#thank you for the random question kind tumbleweed!

[ziipzeepzop-eez]

What would you do if your hair grew a centimeter a minute?

Keep a healthy pair of scissors on me! And a spritz bottle with a magical elixir of conditioner and rosemary oil. Hair charities on speed dial! Collect it all in a fashionable hair bonnet on busier days and lob it all off at the end of the day! The quickest but most thorough wash days, ever.

Realistically speaking, this'd probably be quite a pain to live with on most days 🥹 Imagine going to sleep with a completely cropped/close shaved head and waking up with it completely down your back!!

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

just kidding, m | jjk

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

summary: There was a time where you would be out partying, getting drunk and fucking up a storm. But you’re different now. You stopped drinking. Now you’re the one waiting for Kim Taehyung to call so you can pick him up from his drunken adventures. There’s just one small hitch –  Taehyung’s roommate, Jeon Jungkook, offering you a mojito.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language, (a little) alcohol consumption; slight crack at the start lol; smut (fem reader, thigh riding, handjob, fingering, m-receiving oral); non-idol!AU; Jungkook is a tempter and he knows it; noona!reader and you’re a nympho, whoops

--

“I don’t drink.”

“Oh.”

Jeon Jungkook blinked at you, holding out the mojito.

“But… I made it.”

“That’s true. But I don’t drink.”

He pursed his lips and frowned.

“You sure?” he asked, putting on his best puppy eyes.

“Yup.”

“I promise it’s not poisoned.”

You laughed, jangling your car keys. “I have to drive later. But also, I do not drink.”

He nodded and took a sip of it. “It’s really smooth.”

You smiled and went back to your phone. Kim Taehyung was supposed to text you in a bit so you could pick him up from a party. In exchange, he let you borrow his computer to play League of Legends since he had a better PC and internet than your apartment. There was an event going on, so you had to grind games. You were getting tired though and you didn’t want to be in the middle of a game when Taehyung called half-drunk.

Now you were sitting on the couch, as Taehyung’s roommate Jeon Jungkook stood there and took sips from his mojito. Just standing there, thinking. He did that a lot, drifting off into space randomly. You figured it was some sort of weird habit. He was wearing a striped black-and-white turtleneck and black leather pants. His cheek-length black hair was pinned back on the right side, revealing his undercut. It seemed like he was going out, but he had spent all night in his room before going to the kitchen and then appearing with said mojito. Why? Honestly, you had no idea.

“Are you going somewhere?” you asked, looking up at him from the sofa.

Jungkook snapped out of it and stared at you. “What?”

You pointed to his outfit. “You’re dressed all fancy.”

Jungkook looked down. “Oh. Uh, not really. I was going to go with Taehyung tonight but I had an assignment to finish that I forgot about. I never changed.”

You nodded. Hm.

Okay.

“How do you know Taehyung-ssi, anyway, noona?”

“I sucked his dick once.”

Jungkook nearly dropped his glass.

You calmly scrolled through Instagram. You flickered your eyes up to see Jungkook’s shocked face and his red ears.

“I’m kidding,” you chuckled, seeing Jungkook blink rapidly to collect himself. “I used to be the Biology lab TA. He’d ask for help a lot. And he plays League, so we ended up hanging out. Also, I have a car.”

“R-right…” Jungkook crab-walked to the armchair next to the sofa and sat down, placing his drink on the table. “Right, yeah.”

You two sat in silence, rather comfortable for you, rather awkward for Jungkook. You didn’t come here that often, but it was always only to borrow Taehyung’s internet or to pick him up from random outings. It was never a big deal to you, as Taehyung was always nice and bought you food later as thanks. As for Jeon Jungkook, he was just kind of there. Introverted, quiet, sometimes piped up to inquire about something when he was curious. You weren’t exactly talkative, but he didn’t bother you either, so it was never too memorable.

“What’s on your shirt?” Jungkook asked, tilted his head.

You lifted your phone to give him a better look at the nine-pointed star and bleeding goat head of your long-sleeved black shirt. “It’s an American metal band.”

Jungkook blinked at you. “You listen to metal?”

You put your phone back down. “Yup.”

You suddenly remembered your legs were wide open because you were wearing your black velvet pants and they were hot as fuck. Wearing these was a mistake. You closed your legs and settled them on the couch. They had been expensive though, so you felt like you had to wear them to get your money’s worth. Damnnit. Why did you buy these again?

“Why don’t you drink alcohol?”

You closed Instagram and opened Twitter. “Because I become sexually uninhibited.”

Silence.

You looked up to see Jungkook trying to process what you said, imaginary question marks popping on top of his head.

“It means I fuck anything with legs, Jungkook.”

His brown doe eyes went wide. “W-what?”

You shrugged. “Yeah, you know, one time one of my friends caught me in a room with my clothes off blowing three guys at once, so I figured, hmm, maybe I shouldn’t drink anymore. That ever happen to you?” you added nonchalantly.

Jungkook shook his head so quickly his long black hair floated in the air.

“Huh. Well, me neither,” you chuckled. “I was just kidding.”

Jungkook looked like a mother who was trying to process all of their child’s sex escapades. “That’s good then. Whew,” he remarked with an awkward laugh. He took another long, hasty sip of his mojito.

“It was four guys.”

Jungkook nearly choked. He snapped his head up to see your shoulders shaking as you tried to contain your snickering, hiding behind your phone. He glared at you, clearing his throat sharply.

“You shouldn’t lie, noona,” he muttered, frowning.

You lowered your phone and straightened. “I was laughing at your expression. I wasn’t lying.”

He narrowed his eyes, disbelieving. “About what part?” he said warily.

“I do not drink because I will literally try to fuck anyone in my immediate vicinity when I’m drunk,” you stated in a matter-of-fact tone. “You can imagine it’s not very good for my sexual health or my social life as I stumble out of a party covered in cum of four guys I don’t know.”

Jungkook was in the middle of drinking his mojito and swallowed so hard the entire drink disappeared into his throat.

“What?” he wheezed out, slamming his chest with his fist.

You put your hands up. “It happens.”

Jungkook looked as if he as going to pass out, either from the image or from drinking too fast. You picked up your phone again and set Taehyung a text.

Are you dead? I think I killed your roommate.

Jungkook shook his head vigorously. “You must be joking.”

“Nope, that actually happened. Ask Taehyung.”

Jungkook looked taken aback. “What?” he said again in the same panicked tone.

“I told you someone found me.”

You swore that if this was the Wild West, a tumbleweed would have drifted by. Jungkook looked as white as a sheet. You calmly plucked the glass from his hand since it seemed like he was rapidly losing focus of his surroundings.

“How… That’s so dangerous!” Jungkook sputtered, seemingly coming back to life.

“Indeed, which is why I am sitting here right now and not piss drunk in a random bedroom in someone’s house,” you replied calmly, waiting for Taehyung to text you back. “See, this is why you don’t offer me a drink because then I would try to fuck you. You’ve been spared.”

Jungkook gave you a very strange expression and suddenly crossed one leg over the other. You rubbed your eyes. Hopefully Taehyung didn’t stay out too late. You were getting sleepy.

“Well, you still have to be attracted to them, r-right?” Jungkook commented, looking away and biting his knuckle.

You didn’t look up from your phone.

“I suppose. I don’t really have a type, and when you’re drunk you only look at the parts you’re attracted to anyway and forget about anything else,” you responded, chuckling at a cute cat picture. “At least you’re attractive, so if I met you at a party drunk, I’d fuck you, easy.” Owls could sit cross-legged? What? You squinted at the meme, trying to see if it was Photoshopped.

Silence. Absolute fucking silence.

You decided that it seemed unlikely the photo of this sitting owl was Photoshopped and lifted your head to see Jungkook staring at you like you had three heads.

“What?”

“You’re…” Jungkook chuckled awkwardly. “Just kidding, right?”

You blinked. “What? About you being attractive?” You pointed to him. “No. I’m not. You’re handsome, Jungkook.”

You saw his ears turning red once again. “Ahaha… but you wouldn’t fuck me, right?”

“I would.”

A crow cawed loudly outside the window.

Jungkook wasn’t blinking. Was he dead? Was Taehyung going to come home to a statue of a roommate? You tilted your head and waved your hand in front of his face. Jungkook didn’t move. Maybe he went into shock.

“Jungkook? You alive in there?” you asked, waving your hand some more.

He blinked rapidly, startling you. “I… I…”

Okay, now he was scaring you. Was he broken? Did Taehyung have an A.I. for a roommate and not tell you? Taehyung, please come home and oil your Jungkook, you thought dryly as you watched him scrunch up his nose, as if he was trying to stretch his face muscles out.

“You surprised me,” Jungkook sputtered, nervously rubbing the back of his head. “I just… there’s no way…”

“That I would fuck you?” you replied, completely chill. He turned even redder. You placed a hand on your cheek and rested your elbow on the couch. “Why not? You’re cute, have nice fashion sense, seem like a decent guy.”

Yeah, Jungkook was definitely breaking down because he did not seem to know how to form proper sentences anymore. He was like a fish out of water, opening and closing his mouth awkwardly.

“But, I couldn’t though.” You cut off his attempts to fathom a thought. He stiffened, his doe eyes shifting to you. “Because you’re Taehyung’s friend, not a stranger. I try not to mess up my friendships, you know?”

He swallowed thickly. “R-right.”

You removed your hand from your cheek and cracked your neck, leaning back against the plushy couch arm. Sheesh, where was Taehyung? You could have played an entire ARAM in the time he was messing about. He told you around this time, but perhaps he had run late. Oh well.

“But… if he doesn’t know…”

Hold up.

You lifted your head, slowly, slowly to Jungkook’s nervous stare and shifty eyes.

“I mean, if Taehyung doesn’t know… doesn’t count, right?” he asked innocently.

His dark hair obscured part of his angular face, pink lips slightly parted. His eyes were watching your every move like a hawk, brows furrowed slightly. The living room light reflected off his glowing tan skin and the glossiness of his lips.

If you don’t stop looking like that, you thought. There’s going to be consequences.

“Let’s not tread dangerous waters here,” you said quietly.

One of his dark eyebrows quirked upwards ever-so-slightly. “How is it dangerous? Taehyung’s going to call you when he needs to be picked up. He’s going to see the inside of your car before he even sees the inside of this apartment.”

Uh oh. Now your heart was beating fast. Fuck. Fuckity fuck. Alcohol made you sexually uninhibited because you really, really enjoyed having sex. Far too much. But you couldn’t go through life fucking everything with legs (or without them – to be honest, it wasn’t that strict of a requirement) because, hello, societal standards? Social appropriateness of maybe not fucking the cashier at your favorite coffee spot or your friend’s roommate in his apartment? You know, you had to be a productive human being and not a damn nympho. Wasn’t like you were getting paid for it.

Jungkook lifted his leg from his knee and spread them, tilting his chin upward.

Oh ho?

Well, now you knew why Jungkook crossed his legs, because a very obvious bulge was struggling in his leather pants. Where was embarrassed Jungkook? Shocked Jungkook? The Jungkook that was stunned at your crude words and straightforward manner?

Give him back. This is too much.

Perhaps you had been a little too frank for once – ah, who are you kidding, you’d probably been in this situation before.

Jungkook’s right hand slid up his thigh, long fingers with tiny, delicate tattoos, tracing the contours of his muscular quads. You tilted your head as he danced his fingers along his inner thigh before spreading them over his bulge and cupping it, stroking slowly through the thick fabric as he licked his lips.

“I am not drunk enough for this,” you muttered.

“Are you scared?” Jungkook asked softly, still palming himself through his pants. “Scared Taehyungie will be mad at you?” You felt a muscle in your face twitch. It seemed that he knew he was getting the better of you, because his voice was dropping low, sultry. You did not like being challenged, because well… you always tried to rise to the challenge. To your detriment, sometimes.

“Is Taehyung the boss of you?”

Fuck.

You snapped your head at him, narrowing your eyes.

“No one is the boss of me,” you replied icily.

Jungkook softened his features, laying his head back in the armchair. His hair curled around his cheek as his breathing deepened. His teeth caught his lower lip and gradually released it, the pink flesh popping back into place. The tiny mole under his lip trembled.

“Then do whatever you want, noona.”

Your eyes narrowed to slits, nails digging into your palms.

“What’s gotten into you?”

Jungkook’s voice was a smokey wisp, soaking into you.

“Just imagining you on your knees, naked, covered in cum…” He groaned, rocking his hips into his hand. “Sounds so fucking hot.”

Well. It had been. It was fucking hot, it made you wet just thinking about that night. It had felt amazing as the cum dripped down your skin, covering you, making you filthy with your sinful lust, so delicious and raw and dirty that right now you sat up, spreading your legs again because the space between your thighs was too fucking hot, too fucking much. Stupid velvet pants.

You got up from the couch, eyes still on Jungkook, his pupils dilating, tongue tracing the outskirts of his lips. He leaned his head back a little and moaned your name, long and lustful, eyelids fluttering. His dark hair brushed against his brows.

“Stop,” you breathed, reaching down to push your shirt up. Your fingers hovered over the button of your pants. Too hot. Too fucking hot. “You’re doing this on purpose. You’re tempting me.”

