#too busy and health too poor lol

[drawingcrows]

Hey y'all!

Just popping in to let everyone know that I am currently holding a raffle on exclusively my twitter for my Miku and Gumi acrylic standees! Wow!!!

As stated above, this is available for Twitter users only. So if you'd like to further support me, and wanna try n win one of two adorable standees, this is your chance :D

RAFFLE LINK+INFO

[nappingpaperclip]

does anyone else feel like they’ve never been not stressed out??

like idk…I’ve been chronically stressed since I became conscious. I grew up in an incredibly stressful environment. ever since I moved out I’ve been stressed about school or work or housing or just finding food . There is always something. I’ve never had a break from stress that lasted longer than a day or two. does anyone else relate? what am I supposed to do about this

[blackcatwriter]

Linger (Arthur Morgan x f!reader)

a/n: This is my first actual one shot so I'm super excited to get this out there in our tumblr community! Shout out to my beta reader and editor who prefers to stay anonymous, this post wouldn't exist if it weren't for you.

warnings: angst, slight use of curse words (if you count them), maybe just a tad bit of grammar mistakes, takes place during chap 4 but im taking creative liberties lol, no use of Y/N, use of nicknames

wc: 2.3k (lots of yapping on my end)

summary: After the events of Blackwater, Arthur abandons you. Almost a year passes and you spot him amongst the crowd at the mayor's garden party in St. Denis.

Thanks for reading!

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

Almost a year ago, Arthur Morgan had left you behind in the wake of a heist gone wrong in Blackwater. He had promised to meet with you after the robbery, whispering sweet nothings of the life he wished to share with you within hotel room walls.  However, nothing had gone according to plan when Arthur left Blackwater on the run with the Van Der Linde gang to escape law enforcement. Broken hearted, you were left behind along with your hopes of a new life as collateral damage.  

Now, months later you had started a new life in St. Denis. Your father, who was in poor health and had claimed you were in need of a providing husband, had offered your hand in marriage to that of a wealthy businessman who had been visiting Blackwater from St. Denis.  

Too engulfed in your anguish of being abandoned by the seemingly love of your life, you didn’t fight the arranged marriage and left your home in Blackwater for a new life in the progressive bustling city of Saint Denis.  

You had buried Arthur in the back of your mind and instead devoted your time to new hobbies and skills, spending most of your days sitting in the comfort of your fiancé's two-story manor. Most chores were handled by the maids and servants, leaving you plenty of time to do nothing - which is why you so heavily valued the parties your wealthy neighbors held.  

Tonight, you were wandering around the mayor’s annual garden party while your fiancé stayed behind talking business with his fellow co-workers. It was mostly shallow gossiping between the ladies and meaningless conversations with any other guests. Tonight, you were wearing your newly tailored gown, a deep blue silk dress patterned with black lace trims that perfectly hugged your body to extenuate all the right things. Your hair was tucked into a loosely curled bun with stray strands that came undone from your waltzing around. 

You were on your second glass of champagne when, out of the corner of your eye, you noticed a familiar face standing on the second-floor balcony accompanied by two other men: Arthur Morgan. 

He stood to the side of someone who you presumed to be a fellow member of the Van Der Linde gang he used to run with. Frozen with shock, your glass slipped from your hand and hit the ground with a resounding shatter. Startling the people around you, they moved away as you sheepishly mumbled a “sorry” to the poor servant that would be stuck cleaning your mess. When you looked back up to the balcony, Arthur was no longer there. The man who had been by his side stared down at you as if you had wronged him in another life.  

You fled the scene, preferring to retreat somewhere quieter in the manor to recover from your embarrassment. With your back to the door, you moved to sit by the windowsill of the room you were in. Quiet footsteps sounded against the door as you sighed. “I’m powdering my nose—" Your words failed you as you took in the sight before you. 

The outlaw who broke your heart stood by the door dressed in a suit you were sure he’d never wear again. Closing the door behind him, his eyes never once left yours. “Darlin’,” he grunted, taking in the breathtaking sight that was you. He had traveled across state lines, ran himself out of every saloon in every town he came upon, but he was sure he had never met another view that was as beautiful as you. 

“I...I’m not your darling.” You gripped onto the windowsill behind you with white knuckles. Arthur brushed the stray strands that had rebelled against the pomade Hosea made him apply earlier and looked to your feet—either too guilty or too nervous to meet your eyes any longer. 

“I know, I’m sorry. I wasn’t sure what to call ya’.” Arthur’s face reddened. He fidgeted with his hands and took a small step toward you. “I was just wonderin’ if you were alright. ‘Heard there was a little accident downstairs, and I was wonderin’ if it was you,” he continued. 

It felt as if the walls were closing in on you as he continued talking. When you first came to St. Denis, Arthur had come across your mind more often than you were willing to admit. You’d imagined he would come back to you and beg for you to take him back. You thought you had built a wall tall enough around your heart to not be affected by the sight of him again, but here he was stumbling over his own words, and you felt the same pang in your heart all over again. 

“Arthur, what’re you doing here?” You spoke softly after building the courage to ask. You wish you had the anger in you to slap him, tell him off, anything else than to just stand there bewildered by the sight of him.  “I wish I could say it’s for you, but I’m not,” Arthur sighed. He may have done all kinds of wrong in his life, but he wasn’t a liar—at least not to those closest to him.  

“I’m here with Dutch and a few other of the boys from our gang. We’re scoutin’ out an opportunity for a potential robbery.” He spoke with a tone of shame in his voice. The exact reason he left you in the first place was what lead him back to you. 

“Oh, Arthur. When will enough be enough?” You groaned, pinching your eyebrows together. “You're chasing after a dream that won’t happen! Can’t you see that?” Fueled by the frustration you felt simmering in your heart and the tears welling up in your eyes, you continued, “The old world is gone, Arthur. You’re beating a dead horse.”  

Arthur shook his head in defiance. “Now I know that, but—”  

“But what? The world is changing. If you can’t change with it, then you’re a dead man walking.” You interrupted him and rushed out the room, leaving behind a devastated Arthur. 

He tried following after you but stopped when he saw you talking to a man who he presumed to be your fiancé by the way you held onto his arm. The man nodded to you before you kissed his cheek and left to the front door. Arthur discretely tailed you until he watched you enter a carriage.  

He shouldn’t follow you. Dutch would disapprove of it; he’d tell Arthur to forget about you. You’re happier now, certainly happier than you would be on the run with him. He should go back to the party and collect information to help the gang, but in that moment, he decided you were more important. You had always been the most important person in his eyes and he was a damn fool to have not risked his neck to come back for you in Blackwater.  

Arthur ran out the front gates and whistled for his horse, Boadicea. He jumped on his horse and trailed your carriage from afar. He would’ve certainly been stopped by one of the many outstanding officers of St. Denis on account of suspicious behavior, but most of they were occupied by the party he just left. 

He stopped at the end of the street where your carriage came to a stop and observed you as you walked inside your home. You had clearly been upset in your carriage and Arthur carried a heavy guilt knowing he had been the bastard that left you feeling that way. Hitching his horse, he snuck down the sidewalk and into your backyard.  

You had changed out of your dress and into a plain nightgown. Dismissing your maids, you were left completely alone in your bedroom. Any other woman would be grateful for all that your fiancé provided, yet you couldn’t help but feel as if you were confined to a gilded cage. You sat at your vanity and dried your tears.  

Arthur Morgan had been your greatest weakness since the moment you met him in a saloon in Blackwater. He had been a drunken fool who managed to chase off every woman that night, except you. Where others found offense in his words you found humor. You took care of him that night and was shocked by him showing his appreciation to you the following morning.  

THUD 

THUD 

Shaken from your memories of the past, you yelped at the noise of pebbles hitting the windows of your bedroom. 

THUD 

Scanning your room, you looked around for anything you might use to defend yourself from this mysterious intruder and grabbed a vase. Lugging it out to your balcony, you looked over the railing and saw it was Arthur who was trying to get your attention. Sighing, you couldn’t help but prefer it was someone else trying to murder you.  

“You plan on attacking me with that?” Arthur joked to defuse the tension. His hair was no longer neatly slicked back, but messy as if he had gone horseback riding. Groaning, you placed the vase down.  

“Did you follow me to my home, Arthur Morgan?” You whisper-shouted at him. If any of your servants saw a strange man trying to talk to you from your balcony, he’d be taken away. 

“I wasn’t done with what I had to say to ya’.” He stood firm with his chest out as he looked up to you. “Can I come up...please?” Arthur was scared you’d say no because he knew he’d have no choice but to respect your wishes. Any sane woman should tell him “no” but you weren’t just any woman. 

“You got an awful lot of nerve, Arthur,” you angrily spat. He took this as a sign you’d never let him anywhere near you again, until you continued, “If you can climb up the balcony without breaking your neck, we can talk.” You walked back into your room leaving Arthur grinning like a fool on the ground.  

He carefully climbed the side of your home, using the vines that grew on your walls as a rope to pull himself up. Hoisting himself over the railing, he removed his coattail and bowtie. “You always make your guests enter the hard way?” He shook the tiredness off his bones and followed after you. 

“Just the ones that aren’t welcome.” You retorted, sitting in a chair by your tea set. The evening bordered into nightfall as the air in the city grew colder. “There ain’t nothing left to say, Arthur. You’ve chosen how you want to live what’s left of your life and so I have.” Your face turned stoic as you poured yourself a cup of tea. 

“I haven’t forgotten what I promised you...and it ain’t gonna mean much to ya’ cause you’re a city girl now with everything you ever wanted, but...” Arthur trailed off as he tried finding the right words to tell you what was on his mind. 

You decided against butting in, even though you very much had things you wanted to tell him, like how he was so very wrong. St. Denis had nothing that you wanted. It was suffocating to be amongst such a high-class society. You missed the days where Arthur and you would run away for the night, choosing to retreat in nature as you confessed your vulnerabilities to him and he the same. Or when words weren’t enough to show your affections so you’d rent out a room at some hotel to show him how much you needed him in other ways. 

“I think we’re close to getting out of here. I know I said that back in Blackwater, but I really mean it this time. It’s selfish of me to want to take you from your new life here, but I’ve never been known for being a good man.” He kneeled down in front of where you sat and brought your knuckles to his lips. “What d’ya think of Tahiti?” He grinned. 

“I’d be a fool to believe your sweet words, Arthur.” You whispered, looking down at him with sadness. “You can be a good man, Arthur. Deep down inside I do think you have goodness, but you’re always fighting it. You’re always fighting it and you don’t let it win.” You placed a hand on his cheek and caressed his face. 

