#or at least used to be. but i do notice when people actively avoid conversations with me. or ignore the work that i post

[kaynanarie]

Eyes of Gold (Part 10)

(A WukongxReader story inspired by Beauty and the Beast and Lutung Kasarung.) (First) (Prev)

            In the weeks that followed, you fell into a comfortable routine. Most of your time was spent with Shihou as he taught you more about the mountain and its people. On the days duty called him away, the other monkeys welcomed you into their company. They helped you pick fruit, gather herbs, and even taught you how to weave your own basket. Cubs would ask you to play and the adults shared stories and gossip while work was done. The closer you grew with the troop, the more you began to feel like you truly belonged.

            The frequent trips to your own village soothed any lingering homesickness. You would bring food and speak with the elder before returning to the mountain with the setting sun. Each visit gave you updates on the villagers’ struggles and your sister’s increasing neglect. While you had been fortunate to avoid her notice so far, you were always careful to stay discreet.

            It was a day like any other as you left the mountain, waving farewell to Shihou. The sun was bright, the wind was cold, and your basket was filled with fresh fruit. It wasn’t until you reached the edge of the village that something seemed…off.

            Everything was eerily quiet; no bartering at the market, no children at play, not even the calls of bird or beast. The main street, usually bustling with activity, was completely deserted. Scattered buildings along both sides had suffered damage with a few reduced to piles of splintered wood. Something had clearly happened, but what? You couldn’t begin to imagine.

            Nothing moved and no one appeared as you crept in for a closer look. There was a silent tension in the air, as if village itself was holding its breath. “Hello?” you called, wincing when your voice echoed back. “Is anyone here?”

            “Quiet!” someone hissed. You glanced around but didn’t see another soul. “Do you want them to hear you?”

            “Who?” you asked, trying to follow the whispering voice. “Where is everyone?”

            Hands grabbed your shoulder and covered your mouth before tugging you back into the shadows of an alleyway. You shoved your attackers away and rounded on them, basket in hand and ready to swing. To your surprise, you recognized the two young men gawking at you as village farmers.

            “You’re alive!” one nearly shouted while the other continued to stare in shock. “Elder Gran was telling the truth!”

            “Truth about what?” you asked, glancing between the two. “What’s going on?”

            “Demons snuck into the village last night,” the second man said grimly. “They stole all the weapons and took everyone prisoner before we even knew what was happening. Elder Gran told us to find you and ask the Monkey King for help but we thought she was crazy sending us to the mountain!”

            “We were waiting till dark to make a run for it but the demons are still patrolling around, capturing anyone they find!”

            Footsteps and muttered voices echoed down the street, hushing the conversation. You peeked around the corner, seeing a long, scaly tail disappear into a nearby house. Clattering and crashing sounds followed as the inside was ransacked. Backing out of sight, you turned to the two farmers with a nervous nod.

            “If we can get to the mountain, I can ask Sun Wukong for help.”

            They both stared at you with a mix of doubt and disbelief. “You think the Monkey King would actually do something?”

            “I…can’t say for certain,” you admitted. While his offer of assistance had seemed genuine, the Monkey King’s feelings towards your village were still unknown. He might accept, he might refuse, “But the least I can do is ask. He said he would help if the village was in need and I believe him.”

            “Why would the Monkey King listen to anything you ask of him?”

            A nearby crash startled you and ushered your group further behind the buildings. The gruff voices of the demons passed by, casual and oblivious. You waited until they faded away to finally breathe again.

            “We don’t have time to argue!” you whispered, peering back out to the empty road. “If we’re going to get help, we have to get to the mountain now!”

            Despite their pale and nervous glances, both farmers nodded. Taking a final sweep of the area, you tiptoed out of the alleyway and gestured for the others to follow. “The coast looks clear. Let’s hurry before they come back.”

            “Too late for that, humans!”

            Within seconds, the empty village was suddenly crawling with a dozen demons; jumping down from rooftops, creeping out of buildings, and appearing from shadowy side streets. They ranged from hairy to scaly to feathery. All were armed, armored, and wearing sharp sneers as they surrounded your group.

            Icy fear flooded your veins as the circle grew tighter, your chances of escape shrinking with every step. Nowhere to run, no way to fight, and Shihou was too far to save you this time.

            A snake-like demon with long fangs hissed in disdain. “Take them away and put them with the other prisoners. The rest of you, keep looking for any other stragglers.”

            “Wait! That one there!” a dreadfully familiar voice growled from the crowd. You turned to recognize the hunched wolf from weeks before. His hackles were raised, teeth bared and eyes glaring as he pointed you out. “Venerable Great King! That’s the human responsible for our captain’s death!”

            “We finally found them?” The deep, booming question shook you nearly as much as the thunderous steps trembling the ground. A monstrous bull stomped his way past the other demons until he towered over you. He stood up right, taller than any man you knew, with hooves and a bovine head complete with horns, curved and wickedly sharp. The bull stared down at you, bemused and unimpressed by what he saw. “So, you’re the human responsible for the wolf captain’s demise? Seems unlikely.”

            “I didn’t kill him!” you squeaked in protest. “They were trying to kill me!”

            “As much as I believe you,” the bull said, grabbing your arm and shoving you to the ground. “I’m afraid I can’t allow demon-killing humans to go unpunished.”

            A huge battle axe was handed to him, the honed edge catching the winter sunlight. Your thoughts raced in a panic as the blade was lifted into the air. Memories of your father, your sister, and your beloved Shihou flashed through your mind. Tears gathered as the axe swung down, a raised arm your last line of defense.

            Something flashed, bright and golden. The surrounding demons groaned and hissed as they were temporarily blinded. You blinked the shine from your eyes and looked around, thankfully still in one piece. Warmth against your wrist caught your attention and you could only stare in bewilderment.

            The hair. The makeshift bracelet Shihou had given you was glowing, encompassing you in light that stopped the bull’s axe mid-swing.

            “What is this!?” the demon snarled, trying to force the blade down only to be flung back by the shield’s power.

            Faster than your eyes could follow, the hair unwrapped itself from your wrist and darted into the air. Extending itself into a gold thread, it tangled around the handled of the axe, yanking it from the bull demon and flinging it into a nearby roof. The blur of gold raced back to the bull, spinning itself around his hands to pin them together. No matter how much he fought and struggled, the hair refused to release him.

            “Whatever trickery this is, it won’t save you!” the demon bellowed.

            “It’s not me!” you shouted, equally confused.

            “Enough! Let’s see you spin your spells once you’ve been gored!”

            He stomped his hooves and lowered his head, the tips of his horns aimed right at you. Shouts of terror filled the street as the other demons fled, scrambled to get out of the way of the enraged bull. With a snort and a shout, he charged.

            Another flash of light and an earsplitting sound like thunder rattled the village. Something crashed into the ground just before the bull, throwing him back with the shockwave alone. You shielding your eyes as the dust settled and the glow faded into a familiar figure.

            His golden armor sparkled in the sunlight, phoenix feathers arched from his crown, and a heavy iron staff spun in his hand.

            The Monkey King had come.

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~🍑 Peach Friends 🍑~

@joyfulllittlething @iluxurycruisedthatship

(If you would like to join the tag list, let me know!)

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Took forever to find where to end this one but now, Bull Demon King! Got some action planned for the next chapter. Thank you to all my Peach Friends for reading! The love and support has really motivated me into keeping this story going!

You can also find this story on AO3:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/60643669

[poisonouspastels]

It really sucks when I notice that people in my friend groups will go out of their way to exclude me with shit. And I can't even say anything about it because then I come across as a dick because typically ignorance is feigned, or I'm called selfish for it

[topazadine]

Avoiding therapy speak in writing

I think we all know by now that therapy speak is irritating and unrealistic, especially if you are writing in a fantasy world that doesn't even have modern psychology.

Part of the reason that it is so annoying is that it is the definition of telling instead of showing: characters are just plainly informing us of their feelings rather than making us work for a better understanding. It's cheap and boring. Instead of making your characters seem like complex individuals with their own hangups and difficulties, they seem like plot points programmed to tell us things.

But obviously, you want to put these people in situations and have them talk about it! How do you do that without sounding maudlin? Here are some options.

Listen to real arguments/conversations

I cannot stress enough how important it is to listen to how actual real human beings talk to each other during heightened emotional states. They don't have to be nasty abusers, and they don't have to be perfect angels, just everyday people doing their normal thing.

Of course, I'd hope you're not seeing people argue all the time, but if you do happen to see it, listen carefully and notice how people actually address their problems. Think back to tough conversations that you have had, even if you wouldn't classify them as arguments. Consider how people acted and reacted to one another. Notice how normal humans talk about issues outside of therapy, even intelligent and emotionally evolved people.

I've had years of therapy, and even I do not talk in therapy ways about my issues when I'm talking to my family or friends. It just feels cheesy and fake outside of that particular setting - plus, it freaks other people out and can seem kind of manipulative. Try talking like that in a real conversation and see how uncomfortable it is. You'll understand why avoiding therapy speak is important.

Consider the character's own hangups

Just as everyone has their own unique speaking style and mindset, so do we all have our own argument styles. These are often informed by our pasts and upbringing; they are as varied as our own histories. However, there are a few different options.

Someone with a happy upbringing may be more assertive and willing to address their problems because they had that demonstrated to them as children.

A spoiled child will grow up to be a demanding adult who refuses to give any quarter.

Those who got yelled at a lot as children may shut down and fawn to avoid getting hurt.

Someone who grew up in a violent household may mimic that behavior and get incredibly aggressive when upset.

Individuals whose parents didn't teach them emotional regulation will lash out and get loud.

Manipulative people may stay very calm and gaslight the other person, or they may get hysterical to garner sympathy and make people focus on comforting them.

Someone who has gone to therapy may revert to their original argument style, or they may imperfectly apply what they have learned in a way that feels a bit unnatural. They may start out with rage, then force themselves to calm down through grounding techniques.

People who have been coached through previous emotional outbursts could demand a time out, then fail to actually calm themselves down.

Some may refuse to acknowledge they are upset and insist, in increasingly forceful terms, that they are fine.

Others may get quiet or crack a joke to ease the tension, but it doesn't really help.

Keep each confrontation short

IRL, emotional confrontations are generally not that long. They don't go on for hours and hours, though it can feel that way. No one is going on and on about their feelings and sharing every little detail of how they feel (at least not that I know of personally, maybe other people are different).

Even the worst arguments I have had, the real nexus of the argument was maybe an hour or two, though the fallout lasted much longer. I'd say there was an hour maximum of real, active confrontation, preceded or followed by hours/days/weeks of simmering frustration.

Why? Because arguments are exhausting. You don't have the energy for that in the heat of the moment. Yes, feuds and fights can last years, but each actual confrontation is short.

For longer, more serious issues, hash it out over a few sessions rather than all at once. It's rare to get everything out of the way immediately unless the characters already have a strong, loving relationship.

Show incongruencies

Especially for more reserved people, they will likely have their emotions leaking all over the place but won't actually say anything. As such, focus on body language while keeping the conversation more focused on the plot. For example, Character A might be crying but still trying to argue their point about whatever is going on.

Address physical complaints instead of emotional ones

In many cases, people will use "I'm tired" or "I didn't sleep well" or "I'm not feeling great" as shorthand for whatever is actually bothering them. It relieves pressure by not making them talk about upsetting matters while still addressing their discomfort in some form.

You should also consider the fact that some people can't connect physical sensations to feelings, so they may genuinely feel ill and not really understand why. This is especially common in people who can't emotionally regulate or have been through trauma.

For myself, I tend to somatize my feelings, so I might not feel upset, but I will feel physically sick. My stomach will hurt, my chest will get tight, or I'll get a headache, but my emotional state will seem calm. This isn't all that unusual, and many people experience this to different degrees.

As such, you can have your character say that their stomach hurts, or that they have a headache and can't discuss this anymore, or that they need to go lie down because they're dizzy. If we know they're relatively healthy, this can be a clue that they're getting overwhelmed but either cannot pinpoint their emotions or don't want to discuss them.

Let characters advance and retreat

A lot of the time, someone will address a scary emotion and then retreat again, sometimes over a period of hours, days, or even weeks. This is normal: most of us don't have the emotional fortitude to forge ahead through something difficult all in one go. Character A may say something vulnerable, then change the topic, laugh it off, say they're done discussing it, or even leave the situation.

Leave emotions partially unaddressed

Again, it's rare for someone to spill out everything they're feeling all in one go. As such, have Character A address the most important thing - or the least important, depending on their level of emotional maturity - and let it be done for then.

They might say their small piece, but when someone tries to probe deeper, they don't have an answer, or they get "stuck" on that one emotional level and cannot go further.

If Character B keeps pushing, then they may get incredibly upset and push back, or retreat.

Have Character B point out the feelings

Works especially well if the other character is a close companion or a parental figure. Often, people who know us really well will have better insight into our emotions than we do. Or, we might have good insight into our emotions but are still too afraid to open up. Having Character B point out the issue gives Character A grace to be more honest.

I can't tell you how many times I've been really upset, so I've distracted from the issue by getting angry about something completely different. Then, my mom will gently point out that I'm not actually crying about my new plastic cup being broken or whatever; I'm actually upset about XYZ. In that moment, I realize I've been caught out and admit that yes, that's what I'm really upset about.

Have Character A address it with a third character

Who among us hasn't gone to someone else to talk about our feelings? Having a third party serve as a sounding board is normal. Sometimes, Character A will feel such catharsis from this conversation that they don't address it as thoroughly with Character B.

Of course, you can use this to your advantage and create more tension if the third character gives bad advice or is biased.

Remember that just because the third party responded well does not mean that Character B does. You also have to avoid omniscience and remember that Character B wasn't privy to that conversation.