The side of his lips curved upward into a lazy smirk.

“I am.”

You placed your phone on the coffee table. The sound was on. Taehyung still hadn’t texted you. You would hear it vibrate against the wood. You took another step, unbuttoning your pants. Fuck. Why was Jungkook so sexy? You could resist if he wasn’t so damn hot.

“Don’t want you to think…” You swallowed; throat tight. “Don’t want you to think I’m treating you like a sex object.” The zipper of your pants slid down. “Because you seem like a nice guy.”

He smiled, undoing his pants too, sighing as the zipper freed his bulge.

“If I was your sex object…” Jungkook purred, pushing his tight leather pants down, down. “Even for only a little bit, I wouldn’t hold it against you, noona.”

Now your velvet pants were being peeled off your hips, leaving you in your seamless black panties. Oh, fuck, his thighs. Muscular and powerful, skin so pretty you wanted to touch. His eyes slid down your body.

“Holy shit, your thighs.”

Seemed like you both had the same idea. You climbed onto Jungkook’s lap, straddling one of his thighs. Now he was close to you, smelling like fresh linen, presence so warm and powerful you were being drugged by it. Your hands slid onto his shoulders, gripping them finger by finger, breathing hard as he tensed them. Slowly, you sat down on his left thigh, gasping as your soaked, clothed heat touched him. He grinned, flexing it under you. His own hand slid up your thigh, squeezing it, watching his fingers sink into your softness.

“Now, this,” Jungkook breathed, staring into your eyes. “This is a sexy body.”

Your heart was beating so fast, so fast. He watched you closely, eyes so dark that you felt like you were drowning in them. You rolled your hips into his thigh, hissing as you became wetter. He flexed the muscle under you, hard and unforgiving, sitting back and letting you rub yourself against it. You smeared your juices into his skin, stimulating your clit, inhaling sharply. Jungkook was still clutching your thigh, his large hand pressed into you.

“Is that enough for you?” he drawled, his other hand sliding up to land on your other thigh. “Is that all you want from me?”

Your eyes flickered to his playful, daring brown orbs.

“There’s no time…” you muttered.

“Take off your panties,” he nudged.

He placed his hands on your waist and lifted you up. You bit your lip, uncertain.

“Noona, I want you to feel good.”

He slipped one finger on the side of your black panties and pushed down. You took the other side and pushed them down, raising your legs to pull out one and then the other. Your panties fluttered to the ground. Jungkook’s gaze on you as you lowered again, bare and dripping, onto his thick thigh. Oh, holy hell. He tensed it and pressed your hips down, grinding his thigh onto your slopping wet pussy. You moaned, grasping his forearms through his turtleneck, feeling the strength in them, the hardness. You closed your eyes, humping his thigh, lost in bliss.

“Can you cum like that?” You felt Jungkook lean forward, lips brushing against yours. “Cum you cum just by rubbing yourself on me?”

Tiny, rigid nods. “If you... kiss me.”

He groaned as he felt your opening tense on his skin. “I thought you would never ask.”

And then his lips were on yours, soft, delicate. Sweet, erotic kisses contrasting with how hard you were fucking his leg, his tongue dancing in the periphery of yours, dodging you playfully as you whined, clutching him tighter. He pressed you down harder, sliding his tongue into your mouth. You shuddered, wetness pooling at his kisses, your core tightening as he whispered your name into your lips.

“Your body is so fucking delectable,” his murmured. “So sexy, it’s sinful.”

You clenched your jaw as you basically rammed your hips into his thigh, slippery and hard, your clit throbbing with need.

“Cum for me, noona.” You could feel his lips form the words as he kissed you, awe in his voice. “Cum on my thigh.”

You dug your nails into his clothed arms and shut your eyes, moaning his name, feeling the strings inside you snap, pleasure waterfalling into you as you came, squelching onto his skin, so viscous and thick that it added to the lubrication, your swollen clit throbbing. Your eyelids fluttered as his hands pressed you down, grinding your hips into his muscle so you could ride your high, extend it until you were melting, hands falling from his arms. He cradled you gently, your chest heaving with effort.

“J-Jungkook…”

“Mhm?”

You cracked your eyes open. “Has my phone made any noise?”

He shook his head. His dark hair covered part of his left eye. “No, noona.”

“Ah.”

Maybe Taehyung was getting laid. Good for him.

“I’m going to touch you now,” you stated. To the point.

Jungkook grinned.

You reached down to his black boxer briefs and yanked them down, freeing his cock and balls. He lifted his legs a little and you pushed them down, but he took your hand, placing it on his semi-hard cock. He moaned as your fingers wrapped around him.

“Do you want to take it off?” you asked quietly, referring to his underwear.

“No,” Jungkook replied tightly, cupping his hand around yours, using your hand to stroke himself a few times. “I can’t wait anymore.”

You nudged his hand aside and began your pace. He leaned back, gasping softly. Your grip wasn’t what it used to be. Carpal tunnel was a bitch. Still, you furrowed your brow, concentrating, He swelled in your hand, pre-cum leaking at the red tip dripping onto your fingers. You stopped for a moment to coat your palm with it, bringing it to your mouth and licking your hand, moaning at his taste. Jungkook shivered, watching your saliva spread all over before returning to his cock, adding to the lubrication.

He pressed his head into the back of the armchair, hips rising as you started again, jaw tense.

“I’m not as good as before,” you gritted out. “My wrist–”

“It’s perfect,” Jungkook interjected. “Fuck, your hand is perfect.”

He was rock hard in your hand as you jacked him off. You snuck a glance at him. His hands were on his face, combing through his dark hair, eyes closing, mouth open as he moaned, rutting into your palm.

He was just so, so sensual that it was driving you insane, his noises making you wet. There was something feral about it, the way he looked at you through his lashes.

“Can I finger you?” he pleaded. “Please.”

Your hips were raised to get a good angle, your arousal already dripping down your thigh.

“Of course. Touch me, Jungkook.”

He lowered his hands, hair all over his face, staring at you through the veil. His fingers slid up your thigh, slipping in between. Dipping in, moaning as he touched your wetness. You sucked in a breath, feeling his fingertip graze your swollen clit. Your grip tightened.

“Jungkook.” Your eyes found his, glazed with lust. “You can be rougher with me. If you want.”

He swallowed, Adam’s apple bobbing. “Don’t want to hurt you…”

You smirked.

“You forget who you’re talking to.”

He pushed two fingers into you, feeling you suck him in as you stroked him, smile still on your lips. Jungkook grinned, pressing his thumb against your clit and rubbed it as he began to thrust his fingers into you, matching your pace, the two of you focused on getting each other off, breath mixing between your bodies.

“Noona?”

“Yeah?” you panted, whimpering at his roughness, his fingers scissoring in you, stretching your walls as you squeezed back, faster and faster.

“Wanna cum in your mouth.”

You chuckled as he shoved a third finger into you, punishing your clit repeatedly, so full, so good, it was making you crazy, but you had to focus, you had to get him off.

“This is a weird angle.”

Jungkook suddenly pulled his fingers out and pinched your clit, making you hiss and your legs shake, pained whimpers clawing from your throat.

“Do it.” His voice was a low growl. “Do it and I���ll reward you.”

You slid off the chair, still stroking his cock, narrowing your eyes at him. Jungkook looked down at you, smirk on his pretty pink lips, whispering your name. You removed your hand and replaced it with your mouth. Fuck. He sighed, hand coming up to tangle in your hair, not quite pressing you down but holding you there, his taste coating your tongue, his hard length throbbing in your mouth. You moaned onto his cock and his hips trembled, his long bangs covering his left eye.

Ugh, the way he looked at you. Your felt your pussy clench, demanding his cock.

Instead, you began to move your head up and down, soft lips around him, mouth tight around the head and length. His hand stayed there, moving with you, firm, reminding you that you couldn’t stop, that you had to keep going until he came. You set a nice, fast, tight pace, already knowing he was close, hearing his breathy groans, repeating your name over and over.

“Always thought you were fuckable,” Jungkook panted out. “Always wanted you in my bed.” He pressed his head into the armchair, shutting his eyes. “Couldn’t figure out how to convince you, couldn’t figure out how to tell you that I wanted you so very much.”

You tightened your throat around him and he dug his nails into your scalp, breathing shallow and tight.

“Gonna cum, noona, fuck, gonna cum down that pretty throat of yours.”

Jungkook squeezed his eyes shut and groaned, his orgasm filling your mouth, coating your tongue, slipping down your throat. You gulped and he yelped at the sensitivity, whimpering as you softly lapped at the head, cleaning him off. Drinking it all, intoxicated with it, so satisfied swallowing it all.

Oh, how you loved sex.

You slowly removed your mouth crawling back up, no longer aware of your obligations to Taehyung, only interested in brushing Jungkook’s hair aside and kissing him deep, moaning as his tongue forced into your mouth, tasting himself. His hand slipped back into your folds and three fingers deep into you, fucking you. You whined into his mouth, telling him how good he was, telling him how good he felt inside you, telling him you how much you wanted his cock, his beautiful, thick cock jammed all the way inside you.

The door lock clicked and neither of you heard anything.

“Ah, I managed to hitch a ride with Jim– WHAT THE FUCK?”

Taehyung’s deep voice boomed throughout the apartment and you were still making out with Jungkook’s face as his fingers thrust into your slopping wet pussy, spreading you out. You whimpered as Jungkook broke the kiss, pushing you against his body as Taehyung slammed the door and marched in, kicking off his shoes carelessly.

“Fucking shit, why are you like this, fucking everything in your sight, you absolute–”

You turned your head, somewhat ashamed, feeling somewhat sorry – but not that sorry, because Jungkook’s fingers were still inside you. Taehyung’s strong features were twisted in annoyance, but he wasn’t looking at you.

He was scowling at Jungkook.

“I told you,” Taehyung said sharply, sweeping his lush fur coat back to reveal his black turtleneck and black slacks, pointing an accusing finger at Jungkook. “Not to get her started, because she is a horny seductress.”

You raised your eyebrows at him. “Excuse me?”

Taehyung ticked his head, looking down at you. “Am I wrong?”

You pouted. “Well, no.”

“And,” he added, directing his attention at you. “Why would you not ask me to fuck first? I’ve seen you naked hundreds of times!”

Jungkook raised his eyebrows. “Hundreds?”

Taehyung ignored him, leaning down and taking your chin. Brown eyes a mix of angry and amused, observing your lust. “I am offended that I respected you and you’re sitting in my roommate’s lap instead of mine.” His breath seemed like alcohol.

Your lips parted, heart beating fast. “S-sorry, Tae… You’re just always dragging me out of weird stuff that I thought you were disgusted by me…”

Taehyung brought his face close to you. You loved his voice. So deep, so intense, so heavy. It seemed to shake your soul with bass.

“I’ve wanted you on my dick the second I saw you.”

And then he kissed you, hard and full, as Jungkook’s fingers began to move inside you once again.

-

part ii: kth x you x jjk

--

masterpost

[admiringlove]

VII: reckless; his mistake.

— atsumu isn’t one to take rash decisions but he couldn’t help himself. now, your heart is shattered.

+pairing: miya atsumu x reader.

+genre: crossover(hq x hp); fluff; angst; frenemies to lovers.

+word count: 1.8k.

+warnings: angst. 

+usual customers(taglist): @babyworld @renee1414 @anotherhydrangea @seita @tobiosnoelle @weebslxt @tsukkiwaifu16 @loveusandoor @kozumebri @sarawrz @crackheadsara @kyuudere @cultsax @supernovaa-a @akaashikeijisan @b3llo-there @sugasloverr @kagebunshiin @tetsurolls @velvetfireworks @kritiiiii @1wai@seijohlogy​ @sweetrosemilktea @bellesowl @ems1des​ @akaashi-todorki @tanaka-ryu​ @irishhbamb​ @sweetsamus​ @cherriechurros @mxshimoo @bluebirdandcomrades @zukuroo @denki-core @sarahvvictoria​ @littlevoxine

+author’s notes: taglist officially closed <3

+navigation: previous, masterlist, next.

You woke up in the morning, with Madam Pomfrey just by your bedside as she mixed a few herbs together in a mortar and pestle. You coughed, your throat dry as a tumbleweed, as your eyes widened.

Atsumu.

You tried getting up, the pain in your shoulder skyrocketing as you coughed even more. Madam Pomfrey was scolding you, but your ears were ringing—you could only hear a white noise as you coughed and the school nurse forcefully poured a nasty tasting medicine into your mouth, making you swallow it as she held your jaw softly. 

"There. You're good now, darling. Just lay down for a while, alright?" she said, rubbing circles on your back. Your mind raced as all you could do was nod at the woman, who moved onto the bed next to yours. 

That's Rin! 

You look at your figure in a frantic state—bandages wrapped from your left wrist to your shoulder, random purple bruises littered across your leg and arms with gashes in your other leg and torso. You grimaced at your sight, but then looked up and around in denouement. 