“Darlin’...” He buried his face in your lap as you raked your fingers through his hair. “You’re not gonna say yes, are you?” He turned his head to the side, avoiding your gaze. 

Your silence answered his question. He stood up and grabbed his discarded coat.  In truth, you wanted so badly to agree. You wanted to leave with him, but you didn’t trust him enough not to leave you all over again. This time you’d have something to lose. Here you have a fiancé with a legal and stable job. He provided for you. With Arthur, you’d likely spend the rest of your life sleeping on dirt and running from whatever authorities were chasing you. 

Arthur walked to the edge of your balcony with a stormy look in his eyes. “If you change your mind, we’re staying at an abandoned home in Lagras. It’s right outside the city, I’ll be waiting at the bridge at noon just in case.” Too scared to watch him disappear all over again, you kept your back to him as he climbed down your balcony and faded into the distance. 

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

[turbulentscrawl]

Some Body Type HCs

Hey ho!! I'm back (kinda maybe). Life has been really hectic, and frankly I just haven't had time to write much. BUT some of the friends I've made through IDV got me back to drawing, so now I have some headcanons WITH VISUALS for you. I'm putting this under the cut for partial nudity on the drawings.

(You'll have to forgive me for making it small and watermarking the hell out of it. I'm paranoid.)

Aesop

-Pale, and not a lot of body hair. Unlike some of the others, this is normal for him. He has trouble growing facial hair, which is a blessing for him because he hates having it almost as much as he hates having to shave.

-Aesop is averse to several textures, and this causes some issues for him at mealtimes. He's more of a grazer, as far as his eating habits go. He's underweight and a bit malnourished as a result of these, and so he has a slight hour-glass shape.

-He's very hyenic. He hates the feeling of lotion on his skin, but he uses good-quality soaps when he bathes, so his skin is fairly soft.

Emil

-Very hairy. (Full disclosure-this hc of mine was born partially as a spiteful counter to those in the fandom who tend to infantize him) Ada shaves his face and neck for him about once a week, but they don't bother with the rest of his body hair.

-Has quite a but of scarring under all that hair, too. His back, wrists, and legs have the worst of it, from old dog attacks and pulling against restraints.

-Not overly muscular, but he is a little stronger than average in the arms and core from his parkour-like hook maneuvering.

Luchino

-The growth of scales across his body have made his body hair sparse and inconsistent. He will still grow some on his chest and legs, but he shaves it off because he doesn't like the patchiness.

-He's health-conscious and, despite his busy schedule, still finds time to work out. He's muscular and lean due partially to this fact, as well as his ongoing mutations keeping his body fat percentages really low.

-For the same reason, aside from the areas with scale growth, Luchino's skin is well-kept. He uses many lotions and balms to ease the itching of said scales, so his entire body is well-moisturized and has a golden, dewy glow.

Norton

-The tallest survivor.

-Lean and lankey. He's strong, but still bulking up after years of near-starvation, so his muscle mass and body fat seem low.

-Has an average amount of body hair. His chest, legs, and arms all have a fair amount. (his head hair and pubes are much thicker) The burn scars left from the accident have prevented hair growth in certain areas of his body. He grows facial hair reasonably fast and has to shave at least every other week.

Andrew

-One of the tallest survivors.

-Vaguely dorito-shaped with broad shoulders. He's quite strong in general, as a result of years of hard labor like digging and throwing about coffins (and corpses). He has some body hair--but less than average--but it is thin and fine, so difficult to see without being up-close. The hair on his head is a bit thin too, he doesn't have much volume there.

-Very pale (obviously.) It's painfully obvious when he blushes--it goes all the way from his ears, down to his belly.

-He has some faint, scattered scarring just from accidents over the years. Nicking himself on sharp wooden edges, his own shovel, etc.

Luca

-Very thin. Luca hyperfocuses on work and forgets to eat a lot, and was malnourished during his time in prison. He's very physically weak.

-He grows very little body hair, and the hair on his head tends to be thin. Not many people know this, but he has a small bald patch from where he worries and pulls at his hair during moments of frustration.

-Has faint electrical scarring across his shoulders, chest, and back. Always has circles under his eyes due to his poor sleep schedule.

Naib

-Bulky and column-shaped. He's very lean and muscular from years in his various services. One of the shortest survivors (as well as one of the widest lol.)

-Covered in various scars. Life's been rough for him.

-He grows a fair amount of body hair, but he shaves it all off. This is something he does as a "leave-no-trace" sort of precaution for work, rather than as an actual preference. He's considered shaving his head, too, but he is a bit fond of his hair for personal reasons. The hair on his head is thick, but a bit dry. He doesn't always have the chance to use good products.

Victor

(My love for Victor has grown exponentially since I took my unintentional break. You heard it here, folks, I have new favorites. ask me about it lol)

-Has a fairly average, fit body type. He doesn't work out, specifically, but does a LOT of walking, running, and hiking so he's in good-standing with his cardio. He has a very slight softness around his tummy and arms, since his legs do the most of the work.

-Has a t-shirt tan from all his time outside. He's very rosey, too. Isn't that blush adorable?

-Has a very small amount of chest hair, and some on his legs. Similar to Andrew, his body hair is fine and difficult to see. He has trouble growing a beard--much to his holiday displeasure.

[emo-batboy]

i'd like the chart thanks!

Also, there's another person who wants to rp Leo, can they?

Okay a few people are asking for the chart so here’s the current chart!! (I took out some characters that are still not as fleshed out. That includes Nathan, Ria, Nina, Ashley, Zoe, Ray, Maggie, and the hater and Metropolis characters, but they’re all filler characters rn)

A Wild Battinson Character Lore Continuity

- Felicity

- Oldest of the bunch, right between Millennial and Gen Z

- Works at an office, besties with everyone there. Corporate girlie (does use the term girlboss)

- Like if a Gothamite/Bruce Wayne fan was swiftie-coded?

- She has a pet pitbull, you know that kind of white girl

- Tatum

- Goth U, Comp Sci major

- Keeps everyone he knows online at arms length so we don’t know much, has a small close knit friend group irl but he’s also mutuals with everybody on twitter because he’s that kinda guy yk?

- But they’re slowly convincing him. He’s getting there

- Marzia

- Oh god poor Marzia

- Italian, born in Northern Italy, English is her second language but you wouldn’t be able to tell if it weren’t for her slight accent

- Biggest Bruce Wayne stan, will go feral, but only gets replies from him at the worst moments possible

- *snorts like cocaine* “Please don’t do cocaine” is my personal favorite

- Goth U, she gives art major vibes but tacked on a double major in psychology last minute so now she’s staying a fifth year

- Reads smut, writes smut, part of the poetry club, def on booktok, you know the type

- Alejandro

- Runs an ice cream stand in the park on the weekends when it’s warm enough

- Bi, Dating Leo (pfp is them holding hands because he’s a whipped son of a bitch)

- He’s like if that normal-looking kind of athletic guy who always wore sweatshirts and basketball shorts to class just suddenly mentioned he had a boyfriend one day.

- He’s straight-coded but more specifically “the straight guy that gay guys have crushes on against their better judgement”-coded

- Knew the whole time he was bi but never REALLY liked a guy until Leo 🥺. whenever he looks at Leo, he’s got those madly in love eyes

- Thinks Batman is hot and suffers constant torment from Leo (who has a crush on Bruce) because of it

- Ale just wants to be bench pressed is that too much to ask? But It’s his fault he’s a twunk dating a twink so—

- Goth U, Really interested in tech stuff but he’s actually a sports medicine major. He wants to be a physical therapist for athletes

- Cannot hold his liquor

- Smile Watch

- Who knows

- It’s a mystery

- Lela

- Goth Girl

- BFF’s with Nico (goth girl, e-boy solidarity)

- Also good friends with Natalie, they lined up all their gen Ed’s together

- Chill in a Morticia Addams kinda way. She is Morticia Addams actually

- Mom owns a convenience store, she helps out after classes a lot

- Studied for the MCAT, did pretty well, she wants to be a doctor (probably neurosurgeon but it depends on what internship she gets)

- Currently completing the undergrad to grad program at Goth University with a masters in public health

- Natalie

- Former intern, now ASSISTANT at Wayne Press

- Got the job because she impressed Bruce with her good reporting skills, now works mostly on organizing press releases and maintaining Bruce’s public image

- Great at her job because she knows social media and Bruce Wayne Stans the best (she is one obv)

- (Babysits Bruce when Alfred is busy, how did this happen, why is this her job now? She’s tired of his shit lol)

- Still technically working part-time because she hasn’t gotten her degree yet, but she’s set to work full time after she graduates Goth U in May

- Sometimes while sitting at her desk she just gets that perspective shift where she’s like “how did I get here” Bruce Wayne Stans’ dreams do come true

- Caleb 🤡

- Literally 18/19 but aging faster than humanly possible with the stress he’s under

- Used to work at Bat Burger, left because the babysitting gig required more time

- Lives with his aunt who’s already retired (used to live alone, she never had kids or a husband so she’s loaded) He’s staying cuz his parents are super busy and travel for work :) and guess what crime-filled alley their window overlooks? I’ll give you one guess

- Babysits Tim, used to be a less serious gig but his parents have been out of town a lot lately (just vacationing without their child 🙄) and thankfully Caleb lives right across from their swanky apartment so he’s practically a nanny now (read: older sibling/third parent)

- Took a ton of childcare courses for this job and now he’s kind of interested in working at a daycare maybe? If Tim doesn’t kill him in his sleep first

- Recently graduated Goth High, now takes online classes at Goth Community College while deciding what to do with his life

- Jarod

- Recently graduated Goth High, now taking a gap year before starting GothU in the fall. Him and Caleb were always in the same classes so they’re super close (they’re the youngest)

- Future Comp Sci/English major (he wants to be a video game writer)

- Has a younger sister, and technically the oldest child but spiritually he’s the middle child.

- His parents and Priyanka’s parents are close friends so he kind of grew up seeing Priyanka as an older sister. That’s why they’re Like That.

- Literally so fed up with Priyanka, it’s not even funny (yes it is) but the second you’re rude to Priyanka, he will deck you, watch yourself

- Katie (Sweater Thief)

- ER Nurse at Gotham General Hospital, mostly does night shifts

- Gives chronically online energy when she’s online, but everyone in real life wouldn’t suspect a thing because she’s so good at having her life together (the code switch will give you whiplash)

- Surprisingly older than most of the others despite being Like That.

