detectives behind the mirror.

"Wow, and you're really going?" Amy asks curiously.

"I'm going, why wouldn't I?" Y/n asks.

"Rosa and I bet you'd stand up the young detective from 95. Like you did the others."

Y/n laughed awkwardly. "Why would I do that?"

"Don't be naive, y/s" Diaz crosses her arms.

"y/n, dear. You canceled the last three dates because Jake needed your help with something. It was either work, helping him when his apartment flooded in the rain, or when he didn't have a ride home."

"But that was unexpected, I was just helping my best friend"

"I'm a great friend of yours, but I'm going to have to say this. Stop being a sly girl." Diaz says impatiently.

Amy and y/n look at each other scared.

"You only skipped the dates because Jake was in trouble and you're in love with him." Y/n opens her mouth to respond, but Rosa continues. "Not really. You love that man. I can tell, the whole squad knows it. You breathe Jake, you exhale Jake, you live for Jake, you're half of Jake. I'm not saying you fuck Jake, because you've never had sex. I think..."

Amy holds back her smile and y/n is so shocked that she holds back her laughter, while listening to her friend's scolding.

"So tell the truth, Y/n! You love that man!"

Y/n crosses her arms, sighing deeply and leaning against the wall. She looks at the girls.

"Yeah, you beat Rosa. I'm totally in love with Jake" Y/n smiles without showing her teeth.

"I've loved Jake since, what? I was 10, 11 years old? Come on guys, I grew up with Jake. Our moms were friends forever, Jake and I were inseparable, we went to the police academy together, every job we've had, the other one was there. Jake is a part of me."

"Why don't you tell him everything you feel? I know it's not easy, but maybe it could release what you've been repressing for years," Amy says.

"I'm with Amy. Tell me everything you feel, these dates of yours never work anyway. Nothing you do will make you forget Jake. Come on girl."

"What if it goes wrong? I lose my best friend and the love of my life. Then I die."

Amy laughs friendly.

"No, you won't die." Rosa says. "And no, you won't get dumped by Jake Peralta. Seriously, this man lives for you and everyone knows it, of course, except you. All the flirting, unnoticed caresses, kindness with bags, car doors and everything else?? There was one time he told me that he canceled a date to stay with you at the apartment, because a storm was coming and you're afraid of thunder. Y/n, grab this man and go to a room, I promise it will be a success." She smiles and crosses her arms satisfied.

Y/n makes a face but smiles.

"Rosa is partly right. Say what you feel, cancel the meeting and talk to Jake. You know that going or not meeting the detective from 95 won't make you get over Jake any faster. The only way to get over Jake is to stay with him," Santiago says, putting a hand on her shoulder. "Go on, Rosa and I will take care of this inmate. Go after your happy ending." Amy smiles and y/n sheds a few tears at her friend's words.

"Okay" y/n wipes her tears. "I don't know what I would do without you guys" She says leaving the room.

"It would be nothing!"

"Rosa!!"

"Sorry"

"I love you guys!" Y/n yells in the hallway before running out and calling the detective to cancel the meeting, and then going to talk to Jake.

Passing by the room where they were, she sees Jake talking to Terry and Boyle, she says a little goodbye to the boys and leaves the police station to cancel the meeting.

With Y/n out of the police station, Jake runs down the stairs to see if he can catch up with her. When the woman takes the phone away from her ear and turns to go back in, Peralta throws the door open, making her lose her balance.

"Whoa, whoa, honey. I got you," he says, his hands on her back.

She smiles embarrassedly.

"Sorry, I think I stepped on your foot with my heel." Y/n looks down and steps out of his arms.

He makes a sign that it was nothing and they remain silent.

"Were you going to meet?" He asks.

"No, I called to cancel"

"Did something happen?"

"No, nothing," she says, looking at the floor, but then gathers her courage. "Okay, actually there is one thing. I was going to look for you-"

Jake's eyes widen.

"Okay. I also need to tell you something, please let me say first that if everything goes wrong I can run away from here"

Y/n laughed. But her heart was pounding inside her chest.