The curtains covered the bed to your right; you were trying your best to figure out who all was in the Infirmary with you. Till now, you could see Suna, Sakusa, Osamu, and Aran—

That's Atsumu, you gasped in revelation. Your eyes darting to the tiny space between the curtain and the wall just to get a glimpse of the boy. Just then a coarse voice stopped you, "Don't bother, [L/N]. You won't want to see that right now."

"Rin?" you whipped your head around and instantly regretting it because of the sudden rush of pain. Seeing the brown-haired boy get up as he winced made you feel almost guilty—it's because of you they were so hurt, wasn't it?

"This happens every month, don't worry," he coughed out as Madam Pomfrey scolded him about talking such 'posh'. He laughed it off, saying that if you and Atsumu weren't there, then his wounds would be worse. You opened your mouth to speak, but that was when you heard a grunt coming in from the other side of the curtain.

"Okay, hush now, both of you," Madam Pomfrey says, ruffling Suna's hair lightly as she grabbed a syringe and a bottle from the table and walked towards the other side of the curtain—simply so you two wouldn't have to see how bad Atsumu's wounds really were. 

And a couple of seconds later, when Miya Atsumu's screams filled the Infirmary, was when you realized—you shouldn't have followed him into the Shrieking Shack. 

"You're okay, now. That's all that matters," cheered Alisa as she walked into the Great Hall for dinner a few days later. You walked alongside them, hiding your bandages inside your robe. You hated how Atsumu was still in the Infirmary as the rest of you roamed about freely. It irked you to an extent where your nights felt almost sleepless. 

You would be thinking about him—contemplating whether you should have gone after him. Whether it would be any different if you had just let him go; if you had just waited for the next day to talk to him again. You never knew when you were falling asleep, just staring into the darkness till the depths of the night. 

You visited him in the Infirmary every day till he got discharged. You couldn't help but feel responsible for his wounds because honestly, who wouldn't? And when a week later, he was discharged, he didn't seem to even look you in the eye anymore. 

It drove you crazy—not feeling his burning stare at the back of your head every time you walked to Potions, him not even bothering to yell at you in Quidditch practice, him not teasing you about the Treacle Tarts during dinner, and you just missing his vague southern dialect barking at you for no reason whatsoever. You craved his slightly flirty comments that made your ears heat up in Transfiguration and Alchemy, how he'd say the dirtiest of things without failing to keep a straight face. You even wanted him to annoy you again or hit you with his Bludger so you could go to Hogsmeade with him. 

"You look like the saddest Bowtruckle ever," Suna nudged you as you sat alone in the Courtyard, chuckling as he sat down next to you and began talking, "You're worried about him, aren't you?"

"How do you always know what to say, but you're the cockiest little shit ever?" you ask, closing your book and facing the chartreuse-eyed idiot, scoffing. He looks at you, raising an eyebrow as he says, "Wasn't it you that avoided him in the first place? Dare I say, you kinda deserve this."

"Oh, how I wish the unforgivable curses weren't illegal right now," you gritted your teeth, standing up from your place at the fountain and kicking a stray rock at Suna, "Because I could literally torture you right now."

"You should just kill me instead," he shakes his head. 

"Merlin's beard, you're one depressed little shit."

"You should talk to him," the annoying wolf catches up to you yet again, walking over to your left so he could stop you from turning to the staircases. You huffed, stomping one foot and placing a hand on your hip as you said, "Rin, for Salazar's sake, not this again."

"What? Classes are over, and he's literally rotting in the dorm. If I get him out after Quidditch today, will you talk to him? At least make the damn effort," Suna hisses, flicking your forehead as his expression clearly sprays more venom than his words. You sighed, shaking your head, "I need to think about it."

"Why the fuck-"

"He said he loved me on the full moon," you paused, "By the Black Lake?" you say hesitantly, making it come out more like a question than an answer. Your eyed averted to the floor, anywhere but Suna, who had his mouth wide open and his eyes actually intrigued in what you had to say now. He cleared his throat begrudgingly, coughing once or twice before saying, "What did you say?"

"We.. erm, got interrupted," you look back up to a shocked Suna, who was edging you to continue, "By erm... the Shack thing."

"Oh for fuck's sake," Rin lets out a breathy sentence, his whole demeanor turning into disappointment, "Why are there so many fucking... ugh!"

"Your pain is understandable, pussy bangs," you giggled, grabbing his robes slightly and leading him to the library to complete your homework. 

“Hey, don’t fucking call me that!”

You had continued to meet up with Kiyoko to go to Quidditch Practice that evening. You managed to catch the Snitch in a few minutes, earning a small, dissent "good job" from Atsumu. It made you smile just a smidge, glad for the smallest interaction in the past week that he had been discharged. A scintilla of regret slipping in your mind as you felt the urge to tease him as if everything was okay. 

Practice ended soon enough, you walking back to the changing rooms with Kiyoko and Osamu, talking about something or the other as you walked into the girls' changing room, parting with the grey-haired werewolf as Kiyoko began, "Osamu says he hasn't been sleeping."

"Stop," you sighed, taking off your shoes and socks as you sat on the bench next to the locker, "—you're not helping and you're making me confused. I talked to Suna, and I'm going to try to talk to Atsumu soon. I need to give him time."

"I literally didn't say anything," Kiyoko laughs, pulling on a grey jumper and jeans as she tilts her head, "You're doing good, bub."

"Thank you..?"

You reminisced about the times in third year how Atsumu used to say, "a cold shower is the answer to all problems", chuckling when you remembered the next part of that sentence as you plopped onto your bed, turning over and reaching to the bag of treats to slip them to Bo. You watched the grey owl slowly gulp down the treat, smiling contently as you hugged a pillow close to your chest. 

"God, Bo. It's late at night and I skipped dinner today of all days," you groaned, getting up to sit at your desk, your head on the table. The owl tilted its head, hooting a few times in response as if saying that you should go to the kitchens to get that snack after all.

"You're always right, Bo. Here have another treat," you cooed, feeding the bird one more crumb then walking out of the Common Room in your invisibility cloak. The House Elves were always kind to you, giving you a snack even in the middle of twilight, and keeping quiet when Filch questions them about how a few Treacle Tarts or dumplings are missing. 

You curse yourself when you almost bump into the wretched cat, namely Mrs. Norris, when you walked into the Kitchens. A House Elf gasped, running to the door and closing it immediately after you pulled off the cloak. 

"[Y/N] must not sneak out at night like this, it will get her into trouble!" Missy, a House Elf behind the counter shrieks. You stifle a giggle, petting the Elf's head lovingly and slipping her a scarf—your heart melting at how the female Elf blushed at the gift, immediately adorning it as she quickly reached into a jar and slipped you a few Pudding cups and Treacle Tarts(which you took into your jacket pocket) before wishing Missy a good night and walking back out. You were on your way back to the dorms when you heard a very... questionable noise, per se. 

"What in the name of Godric," you cursed, simply shaking it off as you walked down the stairs to the dungeons, but then hearing a voice that you knew way too well. 

Atsumu?

You gasped, running back up the stairs as you looked around frantically. The cloak covering you barely as you panted, finally finding the source of the said "noise".

To say you instantly regretted that decision, was probably the biggest understatement of the year. As you see Atsumu, pressing a girl against the wall of the empty hallway(which the professors normally don't check at this hour as they've already gone to sleep), as he left marks on her neck. The girl placed her hand on his head, tangling his piss strands with her nimble fingers as she bit down on her tongue. 

You couldn't believe it. 

It took him one week. One week, to get over you, who he had been pining over for years. He hadn't even thought twice to ask if the so-called "unrequited" feelings were reciprocated. 

You were heartbroken. 

So, what do you do? You let a few tears slip—wiping them away almost instantly as you walked back to the Common Room in rue. But what you didn't know, was that someone in their dorm was cursing out their brother as they looked at a very peculiar map in their hands. 

© all works belong to admiringlove on tumblr. plagiarism is strictly prohibited.

[lakemojave]

Land of Falling Sun 3

“Tumbleweed! Tumbleweed! I’m a little tumbleweed!”

They didn’t hear the hoofbeats in the distance. They were entranced, utterly enthralled by the sensation of rolling around in the dirt. They liked how their wings felt against the earth, and how it felt to wiggle their little legs into the air. An uninformed observer would call this behavior a dust bath, but it was more akin to a childlike wonder for life and living, acted out as a playful exaltation of solid ground. To Chipper, it wasn’t nearly so complex; they just like rolling every now and then.

“Tumbleweed! Tumbleweed! I’m a little tumbleweed!” They sang to themself like this whenever they got bored of the silence. Today, they sang this little ditty every twenty to thirty seconds. Their long, swept back hair, which normally flowed behind them majestically in the sky as they flew, became tangled, dirty, and filled with tiny branches and thorns. A small cut opened on their long, beak-like nose, which they hardly noticed.

Of course, they were dreadfully hungry, and thirsty, and defenseless, and scared, and terribly and inescapably alone; and of course, while Chipper was playing like this, none of this occurred to them, or mattered at all.

This went on for several hours.

“Tumbleweed! Tumbleweed! I’m a little tumbleweed!” They sat up to catch their breath. As the silence sank in and the loving sensation of the earth kissing their feathers subsiding, their cheery disposition faded. They looked around, becoming aware of their condition, and the vast, endless space which embraced them. They stared vacantly towards the dust cloud to the west. Their wings drooped limply to the ground. They started scratching the ground nervously with their toes, and felt a great and insurmountable dread take them over.

Then they heard hoofbeats behind them.

They snapped to attention, instantly flapping their wings and lifting up in the air, extending to their full height. They remained in place as though treading water, extending their wings out as a show of strength to this stranger. It was a man on horseback, their mount carrying a slight trot through the dirt. When Chipper rose from the ground, the rider reared his horse back, stunned by their display. This mysterious man, stunned at first, mumbled something to his horse, then readjusted himself and continued towards Chipper. He seemed a good deal older than them, as though the years had taken a toll far greater than their due. His beard looked tangled with specks of white. The wide brim of his hat had a bullethole neatly above his forehead. He had dark skin covered by too much clothing for the heat, but when Chipper got a look at the marks on his neck, they chose not to question it. He didn’t look hostile, but they didn’t survive by trusting random strangers in the desert.

“Who are you?” They unfolded their wings again, furrowed their brow, and adopted a deeper voice.

He squinted at them, coughed, and answered. “Sorry, was I intruding?”

Chipper was a little taken aback by his politeness, on account of his rough and haggard disposition. His horse, a pretty young thing whose tusks had grown out nicely, snickered and whinnied at its master’s answer.

“Shut your hole I’m doing my best,” the rider hissed at his horse, seemingly in response to something.

Chipper tilted their head in confusion. “Are you alright?” Their voice softened to its natural tone, and their show of strength dropped for a moment.

“No, not really, kid,” he said back, clearly irritated. “Gettin’ pretty sick of my present company.”

“Oh,” said Chipper, “Sorry to hear that sir. It looks capable though, and quite lovely."

The rider furrowed his brow and squinted at this remark. “If you say so lil’ fella,” he said. “Now if you don’t mind, I’ll be on my way.”

“Wait!” Chipper said, desperately at first, but then reasserting themself to the rider in another attempt at intimidation. “Wait. You haven’t told me who you are.”

The man paused a moment and regarded his horse, then looked back. “Hey what’s that?”

“What’s what?” Chipper replied, still trying--and evidently failing--to assert their dominance.

“That thing you’re doing with your voice.” He gestured towards the horse, who opened its mouth to reveal a toothy grin. “It’s curious.”

“I do not know what you’re…” they gave up, correctly reading the rider’s unfazed expression. They receded a bit, now visibly insecure. “Just thought I could scare you off. I thought humans were easy to scare.” They both paused. “You are human, right?”

“Does it matter?” The rider said back, frankly.

“I...I guess not,” they admitted. The rider spurred his horse forward at a light pace. Chipper paused a moment, then, still curious with this surly stranger, followed after him. He made no sign that their company was not welcome. “So...what are you doing out here?”

He gave her a short glance, then turned forward again. “Don’t know yet,” he said, “But here I am. Might die, might make the best of it. We’ll see.” His voice was tired and coarse, which sounded natural for a person of his manner, but Chipper could hear his fatigue. He reached for his waterskin and held it out to them: a kind, but futile gesture. “Sorry. Silly mistake.”

“Don’t worry. Happens a lot.” The wanderer reached to seal the canteen when he noticed Chipper’s left wing started to change. On their feathers were very subtle markings, apparently runes of some nature. Four of them, towards the tip of their wing, began to glow, and as they flapped to keep up with the wanderer, his canteen grew heavier. Looking inside, he saw that Chipper had refilled it.

“Wow. Thank you.” He reached for a sip, then paused. “Sure you don’t want any? We could stop and I could...I don’t know...pour you a sip?”

“Uhhh…” They felt this was too much trouble for a drink, and felt a little guilty accepting this offer for some reason. “Let’s wait till we stop.”

The wanderer shrugged. “Alright. I’ll drink when you do.” He stashed the canteen.

They both looked on, towards the towering cloud of dust in the distance. “What do you think is out there?” Chipper asked.

“Not sure,” the wanderer said. “Hopefully a town or something.” Chipper saw him consider them for a moment, likely evaluating what to do with his new companion. “If you want you can tag along till then.”