- Literally graduated with a 4.2 GPA how tf?

- BFF’s with Leo then became BFF’s with Ale too after they started dating (she is slowly corrupting Ale and I think that’s beautiful)

- Creator of the Babygirl Bruce Wayne Agenda and PROUD

- Priyanka

- Works at coffee shop owned by her mom called Caffe Mood. She plans to run it one day. Currently a barista

- Goth U, business major (accounting)

- Bilingual, knows Hindi

- LESBIAN QUEEN

- Despite being gay, She is allowed to think Bruce Wayne is hot, that is her Right

- Mad fucking crush on Georgia, calls her Georgie. Intends to never tell a soul. Will fail miserably

- Dead fucking set on the idea that Batman’s a vampire

- But she thinks everyone’s a vampire so—

- Her parents and Jarod’s parents are close friends so she kind of grew up seeing Jarod as a younger brother. That’s why they’re Like That

- Jarod is constantly on her nerves, wtf Jarod (but be mean to him and she’ll kill you)

- Leo

- Works at bookstore called Gotham City Bookstore

- Gay, Dating Alejandro

- Twink (derogatory)

- Swears his gaydar is the most accurate there is (always wrong)

- Made being gay his entire personality because he had an identity crisis in middle school and proceeded to have a massive crush on some straight guy all of high school (that guy was Ale, Leo’s gaydar is so off)

- BFF’s with Katie despite being a few years younger. They were in a high school production of Sweeney Todd together and the rest was history

- Calls every single celebrity gay as a joke, Ale reigns him in if he’s getting too out of hand

- Used to have a mad celebrity crush on Bruce, still kinda (definitely) does

- Attends GothU, undecided for a while but ultimately settled on mathematics because it’s ironically his best subject

- One of those mf’s that needs to be held back at all costs, god help Ale

- Rose 🌹

- Works a tailoring job full time

- Good friends with Felicity, she’s like the black cat to Felicity’s golden retriever

- 70% super nice and chill, 30% wild card party girl

- Gets drinks with friends a lot, tweets when drunk but no one can tell the difference. It’s amazing

- Does not seem horny, is horny. But like normal about it? If that’s a thing

- Nico

- Kinda plays the straight man of the group if the straight man was emo

- BFF’s with Lela (e-boy, goth girl solidarity)

- KING of twitter roasts. He makes memes to end lives.

- Pansexual, single, and probably writing bad poetry in his diary about it but don’t tell anyone

- Goth U, actually dunno the major. Probs public health with Lela but doesn’t want to be a doctor. More like research parallel to social sciences

- Has a 8/9yo sister named Madelaine whom he would die for despite not expecting to be an older brother so late in the game (what were his parents thinking)

- Has tea parties with her and all that jazz. She steals his eyeliner and chain accessories all the time, also she’s friends with Dick and Barbie (yes, Barbara Gordon) so sometimes he watches over their play dates

- He’s a “tough emo boy” so he totally doesn’t laugh at Madelaine’s puns. He’s a bitch ass liar

- Kellyanne

- GothU, marine biology. Transferred from GCCC with an associates degree to save money but now she’s got a full ride cuz of the WE higher education fund

- More recent Bruce Stan

- Pretty poor upbringing, that’s how she met Bruce Wayne. He bought her whole family groceries one night after her card declined at the convenience store trying to buy dinner

- Now she’s in it for the long haul :)

- Lia

- GothU, fashion merchandising

- A GIRL’S GIRL

- Older sister also attends Goth U, but she’s in med school

- More recent Bruce Wayne stan, still not particularly in with the culture and jokes but getting there

- Friends with Georgia and Elizabeth irl. Elizabeth was in the same sorority before graduating first. Got to know Georgia after Lia found her dog with Bruce at the park outside GothU. They party together now

- Elizabeth

- Graduated GothU last May and worked an internship at LexCorp, immediately regretted it but snagged a job at WE (thank god)

- Now works as a research assistant at Wayne Tech in the R&D department for commercial products

- Didn’t really get the whole Bruce Wayne Stan thing until Bruce Wayne personally wished her a happy birthday?? The man is so sweet?

- Absolutely loves her job but still screams at rubber ducks over faulty code in her little cubicle, but that’s the industry she chose so it’s a give and take

- Met Natalie through Stan twitter and now they DM each other about working at Wayne Enterprises

- Doesn’t post much on twitter but follows the main Bruce Stan accounts, irl friends with Lia and Georgia

- Georgia

- Has a dog named Bean

- GothU, majoring in like three languages, polyglot (including Hindi 😏)

- Works at a retail home decor kinda store (home goods?)

- So lesbian-coded, but does not know it yet. Priyanka is her gay awakening. She is now a regular at Caffe Mood (She thinks she just likes the coffee (yeah right))

- Works at Goth U’s admissions department over the summer too

- Once got drunk and locked herself onto a roof by accident, ended up hanging out with Batman (he offered to break into her apartment for her but she said “nah”)

- Jane

- Works at Wayne Enterprises

- Runs bring your kid to work day (idk what her actual job is but she’s an Essential Worker, okay?)

- Very sweet, 10/10, looks on the bright side but never in a toxic positivity way

- Super social too, became work friends with Bruce because she’s nice but not draining to his social battery? They have lunch on occasion

- Watched the Graysons die with Bruce, call that trauma bonding

- Watched her toxic ex’s car burn to a crisp after a joker spree and took a selfie with it (she can have a little revenge, as a treat)

[kennytheworkingclasshero]

thoughts in dikinbaus, this is for homework

I'm in two minds when it comes to the episode DikinBaus Hot Dog. At first glance, I took it as commentary on "this generations" attitude towards work and how the creators think it's stupid. To me, they were essentially calling mental health days, regular breaks and the ability to work from home stupid and entitled. When really, workers are finally putting their foot down and realising they deserve more for their labour and shouldn't have to kill themselves for a living. Especially coming from two people whose joint net worth is estimated at $1,300 million and have been doing what they love for work since 1997 (where they are their own bosses). Not only that, Case Bonita workers have also called for unionisation due to their treatment and working conditions so, all in all, it wasn't a good look.

However, when you look deeper (or look for something justifiable in the episode, lol), it could be a commentary on the exploitation of the working class. Even though Butters doesn't come from a working class family like Kenny does, in the episode he is putting in the hours to fund the restaurant. Then when Cartman, the owner, is too lazy to see it to completion, Butters is the one to open and work at the restaurant in order to make his own money back. This could be interpreted as workers holding up business and CEOs/owners taking advantage and reaping the benefits, like Cartman himself says in the beginning of the episode, "You know what's total bullcrap, Butters? It's how much money the owner of this place is making while we're out here busting our asses. I mean, what does that old fart even do?"

I'm not really sure what Kenny's role is here, I also think it's to show exploitation of some kind, but I don't know if I'm reaching. Cartman goes to Kenny because he know's he's the only one from the other 3 who will go along with this plan. Kenny is hesitant at first, asking "Why the fuck would we open a restaurant?" and Cartman appeals to the fact that Kenny is poor, asking "Aren't you sick of living like this, Kenny?" and looking around Kenny's house that isn't shown in the best condition. He carries on his classist rhetoric when they meet with Butters at the bank, "look at Kenny. Can you imagine what it's like for him watching rich white boys like you just collecting paycheck after paycheck, while he wallows in the filth of his tiny house?" Kenny is rightfully offended, but he doesn't deny or stop it. He is falling for what Cartman is laying down.

So to sum up: I think some of the episode's commentary is bad and out of touch and I think some of it makes sense, but one thing I always love to watch; Cartman getting what's coming to him.

[bloopitynoot]

Reading TGCF: Chapter Twenty-Six

For those who don't know, I am reading TGCF for the first time and sharing my thoughts!

If you have not read it, there will be spoilers! Consider this a warning.

Also- if you want to follow along, I am aiming to post updates daily. You can find all the posts in the tag Bloopitynoot reads TGCF. You can also check out the intro post for context on my read BUT if you followed along with my SVSSS read, the rules and vibe are the same.

Today is a day for comfort and soft things. I've declared it, so it is LOL. If you are reading this you are legally obligated to do something nice for yourself.

This latte is brought to you by my partner <3

Let's go chapter 26!!!!!

Okay, so Mu Qing DID reach out and pass on the message. (he did sort of a shit job, but he DID do it). The guys who were supposed to pay attention were just busy doing illicit temple things. p311

Not related to this story at all, but the significance of the ritual in this story really made me think about how different cultures approach auspicious ceremonies. The one that came to mind for me (my family is from Sicily, and some- married in- from Sardinia) is Mamuthones of Mamoiada a Sardinian practice. Definitely not as beautiful as the parade here, but the vibe is essentially the same; using ceremony to chase negativity in preparation for a good year. I just think it's so cool that different places in the world all have their own way of handling luck. p315

This guy (Xie Lian) is a mess. 1. only 3 passes so already starting rough. 2. the divine outfit is filthy. 3. bro lost his earing too. p319

The tension between Mu Qing and Feng Xin is far too much! If these two don't become lovers, I swear. p320

What a wild translation, "No, no. You promise me right now that this stops here. Otherwise, I'll break up my relationship with you, and you'll be cursed to never find a wife!" p326

:( Everyone bullying Mu Qing. No wonder this man is moody as hell. p230

Qi Rong; an absolute menace behind the wheel. Someone needs to get this man in a mafia au. p335

oof. MXTX just casually tossing this trauma out there. The fact that Xie Lian went from being a picky eater to literally eating trash just hits me in the heart. p337

I feel like half the characters in this series need mental health support. Poor Qi Rong honestly, this kid was struggling from day 1. p339

My heart! If this is the same bandaged boy in the present, this kid has been through too much! p345

Hong's little "ugly" broke my soul. p349

This is so wild to me that they want to punish Feng Xin for doing his literal job. p353

adds "daddy issues" to Xie Lian's chart. p355

Jeeze. Qi Rong's parents story to. No wonder this kid is unwell. p358

oooo! Hong LYING about his home. Mu Qing dropping the truth and calling this kid out. Why the last sentence of the chapter though!

Once again we are left at a critical point.

I need to know this little man's story. Why is he so small, how is it that he basically cannot die, what are they plotting????

Can yall believe there is 1 more chapter (I think 1 maybe 2) left of book two!?!?!?