"I've been needing to talk to you about this for a while now, but I didn't know how to start this conversation, because I've always been a great friend of yours-" Jake begins, but Y/n interrupts.

"Jake, I-"

"Please, let me finish, my courage is fading." He says desperately and she smiles at his silly expression. "There's nothing better than letting you know about such a beautiful feeling, and after years, today I came looking for you to talk. I know you can't come here without imagining that I could love you so much. I've always been a great friend of yours, since we were kids, even partners at the police station, we live in the same condominium, we went to the police academy together. We're best friends, inseparable, I've always told you my secrets, but I don't know if that's how it'll be anymore. I've always been a great friend of yours, I'm in love with you. Y/n, I love you. I love you romantically." Peralta finishes speaking and sees that y/n has tears in her eyes. "Just being your friend, it's not going to work anymore."

The detective opens her mouth to say something, but all that comes out is.

"Jake"

"I know, it's okay. That was very random and suddenly, you're confused, you don't feel the same. It's okay, I can change jobs so you can feel more at ease..."

"Jake" y/n smiles.

"...Boyle said he can get me a job at 92. I know it's disgusting there, but anything to make you comfortable." He rambles.

"JAKE!" She screams and the detective can't shut up, until she decides to do the job herself.

Y/n approaches Jake and makes the man stay quiet, while passionately kissing Peralta's lips.

At first, Jake is startled by the act, but when he realizes that it is an answer, and it is a YES, he relaxes and delights in the woman's arms. His hand lovingly passes from her waist to her things, while y/n, has her arms hanging around his neck, stroking the man's hair.

Their separation only came when they were short of breath, but this caused their foreheads to be stuck together.

"And what's the answer?" Jake jokes.

"Shut up." Y/n laughs. "You know the answer. But I say yes, I love you too. Since I was 11, you brat." She says making Jake smile.

"I think if I kept this feeling to myself any longer, I would combust." Jake makes an exploding head gesture.

Y/n laughs, looking into the man's brown eyes.

"Gosh, how I love you. And it feels so freeing to say that to you." She smiles.

"I love you so much," Jake says again, pulling her into a passionate hug.

"The squad already knows, right?" Y/n whispers.

"You know. Boyle said it was evident on our faces."

"Rosa too," she replies. "But I said the squad already knows, it's because Amy and Gina don't know how to disguise that they're hiding behind the curtain on the 10th floor." Y/n looks up, trying to be discreet.

They pull out of the hug and look up. Waving to the guys.

"IT'S ALL RIGHT GUYS. WE'RE GETTING MARRIED TOMORROW!" Jake yells, with an arm around Y/n's waist.

People scream in celebration.

"Stop it, you liar," she scolds. "IT'S HIS LIE," she shouts, making the crowd snort sadly.

"Want to come in? It's freezing out here," Jake says.

"Come on, before the guy from 95 hears my voicemail and comes to make a scene with you."

"What did you say to him?"

"I said I was in love with you and that I was going to tell you how I felt."

"Oh my God, you're in love with me?" Jake feigns surprise.

"You're so funny. I should lie and say I feel this way about you. It's all fake, it was a prank." Y/n jokes.

"Love me too much for that" Jake hugs her from the corner and kisses her temple.

They take the elevator in comfortable silence.

"So, you mean you would go to 92 if I said I didn't love you romantically and that you would quit your job just to see me comfortable?" Y/n asks.

"Yes," Jake says, making Y/n smile and almost explode with love. "But not to 92. It's disgusting there, seriously."

"No, no. I really wouldn't let you go there." They make disgusted faces together and step out of the elevator when it stops.

Author: I need to say two things. First, my question box and chat are open for requests and second, I love writing inspired by music, If you want, you can do it and leave here at the end the songs that inspired the story.

Another thing, I realized after days of writing this story. I ended up changing the captain's name to "Bolt" instead of "Holt" 🤣🤣 If there is this error in the story, ignore it hahaha too big to review.