They were a little shocked by this. “Really? Why?”

He looked at them impatiently. “Wanna come or not?” He asked.

Chipper said nothing, but flew along with him anyway. His horse picked up to a trot, and Chipper flapped along, letting the knots out of their hair as it flowed back in the breeze. The wanderer tilted his hat to account for the sunlight, shading his eyes. The horse let out a neigh. “Don’t get too friendly. They won’t be here long.”

“What’s its name?”

“...Dog.”

[uraharashouten]

Shipping Interview!

Multi, single, or fewship?: So... lil’ bit of history. At first, this blog was a no-ship blog. Then, for awhile, it was an exclusive single-ship blog. Then it lay fallow for a few years as the tumbleweeds rolled across, and when I came back and dusted it off last September, I decided to be decidedly less invested in roleplay than I had in the past. For me, that meant more compartmentalizing in my life rather than spending my waking hours daydreaming and emotionally exhausting myself over fantasy worlds. Because in the past, I had a bit of a problem. So, as part of that, I decided not to put the kind of energy into writing romantic ships that I had done. Mind you, Kisuke has some deep friendships and familial relationships, so it’s not that I wouldn’t write very feelsy things; it’s that to develop a full-fledged romance again felt a little... daunting.

So where are we now? Well, I suppose I’m less intimidated by the prospect. Did I answer the question? No? Good.

What are you willing to RP when it comes to shipping?: I’ve written enough physical intimacy that I’m no longer uncomfortable doing it with a mutual I trust and know well, but it hasn’t been on this blog, and I don’t particularly want it on this blog, because it’s not really what I’m here for. I know people often like to imagine Kisuke as enjoying the no-strings, just-for-fun hanky-panky; I don’t mind including that as a headcanon or alluding to things that may have happened off-screen, but I’m not really here to write things with no real emotional arc. That has to be present to hold my interest; I’m just not into PWP fic. So how far would I go with an interaction? Honestly, all the way, if there is a relational dynamic to resolve. Though I might prefer to fade to black when the hands get frisky, and take the more intimate stuff off-tumblr.

I’m usually more interested to write the things that happen between two emotionally invested people that don’t revolve around kissy-kissy. Not that I’m averse to it, and sometimes that’s just what the muse wants... I mean, he’s got those needs, too... but I’d like to avoid the pitfall of having all the interactions fall into that well.

How large does the age gap have to be to make it uncomfortable?: Things get tricky with souls that reach age of majority early and remain adults for a long, long time. I’d be comfortable with a very wide age gap, as long as both parties are mature adults (that’s already one strike against Kisuke, lol). Having said that, it’s going to be difficult to interest Kisuke in anyone that has considerably less life experience and perspective. You’re going to have to stimulate his mind, and I just don’t see a younger person doing that for him as much as an older soul. Heh heh, ships in which he’s the younger party? Yes.

Are you selective when shipping?: Incredibly. I have to really get to know someone OOC and feel comfy with them before I’ll even consider going down that path.

How far do steamy moments have to go before they’re considered NSFW?: I think once hands start stimulating what underwear normally covers, it’s time to tag and use read-mores.

Does one have to ask to ship with you?: It’s best not to assume, I guess, but in my experience these things always seem to evolve either organically (where you back into it, turn around, and suddenly you’re facing a ship) or can be a completely random surprise (hello, memes!) Both those feel a lot more fun to me and in the spirit of roleplay than to approach someone with “would you like to try out a ship?”

How often do you like to ship?: Uh.... it’s really more a question of who than when! I have to really have a certain vibe with someone, and I guess that happens rarely enough. 

What is your favorite ship in your current fandom?: Oh, y’all know I love UraYoru. I’m not even trying to hide it. But ShiYori isn’t even a close second anymore; it’s right up there on equal footing!

Tagged by: @praedulcis--helianthus​, @xyuuken​ [[ thank you friends~! ]] Tagging: @bleachintothemultiverse​, @the-lightning-underdog​, @indawns​, @semplicementerojuro​, @jigokumai​, @rukia-kuchiki-divided​, and anyone who’s been craving ice cream this summer!

[spaaaceman]

RULES: Answer 20 questions (+5), and then tag 20 people you wanna know better!

I was tagged by @brownyuio !! Thanks dude ☻

1. NAME: Holden

2. NICKNAME(S): Hold, Holdy (used exclusively by my mom, girlfriend, and sister)

3. ZODIAC: Gemini 🌞, Cancer ⬆️, Scorpio 🌙

4. HEIGHT: 5’9ish

5. LANGUAGES: Sadly just english

6. NATIONALITY: American

7. FAVORITE SEASON: summer is what I look forward to all year, but spring and fall are aight too... really anything but winter

8. FAVORITE FLOWER: jasmine, sunflowers, plumeria, orchids. Lots of others (mostly tropical and wildflowers) cuz that’s kind of a big question to ask a gardener but I tried to narrow it down

9. FAVORITE SCENT: jasmine, lilacs, butter and onions cooking, that smell you smell sometimes in the woods which my dad has always said is “the smell of earth” and I don’t actually know what it really comes from (prob rotting leaves), the smell inside a greenhouse

10. FAVORITE ANIMAL: Cat, octopus, lemur

11. FAVORITE FICITIONAL CHARACTER: fox mulder and Dana scully, noodle from gorillaz, totoro, the cat bus

12. COFFEE, TEA, OR HOT CHOCOLATE?: tea!

13. AVERAGE SLEEP: ~5-6 hrs?

14. FAVORITE COLOR: Turquoise, mustard yellow

15. DOG OR CAT PERSON: both but with a very slight leaning towards cats

16. NUMBER OF BLANKETS: usually 1 no matter the season

17. DREAM TRIP: Japan and Greece are at the top of my bucket list! But I also definitely need to go back to Ireland someday, and Scotland and Amsterdam are up there too... would also love to explore more tropical places cuz they have my favorite plants, and id really like to travel all over the US too.

18. BLOG ESTABLISHED: March 2010. Yes I’m ancient

19. FOLLOWER COUNT: 1,935 but most are inactive at this point

20. RANDOM FACT ABOUT ME: I can untie any knot. In literally anything. Rope, wires, chains, hoses, headphones etc. There hasn’t been a knot I haven’t been able to untie yet. I’m a very useful person to have around!

21. GENDER: M

22. SEXUALITY: bi-sexy

23. HARRY POTTER MORAL COMPASS: actually went and took a quiz for this lol. Apparently I’m a Ravenclaw

24. WHERE ARE YOU FROM: New York Shitty

25. WHY DID YOU START THIS BLOG: all my friends were doing it ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ now most of them are gone and I’m still here *tumbleweed rolls across screen*

26. MOST RECENTLY PLAYED ALBUM: miss anthropocene - grimes

I’m tagging some people but also anyone who see this and wants to do it is also tagged!

@moderncivilization @guardwasps @01100110-01100001-01100111 @piratepenny @honey-melon-moon @cordial-lump @coup-contrecoup @toopunktofuck @agentdalecooper @queenofshiva @chronicreagan @mybloodyvalerie @thebrakshow @reverse-laika @bitchesdontknowshit

[queenraibix-blog]

Blue moon (Now I’m no Longer Alone) - part two

Title: Blue moon (Now I’m no Longer Alone)

Chapter: Novac - Part One

Series: South Park, Fallout

Pairing: Creek (slow burn)

Plot: Craig had enough to deal with while searching for the man that shot him in the head without having to babysit some twitchy boy with a distinct lack of volume control. But here he was, gun in hand and ready to get this kid to New Vegas.

Previous Chapters:

1. Ranger Station Charlie

Craig wasn’t used to talking to people. He’d been on his own for so long that he’d gotten used to getting by with speaking to as few towns folk as possible, quickly accepting their business if the caps were good enough and then vacating the town as quickly as possible. It was easier that way. If he didn’t have attachments to other people he wouldn’t have to experience the bad parts of life; grief, loss, and heartbreak were all things he found he could easily avoid.

And it wasn’t that Craig had any attachment to Tweek yet, but boy, could the boy chatter non-stop. At first he’d just mumbled things under his breath, nervous mutterings about how he hoped they didn’t run into geckos, or what if they ran into the Viper gang’s raiding party? Not to mention every time so much as a tumbleweed crossed their path the boy would jump out of his skin and screech. More than once Craig had been forced to take out his laser pistol to fend off giant ants from the desert, because Tweek’s loud voice had signalled them to come closer.

And every time Tweek would apologize, sure, but that didn’t mean Craig didn’t want to strangle him and leave him for dead on the side of the road.

But then came the random conversation starters. Craig could applaud the boy for trying so hard at getting him to open up, but Craig was simply not in the mood to talk to Tweek. The less they talked before reaching the Vegas Strip the better off they’d both be at the end of their journey. To most of Tweek’s questions, Craig would give a quick nod or a simple shrug of his shoulders, but he kept a straight face and didn’t spend much time in answering him.

It was on the second hour of the non-stop chatter that Craig felt like he was going to explode. According to his Pip-Boy, they’d be arriving in Novac in about twenty minutes, and the sooner that happened, the sooner they could get separate rooms and he could get some peace and quiet.

“And you know, I-I think I saw some aliens a few nights ago! They all had these scary laser rifles, b-but I hid as quickly as I could a-and I waited until they left before coming out of hiding!” Tweek reached up to pull at his hair, another nervous tick that Craig was beginning to notice. It he wasn’t tugging on his blonde locks he was scratching at his arms incessantly or, of course, twitching. Craig was honestly surprised that the smaller boy hadn’t gone bald from ripping all of his hair out.

“That’s great, Tweek.” Putting his canteen up to his lips, Craig took a sip of water. The sun was beginning to set and so the heat had finally started to die down a bit. Instead of the hundred degrees it had been previously, his Pip-Boy was registering the temperature at about eight-five. Still hot, but at least it was manageable.

“D-Do the aliens not scare you Craig? They could abduct you! And if they do that they might dissect you or even worse, th-they might probe you. I-I’ve heard that’s the worst ever, gah!” Tweek jumped just at the thought and stopped walking for a moment to calm his breathing back down. Craig stopped too, waiting for the boy to catch back up to him, and held in a sigh of annoyance.

“Nope,” He popped the p sound as he responded, “The aliens aren’t going to get me Tweek.”

The monotone response seemed to put Tweek at ease momentarily, something that Craig noted in his mind. It was weird how different they were, to be entirely honest. While Craig had a tendency to internalize everything and keep a cold demeanor, Tweek was vibrant and expressive. He put everything on his sleeve and while Craig found it insanely annoying, he also admired the fact that someone so clearly expressive had managed to last this long in the Wasteland.

During all of the boy’s ramblings, Craig had discovered that Tweek had been on his own in the Mojave wasteland for about three months already, though he never told Craig where he had come from or what he’d been doing since he reached the wasteland. And Craig decided not to ask, as it wasn’t really any of his business. He just needed to stay focused on his mission at hand.

Finally Tweek’s voice trailed off and there was some silence between the two, a welcomed change for the dark-haired man. In the distance he could already see the giant T-Rex, Dinky, rising above the hills. That meant their trip was almost over.

“When we get to Novac, we’ll have to split up for a bit in the morning. Do you have enough caps to get yourself a room?” Craig turned his head for the first time in a while to look at Tweek. He noticed the boy tense up at the question before he shook his head.

“No, I uhh, I don’t have any caps at all. I haven’t been anywhere where I could make any.” The boy grabbed his arm and a look of guilt crossed his face. “I can just sleep outside though! I-I mean it’s not like I’m used to a bed or anything anyways, so… yeah, I’ll be fine, Craig.”

With a groan, Craig took his bag off his shoulders and reached inside to take out his container of caps. From a rough estimate he wouldn’t have enough caps to afford two rooms, and while he didn’t want Tweek to stay in his room he couldn’t help feeling a bit sorry for the boy. Not to mention he knew he’d feel guilty leaving Tweek out in the cold desert night while he got to stay in a warm bed. Shoving the caps back into his bag he sent Tweek an unimpressed look.

“Whatever, I guess we’ll just share a room. But tomorrow you need to figure out a way to make some caps in town while I take care of some business.” Craig crossed his arms and turned back around to continue their walk to Novac. “I’ll help you get to the Strip, but you need to be able to make your own money along the way. There’s a credit check at the gate, so if you don’t have at least two thousand caps, you won’t be able to get onto the Strip even if you make it there.”

Tweek nodded furiously in response, “Of course! I-I’ll find a way to make money as soon as possible! Maybe I could scavenge some stuff on our way to Vegas, too!”

It wasn’t the worst idea to have come out of Tweek’s mouth, so Craig gave him a brief nod but didn’t say anything further. Honestly, the last thing he needed was to get Tweek all the way to New Vegas just to have him stuck in Freeside. Surviving in the wasteland was one thing, but the neighborhood surrounding New Vegas wasn’t safe once night fell. The Kings kept order during the day, but Craig had seen plenty of dead bodies in the morning from muggings that had gone wrong. Gamblers who’d made too much money on the Strip never stood a chance if they went out into Freeside at night. He didn’t need Tweek to be another corpse in an alleyway if he was going through all this effort to get him their safely.