[j0kers-light]

Okay that head canon about y/n getting sick and J worrying over her was precious 🥹 What if the tables were turned and J got bad sick and refused to take care of himself?

-🍄

My beloved 🍄 anon!! How I have missed you!

You stay providing me with amazing ideas! sick!reader was fun to write! So let’s explore a sick!Joker! This big baby… I’m gonna have fun with this one. 🖤✨as always enjoy enjoy!!

Joker does not get sick. He is far too busy to be bogged down with such a trivial thing as germs. Who do they think they are anyway?

Sure he's not superhuman but you would think all that time spent messing with chemicals and stuff would make him immune?

NOPE! Baby boy gets hit with the common cold and he’s out for weeks. It’s almost funny if not for the fact that Joker fighting for his life.

If only Batman knew a common cold could have J waving a white flag. 🥴

Unlike you Joker accepts rather quickly that he's sick and needs to sit his butt down somewhere.

That doesn't mean that decision is instantaneous. He ignores minor symptoms too. 🙄🙄

Like an itchy throat, watery eyes, a splitting headache. HE'S FINE. Joker powers through as if nothing is wrong. 👀 (sound familiar?)

Frost is the first to raise an eyebrow as the days progress and Joker doesn’t improve. He hints that J might be coming down with something only to be ignored. Frost tried to warn him.. 🤦🏾‍♀️

Just imagine Joker hosting a meeting like mid theatric speech and suddenly.. he sneezes.

Mac secretly took a video to send to you later because Joker looked too cute!

Joker and just about everyone in attendance was shocked at the comical (and adorable) sneeze that comes out this scary man.

👁️ 👄 👁️ them goons were shooketh girl lol

Joker threatens to murder anyone if they laugh but a snicker does escape when J sneezes again and almost bangs his head against the table (I'm fighting back tears anon! 🤣)

One glance at Frost has the meeting adjourned because they gotta drop Joker off at your place. He can't terrorize Gotham City like this!

That poor baby is a mess! Joker is sweating through his greasepaint, his nose is running like Usain Bolt, and he swears that Bane is punching him in the head. 😀 yup he’s sick.

It's time to go when Joker passes out in front of Frost, Mac, and Neo after one sneeze too many.

There's only one person they trust to look after Joker. Are you up for the challenge?

Frost is a big guy, but even he is struggling to carry Joker into your apartment. He called earlier explaining that Joker wasn't feeling too well so you left the front door unlocked.

You thought that meant Joker got hurt while out being a menace to society. That you could deal with. Some bandaids and a proper scolding, always did the trick.

You weren’t expecting Frost to dump your semi-unconscious lover onto your couch like a sack of potatoes. Joker looks almost unrecognizable and you fear the worst seeing how weak he is.

His hooded eyes take you in and a groggy, "Bunny.... I'm dying!" escapes his lips before you lock eyes with Frost.

"He has a cold."

😀 Lawd help us. If you thought Joker was a drama queen before Chile.. This grown man acts like a child staying home from school with pneumonia rather than a cold.

J has transformed himself into a blanket burrito with only his freckled face exposed. And he look so pitiful.

He can't breathe out of his nose anymore which has turned scarlet red since he doesn't use the tissues you bought him, (you yell at him to stop using his sleeves!) and he takes random naps as his immune system tries to fight off this infection. It’s doing a terrible job.

A common cold last a few days at most. A full week and a half later, and Joker is still in the trenches.

This is when you start to worry and take his illness more seriously.

Feed a cold, starve a fever so you work overtime to nurse your man back to health. You prepare the best homemade soups, arrange all the tv marathons J could ever want, you even sneak him medicine with tried and true motherly tactics.

J refused to take medicine so you cave and buy him jello, applesauce, pudding etc. as a compromise.

Little does he know, you crushed the pills inside 🤫 In short, you watch over Joker like a hawk.

He orders you to stay away stating, 'he doesn't want his Bunny getting sick' but in the same breath, he makes you cuddle with him on the couch. J falls asleep using you as his personal teddy bear and you are totally okay with that.

Anything to help him sleep and recover faster.

The worst phase comes along when you wrestle out of Joker’s arms to grab the thermometer, and his voice stops you in your tracks.

"Ma? Is... is that you?"

Joker is delirious and you shouldn't take advantage of him when he's so out of it but what's the harm in feeding into his delulu? Its not like he'll remember anyway..

You weakly smile and reply. "Hush baby, I'll be right back."

J begins another coughing fit and has air remaining to steal yours with a single sentence. "No, I don't wanna be alone."

He sounds so weak, like a child confessing their worst fears to an adult. What kind of person can ignore a plea like that? You can't that’s for sure.

You’ll check his temperature later. Right now, Joker needs you. You crawl back into Joker's arms and he immediately wraps them around you.

"Don't... l-leave." His voice is breaking your heart, he sounds so scared!

You smooth J’s hair away to cup his face. You washed away all the harsh makeup and sweat days ago so you’re free to admire his natural beauty in all its glory.

Even fighting a cold, he's so handsome looking up at you with those glassy eyes of his. You doubt he recognizes you right now. Only you are allowed to see Joker so vulnerable.

Only you can take care of him and it’s an honor you’ll never take for granted.

"I’m not going anywhere." You promise.

[oliversrarebooks]

The amount I would like to see Jameson and Alex have a high society slap fight is more than a little lol

Masterlist

March 1920

tw: mind control, captivity, references to abuse

"Good evening, Lord Alexander!" said Miriam as she opened the door, beckoning him inside nervously.

"Good evening, Miriam. You seem agitated -- is everything all right?"

Miriam sighed with a smile. "Madam's overworking herself again, sir. It's not my place to overstep as her thrall, but I'm concerned about her health. I'm glad you came to call. She listens to you, sir."

"Do you really believe that? I don't," said Lex, chuckling. "Regardless, I don't think you're overstepping. I think it's very good for you to care for your madam. Lily needs people looking out for her."

Miriam beamed like she'd won the lottery. "Thank you, sir."

Lex allowed Miriam to lead him into the parlor. He was quite fond of Lily's latest thrall. She had remained sharp under the enthrallment so far -- no surprise, given how skilled Lily was at her craft. A good sign for her future, he thought.

"Oh, Lex, there you are," said Lily, who was lounging in an undignified manner on the couch, surrounded by magazines and bits of yarn and fabric. "I'm glad you were able to pull yourself out of your book-cave long enough to come calling. I've been drowning in work lately, and I need someone to socialize with who isn't a thrall I'm hypnotizing, or I might lose my own mind."

"Rough week, then," he said, settling down in a plush chair. Nearby, Miriam sat down in a chair in the corner, taking up an embroidery project.

"It's been one thing after another. I think the long winter has given everyone cabin fever, and they've all collectively decided that they're dissatisfied with their perfectly functional thralls. You won't believe what I've had to put up with." 

"Such as?" Lex leaned in.

"The most ridiculous complaints. 'He taps his foot while he reads.' 'She turns the radio on too loud.' As though they need me to solve that," she said with a frustrated groan. "The worst one was 'his human food smells bad.' I turned him away -- 'sorry, sir, I can't do anything about the fact that your human thrall requires human food.'"

Miriam made a strange noise of distress.

"What is it?" Lily asked.

"Does my human food smell bad?"

"Oh, no, of course not! You haven't done a thing wrong, Miriam. It's the vampires who are being unreasonable."

"It's awful that they treat their thralls like that," said Lex. "What ever happened to treating your thralls with dignity?"

"Exactly, you understand. Speaking of which -- " Whatever Lily was about to say was cut off by the doorbell ringing. "Oh, for crying out loud, who could that be? I cleared my schedule today."

Lex, having an uneasy feeling about this, followed Lily to the door, and was none too happy to see the perturbed visage of Jameson, a vampire he truly despised. He was gripping a smaller man by the shoulders, an unfortunate thrall who had clearly been crying.

"And what do you want?" said Lily bluntly.

"Is that any way to treat a customer?" he said.

"You're not a customer until you tell me what you want and I agree to it," she said. "And in case you didn't know, asking me to work on such short notice will cost you an extra 20%."

"I'm aware," he said. "I'm at my wit's end with this thrall. He's supposed to be fully mindwiped, but he keeps sniffling and making the most obnoxious whining noises."

"What on earth did you do to that poor man?" asked Lex. He'd never been able to stand the company of vampires who preferred their thralls to be little better than cattle, especially if the vampire in question abused their innocent humans. That dislike was mutual -- vampires like Jameson rarely mingled with those like Lex who believed they had an obligation to give their thralls a good life.

Jameson scowled at Lex. "It's none of your business, is it? I'm here to make a business transaction with Miss Lily and certainly not with you."

"Fine," she said with an annoyed huff. "Let me see your thrall. You can sit in the parlor until I'm done."

The thrall's eyes held a spark of recognition when he looked at Lily. Considering what a thorough job she did with the mindwipes -- preferring not to have to do it twice, and trying to minimize the thrall's suffering -- he must have been under a lot of stress to wake up enough to regain memories. Damn that Jameson.

No doubt, Jameson would rather not deal with Lily at all, but although he was in possession of a strong vampiric aura, his enthralling abilities were known to be below average. He had no choice but to hire an expert to work with his thralls, lest he destroy their minds utterly and leave himself responsible for a comatose bloodbag.

As Lily took the thrall into her workroom, Jameson sat down in the parlor with a sour look on his face. In her corner, Miriam was staring at him with a haunted expression. Lex wasn't sure if she actually knew Jameson, or if she saw how he treated his thrall and rightfully regarded him as a threat. He gave the poor girl a look as if she were lower than a bug, and she shrank further into her seat.

The humane and sympathetic thing to do would be to send Miriam out of the room until Jameson left. But Lex, annoyed at Jameson's rotten attitude and the interruption of his social call, couldn't help but do something a bit petty that he knew would annoy the other vampire.

He pulled up a chair next to Miriam. "This embroidery you're working on is very intricate. Can you show me your work?"

Miriam smiled. At least she seemed comforted by having Lex nearby, distracting her from the vampire glaring daggers at her. "Oh, yes, sir, of course," she said, showing him the pattern she'd carefully cut from a magazine. "It's a skirt with flowers and birds all up and down it. The original pattern has green leaves and blue birds, but I had this lovely rust-colored fabric to use, and I thought it would go very well with autumn leaves and red birds, like cardinals."

"You have a good eye for color, Miriam, and it's coming along splendidly," said Lex.

"Thank you, sir, I truly appreciate that!"

"Hmph." Jameson sniffed.

