#might have a test this week or next but its take home open book etc so its nbd

[lapdogchase]

>go to library to do schoolwork >go on the internet >theres posts

well fuck. how am i supposed to work under these conditions. i have to look at posts

[greenninjagal-blog]

Loop Number Three Hundred Twelve

Hello who wants a quick one shot about Time Loops!

Summary: Patton is having a really bad day, and Virgil and Janus might just have a fix. He just wishes he found them three hundred loops ago.

Word Count: 5453

Quick Taglist: @alias290 @chelsvans @coyboi300 @dante-reblogs @dwbh888 @glitchybina @faithfulcat111 @felicianoromano @harrypotternerdprincess @holliberries @jemthebookworm @killerfangirl3 @mrbubbajones  @musical-nerd18 @nonasficcollection @stricken-with-clairvoyancy @the-sunshine-dims @themagicheartmailman @themultishipperchild @thenaiads @treasureofpriam @vianadraws @welovelogansanders  

Read on AO3 || My General Writing Masterlist

Janus is folding origami snakes when Virgil finds him. 

Which, in itself, is not new or unusual. Janus has been making origami creatures since before Virgil had ever met him: cutting perfect squares of papers, folding along invisible lines, creating something new from the boringness. Some people like making tiny stars, but Janus turns squares of paper into pocket sized friends. Some of Virgils’s favorite presents are books in which he found little purple and gold paper spiders tucked between the pages, or the cranes that he unfolded to find little sweet and sappy messages for him, or when he was emptying out his school bag and found butterflies hidden in the depths, left there with care and love and waiting to be discovered on a rainy day.

Janus folds origami and Virgil keeps every single one he’s ever gotten his hands on-- sometimes even going as far as to dig the few Janus recycled out of the bin and keep them in his collection.

So the origami isn’t necessarily new or weird or confusing. 

Finding him behind the school building, cutting class to fold them is.

Janus is, despite his outward appearance and his claims to the otherwise, a huge nerd. Virgil finds that adorable about him: the way he gets excited to go to school and learn something new, the bounce in his step when he was heading towards his psychology class, the rumbling of his words when he forgot to take a breath while describing history to him. He’s a nerd who reads autobiographies with crappy romance novel covers strapped on them and begs Virgil to watch the new Netflix documentaries with him.

When they had been seven, Janus had been very adamant about being a host on the History Channel. Virgil had been interested as long as he got to be the guy that went out and found Mothman to invite on to Janus’s show. 

(Sometimes Virgil finds himself missing the simplicity of being seven-years-old and knowing what he wants to do with his life.)

Still Janus isn’t the type to cut class usually. Playing hookie was Virgil’s game, not his. But Janus hadn’t shown up to meet him outside his locker at the break between their classes, and Virgil had made the decision that locating Janus took priority over Personal Finance. 

 Its nice outside, far nicer than it has any right to be. The sun is shining, with just enough heat to make Virgil consider taking off his jacket (he doesn’t), a breeze carries through the air playing with his bangs, and the bells had just rang so everyone is in class and not outside. There’s barely any noise out here: a zombie apocalypse  picturesque scene. It used to unnerve him, but now it just gives him peace of mind.

Behind the school is his fifth place to check, right behind: the far corner of the library that Janus likes to power nap in during lunch, the stairwell to the roof that is supposed to be locked but they’d jimmied open last year, Janus’s actual class where his seat was empty and several kids glanced at Virgil as he had scurried by, and the parking lot where Virgil checked to make sure that Janus hadn’t just driven away and left him in this hell alone without even a text message goodbye. 

Janus is, in fact, still at the school, sitting in grass against the wall of the school that faces the parking lot. If Virgil hadn’t been looking for him, he might have mistaken him for a dark shrub or the Art Club's newest modern art installation. His bag is next to him, half his books spilling out into the lawn and at least a whole tree’s worth of folded paper around him. The piles of origami snakes remind Virgil of noodles, a mixture of colors and then twice as many in just plain white. 

“Hey,” Virgil says, approaching slowly in case this is one of those times when Janus wants to be alone more than he wants to feel alone. 

Janus folds another crease with the edge of his thumb nail and throws his sloppily made friend into the pile with the others. There’s a stack of pre-cut paper next to him, but it's all loose leaf paper. Which meant that he had folded his way through his stash of actual origami colored paper, which meant that he had been doing this since a lot longer than before second block, like Virgil feared.

Janus sighs thumping his head back against the brick walls and picks up another sheet. Virgil takes that as a sign to sit down next to him. He drops his bag off at his feet and reaches around the assortment of pins (Xmen, Marvel, gay flag, banned books week, one from a video game he liked the art of but had never played, etc) to unzip the smallest pocket. He pulls out another stack of the thin paper in an assortment of colors and places it on top of Janus’s current stack.

“So,” Virgil says, picking a snake off the ground. “Wanna talk about it?”

Janus flips the snake over and begins the process of folding the tail, ruthlessly. “Do I want to talk about it,” He echoes sourly, pressing each fold like it was a matter of life and death. “No, I do not want to talk about it. Because its stupid and a waste of time and I shouldn’t care but I still do and you have so many better things to do than listen to me whine about Patton Hart, yet again!”

Janus folds the head down and then stars into the empty eyes with a glare.

Virgil points his own snake at Janus and wiggles it a bit, “If its bothering you this much, then it can’t be stupid. And besides I love hearing about how much you hate Patton Hart. What did he do this time?”

“I don’t hate…” Janus lets out a sigh, “He didn’t do anything. In fact he didn’t even show up to class today. I heard a couple sophomores say he was acting funny earlier so I assume he went home early.”

Virgil frowns at that, trying to think back to the morning. He’d been running late and preoccupied with a Spanish test that he had forgotten he had first block, but he does remember seeing Roman and Patton in the halls. They hadn’t been holding hands like usual, which is probably why it stuck in Virgil’s head. They were the most lovey-dovey couple in the whole school: holding hands, kissing, flamboyant declarations of love... Virgil has nightmares about the way that Roman had asked Patton to Prom Junior year and had made Janus swear that if he ever plans on taking Virgil to a dance, he wouldn’t do it with glitter, the marching band, and in front of the whole school.

Patton had also looked different, Virgil remembers. Less cheery, more despondent. He had a smile on his face, but it looked forced and his eyes were glazed over like he wasn’t listening to anything at all.

Which, okay, fair. Roman tended to say the same things every day but phrased them differently. There were really only oh-so-many ways to say the words “I love you” and Roman had used up all of them in freshman year.

“So he wasn’t there,” Virgil says, shrugs, and takes a moment of silence to hope that Patton is getting some well needed sleep: Patton is one of those guys that just...finds a way to be involved with everything. Bake sales, choir, poetry club, talent show, office runner, treasurer of the student council-- if there’s something anyone needs to get done, Patton probably can do it. Not to mention he’s the nicest person Virgil has ever met. He honestly sees the good in people and its a shame that he’s dating Roman, because otherwise he and Janus would have invited him into their relationship a while ago.

(Roman isn’t exactly someone Janus or Virgil could stand on a weekly basis, much less daily. Virgil is pretty sure if Roman ever tried any romantic shit that he pulls on Patton, on Virgil he’ll spontaneously combust. Janus gets hives from being in close proximity to the gooey lovefest that Roman brings around any time he opens his mouth. And of course, Roman isn’t the type to share anything.)

((Ninety percent of their relationship these days is locking eyes while Roman did something and fake gagging like the mature adults they were.))

“What’s the big de--” Virgil stops, “Wait, isn’t debate today?”

“And take a guess who was my partner,” Janus summarizes. He tosses the snake to the ground and picks up another sheet of paper. “He...The Dragon Witch immediately failed me because he didn’t….and I couldn’t…”

He messes up the fold because his fingers are shaking too much. Virgil gently reaches out and takes the paper from his fingertips. It floats down to join the other snakes, and Virgil gives Janus’s hands a squeeze. 

There’s a welt of anger in his chest, bubbling up in a nice simmer. He hates the Dragon Witch, although he’s never had her class or even knows her real name (Roman had coined the title in freshman year back when he had been a benchwarmer for the football team and it had caught on until the whole school used it). She’s known for being generally awful to every student that came in, a little unhinged, and even her own daughter-- a girl in the grade below them-- agrees that nobody wants to be in her class. Unfortunately, despite the many protests held by small pockets of students, the Dragon Witch has tenure and the school board’s stance is “if it isn’t broken, don’t fix it”. Ergo, she still lives on this plane of existence and Virgil thinks about egging her car often. Probably too often.

“Its stupid,” Janus repeats and the cavity where Virgil’s heart should be aches a little for him, “I know she’s had it out for me. Ever since that first day when I pointed out all the books on the syllabus were written by rich white men. But it was just… I felt really good about this one, Vee.” 

Virgil knows this. Janus had been practically vibrating since the assignment had been given out. He’d gone above and beyond with his research for the topic-- something about selflessness that had gone straight over Virgil’s head when Janus had been talking about it. Patton hadn’t even been that bad of a partner, Janus had said, despite never having time to practice for it. They had exchanged numbers and texted details and notes to one another all week.

If Virgil hadn’t spent most of the afternoons lying next to Janus playing League of Legends and listening to Janus’s black pen scratch out preparation notes, he might have been jealous of how much attention Janus had been giving Patton. (and vise versa.)

“We were going to win,” Janus says softly. “And then Patton decided to just not show the fuck up! Why can’t I count on anyone but you? Why must I suffer in a world full of idiots?”

“Hey, at least he’s cute,” Virgil says.

“At least he’s cute,” Janus agrees, resignedly. “Do you think he’s going to break up with Roman?”

Virgil shrugs, “Do you want to ask him to join us if he does?”

“I would never pass up an opportunity to spite Roman like that,” Janus says, which is actually code for “I would never pass up an opportunity to dote on Patton and Virgil, do you think he’ll let us paint his nails, I have the perfect shade of blue to match his shoelaces--” 

(They’ve had this conversation at least once every season since Janus had caught Virgil sighing at the smaller boy in the halls midway through freshman year.)

Janus wiggles his hands from Virgil’s and picks up the unfinished snake but its softer now, less angry and more care. When he completes it, he points it at Virgil and offers a guilty half smile.

“Sorry for making you miss class.” 

Virgil wants to laugh because really that was the last thing on his mind right now. He shuffles through the snakes on the ground picking out his favorites to add to his collection. “Nah, its cool. You can just do my taxes and budgeting in the future and we’ll call it even. What are you gonna do with all of these?”

Janus hums, looking at all of them, “Maybe we can hide them around school to confuse people.”

“Can we write “you’re next” in a red pen on the inside of them?” Virgil asks with a grin, “like some horror movie shit?”

“Whatever you desire, darling,” Janus says and Virgil is incredibly grateful that he’s in love with his best friend. Virgil doesn’t usually count himself as lucky, but Janus had to be some kind of miracle: a person who understood Virgil the way that no one else ever bothered to. Janus has the type of laughter that makes everyone else want to laugh as well, the type of smile that begs for mischief, the type of loyalty that reassures Virgil no matter what happens they have each other’s backs.

Also he’s pretty, and Virgil likes staring at pretty things.

Janus leans forward and gives him a peck on his cheek. “Thank you.”

“You missed,” Virgil says with a stupid ass smile, because he’s stupidly in love and wouldn’t have it any other way.

Janus rolls his eyes very fondly and leans in again, until Virgil can see every shade of brown and green in his mismatched eyes, until he can feel Janus’s breath on his face, until Virgil loses track of the nanometers between them. Virgil’s eyes are half closed already, anticipating how the rest of their newly established free time is going to be spent and not feeling a speck of embarrassment or guilt about it--

And then he sees the movement out of the corner of his eyes and freezes up. He’s certain without looking that it is a teacher and oh god they were going to get expelled for something. There’s too much stuff around them-- their bags, the millions of snakes, their own bodies-- and even if they left everything there they’d surely get found out from that stuff, and then the school would call his mom and Virgil did not want to have that conversation with her again. 

But then he does look and its not a teacher at all. Virgil blinks, once, twice to make sure he’s seeing things correctly.

“Virgil?” Janus says, still several centimetres away from kissing him and obviously aware of how Virgil had tensed to high hell.

“I thought you said that Patton went home sick,” Virgil says absently.

Janus sits back, following his line of sight to the corner of the building where-- sure enough-- Patton Hart was walking without a care in the entire world. He was dressed differently today than Virgil remembered him ever dressing: the memories of his polo and his cardigan give way to the reality of sweatpants and a soft sweater that cannot be comfortable in the heat of the day. Virgil tries to remember if that’s what Patton had been wearing earlier and… yeah it was. From this distance Virgil can’t tell the look on his face, but he doesn’t look like he’s worried at all.

He’s walking with a purpose. And that purpose looks angry. 

“Does Patton have a car?” Janus asks.

“I don’t...think so…” Virgil says tracking Patton’s progress across the lawn.

“Then who’s keys does he have in his hand?” Janus says not entirely rhetorical.

With barely a nod between the two of them, they scoop all the paper snakes into Virgil’s bag and take off after him.

Its extremely weird, Virgil thinks. Because its so quiet that their footsteps sound like slaps, and they have to duck around a red truck to avoid Patton’s glance back. Janus crouches delicately, slinking between the cars and Virgil wastes a moment watching how gracefully he moves. 

He’s like water flowing, controlled and effortless and an undercurrent of power. Virgil doesn’t doubt his ability to fight right this moment, doesn’t doubt his killer left hook, or his dirty fighting tactics that Janus picked up in the name of self defense and preservation. Virgil’s body hums with adrenaline as he watches Janus follow after Patton.

He leans against a jeep that doesn’t actually have a parking pass but no one’s complained about it and Janus peeks around the bummer to see where Patton was heading.

For a second, Virgil thought he was going after Janus’s car-- the little gold mazada 3 thats a year and a half old and a gift from his parents. He’s just about to yell, to scream, to ward Patton off, because it was already shitty of him to not show up to the debate, but touching Janus’s car? That’s like super assholeish and Virgil has never once wanted to call Patton an asshole.

Janus, however, is quicker and covers his mouth with his hand. “Look, I think...he’s crying,”

“What?” Virgil whispers, squinting-- oh shit, he should probably get an appointment to update his contacts soon -- and Patton is crying. Its the silent type of crying that's born from using a smile to hide the hurt too much and Virgil immediately decides that Patton doesn’t deserve that ever. He feels each one of those tears like a punch to the gut, each soft barely audible gasp like a knee to his jaw, each sniffle like an elbow to the back of his head.

Patton storms past Janus’s car and goes straight to the fiery red Prius that Roman (and his twin Remus) share.

“Oh my god,” Virgil breathes at the same time as Patton takes the blade of a key to the side of the car.

The noise is awful. Janus flinches curling into Virgil as they watch with morbid fascination: Patton doesn’t waver, doesn’t hesitate as he carves deep into the paint and the metal, perfecting each and every letter.

By the time he’s finished, he’s bawling big fat crocodile tears that soak all turn all his cheeks puffy and soak the collar of his sweater and Virgil’s stomach is a twisted knot of emotions he doesn’t know what to do with.

“FUCK OFF” written on the side of Roman’s car explains things very well, anyway.

Patton drops the keys on the ground and then follows after in such a dead weight fall that Virgil feels the shockwaves from where he is. He curls in on himself, sobbing horrible, gut-wrenching howls of pain.

Janus leaps around Virgil to run after him, and Virgil only stumbles slightly trying to come with him. 

“I didn’t…” Janus says, loudly--loud enough to make Patton jump and Virgil flinch and the empty parking lot feel crowded, “I didn’t know you were into Modern Art, Patton.”

Virgil thinks that if it were any other situation, he might have snorted. But when Patton turns to them with his blue eyes so full of tears that Virgil thinks he might drown in them, he forgets every other thought he has had.

Its just...rage.

“I’ll kill him.”

And Virgil means it, the same way he says that the sky is blue, or that he won't take off his sweatshirt, that he loves Janus with all his soul. He means that he will go right back into that building and search through every single fucking classroom until he finds wherever Roman spends his third class of the day and then he’ll drag him out to the parking lot by his stupid perfect hair and run him over a couple hundred times.

Virgil will go to jail for manslaughter and he wouldn’t even feel sorry.

Patton lets out a shuddering sob and frantically tries to wipe away his ugly tears, making noises that Virgil assumes are meant to be words but they come out scrambled and grated and wrong. And Patton who’s never done a single mean thing in all the time that Virgil has known of him, does not deserve to feel a hurt that bad. How dare Roman make him feel a pain that bad.

Virgil rolls up his sleeves and spins on his heel to go take care of the issue-- but Janus catches him by his hood and yanks him back.

“Patton,” Janus says softly (a tone that's normally reserved for two AM sleepovers and lazy saturday movie marathons and sad boi hours that come and go like the seasons), “What can we do?”

Patton lets out a shriek, and when he looks back up there’s no sadness. Its a fury, an anger, its frustration that boiled into a suffocating gas and Virgil guess that he’s not going to need to end Roman’s life because Patton is perfectly capable of doing himself.

“You can shut the hell up!” Patton screams, “And Leave me the fuck alone!”

Virgil and Janus share a look.

And well...Virgil has been breaking rules since he was a kid and Janus isn’t the type of follow orders simply because. Without discussing anything they both sit down next to Patton, and Virgil starts pulling out the origami paper again.

“What are you doing?” Patton hisses in a way that Virgil has never once seen him do. His fingers shake, but he keeps himself calm and cool and collected.

“Its called origami,” Janus says, although he knows very well that’s not what Patton was asking. Virgil watches his fingers flick in the air, a mesmerizing dance that once Patton looks at he couldn’t look away from. 

Patton’s tears drop, his face is still puffy and dangerous, but Janus says nothing about it. Virgil holds his breath and watches as Janus folds, unfolds, pinches, twists the paper into a jumping frog. He sets it out on his palm and lets Patton stare at it like it holds the secrets of the universe.

“I like making things when I get upset,” Janus says. “Would you like me to teach you?”

“I…” Patton sniffles, rubbing away his tears again. He sounds so small and insignificant that Virgil wants to wrap his arms around him and protect him from everything. “Why…?”

“I know how to do many animals,” Janus continues on, “frogs, snakes, spiders, cranes… Or we can just fold paper in any way we want to, too.”

Patton is silent. Janus picks up another piece of paper and begins folding it in half. There’s a breeze through the parking lot, colder than before, bitter and smarting. Virgil tugs the sleeves of his jacket over his hands and tries not to wonder what happened to the sun. 

“The motion is calming to me,” Janus explains, “I like the creation of something new and different, the repetition--”

There’s a huff.

A snort.

And then...well then Patton is laughing a terribly wet, mean laugh. Janus pauses halfway through folding the head of the frog to make sure Patton hasn't been replaced by a skinwalking alien wearing Patton’s face, and Virgil can’t really blame him at all. The small boy kneels over laughing so hard he ends up gasping for breath and Virgil shivers at how the noise steals all the warmth from the air.

“Fucking stupid,” Patton manages, through gasps that sound suspiciously like whimpers. “Everything is so fucking stupid.” 

“I see someone taught the five-year-old a new swear word,” Janus says. “Who was it? Remus?”

“Just go away, Janus,” Patton says, laying his head on the asphalt.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Janus tuts finishing off his second frog, “You really don’t know where that piece of road has been.”

“Actually I do!” Patton bolts upright, “I do know! Its been right here! Its been here no matter what’s happened, never moving, never changing, and even if I marked it with chalk or paint or took a jackhammer to it or blew it the fuck up it will still be here when I wake up tomorrow! Now fuck off!”

Virgil blinks, tilting his head to the side ever so slightly. 

“I am learning so many things about you today, Patton,” Janus says without missing a beat. He picks up another sheet of paper, “You’re into modern art, you’re passionate about parking lots...my, my, my. Perhaps we should have done our debate on road construction instead. Would you have bothered to show up then?”

“Like it matters.” Patton says, even more unlike himself. Virgil thinks he’s seen Patton overbook himself for commitments more times than he can count and apologies are nearly always coupled with food of some sort: cookies, fudge, pasta salad. Sometimes even to things he never even said he could be there for. Patton is more apologetic than Virgil ever has been, and Virgil likes to apologize for existing.

But here is a Patton, or a version of him, that seems so defeated, so angry, so sad and upset and miserable that he’s just...given up. Consequences be damned.

“We lose,” Patton says looking up at the sky, “We lose because Mrs. Hydrus hates you, Janus, and so she makes us do it without any notes, then every time you stumble, she interrupts and asks for clarification despite being the moderator, and she cuts down our time by a whole minute. And when you say anything back to her she sends you to the principal's office and gives us a zero for the assignment, anyway. We lose. But its fine because you never remember anyway and then you get to wake up and be humiliated all over again. And it doesn’t matter what I do! Okay? We lose!”

Janus stops folding his frog and turns to look directly at Patton. Virgil is too, and he can scarcely breathe.

“What did you just say?”

Patton turns to face him swiping away another round of tears. “Go ahead, Virgil! You’re just like everyone else. Go and call me c-crazy! Tell me I’m insane! T-take me to the doctors! Whatever! I’m so t-tired of this and I can’t even die.”

Virgil swallows hard. There’s a lump in the back of his throat, a lump that’s growing until he can barely breathe around it. Janus brings a hand up to his mouth like he might be sick right there on the concrete. 

“Patton…” Virgil breathes. “Are you a paper frog?”

Patton stares at him like he’s stupid so Virgil reaches out with shaky hands and picks up one of the finished frogs from the ground. He carefully unfolds it, piece-by-piece, until its back to the original square. Then he holds it up for Patton to see, and begins to refold it the way that Janus had.

“Are you,” Virgil asks, “being refolded like a paper frog?”

Patton’s face says everything.

“H-how,” Janus asks, “how many times?”

The other boy blinks long and slow and sniffles. “I-I don’t know. Around three hundred twelve? Maybe? I lost count so long ago.”

“Three hundred twel--” Virgil repeats, “Holy shit, Pat! That’s almost a year.”

“Why didn’t you come to us?” Janus asks, although they all know why really. Despite them being debate partners, Patton and Janus don’t talk. Janus and Virgil admire him from afar, and only talk to him in passing. For the longest time Virgil didn’t even know if Patton knew his name, and now they’re sitting here wondering why strangers would ever interact with one another?

“What about…” Virgil motions to the car, the keys, the fun words written in the red paint.

Patton shakes his head so hard his body trembles. “He doesn’t...he never...I tried so so hard but its so much easier to leave him be. It takes so much to convince him and then… then its not a true love’s kiss solution.”

Virgil’s gut twists just thinking about that. About how many times that Roman made him prove that he had seen everything before, and then for a kiss not to work when they both were head over heels in love with each other and then waking up again, convincing Roman again, then telling him the kiss didn’t work? Virgil could guess it didn’t go over well at all. 

Knowing Roman it had probably dissolved into a “we’re not meant for each other?”, followed by a “i will always love you no matter what.” , and finished with a “If it will save you from this loop then we’ll have to break up”.

From the sight of the keys on the ground, Virgil can guess how far it went this time.

“I do love him,” Patton says almost desperately. “I do, I do, I do! I swear I love him so much--”

Janus puts a hand on Patton’s shoulder and he falls silent immediately. “I believe you,” Janus says, “I’ve seen the way you look at him, Patton. No one here thinks that the two of you aren’t perfect for each other.”

Its a pain to admit because its friendzoning both of them right now, but Virgil would weather that if it meant Patton wouldn’t sound so heartbroken. Janus meets his eyes over Patton’s shoulder and gives him a nod. At least they’re on the same page for this.

“Three hundred twelve time loops,” Virgil says, “does not sound like it was fun at all.”

“Are any loops fun?” Janus asks.

“Fruit loops are fun,” Patton sniffles again. He rubs his eyes and hunches over in his sweatshirt. “Do you guys...do you guys really believe me?”