As they approached the chain link fence surrounding the giant dinosaur, Craig motioned for Tweek to follow him inside the small settlement. It seemed like most of the residents had already returned to their homes for the night, with only the medical tent still having some occupants at the entrance to the town. Wasting no time, Craig made his way to the motel, pushing open the door and letting himself in as quickly as possible. An older woman stood at the desk, looking up at the pair as they entered. Adjusting her glasses to sit higher on her slim face, she greeted them with a smile and a wave.

“Why hello there boys, welcome to the Dino Dee-lite Motel! The name’s Jeannie May, and this here’s my establishment.  You two looking to get some rooms for the night?” Tweek took a step behind Craig, clearly not used to speaking with someone this friendly. Not that Craig could say he was quite used to it either, but at least he had the knowledge that Novac was a generally safe town to be in.

“Just one room, thanks.” Pulling the caps out of his bag, Craig counted out one hundred before placing them on the counter and taking the key from the older woman.

“Well alright boys, let me show you to your room.” Coming out from around the desk, Jeannie May led them out the door and towards a staircase outside. Taking them to the third room on the second floor, she motioned for them to enter. Using the key, Craig unlocked the door and made his way inside, followed closely behind by Tweek. Craig pulled off his bag and set it on the bed before turning back to Jeannie May, who still stood in the doorway smiling at the pair.

“We’re good, so you can just, you know… leave.” Craig stated the request in as blunt a manner as possible before walking away from the women, focusing on checking his gear to see what rations he’d need to buy while he was in town.

“Oh, well I guess I’ll be going then!” The older woman laughed awkwardly for a moment. “If you boys need anything stop by the motel’s office, or swing by my house if it’s too late. The address is written right in the office, so don’t be shy!”

With that, Tweek took the initiative to give her a quick wave before closing the door to their room, sighing with relief now that they were safely inside.

“Th-that woman was kind of scary, don’t you think? No one’s that nice in the wasteland!” Tweek’s hands went up and into his hair as he paced around the room. “What if she’s faking it and plans on killing us?! Or maybe harvesting our organs, oh GOD!”

“She’s not going to do anything, stop worrying. Novac is safe and most of the people here are just annoyingly friendly. You’ll get used to it.” With that being said, Craig allowed himself to flop back on the bed, taking a moment to just relax into the stained mattress. It felt nice to be indoors for once and away from the wind and sand.

“O-Okay, but something about her just doesn’t sit right with me.” Tweek placed his pack on a nearby chair and made his way over to the bed, taking a seat on the edge as far away from Craig as he could.

“It’s good to be sceptical, but she won’t do anything. If she tries to get in here I’ll kick her ass, alright?” After taking a moment to stretch out his tired limbs, Craig sat up and began to rummage around in his bag. Taking out an old carton of cigarettes, he brought the tobacco to his lips and took out his lighter. When a small flame appeared, he took in a breath and lit up the cigarette, inhaling the smoke he’d been deprived of all day. Smoke breaks weren’t a safe choice when you were out on the road, so he saved the few cigarettes he had for the moments of peace he found. Blowing out the smoke, he offered the cigarette to Tweek. “You smoke?”

“N-No thanks, I’m fine without that.” Craig shrugged at the response and gave his attention back to the smoke that was once again filling his lungs and giving him a sense of peace. “I think… maybe I’ll go look around town for a bit. See if I can find any work.”

“I doubt you’ll find anything this late at night, Tweek.” Craig took another drag of the cigarette before putting it out, wanting to save the second half of the cigarette for a later time. “But knock yourself out, I’m getting some sleep. Take the key with you so you can let yourself back in.”

With that, Craig laid back on the bed and turned away from Tweek, raising a hand to wave him off dismissively.

Tweek nodded, though he knew Craig couldn’t see it, before rising from the bed and pocketing the key on the nightstand. Making his way to the door, he looked back to Craig one final time before heading out into the night. Looking over the railing of the balcony, Tweek took in his surroundings. Before him stood the giant dinosaur, but upon further inspection he noticed that it wasn’t just some old world statue; there was a door with a staircase leading up to it on the side! That was enough to peak the young man’s curiosity and instantly Tweek found himself heading down the motel stairs to investigate. Making his way across the motel yard, he ascended the steps and pulled open the door. As he entered the dinosaur, his eyes were met with all sorts of odds and ends on display. Was it a shop of some sort? He could see food on the shelves behind him and some cartons of dirty water and before him, behind the counter, sat small replicas of the dinosaur building he was inside of. Smiling a bit to himself, Tweek made his way over to the replicas and picked on up, turning it over in his hands to take in the details.

It had been so long since he’d seen a children’s toy. Back “home”, if he could call it that, there were never any toys unless they’d been snuck in, and once they’d been found by any of the men there they were thrown to the fires or to the dogs, but no one was ever allowed to keep them. But Tweek could remember when he was younger than even that. His mother had given him a stuffed bear one, he could remember that! He would play with it all day long whenever he could!

But that was so long ago, and it hurt to look back on those times.

Putting the dinosaur back on the shelf, Tweek looked to his left and noted another staircase leading higher into the dinosaur. Where could it have possibly led?

Creeping up the stairs quietly, nervous about not knowing what to expect, Tweek soon found himself standing in front of the door. Sucking in a deep breath, trying to find some calm inside himself, Tweek laid his hand on the door knob and pulled it open only an inch or so before looking outside. Before him he could see the night sky and… a man? Oh God, what should he do? The door was already open, but it didn’t seem like Tweek had been noticed yet. He could always just sneak away, but what if this man was the shopkeeper? That meant that he might have some work for Tweek to do. Mutter a quick “Oh God.” under his breath, Tweek pushed the door open the rest of the way, hearing a loud creek as he did so. Instantly, the man spun around and Tweek found himself face to face with the barrel of a gun.

“Oh man, oh God, please don’t shoot me!” Tweek’s eye twitched and he could feel his body shaking as panic set in. His hands reached up to pull on his hair as he watched the man across from him slowly lower his gun.

“You shouldn’t have snuck up on me like that. What do you want?” The man was blunt and to the point and it almost reminded him of Craig in a way. Shaking in his spot, Tweek tried to find his words to respond to the man.

“I-I’m new in town and I-I guess I’m just passing through? Oh God, I don’t know man! I’m looking for work?!” The words were a jumbled mess, falling from his lips too quickly. It took the man across from him a moment to process, but he saw the man nod and lower his rifle completely.

“I don’t have anything for you to do, kid, so maybe you should just lea–” The man cut himself off in an instant, thinking for a moment, before starting to speak again, “No, you know what. I don’t know you, you’re not from Novac, and that’s a start. I do have something I could use your help with.”

Confusion made its way to Tweek’s face. How did him being a stranger mean he’d be of use to this scary man? Just by looking at him, Tweek could discern that he was likely ex-military, or at the very least a mercenary, but based on the red beret he wore Tweek felt safe in assuming he was with the New California Republic. A lot of them wore those berets, right? The rest of his uniform was seemingly missing, considering he was dressed in only a white tee-shirt and a pair of dark cargo pants, but his demeanor screamed military.

“U-Uhmm, how exactly can I help you?” Tweek wrung his fingers together as he waited for more details on whatever job he was about to be given. He had no clue what to expect and it had him completely on edge.

“Someone in this town is helping the Legion, and I want that son of a bitch dead.” Tweek’s eyes widened at that. This had to do with the Legion? He could feel his blood run cold as the man continued, “Someone sold my wife to the Legion as a slave, but I don’t know who. All I know is that she’s likely dead at this point and I couldn’t do anything to stop them. So I need you to figure out who sold her, bring them to the front of the Dinosaur while I’m on duty, and I’ll do the rest.”

Although the idea of crossing the Legion made anxiety course through Tweek, he knew this wasn’t a job he could turn away. He knew what the Legion was capable of and he knew the anger that this man felt. If it meant taking down even one person connected to the Legion, Tweek would do anything he could to help. Maybe he couldn’t take on their army, but he sure as hell could help this one man.

“O-Okay, I’ll do it! I’ll give any Legionaire in this town hell!” Tweek’s voice cracked as he shouted, but determination was inside of him and he was ready to find this person and give them hell. “Just tell me what to do.”

“Alright kid, you’ll bring them in front of the dinosaur after 9PM, and you’ll put this on.” Taking off his red beret, the man passed it over to Tweek. “And when you put that on, I’ll know you’ve got the right person out there. I’ll handle everything else.”

“Alright!” Tweek let out a growl as he grabbed the hat, digging his fingers into the rough material. “Is there anywhere I should start?”

“If I had to guess, I’d say No-Bark would be your best source of information. The guy’s insane, but if you can figure out the meaning behind what he’s saying, I’m sure he’ll have some clues for you.” The man nodded to Tweek, “By the way, my name’s Boone, but until this task is done it’s likely best that we don’t be seen talking to one another. We don’t want to tip anyone off that we’re hunting them down.”

And that was apparently where their conversation was going to end, as Boone turned away and returned to looking out over the highway. Beret in hand, Tweek opened the door behind him and started down the stairs.

It was time to fuck with the Legion.

[queencassiopeia6]

Take me back to the night we met .0

The next morning I did my fair share of traslating texts (I’m a linguist) and finished up after midday to catch the bus out of town to spend the rest of the weekend at my family lake home. During the one hour ride I checked my insta multiple times (like people check the fridge) to see if maybe D had posted anything, even a story. I had liked a couple of his posts that same morning. I felt oddly drawn to him, this wouldn’t be the first time a boy had gotten my attention, but this was a boy I knew almost nothing about. hence odd.

The day with family was nothing out of the ordinary, we did some planting, some watering, I took a wonderful long walk along the lake, breathed in that late spring merky lake water and felt in place. It was around dinner time, when I was sitting down on the cold sandy lake shore staring into the cold water thinking about what this coming summer may bring, that my phone notified me that I have recieved a DM, from no other than my new-made friend.

I panic. A lot. My hands get sweaty and shaky. My heart races. And since my blood pressure is already low, it drops even lower and as my head starts to spin everything tends to go black as I feel like I am about to pass out. So now yall know just how I felt as a reaction to that text I recieved. It was a hello and a thank you to me liking D’s posts. I wasn’t sure how to react, can’t just say “oh, don’t mention it”, (by the way - I also overthink. Overthink everything). And as I was nervously trembling my thumb over the keyboard, he texted again - how’s it going, whachu up to. I am that much of a weirdo, that it took me about 20 minutes to get myself together to reply to that little message! God help me. After that, everything seemed so much easier. It’s as if we’ve been chatting for ages, like we knew each other. We hit the keys back and forth until well after midnight, just finding out everything about each other. Movies to recommend, music that is life, flavored tobacco etc. I ended up passing out at some point and kind of left him hanging, to which he waited for an hour, and bid me good night. The next morning I felt stink that I passed out without warning, so I sent a few random messages, so that when he woke up - we’d have something to go on.

It was just after lunch time, while we were packing up for the long drive home that D replied. My hands were kind of busy so I took my time with getting back to him, which I wish I hadn’t. D figured I was preoccupied, so after a few texts, he sent a voice message asking if I were keen to have coffee later today, hinting that it would be a lot easier to have this conversation in person. I don’t think I need to mention how nervously I agreed to have coffee with him. And after 3 hours of washing the smell of burnt wood, old leafs and paint off me, after putting on a full face of make up, then washing it off cause it was waaaaaaaaaay too much, and doing it all over again - I felt like I was ready to have coffee.

We met at a coffee palace in an atrium of a near by hotel. Me being me, too resposible to be late EVER, arrived early. I had been sitting down with my tea reading from my phone when D walked in. In the few moments while he looked around to find me, hung his coat and ordered a coffee, I got a decent look at him, properly. D wasn’t much taller than me, I’d say we were about the same height. His dark, near black hair was streaked with natures highlights, at the young age of just 22 his head was was flowing with grey hairs. To be fair, much like mine, but I felt the pressure of society to cover that up in order to avoid questions of why I had so much grey hair while being only 26. I couldn’t tell much about his physique due to a baggy sweater and straight cut jeans. As D sat down and we started talking, I got a good look at his eyes. They were a mixture of colors I had yet not witnessed. Much like hazel, but darker, a lot more mahogany in his iris. But when the setting sun which lit up the atrium hit the top of the building behind my back and shined into his face, I saw a million emerald sparks that had settled all around the hazelhunt iris. They were overshined by the amber streaks that made his iris look like a golden sky of constelations, as for the every jade spot, a golden line would lead from there, to another one. I must’ve dazed off and had began to stare as I noticed that D was now quietly checking out my appearance, which must’ve made me blush like a mad woman since he smiled from ear to ear, and said that he was just mirroing me. Now that might sound awkward, but I suddenly felt right in place, as if I hadn’t been blushing cause D had caught me staring. In place, like there was nothing wrong with me getting a closer look at him. And I knew D felt the same, well, cause he told me that there was nothing wrong with him noticing that I too have oddly colored eyes, that my freckles don’t settle much over my face other than my nose, but they are well spread over my neck, collar bone and shoulders, like stars. Now that one made me blush.