"Is there some problem?" said Lex.

"I just think it's a terrible shame that a vampire so gifted with conditioning chooses to keep her thrall in such disgraceful condition," he said, with a pointed glance to Miriam, who clutched Lex's arm fearfully. "She could easily erase her thralls and keep them in a far more agreeable state where they don't require entertainment or attention, and yet, she chooses this. You'd think her sire would have taught her better."

Miriam gripped Lex's arm hard enough to hurt, and Lex regretted that he'd provoked Jameson instead of sending her out. "Sir -- if I displease you --"

"You haven't displeased anyone, Miriam," Lex said, patting her hand in a comforting gesture. "You're an excellent thrall, and your madam also thinks so. She tells me all the time. You don't need to listen to what Lord Jameson says."

"Of course you'd think that," said Jameson. "That's about what I'd expect from a thrall-screwer."

Lex glared at Jameson with a simmering rage. "I'd suggest you be quiet, lest you say something you'll regret."

"Why would I regret speaking the truth?" said Jameson. "We all know you fell for that nasty little blond thing. A revolting thrall, and no better as a vampire, if you ask me."

Lex's temper flared. He was obviously baiting Lex for a confrontation, looking to stir shit for his own amusement. Lex really should ignore the meaningless squawking of an ignorant asshole just trying to get a rise out of him.

Instead, he stood from his chair, crossed the parlor in a flash, and slapped Jameson across the face as hard as he could. 

Jameson looked stunned for a moment, the bright red mark emblazoned across his cheek, then started to laugh. "And I thought you considered yourself civilized! Well, if that's how you like it..." There was a flash in his eyes as he flared his vampiric aura, and Lex could feel it, like rodents skittering along his limbs and gnawing at his flesh, like a thousand beady red eyes boring into him. The sensation made the hair on the back of Lex's neck stand up.

It was an aura that could easily subdue a lesser vampire, but Lex hadn't survived this long in this city by allowing any upstart vampire to best him, especially with his honor at stake. He took a deep breath, pushing his own aura outward in an inexorable wave. He was a storm on the ocean, waves and surf pounding, wooden ship cracking beneath your feet, the feeling of being pulled down into the dark and briny depths with no hope of escape.

Jameson furrowed his brow and intensified his efforts, but this was a battle he could not win, and it was so satisfying when his facade cracked and he showed his first sign of fear --

-- at least until both of them were swept off their feet by an even more powerful force of will.

"Hey!" Lily bellowed from the doorway. "What the devil do you two think you're doing?"

Lex looked at her sheepishly, not wanting to admit he'd been having a pointless tussle with with her customer. Jameson primarily looked annoyed that their fight had been interrupted.

"You two were laying it on so thick that I could feel your auras in my workroom. I don't know how you expect me to put a thrall under in those conditions." She went to comfort Miriam, who clung onto her skirt. "And you've upset my Miriam."

"Sorry, Lily," said Lex, and mostly meant it. At least, he did very much regret upsetting Miriam, who didn't deserve to be caught in this crossfire at all.

Lily sighed. "Lex, take Miriam to the kitchen and help her calm down," she said. "And as for you, Lord Jameson, you will sit quietly until my work is done, and I'm tacking on a surcharge for that little outburst."

"You can't be serious," he said, slamming his hands on the table. "It was Lord Alexander who --"

"Then you're free to take your thrall and leave."

Jameson settled back down onto the couch with a huff, like a petulant child. "Fine. Do what you will."

With that settled, Lex ushered a still-frightened Miriam into the kitchen as Lily returned to her work. "I'm sorry for being so sensitive, sir," she said.

"Don't be, not at all. I'm sorry for provoking that rat Jameson." He handed Miriam a handkerchief, which she used to wipe tears from her eyes. "You can relax here. He won't bother you any more. Now, is there any kind of snack you might like?"

"Sir, you don't need to --"

"It's my pleasure. The least I can do." He pulled out a chair and beckoned her to sit. "What would you like?"

"May I have strawberries with sugar, sir?"

"Certainly," he said, relieved that she asked for a dish he knew how to prepare, his knowledge of human cooking spotty at best. He found the fresh strawberries in the icebox, and made quick work of cutting them up and sprinkling them with sugar. 

Miriam's eyes lit up as she dug into the  sweet berries. "Thank you very much, sir!"

Lex settled down into the chair across from her as she ate. She was still a fairly bright thrall, but he knew that his sire would have her in his sights sooner rather than later. Lily would wipe her memories of the trauma, and her deterioration would begin. A slow moving tragedy, one he'd seen play out quite a few times by now.

Even so, she was certainly in a better position than that man in Lily's workshop. Her re-enthrallment of him would no doubt be a mercy compared to being lucid in Jameson's grasp.

What must it be like...?

He pushed the errant thought from his mind, not wanting to stir up dusty memories of his own enthrallment, so many years ago now.

Masterlist

@d-cs @latenightcupsofcoffee @thecyrulik @dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night @wanderinggoblin @whumpyourdamnpears @only-shadows-dwell-where-we-are @pressedpenn @pigeonwhumps @amusedmuralist @xx-adam-xx @ivycloak @irregular-book @whumpsoda @mj-or-say10 @pokemaniacgemini @whumpshaped @whumpsday @morning-star-whump @shinyotachi @silly-scroimblo-skrunkl @steh-lar-uh-nuhs @pirefyrelight @theauthorintraining @whump-me-all-night-long @anonfromcanada @typewrittenfangs @tessellated-sunl1ght @cleverinsidejoke @abirbable @ichorousambrosia @a-formless-entity @gobbo-king @writinggremlin @the-agency-archives @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @enigmawriteswhump @foresttheblep @bottlecapreader @whump-on-a-string @whumpinthepot

[shion-yu]

A Safe Place (part 3) [day 18]

A feverish Cliff is seen in the emergency room. For @monthofsick Day 18 “Unfamiliar surroundings”. 2,965 words, original work, TWs emeto, hospital content.

Part 1 | Part 2 - I swear this was supposed to be 2 parts but now it’s gonna be 4? Lol whoops.

Elliot supported Cliff into the busy ER. It was a Saturday, of course there were a lot of people there, Elliot thought regretfully. Silly to hope otherwise. Elliot eased Cliff into a seat as close to the reception desk as possible and then checked Cliff in, presenting Cliff’s ID and health insurance card. He was grateful Cliff’s wallet and phone were the two things his boyfriend had actually brought with him when he left his parents’ house, although a jacket and his inhaler would have been useful third and fourth choices.

“What’s this visit for?” The receptionist asked after scanning the cards and handing them back to Elliot.

“My boyfriend is having trouble breathing,” Elliot said, hoping this concerned her as much as it concerned him. “He has asthma, he’s wheezing, and he has a high fever. He didn’t know who I was earlier.”

The receptionist stood up a little to catch a glimpse of Cliff in his seat, who did look like he was struggling. “Okay, we’ll get him triaged as soon as possible,” the receptionist said. Elliot chose to believe her for his own sanity’s sake. “In the meantime, have him wear a mask.”

Cliff sagged against Elliot when Elliot sat next to him. He was in no shape to do paperwork, so Elliot tried to fill it out as much as he could. Fifteen minutes passed. Cliff was whimpering in pain and his wheeze had grown louder. “Just a few more minutes, Cliffy,” Elliot said, hoping it wasn’t a lie. Thirty minutes passed. Cliff was now insisting he was fine after all, and that they ought to go home. But that was when he was lucid, which would last only a minute before he’d follow up by saying something that made very little sense and reminded Elliot exactly why they couldn’t leave. Finally, about forty minutes after they’d checked in, a nurse called Cliff’s name and brought them to a small room between the waiting room and the actual ER. Elliot repeated the story he’d given the receptionist although more aggressively this time as the nurse nodded and took Cliff’s vitals.

Elliot never wanted Cliff to be so sick. However, his vitals did prompt some action and for that Elliot was grateful. Cliff’s fever was 103.5 now, his oxygen running lower than expected at 92%, and his heart rate and blood pressure were both high. The nurse led them to a stretcher in a curtained off bay and told Cliff to change into a gown. Elliot had to help Cliff climb up, his boyfriend’s coordination poor. His hands were shaking too hard to button his own gown up, so Elliot did it for him.

“Don’t feel good,” Cliff mumbled, swaying even as he sat up on the stretcher.

“I know, just lie back,” Elliot said. “They’re gonna help you.”

Thankfully, this time they only waited about ten minutes before a new nurse came in with a small bucket full of supplies. She introduced herself as Anna and said she was going to insert an IV, take some blood, and hook Cliff up to oxygen and fluids. She was also going to swab Cliff for flu and strep, but Elliot explained the urgent care had already done that. “Well, this tests for some other stuff too, it’s a full respiratory panel. I’d recommend we just do it anyways.” Elliot agreed on Cliff’s behalf; Cliff seemed to be communicating only in nods at this point.

Nurse Anna looped some oxygen tubing over Cliff’s ears first and plugged it into the wall. She also attached a blood pressure cuff and oxygen probe that she said would stay on for now for monitoring. Elliot felt like all the devices only made Cliff look sicker. Anna swabbed Cliff’s nose, which made him cough harshly to the point of gagging, and then got ready to insert an IV.

Cliff looked to Elliot in panic, swallowing rapidly. ‘Faint,’ he mouthed to Elliot helplessly. “Um, I think he passes out when there’s needles,” Elliot spoke up for him. Cliff nodded gratefully.

“Well you’re in the right place if you do,” Nurse Anna said. She lowered the head of the stretcher and told Elliot to hold Cliff’s hand as she looked for a vein in his other arm. “I’ll go super quick,” she reassured them, and she was right. It was quick. But Cliff turned sheet white and got really sweaty and by the time she’d collected enough tubes of blood, flushed and secured the hub and hooked him up to a bag of fluids, Cliff was barely conscious. “Don’t worry, it happens,” she said. She put a pillow under Cliff’s legs and told him to breathe deeply through his nose. Elliot found her calm demeanor the only thing keeping him calm, because it seemed terrifying even if it was normal. Cliff followed her directions and eventually gained some color back. Anna said his blood pressure was coming back up and that he should just lie there with his feet up for a few more minutes, then left the room.

“I’m sorry,” Cliff apologized miserably for the tenth time since they’d come back here.

“Baby, please, stop apologizing,” Elliot told him. “You’re here because you have to be and you’re not doing anything bad or wrong. Just rest.”