Janus’s lips curve into a wry smile, “Patton in all the time that I can remember, I’ve never seen you have the guts to key someone’s car. And now you’re saying fuck? And telling me off? That's a whole lot of character development to happen without me noticing, unless it was a time loop.”

Patton giggles, just a bit. It's still weepy but it makes Virgil feel like he can breathe for the first time. 

“Don’t worry, Pat,” Virgil says, “We’ll figure this thing out.” 

“H-how?” 

Janus sighed leaning back a little, “Well we could ask Logan.”

“Logan?” Virgil echoes, “you mean Remus’s boyfriend? You think he’s got something?”

Janus shrugs, “He is a witch.” 

“A what now?” Virgil says. “Since when was he a witch! You never told me that!” 

Janus grins sheepishly, and rubs the back of his neck, “I forgot? I love you?”

Virgil blows a raspberry at him. “Just like how I’m gonna forget to mention you when I find Mothman. But I love you, too.”

“Its a cruel love, this thing we have.” Janus says rather poetically and Virgil reaches over to shove his shoulder. Janus laughs sways so he falls onto Patton’s shoulder. Patton for his part smiles, bright and blinding and it takes both their breaths away when he laughs again.

Virgil can’t imagine having to redo the same day twice, much less three hundred times. He wonders vaguely if Patton has any idea how strong he is, how amazing, how inspiring he is to keep that glow inside himself despite everything.

He’s smile fades for a moment and he perks up all of a sudden. “Oh My Gosh! Logan’s a witch!” He makes a flurry of arm movements that forces Virgil to duck, “Oh my gosh that means--!!”

“Deep breaths, dear,” Janus suggests, although it goes ignored.

“Yesterday--like actually yesterday, your yesterday, not the last loop, Logan and Remus got into an argument over a bottle and I thought it was gatorade! Remus was trying to drink it but Logan wouldn’t let him and they ended up spilling it on the floor! I helped them keep it up but I got a little bit on my hand! I didn’t think too much of it but what if it was like some sort of potion?”

Janus considers it, “Hmmm, its a good starting place. Let’s go ask him what it was.” He stands up and offers a hand down to Patton and Virgil each. Virgil takes it and turns back to also offer his own hand to the smaller boy. 

“Come on, Hart, this is going to be your last loop.” Janus says.

Patton stares at their hands almost as if he was afraid to take them. He glances down at the origami frogs, at the keys, and their bags, then back up at them with an fearful expression. “You...you promise?”

Virgil laughs, “Yeah, we got you, Pat. Promise.”

Patton shakes from head to toe, but he grabs both their hands and smiles like he has hope for the first time in three hundred twelve days.

[astralishq]

– ♡ event 002. FOR FAME AND GLORY ( pt. 1 )

The Annual Highwinds Tournament is now open!

Test your mettle against the strongest, the cleverest and the swiftest Fae 

 Prove your worth to the High Courts of Astralis, and become a legend

➤ THE BASICS

The Autumn Court, in an effort to affirm their status as a powerful Court after an early blow against their people, have decided to continue with one of their oldest and most cherished traditions. The Highwinds Tournament is a yearly event hosted on their lands, where in true Autumn spirit, Fae and humans alike congregate to decide who among them is the most illustrious through a series of competitions and events. Overseen by the High Lord of Autumn, the highly-anticipated games of skill, strength, and wit are seen as the height of sportsmanship within Astralis.

Many have attributed these friendly matches to the lasting peace between the Courts, and Autumn takes great pride in its role as a mediator. However, this year’s tournament is rife with tension, and there are more than a few rumours going about that this competition will devolve into something worse. However, the lure of lucrative awards and fresh gossip have nobility and commoners alike flocking to the eastern Court, for the Highwinds Tournament is a most welcome distraction from more troubling developments elsewhere.

➤ ACTIVITIES AND AMENITIES OFFERED

Some of the amenities offered at this week-long event will include. . .

- An all-participants-welcome dueling tournament, where ambitious warriors and mages seek to put their skills to the test against Astralis’ finest. The tournament will go on the full duration of the festival, offering many opportunities for the lowborn to catch the eye of a prospective sponsor, and for nobles to establish their reputations among their kin. The prize for the winner is a substantial one- thousands of gold coins and an enchanted artifact of repute, to be presented at the conclusion of the finals.

- Competitions of all manner will be available at this event, including contests of archery, horseback-riding, hunting, magecraft, and aerial races through the steep valleys around the Highwinds Glen. Autumn officials, with representative oversight from the ally courts of Spring and Winter, will see to the fairness of these events.

- The main event of the Highwinds Tournament is known as the Trials of Oberon, allegedly named after the first High Laird of Autumn who was known as an individual of exceptional talent. This is a contest that is not for the faint of heart, for it will have participants test their might against ferocious beasts, head-scratching puzzles, and the final task: an enchanted maze where life-threatening danger lurks around every corner. Each Court has volunteered a challenge for this maze courtesy of their kingdom to test the character, wit, and strength of the champions. To win the Trials is to be considered one of the highest honors to be found in Astralis.

- Guest lodgings have all been booked out for the week, in homely inns and in sprawling estates all over Autumn. Expect loud, crowded, but hospitable lodgings and close encounters with strangers from across the Courts. Those with more amourous inclinations, however, will not find a lack of private alcoves and cabins for their leisurely use.

- The Highwinds Glen, an already vibrant and excitable city, has pulled out all the stops for this renowned tournament. City-wide feasting and full taverns are expected, and the streets will find themselves home to some of the finest buskers available. Guest may also expect to find more than a few ‘unofficial’ gambling operations throughout these taverns, particularly in the form of unsanctioned fights between commoners looking to make quick coin.

➤ CELEBRATING OUR CHAMPIONS

This is Astralis HQ’s first ever “two leg” event. At the end of the festivities, there will be a grand ball to celebrate the victors from each Court and the sportsmanship of Astralis uniting for the Highwinds Tournament. Participants from the Trials of Oberon will be given special favor from the High Rulers for surpassing and engaging in their intricate challenges. This portion of the weeklong celebration will be announced by the admins as we gear up for part two of the event. Part one is strictly for the festivities leading up to the grand ball.

➤ THE HUMAN RESISTANCE’S ROLE

The human resistance has made quite a name for themselves over the past few months, and any information leading to their capture, especially in the Autumn Court, offers a lucrative award to the informant. However, the resistance has no intention of remaining idle during such a prominent tournament. A few agents have entered as participants in the gladitorial battles, determined to prove their mettle in a public setting. However, this is mostly a ruse, for the real threat lurks among the nameless, faceless servants supporting the event. 

- ̗̀  FREQUENTLY ASKED QUESTIONS

➤ CAN I CONTINUE MY NON-EVENT THREADS DURING THE EVENT?

This event is mandatory to participate in--either as a participant, a spectator, or as a representative of their Court. While the event is going on, we do ask that you only start fresh, event-related threads and make them a priority. Inclusivity is also a huge factor in propelling an event forward, so be sure you’re plotting with a wide range of muns for this event!

➤ HOW LONG WILL THE EVENT LAST FOR?

As of right now, the event is set to start on Wednesday, February 3rd, at 9 AM EST and last for approximately three weeks. The first part of the event will end on Wednesday, February 24th at 11:59 PM EST. After this, the group will go on a 4 day activity break to prepare for the second leg of this epic event, during which time the group’s next plot drop will be put into effect. The second half of the event will last from March 1st to March 15th. More information regarding start times for the second leg of this event will be posted in the coming weeks.

➤ WHAT SHOULD I BE TAGGING POSTS WITH?

As of right now, you should not be posting anything (outfits or otherwise) until the start of the event. When you begin posting outfits, starters, threads, etc., we ask that you use ahqevent2 and NOT ahqevent. Feel free to tag the @ahqstart sideblog for all open starters you post for the event, bearing in mind that the same starter rules will apply once there’s more than 4-5 open event-related starters in the tag.

➤ WHAT WILL THE TRIALS OF OBERON BE FROM SPECIFIC COURTS?

As referenced above, the Trials of Oberon will have a final, maze-style task that has been curated by the different High Rulers of various Courts throughout Astralis. For the Courts that currently have taken High Rulers, said High Rulers may choose to post their portion of the challenging task as a musing on their character blog if they so wish! If you have any questions, comments, or concerns regarding this, leaders, please feel free to reach out to your admin team! It is not a requirement component for our High Rulers, but is definitely encouraged to help you engage with the tasks!

[blacksunscorpio]

How to Survive Mercury Retrograde in Pisces

Welcome to retrograde season, team. in 2 days, Mercury goes retrograde at 12°53' in Pisces to be exact. Now, retrogrades usually breed a certain amount of panic and understandably so., but this retrograde falls into the sentimental and some could even argue the overly sentimental sign of Pisces. 

So let's break this down, shall we?

Pisces, the fishes (Think Tui and La from Avatar) are ruled by Neptune, the Latin name for Poseidon, god of the sea, dreams, illusions, etc. Mercury rules Virgo and Gemini, hence Mercury does not feel at home in such an emotional and watery sign. Mercury is in its fall. It prefers the critical and airy signs that it’s used to and at 29 degrees (the last decan of the constellation before it moves on to the next) it’s in a hurry to finish things up. In layman’s terms? There’ll be a sense of intense urgency for the next two weeks.

So what else can we expect during this celestial backspin?

Welp, with Mercury Retrograde in Pisces, this creates mental and emotional confusion, with strange erratic dreams and maybe even some psychic experiences. Mercury rules the [rational] mind and thoughts while Neptune ruler of Pisces lords over the unconscious. The subconscious. Addled states of being (so careful with your alcohol intake around this time or overindulging with drugs in general.)

Your mental processes will have a tendency to become merged with emotions and you might find it hard to separate ideas and opinions from your idealism. You feel as if things are unfolding behind-the-scenes but are not yet clear what they are.

So here’s what to look out for in general:

Sleeping patterns (as we mentioned), communication, and travel plans may be thrown off during this time.

People from the past may be reappearing sooner than expected and bringing with them Emmy winning displays of emotion and drama thanks to the Piscean influence. Don’t trip off this one too much, sometimes this means you could receive that ever-elusive closure you never got.

With upcoming Mercury retrograding in Aries (ruled by Mars, god of war), periods of combative attitudes are heightened as well as impulsive decision-making.

I cannot stress this enough: THINK before you speak.

Deceptive people will swarm like roaches ESPECIALLY with Neptune in Pisces. People show you their true colors so you know who needs to be removed from your life.

Arguments are more prone at this time..

Pretty cut and dry, right? If not, here’s what each of the signs should be aware of specifically during this watery transit.

Aries – Hello my fiery brothers and sisters. Take this time to relax, think things through and watch your tongue. I know it’s hard with our ruling planet being Mars and all but you would not want anything you say now to follow you through the remainder of your birthday season. Mercury retrograde is aiding you in redefining your emotional boundaries and making concise decisions on what to take into the next year of your life��just in time, too, because Aries SZN starts on the 20th, just a week before the retrograde ends. But do take a break from people who have been exhausting you, you don’t have to apologize for taking care of you. Chill.

Taurus – You might suffer from miscommunicating with friends and family members or just everyone in your radius. Or maybe it's just that no one gets how awesome your thoughts are. Either way, be as clear as possible with those around you so that you don’t get annoyed with the world. Mercury retrograde is testing your emotional capacity to open up. Testing your ability to refrain from being judgmental. Try being a little more accepting.

Gemini – You might be frustrated since no one seems to get your ideas but this will prove to be a fruitful period of time for you. Mercury in daydreamy Pisces fills your head with ideas of what could be and where you want to go in life, but you struggle to fit these dreams into reality. The good thing is, you’re trying. And A-for-effort, you little genius. Accept your status as the wise one amongst friends, school or even work. Mercury gives you some much-needed insight while everyone seems to be out-of-whack.

Cancer – Yeah, this bad boy’s gonna hit you guys pretty hard. There’s no sense in cloaking it. You, my clawed cousins, are probably the most emotional sign so not only are your feelings heightened, you may feel like you just want to get away from it all. Considering taking a nice trip? Stahp. Plan it now and go for it in the next few months. While Mercury is in Retrograde, you definitely do not want to take some crazy excursions. If you need to take a break, visit a museum, take up some yoga or work on that project you gave up on a while ago. These alternatives will help you cope in a healthy way instead of running from what you don’t want to face.

Leo – Tax season is coming up, so contemplate how you want those funds allocated. Yes, my preening feline. With Chiron (planet of wounds and healing) and Mercury in such close proximity, you might feel a bit wounded this time around. Self-help books could become useful this time as you try to decipher dreams or just memories from the past. Pay attention to things you normally wouldn’t. That includes friends and family you’ve been neglecting. This Piscean influence is sending you signals and forcing you to readjust the way you exchange emotional resources as well as your financial ones. The devil’s in them details.

Virgo – Oh Virgo’s my OCD loves: Try to loosen up this month. Not everything has to be perfect and you don’t need to go ghost in order to obtain it. With this Piscean influence affecting your relationships, people might be put off by your disappearing act and might consider whether you value their friendships. Reach out, be that person that randomly appears during retrograde. Heal those old wounds and reassure the ones you love with your presence. Chances are if someone’s crossing your mind it’s because you’re on theirs as well.

Libra – Mercury will add some irritation to your routines but you’re good at this, so it will not be such a big deal. Here you learn how to perfect things and redo them so that you will get the value months from now. You’ll do things you’ll thank yourself for later. Work hard even if you don’t feel motivated that way you can play hard later.

Scorpio – Good news arachnid fam, this is the time to relax and break free. I don’t think any of us can forget (or forgive) the things that happened during the last Retrograde. But now that we’ve healed, expect a lot of muses to inspire you. Your artistry is alive. Your creative juices are flowing and people flock to you this March. Social connections are highly likely as you make time to reconnect and steal the spotlight. Yes you’ll be affected by the watery influence but you’re ruled by water too so it’s nothing you can’t flex on.

Sagittarius – Miscommunications at home (which might be part of this issue since you guys are a ruled by the planet of expansion) can prove frustrating but no worries! This is temporary. This will help clear out the air and it will allow you to work on any family drama you have been ignoring. Relax, take notes. You guys are a sign that’s notorious for your blatant and cavalier honesty. Some appreciate it. Some just think you’re harsh. Listen to others and take a page from Libra’s book on this and practice being more diplomatic in your approach.

Capricorn – It’s highly unlikely that you will be on time for anything this month which is highly unlike you since you guys are ruled by Saturn, father of time. Sorry fam, the world seems to be against you, or maybe it’s just time being complicated. You as an earth sign just don’t rock with this watery retrograde. It may seem hard but attempt to go with the flow, don’t lose your cool. Mercury here will teach you some much-needed patience. Be clear, be concise and be patient.

Aquarius –Shmonnaayyyyy! Listen, this could prove to be a beneficial time for you as you see a surge of income from unexpected forces. Has your right had been itching? While others might be losing their mind, you might actually benefit from this period since mercury is making you remove the emotional baggage and clutter as you get your finances in order and learn from previous spending habits and mistakes.

Pisces – It’s about you, baby. Happy birthday. You are on Cloud 9. Yes, this year may have started with upsets and disappointments, but you’ve noticed that things have stabilized and you feel extra Zen with the universe. Mercury’s taught you acceptance, self-care and most importantly self-love (who couldn’t use more of that?) This unconditional joy you may experience throughout the month will allow you to bloom and heal for Aries Season.

So what have we learned today?

Number one: don’t resort to excesses but remain balanced and focused on building the right sort of relationships. Be it work relationships, old ties we thought were forgotten or family binds that will never break. Yes yes, nervousness and stress, fears paranoia may be stimulated, especially if you’ve been working or living in an environment hostile to your deeper needs. But let's all remember to keep our dignity and wits about us. Especially with such a murky and hazy fog that Neptune always blesses us with (note sarcasm) around this time.

Now, will second-guessing and trying to read between every line be hard to avoid? Absolutely. However, the best course of action around this time is to make as few assumptions as possible. Be open to your own intuitive hunches and be ready to take a new direction when it suddenly materializes. It may be closer than you think.  And when the mist clears, you’ll have the opportunity to really make yourself seen and heard. Until then, I’ll be here to keep you updated on the latest celestial happenings. Good luck.

[pitiless-achilles-wept]

Always Waiting: The Cost of Never Being Done

Hi all,

I kept waiting for a time when I felt like I had time and energy to write and...surprise! It turns out that's not just around the corner when you have a chronic illness and are still working full time (not to mention trying to keep up a social life and maintain all your relationships). But I figure some information is better than none at all, so I'll get through what I can. 

You all remember (I think) that I went to Dana-Farber after my December CT scans showed significant growth of my primary tumor despite the metastatic sites holding steady. I came out of that meeting with two recommendations for clinical trials. One--my top pick--was being run out of Massachusetts General Hospital and Dana-Farber and involved an antibody-drug conjugate (IMMU-132) that has been shown to be super effective for triple-negative breast cancer but which got held up at the FDA approval stage. Doctors are pretty frustrated that the approval is still pending and that the only way to use it is on a trial, but there's hope that it might get approved in the next 6-9 months. The other is being run out of UPenn by the same doctor whose study I was on before and who I really like. It looks at the effect of chemo + an immunological agent vs. just chemo.

There were several reasons to prefer the MGH study (even though it would have necessitated traveling to Boston during the coldest months of the year), among them that I wouldn't have to endure chemotherapy as part of the trial. And it looked for a while as though I was going to be able to join it. It wasn't actively enrolling but there was a spot. I waited, in the days right before Christmas, to hear. And my doctors all worked hard, calling the PI and discussing the option of enrollment at either location. But it didn't work out. Another patient made exactly the same call I would have made--and I cannot fault them for that--and I am several places down on the waiting list. Spots open up when people leave the study, so presumably when their disease worsens or a better treatment option opens up. It only happens every couple of months. Doing the math, it seemed more likely that the drug would get approved by the FDA than that I would get to enroll.

I was pretty angry. And it was hard because there was no single person to be angry at. Not at my doctors, all of whom knew my preference, did all they could, and gave sincere apologies when it didn't work out. And not at the other patient who took the chance that I so hoped I'd be given. If anything, I was angry at the FDA for not approving the drug faster, or at whoever was funding the study for not allowing there to be more than 68 patients on it at any given time. The fact that groundbreaking, life-saving medical research is also a business constantly makes me angry. Sometimes it works in my favor (IMMU-132 will likely get fast-tracked on its second go through the FDA because someone will make money) and sometimes it doesn't (why fund more spots than you need on a clinical trial just because people want to be in it?).

So then there was more waiting. So much of having Stage 4 cancer is a waiting game. Waiting for promising new research directions. Waiting for that research to get funded. Waiting for those studies to enroll and complete. Waiting for FDA approval. Waiting for insurance approval. And, the biggest one by far, waiting to see if it works.

I was home for the holidays, not meant to see an oncologist until mid-January. A third option was proposed, which was staying on the study I had been doing with the PARP inhibitors but first doing a short course of radiation on the breast tumor. When I got home at New Year's I booked in to a radiology consultation, even though I felt a suspicion that it wasn't the best option. (Several oncologists told me that if the PARP inhibitors had stopped working on the initial tumor it was only a matter of time--and likely not much of it--before they stopped working on the metastatic sites too.) After spending nearly an hour with yet another very helpful doctor who had studied the whole history of my case (and a little bit of my research, once I told him what to Google) I saw that I was right. A tumor this size, he said, would only benefit from a pretty lengthy radiation course and we only had a grace period of 2 weeks for me to get back on the PARP study. He reminded me that it would be an option later and wishes me luck.

I'd like to pause here to do something I haven't done before and ask you all a favor. I understand exactly why this happens but please, to help me out, don't ask anymore about why I am not (yet) having surgery or radiation on the tumor. Yes, the primary tumor is the biggest and nastiest and pains me every day. You can be sure I'm also asking that question of my doctors, not only when there's a treatment change but when I tell them that it's hurting me. I know that it seems simplest to just cut it out (even if this means altering my body in a way that I am not eager to do) or try to shrink it. And I know that's why people ask. All the time. ALL the time. Unfortunately, it leaves me feeling defensive--do they not know that I have thought of this option every single day as I carry around the painful, swollen weight of a 6cm tumor?--and like I have to justify my decision. I imagine one or both those things will happen immediately. I have many (medical) reasons for not doing them yet. When I decide to do them, you will know and I will tell you more about why. But it would make me feel a lot better if I knew people weren't going to keep asking. Thank you.

Ok, back to what happened one I decided that radiation was out. Essentially, last week I officially consented to the study that's at Penn and that involves chemo. My first session will be on January 30th. I'll be going every 3 weeks. The agent I'm receiving is one of the oldest (carboplatin) and will be given in a higher dosage than when I went every week. This means it's likely to make me sicker. (The doctors did say that I'd feel worst on days 2-5 and better as the cycle wore on.) No one told me that people tolerate this one especially well and, having been so relatively lucky with side effects before, my worst-case-scenario brain assumes my luck will now be bad and that I will really struggle, lose all my hair, not be able to work, etc. Unhelpfully, although they can speak in averages, no one can predict how anyone will react to chemo. So just...wait. As usual.

To join the study, of course, there are a great many hoops all of which involve trips to Philly. I had a biopsy yesterday (Wednesday) and am spending tomorrow (Friday) getting CT and bone scans. There was an ongoing fight with my insurance company today when I got a phone call first thing in the morning telling me that they had canceled tomorrow's CTs because I didn't have authorization. Without authorization, no CT. Without a CT, no joining the study. Without joining the study, no starting chemo on time (lots of rearranging of my work and ride/support schedule). Lucky for me, my doctor's office was the one to do the calling and arguing. But it's frankly absurd to deny authorization for a CT scan to a documented Stage 4 cancer patient. I cannot even imagine what further information they would need for that one. And if I hadn't been joining a trial there would have been no rush and, likely, I would have been the one calling. The amount of admin involved in being chronically ill is frankly staggering. The end result, luckily, is that I am going in tomorrow.

And that's why I must get to bed. I know I make it sound like swinging by the hospital for a biopsy is no big deal - it's an outpatient procedure with only local anesthetic! I ate Shake Shack afterwards and went to work today! But, in fact, it's stressful to the body as well as the spirit to be on an operating table, numbed up with local anesthetic, and pierced in the lymph node or breast by an ultrasound-guided needle ten times (because you are doing so many studies and they all need research samples). The scans tomorrow will be easier - all I have to do is not eat beforehand, drink barium, lie in an x-ray contraption while having contrast dye injected through the port that's plumbed into my artery...then take a break before being injected with a radioactive tracer that will infuse my bones for a couple hours until I lie perfectly still and have them imaged. Easy, right?

I like to say that this stuff is no big deal--that it's just a lot of waiting in different places. And that's true, to an extent. The CTs don't hurt and they aren't physically demanding (although I'm not great at drinking that much barium milkshake that fast). The bone scan is kind of cool and I plan to wear my "Biohazard" t-shirt. But my normalization of the massive apparatus surrounding being ill and my incorporation of it into my everyday life does, I think, minimize the physical as well as emotional toll I pay each time I have a test or treatment. Not only are those reminders of the insidious disease that has taken so much of my life from my control--I'm not even thinking about that consciously most of the time--it's just all so relentless. There's always another call to make, appointment to keep, symptom to track, bill to pay, person to text or call. I am never, ever done.

On that last item, I do often feel burdened with guilt. I want support, but don't feel that I can always pay it back in the form of updates or thanks to those who so generously give it. But I do hope you all know that I'm here, appreciating each and every piece of it that I get. Social media may not be great for some things but it is wonderful for the small kindnesses that can buoy me up on a tougher day. This has been one, so I'm off to bed. But I send you gratitude and love.

Bex

[iamaliberalartsstudent]

Modern Languages' Tips for Creating a Great Work-space at Home

Last week, Georgia Institute of Technology announced that it is closing its campus and converting to a fully remote environment for the rest of the semester. This means teaching all our courses online and advising our master's students remotely as they work independently on their Final Projects.