We talked, a lot, a few hours worth, about everything. The tea had been refilled and there was a few origami roses made from table tissues. It was almost dark, the sun was barely getting through the tall buildings which this town was made of, when D offered that we take a walk down a few blocks from said hotel to the place where we had met, the place where he no longer worked but is always welcomed at, and smoke a delighful sheesha - LBB. That sounded fantastic. A lovely way to end an evening, a weekend. I’m saying the word end as if this person wasn’t to stay in my life. As if he wouldn’t occupy my mind for the next year and a half (so far) and that I wouldn’t go a single day without thinking of him. As if I wouldn’t grown to hate him at moments but feel the biggest relief when I would see him and wouldn’t be able to help myself but to smile when he was around.

The walk didn’t take long thankfully as it had gotten rather chilly outside and my leather jacket wasn’t doing a great job at keeping me cozy anymore. I shared my ear buds and we listened to my infinte playlist as we continued to talk about random things. At LBB we met up with O and M and sat down for an evening filled with sheesha and Monopoly (which I hate but we were short on entertainment). I realised that the clock had stricked after mid night only when O reminded me that we were to start work earlier on Mondays due to her physical therapy after a minor bike incident she had while in Bali. M began to pack up the game as her boyfriend (N) arrived to chill a little and then drive her home. I looked at D and he mentioned that time does fly when you’re enjoying yourself, and with a suddent blast of confidence I said (not asked) - “walk me home”. With my peripheral vision I saw how O’s facial expression changed in a smile of surprise to a nod of being impressed, she hadn’t seen me flirt before and knew how shy and socialy awkward I can be.

As we stepped outside, O kissed me goodnight and got into her cab, D said that we were taking a different route this time, a longer one. I asked if that was a good idea due to the temperature taking quite a drop and how I wasn’t dressed appropriately for a long walk. D told me not to worry, he said he’ keep me warm. As he took my hand I felt his palm tremor, his hand was so warm but rough skinned yet oddly comforting - “your hands are so cold, it’s insane!”. Having low blood pressure, being anemic and it being cold outside was a triple threat, but with my newly found blast of confidence I quickly remembered a witty come back “they’re not half as cold as just under oxygenated” (yes I do enjoy The Fault in Our Stars). D’s smile grew fondly as he took a step towards the garth’s and nodded his head in the direction of the street lit alleys, as if asking me to follow him. I think at that point it hit me - this was a date, and oh boy was I happy about it. As we walked towards my house we discussed the causes of anemia and my witty remarks about how not everyone was given the gift of having a 1000 degree body temperature, seriously, this guy was like his own sun. And the topic of being single came up too. Not one I favor to discuss, but I layed all my cards out in front of him - make sure that it was all on the table and so he knew that I don’t enjoy letting people in, making sure he knows that goodbyes are hard on me.

Turned out M lived only a few blocks away from me since D mentioned that he felt like I was taking him to her place as we got closer to mine. The conversation was growing quiter as we reached the entrance of my apartment buidling and his hand had gotten hotter as well as mine sweatier (face palm). We both knew that this date was bound to come to an end at some point, but neither of us had wanted that point to any time soon. We stood at the door, I jangled my keys trying to not look at him because I didn’t know what would come next. I mean I knew what I wanted to come next, but plans don’t always coexist in seperate minds. To be honest I found myself at that rare moment when my mind drew a complete blank. Nothing, not even a tumbleweed. D was still holding my hand, and was at an arms reach when he took a step closer towards me turning that distance nonexistant. I nervously looked up and met his stare. I could tell D was slightly worried about what was to come also, but trust me, not like I was. We looked at each other a few seconds as he told me that he’s really like to kiss me right now, followed by permission to do so, asking me - ‘what do you think about that”. “I find myself not thinking at all right now” I replied honestly. D leaned his head forward, took my face into his hands and our lips locked. I’m not gonna say it was magical. That would be the understatement of the century. My lips were bigger, much bigger than his, so with every lock we made I got to feel every chap in his dry lips, every curve his tongue made when he’d try to lick his own lips in the quick betweens of head movements. His left hand still holding my face and his right hand had slowly moved down my neck, over my shoulder and under my arm to my weist and pushing my torso into his. I in return had my left hand on his shoulder, sinking my fingers into it as if terrified that at any moment he would dissappear. My right hand was on the back of his neck at the contour of the hair line and bare skin. Gently running my fingers upwards into his short hair, clenching all I could in a fist and pushing my face into his.

I don’t know how long we were kissing in front of the entrance but it must have been a while since the motion detector light went off and we were standing in complete darkness when D’s phone had rung and interrupted us. He pulled his face away, and removed his left hand from my face to get his phone, whilst keeping him right hand on my weist, as if to let me know that we were not done here. It was M, calling to inform him that while she was closing up, she had found his back pack and if he would like her to drop it off or if he’d prefer the keys to the lounge so that he can later pick it up himself. He said that he’d prefer the keys due to not being ready to go home quiet yet. D winked at as he said that last bit and pulled me closer. I blushed knowing that this not ending just yet and that there may be more to come. We held each other and talked for the next 5 to 7 minutes while waiting for M and N to drive up and hand D the keys to LBB. We saw them pull into the parking lot and as M hopped out and walked towards us I could tell she was feeling at least slightly excited. Her big brown eyes were lit with sparks and her large nude colored lips were moving in in a smirk, the girl knew she had interrupted something juicy. We exchanged pleasantries as she handed over the keys and wished us a “most sensible” night and laughed as she hugged me goodbye. As D and I watched them drive off into the night, we giggled like we were 15 and had just been caught by the school staff while making out behind the bleachers or something. I said that I can not invite him inside my apartment as I do not live alone, but we could at least move this party to the stairs in the entrance hall way. So we did.

I think I’d like to leave the rest to another tbc

[getoffthesoapbox]

(VK Science anon) Haha of course, it’s no problem at all! I will admit that this discussion is certainly keeping me on my toes. Now I know that I need to reread Kaname’s past and that I don’t understand how a catastrophe could cause people to find each other unless it caused people to migrate to a certain area. However, neither one affect my theory! :) 1/?

(VK Science anon) The environment from 10,000 years ago would be different from the present and we can this in how temperature, sea level, precipitation, and even land changes. Now I’m noticing that some of the issues with understanding this theory are some misconceptions about mutations, so sorry, I am going to spam you this time, but I just want to clear some things up :) Again, mutations are random, spontaneous, so it’s hard to pinpoint a particular reason why one would even occur. 2/?

Just like everything else, DNA replication and repair is not 100% perfect. Sometimes there can be an issue during DNA replication like a nucleotide base is deleted, inserted, or paired incorrectly, which would affect the codon and the gene. As ironic as it sounds, there can even be an error during DNA repair. This would affect development and the genes that are expressed. There also isn’t an age range for genetic alteration. 3/?

Going back to my theory, the environment would only be a factor. It could affect anything from climate to people’s diet. In terms of people’s diets, we know that a pregnant woman’s choices can affect the development of a baby. In terms of mutations when someone is already born/alive, radiation and chemicals can act as mutagens, so location and even job can affect this. Earlier you mentioned a virus, which could also affect someone when they’re already alive. 4/?

In terms of cancer, it could affect gene regulation by keeping a gene “on” and increasing cell proliferation, which is bad. However, because mutations are random, none of these things have to be a factor, but because Hino only had humans birth Purebloods at one time in history, it led me to suspect that the environment somehow played a role during development (Not mutations after being born). So to clear some other things up, a mutation can either be positive or negative. 5/?

A mutation can be beneficial and it is actually mutations that can increase an organism’s fitness, which will lead to natural selection and evolution (yay!). An issue with gene(s) or even the chromosomes can still be referred to as a “genetic disorder” aka a disease (negative). Examples would be Sickle cell and Down syndrome. The question is whether or not you would want to look at naturally-born vampires as having a genetic disorder… 6/? (I think? This is a lot OTL)

Wow, I sent so much that tumblr briefly blocked me (=__=) Obviously, you don’t have to answer all of this at once. But back to my point: If you were to look at naturally-born vampires as having a genetic disorder, I think that would affect if you would classify them as a subspecies of humans (They would still be the same species regardless). However, I think you would have to weigh the pros and cons of their abilities to determine whether or not they can live healthy lives. 7/?

That would include considering the fact that they can’t get ill, they heal quickly, etc.; but then they are nocturnal, need blood, and live long lives, which based on VK and other stories I’ve read, is a bad thing. And then you would have to look at if the definition of a “healthy life” can be different from the norm of a human life. As far as evolution, I’ll leave that to the ecologists :P 8/?

I love that you broke tumblr’s ask quota. =P~~~~ But no, keep ‘em coming, I’m loving this conversation, and don’t worry about spamming my inbox–you’re my only anon for the most part these days, so it would be quite a tumbleweed-infested area without your contributions! ;D

Thanks for clearing up the whole mutations business for me–that’s really helpful, especially since the last time I took a science class was so long ago we’ve probably had a million revolutions since then. ;D I fully admit my ignorance on the subject! 

Okay, so first, the origin of the mutation itself: If I’m understanding you right (and correct me if I’m getting any of this wrong), it ultimately doesn’t matter what “caused” the mutation–whether that be before or after the climate catastrophe mentioned during the Ancestor memory section–because a mutation could be caused by any variety of environmental factors that existed before the catastrophe or after it. And you think the progenitors could have been any age when the mutation hit them? That does make it seem more like a disease like cancer, where it just happens randomly and the body replicates it. And I think you’re right about the progenitors just migrating–that’s the way it appears to be in the origin chapters; the Hooded Woman is wandering around “gathering” all of those of her kind. It does make me wonder if a significant portion of regular humanity was wiped out during that climate catastrophe though, and perhaps that’s why it was easier for the purebloods to find each other during that time. 

Anyway, so the progenitor purebloods still seem to be fairly rare in 10K years ago history; is it normal for spontaneous mutations to only affect a small fraction of people in the same way over large populations? Though that is true of cancer, so perhaps that’s true of the pureblood mutation as well, if it’s “built into” the DNA and just needs the right sequence triggered. But wouldn’t we see some variation in the mutations too? Purebloods all seem to be fairly consistent–they all have immortality, they all are invincible, they all can “turn” humans vampire, they all can create these familiar things from their own blood, they all can (I assume?) regress their cells to any point in their evolutionary development, they all can control their servants. It’s a pretty consistent mutation without much variation, other than perhaps the individual “magikal powahs” each pureblood gets. Thoughts? 

Your musings on beneficial mutations made me think of something else too which I wanted to run by you: so okay let’s assume from an evolutionary perspective, the purebloods are a “response” to something in the environment, a protective response to preserve the species. The good things they get: immortality, attractiveness, power, impervious to disease. The only drawback is that they can “change” other humans into vampires and then control them. But evolution isn’t moral and doesn’t care about free will, so from a species preservation perspective this makes perfect sense–purebloods are an evolutionary answer to some kind of human devastation. They can “save” a human by turning them into a vampire. This human will then have vampire babies, who will also be impervious to whatever devastating factors were causing the necessity for the rise of the purebloods. So in that sense, the purebloods would be arguably beneficial from an evolutionary perspective, as they could protect and ensure the survival of the species by just changing all the remaining humans into vampires.

The problem, of course, is that clearly the environmental conditions reverted or altered to a state where purebloods were no longer necessary in order to keep the species moving forward. So now basically they’re almost an anachronism that can’t be destroyed because, well, their very evolution rendered them immortal and impervious to any damage (they’re too well-built, but not sustaining because of the harmful mental effects of immortality). So I would argue in the current day, their evolutionary advantages are working against them now, but only in a psychological sense, which leads to them killing themselves and/or not procreating (their birthrates are really low according to Kaname in the early Kuran Manor arc chapters, and we know they’re down to a mere 33 purebloods before the story even started, which is even lower with all the murdering Kaname did–33 purebloods isn’t remotely enough to ensure replacement rates, plus with all their darned inbreeding they’re not exactly going to be genetically diverse enough to ensure continued species existence). We know purebloods go bonkers the longer they live and have trouble coping with what to do with themselves for all eternity, but that may not have been the case had all of humanity been turned into vampires. There’s a term for that…the Gini Coefficient I think? Basically, the vampires are “comparing” themselves to their shorter-lived counterparts–humans–and are becoming unhappy precisely because of the comparison. If everyone was a vampire, likely most people would be happier, and the evolutionary advantage would be more apparent I think, especially since vampires can feed off each other and don’t actually “need” human blood? (The other potential problem is that purebloods clearly still have a regular human brain, which may not be properly equipped to deal with their uniquely immortal circumstances.)

Okay, sorry, went on a tangent there. Not sure where I’m going with all that rambling, but I would say what we have on our hands is a subspecies of human created to protect the survival of the species during a period of instability that no longer exists. But because this strain of human is so impervious to disease and death, it’s still around despite no longer being “necessary,” and thus it’s a nuisance to the original human strain, which doesn’t want to “evolve” into the new species (thanks mind control and blood sucking–both gross things!). Basically we’ve got free will clashing with evolutionary necessity I think. I still have a tough time grappling with the evolutionary necessity for “servant vampires,” but maybe that has to do with ensuring those members survive, because the will of the master vampire will protect them or something. (Which of course, master vampires misuse and abuse because, hey, that’s what humans do!) 