Have one confrontation be a stand-in for a larger one

I always think about the "The Iranian Yogurt Is Not the Issue" post when I think about this. Often times, things like not doing the dishes or whatever aren't actually the big deal: it's lack of boundaries, communication, or respect. A minor argument can be shorthand for a larger one that is too challenging for the characters to tackle.

This isn't just creating drama for the hell of it, though; it's about exploring the larger issues without making the characters lay it out on the table. A good reader will be able to see it's not about the Iranian Yogurt as long as you set up the relationship well.

Currently, I am writing a story where Uileac and his sister Cerie go to rescue Uileac's husband, Orrinir. On the way there, Uileac idly comments on how he wonders where a waterfall comes from because he's trying to distract himself from thinking about the fact that his husband is kidnapped and possibly dead.

Cerie, being pretty wound up too, starts arguing with him about it because she's like "why is this relevant? We're kind of too busy to think about geology right now!" Uileac gets annoyed at her for being so aggro, and she gets annoyed at him for being so irreverent. Both of them are upset about something completely different, but they're too scared and panicked to actually address that, so they release their frustrations by complaining about waterfalls.

Those bad vibes have to go somewhere, but neither of them are very good at talking about their feelings (though very good at stuffing them down). As such, they take the pressure off by sniping at one another. You've probably done this too, when you get into a dumb argument about something absolutely pointless because there's something you don't feel strong enough to discuss.

There's also the fact that if you're mad at someone about something but feel it's too stupid or petty to discuss, that frustration will leak out and everything else they do will annoy you, leading to a bunch of irrelevant arguments.

Use "reaffirmation" gestures

I talked about this in a different post, but after an argument, the "make up" stage doesn't always involve going "ohhh I forgive you" and big hugs and kisses, especially when the two characters aren't emotionally mature.

Instead, Character A makes gestures that reaffirm the relationship. This could be offering to do something Character B needs, making plans for later, or changing the topic to discuss something the other character cares about ("how are your cats doing?") etc.

Note that these "reaffirmation" gestures aren't the same as the cycle of abuse. This is more when two characters have had a difficult emotional conversation but aren't really sure how to continue being emotionally open, so they revert to something safer that still shows they care. They're not over-the-top gestures either, but more a special attention to something the other person loves. Knowing what the other person loves also demonstrates the depth of their relationship.

As always, I can't tell you what to do with your writing.

You are the crafter of your own story, and if you want people to talk like therapists for whatever reason, that's your choice. However, we want characters to feel like real people, and most real people don't lay it all out on the table every single time they're upset. If they do, they might be trauma vomiting, which is icky in and of itself.

Healthy communication isn't always perfect communication. People can have strong, loving relationships and still get things wrong - we're human. Having people calmly and rationally and easily talk about their feelings every single time is not only kind of boring, but it also feels weird, because unless we're primed to discuss those difficult topics and know we're perfectly safe, we're not going to do that.

People don't even do that in therapy, where they are paying for the service of talking about their feelings! Therapists also don't always do that IRL!

We're humans, and your characters need to feel like humans as well. That means letting them be imperfect communicators and using context clues rather than making them do all the work for the reader.

If you liked my advice, consider purchasing my book, 9 Years Yearning, for $3!

[mylittleredgirl]

today i'm thinking about b5 worldbuilding choices that seem like they were deliberately chosen to differentiate it from star trek. (this is a joyful statement, by the way, They Both Look Nice.gif)

i'm not talking about hyperspace/jumpgate technology, which is way too structurally load-bearing to think of as just Not Warp Drive.

it's more the small-ticket differences, like earthforce using american measurements (when the real life american military uses the metric system), and the sometimes conspicuous absence of the sci-fi technologies that are most iconically identified with star trek: transporters, replicators, all-purpose tricorders... and phasers with a stun setting, which is where things get kinda fucked up.

the sci-fi gun filling the phaser niche on b5 is the PPG. it's also a bloodless energy weapon, but it only has one setting, which is at least as deadly as a modern gun (i say "at least" because of how often someone is "killed instantly" with a single shot). officers are not armed with a less-lethal option.

in season one, it's routinely emphasized that no one except earth force personnel can have weapons of any kind on the station. the ban is pretty hardcore. not even religious ceremonial knives are allowed, there are active scans of everything coming on board, and security has the right to check for weapons even in the "foreign soil" of ambassadorial quarters.

there are a quarter of a million people here on any given day, mostly civilians, many of them aliens. there's a backdrop of petty crime, mostly theft and fistfights. occasionally someone gets stabbed with a homemade shank. security has Shit To Do! people to arrest, and so on. but the total weapons ban means that in the vast majority of cases, anyone that security can expect to encounter, especially inside the station (vs. the customs area) will be unarmed.

and this all seems like a recipe for disaster. a human in uniform killing an unarmed alien bystander (or a suspected petty criminal who hasn't been charged with anything) is going to be a problem for the Don't Start Wars With Aliens station!! of course the initial peace train derails mid-series, but at the beginning, sinclair is really holding on to the goal of peace by his fingernails. you would think that both he and earthgov (who Really want to keep earth out of war) would prefer that the random dumbasses in security carry a non-lethal option as a first-line weapon, even if they are also armed with a backup PPG... which implies that the humans in the b5 universe just never bothered to work on this technology.

meanwhile, in the real world, police tasers came into use in 1993, at the exact same time as b5 started. the idea that cops should have a way to subdue someone resisting arrest without shooting them was a pressing concern in the national conversation... so somehow it ends up being worse than just picking american riot cops off the street and sticking them in space. to us at home, especially in the 2020's, it fits in with the rest of the "hey, don't you and the good guys think this is kinda fucked up?" stuff, but it's not treated that way, because the good guys don't notice it at all (that's honestly a theme with law enforcement issues in b5 in general, but that's another post).

which is why i wonder if it was a Not Like Star Trek choice early on to avoid "set phasers to stun," and it just never came up again.

[rabbitf0ot]

Chains and tears

husk x gn!reader, fluffy, meetings, Husk and reader becoming friends. tw: ownership, Alastor being a huge prick, short of panic attack, SPOILHERS!!

Important!!

Alastor, Husk and Charlie will speak, each one of them being represented by a color, each color being the color of the names written above. Alastor’s influence over reader will also be written in green

You hadn’t been in the hotel much, being a new resident, around just enough to see Angel’s “fight” with Husk and to meet Lucifer, the king of hell itself and father of the hotel host, Charlie, the worst representation of a demon you had ever seen, being more of angel then anything else. Although Charlie’s reception had been nice and warm, you hadn't made any friends yet, you’ve tried to, really hard, but you had always been a social awkward, both as a human and a demon. Not being able to make friends didn’t mean that no one had caught your eye, being an observant person- demon? You don’t know anymore has its qualities, when you weren’t being overwhelmed with Charlie’s group activities and what she called “Welcome to your new home” gifts, you were analyzing the others, not in a creepy way, just in your own oddly curious manner. It didn’t take you much to have mental notes of all of the Hazbin residents, Charlie being classified as a sweet and “innocent” demon, that probably didn’t had many struggles during her life or that at least hadn’t been fooled during her lifetime, or else she wouldn’t be that trusting. Well, that’s what you assumed. Sir Pentious wasn’t far away from Charlie’s description, just less innocent with an ego a little way too big when it came to his machines, but with a low self-steam. Vaggie was said as Charlie’s girlfriend, someone who balanced Charlie’s innocent and childish personality, someone more mature and suspicious, Angel wasn’t very different from your old college classmates, always going to many parties and using their humor to avoid thinking about their problems and traumas, somewhat unstable people that could be triggered out of sudden for refusing to set their boundaries until it was too late. Lucifer, you hadn’t been with him much, the best information you could take about him was when Charlie had a phone call with him and you heard their conversation. Absent parent, maybe even a negligent one. Alastor, you didn’t want to think of him, ẏ̶̮ö̶͇́ȗ̴̻ ̵͇̒c̴̢̛ǫ̴̕u̴̩͌l̷͋ͅd̶̹̉n̸̛͈’̵͔̊t̴͉̆ ̷̡̽t̵̢̃h̵̠̀i̸̮͆n̸̠͑k̸͔̅ ̷̯̕o̵̜͠f̵̼͂ ̸̟͂h̷̛̪ï̵̖m̶̢̋. And Husk, Husk in your eyes, was rather.. charming, having your attention since the start, you didn’t know why though, maybe it was due to his older age, or due to the so familiar but oh, so good smell of cheap booze mixed with an expensive perfume, or maybe the way he talks and the small cute and endearing cat sounds he makes, you’re not sure, either way, the extra attention you had over him bought you to where you are right now, keeping a long distance from the others, just a few feet in front of Alastor as you follow the hotel residents that do the same, following Charlie as shows the place to her father

“So, once we have the proof that redemption is possible, this whole hotel will be full of demons wanting to check out into heaven, we just need a little more time to prove it-“ Charlie’s words were cut off by a background sound, Husker’s voice. “Hey boss” all that Charlie and the others were saying became nothing more then simple buzzers, “boss”. That called your attention. Why would Husk call Alastor boss? Why was it so hard to think of a reason? You follow the others, just a bit longer, long enough simply to turn in the hallway and disappear from Husk’s and Alastor’s view. You stood there, listening, the others not even noticing that you were behind, but it didn’t surprised you, they didn’t notice when Alastor and Husk also did. “Uh.. can I have a word?” You hear a rather creepy cracking noise followed by Alastor’s voice, that sounded rather annoyed and snappy “what is it?” “You and I both know that Mimzy only shows up when she needs somethin’. That bitch is trouble and who knows who kind of demon she fucked up with to come run into you this time?” “It’s nothing I can’t handle! Don’t worry Husker, who in the right mind would cross me?” The cockiness on Alastor’s voice makes you insides twitch, the submissive tone Husk used after it just made everything worse “I-I mean, you’ve been gone for a while and it’s not like anybody knows why” “they don’t need to know!” Alastor says before adding in a “pet like manner”, and the fact that he’s talking like that with a conscious being, a grown ass man, the person you wanted to be friends with made the hair of your neck stand up “and don’t you worry your fuzzy head about it” a low growl indicates they’d you’re not the only one disgusted “you may owe my soul but I ain’t your fucking pet!” You shiver at another cracking noise and Alastor’s convinced chuckle “but you are!” “Big talk for someone who’s also on a leash” and these were the last words you heard before the lights of the hallway started to fail and the place to get a reddish atmosphere, weird radio noises polluting the ambient “what did you say?” You flinched and took a step back when hearing a groan and chain noises followed by something heavy hitting the floor, a green light coming from the part of the hallway that alastor and husk were “nothing!! I- uhh-“ a chocking noise, another painful groan, your hearth aches, barely having time to recompose, “if you ever say that again, I will tear your soul appart and broadcast your screams for every other disrespectful wretch who dares to question me” “u-understood” “lovely!” You don’t need to see husk to be aware that he’s shaking, even you, who isn’t the one being threatened is at the very edge of shaking “good talk my good man” the atmosphere stars coming back to normal “always nice to catch up” alastor says and walks pass you, not bothering to do anything other then smile at your threateningly.

You shake, mentality cursing yourself for not having interfered while Husker was being threatened, but the fear you felt was overwhelming. You can only imagine what was going on Husker’s mind. Forcing your shaky legs to move, you walked towards the cat demon, you were going to speak, say something, ask something, probably something stupid like “are you okay?” “Do you need to vent?” But you stopped yourself once you saw the Bartender form laid on the floor, shaking, the fur of his neck and back standing on end while his tails furiously flicked around, in a mix of shame and impotence with an undertone of fear. Seeing that, the first thing you do is to crouch and take one of his paws while you gently wrap an arm around him, trying to give him the support he needed -emotionally and physically- he looked at you, his eyes shining with fear and shame while his lips instinctively curl into the form of a growl, showing his fangs. You don’t let go. You keep holding his paw (taking that opportunity to discreetly squeeze his paw beans that were so cute!) and helping him to stand, after a few moments of silence you ask, your voice barely above a whisper “are you okay?” He doesn’t answers, all that he does is to look at you and growl loudly, you don’t feel intimidated, you actually feel bad for him. Imagine just being threatened and having to comfort you a random person who you had never spoke properly with before? It must be just.. depressing. That makes you ignore his growl, his snarl, his rude mumbles and his tail flicking around and casually hitting your legs from time to time. You ignore, giving him supper as you ask “apartment or bar?” Husker looks confused for a second, but soon lets out a “tsk” noise while looking down and mumbles “bar”. He accepts your help, for a while, at least, before the hallway before the bar ended, reaching the hotel lobby, where he pushed you away, loosing his balance for some seconds due his shaky legs before he regained it, forcing himself to walk normally and come back to his spot at the bar, immediately coming back to clean some cups, griping on them rather tightly to hide his shaky paws.

You didn’t talk with Husk anymore, but you kept yourself around, distant from the others, like usual, watching the residents of the hotel, the souls Husk called friends to not notice -or to ignore, you can’t tell- the way his tail would flick around him, or how he would tense up when Alastor’s name was mentioned, how his ears would move constantly, searching for any noise, footsteps, radio static, anything, not noticing even the most clear signs like Husker unconsciously scratching cups with his claws as he cleans them with a thin dark red rag.

You wait, sitting on the sofa next to the bar, by yourself, sometimes refusing Charlie’s asks to join the group. You wait, reading a book, using your phone, doing anything, anything that wouldn’t take you away from the bar. You wait one hour, two hours, three hours. No one but Husk is at the bar anymore. Still cleaning bottles. Once you notice that no one is coming back, you walk towards the bar, getting a loud snarl out of him. It doesn’t makes you back off, you just walk behind the bar balcony and grab one of the rags the bar had and start to clean the bottles with Husk. He’s staring at you the whole time, and as much as it bugs you to the point of starting to sweat, you stay firm. “What are you doing?” Husk asks, his tail flicking annoyedly behind him, but lower and in a calmer peace. Less annoyed “helping you to close everything” he looks at you, in a mix of anger -probably for thinking that you’re pitying him- and confusion -why would you help him anyways?- “why” he asked, no, demanded an answer. You shrug and simply says while putting the cup you were cleaning away “bc I can”

And that’s how you spent 2 hours cleaning everything on the bar in an awkward silence with your bottled up crush.