Students are working on a variety of projects, from documentaries to research papers, from ethnographic research to translation. Right now, they are preparing to defend their projects in a 30-minute presentation at the end of April. A good work-space at home will definitely be important.

So to help them (and myself prepare), I asked some fellow professors to share some strategies for working from home.

1. Get a designated work area.

It's easy to think you can work anywhere, because technically, you can. Writers are notorious for working everywhere but the office: at home, on a couch, in cafes, in train stations, on trains, or even wandering through the park with a voice recorder.

Because writing is so psychological, it's important to have a space that mentally prepares you for work. Try to find a space that you use exclusively for work, so your mind knows to focus when you sit down. And when you leave the space, you can more easily think about other things (For example, experts advise against working in bed, because it can make it more difficult to fall asleep).

2. Limited on space? Create mental boundaries.

I don't have space for a home office in my apartment, so I'm using my dining table. My working setup can be opened and then put away, so I know when I'm working, and when I'm done for the day.

There are many ways to get in the mindset. For me, it's always been putting a cup of coffee or tea to the left of my laptop and having something to write on. For many people, it's doing their morning routine and getting dressed for work. It could be anything: putting in your headphones, saying a catch-phrase, starting a timer, or opening your project folder. Do whatever works for you!

3. Plan out a daily routine.

Starting March 30th, you will have classes online. You may also have other responsibilities, depending on your living and family situation. Plan how you will use your time: When will you be in class? When will you do homework? When will you work on your project? Don't forget to include time to relax and get away from your screen!

NPR suggests: "Get ready for work every morning like you are going to physically go into work. Dress up, do your hair — whatever you'd normally do. This puts you in a professional mindset....If you're the type of person who never takes a break at home, set a timer to take time for lunch, and turn off your work....Try to maintain normal work hours, and shut things down when you would normally leave the office."

If you're working on multiple projects, it helps to work on the same project at the same time every day. For example, if you're juggling your Prospectus and three other courses, you might want to decide that no matter what else happens, you will work on your Prospectus from 6:00 - 7:00 pm every day.

Check out the daily routines of 20 famous writers on Brain Pickings.

4. Make sure you have reliable internet.

With everyone online at the same time, internet speeds could slow down, so make sure you have reliable internet access. Check out https://gatech.service-now.com/continuity for IT support through Georgia Tech.

5. Get ready for video conferencing.

You will probably have meetings and classes via Bluejeans, so take a moment to prep your webcam. You may want to find a private area with a neutral background, where you can have meetings with your professors. Have a good pair of headphones. Test it out with friends to see if there's background noise. Will it still work if your family member is doing a Skype meeting in the next room?

Note that Bluejeans looks different in the app and browser versions, and in the laptop and tablet versions, so try them out and see which one you prefer. Download Bluejeans here: http://bluejeans.gatech.edu/

Remember that Bluejeans Meetings are at gatech.bluejeans.com (reversal of the above URL). Don't forget to hang up when you're done!

6. Set goals, and celebrate your accomplishments!

A three-month project like your Master's Project can feel overwhelming. Break it down into "bite-size," measurable tasks that take 20, 40, 60 minutes to complete.

These might be:

Search the internet for articles on X topic and save them to a folder.

Take notes on a book chapter.

Write an analysis of a scene in a film.

Edit a page you wrote yesterday.

When you've finished a task, Reward yourself! Acknowledge and celebrate the moment: take a 5-minute stretch break, have a snack, watch a video of unlikely animal friendships (don't get sucked in, though; time yourself if you need to).

7. Aim for 4 productive hours per day.

Lelia Glass, Assistant Professor of Linguistics at Georgia Tech, writes:

"Set a timer when you work. Any time you check emails, read Twitter, get coffee, wash your hands, etc, pause the timer. Pause it as often as you want, but keep working until you get to a real hour.

Once you reach your goal, relax, knowing you really put in quality time on your work.  This is how I wrote my dissertation from a couch in San Francisco over the course of nine months or so."

Dr. Glass says she uses this method to "do about 4-5 hours of writing per day." Turns out, the average human brain can only stay deeply focused for a maximum of 4-5 hours per day. So if you've worked for four hours productively, you've done an amazing job!

Creating protected blocks of time, like an hour in the morning and an hour in the evening, can help you prioritize your current top project. And remember, once you've reached your goal, take a break!

8. Take breaks!

Just as important as a designated work area is a designated space for time off. Whether it's your favorite couch, your bed, or the act of closing your email and washing out your coffee cup, it's important to step away and give your mind a break. Dr. Glass suggests going for a run, cooking a healthy meal, and video-chatting with family and friends.

9. Don't worry if you're messy.

The middle of a project is always messy.

We live in messy times.

And if all else fails, remember Einstein's words: "If a cluttered desk is a sign of a cluttered mind, of what, then, is an empty desk a sign?"

Sources:

"The Daily Routines of 20 Famous Writers," Brain Pickings, https://www.brainpickings.org/2012/11/20/daily-routines-writers/

"8 Tips to make working from home work for you" npr.org/2020/03/15/815549926/8-tips-to-make-working-from-home-work-for-you

Managing Large Writing Projects, Inside Higher Ed. insidehighered.com/advice/2009/04/24/managing-large-writing-projects

Special thanks to Lelia Glass and Jinyi Chu for sharing your work-spaces and tips!

By Jenny Strakovsky, Assistant Director of Graduate Studies

[atc74]

The Little Details

Square(s) Filled: Amnesia for @spnkinkbingo, Ice Cream Date for @spnfluffbingo2019 and Hunt Gone Wrong for BTZ Bingo

Warnings: Angst, head injury, amnesia, Sad!Dean, Worried!Dean, fluffy finish, implied sexy times

Summary: On a hunt gone wrong, the reader is injured and doesn’t remember her family. 

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 2700 even!

Written for: @spnkinkbingo, @spnfluffbingo2019, BTZ Bingo, and @alleiradayne‘s Supernatural Songs and Stories Challenge. My prompt was:  Hypnotized, I’m shakin’ to my knees from Def Leppard’s Hysteria. I don’t think I won the fake internet points, but I am proud of this anyway!

Beta’d by: @hannahindie, the best cheerleader ever 

A/N: Webster’s defines hysteria as: an uncontrollable outburst of emotion or fear, often characterized by irrationality, laughter, weeping, etc.

Also, italics indicate memories. 

Like Dean’s scent? Buy it here from @scentsfromthebunker for a new fan experience!

“Hey, Sweetheart. Welcome back,” Dean looked down at Y/N in his arms as he carried her to their room in the Bunker. Dean walked into the room and set her down gently on the bed. “How’re’ya feeling? Gave us quite the scare.”

Y/N looked around the room, taking in her surroundings. She looked back up at Dean, a soft smile on his face. “Where am I and who are you?”

The smile fell as she spoke to him. Dean had feared the worse when she had been attacked by the werewolf. The beast had taken out the brunt of its frustration on her, focusing on the weaker link. Y/N was no weakling, but next to the Winchesters, she was the lesser threat. The wolf grabbed her and threw her, her head hitting the wall with a dull smack, her lifeless body sliding down the wall and slumping to the floor.

Sam stopped short of their room when he heard her questions. He moved slowly, coming to stand side by side with his brother.

“My name is Sam Winchester. This is my brother Dean,” Sam crouched down, trying to make himself appear smaller next to his longtime friend. “You’re home, Y/N.”

“I don’t-I don’t know you,” she stammered out. Fear shook her and tears fell from her eyes. “What happened to me?”

“You were in an accident, Y/N. You hit your head pretty hard,” Dean spoke up, joining his brother on his knees next to the bed. “How does it feel?”

“Hurts, I guess,” she said hesitantly, her hand coming up to rub the back unconsciously.

“Yeah, I bet it does,” Sam said with a light chuckle. “I’ll get you something for the pain. Anything else I can get you? Water, maybe a snack?”

“Yes, please. I’m starving,” she smiled at the two strangers. She didn’t know why, but she felt comfortable, safe even. She shouldn’t. She didn’t know these men. They could hurt her if they wanted. But something inside her said they were not a threat.

“I bet you wanna get cleaned up, huh?” The shorter, green eyed one asked. Dean, she thought his name was. She nodded her reply. “Come on. I’ll show you.” He grabbed a change of clothes and a towel before leading her down the hall.

“Thank you, Dean,” she turned to him as he was leaving.

“Anything for you, Sweetheart,” he winked and smiled, leaving her alone in the large room.

Freshly showered and comfortable in the too large clothes that Dean had given her, she shuffled back the way they had come, forgetting what room she had been in. The gold numbers shined at her as she walked past each door. She kept walking but stopped when she reached room eleven. She couldn’t explain it, but It felt familiar, like Dean. She entered the room to find him sitting at the old desk.

“Sam says you should eat before you take the pills. Something about narcotics and an empty stomach,” he shrugged handing her the plate containing a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, sans crust, and a sliced apple.

“You cut the crust off…” she looked down at the sandwich, then back up, meeting Dean’s gaze.

“Yeah. You always say the crust tastes like sawdust, so…” he made a chopping motion with his hand. “Eat then get some rest.”  He made to leave but she stopped him with a hand on his arm.

“Please, stay,” her voice wavered but her eyes never left his. “I feel like I know you, but I can’t remember. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, Y/N. It’ll take some time,” Dean urged her to sit down and eat. Once she was settled, he brought her the bottle of water. He set up his laptop with one of her favorite movies, Gone With The Wind.  “I’ve got a couple things I need to take care of and shower. I promise, I’ll be back.”

“Pinky promise?” She held up her little finger and he hooked it with his own.

“Pinky promise,” he repeated. “Wait...why did you just say that? Do you remember doing this with me before?”

“It’s just something I’ve always... I don’t know why I said it. I just felt like it was something I would say,” she said, her eyes wide. “Did we do this?”

“Yeah, about a million times,” he chuckled, trying to push the pain down for her sake. “I’ll be back in a bit. Eat and try to rest, huh?” He grabbed a change of clothes for himself and left the room, not turning to see her staring after him.

His footsteps echoed down the hall as he headed toward the library. Sam sat at one of the tables, his laptop open and reading intently.

“So does she remember anything?” Sam asked his brother. Dean reached for a bottle of the good stuff and took a seat.

“Nothing, Sam. She doesn’t remember me, you, or this place,” Dean spoke in a hushed voice, scared she’d overhear them. “She made me pinky promise though.”

“That is something Y/N does, Dean. That’s a good sign,” Sam told him excitedly. “I’ve been reading up on amnesia and some things that could help. There are some simple home therapies we can try. Movies, food, smells, being intimate...all the things she enjoyed before the accident. We’ll get through this Dean. I know we will.”

“I can’t do that Sam! She told me once that she only felt whole, when we were, you know...but right now it would be non-consensual and I can’t think about that, not right now. So I hope you’re right, Sammy, because I can’t lose her, not like this,” Dean sniffed, draining the glass he poured. “I’ve gotta shower and get back. She didn’t want me to leave.”

Dean took a quick shower and changed into his night clothes. He tossed his dirty ones in the laundry room on his way back to his room. He could hear the movie running and stopped just outside the doorway, leaning against the frame. Even tired and beat up, she was still the most beautiful woman he had ever met. She was strong, fierce and loyal. She was crazy smart, funny and generous. She could give him a run for his money sparing or at the gun range, but she loved rom-coms and old movies. She was raised in the life, just like him and his brother, and she fit from the moment they met. They fit.

“How’s the movie?” Dean asked as he walked into the room.

“Wonderful. I’ll never get tired of seeing this movie,” she replied wistfully as she watched the scene play out on the screen.

“I know. I’ve watched it at least a dozen times with you, but I always fall asleep,” Dean admitted as he grabbed a pillow and an extra blanket from the closet, tossing them on the floor next to the bed.

“What are you doing?” She asked, watching his movements.

“You wanted me to stay, right?” Dean asked and she nodded. “Well, you take the bed and I’ll be here when you wake up.”

“Dean, this is your room, right? I can’t take the bed from you. We’re adults and we can share without it being weird,” she reasoned.

“Y/N, I can’t do that. Your injury-you don’t remem-” Dean started.

“No, I don’t remember you and I’m sorry. But I can feel you,” she confessed, holding her hand to her chest, over her heart. “In here, I can feel that you mean something to me and from the look on your face, it’s not one sided. We’re together, aren’t we?”

“Yes, we are. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, Sweetheart,” Dean met her gaze.

“Then come lay with me. Tell me about us,” she offered her hand to him and he took it in his, climbing into the bed with her.

For hours, they lay facing each other, while Dean told her story after story. It wasn’t until the sounds of her even breathing filled the room, that he stopped talking. He switched out the light and rolled to his back.

A week had gone by and still nothing was coming back for Y/N. They tried everything they could think of, short of hunting. Her favorite foods, books, movies. It was when Sam was researching that an idea hit him.

“Dean!” Sam bellowed from the Library.  

“Did you find something?” Dean asked hopefully.

“Yes. No. Maybe. I don’t know, it might be a long shot,” Sam offered. “You remember me telling you about this machine the Men of Letters had that they used to break into someone’s thoughts?”

Dean stood in front of his brother shaking his head. “No, Sam. I’m not putting her through that.”

“Not her Dean. You,” Sam pointed out. “We’ll hook you up to the machine and let her in your head. She should be able to see your memories. Memories of the two of you. Maybe it will spark something,” Sam theorized.

“Y/N, this might seem weird, but we think it might help regain your memories,” Sam explained as he hooked her and Dean up to the ‘mind melder’ as Dean referred to it.

“What does it do?” She asked Sam, her eyes locked on Dean next to her.

“Tests have proven that one can see another’s thoughts, or in this case memories,” Sam told her. “Dean will go through his memories of the two of you…”

“I’m gonna play our greatest hits, Sweetheart, and you’ll be able to see them, too,” Dean smiled, holding her hand in his as Sam finished placing the electrodes.

“Okay, you two ready?” Sam asked.

“Yep,” they answered in unison and Sam flipped the switches on the machine.

Dean and Y/N sat side by side, hand in hand. He closed his eyes and she followed suit.

“What do you think you’re doing here? This is my hunt, go find your own,” the spitfire growled. Her face was splattered with blood from the vamp she had just beheaded. Before Dean could come up with his typical smart ass comment, she pushed him to the side, taking out another blood sucker before he got the drop on Dean.

“You saved me,” Dean uttered, mesmerized by this woman.

“Even men can be the damsel in distress, Prince Charming,” she winked and wiped the blood of her face with the sleeve of her jacket.

Sam watched with curiosity as Y/N’s face scrunched up, wondering what Dean was remembering for her. As he kept vigil, her face softened.

“Where are we going, Dean?” She asked impatiently, tugging at his hand as he kept driving.

“You said you wanted ice cream,” he reminded her.

“You just drove past at least three ice cream places, including a Dairy Queen and a Baskin Robbins!” She practically shouted at him.

“Oh Sweetheart, thirty-one flavors’s got nothing on this place,” he smirked but kept driving through town until he came to a stop in front of a small store.

“Dean, I count thirty-two flavors total,” Y/N scowled at Dean.

“It’s not the quantity that matters, Y/N. It’s the quality. Take a look at some of these flavors,” Dean glanced up at the colorful, handwritten board, pulling her close to him with an arm around her waist. “Guinness, Summit Oatmeal Stout, they even have one made with your favorite. Listen to this: A dark brown sugar and creme fraiche ice cream with Jameson Irish Whiskey and Disaronno Originale amaretto to help you contemplate the incomprehensible, all mixed with praline pecan pieces and a crunchy cashew brittle. Sound right up your alley.”

“Ice cream and whiskey on the first date?” She smiled up at him. “You’re gonna spoil me, Prince Charming.”

“That’s kinda the idea, Sweetheart,” he smiled back down at her.

Both Dean and Y/N licked their lips and he thought maybe Dean’s memory had been about food, or beer, or both. He smiled as he got up and made his way to the kitchen, hopeful that this would work. Returning a few minutes later with coffee and an apple, he sat back down.

“You’re my better half, the Plant to my Page. I’ve never searched out love because I knew how it would end for me. But you literally almost took my head off and I have been in love with you since day one. I can’t imagine living this life with anyone else, Y/N. Will you marry me?” Dean asked, down on one knee and his eyes wet from the tears he had shed.

Y/N seemed emotionally moved by something, her hand flew to her mouth and tears were streaming from her face. She didn’t appear to be in distress and Sam knew better than to disturb the process, so he ignored his pick-me-up and watched her intently, looking for any signs he should pull the plug.

Another few minutes passed as Sam twiddled his thumbs. A smile broke out on both their faces and tears streaming from their eyes.

“What is this? It’s not my birthday, or our anniversary, Sweetheart,” Dean shook the little box in his large hands. “Is today some little anniversary that I am missing? And how much trouble am I in?

“Just open the box cowboy,” she giggled and bounced on the balls of her feet, trying and failing to contain her own excitement.

Dean ripped through the paper and took the top off the box. Moving the tissue paper aside, his eyes went wide. “Are you serious?” Her head bobbed and he knew it was a dream come true.

Inside the box was a the tiniest pair of knitted cowboy boots he had ever seen and a card.

“This little buckaroo has the best daddy ever!”

Tears filled Dean’s eyes as he embraced his wife, a hand placed gently on her stomach where their baby was growing.

Dean was the first to open his eyes and signaled Sam to turn off the machine. He flipped the switches while Dean disconnected the electrodes from Y/N, then his own. She slowly opened her eyes.

A fit of laughter erupted from her lips as tears continued running down her cheeks. She threw herself into Dean’s arms. “Sweetheart, are you okay?”

“This might be hysteria, Dean. Her emotions are all over the place,” Sam commented, observing the pair.

“Yes, I am Sam. I am hysterical,” she replied, looking up into Dean’s eyes before dropping to her knees. He body shook uncontrollably from laughter and tears at the same time. “I’m hypnotized by this man...my husband. The father of my child...I’m shakin’ to my knees. I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to remember, cowboy.”

“Oh my god. I’ve never been so happy to hear you call me that,” Dean pulled her into his arms, crushing her to his chest.

“You’re pregnant? I’m gonna be an uncle?” Sam was stunned.

“Yeah, Sammy, you are,” she smiled, pulling away from Dean, his arms wrapping around her waist to rest on her belly.

“And no more craziness in the field, Mama,” Dean reminded her.

“Oh no. I think I’ve learned my lesson on that one. As of right now, I am officially a stay-at-home-mom,” she smiled up at her husband. “When we first got home, why didn’t you tell me we were married when I asked if we were together? Or tell me that I was pregnant?”

“I think it would have just added unnecessary stress to the situation. Besides, you already knew that we were together, the little details didn’t matter much until you were healthy,” Dean shrugged, kissing her gently.

“But it’s the little details that brought me back,” she kissed him back, hungry for her husband. “Thank you for sharing those with me. They mean so much more now that I have seen them from your point of view.”

“Come on,” he tugged at her hand, pulling her down the hall to their room. “I’ve missed my wife and now that you’re back, we’ve got some catching up to do!”

“Saddle up cowboy!” She shouted as Dean slammed the door behind them.

Did you like it? The nicest thing you can do for a writer is reblog their work and tell them, and others, how much you like it!

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BTZ Gang: @pinknerdpanda  @chelsea072498 @katymacsupernatural

[autismgavemychildvaccines]

Why I’m Ashamed to Be Christian

So, now that I am literally sick of the Measles nonsense (no, fucking literally, working 12+ hour shifts on an incident management team has got me sick and tired enough to call in tomorrow), I’ve decided to do a non PH rant, though it’ll for sure rear it’s fucking head somewhere in here. Instead, let’s tackle something real fun. Religion! Time to buckle up.  In my half fucking awake daze that I was just nudged out of, something really wild hit me. My faith, my belief in a very specific God with a specific book (though I admit that other religions, so long as their origin is not a company or a tool to oppress others on the outset, are valid/likely just as true) makes no God damned sense.  (For reference, here I will claim my most closely related sect as my own; American Evangelism [though if one were to ask in person I’d say “non-denominational”, but historically, the two are close] and will be speaking as a part of a community I used to closely belong to but now have drifted away from on some granola-crunching dumbassery that is “I am a church of one” bullshit. I’ve wanted to be other things, but ever since I left the Freemasons, fuck all else has had much appeal.) So, first things first, Garden of Eden, right? Pretty fucking cool place, some might have even called it a perfect garden, a perfect place for humans and God to interact? But here’s my hang up with it. The trees of Life and Knowledge, and the rule that Adam and Eve could eat of any fruit except those grown upon that pair. Why even fucking have them?

 When I asked that as a kid in a faith based area, they said because it was a test.

 Of what?

 “Well, of our loyalty to God and our Faith, of course”. 