Cliff’s eyes filled with tears and he covered them with his forearm. “I suck,” he whimpered, Elliot’s words clearly not having reached him as intended. Elliot sighed and put one hand on Cliff’s head to stroke his sweaty hair. It wasn’t worth fighting Cliff on this right now. Elliot just had to be there for him.

Cliff fell asleep to Elliot’s relief. Elliot texted his mom what was going on and hoped this wasn’t as bad as it felt. Cliff snored quietly until a woman came with a huge portable x-ray machine. “Sorry to wake you up,” she said, “Cliff? I’m here to get your x-ray. I’ll go fast.”

Cliff opened his eyes and stared blankly at her. Elliot wasn’t sure if Cliff knew what was going on at this point so he stroked Cliff’s arms and explained, “Cliff? She’s gonna take the pictures of your lungs now.” He helped the x-ray tech manipulate Cliff’s torso so that he was lying on a hard board. Elliot stood in the doorway while they did the films.

“Alright, take a nice deep breath for me and hold it,” the x-ray tech said. “I know, good job, got it. You can cough.” And cough Cliff did, that same desperate wet cough that had made Elliot’s mind up to bring him here. He managed to catch his breath, but it wasn’t over. “One more,” the tech said, moving the boards and machine around to point at Cliff’s side now. “Again. Deep breath. One, two, and good. Let it out.”

This time Cliff didn’t seem able to stop coughing. He coughed until each gasp sounded like a Herculean struggle and Elliot wasn’t sure that any of that air he was gulping in was actually reaching his lungs. The machine that was measuring Cliff’s oxygen levels started to beep and the tech told Elliot she was going to find the nurse. Elliot held on to Cliff and tried to soothe him, but it didn’t seem to work. Cliff just kept coughing until suddenly his eyes flew open and he spewed a sharp wave of vomit from his mouth all the way to the end of the stretcher. Elliot winced, pulling back and trying not to look at the mess. Cliff spluttered and coughed between additional harsh gags that produced little besides a stream of thick brown saliva that pooled in his lap. Elliot prayed the nurse would come in soon and hesitantly rubbed Cliff’s back. He didn’t know what to do and Cliff seemed frozen, unable to lift his head or close his mouth.

Thankfully the nurse showed up then and said, “Oh no!” Oh no was right, Elliot thought anxiously. “Did we just get coughing too hard?” She glanced at Cliff's oxygen levels and turned a small green dial on the wall, which made a quiet hissing noise for a second as the flow of oxygen increased. “Don’t worry hun, we’re going to get you cleaned up.” She found a change of sheets in one of the cupboards behind the stretcher and changed the blankets and top sheet in record time. She checked Cliff’s fluids which were nearly done and then charted standing in the room for a few minutes on her rolling computer.

Cliff was silent, hunched over holding a pink plastic basin in his lap in case of another incident, and Elliot couldn’t tell if he was just out of it or humiliated. The room still smelled of putrid stomach acid; Elliot breathed through his mouth. His phone dinged in his pocket and he saw an alarmed text from his mother. He didn’t have time to reply though, as the doctor walked in at that moment.

“Doctor Jim,” Anna greeted him politely, scooting her computer farther away from the bedside. “He just threw up coughing and I turned up his oxygen.”

“I’m not surprised,” Dr. Jim said. He looked to be in about his forties, was mostly bald and had tiny round glasses that looked too small for his face. “Cliff? I’m Jim, I’m a physician here. How are you doing today?”

Elliot thought that was a stupid question. Cliff looked at Dr. Jim with hazy eyes and mumbled, “Sick.”

“Well, that makes sense. You’ve got yourself a nasty case of double pneumonia,” Dr. Jim said. Elliot’s heart sank. “Has this ever happened to you before?”

Cliff shook his head no. He moved his hand to the edge of the bed that Elliot understood as a silent signal to hold it, which he did. “Well, I think it’s best if we admit you for observation overnight with the vitals you have. I’m going to order two IV antibiotics and some steroids, try and get that swelling down in your lungs and hopefully you’ll be feeling better in no time. How’s that sound?”

Cliff didn’t answer. “That sounds fine,” Elliot said, squeezing Cliff’s hand. “Can I stay with him?”

“Once we move him to the floor, visiting hours are eight to eight,” Dr. Jim said. “But you can stay with him for as long as he’s in the ER.” He turned to Anna and gave a few other orders for Zofran, Tylenol, albuterol and budesonide treatments. It all seemed so casual to them, but Elliot was still disturbed by how sick Cliff looked and seemed to him.

Dr. Jim physically examined Cliff next. Cliff shuddered and Dr. Jim apologized for his cold hands, but Elliot knew that the temperature hadn’t had anything to do with it. He hummed a lot, wrote down some notes, and then left with a “Hope you feel better soon.” Elliot wondered if he told all his patients that, or just the ones who could actually get better soon. Nurse Anna also excused herself to get the ordered medications, leaving Elliot alone with Cliff once again.

“So… pneumonia. That sounds pretty bad,” Elliot said. “Why didn’t you tell me you felt so sick?”

“You were at work. I didn’t want to bother you,” Cliff said in a tiny voice. “And then I tried to text you but none of the letters in my phone made sense.”

Elliot felt his chest clench painfully hearing that. “Cliff, you wouldn’t have bothered me.”

“But I’m bothering you now,” Cliff whimpered.

Elliot frowned. “I didn’t say that.” Silence from Cliff. Elliot sighed and grasped Cliff’s hand in his own. “Cliff, Cliffy, can you look at me?” It took a second, but fever-bright, hazel eyes eventually focused on Elliot. “You’re my boyfriend. I want you to be okay. Can you at least try to trust me?”

“I do trust you,” Cliff whispered, voice hurt.

“Then let me care about you.”

Cliff fell quiet again and Elliot sat back but kept Cliff’s hand in his. Cliff had his eyes closed, but it didn’t do much to hide the tears that escaped from the corners of them. Elliot didn’t say anything, just brushed them off of Cliff’s cheeks with his sleeve. Once Cliff was asleep, Elliot finally allowed his own silent tears to fall.

Eventually a CNA came to bring Cliff down to the short-stay unit. She rolled Cliff’s stretcher down the hall and into an elevator. Cliff looked nervous and kept glancing at Elliot, making sure he was still right next to him. Elliot always was. They got to a small room that had a real hospital bed in it and the CNA and Elliot both helped Cliff take two steps from the stretcher onto the bed. It was painful for Elliot to see how difficult even this brief transfer was for Cliff, and Cliff started another one of his long coughing spasms afterwards. Elliot rubbed Cliff’s arm, unsure what else he could possibly do to help. “Water,” Cliff croaked hoarsely between deep, rattling coughs.

“Sure. Um…” Elliot looked around him but this room was barely more than an ER bay. It didn’t even have windows. “Let me go check,” he said, and went to go look for the nurse’s station. There were two tired and rather bored looking, middle aged women sitting at computers at the end of the hall. “Excuse me? My boyfriend just got here and he could use some water…”

“I’m almost there,” one of the nurses said, which Elliot thought was a weird thing to say when she very much wasn’t almost there. Regardless, they didn’t seem to like him hovering very much so Elliot went back to Cliff’s room. There was nowhere for him to sit, so he stood at the bedside. Cliff had managed to stop coughing at least.

The nurse, despite her indifferent demeanor, did show up with a little bin that contained hospital socks, meds and a large plastic jug of water. “Clifford Barrows, hmm? I’m Carey. And you are…?” She raised an eyebrow at Elliot.

Suddenly feeling extra protective, Elliot quickly said, “His boyfriend.”

“Alright. Mr. Barrows, are you okay to have Elliot in here?”

Cliff nodded a yes. Elliot thought it was so weird to hear Cliff called by his last name. They seemed too young for that.

“Well, your boyfriend will have to leave after I finish this admission paperwork as visiting hours are over soon, but remind me to get you a chair for tomorrow,” Carey said. She started a myriad of questions, which included Cliff’s emergency contact.

“Make it Elliot,” Cliff said quickly, looking at him. “Um, will my dad know I’m here?”

“You’re eighteen, right? Not unless you tell him,” Carey said. “But I see your dad is the primary insurance holder so he may see the invoice after you’re discharged. It shouldn’t show any details though.”

Cliff grimaced but nodded. At least there would be no confrontation in the actual hospital, Elliot thought to himself. Carey kept asking questions, which ranged from did Cliff smoke to could he walk up a flight of stairs to did he have any plans to hurt himself right now. They seemed a little ridiculous to Elliot, but Cliff was able to answer all of them with simple yes’s and no’s pretty quickly since he was for the most part entirely healthy.

“You’re easy,” Carey said, winking at Cliff. “Boyfriend? Visiting hours are over now honey, so you say your goodbyes and you can come back at 8am tomorrow morning.” Elliot thought she was kind of like those old ladies at diners who yelled at you for your order but called you honey so you couldn’t feel totally attacked.

He nodded and gave Cliff a quick hug. He thought about kissing him, but Cliff didn’t like to be kissed in front of other people so he just squeezed Cliff’s hand instead. “I’ll be back in the morning,” he promised. “Get some rest and tell them if you don’t feel good, okay?”

“Okay,” Cliff said. He looked scared, so Elliot hugged him again and kissed the top of his head this time.

“I love you,” Elliot said. “I know you can be strong for me. You’ve got your phone right here.”

Elliot didn’t look back as he left, because he could feel Cliff’s kicked puppy expression trailing him and knew if he did, it would be ten times harder to leave. He walked to the parking lot without thinking, got in his car, and drove home without Cliff beside him. He made it to the park a block away from his parents’ house before he pulled over and cried for a solid ten minutes.

Cliff was going to be okay, Elliot told himself. Cliff was stronger than he seemed, and realistically Elliot couldn’t be there for him every second of the way. But he’d promised Cliff they weren’t going to the hospital, and then he promised Cliff that he’d be right there next to him the whole time. He’d broken both of these promises and now Cliff was sleeping in a hospital bed, in a tiny room with no windows and only a crotchety old lady to keep an eye on him. Elliot felt just terrible and wondered if he’d made the wrong choice dragging Cliff to the ER. All he wanted was for Cliff to be okay, though, and he really hadn’t seemed okay today.

Elliot wiped his tears away and told himself he had to be strong. This seemed so intense and adult, but Elliot couldn’t let it overwhelm him. He tried to remember the coping mechanisms his therapist had taught him back in high school. Deep breaths. One second at a time. He could do it, and so could Cliff. Elliot turned on the car and returned home by himself.