I hope you all enjoyed it!! I wanted to make a more detailed meeting with Husk, how reader got close to him since in almost all the fanfics I’ve read, Husk and reader already date or are really close to. I plan on making this history last more 2 or three parts, one of them (probably the last one) being spicy. Anyways, hope you all liked it

[petrichor-idyllic]

hey!! i love ur work. could u do hcs for the boys fighting for the readers attention?? 🫶🫶

Of course I can.

Pronouns weren't specified so gender-neutral reader.

GIVE ME ATTENTION

MASTERLIST | MULTI-CHARACTER MASTERLIST

SUMMARY: See above. Gender-neutral! Reader x Glader boys.

You're the most popular Glader around, and it seems like all the boys have a thing for you, so, how would they get your attention?

WARNINGS: Inappropriate language, dumb teenage boys, possessiveness and other slightly problematic themes (I don't condone but it's fiction).

THOMAS

Considering that Thomas moves at a million miles an hour and has Teresa (*cough* and Newt *cough*) as potential love interest(s), I don't think Thomas would actually fight for anyone's attention.

I know, I know, that defeats the point of the prompt.

But, if anything, especially in the books, Thomas is kind of actively trying to avoid attention.

And failing monumentally.

So, I think if he'd want your attention, he'd seek it out in private.

He wouldn't be the type to chase you around the Glade, pining for your attention.

He'd wait until there'd be a moment alone.

Maybe when you're enjoying your own company, chilling after a long day's work, Thomas would approach you.

And he'd get your attention that way.

In an intimate, one-on-one way.

Just simple conversation getting to know one another and some light, and kinda awkward flirting.

Which I guess is a good (and healthy) way to get someone's attention.

Good job, Thomas.

NEWT

Maybe it's because there isn't much romance in the series, but I can't see Newt fighting for attention in the traditional sense either.

He's the second in command and has enough on his plate.

I can, however, see him going out of his way to offer you more guidance.

Or he'd act nicer to you and let you get away with more stuff.

He'd probably give you gifts and convince Frypan to give you more food.

He'd basically use his influence over the Glade to give you an easier time.

It'd be subtle.

And you might not even realise he'd been doing it until you'd ask Minho or somebody and it'd get spilled.

That's probably when you'd develop an actual relationship.

MINHO

Now, unlike the previous boys, Minho absolutely would be the stereotype of dumb, slightly overly-cocky teenage boy trying to get his crushes attention.

He'd flex around you.

He'd crack more jokes than usual around you.

He'd also try and act cooler around you at the same time.

You'd "bump" into him at random occasions.

He'd tease and poke fun at the other Gladers to make himself seem better.

Though that being said, he would not be good at flirting.

It'd be the kind of cheesy flirting that would leave you rolling your eyes and having to stop yourself from laughing.

Though, if you'd ever flirt back, he'd lose his cool and be turned into a stuttering, flustered mess.

Not such a cool guy after all, huh?

GALLY

Gally would be a problem.

More of a problem than usual.

He'd get in fights and insult people in front of you to try and make himself seem seem tougher and more "manly".

Not attractive and definitely not healthy.

You'd often grace his presence and then someone else would end up bruised and bloody.

Alby hates you.

Even though you've done nothing wrong.

He'd also try extra hard at work around you.

Lifting heavier things, barking more orders and pushing himself to his building limits.

"Oh no, it's too hot doing all this manual labour- better take my shirt off" typa energy.

Definitely more of a physical attention seeker.

Though, I think that'd probably scare you off more than anything.

Or maybe not.

I don't know what you're into.

FRYPAN

You'd be well-fed, to say the least.

Fry would get your attention in a similar way to Newt.

By providing you with food and anything you need.

Though, he'd be more open and complimentary.

Despite popular belief, he'd probably be the best out of the boys when it'd come to flirting and making you notice him.

He's not shy, but he's not an idiot who succumbs to his emotions and starts acting really different because he has a crush.

He'd ask you what you'd want to eat.

You'd accidentally end up picking the meals for the Glade everyday.

People would start asking you to get Fry to make their favourite foods.

Like Gally, he'd put far more effort into his work.

But in a healthier way with less violence.

Definitely a sweetheart, and no threat.

Thank God.

ALBY

He simply would not.

Not even Movie! Alby.

This definitely isn't my best work but I'm also working on part 2 for "on my own"- which is a lot of hard work because I have to actually follow the plot lmao.

Sorry.

Ahhh I'm back.

Anyway, I hope you liked these dumb lil headcanons :))

[hairstevington]

songs that voices never share (2)

Deaf!Steve Harrington x Eddie Munson

Summary: Steve receives a letter from El and goes on a quest to fulfill her wishes. Along the way, he runs into Nancy as well as the intriguing metalhead that Steve can't stop thinking about, for better or for worse. (part 1 found here)

Warnings: Lots of angst, good babysitter Steve Harrington, use of ASL, appearances from a bunch of the kids, Steve and El are penpals and it's very cute

Word count: 3.6K

A/N: I am going to move this story over exclusively on Ao3, so please follow along there if you're interested!

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

Chapter 2 - I'm getting further away

Steve wanted to go directly to Robin’s after dropping the boys off at home, but he forced himself to wait until they worked together the next day. It was after dark, and Mrs. Buckley wasn’t the biggest fan of teenage boys showing up at the house unannounced and distracting her daughter from studying.

Pssh. As if Robin didn’t distract herself most of the time. 

Steve had pulled his typical Harrington move a few times and snuck up to her window, which Mrs. Buckley didn’t love, but she accepted, as long as he didn’t step on any of the flowers in the garden when he did so - he learned that lesson the hard way. Anyway, Robin’s mom tolerated Steve’s excessive presence in Robin’s life because she was happy that Robin had a “handsome boyfriend.” While Steve was a year older and not in college, he still had a decent reputation in the town (somehow), and Mrs. Buckley approved of him, more or less.

He would have called her, but his hearing over the phone was hit or miss, and besides - he wanted to see her face when she found out. 

So, Steve went home. He went up to his bedroom (which Robin often called the torture chamber due to how poorly it was decorated and also the general vibes of Steve’s house being off), and he thought about Eddie.

Seriously. Eddie. Steve Harrington was lying in his bed, staring at the ceiling, thinking about Eddie Munson. A total freak. The bane of Steve’s existence due to the fact that Eddie was actively replacing Steve in Dustin’s life. That Eddie. And all because of Tommy and Jonathan and Billy and the Russians all treating Steve like a punching bag until he started losing his hearing, and now that guy, Eddie Munson, was one of the only people Steve would be able to communicate with. 

Okay. So apparently Steve had gone from being excited to being angry about it. Funny how that works. At least Steve understood anger better than he understood…whatever the hell he’d been feeling before.

Eddie seemed to be, like, fluent. Steve wasn’t. He’d been practicing pretty much nonstop for three months, but that didn’t mean much. He could carry a conversation as long as people talked about very specific topics. And even then, Steve wasn’t sure he was signing half the words correctly. Books about ASL were great but not exactly the best way to learn a 3-D, visual language. 

The impending migraine he’d felt approaching over the course of the day was getting worse. It was probably going to rain tomorrow or something. That was a thing, right? Feeling achy and sore before a storm hits? Or was that only an excuse for when his mom didn’t want to do chores? He could have looked it up at any point, but he didn’t feel like it. Robin or Dustin would probably already know the answer, anyway. Who knows? Maybe Eddie would, too.

Ugh. Steve was sick and tired of feeling like the stupidest person in his life.

-

The next day, Steve woke up and noticed an envelope had been slipped under his door. He rolled his eyes, consistently amazed at how his parents avoided trying to talk to their own son. Whatever. He walked over to grab the letter and noticed it was from El. 

It was kind of exciting, receiving a letter like that. The last time he’d gotten letters in the mail, they were rejections from colleges, so this was a lot more fun, even though he barely knew the girl. He opened the envelope and read it.

Dear Steve,

I do not know you very good well, but I want to practise writing. Will is helping me with grammer and spelling because I am not good at it. I am working on it and I think I will be good at writing soon. 

School is okay. It is nice to have friends, but the homework is hard. Joyce and Jonathan do not help me much. There is a woman at school who helps me. She is nice but she smells bad. Will told me it is something called perfume. I asked Joyce and she told me women wear perfume for dates. Why is Mrs. Vickers wearing it at school? Will says she likes Mr. Samson and that is why. But then I asked her and she said no and that he is married. 

I wrote Mike and Max letters too and they probably will get them at the same time you do. If you see them, can you make sure they have them?

I hope you are good. How are your ears? 

~ El Jane

PS: My name is Jane. Please call me that.

Steve smiled. There was something so endearing about it. El - er, Jane - was just a girl, and yet she’d saved a lot of people’s lives a bunch of times. She’d saved Steve’s life at that mall - that is, unless he dreamt that. It was right after he’d puked his guts from the truth serum shit so his memory was a bit faded. But he was pretty sure El threw a car across the room and then Jonathan sliced her leg open to get some wiggly thing out of her.

Jesus. That whole night was fucking wild. Why did nobody ever talk about it?

Anyway, it was Saturday, and the boys (Dustin, Lucas, and Mike) were hanging out in Nancy’s basement to do god knows what. Probably something nerdy. Although, Steve didn’t mind the nerdy shit as much now that he was friends with Dustin and Robin. Since Jane specifically asked Steve to check if Mike got his letter, and it’s not like Steve had anything else to do, he got in his car and headed to the Wheeler’s.

It struck him as he approached the driveway that Nancy could very well be in her own house on a Saturday afternoon, so he might see her. 

Idiot. 

Well, he couldn’t leave now, because Nancy’s Dad was totally paranoid and probably would have called the cops about a mysterious car pulling up and then driving away. Unless he was asleep on the couch or something, which he did pretty often. It was 50/50 with Ted Wheeler. Eh, more like 75/25.

Being at Nancy’s house was weird. He didn’t go there very often other than the occasional drop-off after Hellfire. He and Nancy were fine, in the technical sense, but still. She broke his heart and left him for Jonathan. They were exes.

Of course, she was the one who opened the door.

“Oh!” she said once she saw him. “Um, Steve! Hi! What are you doing here?”

Fair question.

“I’m looking for your brother.” Steve nonchalantly signed YOUR BROTHER as he spoke without even thinking about it. Nancy looked at his hands and pressed her lips into a thin line. She’d been acting extra weird around him ever since he’d told her about the hearing thing. She didn’t learn any ASL, she just stopped talking to him - which was fine, because it’s not like they had much to talk about unless the world was ending or something.

Which meant they probably still had at least a few months of silence between them before they were due for another apocalypse.

“I think so,” Nancy replied, looking behind her. “One second.”

Nancy walked ten feet closer to the basement door and yelled for Mike, who tumbled up the stairs and ran to the door so fast Steve wondered if Mike had considered joining the track team. Steve already supported Lucas joining the basketball team, and even helped him out before tryouts. Lucas didn’t need much training, though. He was a natural at basketball. 

Mike was huffing and puffing when he noticed it was Steve asking for him, and then his face fell. 

“DUSTIN!!!” Mike yelled behind him. “YOUR STEVE IS HERE!” Steve rolled his eyes. One good thing about talking to Mike was that he frequently yelled, which translated to a more normal volume for those who’d had ruptured eardrums. 

“I’m not here for Henderson,” Steve clarified. “I’m here because your girlfriend wants to know if you got your letter.”

“You - what?!” Mike exclaimed. “How did you know that - since when do you talk to El?”

The other good thing about talking to Mike was that he was relatively good at enunciating. This was especially helpful considering Mike signed BITCH instead of TALK. But hey, at least the kid was trying.

“Her name’s Jane, now, dude,” Steve corrected him. “And uhh - I dunno. She wrote me a letter too.”

Mike clearly did not like any of this. He crossed his arms and scoffed so dramatically Steve had to hold himself back from laughing.

“MOM!” Mike yelled. “DID I GET A LETTER?” There must have been a response in the background, because Mike looked like he heard one. He turned back to Steve and nodded. “Yup got it.”

“Great,” Steve replied. Unfortunately, only half his job was done. “Did Max get hers?” Mike shrugged.

“I don’t know,” he answered. Steve sighed.

“Okay,” he said. “Do you know where she lives?” Mike responded, but Steve couldn’t for the life of him figure out what he said. It looked like - “Frosties?” Mike shook his head and said it again.

“Forest Hills,” he clarified. Steve furrowed his eyebrows. 

“The trailer park?” he asked. Mike nodded. “Oh. Okay. Thanks.”

Steve always had a headache after talking to people, because he had to concentrate super hard to get what they were saying. It was getting old. He turned to go back to his car, but was stopped when Mike grabbed him by the wrist. Steve spun around and tried not to laugh at how hard Mike attempted to look menacing.

“Don’t hurt her, understand?” Mike demanded. At least he had one sign down - UNDERSTAND. Steve nodded, regretting that he taught Mike anything. 

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Steve responded. Jane could still kick his ass probably, even without her powers. 

He left for Forest Hills after that, feeling somewhat sad for Max. He hadn’t really talked to her much, so he didn’t fully know her deal, but he knew she grew up with a psycho brother and was angsty enough to take down said brother. Steve was knocked out cold for it, but Dustin had told him her attack involved using Steve’s nail bat to threaten Billy’s junk. 

Needless to say, Steve was kind of terrified of Max. 

All that said, Forest Hills was known for being - uhh - not the best place to live. It was relatively close to Steve’s house, and his dad warned him all the time growing up not to go there. He told him it was filled with the worst kind of people.