Except again, what the fuck? Like, I get the idea of free-will, in fact I am a huge believer in individual free will (I’ll get to that in a sec), but here’s the stickler here. As any other creative type will tell you, we want our work to take on a life of its own. Like say I wanted to program a remarkably bright AI, and it worked, and all I wanted was for it to recognize me as its creator and to discover and enjoy what home I could make for it. You know what I wouldn’t do? I wouldn’t give an AI, even with some simulated free will, the ability to break certain rules. For example, I wouldn’t allow it unrestricted access to the internet or my personal accounts. I wouldn’t even give it the concept that such things existed, let alone put it right fucking there to be used. That would be a flaw, an imperfection in an otherwise perfect place. And yeah, there’s something to be said for giving free will with not-free consequences, sure. But two things: 1) Don’t be pissed when the thing happens that you allowed to exist in the first place and thus forced it to be a mathematical certainty now that you’re dealing with perhaps the most curious species to ever exist.  2) Don’t go blaming them for a lack of faith. If anything, it’s a self-fulfilling prophecy, an act that abusers often use to get what they really want and have a thin veneer of an excuse to make happen. Now doesn’t that sound a lot like a good number of the followers of this faith, as opposed to an almighty, omnipotent, powerful being? Hmm, something to consider there, maybe.  Speaking of followers, let’s actually also take a look at some of the prophets that we as American Christians often hold so dear. Now me? I’m a Luke guy, I like Luke. Peaceful, loving gospel for the most part, and I dig it. Peace and love, baby, that’s all I want coming from stories regarding a higher power that we had to hang up like a fucking tapestry to make sure we got all that love. But do you know who I fucking hate, and who I blame the most for how the American chruch is? Paul/Saul of Tarsus. Thiiiiiiiiiiis prick. This fucking Deus Vult Vulture. Actually in many ways, he really is the archetype to the Modern Evangelical fucking anything. Actively participated in the harassing, attempted extinguishing and successful terrorizing of a marginalized group. Then after being hit back for it, literally “seeing the light” and trying to be the fucking vanguard of said group only to lead it down a path where he’s suddenly the appointed expert of anything to do with the issue. And while he does this, he helps create the most violent and bigoted thoughts in the whole of the religion, and is praised for his visions as he says they are truly from God, and can thus act oh so righteously. This right here is a fucking problem, y’all. Like, I know the whole forgiveness idea allows for some mental gymnastics on how this could even happen, but even then to make a genocidal ass-face your de-facto leader aside from Christ himself for the next 2000 years is a fucking flip that even at the 1988 Olympics, if Christians were America, Russia would give them a straight 10/10.    And yet, for many of us, that’s exactly what we’ve done. Hell, we’ve even fallen into the forced victim narrative of the synopsis of this asshole:  “Oh well, you see, I was a heathen and thus I couldn’t help myself, but then like, the God of the people I was killing talked to me and like, now I have to do this (Take on the “burden” of leading the church) as penance for what I couldn’t help myself over.” We’ve fallen for it so much, that it may as well be hard wired into our nervous system to believe anything resembling it, just as we assume if something is flat, green and on a tree, it’s a leaf.  Maybe it’s why we as a religion (and let’s face it, other Abrahamic religions as well) are so damn good at beating down the marginalized while screaming that we are the saints, we’re the sacrificiers trying to make things better. Like, let’s have some modern day fun with this bullshit, man; let’s see how we treated and in many places continue to treat women.  Of the few churches I have been to, 100% of them had one dual-sided message that made me real fuckin’ uncomfortable, fam:  Part 1) That women cannot be trusted onto themselves and thus 2) Men must take control of them and society to not allow for some unspecified “Ridiculous bullshit”.  (as a fair heads up; I do fully recognize non-binary, trans individuals, etc, but for the sake of brevity I’ll be mostly referring to M/F in the traditional sort of way, because opening up Christianity’s treatment of anything regarding gender fluidity is a Ph.D. thesis for another day)  Now, I don’t know about y’all, but I know damn well that out of all the dudes I know, and all the lasses I know, they’re a pretty mixed fuckin’ bunch. It’s almost like their gender assigned at birth doesn’t really affect how reasonable they could be as people nor how much responsibility they should have. Obviously some cultural practices skew this quite a bit in so far that women are expected to take more responsibility, younger, and for less praise, but if anything that should help destroy, not reinforce that message.  And yet, the idea persists so much in Christian circles. And not just by the men themselves, but the women, also. For the longest time of my church going days, the pastor was a woman. She wholly believed it was just and right that her husband be in charge of everything, that women should be loyal to their men in all aspects. Then again, she also (despite recruiting members primarily from college) did not believe in evolution at all, so there’s that in terms of an intellectual hurdle. But regardless, this inherent submissive attitude within the faith (and even the half-hearted and self-congratulatory “Yeah but we REALLY are the ones making the decisions because we can withhold sex if we want” is essentially that too just a smidgen more empowering), when combined with the idea that men should be wholly in-control (which is a breeding ground for toxic masculinity if there ever was) is shameful. It’s what has allowed so much bullshit in the past, including these recent abortion laws. Now, I’m going to cover abortion in another post (I might get to it tomorrow; It’s been on the burner for weeks), but it’s super pertinent here.  We, as a religion, have allowed ourselves to tell women (just as we tell/told minorities before) that they cannot be trusted with their own bodies, that they cannot be trusted when they speak, and most certainly cannot be trusted to truly hold dominion over anything. And that has allowed the most insidious, hateful, bigoted, disgusting things to happen in the name of God. A God that while I am writing this post I still believe in, but my doubts about how genuine the message has ever been is hitting home. One whose words about peace have been ignored when they could be interpreted or pointed to to support war, where the rich can profit off the poor, or to support sexism, because we as men historically have wanted to control “everything of ours”, or to take the very free will we claim to hold so dear from those who need the ability to make their own decisions the most. Words that have been used to hold down good people from making lives better. Words that in the hands of those who wanted, could be profaned and desecrated and thus allow for profane and disturbing events, both on the grand stage of the world and behind the closed doors of any house in some small town. Words which are held up with a wink and a nod so that followers feel included when they are scammed by some fucking fried chicken joint who wants to make more money to fight against equality, or to pay for another $9 million jet for some asshole who croons about how the poor should be grateful they do not have the temptations of the rich.  To other followers, do you not lament that we are this way? That we have been this way for so long? Because I fucking do.  And to those who have been discriminated or marginalized or whatever else against because of your gender or skin colour or situation or victimization or  past deeds of any sort; I’m sorry. Genuinely, truly sorry you have suffered as you have. Sorry for what people have done thinking it was somehow morally or spiritually justified, sorry that they thought they were saving you. And I can assure you that I will never try to lead you as those before me have tried to. Though if it’s all the same, I’d like to get to hear you, and walk beside you. 

[mini-pretzel]

alright dude yea EVERY NUMBER FOR SWEETHEART ASKS

… what have i signed up for?

//cracks knuckles

grab a juice box, grab a snack.

we’ll be here for a while. what have i gotten myself into

1. Talk about your first love. 

oh jesus. i actually recently found my old journal lol

from way back when. 2009 i think? i was 13 or some shit. jesus. ok. so my first love was actually over the internet.

yeah, i know. nowadays we’re spoiled with tinder n shit, but back in 2009, all we had was myspace and msn and i met this fucker on skype.

i was so ahead of my time.

anyway, it was october 25, 2009.

here’s a snippet from my journal entry:

well i met a guy on skype. he’s a month younger cause my b-day is on oct 14 and his is on nov 18. but i don’t mind it.

yoooo i was into younger guys even at 13, jfc hahhaa //kill me jk hmu

and then on the next page hahahhaa omg

december 2, 2009

well me and ___ are no longer together. well we never began. he broke my heart two times already. going in depression. please don’t bother. first love, ha!

omfg damn, two months. yeah, that lasted long. also old me: ur so dramatic lol

also i was a feisty lil fella, jeez.

2. What’s the most beautiful songs you’ve ever heard in your opinion? 

this one

3. How’s your heart feeling right now?

a lil stressed. im like, hoping i can get through all of these questions without my computer crashing. pray 4 me.

4. What kind of self care is your favorite to do? 

ok, first thing to note, i fucking love self care. like, too much if im honest.

baths with bubbles and nice smelling scents, lotions, a face mask, taking my time with washing my face and hair and putting on the cutest clothes after. also snacks, always snacks.

when im feeling like spending money: massage. full body. best thing ever. i treat myself to it at least once a year for my b-day.

5. What’s your skincare routine? 

ok so i just got a new skincare line. it’s from nature republic. i have a cleanser, a toner and a moisturizer. it’s fairly simple (unlike 9 steps in korean ahhahha, but like i’ll probably get there in time) also i have a peel mask that smells like bananas that i put on twice a week to get rid of dead skin cells. oh and sometimes i do korean face masks, too.

6. How did you get to be so beautiful?

answered that q here

7. Do you have any stuffed animals?

NO! //hides them all away

8. Best trip you’ve ever been on?

thailand. my parents took me w/ them on their honeymoon.

lol idek why either. trust me.

i was just there for the swimming, riding elephants, getting food poisoning and downing two banana splits in one afternoon. good times.

9. Favorite thing about your room? 

i live in a jungle. but also in an art gallery cause my mom buys paintings online and resells them, but it’s become such a habit for her they are literally EVERYWHEREE I CANNOT.

also sorry mom i keep forgetting to water the GAZILLION plants THAT YOU HAVE MOVED INTO MY ROOM FOR SOME REASON. they’ll be dead by the time ur home. srry ilyyyyy.

also tae hmu if u want some paintings. i got way too many.

10. Opinion on love? 

dude. idk. i mean. it’s definitely not something one can describe easily or fully grasp.

im still waiting for my big love to come along, so like, we can talk about that when we get there.

otherwise, i’ll say this quote that i heard in a song:

give your heart, but keep your head.

11. Are you affectionate? 

with certain people. im weird.

with some people im like no, don’t touch me pls. i bite and scratch.

and with others you cannot get them out of my death love grip.

12. Who do you look up to? 

i look up to bts a lot. they’re doing a lot of good and they’re very respectable artists.

but i also look up to a lot of writers on here because i want to create worlds and writings like them. i won’t tag them cause rip them trying to find why i tagged them in this long ass post haha.

13. Favorite poet? 

@psycho-slytherin

lol sorry bae

ur gonna have to scroll to find out why i tagged u. and then go red and yell at me. hahah.

i also like silentium! by Fyodor Tyutchev

also everything by pushkin (esp ‘i loved you’ fuck that one gets me every time). seriously. that man isn’t called the golden poet in our country for nothing.

i actually don’t read a lot of poetry nowadays unless its my own or my friends’

but im open to recommendations

14. Song that makes you happy? How about one that calms you down when you’re in a bad place?

answered here!

15. Do you play an instrument?

lol no. i was almost taught the piano (lol rip me, i wanna kill my younger lazy ass self) and i dabbled into learning the violin. but that’s like a whole story and a half hahahaha.

16. Do you do art? Using what (pencil, watercolor, etc)?

i used to pencil draw, nothing special tho. a lot of naked ppl lol. butts n boobs were my fave. also pecks whoo.

17. Do you dance? What style of dance? 

i don’t! but i want to. i’ve been looking into dancing schools. i might do hip hop n stuff. see if i have the rhythm, i can’t tell from just jumping around my room lol

18. What’s your zodiac sign? Do you believe in astrology? 

im a libra yo. diplomatic and indecisive af.

i kinda do? there’s some sense there, but it’s too vague. i think ppl need to look into their charts to really grasp their character.

and for some it may not be true at all, so like. idk. we’re all just doing our best here.

19. Favorite old film? 

a russian film that i always watch over the new year. my mom would always joke that the new year doesn’t start till we watch it lol

the irony of fate

20. What’s your hairstyle? 

idk

u

tell

me

21. What weather is the most beautiful, in your opinion?

cloudy but warm. so there’s not too much sun but u can enjoy a nice walk outside without getting rained on.

22. What upsets you most about the world? 

i only have two hands but there are so many cats and dogs. i cannot pet all of them.

23. Are you in love right now?

answered ;)

24. Do you have a crush? If so, talk about them!

here u go

25. Do you have pets? Talk about something sweet about them! 

i don’t! but i wish i did i would shower them with my love.

but @the-trth-untold dogs are the cutest and @psycho-slytherin cats make my day. pls spam meeeee. also i love @paristae cat too.

26. Do you have a lucky number? 

yup. 22.

27. Have you ever wished on a star? What about on a fallen eyelash? 

i’ve never seen a fallen star, so no.

but i’ve wished on a fallen eyelash, always.

28. Do you believe emoji spells to work? 

emoji spells??

bruh i’ve never even heard of it till this ask wtf is that shit

bruh i mean if it works for ppl all power to them??? idk i never tried it

29. Do you believe in magic in general? 

i believe in magic tricks. but magic died for me when santa stopped existing.

30. What’s the most beautiful thing in life, In your opinion?

here

31. Opinion on the color pink? What about baby blue? 

gorgeous colors. i quite like mauve pink and deep dark blue tho.

but baby blue looks amazing on some folks. oof.

32. What instrumental sound is your favorite? 

piano. always.

33. Do you like the sound of wind? What about the sound of rain? 

answered :)

34. Who makes you happy? 

bts and all of my mutuals

35. What makes you happy? 

sleep, food, music, writing, cuddles. and forehead kisses.

also more listed here

36. Imagine your ideal life, the life you wish to make, what will that look like? 

i live in a nice apartment. doesn’t have to be expensive, just nice and clean with wooden floors and spacious windows.

i have all the necessities that i need and im never lonely.

i have also touched countless hearts by my books and am able to live comfortably just from my works.

haha. you said ideal, right?

also have someone to spend it with. someone i’d write poetry about daily. a bestfriend first and foremost before a lover.

37. Do you wear makeup? If so what’s your favorite type of makeup or specific makeup product? Favorite store to buy makeup?

answered this fella here

38. Do you wear dresses? If so what’s your favorite dress you own? 

i used to have dresses. but not anymore.

i liked the long sleeve sweater black one i had with a low cut. it was gorgeous. i dont have much of boobage but i always felt like i was sexy in it.

39. Ever been heartbroken? How do you deal with it? 

yep. you just kind of take it one day at a time. some days will be better than the last. some days you’ll cry a little harder and some days you move on a little further. it takes time. make sure you have good people around you so you don’t fall into depression.

40. Who’s your closest friend? What do you love about them? 

ah, to be honest i don’t have a closest friend. i’ve always been the kind of person that always had friends around her but never anyone too deep. and i kinda wish i did. i just don’t know who would come to fill that spot. people always leave, so i kind of gave up assigning that spot. i think the people that want to be in that spot will show themselves and tell me. otherwise i will not assume or assign.

41. Introvert or extrovert? 

introvert. but i have my moments. i can be charming and friendly when i want to.

42. Do you like MBTI? What’s your MBTI? 

i had to look it up cause i forgot what it was lol

i took the test a while back: im infp.

there’s not a lot of us, apparently. which is cool. shout out to all infps out there!

43. Would you be a fairy, a mermaid, a vampire, a siren, or an angel? 

hmmm. what kind of fairy tho? lol

maybe vampire? idk i’d be a sexy immortal lady that’d bite innocent boys and girls that just want to have a good time lol

44. What’s the best song a friend has ever introduced to you? 

this oneee

45. Parlez-vous français? 

no~

46. Most beautiful place you’ve been to? 

butchart gardens

47. Where/when do you truly feel at home? 

here

48. Does smiling put you in a better mood? Try it right now, you’re smile is gorgeous! 

kdjfalkfjdlkdsaf //hides

this ask is flirting with me…

well that’s as much action as im going to get this new years eve lol

49. Favorite shoe you own?

my sweet rose gold kicks, yo.

50. Can you walk in stilettos? Do you like them? 

lol no. i cannot. and i do not. im not made for heels. im tall enough as it is.

51. Do you feel loved? 

every time i talk to my mutuals yes //cry

52. How do you express love to those you care about? 

by saying cute words and by clinging to them like a koala.

53. Favorite term(s) of endearment? 

sweetheart, dear, idk im just like anything honestly. love, baby. go crazy.

i also love mean terms like idiot and stuff. or nicknames that hold inside jokes, something between the two of you only.

54. Most romantic thing someone’s ever done for you? 

hasn’t happened yet. so yeah. any takers? lol

55. When is the happiest you’ve ever been? 

reading a good book for the first time. or just experiencing something new that i end up loving for the first time. nothing can replace that first feeling.

56. Are you happy right now? 

happy im almost done hahhahahahaa. ha.

no but srsly i am

57. What makes you smile? 

stupid jokes. puns. someone laughing and showing themselves fully.

58. Do you laugh a lot? 

i mean. i think so? i try. i make jokes a lot and laugh at myself if that counts?

59. What’s your favorite kind of aesthetic? 

ughhhh comfy bf aestheticcc

60. Do you want to marry for love or for some other reason (like money)? 

i have a sour view on marriage. so only if i love someone hard enough. but even then i don’t know if i’ll do it. it hurts too much to think about marriage and wedding rings for me.

61. What would your dream wedding look like? Do you want to get married? 

see above.

62. Favorite flower?

orchid.

63. Favorite artist?

claude monet.

64. Favorite music artist?

bts lol

no surprises there.

65. How kind do you think you are? Is kindness important to you? 

its not something for me to decide. i try to be kind to everyone, but how it is interpreted is different for everyone. i’d like to think i’m kind.

and yes, very important. especially being kind to yourself.

66. Ever made a playlist for someone? 

yes i have. i love making playlists for people. i don’t get asked that enough.

67. Do you have anything you do to physically comfort you when your sad? Such as a favorite blanket? Or a relaxing bath? 

music. music always helps. and tea.

ideally i’d love for someone to massage my scalp, but hahah no one’s been able to do it the right way. when it’s done right i melt and forget about everything.

68. Early bird or night owl? 

night owl.

moonchild, lol

69. Morning routine? 

wake up, look in the mirror, look away from the mirror, go back to bed.

70. Night routine? 

SHOWER N NICE SMELLING LOTIONS. AND SKINCAREEEEEE OOOOF.

also fresh sheets.

71. What is the most lovely quality a person could have in your opinion? 

answered here

72. Do you cry often? Does crying help you get the emotions out? Do you feel better after? 

i only cry when i watch or read something. and it does help. i always feel better after. but i tend to keep my emotions hidden away, the negative ones at least.

73. Do you like hugs? 

i love hugs. come hug me, bro.

u must smell nice tho.

74. When was the last time you kissed someone?

august.

75. Are you small or tall? 

tall. 175cm.

76. Do you like wholesome memes? 

answered

77. Favorite thing about the past? 

cd players. chia pet commercials. flip phones. mom jeans.

78. Do you ever wonder about the future? 

all the time. esp mine. i have no idea what the fuck im doing.

79. Have you ever lived in a different country than you currently live in? 

yep. i’ve lived in america and canada before. and traveled a lot.

80. Do you like plane flights? Airports? 

i don’t mind flying. and depends on the airport. some are better than others.

81. Sunrises or sunsets? 

sunrises. every day is a new day~

82. The beach or a forest? 

bitch- i mean beach. :)

83. What time of day do you tend to be in the best mood? 

any time i am eating. or sleeping. or reading.

im so close to being done omg. this is fun tho.

84. Do you push yourself to act together and in a good mood even when you aren’t? 

always. ain’t nobody gonna deal with that baggage lol

85. Favorite kind of tree? 

japanese maple tree

86. Do you care about the health of the Earth? 

i mean i don’t even care about my health that much tbh, i need to work on that.

87. What did you like most about your childhood, if anything? 

that i got to travel and learned english very young.

88. Do you read a lot? What’s your favorite book? 

answered here

89. What are you most nostalgic for at the moment? 

old school disney

90. What’s your favorite personality trait you have? 

answered this bad boi here

91. List at least ONE thing you love about your appearance. 

eyes. have to work on my ass tho. squats baby.

92. When was the last time you truly felt calm, without much of anything to worry about? 

after a massage.

93. Do you worry a lot? 

eh, i worry enough, i suppose. there’s just some stuff you can’t control.

94. The dazzling lights of the city or the relaxing countryside?

dazzling lights of the city. especially in the evening. and in the winter. ahhhhh. someone hold my hand and walk with meeeeee.

95. Ever changed the shoelaces on one of your shoes? For what reason? 

no i haven’t had that pleasure, lol

maybe next year

96. Favorite pastry? 

BUTTER. CROISSANT.

97. Do you like doing little acts of kindness? 

yes. uwu

98. How’s your day/night going? 

well im finally done with this ask holy shit, and i need to resume writing my namjoon fic so… fantastic. i also have noodles. whoooo.

thank you for reading this whole damn mess of an ask.

ily

[thorne93]

The Newcomer (Part 4)

Prompt: You’re Y/N Beauchamp, daughter to Wendy Beauchamp. When you’re sent away to Spenser Academy, you have no idea what waits for you there…

Word Count: 1743

Warnings: language, violence, anger…

Notes: This is for @xx-multi-fandom-imagines challenge! Crossover of The Covenant, and the show Witches of East End. Beta’d by @like-a-bag-of-potatoes and @carryonmyswansong. Wouldn’t be possible without brainstorming with @carryonmyswansong, so thank you for that, darlin!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Caleb wasn’t exaggerating when he said it was a lot to take in. He took you to the library in his mansion where the boys pieced together their own histories for you. Tyler told you about the Simms, Reid filled you in on the Garwins, Caleb the Danvers, etc.

They elaborated more on spells they could cast, such as a Darkling. Darklings could manifest on their own. They could come in the form of a dead spirit. Or it could be a real spirit itself warning someone that possesses their type of magic of death. Seeing a Darkling was never good, it was usually an omen.

They explained to you that they didn’t want to use out in the open, so you respected that. Caleb seeme the most conservative with it, probably due to his dad. Reid on the other hand was so lax with it, it hurt you to watch him abuse them sometimes.

But, you tried to do everything to keep him from needing to use them.

Whenever possible, you used a copy of Freya’s Brain-batch brownies. A special batch of brownies that helped sharpen the mind. It was like a temporary eidetic memory. Anything that someone had seen or heard in the last month was instantly accessible, like a computer without any lag. It came in handy for tests. It wasn’t cheating because it used the person’s own memories, it just sped up the process and sharpened the processing.

The guys really liked your brownies and were thankful that you were willing to use your powers and share them with them.

To show your appreciation of them taking such good care of you, you got them each little enchanted gifts over the course of a few weeks. After you poured your heart and soul into ideas for them, you began gifting them.

First, Pogue’s was a bewitched helmet. It would protect him even if a semi-truck hit him.

“You got this for me?” he asked as you handed it to him in the shop.

“Yeah. I figured you know, to say thanks,” you said with a shrug. “Try it on, make sure it fits.”

He pulled it on and sported it around for you for a minute before taking it off. “So… what’d you do to it?”

“Why do you always think I have an ulterior motive?” you asked, sounding hurt.

“Because you do,” he reminded with a laugh.

You returned the chuckle as you nodded. “Well, it may or may not be enchanted,” you said with a shrug.

“I knew it. Is this… okay? It won’t shine a light for your grandfather will it?”

“The King? No,” you assured with a shake of your head. “A measly little helmet isn’t going to do that. But that isn’t all…” You walked over to his very expensive, brand new Ducati. You waved your fingers over the bike three times, chanting a spell you’d heard Ingrid do once on her brand new car.

“Now what the hell did you do?” he asked as he sauntered over to the bike, examining it for changes.

“I simply made your bike so that it would never need to be repaired. Aside from oil and gas, this baby is ready to travel coast to coast every day for the next fifty years,” you informed with a gleaming smile, boasting your powers a bit.

“Oh man. Wow. Thanks, Y/N. I don’t know what we’d do without you,” he said before he punched you lightly in the shoulder.

“I perish the thought, Perry,” you teased before sticking your tongue out, making him laugh.

Next was Reid’s. Which was an enchanted ring that only activated at his touch. It was a dragon that curled around itself.

The two of you were standing in his dorm as he took the little velvet pouch from you and dumped the ring into his palm?

“Jewelry?” he asked incredulously. “I’m not really a dragon man but…”

“Forget about the dragon. Put it on,” you instructed.

He gave you a curious look but obliged. Once it was on, it tightened around his finger and the jewel in its eye seemed to illuminate.

“Woah, shit. What’s it doing?” he asked, jumping back a little, intrigued more than anything.

“It’s a protector. It’s first job is to protect you, but I know how sometimes you hate sitting in class. This will give you an illusion to cast. The illusion can talk, respond, think just as you would, but you can leave it undetected.”

“That’s badass,” he noted. “So how long? How do I get away without being spotted?”

“Whenever you want to leave, wave your other hand over the dragon, say ‘exitus’ and it’ll cloak you while it creates an illusion based on your current state. You'll have about sixty seconds to get away before you’re spotted again.”

“Wait, but even if i skip class, I’ll still be missing information, which means I’ll flunk.”

“Oh, didn’t I mention the ring is also a recording device? As soon as it’s activated, it starts.”

“Holy shit. You thought of everything,” he complimented as his gaze danced between you and the ring. “This is awesome.”

You shrugged with an impish grin. “I try. I know you’d like to use your powers to escape so… maybe this will help. But don’t abuse it! Please?” you requested. “I don’t want you falling behind and then your mom is coming to find me to beat my ass.”

“Hey, I’d never let that happen,” he assured before throwing his arm over your shoulders. “But I won’t abuse it. Promise.”

“Thanks, Reid.”

Following that was Tyler. His gift was a tad more practical, but he needed it.

Sitting in the library, he was swamped with books.

“Hey, Ty,” you greeted as you sat down across from him.

“Hey, Y/N.”

“Busy studying?” you questioned.

He didn’t glance up at you at all, he merely responded, “Yeah. Sorta. Could we catch up later?”

“Oh, yeah sure, I just need to give you this,” you said, sliding a royal blue book with gold patterns on it towards him along with a black fountain pen. “I’ll be off now.”

“Woah, what the hell is this?” he asked, picking it up. “Is this more homework from Chem? God I swear--”

“It’s not schoolwork, dude,” you assured. “This is a Learner Ledger,” you informed proudly.

“A what?” he wondered, a trace of annoyance in his tone.

You heaved a sigh and yanked the book back, opening it. “Put your notes in here. Write down whatever you hear in lecture or learn here. Tap the pen, this pen exactly against the last page of notes. The ink will disappear but all of the notes will be here.” You reached up and poked him in the forehead.

“How is that different than taking notes or your brownies?”

“I’m glad you asked. The brownies are temporary, mainly right before an exam. These will help with pop quizzes and finals. Not to mention, how often have you taken notes and actually retained anything?” you teased and he threw a crumpled up ball of paper at you. You laughed as you swatted it away. “Hey, I’m just saying. I can take this back if you want,” you said, starting to pick it up.

Quickly, his hand was across the table, grabbing for the book.

“I’ll take the damned book.”

“Atta boy,” you said with a wink before you got up.

That only left Caleb. What could you possibly get a guy who never used magic, rocked on the swim team, studied hard, and never asked for a single thing?

But that’s when it hit you. You pulled out your potions handbook that Freya had made for you and looked for what you needed.