I’ll answer your last ask separately, since it’s kind of moving us into a new topic. ;D 

[bleedingcoffee42]

Western AU

I shouldn't touch a random genre generator, I can't do anything but obey and do something with the prompt.

Historical/Horror = Ghosts and Western Au guest starring....the tumbleweed.

xxxxxxxxxxx

Deputy Jean Havoc was pretty sure there was nothing more 'old west' than the picture of him standing in front of the Sheriff's office smoking a hand rolled cigarette and looking out at the setting sun.   What bothered him was that that  picture was currently being drawn by that muscle man from the circus that liked to rip off his clothes and bellow about muscles and his lineage.   Jean tilted his head back and blew a smoke ring in the air, perhaps if he was lucky the guy really did have a hot sister and she would see the drawing and want to meet him.   Then again, he could only imagine what Armstrong's sister looked like and none of those images were good.

The wind picked up and the dust stirred in the street and the cliché tumbleweed rumbled past.   Jean watched it go and then some shadow in the dust cloud caught his eye.   Out of habit he rested his hand on the Colt revolver on his hip and waited to see who would be coming into town from that direction.   The wind died down, the tumbleweed disappeared and the dust settled to reveal a man wearing a long black coat on a blood bay horse.

Jean stepped into the street as the man came over to the office, slipped off his horse and tied his reins to the hitching post.  It was a nice horse, shiny red coat and long black mane and tail and the government brand on it's hindquarters.   Jean toyed with the cigarette in his mouth and looked at the rather short guy turning to him, catching the sight of a Federal Marshal badge on his vest.   Oh, the Sheriff was going to be thrilled.   “Hello Marshall, what can I help you with today?”

Roy Mustang was tired, dirty and completely done with every damned local who had been deputized for one reason or another so this one got the brunt of his frustration.   “I'll talk to your Sheriff, if you don't mind getting out of my way.”

“Sheriff isn't here.”  Jean shrugged and remained in the guys way and blew some smoke in his face for the rude tone and overall arrogance he was emitting.   “You're welcome to sit inside and wait.”

Roy pulled out his pocket watch and checked the time.  It was getting late and it would be nice to sleep in a bed tonight instead of on the ground.   If he put his horse up at the livery now he could get a room and take a bath at the Hotel, maybe find this Sheriff before dinner and get his questions answered.  “Do you have an estimated time of return?”

“My shift ends at 8.”  Jean said. “Sheriff will be back before then.”

“Thank you.”  Roy said dryly.  Why he couldn't say that before was beyond him.  It was all a damned game with people in these small towns, everyone trying to prove they had some power over the government official that rode into town and in the end it always ended up with him being a huge dick.   Lives were on the line and all anyone wanted to do was play trivial power play games.  God, all the guy said was 'can I help you' and he was ready to fight him.   Tired and on edge, a bath then bed sounded good.  So he walked his horse over to the livery, untacked and paid for the stall, then found his way over to the Hotel.

“Good evening sir! Can I interest you in a drawing I made of your arrival?”

What weird shit was this?   Roy stared at the huge bald guy that appeared to be sparkling.  He narrowed his eyes to determine why and deduced that there was saloon girl glitter on his head.   Then he looked at the drawing.   It was incredibly good, something his Mom would appreciate.   It was also evidence he had been here.  So he pulled out his wallet again and handed out another bill for a service he didn't want.   “Thanks.”

“Enjoy your stay!!!”  

Then the man took off his shirt and Roy hurried into the hotel to avoid finding out exactly what the guy was going to try and sell him next.    He walked to the counter and a young guy with glasses ran over to help him.  “A room.  A bath. Nothing else.”

Kain Fuery was instantly in awe of this man in black and also very intimidated.   He saw the star and gasped. “A Marshall?”

God it was like he was a fucking unicorn.   He was really going to have to review how often the Marshall of this territory got out of his office and patrolled it.   “Yes.”

“I...wow.”  Fuery said and money materialized on the counter.    He turned around and found the key for the bridal suite and grabbed it, then handed it to the man and pushed the register to him.  “I'll give you our best room for the regular rate.”

Best room probably meant it was one step above a coffin, but he didn't have it in his heart to say that to this starry eyed kid.  It would be like scolding a puppy.   “Thank you.”

“Does the Sheriff know you're here?” Fuery asked as he read the name being signed in his register.   “Marshall Mustang?”

He just shrugged, too tired to ask where that law enforcement individual could be in a town this small. “Send 'em to my room if he wants to grace me with his presence. Where is the bath?”

“Back through this door.   I'll have it ready for you in half an hour!”  

Roy rubbed his eyes and watched the kid scamper away, then moved over to another part of the counter where envelopes and pens were stored for what he assumed was guests convenience in case they had something to write home about.   He quickly wrote his mother's address down, put his new picture in the envelope and placed some change on the counter so he could reach over and grab a stamp.   Then the letter was dropped in the mail slot for what he hoped was a reliable delivery to the postmaster and he turned to go to the saloon for a drink.

“Marshall!   Bath is ready!  Mr. Armstrong says it's with his compliments.”

Roy turned as the kid materialized from the hallway and smiled.  Then that artist guy appeared behind him without a shirt and with a towel draped over his shoulders.    

“It would be my honor if you would use my bath, sir.”  

The guy bowed and he reluctantly allowed the Hotel manager to lead him to the back room where a steaming bath awaited.  It looked too good to refuse, even if it smelled kind of strong and was filled with bubbles and was gifted to him by a half-naked man that just drew his picture.    Still, it was less creepy than playing chess with his boss and the guy offering to arrange a marriage with his granddaughter.   “Thanks.”

“Thank you for your service, sir!”

The door closed and he slowly undressed and put his Peacemaker on the table beside the bath.    Was this odd, sure, but his level of give-a-damn was so low right now he was willing to shoot anyone who walked through the door to disturb him.   That seemed like it was enough to warrant taking a chance on a nice relaxing bath and getting the grime of his travels off and the tension of getting no results out of his aching shoulders.   His clothes hit the floor right after his boots and he was in that inviting water before it really had time to cool.

But damn it felt so good.

No sooner did he relax than he heard stomping outside the door and had to reach for his revolver, bubbles all over his hands and point it to the door.    The door was already open and a gun pointed at him as he turned leaving him to hold his pistol up in a sign of defeat knowing he was too slow to take on his attacker.  

“I hear you're looking for me?”

A woman?   He starred at her face, beautiful brown eyes starred at him from under the brim of her hat and blond hair spilled out over her shoulders.   He didn't recognize her, perhaps the creatures he was chasing had already changed shape. Perhaps this was a newly resurrected body....

“You're Mustang aren't you?”  

Demanding.   Like she had somewhere better to be than in a bath room with a naked man covered in bubbles.  That sort of offended him so he sat upright and showed off his body a little.  The bubbles slowly slipped down his body and revealed his abs.   That always was a delightful surprise for the ladies.  This one never removed here eyes from him.  Well....she had to be resurrected dead if that didn't move her at all. “Yes.”

“I'm Sheriff Hawkeye.”  She said and pointed to his gun.  “Are you going to put that gun down?”

The Sheriff?  He suddenly wanted to be arrested.   Possibly for indecent exposure.   “If you close the door, it's a little drafty.”

The door closed and he put his gun down, she holstered hers.  Then she went over to look at him as he sat in his smelly bubble bath and said, “Are you here about this necromancy epidemic?  Do you know how to kill them?”

That was a nice way of putting it.   “You've had homunculus here?”

“We have one running our Saloon.” Hawkeye put her hands on her hips.  “Calls himself Greed and I can't kill him or evict him and it's pissing me off. He's not paying his taxes.”

Roy sat up straighter and almost stood up, then remembered he was naked and in a bath and she was most definitely a lady.   “I need him alive.”

“Then you can have him.”  Riza said and tried to not look at his abs or really nice shoulders, but damn it had been so long since a nice looking man that didn't work for her was within a 100 miles of this town.   At least one that wasn't some kind of monster.  

“You said epidemic....are there more?”  Roy asked.

“There were, my Deputy dated one for a awhile.”  Riza said and looked at this man debating on weather or not this was worthy of him getting out of his bath or not.   “As far as I can tell there is a guy called Father, who I assume is a priest of some sort, going around and showing people how to raise the dead in exchange for their souls.  Are you looking for him? “I'm looking for my partner, Marshall Maes Hughes, who was last known to have contact with a woman named Lust while investigating this.  I'll take any leads I can get.”  Roy couldn't believe he had stumbled on this and now he was looking for that towel he saw earlier and.....apparently forgot to take from that muscle guy.

“Well Greed will be happy to tell you all about it and hopefully he will follow you home.”  She said. “I'll wait outside.”

He watched her turn and leave and then shouted, “Can you get me a towel?”

“Do I look like the maid?”

“No, you look like a gorgeous young lady I would like to get to know better that probably won't appreciative me streaking through your streets with a gun in my hand to apprehend a homunculus who might know where my best friend is.   I'd like to wait to reveal that until later in our relationship and avoid the handcuffs until then as well.”

There was silence and a stifled laugh before boots clacked against the floorboards.  

He sighed and sank deeper into the bath.   Then the door opened and a towel came flying in at his head.

“First date starts in five minutes at the Devil's Nest, I'd recommend covering up your tits if you're going in that place.”

[careergrowthblog]

Edu-Twitter Rules OK. 

I’m writing this reflection as my Twitter account recently passed the 50,000 followers milestone. It’s not something I ever expected to happen;  it doesn’t seem all that long ago when Vic Goddard sent me a tweet saying he was my 50th follower, back in May 2012.  For a long time I’ve been aware that a significant following carries some responsibilities and risks – but mainly it is a great joy. It’s wonderful to be able to connect with so many people. (Yeah, I know, some will be bots but what can you do? And they’re not all personal friends – I know that too). Apart from during holidays and occasional meltdowns when I delete the app from my phone, Twitter is a part of daily life for me.  Some might think that is rather tragic – but that’s how it is. 

A look at the twitter analytics stats – which I hardly ever do – tells me this:  61% of followers are female, 50% are in 25-34 age group and 82% based in the UK. 

My most liked and RT’d tweet is this: 

1 Epic Fail 2 Disgraceful Fail 3 Dismal Fail 4 Standard Pass 5 Strong Pass 6 Mega Pass 7 Herculean Pass 8 Bionic Pass 9 SuperMassive Pass

— Tom Sherrington (@teacherhead) March 28, 2017

I follow over 3000 people which makes my timeline pretty busy. The advantage is that no one group dominates and it has a random factor which I like. There’s a good mix of education, news, politics, science and bits of fluff. The disadvantage is that you miss things. I’ve found it useful to have a list I call ‘education commentary’ that I keep to 50 members and edit from time to time. I dip in for an update every so often.  https://twitter.com/teacherhead/lists/education-commentary/members 

One of my favourite things about Twitter is the blog sharing. This is the main reason I use it- as a way to share my blogs.  But it’s also a major source of professional learning and I read a lot of blogs and articles every week. Some people are incredibly generous.  I got over the hang-ups about self-promotion long ago. I think of it as sharing. Every time I tweet a link, someone new reads it.  I probably overdo it sometimes – I’m sure I’ve been muted by hundreds – but I’m always grateful to see links from bloggers; there’s no use hiding all those ideas. How else would we know they were there?

Another favourite thing is the sense of community. Particularly now that I’ve met a lot of the people I follow – and nearly all of the people on my commentary list – it really does feel like that. And there are lots more people I’d still love to meet having only connected online.  There is a lot of kindness and support in the Edu-sphere. I’ve had unbelievable personal support over the years – especially the last one. My DM inbox was flooded with kind messages earlier this year which meant a lot. 

There are obviously problems with Twitter too. I’ve learned so much from the exchange of ideas but sometimes I watch in dismay as a ‘debate’ explodes into poisonous acrimony. You need a certain mindset to debate ideas in 140 character snippets without descending into barbed exchanges. Of course tone matters – because we are people.  Some people do this really well, respectfully disagreeing and exchanging views.  Others seem to thrive on the conflict. Personally, I try to avoid it – except maybe very rarely. If you dish it out, you need to be able to take it; that doesn’t always happen. I’m uncomfortable with it not least because you get forced into camps which is something I’m at pains to resist. 

Luckily Twitter has good features for helping manage the environment a little: unfollow, mute, block, and ‘mute this conversation’ which is a godsend. I’ve also set my account so I can’t be tagged into tweets. Blocking is extreme but I have adopted a zero tolerance approach: if I’m judged, attacked or referenced in a way I don’t like, I block. Simple. Life’s too short. If people offer respectful challenge and ask questions, that’s entirely different. 

I’m sure we all have our own code that we try to follow. Here’s mine: – it’s a list of my personal filters not of puritanical commandments.  I’ll probably break it sometimes – but it’s mine so I’m allowed, even if I disappoint myself. 