Then Steve grew up, and he realized his dad was among the worst kind of people, not the folks at the trailer park. 

It was just sad there. Even though people lived in the trailers, something about it felt empty at all times. Hollow. Miserable.

Steve realized he hadn’t asked which trailer belonged to Max’s family (idiot), but thankfully she was outside feeding the dog when his car pulled into Forest Hills.

She didn’t seem at all surprised by his arrival, or maybe she just didn’t care. It was probably the second one. 

“What are you doing here?” she asked after Steve got out of the car. She looked around her, and Steve could have sworn she saw a crack in her tough exterior. He wondered how many people knew this was where she lived now. 

The sky was cloudy. It would probably rain any minute. Steve’s head was pounding. 

It was at that moment Steve realized how ridiculous this whole mission had been. This girl who he interacted with like three times in his life wrote him a letter and asked him to check in on two other kids, both who Steve also didn’t have much of a relationship with, and he just…did it? Because he had literally nothing better to do on a Saturday?

Oof. He had no idea when he got so pathetic. 

“Steve?” Max called. Steve was too lost in thought to even respond, but within moments she was standing a foot in front of him. Despite being a lot shorter than he was, she still seemed tall. She signed, WHAT’S UP? He took a deep breath. 

“God, this is -” he said. “This is so stupid. Did you get El’s letter? I mean - uh - Jane’s letter?” 

Max’s gaze softened. 

“Is she okay?” she asked, slight fear in her expression. Steve nodded. 

“Yeah,” he answered. “She just uh - she sent me one, too. Asked me to check that you and Mike got yours.” 

At the mention of Mike, Max rolled her eyes. At least she and Steve had that reaction in common. She walked to the mailbox, opened it, and shuffled through the (many) envelopes inside.

“Jesus,” Steve exclaimed. “Someone’s popular.” Max didn’t react.

“I always forget to check,” she said casually in response. Steve wondered why she would be the one who had to check the mail, but didn’t press it. Max took one of the envelopes and held it in the air. “Here. Got it,” she said. 

Max was acting differently. She was never the most bubbly person, but she seemed even more tense than usual.

“You okay?” Steve asked, signing OK. Max nodded and signed FINE. As much as Steve knew she was definitely for sure lying (seriously, Steve was the King of pretending everything was fine when it wasn’t, he saw right through this shit), he also knew he wasn’t great at the whole emotions thing. 

“Be nice to El or I’ll kill you,” Max threatened. Steve shook his head. 

“Why is everyone saying that shit?” he complained. “Seriously, I just -”

Suddenly, there was a sound that Steve assumed was thunder. Max’s eyes focused on something in the distance behind Steve, then pointed at her ear and nodded towards the noise. When Steve turned around, he saw Eddie attempting to put a garbage bag in the metal dumpster and failing miserably. 

He turned back to Max, who looked at him expectantly.

“What?” Steve asked. She looked back at Eddie, then to Steve again. “You’re the one who lives here, you help him.” Max’s face crumpled with judgment. 

“I’m a child,” she explained, as if helping Eddie with his task was a preposterous thing for her to do. Steve rolled his eyes and turned back to the dumpster, which was now closed. Eddie was wiping his hands on his pants, triumphant. Then, he locked eyes with Steve.

Shit.

Usually, Steve could pretend he wasn’t able to hear someone if they were far away, and then he didn’t look like a dick when he didn’t talk to them. Unfortunately, Steve couldn’t use that excuse with Eddie. 

HERE WHY? Eddie signed from across the park. 

Steve wasn’t sure why he was so nervous all of a sudden. It sucked that every single time he ran into Eddie, he forgot all ASL he’d practiced and instead just looked like a total fool. Steve pressed his lips together and gestured to Max beside him. Eddie raised an eyebrow. 

Steve looked at Max panicked, and she looked back at him. 

“He knows ASL?” she asked, impressed. Steve nodded. “How?”

“Uhhh, his mom is deaf,” Steve explained. “Was deaf. She’s dead now.” Steve knew like three things about Eddie, and those were two of the things. Of course, those facts sounded incredibly tactless when repeated without context. 

“Steve, what the hell?” Max replied. “You’re being weird.”

“I know,” Steve replied in a hushed voice. He went to go back to his car, then noticed that Eddie was walking right toward them. Steve’s eyes widened. 

Okay, here goes nothing. 

“This guy bothering you, Red?” Eddie asked. He was using a sign Steve didn’t recognize, but he assumed it meant BOTHER. Steve crossed his hands in a similar way at his waist, as if doing it would sear the sign into his brain. 

“No,” Max said. “He’s fine.” She signed FINE once again. She was really getting her mileage with that one. 

Steve signed a question that was meant to ask if Eddie and Max had met already. Thank God he was actually able to express a coherent thought. He was pretty sure it was grammatically correct, too!

MEET, Eddie signed back. Steve cocked his head, so Eddie continued. “You signed DATE,” he explained. He closed his fists more and then repeated the motion. “This is how you sign MEET.” 

Okay, so Steve officially had to disappear forever. 

THANK YOU, he signed instead, resisting the urge to hop in the car. TWO-OF-YOU MEET HOW? This time, Eddie nodded in approval at Steve’s signing, which felt good. He was still humiliated, but at least he’d slightly redeemed himself.

Eddie signed a whole bunch of words Steve couldn’t really follow, but thankfully Eddie spoke anyway. 

“We’re neighbors,” he explained. “Also, her boyfriend is in my club.” Eddie was signing while he was speaking like it was nothing. Steve watched in awe. 

“Okay,” Max interrupted, unamused. “I’m gonna go inside before it starts pouring, but it was nice to talk to you both, I guess.”

With that, she was gone. That left Steve and Eddie alone. It was times like these when he really wished he could telepathically summon Robin.

“So,” Eddie said. Then, he signed something else Steve couldn’t understand. YOU, something, then ME? 

The missing word was extremely important. Thankfully, Eddie seemed to recognize that Steve didn’t understand. Eddie fingerspelled, S-T-A-L-K, then signed STALK again. 

YOU STALK ME?

Once Eddie’s initial question clicked, Steve shook his head aggressively.

“No, no,” he insisted. “I came here for Max, because her and I have a bunch of friends in common, and -”

“Steve,” Eddie said, cutting him off. JOKING.

Steve exhaled in relief. “Oh. Right,” he said. From then on, Eddie spoke as he signed. 

“How long have you been signing?” he asked. 

“Three months,” Steve answered. “Started losing my hearing in July.”

“Shit,” Eddie replied. “So it’s very new.” Steve nodded, noticing that instead of signing VERY NEW, Eddie signed NEW with a more dramatic motion and expression. Interesting.

“Yeah.”

Eddie looked up at the sky, which had gotten a lot darker over the last few minutes. 

“Well,” he said. “We should take refuge before the storm hits. But for the record, you’re pretty good at ASL considering it’s only been three months.” 

Steve smiled. REALLY?

Eddie nodded. REALLY. 

Steve didn’t think Eddie had any idea how much this brief conversation impacted him. Eddie just walked away after that to go inside, but Steve lingered outside the car for a few extra moments. 

Then he realized how fucking weird he looked and drove home as fast as he safely could.

-

Steve had a few hours before work, which was good because his headache was still going strong. He figured he’d pop a Tylenol and take a nap or something. 

When he got back to his room, he saw his letter on the desk and decided he’d write back before he slept.

Dear Jane,

Hi! I honestly didn’t expect you to actually write me. That’s pretty cool. I double checked for you and Max and Mike got their letters. And then they both gave me the shovel talk - wait, do you know what a shovel talk is? They basically told me that if you and I are gonna be penpals, I have to be nice to you. That’s kinda bullshit, right? I’m, like, really nice, now. Except to Dustin, but only when he deserves it.

That was a joke. I’m joking. 

Steve crumpled up the paper and threw it across the room. What was he thinking, going on about shovel talks and how he sometimes bullies a literal child? 

He took a deep breath and tried again.

Hey,

I’m really glad you wrote to me. Things have been kinda hard, honestly. My ears are the same. Actually, they’ve gotten worse. Today they’re hurting me a lot. I’m starting to think I’m gonna go completely deaf and I don’t really know how I feel about it. I just feel like a total dumbass all the time.

Jesus Christ, was he seriously trauma dumping on a girl who’s formative experiences included being imprisoned and experimented on in a lab??? And now, she had even more shit to conquer. She didn’t need to hear about his problems. 

He thought about giving up, but decided to try one more time.

Jane -

It’s nice to hear from you. I always had a hard time in school, too. Nancy used to help me out with my papers because I’m a shit writer. So this is good practice for both of us 🙂

I just found out this guy named Eddie also knows sign language, so I want to try to get to know him better. He’s in Hellfire club with Dustin, Mike, and Lucas, so I’ll see him sometimes probably. It makes me feel less alone, I guess. I’ve been feeling alone a lot these days. Maybe that’s not a manly thing to say or whatever, but I’ve given up on trying to be cool. Cool is overrated, it’s lame-time for Steve. 

Shit. Robin told me to stop talking in third person like that. She’d probably be fine with it this time though since I was calling myself lame while doing it. 

Max and Mike both have their letters, so all is good on that end. All your friends here are doing well. I’ll keep an eye on them for you if you promise to look out for Will. Okay?

Until next time,

Steve

PS: Mrs. Vickers is totally trying to get with Mr. Samson. Keep me updated with this because now I’m invested.

Well. That was as good as it was gonna get. He sealed the envelope and climbed into bed.

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

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[bjfinn]

BIRDS OF A FEATHER

for @themorons

(contains a reference to the events in "Beetlejuice: Family Plot" by @jenniferstolzer)

One morning, shortly after breakfast, Lydia knocked on the door of her father's office. "Dad," Lydia she said, opening the door and looking in, "can I talk to you?"

"Of course, Pumpkin," Charles replied, folding his newspaper and setting it down on his desk. "Come in. What is it? Is something wrong?"

"No, nothing's wrong -- not exactly." She entered and sat in the client's chair, moving it closer to the side of his desk. "It's BJ."

"What's he done now?"

"Nothing! It's not like that -- it's just ... I don't know. I just wish you two could actually get along instead of just ... avoiding each other, you know? I mean, you're my father and he's my friend, and you agreed that he could stay here."

Charles nodded. "I know. But how am I supposed to relate to a ... a demon?"

"Half demon, half ghost. And you seem to be relating to Barb and Adam well enough."

"Yes, well ... they used to be human," he pointed out. "And they're decent, good-hearted people. BJ, on the other hand ..."

"Saved all of us -- twice. First from his own mother, and then from his father. Remember?" She put both hands on top of his. "Dad, I need you two to be on good terms with each other. I need you two to be friends."

"What would you suggest?"

Lydia shrugged. "I don't know -- maybe some kind of activity the two of you could do together?"

Charles smiled. "All right -- I'll do my best to think of something."

"Thanks, Daddy!" she squealed, giving him a kiss on the cheek. "You're the best!"

*****

"BJ," Charles said, putting an arm around the demon's shoulder, "now that you're a ... uh, a member of our family, so to speak, I think we should get better acquainted, you and I. Wouldn't you agree?"

Beetlejuice's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Uh, yeah ... okay, that makes sense, I guess."

"After all," Charles continued, "it wouldn't do for us not to get along when we're living in the same house, now would it? And for that to happen, well ... we need to get to know each other."

"Yeah, sure ..." Beej replied warily, scratching at his beard.

"Excellent!" Charles clapped his hands together in a gesture that clearly meant that the conversation had reached a satisfactory conclusion -- at least for him.

Beetlejuice, however, had no clue what had just happened.

*****

"What's wrong, Beej?" Lydia asked, noticing her friend's purple hair.

"Your dad was ... nice to me," Beej said, frowning. "He said that me and him should get to know each other better -- almost like he wants us to be friends. Is he planning something? Do I need to be worried?"

"Don't be silly -- Dad just thinks that, since you're part of the family now, that you and he should ... I don't know, bond or something," Lydia explained.

"That's so sweet," Adam said.

"It's weird," Beetlejuice grumbled.

"BJ!" Barbara chided. "It's not weird. It's nice -- he's trying. He wants the two of you to get along."

"It's weird and I don't like it. We had a good thing going, him and me -- like ... like ..."

"Like oil and water?"

"Yeah! Like oil and water!"

"Oil and water don't mix," Adam pointed out.

"Exactly my point," Beej replied.

"Beej, come on -- just give him a chance," Lydia said. "Meet him halfway. For me?"

Beetlejuice scowled, his hair becoming purple. "Oh, all right!" he agreed at last. "But I'm only doing this for you!"

"Thanks," Lydia said happily, and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. Beej's hair turned pink. "You're the best!"

"Yeah, yeah," he growled. But he was smiling -- he always felt good when he could make his best friend happy.

*****

"Hi, Chuck! Whatcha doing?"

"I'm just finishing up some paperwork," came the reply. He set aside the sheaf of documents and turned his attention to the demon. "Can I help you with something, BJ?"

"I was thinking about what you said before," Beej said, "about how you think you and I should spend more time together. I think so too -- now that we're family, we should, like, get to know each other better."

Charles smiled at that. "I'm glad to hear you say that."

"So what did you have in mind?"

Charles thought for a moment. "Do you like birds?" he asked.

"Yeah, sure ..." Beej replied -- he had no idea where this was going, but he figured it might be interesting. Besides, he'd promised Lydia that he'd give Chuckles a chance.

"Then perhaps we could go birding on Saturday," Charles suggested.

"Okay," Beej said. "Sure - why not?" Birding??? he thought to himself.

*****

"Chuck wants me to go birding with him -- what's birding?" Beej asked.

"Bird watching," Adam told him.

Beej looked confused. "Bird watching? Like ... watching birds?" he asked.

Barbara nodded.

"Watching 'em do what?"