It was only a few nights later that you showed up at Caleb’s doorstep, pizza and a two-liter in hand.

“Y/N,” he greeted with a touch of fondness and shock. “What brings you by?”

He stepped aside to let you in and you explained, “Well, I’ve been giving each of you guys gifts. Sort of a...well a thank you for all that you’ve done.”

“You don’t have to do that,” he assured. “We’re happy to take you in and look after you.”

You shrugged and nodded. “I know, but what kind of Beauchamp witch would I be if I didn’t graciously thank my new witch family?”

He grinned widely at you. All of the boys had gotten to know a lot about your family’s history -- what you could remember and what you’d been told. Not to mention, each of them inquired about you to their families that filled in the gaps as well.

“Fair enough. So my gift is pizza? I heard you gave Pogue an enchanted helmet…” he said with a raised eyebrow.

You laughed lightly. “I did. But no, the pizza isn’t your gift. Could you show me where your mom keeps the alcohol?”

Caleb hesitated for only a moment. He didn’t like people knowing about his mom, but with it being a small town, everyone knew. However, you were different. You’d been over to his house enough to know the problems that went on at home. You’d even been by several times to see his father, help with errands. You were just like the other boys, a part of the family. He didn’t keep things from you, and he even confided in you once about his mom’s alcoholism.

“Uh, sure,” he said uneasily. “What’s up?” he asked as he started to usher you into an ornate den.

“I have something that I think might help both of you.”

He showed you to a cabinet that was full of liquor bottles.

“This,” you said, holding up a small vial full of candy green liquid, “is a healing potion.” You uncorked one bottle and put a drop in, repeating the process as Caleb watched you. “So now, when your mom drinks, every drink will heal her. It won’t be addictive though. So she’ll feel better, but she won’t put together that the alcohol is doing it.”

“Damn. That’s pretty good,” he complimented.

“I know!” you boasted with a proud grin. “That’s my gift to you,” you assured, taking his hand and squeezing gently. “The other part of my gift is a night off from taking care of everyone. You and I are going to have a movie night, with pizza and drinks, alright?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he teased.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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[kpopyourcherryy]

Patient Confidentiality - (H/M)

A/N; Our third spooky smutty installment for our Halloween Smut festa, that was extremely delayed lol  Hopefully the wait was worth it~

Genre; Hella smut 

Length; 11,000+ words aka long af just like Xiumin’s d i c c

Kink(s); exhibitionism/public stuff, impact play, Daddy kink, a tad bit of blood play, etc

AU(s); Vampire!Au

    You pulled your sweater closer to your body to fight off the shivers that wracked your being. Mornings like these you often wished you were home, cuddled up to your cat reading through your grandmother’s old diaries. They were soft leather-bound books filled to the brim with your grandmother’s thoughts and spells. You were sure your beloved “Ma’s” soul was strung to those diaries, somehow. The pages lifted before your hand could move them. More often than not they would caress your palm as they turned, like small kisses. You should have bought one with you; it would have helped to pass the time.

    The automatic A/C unit made the ICU cold during the early morning. Your only company were the nurses making super early rounds and the humming of machines that wafted out of patient rooms. Lights more often than not were off as patients slept, sometimes you could catch the sound of a prayer.     Hospitals were a sensitive subject for you, you adored your work as a nurse, being surrounded by the flow of so much energy invigorated you. Still, there were the times when death’s icy cold fingers would rub down your spine teasingly as it went to claim one of the patients. You frowned at the thought of death. How many times had you felt that tickle across the nape of your neck or felt the air go still?

    You eyed the clock wearily as the hand struck 7:00 AM. You rolled your neck searching for the source of its stiffness. You’d been sitting for too long. You rose from your chair at the nurse's station and proceeded to walk the floor. The fluorescent lights that lined the hall buzzed, echoing in your ear, a reminder of the emptiness.     The whiteness of the walls was blinding- making your eyes ache. A small pain started behind your eyes as you continued peaking your head in and out of patient rooms, checking charts and doing vitals.  Most of the time patients responded well unless they were having an "altered mental state" moment.  Even then, most of them were polite, just a bit stubborn about remaining still and receiving medication.

    You sighed as you came upon room 722. You loved your job. Honestly, it fulfilled you in ways hard to describe in words, but sometimes, you struggled. This particular patient was cantankerous, jaded as if he'd lived a thousand lifetimes even though he was only 28. You had to psyche yourself to see him every time you came to his room. The sliding doors opened to reveal him sitting in the recliner. The clunky dialyzer buzzed, signaling its completion of therapy. You masked up and threw on a  sanitation gown and gloves.

    "Mr. Kim, your dialysis is over. I'm going to remove the tubes and seal up your permacath, alright." He nodded and pulled the blanket down to reveal tubing in his chest.  He hated the cold feeling of his blood draining out of his body and reentering it. The shivers that came with being treated for his failing kidneys often reminded Minseok of the months before his hospitalization.  He’d been living it up, albeit it in a cliche manner. A young investment banker, with too much money and too little morals, was a bad combination.     The liquid lunches, energy drinks and a preexisting condition he had no knowledge about had brought him here. It was gradual. Unlike all the “fun” diseases, he didn’t suddenly pass out in the street. His strength and vitality melted from his body day by day. His bones grew heavy and his face gaunt. Minseok recalled the day he was admitted into the damned ICU. He came for what he presumed was a stomach bug. The attendants took blood and urine, everything  was “normal.”  When they came back they all but stripped him of his clothing at told him he wasn’t going anywhere soon. So here he sat, three weeks and nine sessions later still hoping that his kidneys would make a rebound.

    The cute nurse that handled the tubes in his chest often made him laugh over the course of the past week. Granted, it was more often than not at your expense. Minseok could admit, he was grouchy and sluggish from all the medication and often took it out on you. You were never around when he was decent enough to apologize for his actions, so your dynamic consisted of his slurred and sarcastic words and your ‘hmms’ of nonchalance. Your unyielding patience with him made Minseok want to test you. He pouted and refused to listen at times just to see how much you could take. It was a dick move, yes, but it gave such great entertainment until he could be let go from this hell hole.

    With great care and patience, you unhooked him from the machine making sure all his clamps were closed before you sanitized the area on his chest and seal him back up. It took you some time to get the seal to lay flush against his chest.

“Aren’t you a little touchy there, Nurse,” Minseok teased. At least he wasn’t wallowing about being in the ICU today.

“You wouldn’t know what to do with ‘touchy’ so I think it’s best we stop here. Don’t you think?” The mask muffled your sarcastic words.

    As Minseok readied a response, the doctor walked in, surrounded by a plethora of new residents. They followed Dr. Byun like little ducklings chattering amongst themselves. The doctor spoke about how hemodialysis worked, how in Minseok’s particular case his kidneys were not completely gone, they still gave output just not enough. The two of you watched as she explained all of this and then some. You noticed one resident off to the side, the way he looked beyond his professor and at Minseok’s chest was different, to say the least.     The longer you stared, the more you began to notice things that were off about him compared to the others. He was pale, not like the usual Korean pale, but sickly, almost dead, pale. Something about him gave you chills, and he just seemed to have lived for millennia already- his soul was old despite his body remaining young. As Dr. Byun went on with his explanation in the next plan for treatment to get Minseok up and out of here, your eyes widened when you watched the young man's eyes change from their deep rich brown to the iciest shade of grey.

    The extraordinary sight caused your heart to feel as if it had stopped altogether, he must’ve known you had seen him though because his eyes peeled of Minseok and onto you. He gave you this look as if he already knew what you were as well. Motioning towards the door, the young man silently told you to follow him as he suddenly dipped out of the room.     Your eyes followed him out, but before you left you said your goodbyes as the doctor and her residents took their own leave, as well as made sure your patient was comfortable.

“Where are you going?” Minseok jeered as you poured him a cup of water, his eyes looming over you while that toothy smirk sprawled across his face. “Let’s finish our conversation.”

    With a small shake of your head, you handed him the plastic cup while rolling the small bedside table beside him. “I need to go finish my rounds, Mr. Kim-” You replied, “Make sure you stay seated for a little longer before you stand, and remember to press the call button if you need anything else.”

    Minseok scoffed, rolling his eyes at your professionalism while flashing that still adorably handsome grin of his. “Alright, alright, Ms. Y/n.” He playfully retorted, “Go do your business, but once you’re done, you better get back over here and have dinner with me.”  

    You walked out, eyes scanning for ‘young’ resident when a hand shot out and grabbed you by the shoulder. Its grip was absolute and unmoving.  

“Nurse Y/N, a pleasure,”  A lilting voice whispered into your ear.      Your eyes hardened at the sound, it was sickeningly sweet. He was trying to glamour you. You let your shoulders relax and your breathing slow as if he’d succeeded.  His grip loosened as he turned you around to see his handiwork. The smirk on his face dropped as you hemmed him against the wall. A speedy and powerful incantation had him bound until you decided otherwise.

“That wasn’t very nice of you… Resident Eunwoo,” You read off his tag, “How may I help you?”

    The smirk that previously melted from his face returned and grew into a full-blown grin. He fought against the binding as he stared you down, “You’re much more powerful than I would have imagined, Sweetling.” His words made your skin crawl, but they were all the confirmation you needed.

    He looked beyond you back toward Minseok’s room, “He’s going to die, you know. His kidneys aren’t the only problem, there’s a hole in his heart, too tiny for any machine to notice.”

    His warning had your heart dropping inside your chest. Part of you wanted to deny it, but you knew the powers of his kind.  “How-” You muttered, your voice trailing off as you released an elongated sigh, “How long does he have?”

    The vampire shrugged, devilishly grinning- knowing he just struck a nerve. “It’s hard to say.” He smoothly replied, still struggling against your spell. “But if you let me go, I’ll tell you. I might even feel grateful enough to save him.”

Save him…      Your eyes glimmered at his little suggestion, “Really?” You asked, watching as Eunwoo just simply nodded in response. Just as you were about to give in, you guard heightened once more. You remembered your grandmother's warnings when it came to bloodsuckers- they were tricksters, liars. They’d promise you anything your heart desired if it meant they could get what they want. 

    Immediately, you strengthened your intent on your incantation- tightening the hold you had on him, “How do I know you’re not lying? How do I know that the moment I let you go, you won’t just bolt out of here?”

“Look, little Miss Y/n,” Eunwoo scoffed, rolling his changing eyes at your rude assumption, “I don’t know how many others like me you’ve encountered, but by the look in your eyes I’ll assume I’m the first.” His words were cold and stern as he spoke, the playful glint he had in his eyes turned dull, “I don’t go back on my word. You let me go, and I’ll tell you how long the poor sap has- I’ll even let you watch me turn him.” 

    That smile of his returned as he saw your tension ease away at his words. “All I have to do is take some of my blood and put into his IV.” He added, knowing that an explanation of the process would comfort you a bit more than just his promise. “It’s a slow process. First, his body will begin to heal- the hole in his heart will close, then his kidneys will rejuvenate. After the healing process, he’ll begin to experience the side effects of turning- sun sensitivity, mood swings, insatiable hunger or a lack of an appetite…”

    You had to think about this wisely- were you really going to change a man’s entire life, just to save it? “When will he turn com- completely?” You asked.

“Five days.” Eunwoo simply replied, “Five days max. He’ll be a new man, but he’ll be dangerous. His new hunger for blood will consume him and the rage that will weave with it will make him want to devour anyone- and you won’t be an exception.”

    Though you still had your doubts about him, he didn’t seem to have anything to gain from lying. As you gradually lifted his bind, the vampire crossed his arms over his chest. 

“Good, you trust me.” He hummed, “Now, are you sure you want to know?”

    Immediately, you nodded before nervously running your fingers through your hair, “Tell me, that was our deal.”

    Eunwoo nodded, sighing as he turned his eyes to the floor for a split second before glaring back down at you. “I’d give him a week, maybe less.” He began, his tone becoming apologetic the more he spoke. He could feel this odd spiritual connection you seemed to have with the sickly man, and due to living a long life of outliving those he had grown fond of, he pitied you. “His heart is too weak now, and his body is beginning to fail him- even more so than before. He won’t respond to any more treatments. What is the use of dialysis if the blood is already dead?”

    A confused look made its way onto your face. Blood wasn’t “alive.” Sure it was the life source but it didn’t do anything spectacular on its own.  You considered putting the binding back on him but the look  Eunwoo’s eyes spoke the truth. There were some things that couldn’t be explained by science, you of all people knew that.

“Okay..” You said with a huffed breath while nodding, your mind wandered as you thought about your patient. “When do you want to…” Your voice trailed off, “When do you want to do this? When do you want to turn him?” 

    The resident moved his arms from his chest down, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his white coat. “We can do it tonight- while he’s sleeping.” He responded, that smirk dissipating the more serious the conversation became. “No one can know except for the two of us, and him once the process is done. Before he turns completely, we’ll need to get him out of the hospital. His hunger and the need to feed will turn him completely ravenous. He’ll kill doctors, nurses, patients- anyone- to satisfy it. He’ll need to be somewhere far away from the city and secluded.”

Overthinking wreaked havoc inside your mind as he continued- What if you two weren’t able to get him out on time? What if someone caught y’all moving him? How would you even go about explaining it? Oh yeah, we just turned him into a vampire and he has only a day or two to leave the hospital before he turns into a ravenous beast.

“How?” You simply asked, “How would we move him with him lucid and without being caught?”

    Eunwoo pressed his lips together, becoming lost in thought for a moment before looking as if a light went off in his head. “We won’t- well he won’t be lucid. We’ll need to sedate him, mildly at least just so he won’t remember the way out of the city and find his way back somehow after he’s turned.” He explained, clicking his tongue. “But we can get him out through the stairway towards the back of the hospital, I heard it’s been unused for a couple years now, plus it’ll be the quickest way to get to either your or my car.”

    You knew the stairwell he spoke of; it was roped off after the remodeling started a couple years back. They’d just abandoned it along with the old South Wing.  That part of the hospital had always been a maze of hallways and hidden rooms. As long as you moved fast, the two of you could get Minseok out.

“Wait, who is to say he wants any of this? Maybe he would rather die.” The thought brought tears to your eyes. You didn’t want him to pass but if it’s what he preferred then letting it happen would be for the best.

“That human in there wants nothing more than to live,” Eunwoo quelled your fears. “If you are so unsure, ask him yourself. Just let me know before lunch tomorrow”  The air was pregnant with Eunwoo’s words as he sauntered off, disappearing behind the doors that led out of the ICU.

    Minseok watched as you left his room to follow behind that sickly looking resident. He wondered what you could be talking about with a schlep like him. The green haze of jealousy fell over his eyes as his mind raced over the possibilities.  He’d hoped you weren’t dating the resident. Minseok has seen enough hospital dramas to know that one of you would end up dead or a nasty split would happen. The chartreuse monster on his shoulder hoped the latter.     He watched as you made your way back into his room with a crestfallen expression. You quickly grabbed a rolling chair and seated yourself in front of him. Your beautiful features were marred by the nervousness that clutched you.

“Mr. Kim, there is something important that I need to speak with you about. It pertains to your health,” The shakiness in your voice remained relatively hidden in your professionalism. “I doubt they actually got you the forms before snatching you up here but I wish you speak with you about your options.”  

Minseok’s eyebrows arched in confusion, “What options?”

    You licked your lips, a cold sweat started down your back.  You weren’t lying per se but you weren’t telling him the whole truth of what he would become. Still, you needed some sort of answer from him. “I’m afraid to say this, but..” You began, your tone steadying out though it remained sorrowful. You wanted to tell him everything right then and there, but you knew if you did he’d laugh you off. 

    Grabbing one of the chairs from the little bedside table, you dragged over to the spot in front of him before taking a seat. You hated, despised, giving patients news such as this, but it was necessary you did for you allowed Eunwoo to go on with the plan, “I’m sorry, but I- we aren’t sure if treatments will work on you anymore..”

    The usually playful man’s expression became stone, his heart dropped at your words. He couldn’t die- no, he couldn’t. There were too many things he wanted to do- so many things he wanted to accomplish. “But- But, Doctor Byun just sounded so hopeful... H- How could things seem to be beginning to look up and suddenly just come crashing down like this? I don’t understand...” He stuttered out, his voice cracking as he battled with the tears that began to tease his eyes. “Am I going to die, Y/n?”

    An audible gulp emanated from you as your voice seemed to be clogged in your throat. You couldn’t say much, so through your silence, you just offered him a simple nod. “But..” You finally said as you tried rationalizing you and the resident’s plan. “But there’s an experimental treatment, I can try to get it to you- but I need to know…”

“You need to know what!?” Minseok nearly shouted, scooting to the edge of his seat as he instinctively intertwined his hands with yours.

    You could feel the blood rush to your cheeks, not only from his sudden show of affection- whether it was intentional or not- but his gestures silently confirmed his desire to live. “I know it may be a stupid question, but do you want to live?” You asked, though you knew the answer. “The drug is experimental, but..”

    Again he cut you off, eagerly nodding as his grasp on your hands tightened. “Of course I do!” He replied, using whatever strength he had to pull you near. Once you were close enough, he rested his forehead against yours while his thumbs grazed your knuckles, “I don’t want to die, Y/ n.. I’m not ready yet..”

“I know..” You airily replied as a soft sigh slipped past your lips. “I’m going to try to help you as much as I can, okay?”

    The two of you stayed there, just as you were for a moment longer; the complete emotional distress you both seemed to be under only brought you closer, even if it were only for the time being. Your heart really ached for him, because though he was so successful and so young- he seemed to have been missing something. He had to have, you could feel that void he carried with him.

    Slowly, you moved away from him, reluctantly retracting your hands from his as you stood from your seat. “Where are you going?” He asked, peering up at you with this saddened glint in his eyes that made him look like an injured animal. It felt as if he were silently begging you to stay, to not leave him alone.

    You offered Minseok a sweet reassuring smile as you gently rubbed the backs of his hands, “I’ll be back later, okay?” You replied, “I promise, but I need to talk to the doctor in charge of the medication. Are you sure you want this though?”     The question that left you had you feeling like such a fraud. You lied through your teeth, speaking about the vampiric virus as if it were a simple vaccine- asking him if it were what he wanted though he no clue about what was really about to happen to him.

    Minseok watched you go with a doleful expression. Your back looked tense as you scurried from the room. He thought of what you’d just told him. Being here in this damned room wasn’t worth shit if it the “ treatments weren’t working.”  Four hours of his life were taken three times a week here.     While it may sound like a pittance to some, it meant the world to Minseok. He could think of a million things he’d rather do, like getting to know the nurse a little more...intimately. You consumed all of his waking thoughts for the past few days. He’d grown quite attached to you in a short period of time.  You always smiled so wide and genuinely, even if he could only see the outline beneath the mask you wore while changing his bandages... The contour of your neck was so artful to him as it slid down into your shoulder.

    You made your way around, spoke to patients and families, tried your best to get your work done. The pitiful look on Minseok’s face was burned into your eyelids. How are you supposed to do this to him? What was going to happen?       Eunwoo has been more than brief in his explanation. There was a possibility that your grandmother’s grimoire had information on it. The book was placed in a special case hidden under your bed. You hadn’t touched it since she passed. Your mind’s eye conjured an image of the small case and the book inside. It was thick, bound in inky black leather. The pages, yellowed with age, were filled with the promise of magic and power. You could hear the crinkle of the paper, the smell of ink-stained parchment filled your nose. Yes, there would be something in there, even the smallest details would help.

    The day shifted into the afternoon and melted into the evening. You could see more and more stars popping into existence. The translucent moon became more opaque as the sun began to sink below the horizon. Your shift was coming to a close and your feet hurt. The throbbing in your legs became unbearable and a pained moan slipped through your lips.

“What a pretty sound. You should be careful about making them so freely.” Eunwoo seemed to appear from nowhere as he joined you at the Nurse’s Station.  His coal black eyes shimmered with amusement. “Tell me, Witchling, what has the mortal said?”

    You thought back to the conversation you had with Minseok. You felt the aching will to live that radiated off him as he tightly held your hands. ‘I don’t want to die’ His words rang through your mind as you stayed there silent for a moment longer. “Do it..” You faintly replied, sighing as you began sorting through files and paperwork that scattered your station. “He wants to live, just as you said. And if he wants to live- then he should..”

    Eunwoo nodded in agreement, smirking as his eyes crawled over you. “Very well then,” He politely replied, resting his intertwined hands on top the counter. “You know, Miss Y/n, you’re quite nice on the eyes.” Taking a deep inhale at the air around you, an impish smirk painted across his face. “You smell heavenly as well. It’s so very tempting.”

    You felt your chest tighten at his words, and instinctively you kept your eyes glued to the extensive paperwork. “I suggest you don’t say things like that.” You huffed, “I’ll put you another bind on you, but it won’t be as gentle as my last one.”

    Your little warning earned you one of his soft chuckles. Running his fingers through his brunette hair, he nodded, “I’m sure you will,” He hummed, “Such a feisty little witchling, aren’t you?”

“Bet your tall ass I am.” You wittily responded while putting each paper in its correct file. “So tonight?” You asked, keeping your voice monotone despite the previous joking around.

    Eunwoo’s face hardened and all traces of teasing left his face. “Yes, here is the syringe with my blood in it.” He placed it in your palm, the scent of iron still clinging to it.     Despite the thick plastic, you could feel the warmth of Eunwoo’s blood sitting inside.  Staring at the vial there was something off about it. You’d handled many blood bags in your days but they felt as “heavy” as the syringe in your hand.

“Careful witchling, that’s not human blood. My kind may drink from others but yours have too much fun. Blood Magic, powerful shit,” Eunwoo jabbed.

    He was right but you’d never even thought to dabble in that, especially without a proper teacher. Still, the blood sung out to you. It whispered tantalizing promises and made the hair on the nape of your neck stand. You pocketed the syringe and tried to forget about it as the night wore on. Some patients were moved to lower floors, others had some minor aches and pains, overall a quiet evening.     You watched as the clock struck seven for the second time that day, gathered your things and clocked out. Officially, you were gone, everyone “saw” you leave and said their goodbyes. A little bit of work and a glamour of your own left you virtually invisible.  Now you were just another faceless attending nurse.

    You went to check on Minseok to find him peacefully sleeping sprawled out in bed. Your eyes drifted to the permacath in his chest. It was covered in layers of sanitized cloth and tape. The lump of protection was visible beneath his gown as it stood proudly on his chest. Even in the sickly artificial light of the room, his cheeks were still flushed. You wondered how he could be so lively even though he was dying.      Stealthily, you crossed the room and lay your palm on his forehead. He was warm and fleshy like all people were. You’d expected death to already have its grips around Minseok. 

    He stirred, soft moans leaving his mouth. You froze, afraid he would wake before you were ready. As he settled down again you closed your eyes and let tingle in your fingertips move into your palm. Tendrils of magic left your hand and sank into him, searching for the sickness inside. The feeling of death swaddled you as you continued to “feel” your way around. It was clear that he was dying but it still felt too ambiguous. Eunwoo has told you the truth, there was a tiny hole in his heart and his kidneys were definitely failing.     Your eyebrows furrowed, there was something else you were missing! It came to you a strike of lightning. It was his blood. Eunwoo’s words from earlier struck you. Minseok’s blood was dead, there was no mana in it. His body was simply acting as a machine, soon enough it would break down.

    You drew your hand away from him, shaken by your revelation. The pounding of your heart deafened you to Eunwoo’s entrance. “Y/N?” He softly called out to you, his tone littered with concern.

    You looked over to where he stood by the entrance, staring you down. His normally gaunt face softened in concern. The syringe in your pocket felt like boulder holding you in place.

“I’m okay. Let’s get this done.” Your voice was scratchy as if you hadn’t used it in centuries.

    The vampire strolled to the other side of Minseok’s bed pulling a bag of blood from his coat pocket. He set the IV up; soft beeps from the machine felt like blaring horns going off around you.  Eunwoo reached across the bed to show an outstretched palm.