Don’t ever swear. It’s a public forum. Students are followers; it looks bad.

Assume people have good intentions even if they say or do things that make your heart sink. 

Try to say things to or about people, in a style you would use to their face. (eg would you hold up someone’s worksheet in front of them and laugh at them saying – OMG, did you really make this pathetic worksheet?) Especially if you might actually meet them.

Avoid actively engaging with anonymous accounts or people with no bio or a photo of themselves. They could be anyone and they are unaccountable. 

Don’t get hung up about giving or expecting replies: sometimes people  are too busy – it’s not personal. 

Don’t criticise individual schools – whatever you read about them in the press, in Ofsted report snippets (which can’t be trusted) or from their twitter opponents – who often have axes to grind. It’s always more complicated and you don’t know the full context.  You’re not helping. Ask questions but don’t just pile in. Schools are always misrepresented – don’t be part of that.

Critique of other institutions is fine – that’s not the same as personal criticism of their encumbent leaders: Ofsted, DFE, unions etc… 

Politicians can be criticised freely for what they do and say. It’s not personal. It’s part of being an MP. Other edu-folk require more sensitivity. It’s different. Where possible direct questions to them, don’t just talk about them. 

Try not to crash weekly chats with hashtagged blog promotions during the chat time period. It annoys everyone. 

Don’t feel obliged to read blogs that are sent via mentions or DM or to respond to requests for RTs. 

Try to support new bloggers – not just read what your geeky (predominantly white, male) friends write. (This is an area I should do better on). 

Stop being disappointed by Total Tumbleweed, every time you post your music. Nobody is interested – get over it. 

I can’t imagine Twitter still being the same in five years’ time. I fear it will do a MySpace and self-destruct.  The bubble will burst.  Or will it? Maybe not…. I hope it lasts. How else would we know what’s going on?  

Thanks to everyone reading and following – –  especially to everyone who contributes to making Twitter so interesting. 

Twitter Rules. 

Edu-Twitter Rules OK.  published first on http://ift.tt/2uVElOo

[careergrowthblog]

Edu-Twitter Rules OK. 

I’m writing this reflection as my Twitter account recently passed the 50,000 followers milestone. It’s not something I ever expected to happen;  it doesn’t seem all that long ago when Vic Goddard sent me a tweet saying he was my 50th follower, back in May 2012.  For a long time I’ve been aware that a significant following carries some responsibilities and risks – but mainly it is a great joy. It’s wonderful to be able to connect with so many people. (Yeah, I know, some will be bots but what can you do? And they’re not all personal friends – I know that too). Apart from during holidays and occasional meltdowns when I delete the app from my phone, Twitter is a part of daily life for me.  Some might think that is rather tragic – but that’s how it is. 

A look at the twitter analytics stats – which I hardly ever do – tells me this:  61% of followers are female, 50% are in 25-34 age group and 82% based in the UK. 

My most liked and RT’d tweet is this: 

1 Epic Fail 2 Disgraceful Fail 3 Dismal Fail 4 Standard Pass 5 Strong Pass 6 Mega Pass 7 Herculean Pass 8 Bionic Pass 9 SuperMassive Pass

— Tom Sherrington (@teacherhead) March 28, 2017

I follow over 3000 people which makes my timeline pretty busy. The advantage is that no one group dominates and it has a random factor which I like. There’s a good mix of education, news, politics, science and bits of fluff. The disadvantage is that you miss things. I’ve found it useful to have a list I call ‘education commentary’ that I keep to 50 members and edit from time to time. I dip in for an update every so often.  https://twitter.com/teacherhead/lists/education-commentary/members 

One of my favourite things about Twitter is the blog sharing. This is the main reason I use it- as a way to share my blogs.  But it’s also a major source of professional learning and I read a lot of blogs and articles every week. Some people are incredibly generous.  I got over the hang-ups about self-promotion long ago. I think of it as sharing. Every time I tweet a link, someone new reads it.  I probably overdo it sometimes – I’m sure I’ve been muted by hundreds – but I’m always grateful to see links from bloggers; there’s no use hiding all those ideas. How else would we know they were there?

Another favourite thing is the sense of community. Particularly now that I’ve met a lot of the people I follow – and nearly all of the people on my commentary list – it really does feel like that. And there are lots more people I’d still love to meet having only connected online.  There is a lot of kindness and support in the Edu-sphere. I’ve had unbelievable personal support over the years – especially the last one. My DM inbox was flooded with kind messages earlier this year which meant a lot. 

There are obviously problems with Twitter too. I’ve learned so much from the exchange of ideas but sometimes I watch in dismay as a ‘debate’ explodes into poisonous acrimony. You need a certain mindset to debate ideas in 140 character snippets without descending into barbed exchanges. Of course tone matters – because we are people.  Some people do this really well, respectfully disagreeing and exchanging views.  Others seem to thrive on the conflict. Personally, I try to avoid it – except maybe very rarely. If you dish it out, you need to be able to take it; that doesn’t always happen. I’m uncomfortable with it not least because you get forced into camps which is something I’m at pains to resist. 

Luckily Twitter has good features for helping manage the environment a little: unfollow, mute, block, and ‘mute this conversation’ which is a godsend. I’ve also set my account so I can’t be tagged into tweets. Blocking is extreme but I have adopted a zero tolerance approach: if I’m judged, attacked or referenced in a way I don’t like, I block. Simple. Life’s too short. If people offer respectful challenge and ask questions, that’s entirely different. 

I’m sure we all have our own code that we try to follow. Here’s mine: – it’s a list of my personal filters not of puritanical commandments.  I’ll probably break it sometimes – but it’s mine so I’m allowed, even if I disappoint myself. 

Don’t ever swear. It’s a public forum. Students are followers; it looks bad.

Assume people have good intentions even if they say or do things that make your heart sink. 

Try to say things to or about people, in a style you would use to their face. (eg would you hold up someone’s worksheet in front of them and laugh at them saying – OMG, did you really make this pathetic worksheet?) Especially if you might actually meet them.

Avoid actively engaging with anonymous accounts or people with no bio or a photo of themselves. They could be anyone and they are unaccountable. 

Don’t get hung up about giving or expecting replies: sometimes people  are too busy – it’s not personal. 

Don’t criticise individual schools – whatever you read about them in the press, in Ofsted report snippets (which can’t be trusted) or from their twitter opponents – who often have axes to grind. It’s always more complicated and you don’t know the full context.  You’re not helping. Ask questions but don’t just pile in. Schools are always misrepresented – don’t be part of that.

Critique of other institutions is fine – that’s not the same as personal criticism of their encumbent leaders: Ofsted, DFE, unions etc… 

Politicians can be criticised freely for what they do and say. It’s not personal. It’s part of being an MP. Other edu-folk require more sensitivity. It’s different. Where possible direct questions to them, don’t just talk about them. 

Try not to crash weekly chats with hashtagged blog promotions during the chat time period. It annoys everyone. 

Don’t feel obliged to read blogs that are sent via mentions or DM or to respond to requests for RTs. 

Try to support new bloggers – not just read what your geeky (predominantly white, male) friends write. (This is an area I should do better on). 

Stop being disappointed by Total Tumbleweed, every time you post your music. Nobody is interested – get over it. 

I can’t imagine Twitter still being the same in five years’ time. I fear it will do a MySpace and self-destruct.  The bubble will burst.  Or will it? Maybe not…. I hope it lasts. How else would we know what’s going on?  

Thanks to everyone reading and following – –  especially to everyone who contributes to making Twitter so interesting. 

Twitter Rules. 

Edu-Twitter Rules OK.  published first on http://ift.tt/2uVElOo

[careergrowthblog]

Edu-Twitter Rules OK. 

I’m writing this reflection as my Twitter account recently passed the 50,000 followers milestone. It’s not something I ever expected to happen;  it doesn’t seem all that long ago when Vic Goddard sent me a tweet saying he was my 50th follower, back in May 2012.  For a long time I’ve been aware that a significant following carries some responsibilities and risks – but mainly it is a great joy. It’s wonderful to be able to connect with so many people. (Yeah, I know, some will be bots but what can you do? And they’re not all personal friends – I know that too). Apart from during holidays and occasional meltdowns when I delete the app from my phone, Twitter is a part of daily life for me.  Some might think that is rather tragic – but, that’s how it is. 

A look at the twitter analytics stats – which I hardly ever do – tells me this:  61% of followers are female, 50% are in 25-34 age group and 82% based in the UK. 

My most liked and RT’d tweet is this: 

1 Epic Fail 2 Disgraceful Fail 3 Dismal Fail 4 Standard Pass 5 Strong Pass 6 Mega Pass 7 Herculean Pass 8 Bionic Pass 9 SuperMassive Pass

— Tom Sherrington (@teacherhead) March 28, 2017

I follow over 3000 people which makes my timeline pretty busy. The advantage is that no one group dominates and it has a random factor which I like. There’s a good mix of education, news, politics, science and bits of fluff. The disadvantage is that you miss things. I’ve found it useful to have a list I call ‘education commentary’ that I keep to 50 members and edit from time to time. I dip in for an update every so often.  https://twitter.com/teacherhead/lists/education-commentary/members 

One of my favourite things about Twitter is the blog sharing. This is the main reason I use it- as a way to share my blogs.  But it’s also a major source of professional learning and I read a lot of blogs and articles every week. Some people are incredibly generous.  I got over the hang-ups about self-promotion long ago. I think of it as sharing. Every time I tweet a link, someone new reads it.  I probably overdo it sometimes – I’m sure I’ve been muted by hundreds – but I’m always grateful to see links from bloggers; there’s no use hiding all those ideas. How else would we know they were there?

Another favourite thing is the sense of community. Particularly now that I’ve met a lot of the people I follow – and nearly all of the people on my commentary list – it really does feel like that. And there are lots more people I’d still love to meet having only connected online.  There is a lot of kindness and support in the Edu-sphere. I’ve had unbelievable personal support over the years – especially the last one. My DM inbox was flooded with kind messages earlier this year which meant a lot. 

There are obviously problems with Twitter too. I’ve learned so much from the exchange of ideas but sometimes I watch in dismay as a ‘debate’ explodes into poisonous acrimony. You need a certain mindset to debate ideas in 140 character snippets without descending into barbed exchanges. Of course tone matters – because we are people.  Some people do this really well, respectfully disagreeing and exchanging views.  Others seem to thrive on the conflict. Personally, I try to avoid it – except maybe very rarely. If you dish it out, you need to be able to take it; that doesn’t always happen. I’m uncomfortable with it not least because you get forced into camps which is something I’m at pains to resist. 

Luckily Twitter has good features for helping manage the environment a little: unfollow, mute, block, and ‘mute this conversation’ which is a godsend. I’ve also set my account so I can’t be tagged into tweets. Blocking is extreme but I have a adopted a zero tolerance approach: if I’m judged, attacked or referenced in a way I don’t like, I block. Simple. Life’s too short. If people offer respectful challenge and ask questions, that’s entirely different. 

I’m sure we all have our own code that we try to follow. Here’s mine: – it’s a list of my personal filters not of puritanical commandments.  I’ll probably break it sometimes – but it’s mine so I’m allowed, even if I disappoint myself. 

Don’t ever swear. It’s a public forum. Students are followers; it looks bad.

Assume people have good intentions even if they say or do things that make your heart sink. 

Try to say things to or about people, in a style you would use to their face. (eg would you hold up someone’s worksheet in front of them and laugh at them saying – OMG, did you really make this pathetic worksheet?) Especially if you might actually meet them.

Avoid actively engaging with anonymous accounts or people with no bio or a photo of themselves. They could be anyone and they are unaccountable. 

Don’t get hung up about giving or expecting replies: sometimes people  are too busy – it’s not personal. 

Don’t criticise individual schools – whatever you read about them in the press, in Ofsted report snippets (which can’t be trusted) or from their twitter opponents – who often have axes to grind. It’s always more complicated and you don’t know the full context.  You’re not helping. Ask questions but don’t just pile in. Schools are always misrepresented – don’t be part of that.

Critique of other institutions is fine – that’s not the same as personal criticism of their encumbent leaders: Ofsted, DFE, unions etc… 

Politicians can be criticised freely for what they do and say. It’s not personal. It’s part of being an MP. Other edu-folk require more sensitivity. It’s different. Where possible direct questions to them, don’t just talk about them. 

Try not to crash weekly chats with hashtagged blog promotions during the chat time period. It annoys everyone. 

Don’t feel obliged to read blogs that are sent via mentions or DM or to respond to requests for RTs. 

Try to support new bloggers – not just read what your geeky (predominantly white, male) friends write. (This is an area I should do better on). 

Stop being disappointed by Total Tumbleweed, every time you post your music. Nobody is interested – get over it. 

I can’t imagine Twitter still being the same in five years’ time. I fear it will do a MySpace and self-destruct.  The bubble will burst.  Or will it? Maybe not…. I hope it lasts. How else would we know what’s going on?  

Thanks to everyone reading and following – –  especially to everyone who contributes to making Twitter so interesting. 

Twitter Rules. 

Edu-Twitter Rules OK.  published first on http://ift.tt/2uVElOo