"Watching them do what birds do," Adam replied. "Flying, singing ... you know, that kind of thing."

"It's a very popular hobby," Barbara explained. "Lots of people do it."

"Lots of people," Beej repeated. "Watching birds flying and singing and stuff."

The Maitlands smiled and nodded encouragingly. Beej frowned, completely bewildered. "Why?" he asked finally.

"It's fun," Adam replied. "You get to write down all the different kinds you see, and what they were doing ..."

"Why?" the demon asked again.

"To keep a record of the ones you've seen."

"Okaaay ... but why?"

"Just give it a chance, BJ," Barbara said. "Who knows? Maybe you'll enjoy it."

Beetlejuice looked unconvinced. "Sounds stupid and boring -- right up Chuck's alley."

"Do it for Lydia -- you did promise her that you'd try."

The demon frowned. "Okay, okay," he said with an exaggerated sigh. "I'll go 'birding' with him. But I'm not gonna like it!"

*****

"I hear you and Daddy are going birding," Lydia said.

"You're coming too, right?" he said.

"Sorry, it's just you and my dad this time."

"Ah, come on, Lyds! You gotta come! I'm begging you!"

"How are you and him supposed to bond if I'm there?" she asked. "No way, pal -- this is gonna be quality time for the two of you. I'd just get in the way."

Beej looked like he was about to cry. "But you have to come!" he whined. "Please? I'm your BFFFF, remember? Don't do this to me-he-he-heee!" He was sobbing now, fat tears running down his cheeks, his nose running. He pressed both fists to his eyes like a little kid. "I -- I thought I was your f-f-friend! "

"You are my friend," she said, putting a firm hand on his shoulder. "That's why I'm doing this. You and my dad have to spend some time alone together to get to know each other -- it's the only way." She gathered him in a hug. "It'll be okay -- he's really not so bad once you get to know him, you'll see. You might even have fun."

Beej sniffed loudly. He was still whimpering, but at least he was no longer in full meltdown.

*****

That Saturday, Beej and Charles headed to the park. Beej had dressed for the occasion in a safari outfit -- khaki shirt and shorts, knee-socks, even a pith helmet. He looked so ridiculous that even the normally staid Charles had trouble keeping a straight face.

"Do you know anything about birds, BJ?" Charles asked.

"I know that they fly and sing. No birds in the Netherworld."

"More's the pity. They're beautiful creatures."

"Is that why you like them?"

"Partly, yes," came the reply. "But mostly it's ... the freedom they represent -- the ability to go anywhere they want at a moment's notice, the ability to break free from gravity's hold without a care ... it's something I wish I was able to do.

"It's why I left New York to come to Winter River -- after my breakdown I needed some place where I could be free. Where Lydia could be free. I only regret not having done it sooner. Before Emily passed. She would have loved it here."

He looked at Beetlejuice. "I never asked you why you came to the house in the first place."

"Babs and Adam," Beej told him. "I was there because they were about to die, and I was supposed to be their guide to the other side. But I had other plans -- I didn't wanna spend eternity helping the newly dead cross over! That was my mom's idea! She wanted to punish me, and that was how she did it. Well, I showed her! "

"Ah, yes," Charles said. "Your mother. Delightful woman," he added, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"You said it."

"And your father left before you were ... uh, born."

Beej nodded. "Fuckin' deadbeat piece of shit. I showed him too, didn't I?"

"Yes, you certainly did," Charles replied. "And we're all very grateful to you, BJ -- and that's why I want us to get better acquainted. You saved my daughter and myself -- and the Maitlands - not just once, but twice. That was very noble of you. Especially after Lydia had killed you."

"Yeah, well ... I deserved it."

"And you also deserved a second chance."

"Thanks. But I'm still a demon."

"Well, we all have our burdens to bear."

Beej chuckled at that. Then suddenly his head snapped to the right. "What was that?" he asked.

"That, I believe, was a redwing blackbird," Charles told him, raising the binoculars to his face and following the flight path of the bird they'd glimpsed. "Ah! See?" he said, pointing. "There -- among the cattails at the river's edge!"

Beej looked at the spot Charles had indicated. "I see it!" he said excitedly. "God, it's beautiful! "

"Kon-ka-ree! "

"What was that? " the demon asked, stunned.

"That was its call," Charles explained. "He's claiming his territory and trying to attract a mate."

"Kon-ka-ree! " the bird said again.

Beej was nearly beside himself with excitement. "Wow! " he said softly. "That's amazing! "

"Your first official bird sighting," Charles said, smiling like a proud father. "Congratulations!"

"Kon-ka-ree! "

"Seems like our friend is congratulating you, as well."

Beej grinned. Then he saw a family of ducks, quacking softly as they emerged onto the riverbank. "What are those?"

"Mallard ducks," Charles said. "The one with the green head is the male, and that's his mate and their four -- no, five ducklings."

Beej stared open-mouthed at the waterbirds. "Wow! " he said again. "A whole family! "

Then a thought occurred to him. "Are male birds always better looking than the females?"

"Well, a lot of birds look the same regardless of gender," Charles told him. "But in those species where there's a difference, the male is always flashier."

Beej nodded approvingly. "Guys like to show off."

Charles chuckled at that. "Yes, I suppose that's true, isn't it?"

"You really know a lot about birds, huh?"

"I'm hardly an expert, but I think I'm reasonably knowledgeable for a layman."

"Can you teach me?"

Charles smiled. "It would be my pleasure, BJ."

"What's that one called?" Beej asked, pointing towards an oak tree.

Charles swung the binoculars around. "Which one? I don't see it."

"That one there," Beej replied. "In the tree -- the blue bird."

"That's a bluebird."

"I know -- the blue bird. What's it called?"

"That's it's name."

"What's the blue bird's name?"

Charles began to laugh. "It's called a bluebird."

"Really? Seems kinda too obvious." Beej grinned -- he didn't quite get what Charles was laughing about, but it felt good knowing that he was the cause. Then it hit him -- he'd been saying the bird's name all along. He started laughing as well.

Suddenly Charles stopped. He pointed to a spot under the oak. "Look!"

Beej looked. A brown bird with black head, wings and tail, a white throat spotted with black, and a vermilion breast was looking for something in the grass.

"A robin," Charles informed him. "Hunting worms."

Beej was stunned. "How many kinds of birds are there, anyway?" he asked.

"Thousands worldwide," came the reply. "But here in the Northeast there's about four hundred and fifty or so, I think -- maybe a bit more."

"How many have you seen?"

"Nearly two hundred so far," Charles said.

"Looks like I got a lot of catching up to do."

"You'll get there. In the meantime, how about lunch?" Charles asked. "Lydia made sandwiches for us."

Beej agreed, and they went over to one of the picnic tables sat down. Charles set his shoulder bag on the table and opened it. He pulled out a thermal bag, and from that he took several sandwiches wrapped in waxed paper and placed them on the table, followed by a thermos and two plastic cups. He filled the cups from the thermos and handed one to the demon.

Beej looked in the cup and smiled. Iced tea. His favourite.

"Now then," Charles said. "Lydia told me she made egg salad and chicken."

"Wait -- aren't chickens birds? And don't eggs come from chickens?"

"Yes, of course."

"So we're gonna eat birds while we're out here watching birds? That's sick! I like it."

Charles laughed so hard he nearly choked on his iced tea.

"So, Chuck," Beej said, "what else do you like to do for fun?"

"Oh, probably nothing that would interest you."

"Ah, come on. We're supposed to be getting to know each other, right?"

Charles nodded. "Yes, you're right. Okay, well ... let's see. I play golf, I collect stamps and coins, I played baseball in high school ..."

"Baseball, huh? What position?"

"Pitcher -- I was pretty good, too, if I do say so myself. I even thought about turning pro."

"Really?" Beej was intrigued. "So what happened?"

"I was injured in a car accident -- two weeks in the hospital and six weeks in rehab learning to walk again. After that, I decided on another, surer, path to success."

"Real estate. Sounds boring." He took a bite of his chicken sandwich.

Charles nodded. "I admit it's not the most exciting career, but it's given my family financial security. People will always need a place to live and a place to do business." He sighed. "I was quite the success, mind you -- u-until my breakdown, that is. But by then I'd amassed a small fortune, made some good investments -- enough to keep us comfortable. Now it's just a matter of tying up some last loose ends, and then I'll be out of that game forever."

Beetlejuice grinned at that. "So we're both retired."

"I suppose we are," Charles said, nodding. "Here's to retirement."

They raised their cups and drank.

A small brown bird hopped up onto the table and cocked its head at the demon. Beej froze and looked sidelong at Charles.

"That's a sparrow," Charles told him. "A male -- see the black throat patch?"

Beej nodded almost imperceptibly -- he didn't want to scare away their visitor. "I've seen sparrows before," he said, "but never up close." The sparrow hopped closer. "What do I do?" he asked.

"Just stay still," Charles replied. He watched as the tiny creature continued its cautious approach -- clearly its curiosity about Beetlejuice was stronger than its fear. "Let him decide what he wants to --"

The sparrow hopped onto Beej's left hand, which had been resting on the table. Beej's eyes flew open wide and he inhaled sharply -- thankfully, the intake of air was almost silent and the bird wasn't spooked.

The bird cocked its head from side to side for a moment, and then flew away, apparently having satisfied its curiosity.

Beej let out his breath. "Holy crap! " he exclaimed. "That was amazing! "

"It certainly was," Charles agreed, awestruck by what he'd just witnessed. "I've never seen one do that before."

"Really? Wow! " Beej was grinning from ear to ear, his hair bright green.

After lunch, the two of them continued rambling through the park. Beej was completely taken by the various birds (and other wildlife) they saw, asking Charles question after question. Charles, for his part, was more than happy to answer all of Beej's inquiries as best he could.

But all too soon they noticed that it was getting late, and soon it would be time for dinner.

"Did you enjoy yourself, BJ?" Charles asked as they headed home.

"Are you kidding? That was great! " Beej enthused. "I love birding!" He stopped, frowning in surprise at what he'd just said. "Never thought I'd hear myself say that." Then he shrugged. "Thanks for inviting me, Chuck -- uh, Charles."

Charles grinned. "You can call me Chuck if you want," he said. "I'm glad I asked you along -- it was fun, wasn't it?"

"That was SO much fun! Can we do it again next Saturday? Huh? Can we?"

[mermer404]

just a wild guess /gen: i think people are mad at audible because they are only acknowledging israel and not both israel and palestine at the very least?

also “tragic events in the middle east” is how audible phrased it. not OP.

it’s entirely tone deaf to give 6 months of free books in the first place when people are literally dying. but the overarching problem is also that audible chose to not speak up on the genocide happening nor chose to at least promote palestinian literature.

it’s less about dehumanising israelis and more about the obvious favouritism, y’know?

also, as admirable as the link for donations to the red crescent, it’s not of much use to palestinians right now because there are blockades places and they cannot receive any aid or relief. in fact, hospitals in palestine as of right now, are not even able to treat their patients. and, the banks are destroyed so there is no way for anyone to withdraw money in gaza (as reported by journalists on site)

would be much more helpful if you shared links to ceasefire petitions and BDS-approved boycott lists that directly fund the IDF.

tbh i feel like even israelis should boycott audible that was such performative activism from them.

Hi anon!

I'm responding to this because you're genuine and you're polite, which I appreciate. So many people don't bother with human decency, I want to acknowledge it. You are a person just like me trying real hard just like me and I want to send you my appreciation rather than ignore you.

However, I feel like you missed my point entirely. Maybe some time I will go over it point by point in detail with sources and shit, because you seem a decent person and maybe we could have an actual conversation, but we are it seems on very different pages and putting us on the same page would be a lot of work. A lot of what you said is misleading or only part of the picture, but I am very very tired and very sad, I can't do this right now. People I know have died and my heart aches. You understand that, I hope. Talking about this just makes me sadder. Can only do a little bit at a time, you know?

In short:

In case that wasn't clear: what is happening in Palestine (to avoid the "SiTuAtiON 😐" lingo it's being bombed and invaded, thousands of people are dead, probably tens of thousands even, most civillians and many children) is deeply deeply sad and upsetting. A dead child is a dead child and I am angered and hurt by it just the same. Civilian death is sad no matter what side they are on.

I am not your enemy. Our relationship may be complicated, but in many ways we are allies.

It is tone deaf but I didn't expect better from Amazon. This is a stupid publicity trick, it's pathetic. I did — god have pity on my poor soul — expect better from fellow leftists. This "😐" is the exact same patronizing indifference, done in the most stupid passive-aggressive way, that's the shit I'm talking about. This is how they talk about us, if not much worse.

I don't know how into social media you are, but if you've noticed: people talk a lot about Palestine (which again, is important) but they do not mention, not in one word in their dozens of posts on the topic, what happened on October 7th. If you get a lot of your info on social media, maybe you didn't know about it either. I empathize with what you are saying, I feel that kind of pain on my skin, because those same people are doing that to us. When people were being burned alive in their homes, children abused and shot, girls raped to the point of their bodies breaking, these same people were silent. I understand what you are talking about, deeply. Many of these people are upset when companies or celebraties do this kind of one sided thing and then go on to do the same to Israelis. When my people were dying, terribly, in horrific ways, they turned a blind eye, and that hurt, deeply. Especially as a Jewish person.

Donations do not only "get stuck" situationally, they are for the most part pocketed by Hamas, have been for years. It's one of the most rich terrorist organizations in the world, and a lot of it is money from people like you. The red crescent is one of the very few more reliable charities. I do unironically hope people donate — but they probably won't. This was meant to highlight the entire bullshitery of the situation. I'm well aware donations can be of little use. It's much more use than any of this garbage, though.

The BDS are a shitty antisemitic organization and I am kindly discouraging you from supporting them. I was going to link why they are shitty and antisemitic + peace organizations and charities you can participate and donate to instead but honestly I am so tired and I just want to cry. Do your own research. You got this.