“My blood, please.” He chuckled at the irony of the statement. “How rare it is that a vampire asks for his own blood?”

    You gripped the syringe with a sweaty palm and thrust it into his hand.  Using a port on the bottom blood bag Eunwoo inserted his own. You could sense a difference, although there was no outward change. You imagined how his blood cells would ‘infect’ the bag, gobbling up the others cells and spitting them back transformed. You watched as blood rushed down the tube and flowed into Minseok’s arm.  The pounding of your heart returned tenfold.

    As Eunwoo finish injecting every last bit of his blood into the bag, he quickly put the needles protective cap back on and shoved it into his pocket. “He might seem to experience a little discomfort as my blood travels begin to travel through his veins.” He warned, seeing and feeling the anxiety that riddled you as Minseok began to toss and whimper. “It’s normal, and you may want to help him, but there’s nothing you can do- you just have to allow him to ride the pain out.”

One Month Later…

    Every day since that fateful encounter with Eunwoo- since you two turned Minseok, you slowly stopped going to work altogether after the two of you were able to safely get Minseok out of the hospital.     You remembered the lengthy drive up a winding road that led to a beautiful three-story house that was nearly completely made of glass and charcoal colored bricks. Then as Eunwoo helped get him into the house, you remembered just sitting with him while he laid on the couch until he woke up. His bloodshot eyes worriedly fixated on you after hurriedly glancing around his unfamiliar surroundings, but before you or he could say a word- Eunwoo ushered you out.

“You need to go now,’ He commanded through his sweet tone, “Once he fully turns, you won’t be safe. I’ll be here to make sure he doesn’t do anything drastic and I’ll explain everything that’s happening to him. So don’t worry, okay?”

    You speedily made your departure, sure not to look back as Minseok called out for you. The air around the cabin was tumultuous energies clashing, merging and falling apart again. You ran for the car shaky hands clutching the wheel as you drove off. You flew through the night back to your apartment, unsure of what would happen next. 

    Trembling you reached beneath your bed, to find your grandmother’s grimoire. You urgently flipped back and forth desperate to know something about what was happening so many miles away.     Your eyes ate the yellowed pages filled with charts and entries as you sat on your with knees bent on the floor for hours; drinking in all the information you could fathom. When you’d finally found the entry on blood exchange and vampires a sob broke free of your mouth. Your back ached from leaning over so long, your eyes reddened and tired were ready to close. You made note of the section and dragged yourself to bed.

    From that evening onward, you kept studying vampires and blood transfer, even a little bit of Blood Magic. Eunwoo hadn’t been lying, it was some powerful shit. It took immense concentration to complete the smallest of rituals and even those came with a hefty price.

    You sat in the center of your bed grimoire spread out, the pages flapping happily at being used again, with your laptop seated in your lap. Over the past month, it had become a comfort of sorts. Magic spilled from its pages saturating you and the bedroom creating this synergy and peace throughout you and your place.     As you continue to study, the sudden ringing of your phone drew you from you stroll down memory lane. You reached, squishing your laptop between the bed and your body to reach the device. The name that appeared on screen made all the color drain from your face.

“H-Hello, Eunwoo. How may I help you,” You asked primly.

    You could hear the strain in his deep chuckle on the other end of the line. “Now Y/N, don’t treat me like such a stranger. We’ve got a history together, you know. I was so sad to hear you’d ‘departed’ from the hospital.”

You cleared your throat, “Um, yes.  Well, these things happen. May I ask why you called?”

“Oh let's drop the falsehoods, Witchling. Your man is out and about, control hanging by the smallest thread. I’ve called to warn you. Don’t go anywhere near the hospital. We’ll talk later.” Eunwoo’s clipped voice and the subtle beep signaled the end of that conversation.

    Your eyes widened at the information you were just given. If he was ‘out and about’ already then he was looking to feed.       Frantically, you turned to the grimoire hoping that you’d misremembered a passage or two about the given situation. The book sensing your panic fluttered and flipped trying its best to help you get to the information faster. Tracing the words with your finger you reread the passage:

‘Newly-turned vampires will look to feed on the blood of a human or those of the “Other” after about a month's time. These creatures of the night, born again will fixate on either the scent of their beloved or will find the nearest being that suites their taste. In rare occasions, they will hunt for one who initiated their turn as they are the last human memory garnered before turning. A warning to this individual, lest you be “Other” and ancient it is best to avoid the newly turned beast. They are mercurial and volatile.’

    You sat back, biting your chapped lips. You didn’t know how but you knew he was looking for you. If he was skulking around the last place he really saw you, then that had to be it, right? That was what you reasoned with yourself. The time read 5:56pm on your laptop you’d since thrown to the side.     With a hefty sigh, you tossed yourself back onto your mattress- rubbing your temples as you pondered on what you should do.

    Minseok growled as your scent continued to fade. He followed it as far as he could, but couldn’t seem to track you anymore. “Where the fuck are you, Y/n?” He snarled to himself as he stalked around outside of the hospital, trying his hardest to find even a whiff of your sweet scent again. “Why are you hiding from me?” Kicking a broken branch out of his way, he went on. There had to be a place you would’ve gone to- your home, but where was it?

    The vampire bared his teeth as he thought back, trying to regain any of his memories while he was still human though it was futile, the last memories he had of you were the days that he remained in that blasted hospital until he woke up with you beside him- in that house, he preferred to call a prison, then as you left without even turning back.     He needed to find you. He wanted to taste just how sweet you really were, his hunger would be insatiable until he found you.

    As he started towards the parking lot, movement caught his eye. Immediately, he ran towards it, hoping it was you, but as he came to a halt- he realized it wasn’t.      He stood a good distance away and looked the woman up and down, comparing her frame to yours. She wasn’t you, but he was starving. His mouth watered as he smelt her blood while it flowed through her body. A crooked grin grew on Minseok’s face as he stalked toward her. He made sure his steps were light, unintimidating in the darkness. 

The vampire came upon her and grasped her shoulder gently. “Excuse me, Miss. I believe you dropped something,” his voice hid his dark intentions. 

    The young woman turned, large eyes wandering over Minseok’s face. He’d charmed her without a glamour, feline features drawing her in. She didn’t know who this strange man was but she could feel her blood pump faster and move south.

“Um, what was it? My ID?” She asked mousily. 

    Minseok could read her like a book. The arousal spilling off her smelled like warm, spiced vanilla. Her pupils were blown out and her heart was about to jump from her chest.

    Gently he placed a fallen strand of hair behind her ear. Her heart beat even faster. It seemed to Minseok she liked ‘classical’ romance.  A small closed-mouthed smile sat on his lips. This would be over quickly.

“I’m sorry,” he started, “you didn’t drop anything I just wanted a chance to speak with you.”

    The young lady nearly fainted. Never had a man come to her in such a way and never one as gorgeous the one in front of her. His steadying hand in her waist made her blush all the way down to her chest. Ready to respond she looked up into his eyes only the struck silent at their beauty. Suddenly she would give her life for him. Do anything he asked.

    Minseok’s stomach cramped in pain as he sold her honied words. He didn’t have the time to ‘court’ her so he decided to use his new built-in cheat. When their eyes met he glamours her. He caressed her delicate face, fingers drifting to her neck where her pulse thrummed beneath his fingers.

“Good girl, now stay still,” a hand tangled in her hair to give better access to the juncture of her throat and shoulder.

    Your legs pumped as you ran from the hospital into the parking lot. Minseok wasn’t in the building but he was definitely near. You’d managed to dip and dodge Eunwoo who would have surely told you to return home. Your head whipped left and right looking for any sign of the “man” you’d once treated. A little ways off to the left you could make out two forms, a man and woman. They seemed to be having a conversation. You initially disregarded it, thought it to be a regular couple as you continued to search.

    Biting your lower lip in complete and utter frustration, you moved down the parking lot- going little ways past the couple before you decided to shout. Maybe if I call- or he hears my voice, he’ll come to me instead.

“Minseok!” You shouted into the tense air that surrounded you and leaked into the parking lot. “Min- Minseok, it’s me. It’s Y/n! I heard you were looking for me!”

    The vampire’s head shot up before he could indulge himself. You enticing scent and melodic voice invaded his senses. Without a second guess, he pushed the young woman onto the floor. “Sorry, love-” He snarled as she slowly came out of his trance. “-The one I’ve been looking for is here.”

    He carelessly stepped over her legs as he took in your smell- following it until the middle of the parking lot. Your decadence enraptured him as his glowing orbs rested on your worn out converse before traveling up your shapely legs.

“Finally..” He purred, a primal smirk rested on his face as his gaze locked with yours. “Where have you been, my sweet?” He lowly asked, strutting over to you slowly then suddenly closing the gap between the two of you. “Are you afraid of me now? Are you afraid of the monster you created?”

    His rumbled words had you shivering and the odd warm iciness that radiated off him as he neared had you on edge.     Taking a step back, you shook your head; keeping eye contact with him. “No- No I’m not..” You stuttered, gulping as he once again closed the gap but this time he swiftly wrapping his arms around your waist pulling you close. “But I’m going you to need to come home with me okay? I can help you, I can help you live a normal life- just come with me..”

    You pat at his chest as you tried to calm the thumping in your own. His grip tightened around your waist, held you against the steel plate of his chest. Fear ate its way through you, all the time you’d put into learning meant little to nothing in this moment.     Your throat constricted as you looked past Minseok to the young woman passed out on the ground. She was safe as long as you kept his attention away from her. You contemplated whether being a martyr was ever truly worth it. Here in this moment to save not only her but Minseok you decided it was the right thing to do. You relaxed in his grip and steeled yourself for the inevitable.

“Am I not interesting enough for you, Y/N?” The irritation in Minseok’s voice was clear. He saw the way your eyes emptied out as you looked beyond him, sucked into your own world. He snarled in indignation.  

    The dim lighting of the parking lot made it the perfect setting for him to take you. He snatched your hair and pulled your head sideways exposing the expanse of your throat. Without touching or tasting he could tell the skin there was supple, his fangs would sink into you delectably.     A low hiss slid out of Minseok’s mouth, your pulse jumped just below your skin so prettily. The vampire bent his head and swiped his tongue over your neck. The tingle of magic on his tongue made him groan low in his throat.

“Y/N, just what are you?”  Minseok panted as he nipped over your collarbones. The taste of your skin was intoxicating and entrancing. He wanted to lick at all the parts of you still covered and to drain all the blood from your form. He reasoned that he could accomplish both feats if he played his cards right and controlled himself.

    His hot breath whispering over your chest made your eyes flutter shut. The urge to give in and let him have his way was overpowering as he continued to tug at your hair. The heated kisses and languid licks he trailed over your skin made you thob. His fangs scraped against your throat leaving rising welts behind. The thought of how his fangs would sink into your neck, blood filling his mouth made a small moan burst from your lips.     You knew he wanted to consume you, was at his most dangerous in this frenzy and you wanted him to take you.  The fantasy you built in your mind had him hovering over you, face stained with your blood after feeding on you.  His fangs would glint as a crazed and lust filled smile sat on his beautiful face. Those red eyes peered into you as he kissed down your body leaving a bloody trail behind him. His mouth would creep lower and lower until he met your aching heat.

“Y/N, Oh baby what are you thinking about? I can smell it on you, Darling.” Minseok rubbed his nose along the shell of your ear. You smelled of something dark and rich, spicy and indescribable. He loved the way you reacted to him. You were so willing and supple in his arms, just the way you seemed to melt into him as he enticing your alert flesh was utter perfection.

    Though you attempted to verbalize your sinful thoughts, nothing but mumbled soft whines. “Minseok..~” You finally crooned, your long fingernails digging into his clothes chest; dragging down towards his toned abdomen. “I..”

    His tongue flicked against your neck once again, leading more of your honeyed sounds out of you. “Such a naughty little thing…” He purred, the vibrations from his thundered tone heightened your arousal. “I love it- Your scent is so tempting, so magical- it’s as if you have some sort of spell on me... It makes me want to devour you in every fucking way possible.”

    Again his words, even his ironic statement had you enamored with his teasing lips and tongue. “Please do- I want to feel you..” You involuntarily mewled as you became completely flooded by your lust. Your chest rose and fell with every heavy breath you took.

    Slowly, the vampire began to move the two of you towards the shadows of the parking lot. His strong grip around you never left as he pressed your back into one of the cold, cement pillars. His free hand gracefully strode over your flushed cheek before wrapping perfectly around our throat, giving the sides a solid squeeze as he crashed his lips against yours.     The two of you consumed each other with pure lust, hunger, and desperation for one another. You could practically see the electricity that connected y’all just before your eyes seemed to roll back into your skull as the kiss deepened. His tongue swiped against your lower lip, begging for an entrance and the moment your lips parted, his muscle invaded your mouth; entangling it with yours in a needy power struggle.

    A throaty growl emanated from him as his hold on your waist tightened; his fingers that rested on your opposite side bruisingly pressed into you as he fought to control himself, but just the taste of you drove him and his senses insane.            Though he was more than sure he had full and total control over you, he began questioning it as he found it hard to break away. You seemed to have as much of a hold on him as he had on you.

    Reluctantly, he pulled away, leaving only centimeters between the two of you as he removed his arm from around your waist using his newly freed hand to join the other snug around your delicate neck. “I want to taste you..” He growled, using his sharpening fingernails to scrape the junctures of your throat. “I’m so hungry for you, my little girl-” He continued, the sweet yet sudden pet name slipping from him like velvet. “Every part of me craves you. I want to just sink my teeth into that pretty neck of yours and taste you.. Will you let me?”

    His question rang through your head. Biting your lower lip, your earlier thoughts invaded your lust clouded mind once again. His fangs puncturing your neck, blood filling his mouth and slowly trickling down- reaching your supple breasts. Then, as his hands ran down your body; smearing your fluid with it.  The thoughts only caused you to melt as he moved one hand from your throat, leaning in and using his sharp fangs and long tongue to tease your flesh.

“I- I..” You whimpered through the soft gasps, “I can’t.. You’ll kill me..”

    You shuddered as you felt his hot breath against your skin, your little statement earning one of his chilling snickers. “You’re such a silly little girl, aren’t you Y/n?” He jeered, easing up on his teasing. “What makes you think I’d ever harm you, darling?”

“Y-You’ve just been turned, Minseok,” You whispered, “You wouldn’t be able to control yourself.”

    Control. He’d been locked in that damn house to work on his control for a month. Minseok had always been a good study and restriction was just another skill he’d picked up along the way.  That hellish month away taught him more discipline that he’d learned in a lifetime.

“Trust me, Pet. Let it happen.” He purred, sweeping your hair away as he moved his hand from the side of your neck. Leaning in, his lips parted; planting sweet kisses along your awakened flesh, feeling you just melt at his touch. “Do you trust me?” He airily asked, flicking his tongue against the areas he marked.

    You gasped and whimpered as your hips began to buck up towards him, every part of you ached for him. Though you knew you shouldn’t, that you may very well lose your life to him, you just simply nodded as his question weakened your guard. “I do..” You hummed in response, clawing at his shirt the second you felt his fangs present on your skin.

Minseok’s lips curled into a grin, “Good,” He retorted, taking in your delicious scent. “It’ll only hurt for a moment, my pet, but I promise-” He began in a deep growled tone, “-I’ll take good care of you afterward..”

Before you could say a thing, his fangs broke skin, “Ahh!~” You loudly whined, struggling between him and the cool wall behind you as his dagger-like teeth sank deeper into your flesh.

    A throaty snarl emanated from him as your blood began trickling into his mouth. The balance of sweet yet salty flavor your blood was laced with was heavenly, his eyes rolled back as he drank you- adoring the way you coated his tongue and slipped down his throat. Your blood, your taste, made him realize the intensity of the starvation he felt before you.

    He held you there, feeling you become unsteady as he fed. He knew if he didn’t stop soon you’d either end up in the hospital… or dead. His hand that was still wrapped around the affliction free part of your throat tightly gripped you as he reluctantly pulled away. Your blood dripped from his fangs to his plush lips then down his chin before making its way onto your gorgeous skin.

“Mhmm,” He hummed licking his lips before pressing them against the little-dotted wounds, “I told you I could control myself, princess..” He added through his continued gentle attack on the injured area. “Want Daddy to make you feel better?”

“Daddy?” You delicately repeated, the sudden dominant pet name caused the warmth in your core to spread through you entirely. Your thighs weakly pressed and rubbed together as your mind went wild with thoughts of him taking you while you cried out the endearing nickname.

     That devilish smirk of his returned as he listened to the pet name slip from your kiss-swollen lips then as the scent of your heightened arousal invaded his nose. “Oh, such a naughty little girl..” He purred, moving his mouth from the crook of your neck to your jaw- taking small yet harsh nips at your skin along the way. “You like that? You like calling me Daddy, don’t you sweetheart?”

    Though you nodded in response, your head still felt light and your body tingled all over. The feel of his mouth on your skin lit you ablaze. You became brazen in your lust, threaded your fingers through his fluffy hair moaning for more.

“Daddy, please…” The word was like a foreign treat in your mouth, “ Please have me.”  

    The offer of your submission fogged Minseok’s mind. The scent of your blood and wetness combined fanned the flames of his hunger. He would not wait for beds and softness now. Maybe another time but he needed to be inside you.       Minseok wrapped his hand around your throat as he guided you back into the side of a little red car. You went so easily, mewling and panting for more. He thought you looked ravishing. The way your eyes clouded with unshed tears, an ethereal blush creeping down your body. The two holes from his fangs became surrounded by blotchy bruises reminded him of flowers. You were his pretty little tulip.  

    The car handle dug into your hip as he harshly pressed you against the car. His hand ran down your back, lightly ghosting his nails over your spine before reaching and groping your bum. “Fuck,” He grumbled, giving you an unforgiving swat. “You’ve got such a pretty little ass, but I think it’ll be just stunning after I bruise it up. Don’t you agree?”

    Immediately, you nodded as tears pricked your eyes. “Yes- Yes, Daddy.~” You shakily mewled back, perking your hips up and back towards him- enticing him with a playful little wiggle. “Mark me up, please…”

“So willing..” He hummed, hooking his long digits around the waistband of your bottoms; teasing the flesh underneath for a moment before swiftly yanking the clothing down, exposing your supple behind. “I bet I could do whatever I desired with you, and you’d just take it like a good little slut, hm?” He growled as he pressed and rubbed his hardened crotch into you.

    Again you nodded while sweet, desperation moans left you. You felt goosebumps rise on your skin as his hand moved down, inching closer and closer to your dripping heat. A soft whimper emanated from you the closer he came.

    Minseok snickered as he grazed your slit, feeling your slickness coat his fingertips. “Wow, you’re so fucking wet, princess..” He teased, diving deeper into your slit- adding pressure every time he passed your clit. “I bet I could make you come right now. It’d be so fucking effortless with how horny I have you.”

    He was right, in this tender state you could have come untouched. Your arousal dripped between your thighs as your pussy screamed for friction. You squeezed his hand as it rests between your legs, crazed and desperate for any form of relief.

   Another strike came down on your thigh, vibrations traveled to your core. Lightening flicked your spine at the combination of pleasure and pain. “Control yourself,” Minseok rasped in your ear. His voice, thick with heady lust, made you wetter. “You left me waiting in that shitty cabin, here is your penance.”

    The vampire rubbed his hands over your chest, palming your breasts roughly. His claws ran over your nipples making them jut out obscenely.

    Minseok’s eyebrows arched and settled as a smile grew in his face. “No bra? Here I was thinking you were so proper. You continue to surprise me.” He pinched your nipples rolling them between his fingers until your pants became breathy moans.  

“How sensitive,” The vampire commented to himself. He raised the material of your shirt and bent you over the hood of the car.  

    You let out an audible gasp as the cold metal came into contact with your chest and your bottom felt a draft of air.  The softness of your ass made Minseok melt just a bit. The crimson splotches across your lower back made his dick twitch.  

“I’m going turn you black and blue. You’re going to thank me for it, understand?”  Minseok grabbed your ass, his nails pricking and leaving small indents in your smooth skin.

    You resisted the urge to moan again and simply nodded your head in affirmation. The blows came quickly in rapid succession, one cheek and then the other. The welts that were surely forming did not have enough time to raise up before the next strike came. The cushy top of your thighs were on fire as he moved from just your ass.     You tried to claw forward away from the slaps as tears sprung from your eyes, but his steel grip on your hip kept you in place. The pleas shot between clenched teeth as your orgasm sat on knife’s edge. The pain was delicious, pushing you further toward coming. Your clit throbbed continuously as the slickness between your thighs dripped down onto your underwear; soaking the thin material.

    Minseok could feel the ache in his fangs as the blood rose to the top of your skin. It sat so close to the surface showing as the most darling bruises.  “Now, what do we say, Y/N?”

“Th- Thank you, Daddy.” You tearfully cried out, bucking your hips back towards him as you rested your forehead against the warming metal of the car’s hood. “Thank you so much..”

    The vampire chuckled at the pure desperation that was dripping from each word that you spoke. “Mhmm, such a good little slut-” He snarled, digging and clawing his way up from the backs of your sore thighs up to your welting bum before giving it one last final hit. “Again, baby, what do you say?”

“Ahh~,” You shakily hummed, squeezing your eyes shut as your thighs trembled while your body rode out the harsh electricity that ran throughout your entire form. “Tha- Thank you, thank you, Daddy.”

    Your whimpered thanks brought forth the most deviant thoughts in Minseok’s mind. He gave you a moment’s reprieve as he loosened his belt and popped open the button on his jeans. He pulled his dick from his pants and stroked himself as he gazed upon your body, laid over some stranger’s car.     With your legs spread open in such an inviting manner, he could see how your lips trembled anxiously waiting to be touched.  Minseok rubbed himself along your heat as more of your essence dripped down.

    The feel of Minseok tapping his dick against your entrance made you clench, the ache of not being filled drove you closer to madness.     You reached behind slipping two of your slender digits between your lips to spread yourself wider for him- hoping it’d entice him enough to give you what you needed. “Fuck me.”

    He chuckled darkly at your shameless display. It thrilled him to the very core to see you so needy, in fact, it brought forth one of his few remaining memories. You’d told him he wouldn't know what to do with touchy. How wrong you were and now you’d suffer for it. Minseok rolled into your pussy slowly, savoring the feel of your heated core.     A hiss rose from the between his teeth and melted into a throaty groan. His hips ground into you slowly, stroking deep inside. He watched as you covered him in your creamy wetness with deep satisfaction. The vampire drank in the sound of your breathless groans. He fucked you with intention, pulled himself nearly free and re-entered you with a long hard stroke. He twisted his hips, hitting everywhere inside of you, except the one place that mattered.

    The side of your face rested on the hood of the car as your mouth sat agape. Minesok was a wonder inside of you. The way he filled you completely, giving you the ultimate relief all while still teasing you had you seeing the stars and heavens.

“Da- Daddy.~” You breathlessly panted, your lower lip quivered as your body began silently nagging you for something more. You needed for him to give your most sensitive spot the attention it craved in order to toss you over the edge into that wonderfully dark abyss. “More, please.”

    Minseok wickedly grinned as the most sinful grunts and groans left him. He knew exactly what you wanted, what your body needed, but he wanted you to suffer there- longing for your release, just a while. “Beg.” He simply commanded, bruisingly gouging your hips with his fingertips as the blunt edges of his fingernails lanced into your flesh. “Beg and I might give you what you want, slut.”

    The degrading word only seemed to solidify your submission to him. Turning back towards him, your teary gaze met his heavy-lidded eyes. You could see the gorgeous greys and blues that speckled his iris swirl with lust while his dilated pupils fixated on your face.

“Please, Daddy.” You delicately whimpered, your voice trailing off for a second as he suddenly quickened his strokes. “I- I..” You struggled to speak as he stayed there, continuously fucking you through your pleas.

“What was that, whore?” He snarled while one hand cascaded up your arched back, tracing your spine before tightly weaving it in your messy hair. “Daddy can’t understand you when you sound so fucked out. Speak up.” He cruelly jeered.