[Part 4]

[sockeye-run]

Been feeling like burnt trash for the past week or so. I'm about 99.999% certain it's not viral though; for years now I've been dealing with waves of strange symptoms that appear to be inflammation-based issues, specifically in my head. I think it's what's been causing the on and off low grade fevers this time around too. But I get bouts of pain, pressure, dizziness, fatigue, etc. that all generally focus around my head and neck which Celebrex has helped with in the past, but nothing ever truly resolves.

I was out of Celebrex for a while and just got my refill sent in, so today I'm just hoping they fill it and can help me regain function soon, but the underlying issue will still be there. I'm afraid to fall into the chronic illness situation. I am NOT saying chronic illnesses aren't real, I am saying that they tend to attract grifters who trick desperate people into bad situations and poor decisions about their health. And I certainly am desperate, I'm in a ton of pain. But I don't want the added pain and stress of trying to find a non-skeptical doctor to listen to me and help me actually identify what's going on here; figuring out it was inflammation and that Celebrex could help in the first place was such a long pain in the ass, and my husband essentially had to get in a doctor's face for him to want to try the option that ended up actually helping. It's all just a bit much for me, you know? There's not enough support, willingness, and understanding in the chronic illness and inflammation areas to begin with, which is why I know I'm at risk of the bullshit. I'm already worn out. And I can't blame anyone for being willing to try anything that just might bring a smidge of relief.

I'm also feeling guilty about not running or going in to work lol, so I've been keeping myself busy with cleaning and cooking and trying to work from home as much as I can. I also tend to fall into the trap of well, if I technically don't have a known, diagnosable issue, then I'm technically 'well' enough to hold up my responsibilities, regardless of how I physically feel right now. Which I know is some fucked up capitalist brained bullshit, but I'm still a victim to the complexes instilled in me as a child. Aren't we all?

We do need to get our convenient healthy food options back on the menu lol, so I've been trying to feel busy by making quiche and granola for breakfast. I'm also on the last day of prep for my sourdough starter, so I'm hoping to start cranking out delicious bread soon!

[thatoneperson747]

Hi

So while procrastinating writing the fic I'm working on, I decided it was time for me to read the Royal Ranger. I only have book one, and I've had it for about a year now, but I never read even the first page. I've heard stuff throughout the fandom about it, but I've tried to stay away from royal ranger specific posts in order to not spoil the book for me.

If you also haven't read it yet and want to avoid spoilers, stop reading now. You've been warned.

Here's the things I knew before reading:

Will has a beard now. This is very controversial.

Alyss dies. She was burned to death. Also very controversial.

Horace and Cassie have a daughter named Maddie. Maddie becomes Will's apprentice.

And that's about it.

I decided that since the Royal Ranger was so hit or miss for the community, I'd document my thoughts on it (as a personal record, if you will) and see how my opinions change, if they change at all. Feel free to laugh at me if I make predictions and they end up being completely wrong lol

I've read the first seven chapters, and here are the main thoughts I have right now.

1. Is Will now just Halt? When he was first being described during the scene with Henry Wheeler, I dead ass thought Flanagan was talking about Halt. I mean, Will is grey already? Like, fully grey. He's described as having a "steel-grey beard." Not grey and brown, just grey. Halt???

2. Alyss' death fit her character well, but why did she have to die? Keep in mind, I was never the biggest fan of Alyss - I thought a character as interesting as a diplomat should have more personality than just "the main character's girlfriend" - but come on? We barely got to see them married. Idk man. I feel like her death would be better justified if they had actually like. been together longer? 10/10 for writing her death though, saving a poor child from death seems really in character for her, especially considering that's pretty much what Baron Arald did for the ward kids (he didn't die for it but still, he saved them from a childhood of neglect and almost certain death). I feel like it's a great wrap to her story, although I wish her story was longer.

3. Crowley was done dirty. What the actual f u c k Flanagan? The Corps Commander, the man, myth, and legend gets a paragraph to explain his death. It's such a lamely written death too? Crowley, a ranger, who was probably in peak health, just nopes out one night. At least he was smiling..? And maybe it's the fact that TEY is my favorite part of the series so far, but Crowley deserved way better than that shit. Also I'm surprised that I managed to not know about Crowley's death before this?? I actually cried reading it. He was such a precious little man in TEY, how could you do this Flanagan???

4. Maddie is a bit of a brat. Not even a bit, she kinda just is. To be fair, Cassie was that way sometimes as well, but Maddie just seems... I don't know, too much of a 'I-do-what-I-want-and-you-can't-stop-me' kinda person, but in a bad way??? Like that one kid in school who would never listen to authority figures and got everyone in trouble all the time? I hope she mellows out because she could be a great character, I think. It's said she takes after her mom, but I'd like to see her act like Horace too.

5. Gilan. Just Gilan. What?? I never liked his relationship with Jenny much, he seems quite a bit too old for her (at least 5 years, most likely quite a bit more since Halt had a few years between Gilan and Will), but he's so relentless in asking her to marry him? Huh??

And also, BOLD of Flanagan to assume Gilan would be hesitant about letting a girl into the corps. This man has traveled with Cassie. He's traveled with Lydia from Brotherband. He knows women are capable. I mentioned not liking his and Jenny's relationship, but like. he even respects her. She's a business woman, she owns her own restaurant. No one can possibly convince me that Gilan doesn't drink his respect-women juice DAILY. It feels out of character for him.

6. Poor Duncan. That's the end of the sentence.

7. Those guards are hysterical. Ah, yes, let's just casually not mention or try to stop the princess sneaking in and out of the castle even though this could end really really badly. Perfect logic.

And yeah that's all I got right now. I'm very excited to see how my opinions so far change! I'll document them here too in case anyone cares. Feel free to reblog with your own RR opinions and the like! I'd love to see what you guys think of my takes lol

[spectral-devotee]

Cross-posted from my AO3 fic

Link to Chapter 02

Word count: 3,280

Birds of a feather

Summary:

A fic following Viktor’s arrival to the University of Piltover after Doctor Heimerdinger offers him a job as his assistant.

As required by the Piltovian bureaucracy, some paperwork is inevitable (honestly somewhat unnecessary too). During a medical check-up Viktor discovers he is an Alpha and starts a treatment meant to help his overall health improve. Meanwhile two students in the Engineering and Architecture schools are making a name for themselves. Will they come to meet Viktor at the perfect time to make his whole life change for the better?

or

Jayce and Eda (Reader) team up to join the Distinguished Innovators Competition in hopes of creating a better world when an explosion in Jayce’s workshop turns their world upside down. Jayce is expelled and Eda’s political ideas sit badly with the council members. They both need someone to hold them together and help them make their Hextech dreams come true. A certain assistant is up to the task, though.

Notes:

Hiii! Long time lurker first time poster. Sorry in advance, english isn't my first language so I had to investigate many academic terms. Feel free to correct me if you see anything too weird in that regard.

This first chapter is very Viktor-centric, but I will try to mix it up throughout this work. 3rd and 2nd POV bc it’s easierrrr lol. Also, I intended to make Reader just fit in the story with no alterations to the base material, but ended up accidentally making her Salo’s half-sister and giving her way too much backstory to not do anything with it.

No use of y/n bc it takes me out of it, the name Eda is given to Reader. Get it? reADEr = EDA. I know, brilliant. AFAB pronouns and anatomy for my bby girl, but other than that no further descriptions of Reader’s body will be given

I started this fic before season 2 started airing + I have a really bad memory so many details may be off until further editing.

Yes I love myself some self-shipping ABO, it adds to the flavor (It is also a great excuse to write lots of physical contact for my boys, they need a hug or two)

Likes, reblogs and comments are welcome and appreciated!

Chapter 01: Where Viktor's life started to change

Nothing had ever belonged to Viktor, not really, not completely. As a child one could make the case that his clothes or toys would be of his ownership, but Viktor always saw them as hand-me-downs in the best scenario, but he had no ill-will against his parents or his siblings in that regard. His parents had been too busy trying to keep their family afloat in Zaun’s sea of misery even before he was born. Too many mouths to feed, too little food to go around. He was glad they even tried to make something out of their situation, even if only he had a chance to get out of the depths.

Viktor turns to look at his bedside table. The clock reads 3 am, far too early to wake up yet. He sighs. It’s not often that he stays still in his bed while not plagued with insomnia.

It’s those nights where he lets himself remember his life before Piltover.

He remembers many children coming and going in the little community along the contaminated lake he used to call home. He knew some names, his siblings particularly, the others he tried to guess right. He’s not sure how many they were let him forget how many people he saw die due to the polluted waters, the only thing he’s sure of is that was the youngest amongst them. When the time came for his scent and denomination to show, the other children would make comments on his very faint cinnamon smell, nothing worth mulling over.

Only a few years prior his mother became very ill due to an undiagnosed loss of mobility, most likely a result of many years in poor living conditions. After she died, his father became a sight less and less prominent around the house, leaving him and his siblings to fend for themselves, admittedly not unusual in Zaun. What little food he got was thanks to his sisters, the clothes he shared were his older brother’s. Viktor knows some toys were stolen from unsuspecting pilties, though he prides himself in the modifications he made to them at such a young age.

Just then the alarm sounds and Viktor opens his eyes to see the weak rays of sunlight seeping through the curtains. The almost sterile room stares back at him, the papers scattered along the floor the only hint of his stay aside from the bed he was currently occupying.

The school administrators had given him a temporary permit for a house close to the Academy in the Masters’ villa, a place reserved for the school’s staff to live in. As one would guess, it’s a single floor house with a living room, kitchenette, bathroom, and bedroom.

All the furniture is still arranged exactly as it was given to him, a small sofa next to an empty shelf in the living, a closet full with ironed uniforms in his room area, a personal bathroom complete with a tub and a mirror, a vanity where he kept most of his medicines, and finally a corner to the very back of his room intended for nesting. It’s not his to dispose of, he thinks; four days is all too soon to even attempt to make a nest. He won’t even consider it until his legal academic situation is secure.

The news on his applications to different scholarships are pending. Accommodation, a salary of sorts according to the position of assistant, and his complete medical record are a few of the things he is currently taking care of. Heimerdinger has told him multiple times his stay in the University of Piltover is stable, that there is no need to keep acting frugal. Still, there’s something inside his mind that won’t let him relax and enjoy his new “home”.