Israelis' friends and family are dead. They are crying and aching while people here type away. Even with that, many are doing incredible amounts of activism — making food, donating clothes, delivering it all to the hundreds of thousands of people who've been forced to leave their homes near the borders. This is just one example. They are doing so much more than boycotting Amazon, which is honestly, excuse my french, a shitty lazy pathetic form of activism, that is basically what my post was about. People have been focusing on boycotts and random internet bullshit on Twitter instead of what really matters. Even the calls for ceasefire — Hamas have never in the history of its existence withheld a ceasefire agreement, and 240 civilians, 30 of them children, are still held hostage. Activism from the international pro-Palestine movements has been often useless, simplistic, ignorant and sometimes straight up violent. Just a few days ago a man was killed in a pro-Palestine protest. I don't want to discourage activism, quite the opposite. But people are so shit at it, meanwhile my people here and my brothers & sisters over the border are dying. Do you understand my frustration?

If this is what works for you I get that. The world is shit and you do anything to get a sense of control back. But I've lost too much and ache too much to have any time, energy or respect for the kind of bullshit these people have been up to.

If this is too harsh, or hurt your feelings, I am sorry. Again, the way I see it, you are my ally and I am yours. I hope you understand what I am saying and know my heart is with you. I hope your heart is with me, too.

Thank you for caring. Stay safe.

[golden-rats]

Hold Me Beneath The Stars

I had a several hour crying fit before writing this and finished the most part at 3 am while watching santa jaws with @sweatandwoe and @sherwood-forests. So don't expect a masterpiece.

Pairing: Dewdrop x Rain Warnings: Implied/Referenced SH Tags: Hurt/Comfort, late night conversations, dew always copes alone, but not this time Words: 2.5K

You can also find this on AO3 here

As dark and endless as the night always had seemed, with its everlasting abyss of shadows and sounds, the tranquility. It was no match for how it looked inside the fire ghoul. Mourning. Hurting. All alone as he chose. But not tonight. Not this time. Not when Rain could make a difference.

“Hey, what are you doing up so late?” Voice still sleepy, Rain came out of the kitchen with a glass of water in hand. Ready to snuggle back into bed. When Dewdrop walked by, still fully dressed and with such silent steps he wouldn’t even have noticed him if he didn’t practically walk straight into him. Noticing how he tensed up right away. Tilting his head so his long open hair covered most of his face. “Are you ok?”

He was not. But he couldn’t burden the soft ghoul with this. Anyone else but not his innocent friend. Even though he’d always be the first to aid a ghoul in need. They were his pack. And Rainy only felt complete when he was able to provide help and comfort. But Dew was afraid.

“Just going out for a smoke..”

“But it’s raining?” Furrowing his brows, he didn’t have any time to react before the other rushed by. Dim sparks trailing after him. Chewing on his bottom lip, the water ghoul wasn’t sure how to proceed best. Should he trust his friend and leave it be? It didn’t seem like the right thing to do. Something was up and even if the fire ghoul didn’t want to talk about it now, he should at least know someone was there to have his back.

Rain knew everyone's favorite spot. Where his kin liked to hang out, where they felt most safe and what places they used when wanting to be alone. Knowing to avoid them there if they didn’t actively ask him over. So it was only natural for him to have a guess where Dewdrop might be.

And he found him. Half sheltered by the small roof he sat under. Feet dangling off the garden wall. The only thing illuminating the blackness surrounding him being his cigarette whenever he placed it between his lips. And his glowing eyes. 

His eyes that are usually so full of life, of anger, excitement, mischief. How they sparked up whenever he had passion. How they shifted from the deepest red to a full sunset of emotions, over orange and yellow, a sea of summer petals. They were warmth on a summers day. They were blind rage ready to defend. 

Right now? They were dull. A flickering flame in midst of this tempest of feelings washing over him.

“Why am I so weak Rain. Why can't I be normal?” Even his voice sounded not like his. It was quiet. Almost as if not to scare Rain away like a wild deer. The water ghoul saw it as an invitation to climb next to him, sitting close enough to wrap an arm around the slender shoulders if he wanted to, yet giving him some space.

“...You aren’t weak. You are strong. That’s why you’re still here, that’s why we met in the first place. Nobody is weak, we just have different circumstances in life to start and go with.” 

“I'm not good for you or anyone else.” These kind of thoughts were no stranger to Dew. The important part is, they were always just thoughts.

“Why do you think so?”

He inhaled deeply. Still unsure about all this. “I can't provide anything other than problems. I'm rarely around you guys anymore and when I am, all I do is vent and sulk.” Rain feared for a while now his friend wasn’t doing well. Noticing the lack of presence outside their rituals. “I frequently break promises. I tell people the world and what they want to hear but if it gets too much I just leave, not caring what they might do in that time. I'm so out of touch with my own kin that I show no interest cause it gets too much or I overshare till they grow tired of me always talking and having an opinion on every topic.” The fire ghoul brought one leg up to rest his head on his knee. Not caring it’s starting to get soaked wet. He still loved the rain, the water. Never forgetting where his roots lie. 

“I'm not very likable but you all put up with me cause I'm around. Because I'm a part of this project and they need to get along with me. It has no impact if I'm there or not. I'm a disappointment not only to myself but especially to those around me. Those that think they can lean on me…” Flicking the cigarette away he closed his eyes. Not being able to even look at the one sitting besides him.

“I'm not in a position to do anything or care about my life so how the hell am I supposed to care for people that mean so much more and are deserving of the world? And I do absolutely nothing about the position I'm in. Which is pretty pathetic..” A small chuckle escaped him. Ears lowering and tail swaying ever so slightly, brushing against Rains. He didn’t pull away.

It pained the gentle ghoul to see the complete opposite of his friend. His companion and bandmate. To see him so broken. With so much doubt in his head, his voice, his words. He didn’t deserve that. No one did. 

Waiting a few seconds to make sure this was all for now, Rain spoke up as well.

“It has an impact on me if you are here or not. I care about you and I love you. You are the only one who can change how things are. I'm very happily here to help, but you have to have the will to change this all. And I know you can.” Trying to sound hopeful, he put on a soft smile. Reassuring Dewdrop he wasn’t alone like he thought he’d be. 

“Why hate yourself when you can become the ghoul you can love? While it is true nothing can be done now about your elemental change… That doesn’t mean you’re a different person. You always were and still are you.” His hand found its way to the claw next to him. Taking it to interlace their fingers. It was highly unusual for them to have such a serious conversation. But he was happy. Happy that the fire demon finally spoke up instead of bottling his sorrows away.

Small waves of smoke poured from Dews parted lips. Trying to grasp and find the right words. Looking down on their hands. “I don't know if I want to change even more. It seems pointless. To waste time and energy on myself if all I'll be doing one day is just, retreat back to the pit to free my surroundings of having to put up with more of my insecure and selfish ass. But because of ghouls like you, I just can't do that.” Shaking his head he let go of Rain holding him. “I'm simply overreacting about everything. Probably like right now.”

Tears started to form in the corner of the water ghouls eyes. Listening patiently. Hurting for his kin. What makes him think all of this horrible stuff about himself? He was loved by everyone. Aether would take a bullet for him. Even Swiss loves him more than he would ever let show. Patrolling the hallway in which Dews room was situated to make sure he was fine. The ghoulettes had the most fun with him around, getting some much needed carefree time.

“Dewdrop, you returning to the pit would be the most selfish thing. You aren't a bad person, you are just broken. We all are fucking broken in a way. But hey if we are here already, why don't we glue the shards back together to build something great? I know you want change because you don't like how things are. People are sad when they don't like things the way they are. But the beautiful ability you have as a being is to form the world. Including yourself, your actions, your surroundings. Anything.” He finally closed the distance between them. Nuzzling against the shorter ghoul. “And spending time and energy on yourself is never a waste.”

Rain noticed. Of course he did. He felt the thinly healed scars when his fingers trailed over the fire ghouls hand, wrist, arm. Burned skin under his fingertips. Marks from those times when Dews sadness poured out of him like molten lava. 

He sighed. Wanting to say so much more but being cut off by sharp words. Being convinced Dewdrop could somehow hear his thoughts. Knowing how he thought about the harm the fire ghoul put on himself.

“I feel disgusted with myself. I hate that I enjoy this, but I also don't. It's like looking at someone who finally gets the pain they deserve. As if it's not my body. I see the person and just want to break them, in any way possible, by all means necessary. Till they can't stand anymore.” The more Dew spoke the more his voice began to shake and crack. He wasn’t so sure himself if out of sadness or anger. Anger over his thoughts and what he’s spitting out in front of Rain. Being so vulnerable. Sadness about the loss of his former self. 

Water was gentle. It meant healing and life. Fire was destructive, violent. He didn’t want to be that way. 

…that’s why we met in the first place.

Right. The ghoul next to him wouldn’t be here if Dewdrop didn’t transform. This thought arising made him look up again for the first time since they started talking. Made him look at Rain. See him. Actually accept his presence so near. Going so far as to lean onto him.

“I’m happy you’re telling me your thoughts. It's already great progress and even if you hate yourself, you already became a better person with this. I'm truly proud of you for staying here with me instead of sinking deeper into your thoughts, locked away from all of us. We do notice and care. We all..” Even the water ghoul had trouble speaking straight at this point..

“I can see your view and understand how you feel, and even if I don't agree with how you see yourself it's not like you chose to be like this. We can work on this in several ways. Perhaps finding something different as an outlet. Maybe something that distracts you when you have thoughts like this. So you won’t have to hurt yourself.”

“It feels like I'm not allowed to stop yet.” There it was. The thin line overstepped into sobbing. Dewdrop finally broke. And it broke something in Rain as well. Pulling him against his chest, stroking through his long hair. Trying to pour every ounce of comfort and healing he had in himself into Dew. Squeezing his eyes shut as he cradled the ghoul in his embrace.

“You are. I allow you to. You need one permission to stop something. You hurt the person enough now, believe me.” Feeling two hands desperately grabbing into his shirts fabric. Holding him even tighter. “Do you believe me?”

A few seconds went by. Giving Dew some time to collect his thoughts. To just cry. Neither one breaking the silence. The fire ghouls tears mixing with the sound of the rain. Forming a symphony of grief.

“How do I know it's enough?”

“It was enough since it started. Life hurt you enough already. Hurt it back instead of copying its patterns.”

Rain has both arms wrapped around his friend. Rubbing his back slowly in a circular motion. Feeling his whole body rise and fall. The sobs rolling through him, making Dew shudder and tremble. Trying to get some shaky words out in between.

“It's different when I'm the one in control of the pain. When I can hurt. When I decide how much and deep. It gives me a sense of, well, control. I never know what life has for me and when it'll hit next. Here I know. I don't know where the line is. Right now I just… Kind of hope I won't stop, until I stop.” Mumbling against his companions chest. He rubbed his face against the crook of his neck. Almost crawling onto him, and he probably would if they didn’t sit on a brick wall.

“Stop now. Stop so you can stop again. Stop so you know you’re the one in control. Stop so life won’t push you back and take away your sense of control. And maybe you don’t know when life will hit again, but you also don’t know when it will stand at your door with an apology. And while it happens you can still make your own decisions. You are in control when you form words in such an unique way nobody else could and create a universe that never existed before. You are in control when you write. You control the sounds and accords, you control your moves when you play music. You are always in control when you create. You have so much more power than you realize, don’t let anything take this away from you Dew…”

They stayed like this for who knows how long. Holding each other. Tails entangled. Letting the silent of the night wash over them. It was peaceful. With everyone asleep there was no pressure. No expectations to do or be something. It was the dead of night Dew enjoyed the most.“I'm sorry I'm putting you through that.”

Rain wanted to smack him for that. But at the same time, the fire ghoul rarely apologized for anything. He really had the feeling he needed to say sorry for this? “Don’t worry. I said I’m here and I hope I can help. I’m sorry you have to go through this..”

The soft ghoul pulled back a little. Wanting to have a clear look at the one next to him. Cupping Dewdrops face with one hand and stroking his thumb over the tear stained cheek. Searching his eyes for something.

“I'm proud of you for opening up.” 

“Don't be.” Whispering almost.

“Why not?”

Leaning into the touch, Dew reciprocated the eye contact. Feeling safe looking into his ocean eyes. The calm lake in the middle of his stormy sea.

“It's not an achievement or anything. It's common sense to do that. I shouldn't be rewarded just because I talk.”

“You should be because you made the right decision. And I’m happy you did so. I know it’s not easy for you. We can work on this. Nobody is perfect, you have to acknowledge and accept your flaws and backholds to be able to work on them and improve.”

A quick kiss was placed on trembling lips.

“You just couldn’t heal because you kept pretending you weren’t hurt.”

[pagesofkenna]

exfriends post but this one isnt angst i swear

got a random like for a post that was an old conversation between me and some tumblr exfriends - who i havent talked about in this almost a decade (its actually just over a decade since we stopped talking, damn), but enough time has passed that i can say with full honesty i was approaching those relationships with a pretty unhealthy obsession, and when those feelings weren't returned i was too much of a coward to actually talk to my friends about how i was feeling and instead ghosted and blamed them for it

(and it might be kinda nice to reconcile? or at least talk about what happened? but i would never reach out, worried that it would just dredge up bad feelings in people who've long moved on)

anyways. got curious and looked at their blogs. turned out to be abandoned blogs, but they link to their new ones, so i can see they're still alive and active. neither of us seems to have ever accidentally followed each other or reblogged from each other

(thats one thing i think about, having never changed my URL from the moment i joined this site. i have at least four tumblr exfriends who i sometimes think about seeing one of my few 6-digit notes posts. do they? do they specifically avoid reblogging them? do they even notice?)

anyway. no real takeaway. thinking about old friends and old jealousies, and how those urls showing up in my notes don't even directly point to the real people anymore

[flowerfeast444]

most ardently || pedro pascal {pt 3}

pedro x oc

chapter summary: devon and pedro get some news

the pedro universe fanfic brain rot has gotten so bad. i’ve done nothing but daydream about him and write our names in my diary with hearts around it like i’m a child. hope you enjoy

series masterlist

For two months, I did absolutely nothing. I slept in late, laid in bed on my phone for way too long, smoked way too much weed, and watched a godawful amount of TV. I relished every second of it. Today marks the beginning of 'August Sun''s press tour, with an internal meeting with my PR team to kick it off. It's nothing I haven't done before, but with a movie this big; I'm sure something new will pop up, and I really hope it won't catch me off guard. There's nothing that I hate more than being unprepared.