    Your fingers curled and scraped against the metal, flakes of red paint stayed underneath your fingernails as you continue your attempt in finding something to grasp- something to center you even just for a second to allow you to go on with your shameless begging.

    As he began adjusting his footing, Minseok kept his grip on your hair while his thrusting came to a halt.  “Come on, babygirl,” He jeered, punctuating his words with a harshening hold. “Isn’t this what you-” Suddenly, his thrusts started up again only this time they relentlessly pounded against the hypersensitive area- forcing out your divine moans as your body melted and trembled beneath him, “Isn’t this what you wanted?” He continued his question, keeping up with his unforgiving pace. “Beg for it- Nice and pretty, and Daddy will keep giving you what you want. Come on, be a good little girl.”

    The sensation of him perfectly slamming into you in the slightly new angle, hitting your most sensitive spot, was unlike anything else. Your mind and body were nearly mush as his cock intoxicated you.

“P-Please..” You airily rasped, your voice going as your moans and cries shredded your vocal chords. “Please don- don’t stop, I’ll be a good girl, Daddy. Please..” A warmth began to tickle the backs of your eyes as tears gradually filled your waterline- trickling from the corners of your eyes. Your body couldn’t take any more teasing and you were filled to the absolute brim with the undeniable urge to come. “Please, don’t stop, Daddy. I want you- I want you to fill me up, just like this..”

“Mhmm… I don’t think so.  Good girls take what they’re given and they like it.” Minseok pulled you up and deposited you on your knees in front of him.  The swiftness of the moment left you disoriented and clutching at him for stability.

    Your eyes came into contact with his leaking member. It stood proudly slicked with your juices and his precum. Minseok stroked himself as he peered down at you. Saliva swelled in your mouth as he positioned himself on your bottom lip.

“Suck.” He growled his one-worded command.

    You surged forward taking as much of him in your mouth as you could. Your tongue curled along the underside of his dick as your hand pumped what your mouth couldn’t take. You bobbed your head with what little strength remained.

    His hand tilted your face upward as he ran fingers through your hair. “Look at me. Tell me how it tastes, Babygirl,” Minseok growled through clenched teeth.

    Your jaw slackened as you slid off, a line of saliva hanging from your bottom lip “We taste so good, Daddy. More please.”

    Minseok looked into your eyes and continued to rub the tips of his fingers along your jaw. You were so perfect for him. Your pouty lips and wanton expression were enough to bring his orgasm to the surface. It curled around his spine and settled in his stomach spreading warmth all over his body. He placed one hand in your hair wrenching you back, your mouth falling open in a soft ‘o.’

“Pretty baby, I’m going to wreck you.” Minseok thrust himself back into your mouth, fucking your throat ferociously. He rocked his hips into your face with no remorse. Your eyes rolled back, the burning sensation in your chest growing stronger with each second. It was the most pleasant sting. His grunts were the sweetest music. His grip tightened as his hips stuttered.

“Take it all,” Each word was punctuated with a sloppy thrust. Minseok threw his head back as he came in your mouth. 

    You swallowed the bitter liquid and sucked him clean while futilely attempting to keep all his cum in your mouth. As your lips parted just enough for your tongue to swipe across them, some of his warm spunk escaped you and dribbled down your chin.  You gasped as the air filled your lungs, the burn slowly subsiding.

    Minseok watched as you caught your breath, lust sated. He smoothed his hands over your face, smearing the cum over your swollen mouth.

“You did so well, my flower. Let me give you your reward.” Minseok cradled you and gently placed you back on the car. Your limp body sprawled out, muscles happy to be relaxed. He kissed up your thighs kneading the flesh. His fangs trailed over your silky skin, raising new marks.

    The ceiling watched you as you lay with your eyes closed. The hair on your arms raised as Minseok’s breath wafted over your core. His thumbs spread you open and you shuddered. His tongue flicked against your clit briskly. “Fuck...fuck, Daddy~” Your entire body trembled as your release built inside again.

    Minseok hummed at the taste of your arousal. You tingled in his tongue in the best of ways, the most delectable ambrosia. “You’re so delicious, babygirl..” He purred, diving back into your drenched heat- feeling his softened member hardening once again as your essence coated his tongue.

    Your head pressed it to the heated metal hood as your loud, melodic moans filled the parking lot once again. Your body squirmed the deeper his muscle dove inside your cunt, the more he relentlessly licked and prodded your most sensitive spot. Every part of you melted on top of the car as you allowed the sensation to overwhelm you and nudge you right towards your impending high.

“Da-Daddy..~” You breathlessly mewled, moving your hips back to match every thrust he gave you with his sinful tongue. “I need to… cum- so, so bad..”

    Your needy words didn’t interrupt his meal though, in fact, they only persisted him to continue eating you as if you were his last meal. The way his tongue fucked your sopping hole and the way his hand trailed up between your legs; his long digits immediately finding their way to your engorged bud, rubbing it in torturously mind-blowing circular motions, had your eyes rolling back into your skull.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck..” You repeatedly cursed, your body trembled and your breath staggered as you found yourself teetering on that edge. “I- I..” You stuttered, your voice trailed off as a lovely cry escaped you the second that harsh orgasmic wave pushed you right over into that heavenly chasm.

    Minseok growled into your core as your walled clenched around his tongue, squeezing it as your clit spasmed- your delectable juices flowing out of you and into his mouth like a sweet reward. “Mhmm,” He hummed against you, the vibrations of his low rumbled tone had you shaking. Though his fingers let up on you, his mouth didn’t- he wanted you to tremble and cry out for him as he heightened the intensity of your high.

    Your legs violently wobbled, almost giving way, as he continued his relentless tongue fucking- swirling around your inside, lapping up every bit of your nectar. You reached back, your hand becoming entangled in his hair while trying to push him away. You couldn’t take anymore if he continued you’d dwell into that pained cloud of overstimulation then forced into another orgasm.

“Pl-Please, I can’t take it..” You whimpered, your lower lip quivered as your spoke. “Too- Too much..”

    The vampire chuckled as he slowly lifted his mouth off you, planting sweet kisses along your inner thighs while listening to your breathy whines as you attempted to you calm your hypersensitive body down. “My sweet girl, is Daddy too much for you?” He jeered, rising from his spot behind you.

    Nothing but a shaky whine emanated from you as you just placidly lay there, barely able to move or even bat an eye.     Leaning over you, Minseok’s lips curled into a smile as he grazed the tip of his nose against the nape of your neck. “Daddy’s gonna-” Before he could finish speaking the loud, echo of footsteps coming towards the two of you filled the silencing parking lot.

    You lazily turned your gaze towards the incoming person only to see it was Eunwoo, clicking his tongue as he shook his head. His piercing eyes loomed over your disheveled form as he swiftly closed the gap between the three of you.

“Miss Y/n,” Eunwoo began, “I specifically told you to stay away from him but I see-” He said, his eyes falling on the two blossomed bruises that surround your puncture wounds. “- I see you weren’t able to do that, hm?”

“Oh please,” Minseok retorted, keeping his hands on your sore body as he kept his gaze on the resident. “Don’t act like you don’t want to taste her, too. I bet you’ve fantasized about being able to feed off her since you met her.” He snickered, brushing your hair away from the pretty marks his fangs left- feeling the need that began to radiate off Eunwoo as his hungry eyes refused to leave you. “Hmm, maybe- just maybe if you ask nicely, I’ll let you have one little taste.” 

    Turning his eyes from the resident back towards you, he gave your still flushed cheek a gentle peck, “How does that sound, darling?” He asked in a drawn out whisper, “Would you like Daddy to let him play with you too?”  

[michaelandy101-blog]

Beyond Responsive Design: How to Optimize Your Website for Mobile Users

New Post has been published on https://tiptopreview.com/beyond-responsive-design-how-to-optimize-your-website-for-mobile-users/

Beyond Responsive Design: How to Optimize Your Website for Mobile Users

Everyone can acknowledge the importance of a mobile-friendly website, especially after Google’s Mobilegeddon algorithm update.

Mobile optimization is here to stay, and it’s demanding more and more of businesses and their websites. But mobile optimization is about more than just a responsive website design.

In this article, we tell you why and how to adopt a mobile-first mindset for your website.

What is mobile optimization?

Mobile optimization is the process of designing and developing your website and its content to perform as well on mobile devices as it does on a desktop. As more consumers access websites on their smartphones, mobile optimization is increasingly important.

Google’s mobile-friendly algorithm change in 2015 (and a few more since then) was evidence that the search engine recognizes its responsibility to surface websites that painlessly get users what they need at the time that they need it.

Google doesn’t want to send mobile users to websites that provide a frustrating browsing experience — that would damage its promise to its users to always deliver helpful, relevant content.

Moreover, this algorithm change was and is a signal of a much larger shift that’s afoot — consumer behavior is changing, and it’s your job to adapt.

How to Optimize a Website for Mobile

Map your customer journey.

Seize intent-rich micro-moments.

Reconsider your metrics.

Embrace the intimacy of mobile.

Remember the basics and think ahead.

Building a mobile-friendly website is step one, but tweaking your website will not keep you ahead of consumers’ changing behavior and expectations.

In short, you have to infuse your marketing strategy with a mobile-first mindset. Here’s how.

1. Map your customer journey.

Imagine the experience of Sally, a young marketer who has just moved to Chicago. While out for a walk, Sally passes by a hair salon and realizes she needs a haircut. She pulls out her phone a search for hairstylists in Chicago who specialize in curls and color. Her Google search pops up Joann’s Stylez.

She flips through the website quickly and wants to research more, but it’s too hard while on the move — so she texts herself a link. When she gets home, she opens her texts on her tablet and quickly checks Yelp reviews, examines her calendar, and then books an appointment using the simple form on the Joann’s website.

When Sally loads up her laptop later that night to check her email, she discovers an email from Joann’s that confirms her appointment and gives her the option to add it to her calendar. The next day, 30 minutes before her appointment, she receives a push notification on her work computer reminding her of the appointment.

The next day, Sally receives a mobile email asking for feedback on the cut and offering to set up a recurring appointment at a discounted rate. She’s sold.

Sally’s experience is illustrative of the cross-device, omnichannel journey that many customers now make as they move through the marketing funnel. Every day, consumers switch a handful of different devices when completing common tasks such as online shopping, readying blog posts, booking appointments, or communicating with each other.

HubSpot’s Blogging Software equips you to publish relevant, conversion-optimized content you can preview on any device — allowing you to engage with customers wherever they are.

Consumers now expect this type of experience from all of their digital interactions. They want to be able to accomplish whatever fits their fancy on whatever device is at hand. This means that simply adapting your site to look nice on different devices is not enough. As a marketer, you must dig deeper into your customers’ and prospects’ lives.

For example, at HubSpot, we know that a visitor on a mobile device is very unlikely to fill out a long form on one of our landing pages. So we started using Smart Content to automatically shorten the form when a mobile viewer is looking at it. By doing this, our mobile prospects increased by 5x.

2. Seize intent-rich micro-moments.

You’ve likely already developed a strong set of buyer personas. You’ve conducted user research and testing to understand which content and CTAs to present to each persona as they move down the funnel. You must now go a step further. You must understand both the rhythm and rhyme to when, why, with what, and from where people are interacting with your website and content.

Google encourages marketers to identify the “micro-moments” in a customer’s journey:

Micro-moments occur when people reflexively turn to a device — increasingly a smartphone — to act on a need to learn something, do something, discover something, watch something, or buy something. They are intent-rich moments when decisions are made and preferences shaped.

A number of brands have figured out how to anticipate and capitalize on these micro-moments. Apple Passbook loads up your Starbucks card when you’re near a coffee shop. Hertz sends you an email when your plane lands to let your know that your car is ready. Starwood allows you to check in and open your hotel room with your smartphone.

Consumers are increasingly becoming acclimated to companies offering such intimately responsive experiences. 59% of shoppers say that being able to shop on mobile is important when deciding which brand or retailer to buy from, and 39% of smartphone users are more likely to browse or shop a company or brand’s mobile app because it’s easier or faster to make a purchase.

How can you figure out these micro-moments and design your content to meet prospects’ intent? Tap into your data. Here are three analyses you should start with:

Search: Which queries, ads and keywords are bringing users on different devices to your website and landing pages? Once they land on your site, what types of searches are users on different devices performing?

Content: Examine the content that users access by stage in the funnel and by device. Is there a trend around what prospects on their phones are downloading? Sharing?

Flow: Dig into a flow analysis segmented by device. What is the path mobile-using prospects follow? What is the path tablet-using customers follow? From what sites and sources are these visitors arriving?

After building your trove of micro-moments, it would be easy to think: “Okay, we just need to strip our website down to the specific things our visitors will mostly likely want to access on the go.”

But mobile users are not limited to completing short, simple tasks. The device does not directly imply location or intent.

A busy professional may use her commute time to conduct in-depth industry research on her phone, process her email inbox on her tablet while watching a movie with her family, and browse the websites of potential contractors while flying across the country.

Confirming this intuition, the Pew Research Center’s study of U.S. smartphone found that 99% of smartphone owners use their phone at home, 82% use their phones while in transit, and 69% use their phone at work each week. (This study was conducted in 2015, but we believe it’s still relevant, if not more so, today.)

People don’t want a stripped down set of content. Instead, they want quick and easy access to the materials they need on whatever device they happen to be using.Thus, while you want to optimize your site, landing pages, emails, etc. for micro-moments, you do not want to force visitors into a box from which they cannot escape.

3. Consider (and reconsider) your metrics.

The metrics you established in the desktop-centric days may not seamlessly translate to our new multi-device, micro-moment world. For example, you might have fought tirelessly to find ways to increase visitors’ time on your site, recognizing that more time means higher engagement, which translates to higher conversion.

The micro-moments you identify for mobile visitors, however, might suggest that you want a lower time-on-site. A prospect visiting the website of a consulting firm may be looking for:

An infographic they want to show a coworker

The bio of a partner with whom they are about to meet

A case study to read while traveling

In order to meet this prospect’s expectations for their mobile experience, you must design your website to quickly and intuitively help them find the specific piece of information for which they are looking. If their mobile visit is distracting, frustrating, or too time consuming, you’ve damaged their perception of your brand.

4. Embrace the intimacy of mobile.

For better or worse, I go to bed with my phone (reviewing tomorrow’s schedule and reading a nighttime meditation) and I wake up with my phone (silencing the alarm and checking the weather). I communicate with my partner and my best friends everyday — all through my phone. When my MBA classmate sends a GIF of Tyra Banks being sassy, I turn my phone to the person next to me, and we have a good laugh together.

Day-in and day-out, these interactions create an intimate connection between my phone and me. And I’m not alone: Most consumers imbue their mobile experiences with more intimacy than desktop experiences. The Pew Research Center found that Americans view their smartphones as freeing, connecting, and helpful, and associate their phones with feelings of happiness and productivity. These associations can inspire greater engagement with and interest in content.

As marketers, we should take advantage of these trends and consider how to make our prospects’ mobile experience more personal and social. Perhaps change your website to increase the proportion of social CTAs you display when someone arrives on mobile.

5. Remember the basics and think ahead.

Overall, embracing the mobile mindset means ensuring that the entire customer journey is responsive, relevant, actionable, and frictionless. As a marketer, you want to help consumers quickly and easily find what they want to find and do what they want to do. Again, this means thinking ahead, understanding when, with what device, and from where your prospects will interact with your content.

This can seem daunting, but mostly it means diligently applying the basics across channels. For example, since nearly half of all emails are opened on mobile, ensure your emails are mobile optimized. We recommend doing the following:

Use large, easy-to-read text.

Use large, clear images and reduce file sizes.

Keep layouts simple and invest in responsive templates.

Use large, mobile-friendly calls-to-action and links.

Recognizing the personal associations people have with their phones, you’ll want to ensure that the “From” name is familiar and that the preview text is inviting. And think ahead: Don’t email a link to a form or an event registration landing page that is not mobile-friendly.

Use HubSpot’s Free Landing Page Builder to launch landing pages that look perfect across devices and automatically change content based on who’s viewing your page.

Over to You: Time to Optimize

Follow these tips and you will be well on your way to living the mobile mindset and weathering the change in consumers’ digital behavior. Move quickly and your organization could be at the head of the pack.

Editor’s note: This post was originally published in June 2015 and has been updated for comprehensiveness.

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[gadgetgirl71]

Top Ten Tuesday 8 September 2020

Welcome to this weeks Top Ten Tuesday. Originally created by The Broke & The Bookish, which is now hosted by Jana @ That Artsy Reader Girl. Each week it features a book or literary themed category. This weeks prompt is:

Books for My Younger Self:

(These could be books you wish you had read as a child, books younger you could have really learned something from, books that meshed with your hobbies/interests, books that could have helped you go through events/changes in your life, etc.)

Well there are a few series that I would have liked my younger self to have read which are mainly fiction along with only a few non fiction and they are:

Wild Swans: Three Daughters of China by Jung Chang

A new edition of one of the best-selling and best-loved books of recent years, with a new introduction by the author. The publication of Wild Swans in 1991 was a worldwide phenomenon. Not only did it become the best-selling non-fiction book in British publishing history, with sales of well over two million, it was received with unanimous critical acclaim, and was named the winner of the 1992 NCR Book Award and the 1993 British Book of the Year Award. Few books have ever had such an impact on their readers. Through the story of three generations of women — grandmother, mother and daughter — Wild Swans tells nothing less than the whole tumultuous history of China’s tragic twentieth century, from sword-bearing warlords to Chairman Mao, from the Manchu Empire to the Cultural Revolution. At times terrifying, at times astonishing, always deeply moving, Wild Swans is a book in a million, a true story with all the passion and grandeur of a great novel. For this new edition, Jung Chang has written a new introduction, bringing her own story up to date, and describing the effect Wild Swans’ success has had on her life.

The State of Me by Nasim Marie Jafry

It s 1983 and 20-year-old university student Helen Fleet should be enjoying the best days of her life, but while all her friends go on to graduate and have careers in London, she is forced to return to her parents home, bedridden with vile symptoms that doctors can’t explain and often don’t believe. She is eventually diagnosed with M.E, a cruel illness that she must learn to live with over the next decade. All of her relationships are tested and changed by her condition, but Helen s story is so much more than an account of her suffering. Far from it. The State of Me explores the loneliness and chaos of one of the most misunderstood illnesses of our time, but also celebrates the importance of family, friendships, and sexual love. A stunning, eloquent and linguistically perfect debut novel.

Autobiography of a Geisha by Sayo Masuda

Sayo Masuda’s story is an extraordinary portrait of rural life in japan and an illuminating contrast to the fictionalised lives of glamorous geishas.

At the age of sis Masuda’s poverty-stricken family sent her to work as a nursemaid. At the age of twelve, she was indentured to a geisha house. In Autobiography of a Geisha, Masuda chronicles a harsh world in which young women faced the realities of sex for sale and were deprived of their freedom and identity. She also tells of her life after leaving the geisha house, painting a vivid panorama of the grinding poverty of rural life in wartime Japan.

Many years later Masuda decides to tell her story. Although she could barely read or write she was determine to tell the truth about life as a geisha and explode the myths surrounding their secret world. Remarkably frank and incredibly moving, this is the record of one woman’s survival on the margins of Japanese society.

Geisha: The Secret History of a Vanishing World by Lesley Downer

Ever since Westerners arrived in Japan, we have been intrigued by geisha. This fascination has spawned a wealth of fictional creations from Madame Butterfly to Arthur Golden’s Memoirs of a Geisha. The reality of the geisha’s existence has rarely been described. Contrary to popular opinion, geisha are not prostitutes but literally arts people. Their accomplishments might include singing, dancing or playing a musical instrument but, above all, they are masters of the art of conversation, soothing worries of highly paid businessmen who can afford their attentions. The real secret history of the geisha is explored here.

A Night Out with Robert Burns Arranged by Andrew O’Hagan

January 25, 2009, marks the 250th anniversary of Burns’s birth. It will be a huge event around the world, not least across Canada. And we have the book!

Robert Burns (1759-1796) is part of your life. If you’ve ever given or received a romantic red rose, or talked about a “do or die” situation, or if you’ve sung “Auld Lang Syne,” you’re included.

Others celebrate this ploughman poet with an eye for “the lasses” more directly. Every year, literally hundreds of thousands of Canadians, from coast to coast, go to Burns Suppers in January to celebrate his life. This year —2009 — will be the biggest ever, since it’s a 250th celebration of his birth.

CBC TV is joining with the BBC to produce three one-hour programmes on his life, all written and hosted by Andrew O’Hagan, who is now the authority on Burns. This is because this book, published by Canongate in 2008, has already become a classic, bringing Burns to ordinary readers. Because Burns was on the right side of history, against privilege and rank and for everyone getting a fair chance, he is beloved around the world — in Andrew O’Hagan’s words, he is “the world’s greatest and most loveable poet.”

The Moonstone by Wilkie Collins

Bequeathed a rare diamond by her late uncle, heiress Rachel Verinder has no idea it was stolen from an Indian temple or that it has a cursed history. When the diamond disappears on her eighteenth birthday, multiple suspects – including Rachel’s suitor, Franklin Blake – are implicated in its theft. Determined to prove his innocence, Franklin begins his own investigation. Did one of his fellow Englishmen steal the jewel? Or was it whisked back to India? The case, which unfolds through multiple narratives, takes startling twists and turns in pursuit of the truth.

Widely considered the first great detective novel written in English, The Moonstone is one of Wilkie Collins’s most famous works.

Dead Witch Walking (The Hollows Series) by Kim Harrison

Rachel Morgan lives in a world where a bioengineered virus wiped out most of the world’s human population – exposing the existence of supernatural communities that had long lived alongside humanity. It’s her job as a white witch working for Inderland Security to protect the humans from things that go bump in the night.

For the last five years Rachel has been tracking down lawbreaking Inderlanders in modern-day Cincinnati, but now she wants to leave and start her own agency. Her only problem: no one quits the I.S.

Marked for death, Rachel will have to fend off fairy assassins and homicidal werewolves armed to the teeth with deadly curses.

Unless she can appease her former employers by exposing the city’s most prominent citizen as a drug lord, she might just be a dead witch walking.

The Last Orphans (The Last orphans series) by N W Harris

One horrifying day will change the life of sixteen-year-old Shane Tucker and every other kid in the world.

In a span of mere hours, the entire adult population is decimated, leaving their children behind to fend for themselves and deal with the horrific aftermath of the freak occurrence. As one of the newly made elders in his small town, Shane finds himself taking on the role of caretaker for a large group of juvenile survivors. One who just happens to be Kelly Douglas—an out-of-his-league classmate—who, on any other day, would have never given Shane a second glance.

Together, they begin their quest to find out why all of the adults were slaughtered. What they find is even more horrifying than anything they could have expected—the annihilation of the adults was only the beginning. Shane and his friends are not the unlucky survivors left to inherit this new, messed-up planet. No, they are its next victims. There is an unknown power out there, and it won’t stop until every person in the world is dead.

A spine-tingling adventure that will have you gasping for breath all the way until the last page, The Last Orphans is the first book in an all-new apocalyptic series.

The Breakers Series by Edward W Robertson

In the Breakers series, humanity faces not one apocalypse, but two: first a lethal pandemic, then a war against those who made the virus. This collection includes the first three books and is over 1000 pages (350,000 words) of post-apocalyptic survival.

BREAKERS (Book 1) In New York, Walt Lawson is about to lose his girlfriend Vanessa. In Los Angeles, Raymond and Mia James are about to lose their house. Within days, none of it will matter. A plague tears across the world, reducing New York to an open grave and LA to a chaotic wilderness of violence and fires. Civilization comes to an abrupt stop.

Just as the survivors begin to adapt to the aftermath, Walt learns the virus that ended humanity wasn’t created by humans. It was inflicted from outside. The colonists who sent it are ready to finish the job–and Earth’s survivors may be too few and too weak to resist.