So, my confusion quickly turned to disdain when I saw Pedro enter the front of the office building a few paces in front of me. I hadn't seen him since the night of his party- I hightailed it out as soon as I woke up the next morning, severely embarrassed by my drunk behavior and even more so by his drunk rejection.

I knew I'd have to be around him again, I just wish I had time to prepare for that day being today. He didn't notice me outside of the building, so I took advantage of being early by stopping just shy of the door to fix my hair in the reflection of the glass and draw in a few deep breaths. With my composure slightly more in tact, I entered and headed toward the meeting room.

Though I was early, I was the last to join. I hoped my cheeks weren't as flushed as I felt. They sat circled around a long table in the center of the room, each of their eyes shooting towards me at the sudden intrusion and I actively avoided acknowledging Pedro's presence entirely.

"Hi everyone, good to see you guys," I said as I took my place in the empty seat closest to the door.

Gene, my PR manager straightened up the papers in front of him then cleared his throat. "Hey, Devon, we were just about to get started."

For the first hour, they gave us the basic run down of how the next few months will go. We start the press tour in New York in a few days, where we'll stay for about two weeks before coming back to LA for another two weeks. They listed the people that would interview us, what we would be wearing, and how we should talk about to movie to best promote it.

I honestly spaced out for a while. It's not that I don't like my managers because I do; really, the PR side of being an actress always disheartened me, but there's never a way to avoid it without good reason. I know my managers are doing things with my best interest in mind. At least, I hope they are.

"Alright, so. I'm sure you both understand what to do in terms of advertising the movie and such," one of Pedro's managers said apprehensively, "We decided to also go a common route for this movie." She sent a pointed look to me and Pedro, her hands folded atop the papers in front of her. "To really sell your characters' romance, Pedro, Devon- you'll be in a relationship for the next few months."

Pedro sniggered. Awkward silence filled the room.

I felt like one of them were bound to break their hard facial expressions any second and laugh at us, like this was some sick prank. Do people even fake date in Hollywood anymore? Surely not.

"You're being serious?" Pedro asked.

"Well, none of us will confirm or deny the relationship to media, but you two will definitely need to tease audiences about a romance between you. Come on, you know this shit works. It always gets front page coverage."

Pedro hummed sarcastically, "So, what, we'll just hold hands and flirt every time we're in front of a camera?"

"Basically," Gene deadpanned, pushing his thick framed glasses up his nose. "We may ask you to do other things as well, but that's the gist of it."

"Speaking of, we will need you two to go to lunch together before the press tour in New York to stir up conversation. We've already gone over your schedules before you arrived, so it'll happen this Friday," Pedro's manager said.

"Cheyanne, can I talk to you outside for a quick second?" Pedro pointed to the door and stands before she even responded.

Once they left the room, the shock wore off, and I finally processed what they were telling us. I leaned back in my chair, crossing my arms with a dramatic sigh.

"Devon, any input? Or are you just going to whine and stomp your foot like a child?" one of the other PR managers said.

I tried not to snap at him, even though they felt they could speak to me that way when I couldn't even remember his name. He leaned forward to rest his elbows on the table and raised a bushy brow, impatiently waiting for my response. I sat up again to match his posture.

"Will my input make a difference?" I said evenly. 

"Maybe not directly, but we take your feelings into consideration."

"I don't know if you've met both of us, but we don't exactly scream 'in love'."

"So, you're doubting the believability of your characters, then?"

"No. Those are characters. We acted."

"Act again. Just until the movie leaves box offices."

He gathered his things together and organized them in front of him, signaling the end of our conversation. I chewed the skin on my lips to keep quiet. Pedro and Cheyanne returned, disrupting the increasingly tense energy in the room. The nameless PR manager continued explaining the order of scheduled events in Pedro and I'd relationship, but I stared out into the table, spacing out again. I traced the wood grain with my eyes left and right as far as it would go, matching the motion with slow breaths.

As soon as the meeting finished, I promptly dashed out of the room. I only made it to the elevators before I noticed Pedro hot on my heels. When he caught up to me, he didn't say anything at first; we stared at the closed elevator doors in silence. I could see his hand fidgeting out of the corner of my eye- a trait he only displayed when he would mess up his lines or not hit the right marks on time. The elevator finally reached our floor and welcomed the two of us before the doors could fully open.

It was only once they slid shut that he turned to face me, "Look, I know we didn't ask for this, but they're right. It'll promote the movie well and sell a lot of tickets. Isn't that what you want?"

I huffed. He shrugged his shoulders and let his hands slap against his thighs.

"This won't suck as much if you're not a brat about it," he spat.

I darted my eyes up to him and felt the fire inside me flare. The elevator landed on the ground floor, and without looking back, I said, "See you later, jackass."

[0shewrites0]

Hieeee!!!!

So, I'm not too sure if this is something that has been asked before, but I'm going to go ahead and ask because I'm in a bit of a bind here and as a fellow Lucas stan I would love to hear this from you.

How do you think Lucas would be with an MC who has ADHD? Because sometimes, you know, they think they're a little "too much" for a person to handle or not everyone would have the patience.

But also, everyone is different and not all behaviours and experiences are the same.

I've noticed there's a lot of misinformation and judgement around people who are diagnosed with it. Like assuming it's all about "Lacking focus or getting easily distracted" when sometimes it can be the opposite. Or linking it to intelligence, when I think it would be wrong to assume there's really a correlation between the two.

Hiiii! First of all, thank you so much for this ask and for approaching me with it, I feel so honoured 🥹

I had great fun thinking about it and also did some research, but I need to clarify that I don't know much about ADHD.

Like you said, I agree that ADHD is definitely not just about "lack of focus or being easily distracted". And it's definitely not okay to automatically link the diagnosis to intelligence or any type of IQ.

I'm thinking of Chloe Veitch in THTH, The Circle and Perfect Match, who certainly came across as a bit shallow at first even though she is so much more than that! It actually made me a bit angry that the producers portrayed her that way, because I follow her on Instagram and she's so sweet and genuine and not stupid at all - plus, low IQ and naivety are NOT THE SAME THING!!!!

ADHD can also mean that people diagnosed with this disorder can't sit still and are always doing something, they may even be very physically active, which can help them get rid of some of their pent-up energy. Others act before they think and generally talk a lot.

Overall, ADHD symptoms can be divided into 3 main areas, namely inattention, hyperactivity and impulsivity. It should be noted, however, that triggers such as lack of sleep, certain foods and especially stress can significantly influence the intensity of the symptoms.

Which brings us to the main topic: how would Lucas deal with an MC diagnosed with ADHD?

🤍 tbh I can imagine he finds her impulsiveness kind of cute and, at least at first, mistakes her interrupting conversations or acting before thinking for her being annoyed by the people around her or just being so high energy that she can't keep her thoughts to herself

🤍 depending on whether he meets her irl or in the Villa, there would obviously be differences as I think being part of the cast enforces a certain closeness

🤍 Lucas is a very complex person, so he would really be the last person to judge others who are just as complex or even more complex

🤍 also, I think he's had ADHD patients (mostly kids tho) who came to physiotherapy for minor or major injuries (especially when you think boys and the way they play sports? That’s very likely) - which means he'll recognise the signs quickly and as a physiotherapist he'll also have a basic knowledge of certain disorders, including ADHD, and I think that's defo a plus because he understands what it's about

🤍 of course he'd have to be a lot more patient than with someone else, but I don't think that would bother him too much - plus ADHD isn't Tourette's, for example. I say that because I just feel like he wouldn't be able to deal with someone with Tourette's, and that doesn't mean he looks down on people with that diagnosis, it's just that people need to understand how difficult and challenging such a disorder can be

🤍 once he finds out what specific triggers make her symptoms worse, he will do everything he can to help her avoid them. If it's stress, you can bet he'll be very aware of his moods and how he might affect her mood if he's had a rough day at work and is stressed af. So to avoid stressing her out too, he'd hit the gym first, get rid of all the negative energy and then come home

🤍 he would generally let her talk as much as she wants, while making an effort to listen to her and join in the conversation. I imagine that people with ADHD often feel that other people withdraw from conversations when it gets too much for them, and I imagine that can be very hurtful. Idk I think I would be hurt, especially because there's nothing I can do about it. So he would try to make her feel like she's not too much for him

🤍 if she happens to make careless mistakes or forgets to do certain tasks, I can imagine him trying hard not to let on how much that can annoy him. But because he knows that she doesn't do it on purpose, and especially not with malicious intent, he can learn to deal with it better. And in turn, I could even imagine him becoming a bit more relaxed, which would also lower his personal stress level 👀👀

🤍 and the reassurance she would get - OFF THE CHARTS! He would tell her several times a day that she is perfect just the way she is and that she will never be too much in his eyes 🥹

🤍 if people made fun of her (even if they had no bad intentions), he would be so damn protective and shut them right up, he wouldn't tolerate bs! Other’s might think he's a bit extreme for that, but then again extreme is Lucas's middle name 🙏🏽

[rigelmejo]

A big reason I tend to suggest 1-2 hours a day if you're studying a language (on average - so you could study 2 hours for a few days then skip some days, or 1.5 hours and skip some days), is because it's a good goal to aim for in order to see significant progress in skills every 3-6 months. And if you don't see significant progess after several months, you may fear you're not making any progress (even though you are - it's just too small to see a difference yet), and may become demotivated and give up.

For example: for learning a language similar to your own, like an english speaker studying spanish, they can make Great progress every 3 months or so if they study 1 hour a day (on average). Such as going from beginner material, to lower intermediate, to perhaps middle intermediate or easier native speaker materials (like kids cartoons) within a year. If they study 2 hours, they can make Excellent progress, seeing a noticeable ability to start studying more difficult things every 1-2 months.

And with a language very unlike one you know, like an english speaker studying japanese, 1 hour of study a day (on average) could get them from beginner material to upper beginner or lower intermediate material after a year. So they could go from no ability, to reading graded readers (Tadoku Graded Readers perhaps) and listening to beginner learner podcasts (like Nihongo Con Teppei) and perhaps Comprehensible Japanese low intermediate youtube videos. That's great progress for japanese, if you speak english and knew no cognates no kanji no hiragana or katakana and no grammar initially. If you study 2 hours a day, you could perhaps get to upper beginner or lower intermediate in 6 months or 6-10 months (such as those people who do anki 1 hour and then childrens cartoons or Comprehensible Japanese youtube or Nihongo Con Teppei 1 hour/.5 hour and study grammar .5 hour a day). The people cram studying a bunch of anki and immersing (or using learner content with a lot of word density) are probably studying at least 2 hours a day on average. The ones seeing noticeable progress of reading graded readers in 3-6 months, and manga with word lookups in 1 year, probably are.

Now as you can see... a language very unlike one you kniw will take longer... but at least with 1-2 hours a day of study you'll see some progress you can Clearly Notice by the end of the year, or halfway through. You'll see enough progress to know if your study methods and study plan is working for you, or not, and how much study hours per day equals progress in the amount of months you want to see progress by.

If you've already studied a language, 1-2 hours of study a day can create quite excellent progress. You already know your study plan, what approaches work best for you, what your short and long term goals are and what to look for to indicate progress made (you notice when graded reading ability goes up by 200 words known, or when listening you get to a point of less-exhaustion or main-idea grasping or some-detail catching or isolated words versus phrases versus full sentences comprehended, when one domain like conversations about hobbies increases in how much you can say or understand even if another domain like shopping hasnt yet) or progress stalling (such as noticing you stopped learning new words for 4 months, or noticing you're avoiding studying completely if you do X activity). So you already avoid doing a lot of activities that waste your study time, you quickly notice when you havent studied anything new in X days or when you've avoided practicing a skill for X days. So you can minimize time spent doing less productive things, and you dont spend much time "learning how to study" or "learning what to study."

You can make potentially up to twice as much progress as the person who's never self studied a language. I made great progress in Chinese in 3 months, 6 months, 9 months, 1 year, and was making progress in as many days as French - in French I studied 1 hour daily, and in Chinese I studied 2 hours daily (on average). Despite Japanese taking 4 times longer than French when I studied Japanese 1 hour daily (like French), and still 2 times longer when I studied japanese for 2 hours daily (so if French studying 1 hour daily then graded readers took 3+ months to begin reading, then in Japanese studying 2 hours daily then graded readers took 6+ months). I think I saw Chinese skills improve faster because I knew How I studied best, and knew what to start studying next for X skills. It still took longer than French per day to hit the progress milestones, and without prior study in languages it would've taken perhaps 6 months to a year to start Mandarin Companion graded readers. But at LEAST 1-2 hours would've gotten me to the point of starting graded readers by the end of the year - noticeable clear progress. That I could measure (based on ability to read graded reader on day 10 of study versus day 365).

I just feel like... when study time gets low like 30 minutes per day (on average) or less, progress you can clearly check (like ability to understand a graded reader, or a learner podcast in only the target language, or an episode of a show, or ability to talk for 5 minutes about X topic without rehearsing) may not show Significant changes for a year or more. (With a language like your own... like english to French or Spanish, you may see noticeable progress in a year after 30 minutes daily study but... it'll be so much slower than if you'd just put in more daily study time). And for languages less like ones you know, I think a LOT of learners put in 15-30 minutes a day (duolingo japanese learners, or pimsleur 1 lesson every few days learners, or 15 minute anki learners) and then after a year get really frustrated they cannot see if they've learned much of anything!