MELT DOWN (Book 2) In upstate Idaho, Ness Hook is run out of his mom’s house by his bullying brother Shawn. In Redding, California, Tristan Carter is graduating college, but with no job and no prospects, she’ll have to move back in with her parents.

Then the world ends: first with a virus, then with an alien invasion.

Ness and Shawn take to the mountains to fight a guerrilla against the attackers. In California, Tristan and Alden are taken prisoner. Separated from her brother, Tristan crosses the ruins of America to track him down. She will stop at nothing to get Alden back–but her fellow survivors prove even more dangerous than the monsters who broke the world.

KNIFEPOINT (Book 3) Raina was just a girl when the plague came. She survived. Her parents didn’t. Neither did the world. As civilization fell, she took to the ruins of Los Angeles, eating whatever she could catch.

After two years alone, she’s found and adopted by a fisherman and his wife. Their makeshift family lives a quiet life–until a man named Karslaw sails in from Catalina Island with an army of conquerors. Driven by visions of empire, he executes Raina’s new father as a traitor and takes her mother captive.

But Karslaw’s people aren’t the only ones vying for control of the ruined land. As violence wracks the city, Raina joins a rebellion against Karslaw’s rule. She will stop at nothing to free her mother–and to have her revenge.

Wrong Number, Wright Guy (Bourbon Street Boys Series) by Elle Casey

When a mysterious text message summons May Wexler to a biker bar in downtown New Orleans, she knows something is very wrong. Her sister has sent out an SOS, but when May gets there, she’s nowhere to be found and May is the one in trouble—she’s wearing pink espadrilles, she’s got a Chihuahua in her purse, and she’s in the middle of a shootout.

After tall, muscular Ozzie comes to her rescue, May has no choice but to follow him to safety. At the headquarters of his private security firm, the Bourbon Street Boys, she finds a refuge for the night—and the offer of a job. But it’s not long before a gun-toting stalker isn’t the only complication in May’s life: the more time she spends with Ozzie, the less she can deny that they’ve got some serious chemistry. A wrong number got her into this mess…Will it also get her the right guy?

#JustForFun #Top Ten Tuesday #TopTenTuesday #TTT

[lit--bitch]

Current-Reads (27/04/2020 - 03/05/2020) 🐸🍇

(Disclosure: I know a couple people this week, like Billie Collins from The Writing Squad. I know Elizabeth Ellen through Mira Gonzalez and her editorial help with my poetry. Everybody else be a stranger to me. 😢)

Preface as always: Every Sunday without fail I throw up the freshest literature and photography I’ve read over the week, sometimes it’s a book, or a piece I saw in a magazine or an online zine, maybe it’s something I saw on social media, etc. If I add ‘RECOMMEND’ next to a few of the titles, but that’s not to say I don’t recommend all of them, I just love some pieces more than others. Not everything will be everybody’s cup of tea, yanno, c’est la vie. And any titles that you see in bold are hyperlinked so if you click or tap them they’ll direct you straight to the source… or shopping basket.  

Bit of an off-week this week, my dog hasn’t been very well so my mind has been elsewhere, and that Annie Ernaux review took it out of me, ha. I was terrified to write negative criticism, openly, and it’s not even like I was saying, “I just didn’t enjoy this writing”, like the Ernaux text genuinely has politically biased implications. It’s really hard writing about the genocide in Algeria and my family, because 1. France has done a lot of work to avoid its discussion so they’re never held accountable, 2. A lot of people don’t really know about it, and 3. A lot of people don’t care, like a lot a people, the annihilation of the Amazigh hasn’t even entered social discourses like it has with Native Americans or the Aborigines, and these are still discourses which are a lot of the time, ignored. Getting people to just be aware of this, takes time, centuries even, and so many voices. I do feel like I’m screaming into a void, and I’m not surprised Fitzcarraldo Editions didn’t pay much attention to the review. It probably seemed impertinent of some random stranger to call out a 78-year-old feminist for her furtive privilege and non-condemnation of France’s role in genocide in Algeria. Afterwards I had a massive cup of tea, and took a minute out. The amazing and lovely work I’ve read this week has been like comfort-food. Current-reads this week include Billie Collins’s The Haircut, an excerpt from ‘Bluets’ from Elizabeth Ellen’s Poems collection which I still can’t believe came out two years ago, and I rediscovered this poem on one of Hobart’s web features. I also read a review Jon Petre did for SPAM zine on Cathy Galvin’s Walking The Coventry Ring Road With Lady Godiva, published by Guillemot Press (which is run by one of my old tutors and friend, Luke Thompson).  I adored these beautiful pieces for 3AM Magazine’s Poem Brut series, from Kayleigh Cassidy, to do man and other poems. FINALLY, last but not least, I read two wonderful writers on Split Lip Magazine, one from their 2019 site, JJ Peña’s manguitos, pears and grapefruits, and Threa Almontaser’s I Crack An Egg.

I also want to say beforehand that I check all the writers and their social media (i.e. I stalk them and their bios) to make sure I absolutely get their pronouns correct, I don’t just assume hes and shes, etc. So in case anyone’s concerned about that, dw I do this shit properly. 

Let’s get into it.

***

Threa Almontaser’s I Crack An Egg on Split Lip (RECOMMEND): Cooking, family and religion. That’s the fucking trinity here. If it weren’t for the fact that I practised Islam when I was kid and my dad’s Muslim, I wouldn’t understand a lot of these references. The vernacular here is important, because what Threa does, is she makes you aware. She pulls you into her periphery, and then into her focalisation. It’s steeped in her habitus. This poem’s peppered with Arabic utterances, (wallah = I swear to God), references to the imam, henna and hijab. She negotiates the relationships of mother and marriage, tests the tensions in personality, admonishes expectations in the kingdom of her mother’s kitchen. I felt looked in the eye when I read this poem. Women are the backbone of everything. And Threa Almontaser’s one to watch.

Kayleigh Cassidy, to do man and other poems on 3AM Magazine (RECOMMEND): These are so cool, I’ve got a massive smile on my face rn. I loved these visual word collages. Each one is so individual in its own right and they’re so witty and relatable, haha. Particularly ‘to do’ and ‘an idea woke me’... They’re symptomatic of Gen Z anxieties and frustrations, they wrestle between our office selves and our artist selves. Just loved them. Adored Kayleigh’s bio too, “Kayleigh is dyslexic, working class and a massive fan of the moon; full, half or gibbous.”

Billie Collins’s The Haircut (RECOMMEND): Billie Collins’s writing is so familiar and real and intimate. It’s like home to me. I really loved this piece she did for the Writing Squad’s Staying Home series. I’ve been making my way through each of the works on there slowly, they’re so fantastic. Since the lockdown, we’ve been displaced by home haircuts and DIY. This piece is about the intimacy of giving your dad a hair cut written in the form of a contract (it echoes of tenancy agreement also, does anyone else get that?) / a play, I mean it’s amazing. The familial camaraderie and realism makes the scene so accessible and visceral. The opening immediately grabbed my attention:  “This is the first time I’ve ever given my Dad a haircut. I’m reluctant, but have agreed to do it on the following terms:

1. PARTY A [Hereafter: THE HAIRDRESSER] agrees to cut the hair of PARTY B [Hereafter: THE HAIRDRESSEE] under the proviso that no matter what happens, no matter the appearance of the resultant effect [Hereafter: THE HAIRCUT], THE HAIRDRESSEE is not allowed to get angry at THE HAIRDRESSER.”

The dialogue is a harmless bicker, which fades away as the focalisation of the speaker comes to the fore. It lessens in wit and exposes a more vulnerable and moving perception to the task in hand. It becomes tender, a moving cut. The ‘I’ finds a poignancy in being guided to cut the father’s hair, and the hairdresser becomes transfixed by other details, of skin and touch, in age and aging. It made me cry. Especially that reference to Tom Waits. Bloody hell, Billie.

‘Bluets’ from Elizabeth Ellen’s Poems collection, HOBART (RECOMMEND): Someone finally says it. Maggie Nelson’s Bluets wasn’t that great. Thank you Elizabeth Ellen. Elizabeth’s writing is like sitting in your trackies eating Chinese food and having a good sob. Other people have said similar things in that vein. It’s really the best of kind of writing, the most accessible and universal. This whole collection is about being messy, about revelling in your messy womanhood, being a messy fucking woman and having messed-up feelings and writing messed-up writing. It’s deeply self-contemplative and irritated, it’s also watchful. ‘Bluets’ is a sneak peek of a collection I adore, and keep going back to. This one poem singularly unpacks the tensions of neatness and neat perceptions of femininity, tight structures and the constrictive corseting of feelings Elizabeth Ellen so abhors. Let it all out. Let it all hang right out. 

JJ Peña’s manguitos, pears and grapefruits (RECOMMEND): This work is just absolutely gorgeous, and it was in Split Lip over a year ago. There is a tartness, a bitter acidity, a bite that you find in these sweetnesses from JJ Peña. The way we’re all hanging fruit from a family tree. The intergenerational trauma. The pain and weight of parental imperatives and suppositions. It’s the honesty and the enviable metaphor that makes this work so beautiful, it’s so vivid. Like: ‘the island treasures into golden sunsets & moons, into pandulce plazas & beaches where women who eat the sun walk around. no other place, he says, bleeds & blooms the sun.’ The language is so enriching, you can so clearly envision what he’s talking about, and how these landscapes and skies collide with more sinister and unpleasant experiences, of secret-keeping, sexuality and rape.

On a personal level I connected with this writing for the way JJ negotiates with questions of heritage and self-identity. There’s a huge pain in being divided between lands and culture and blood. When I was a kid, I used to tan like my Algerian father, I’d go mahogany, and I’d get crocodile skin in the sun. My mum used to have to rub olive oil on me. Now, I’ve still got that thick Kabyle-girl, North African skin from my dad, but since I’ve grown up, I don’t tan like that anymore, for whatever inexpicable reason, I burn worse than my English mother. And I’m lighter-skinned than her too, like cheesecake white. And I understand what JJ means when he refers to his father, who in ‘grapefruits’, declares: i got that peña blood. wood skin. My father’s the same. And I get it, I don’t know why I’m not the same either, JJ. But I think the exact same thing: I might have hardened skin if I’d spent my life working in my grandmother’s fields, picking olives. 

I’d hate to give any more away about this writing, so go ahead and read it and have a look at some of JJ’s more recent work in Barren Magazine. 

Jon Petre, on Cathy Galvin’s Walking The Coventry Ring Road With Lady Godiva, SPAM zine (RECOMMEND):  People never recommend reading a review of a book, they always just omit that part, and recommend the book straight-off. But a lot of the time, I wouldn’t know half of what to read if it weren’t for reviews. And writing reviews takes up a lot of time and a lot of reflection. I feel it’s necessary to review reviews, because they’re equally a piece of writing in and of themselves, and therefore an extension of the art being reviewed. I really loved this piece from Jon Petre. It not only made me want to buy Cathy Galvin, it made me want to read more of Jon. The review is as much an explanation of this psychogeographical poetry and Coventry’s ‘edgeland’ landscapes, as it is a wonderful piece in its own right. It is informative and witty, and its descriptions are succinct, measured and quite beautiful actually. I just loved this part in the opening paragraph: ‘I have always wanted to explore the edgelands. They are everywhere, hidden in plain sight, an alt-highway running into the hidden psyche of ostensibly dull places. If you want to get to the heart of somewhere stick to the edges.’

I also really enjoy the way Jon relays and quotes sections of the poems, he’s selective and careful. He recreates the oscillations in Galvin’s collection in his sentence structures: ‘Coventry’s punk scene is an especially positive part of the story ‘England’s dreaming Pistols and punk / peaches on beaches’ are up against ‘that figure head – / not what she seems, the Queen, the fascist regime’. Revolution and radical change has to start somewhere, as Lady Godiva herself proved – why not at the Coventry ring road?’

He’s chatty, he’s got a voice. ‘Galvin is clearly having a lot of fun mixing her references to Coventry history and other texts – quoting The Specials alongside Dante, which is 100% my shit – and stitching letters to Phillip Larkin and legalese about the ring road’s construction into art.’ He’s not sterile, he doesn’t write reviews that border on pretension, he’s not a ridiculously irritating sesquipedalian-ist (someone who likes to use big words, irony intended). He makes the books he reviews worth investing in, and you don’t need 10 tabs open to look up words he’s saying. He writes with precision and with feeling. SPAM zine in general is absolutely fabulous, and boasts some amazing writers.

***

Right, I need a cup of tea. Next week’s review is Tiana Clark’s I Can’t Talk About The Trees Without The Blood. Absolute bleeder. I might be slower to the take next week because I’ve got my MA viva (on Zoom, wahey) and all sorts, so bear with me. Stay safe love-bears. 

[missguomeiyun]

Special invite to Kitchen by Brad Smoliak

Fact: I have little to no knowledge about the “culinary studio” scene in Edmonton. I first heard about these intimate culinary studios (mostly in homes or residential units) from Hong Kong shows over a decade ago when I used to watch them. The concept seemed fun & interesting- I did not know these sort of things existed in Edmonton till I got invited to this event a few weeks ago.

HAVE THESE BEEN AROUND FOR A LONG TIME?!

Kitchen by Brad Smoliak (I’ll call it The Kitchen from now on in this post) is located in downtown Edmonton, just off Jasper Ave by a block.

The concept of The Kitchen is that it is a private space where the following takes place: rental for group parties +/- involvement of food/drinks, food/wine tasting events by the chef himself (or other chefs / collabs, etc), a casual space for business meetings, etc.. . Unless it’s events put out by the Kitchen, it generally runs by a booking/reservation system. I think the choice of location is a smart one bcos it’s located in the heart of the downtown!

Once you enter, you’ll be greeted by this minimalistic corner.

This is what the rest of the space looks like. There are 2 large tables: one with regular seating & one close to the back that’s bar height. I wouldn’t say the space is big but I think the layout is nice & is suitable for the kinds of things they offer

So the reason why I’m here: I got an invite!

I signed up for a program called the Sensory Evaluation Program, which is a part of the Alberta Government’s Agriculture & Forestry department. I’m not gonna go into details of the program bcos it can be found online. Long story short: one of the “duties” of the program is to conduct tasting events, where products that haven’t gone into the market yet are “tested”. What typically happens is, there’s a product A (for example, a chocolate chip cookie) that isn’t out in the market yet but it’s “made”. The program coordinators will inform ppl via email that it is a “baked cookie product” (tells you category but no details) & they’re looking for ppl to try it. The email contains a questionnaire that essentially aims to select a population that would be good candidates to provide good feedback on the product. Then you go to the session if you’re selected, & you basically rate the product by their step-by-step guidelines. It’s all tech-y & easy to follow.

The purpose of this invite to this space is an “open house” to this facility. The evaluation sessions used to be elsewhere & it kind of runs as a cubicle form, where each person is assigned a “cubicle” & you don’t interact with others. They have formally moved here for these evaluation sessions now (whenever the next one is) so they kindly invited participants to check out this space & inform us about the changes they’ve been working on in regards to the program. The step-by-step portion of the program is still on ipads, as you can see, but now it’s hooked up to a real-time monitor that’s open to all, which shows stats about what ppl are selecting for each criteria (taste, appearance, initial flavour, would you buy it? etc). I think it’s quite interesting that they’re adopting this open style. I don’t know. .. I’m not the wavering type of person so when I make my judgments about something, it’s unlikely to change. For evals like these, I much prefer it to be non-interactive but maybe they have reasons for making it “open”. I think that with this system, you might get ppl who think “ohh that’s a good point! Now that you’ve mentioned it.. yeah me too.” Hmm.. . What are your thoughts?

In any case, that’s the reason why I was here for about an hr. They provided some snacks & refreshment, like how all open houses should haha

Loved this shelf!!

This is the area above the public sink. It honestly feels like a home.

Up until you see the kitchen.. .

Yup, restaurant kitchen :P

So yeah, it was fun & I enjoyed my time there. They had little stations at the bar table that talked about some of the recent projects they’ve been working on. Here are some of the samples I took home from the open house.

Seed Bark: “the amount of sugar in this product was reduced b ising a tapioca fibre syrup .. which is digested similarly to fibre in the digestive tract.”

Faba Protein Puffs: “higher in protein & fibre, & lower in sugar & fat than traditional puffed snack products in the market........  extruded & dried to create a light crisp texture without the use of baking or frying.” This was so addicting bcos the seasoning they used as dill! Can you imagine... mini dill puffs.. mmmmMM

Eatmore Faba Bar: “uses roasted faba beans in replacement for peanuts” aimed to create a total nut-free bar for ppl who can’t consume nuts.

The future? Is near.

LOL I am looking forward to these new things - E-tongue?!?! WHAT ?!?!?!?

So yeah, this experience was valuable & eye widening for me. It was informative, I learnt, & I tried snacks that are “limited edition” that money can’t even buy bcos they’re not in the market yet. Food is life (literally) & there’s so much to “food” that you normally don’t think of.. . like its life before it hits our shelves in the grocery stores!

[coopdigitalnewsletter]

3 August 2020: Remote work: reply later. Amazon: free London grocery delivery. Tech industry: regulation?

Hello, this is the Co-op Digital newsletter - it looks at what's happening in the internet/digital world and how it's relevant to the Co-op, to retail businesses, and most importantly to people, communities and society. Thank you for reading - send ideas and feedback to @rod on Twitter. Please tell a friend about it!

Remote work: reply later

Many organisations have been “working from home” for a few months now, and there are obvious advantages and disadvantages to being remote. You don’t need to spend time or money commuting, you can work the way you want, etc. On the other hand, you might be trying to care for and homeschool children while also working, which is exhausting and impossible.

One of the non-obvious disadvantages of remote work is that if you try faithfully replicate the experience of being in an office there are additional cognitive costs. Doing a Zoom meeting is slightly harder work than doing a meeting face to face because many of the social cues that help make a conversation happen are lost in the “Can you hear me/I think Marina dropped out/I didn’t catch that” dance. So after a tough day of back to back meetings on the Zoom grid, you are finished.

Here’s an article that argues that remote workers are more productive than their present-in-the-office counterparts, and that asynchronous communication is the reason. If people send messages and avoiding demanding an instant response, recipients have freedom to fit replying into all of their other work. So there are fewer interruptions (related: Basecamp - how we communicate). You can see that even if messages are happening more slowly, more work will probably get done.

But it is also obvious that making remote work work isn’t easy. Nor is it the right answer for every situation. This is the negative argument: Our remote work future is going to suck: “remote work makes you vulnerable to outsourcing, reduces your job to a metric, creates frustrating change-averse bureaucracies, and stifles your career growth”. So there’s work to do to make sure that remote work doesn’t end up like that!

Amazon: free grocery delivery in London

Amazon takes on supermarkets with free food delivery. Same or next-day delivery will now be free for Prime subscribers in London on orders above £40. Amazon says “members will get fast grocery delivery - free with their Prime membership ­­- starting today [28 July] in London and expanding to millions of members across the UK before the end of the year”.

Last week the newsletter looked at how grocery delivery services that fully or part-subsidise delivery suffer significant margin erosion. So bundling delivery free into another service is a big move. This might be a classic “land and expand” plan. The free delivery is a loss leader to win Amazon customers who will later be loathe to switch supplier once they’ve committed. (And Amazon has the cashflow machine to outlast others.) 

Another way to look at it: Amazon is just following shopper behaviour: people want convenience, and recently they’ve got used to groceries being delivered (also everyone now lives in a world where “popping to the shops” involves queues and having to wear masks and worry about getting ill, so a push of free delivery works fits with that).

Or Amazon sees it in terms of the ecosystem. Shoppers would like free delivery, so Amazon adds it to Prime, and Prime gets slightly harder to cancel, even though its annual cost keeps nudging up. This approach only works if Amazon are consistently good at working out what shoppers value. If they make a mistake, Prime starts looking like a bad deal and cancellations will grow. But if it works, Prime is the recurring membership fee that eventually looks like essential life infrastructure.

Last week: the shop inside the self-scan bleeper.

Queues and retail news

Sainsbury's tests virtual queuing system. Shoppers will be able to join the queue from a remote location, such as their car, using a smartphone app, avoiding the need to stand outside the shop. Previously on queues: Could online supermarket queues do good? and Managing queues inside and outside Co-op stores during the pandemic. 

Good list of local, independent retailers in the US, many of them co-operatives.

The Book of Dreams closes: Argos is going to stop printing its massive catalogue. “Many declared childhood had been "ruined" by the news and decrying that children will never know the joys of circling potential birthday and Christmas gifts.” (The Book of Dreams has its own website, which is worth a visit.)

Tech industry: regulation?

Last week the Big Tech company leaders got hauled into the US congress’s Zoom chat to talk about whether they’re too big and whether the US gov should use anti-trust action to break them up. Here’s a summary.

Traditionally US competition law has seen monopolies in terms of price fixing - they’d ask if consumers are getting fair prices. On that basis, companies like Amazon usually don’t look anti-competitive because they generally force prices down.

However you’d think that regulation is on its way for a couple of reasons. First, market power now comes from controlling demand rather than supply. So the traditional price-fixing measure of monopoly damage may not be sufficient - and academic thinking on monopoly power is now evolving. Second, if you step back from anti-competition law specifically, regulation looks inevitable as the tech industry becomes ever larger and subsumes other industries, remaking them with software and data. It’s natural that the technology industry should face more regulation to limit its harms to consumers, other companies and wider society, its negative externalities, its unexpected consequences:

“Some time between 1850 and 1900 or so the industrial world worked out that regulating industry is necessary, and since then we’ve been arguing about how and how much, industry by industry, from industrial food to banking to airlines. Now that gets applied to tech.”

Related: I tried to live without the tech giants. it was impossible.

Uber’s algorithm and other mobility

Uber drivers to launch legal bid to uncover app's algorithm - this is interesting. if you work for an algorithm (the algorithm tasks you, and determines how much money you make) then it is deeply in your interest to understand how it works.

Also Uber: the company has cancelled plans to provide digital wallets and other financial services. They’ve committed to being profitable soon, and (thanks partly to the virus) the corporate emphasis is on Uber Eats.

Elsewhere in mobility data… the county of Devon will use data from running app Strava to prioritise popular cycling roads for repairs. And some global data on electric scooter rideshare use (nb electric scooters became legal in UK in July).

Co-op Digital news and events

The Federation House team is running weekly drop-in chats for the community every Wednesday at 10am: Join us here. See our online events. You can also see how The Federation is planning for a safe return to the co-working floor.

Other free of charge events 

Andy’s Man Club – Gentleman's Peer to Peer Mental Health Meet Up – Mondays 7pm 

Self Care – Online Workshops – Various dates/times in July 

Northern Azure User Group – Meet Up – 5 Aug – 6pm 

Virtual Data Expedition – Online Workshop – 11 Aug – 10am. “Do you wish you had more confidence with data? Do you want to use data to better inform what you do? Whatever your data skills, wherever you are, you're invited to join a Virtual Data Expedition being led online for the first time by Open Data Manchester, with the support of charity data experts 360Giving. A Data Expedition is a way of working with data from 'start to finish' – from identifying a question you have, to finding and using data to try to answer it, to telling a story with it. Sign up to join a series of guided workshops on a journey of data discovery.” 

NW Drupal User Group – Meet Up – 11 Aug – 7pm 

Beginners Guide to Retrofit – Webinar – 12 Aug – 6pm 

Women in Tech – Networking – 13 Aug – 8.30am 

LGBTQIA – Hackathon – 28-30 Aug 

 Paid for events 

Invisible Cities - Online Tours of Manchester or Edinburgh – Various Dates & Times 

Mandala Yoga – Online Yoga Sessions - Various Dates & Times 

Tech Ethics – Meet Up – Various Dates & Times 

Thank you for reading

Thank you, beloved readers and contributors. Please continue to send ideas, questions, corrections, improvements, etc to @rod on Twitter. If you have enjoyed reading, please tell a friend! If you want to find out more about Co-op Digital, follow us @CoopDigital on Twitter and read the Co-op Digital Blog. Previous newsletters.