(I should know, I was that learner spending 15-30 minutes on japanese for a year lol... in reality of course I'd made SOME progress... in a year I learned hiragana and katakana, a few dozen kanji, masu basic conjugations like masu masen demashita demasen, but I couldn't have a full unrehearsed conversation about my hobbies or read a easy graded reader and I still didh't understand N5 level questions or any questions in general if written in japanese... it took me 2 years studying like that at 30 minutes a day, THEN cram studying 2-3 hours a day for 6 months, to finally be able to read key words in an instagram post or manga title or a beginner graded reader. 2 years of 30 minutes a day did make Some improvements, I'm sure, probably mostly in comfort with seeing hiragana katakana and some verb and adjective endings... but it was too little time spent studying to see Noticeable improvement in any skills. I also wasted a ton of those daily 30 minutes not knowing what to study or restudying old material.)

[rotationalsymmetry]

About GET: it might not be completely impossible to do it without making CFS worse, but it's really, really hard and the consequences of making things worse are very high. Part of that is PEM is frequently delayed by a day or two. Part of it is...as far as I know there isn't actual data on this, but anecdotally: people can build up sort of reserves by not overextending over time, and be resistant to crashing the next time they overdo it, but if you don't have those "reserves" because you're always near your limit, you crash harder/for longer. And crashes aren't always temporary, people have reported not getting back to their previous baseline after a bad crash.

And part of it is, most people will listen to their doctor over their body, and if their body is telling them "I can't handle this" and their doctor is telling them they can, they'll push themselves through the discomfort. Which is often the right thing to do. But generally not with CFS.

Doctors tend to be motivated to find cures/teeatments more than avoiding making things worse. It's a known problem. And tbf often their patients are very anxious about getting better and not necessarily thinking about the possibility that "treatment" might make things worse, especially if they've only recently gotten sick (like in the last 6-12 months) and haven't had time to adjust to a new normal.

Physical activity tends to be the most obvious trigger for PEM but is not the only one. It can also be triggered by socializing, sensory overload (fun when it's both, like trying to follow a conversation in a noisy restaurant), cognitive activity, or -- this is significant but hard to measure -- strong emotions/stress. Not just "bad" strong emotions either, being excited can both make you run through spoons faster and make you less likely to notice early warning signs.

Ways to adjust your life to reduce crashes:

1. Figured out your energy envelope (spoon budget, amount of cell phone charge, spell slots) and stay inside it: people tend to overestimate how much they can do when they have CFS, so tracking what you do over two weeks and then averaging it can tell you what's sustainable (not just what you can do on a good day if you don't mind triggering bad days.) (Yeah, this isn't always possible: sometimes people can't afford to stop working or have family obligations they can't avoid or taking care of personal needs uses consistently more spoons than they have.)

2. Rest before you are tired, at least once a day for 10 minutes, but many people do a longer rest, more frequent rests, or both. (By "rest" I mean lying down as close to doing nothing as you can manage; I tend to listen to a guided meditation or to music. Some people fall asleep, this is OK for some people and for others it's better not to because it can disrupt sleep.)

3. Break up things into chunks with sitting-down rests in between, or do things differently (eg sitting down in the shower.)

4. Getting other people to do things or doing less.

5. Noticing patterns: often people with CFS, when they get their symptoms under control enough that they're not crashing frequently, notice that they can tolerate more activity in the morning than the evening, or vice versa.

6. Making plans for special occasions and getting extra rest before, after, and during when possible. For instance, if I want to go somewhere for my birthday and I know it'll use more than my average day number of spoons, I can use fewer spoons two days before and two days after, and likely will be fine. Also, get extra rest during and after being sick (I mean, sick on top of the CFS.)

7. About exercise: exercise is risky for people with CFS, because it can burn through a lot of spoons and trigger PEM, again sometimes two days after the trigger. (Especially exercise that elevates the heart rate significantly, like jogging or climbing stairs.) But, not exercusing causes problems: muscle weakness, back or joint pains, stiffness/loss of mobility from lack of stretching, negative effects on mood/stress accumulation, etc. It is generally worth looking for sustainable amounts/types of exercise: I have PT for my back that I can do lying down, and can tolerate about 2 miles of walking on level ground on a good day if I sit down and rest a few times. And I do a fair bit of yoga, of the stretchy floor poses and restorative poses variety. (I'm not doing sun salutations.) In theory it is possible to increase this amount gradually over time, but that's risky (if you're careful enough it might be fine for months before you overdo it, speaking from expeience) so I recommend finding an amount/type of exercise that works and just sticking to it. It's not necessarily going to be what a healthy person would consider exercise, and that's OK. Also, there are approaches to stress relief that do not rely on physical activity, such as deep breathing and progressive muscular relaxation, and there's ways of getting into your body like body scans and self-massage (or getting someone else to massage you if you can swing it) or hot baths.

8. When figuring out what's sustainable, remember that chores and errands are also physical activity and use spoons (and have more or less the same benefits as exercising for the sake of exercising -- it probably doesn't make sense to walk for fun in place of walking to the convenience store, but it might make sense to do specific strength exercises instead of standing to wash the dishes or vacuuming), so don't track them separately from the things you do solely as exercise.

Full Transcript at the link; 3-minute listen.

Quote:

By taking biopsies from long COVID patients before and after exercising, scientists in the Netherlands constructed a startling picture of widespread abnormalities in muscle tissue that may explain this severe reaction to physical activity.

Among the most striking findings were clear signs that the cellular power plants, the mitochondria, are compromised and the tissue starved for energy.

"We saw this immediately and it's very profound," says Braeden Charlton, one of the study's authors at Vrije University in Amsterdam.

The tissue samples from long COVID patients also revealed severe muscle damage, a disturbed immune response, and a buildup of microclots.

"This is a very real disease," says Charlton. "We see this at basically every parameter that we measure."

[slimeywooper]

Sinking Despair

Chapter 3 - Difficult Conversations Part 1

CW: emotional manipulation

It's been a couple months since you talked with Nobori. You haven't been afforded an opportunity to see him again. Kudari had become unbearable just after your meeting with his brother, constantly attached at the hip to you, wanting to do everything for you, even cutting the food you were eating. For these past few weeks, he has agreed to escort you around the lab, so you can get some exercise. Nobori, however, was off-limits. During these walks, Kudari has you hold on to his arm, deciding where he wants you to go, and purposefully steering you away from Nobori's room. Lately, he has finally calmed down about guarding the door at night, returning to sleep next to you. The meeting you want to have with Nobori needs to happen within the next few days, as your belly has grown larger, the result being becoming fatigued from barely any activity. Pretty soon, you won't have the energy to leave the room, and Kudari will likely become even more protective.

You're returning from the bathroom when an idea hits. Kudari is currently doing something with his computer, attention fixed on the screen. He's been that way for about 20 minutes, not making much noise. Now would probably be the best time to try and leave to see Nobori again. You walk over and open his wardrobe, unclipping the name badge on your lab coat. Making a conscious decision not to mention his brother, you say, "I'm gonna head to the cafeteria and grab something to eat," as casually as possible, hoping to get to the door while he's distracted.

His head snaps up, exclaiming, "I'll use your phone to page Nobori. He can bring you whatever you need."

"No, I want to go myself. I haven't left the lab in a long while, I'm starting to go crazy." You take a step toward the door before he springs up and rushes to you, wrapping his arms around your shoulders.

"B-but you can't leave! There are people who might hurt you! Or use you!" he argues, panic rising. "I will take you out for a walk and we can have Nobori get you what you want to eat."

Attempting to calm him down, you explain, "I really don't want to stay in the lab today. And I'm sure Nobori is tired of being an errand boy. I'll be fine, Kudari. I'm just walking to the Plasma headquarters cafeteria, not leaving the building. No one in here is going to mess with me. In fact, I'm willing to bet I'll be avoided."

Eyes filling with fear, he doesn't let up, "What if you fall? Or… or something else unexpected happens? I can't let you leave! What kind of mate would I be if I didn't take care of you?"

Turning your head to meet his gaze, you assure him, "You have been taking care of me. I'm doing fine, physically at least. No one is going to think you are doing a bad job by letting me get my own food. Now, please let me go. The sooner I leave, the sooner I can return." He's giving you a determined look, and you notice small amounts of venom pooling at the tips of his fangs. Thinking quickly, you scold him, "And don't you even think about biting me! We don't know the effect your venom may have on the babies. They've already been subjected to it early on in my pregnancy, and even though there isn't any evidence they have been negatively impacted by it, I don't want to leave it up to chance."

The arms holding you relent, retreating back to cradle himself. Kudari silently slinks to his web and sits, rocking back and forth. He now wears a devastated visage, and as you walk out the door, you hear him begin to weep. Ignoring how terrible you feel, you continue on your journey to the elevator. Throughout the lab, a few different researchers and assistants stop you along the way to ask how you are doing. It appears you really are the latest experiment, and most everyone in the laboratory is excited to see how you are progressing. In the reception area, Marcello looks surprised to see you, and you offer him a few pleasantries before getting on the elevator to Plasma headquarters. The ride up gets you that much closer to the cafeteria. After a short walk, you arrive at your destination, and begin to pick out everything that looks good. When you've finished making your selections, you place them on the counter and give your name to the grunt manning it so he can put the cost on your tab.

Kneading his fingers nervously, he comments, "Ah, so you're (Y/N)? Nobori usually gets your meals, right? He's mentioned you in passing. Don't worry about the charge. We've been told not to interfere with anything the science division is doing. I'll put a note in the system to have the cost sent to the financial department."

"Oh… right… thanks," you reply. You collect your things and leave the cafeteria, trying not to look at the grunt again. God only knows what Nobori told him. It probably wasn't anything detailed, but perhaps there were some vaguely threatening inferences behind his words. The elevator is reached again and you press the button to call it. When the doors open, you're greeted with an awful sight.

Colress steps out, making eye contact with you. "(Y/N), it's been a while. In fact, you should probably be going to the doctor for a check up soon." He pulls you to the side before you can slip past him and enter the elevator. "I'm surprised to see you out and about, though you appear to be doing well."

"Yes, I'm fine, all things considered. I was just getting something to eat," you state, raising the items in question.

"I see. Well, considering the circumstances, you'd do well to stay put. If you were to go missing, I would have no choice but to send Nobori to find you." Colress smiles and nods his head. The implication he's making on what would happen if you potentially tried to run is not lost on you. "In the event you are having any cravings, I'm sure he would gladly go and get anything you wanted so you wouldn't feel compelled to leave Kudari's room." His face shifts to one of disdain as he remarks, "Nobori's even refusing to work because he wants to stay here in case you need him."

You glare at him before responding, "I left the room because I'm going crazy in there. I only wanted to step out so I could get some fresh air, I'm heading back now." That's only half of your reason for leaving, but it's none of Colress' business, and you really don't want him to get involved in the volatile situation between the hybrids. Though finding out Nobori is taking a stand against Colress is welcome news, it doesn't ease your anger at him for what he did.

"Of course. In that case, you should be on your way. I'll be sure to make a follow-up appointment with the doctor. I've only been holding off because Kudari is so difficult to deal with, but it's getting to the point it can't be avoided. Have a pleasant day." He goes to continue walking, but you stop him.

"Wait…" you say, touching his shoulder.

Slowly turning to face you again, he flatly inquires, "What?"

It's a question that has been taunting you since you first awoke to this nightmare, but you held off on asking Kudari to avoid any offence to him. "You asked me after my initial doctor's visit if I had any questions. I wasn't awake for the ultrasound, so I was wondering… w-what do they look like? Are they hybrids like Kudari?"

It's a question that has been taunting you since you first awoke to this nightmare, but you held off on asking Kudari to avoid any offence to him. "You asked me after my initial doctor's visit if I had any questions. I wasn't awake for the ultrasound, so I was wondering… w-what do they look like? Are they hybrids like Kudari?"

He looks you up and down, before answering, "Let me shed some light on what I am able to. As you already know, Kudari is a clone of that dreadful Subway Boss, Emmet. The one with the hideous smile. That's where Kudari gets his from. Anyway" —he shakes his head, getting back on topic— "technically, yes, these are his children, since he is the one that… copulated with you. But genetically, they are Emmet's. As was previously stated, designing Kudari to be able to produce offspring was all theoretical. I used Emmet's DNA not only for him, but his human gametes, as well. So, bearing that in mind, if you ever decide to stroll out of here with the babies someday, people might notice how familiar they look. We certainly wouldn't want to give our dear Subway Bosses heart attacks if they were to see them. Then again…" he holds a finger to his chin in thought, contemplating the probability of Ingo and Emmet keeling over from shock.

The last part of his commentary goes right over your head, the first part being what your mind focuses on, a weight lifted from your chest at the news. "But, does that also mean that they will have normal lifespans, unlike Nobori and Kudari?" you add.

His demeanor shifts, scowling at you as he replies, "Yes, that's correct. Barring any genetic abnormality Emmet may be afflicted with, they will not have the same issues as the hybrids because they aren't clones, they are akin to direct progeny."

A single nod is given in acknowledgement. "Thank you. I'll be heading back now." Colress walks off without saying another word, and you press the button for the elevator again. On the return trip, you're filled with confidence as you make your way back to the lowest floor. Not only will your children look like regular humans, they will also have normal lifespans. You hold back the tears of relief. This is the best outcome you could have hoped for. If the occasion ever presents itself, you can grab them and run, not worrying if they will be judged for their looks.

The elevator comes to a halt, releasing you to the third floor lab. Nobori's room is your next stop, where hopefully you will get more answers, though they likely won't be anything you want to hear. Walking to your destination, the door opens as you draw near.