Whatever is left of his cinnamon and oakwood scent is lost to the vastness of the empty space and he starts his morning routine. Delicate fingers grab the cane next to his bed and he proceeds to the bathroom where he stands as tall as he can while looking at his reflection in the mirror. He takes note of the scars and bruises left in that leg. With better conditions in his living quarters came less damage done by accident, not to his surprise.

He took a few pills and washed them down his throat with tap water. One is for the pain, another is for the stress, the third is for the coughs he is prone to.

The fourth pill is the one he is hesitant about.

Whenever Heimerdinger found him and offered to accept him as his assistant, he was sure to take Viktor to a (well-needed) full-body medical checkup as one of the enormous amount of requirements the academy has.

The Piltovian doctors informed him of some things he already knew, or at least expected: his leg was in terrible condition due to the many years unattended, and he would need to use several orthopedic appliances as his condition advanced.

Some other things he found out right then and there, for example: turns out he is an alpha, and his previous intake of unprescribed, questionable-at-best, and (sometimes) down right illegal remedies were taking a heavy toll on his body, and most importantly, his endocrine system. The beta doctor prescribed him with lighter-use suppressants while his body adapted to the dosage and everything settled down.

To be fair this would have not been that great of an issue had he been a beta, as he thought himself to be. The intake of various medicines was a way to make his body able to navigate the undercity, helping his eyes and lungs adapt better to the polluted air. Unbeknownst to him, it was also the reason why he never presented the usual symptoms of an Alpha in the making.

The usual characteristics of an Alpha were lost to him: he wasn’t tall nor strong, maybe somewhat protective, but not enough to ring any bells. Comparatively, he was almost scent-less, he didn’t go through any heats, nor any ruts. Even if his libido was slightly higher than Betas his age, a knot was not visible.

Today happened to be the first day of a several-year plan where Viktor would try out decreasing doses of suppressants meant to aid his body adapt to normal rut cycles. One of the doctors insisted on this treatment due to the success in alphas that seeked to form a pack. He made sure to make his annoyance clear to the doctors, insisting that he did not, in fact, seek to form a pack, but they assured him this was an imperative step for his overall health either way. His body needed to experience a rut at least once to get his glands to make the vital hormones a healthy alpha would normally produce on its own. They only managed to fully convince him when they mentioned this could be the solution to his mobility problem.

And so, now Viktor pondered downing the usual fourth pill. On one hand this would set back the inevitable process of correcting his hormones (maybe until the end of the semester came, and he would be able to barricade himself in his room for months on end). On the other hand, he desperately wanted this whole treatment to be over with as soon as possible.

Finally he decided to throw the remaining pill down his throat.

Better not regret it now.

…

As Viktor walks down the main hall he glances over the school’s notice board. The new additions to the student body are displayed, a way to tell the current students “See them? They will be your competition”, he thinks.

Just as he expected, all Piltolvians, though he is almost sure a former Zaunite around his age should be in the Physics program. Nevermind, there are also a couple of exchange students. The results are shown according to their school of choice.

Architecture, Chemistry and Engineering are shown to the far left, Industrial Design is almost to the middle, Physics is closer to the right. The other schools, he must admit, are not of his particular interest.

One of the things Viktor finds amusing about the Piltovian culture are the casual displays of power they have ingrained in their minds. In this case he notices some names accompanied by a crest. This, as it seems, means the students are from a certain family or that a member from said family is their patron. The Kirammans, some of Piltover’s wealthiest, have decided to sponsor an aspiring engineer from the House of Talis, for example. He takes note of some names, but continues along his way.

A few minutes later he finds himself in front of Dr. Heimerdinger’s door. Viktor takes the brass doorknob and knocks two times before Heimerdinger’s voice calls him from inside “Viktor, my boy. You got here earlier than I expected!” Viktor stands awkwardly looking at the clocktower through the hall window. It is, in fact, too early. Thirty seven minutes early to be precise. “Please, do come in. I’m making tea, would you care for a cup?”. Viktor steps in and closes the door behind him “Yes, if you don’t mind. Thank you, professor”

Heimerdinger’s head suddenly popped through the kitchenette’s doorway “Oh, do sit down, it will take just a minute”. Viktor took a minute to take a closer look at Cecil's abode. Every piece of furniture looked handmade to his size, from the loveseat to the stairs connected to the bookshelves.

The only chair available for Viktor’s… measurements was a wooden chair which he promptly took place in. Soon the distinct sound of a kettle full of boiling water came from the kitchen and Heimerdinger came to the living carrying a small tray with two cups and some pastries.

“Looking at you, I can only imagine you haven’t even grabbed a bite before coming here. As much as us scientists see ourselves as machines that could go on forever working, experimenting and researching, we still do need fuel. Please, take this” Cecil put some cookies and a piece of carrot cake on a plate before pushing it towards Viktor, who quickly grabbed a fork and started eating a single bite without giving him a concrete answer, clearly indicating he was right on his assessment.

Dr. Heimerdinger takes a cookie to his mouth and expects Viktor to continue eating too. Alas, Viktor takes out some papers from his bag and starts going over the themes he came to discuss. “Doctor, I was hoping to go over the syllabus before the first day to make myself familiar with the contents. Now, here it states there you will explain the generalities of-”

“Oh, Viktor. Often the mind wanders, escaping from our grasp before our own eyes and leaving us in great distress while blind. You needn’t worry, my boy. You are nervous, it is to be expected, after all, it’s your first unofficial day at the Academy.”

“Unofficial?”

“Ah, yes, I did mean to tell you before. You see, the Academic team has favored you. The contrary would be unthinkable, you make a formidable addition. Yet, it seems an intangible enemy has made its presence clear: the lack of official papers regarding your citizenship, licenses and curriculum do make it hard for the administrators to be 100% behind your arrival”

“What does that mean? Am I not going to be able to be your assistant?”

“Quite the contrary. It means it will be your chance to demonstrate your capacities. It is, as some would say, your time to shine”

“Under what conditions am I expected to prove my worth?”

“Your worth is not to be tested, it is only a matter of simple bureaucracy. Always the extremes with you young people! You see, other academics and I have come to an agreement: you will present some tests. Ten to be exact. Each one represents a semester at the Academy and each of them will include all the contents seen within your school of choice. Now, I know you are very capable, in various subjects, but we would prefer if you were to select only one title to carry for now. Will it be Physics, Chemistry, Maths, Engineering or are you going to surprise me by choosing to be a Biopharmaceutical Scientist?”

“Oh”

“Maybe later you could sign up for the Masters program, it wouldn’t be too far from your capacities now, would it?”

“Not at all professor”

“I’ll leave you to think about it, but be sure to get back to me as soon as possible. Now we should get going before all the alumni start suspecting this will be an easy class just because the professors arrived late on the first day!”

“Of course”

They continued going over the syllabus. As expected, Viktor made a few observations on Heimerdinger’s grading system, activities for the students and new sources the professor would most likely need to mention.

Cecil couldn't help but be impressed by the dedication his new assistant showed. He wished Viktor could become a professor himself right then and there. That is until class began and he saw Viktor become a whole new person. Where there was a soft spoken boy, now stood a very strict man ready to personally fail anyone who didn’t take the class seriously. Some students cowered in fear while others began taking notes on every word that came out of his mouth.

Yes, the boy would need some time before he was ready to become a professor.

…

By now they had only one more lecture left. The morning had flown by them with all the hush and haste typical of the first day of school. While waiting for their last class, Viktor and Heimerdinger decided to admire the landscape from his office. The sun bathed Piltover’s building in glorious golden light.

“Sir, I have chosen my answer regarding what we discussed earlier”

Heimerdinger turned to look at Viktor “What wonderful news, I knew you would be fast to decide on this tumultuous yet delightful path. What will it be?”

“I think-”

Just then an explosion rang far in the distance and the enforcer’s sirens blared throughout Piltover. The previous shimmer of the city now dulled with ashes. Noise began blaring from the border.

Grey clouds started flooding the bridge, a clear sign of deep trouble in the cross between Piltover and Zaun.

Before either of them could react in any way other than shock, a flock of enforcers started making their way through the main streets in calculated fashion. Though it was hard to make out from so far away, Viktor was sure the bridge was flooded with Zaunites. Was this some sort of uprising?

Both of them came back to it. Immediately the professor ran to the speaker device connected to the amplifiers scattered all around the Academy.

“Dear students, there seems to be an unspecified phenomenon currently developing in the bridge to Zaun. Do not get out of school grounds until further notice. I repeat. Do not get out of school grounds. You are safe here. Do not run, the enforcers are on their way to assist”

…

Viktor expected a tiresome day full of classes, meetings, and running errands for Dr. Heimerdinger. To a certain extent this came true, he was tired, very tired. They had only one class left before they had to call off the day and, while the meeting was postponed, he did run many errands for the professor. What he didn’t expect was the armed uprising and nigh siege he endured in his first day as an assistant.

The battle in the bridge lasted for about twelve continuous hours, he thought the Zaunites would have won by the sixth, they have a great advantage in numbers alone. Even then numbers and weapons aren’t everything, he supposes.

Reports popped all over the place. The casualties of Piltovian civilians and enforcers kept rising by the minute. Viktor would need to ask around for the Zaunite casualties. Even if the exact number was impossible to estimate correctly, he had to know. Admittedly, asking for names would be too much. He was too afraid to hear the names of the deceased in case he knew one, or more, of them.

The streets were closed off several hours after the attack. Most government and academic buildings not essential for the armed forces were turned into temporary shelters for the affected civilians. Mainly the not-so-wealthy Piltovians.

There was one thing that Viktor found strange, but would never dare to say. It seemed like the enforcers were aware of the Zaunites movements before they acted and strategized accordingly. How else could one describe their precision when the Zaunites moved through the secret passages in the city? That was certainly not luck.

A whistleblower among the people of Zaun would be unthinkable, but then again, not completely out of the realm of possibilities.

The other council members were quick to do damage control, assuring everyone the battle had ended for good and no big losses had been noted, quite the contrary. In another feat of Piltovian culture, the council members would usually give good news to reduce the blow any given disruption made in their perfect little society.

In this case they were fast to announce the recovery of the long lost daughter of Xade, the female Alpha head to the House of deMarquis and fellow council member. Very few details were given, apparently she was being held hostage by her Omega Zaunite father as a way to blackmail councilman Xade for money. The girl was recovered during an investigation at the Entresol level, the same level of Zaun Viktor was born in. In his opinion this was nothing more than propaganda designed to make Piltovians hold a grudge against Zaunites, splitting them even further apart.

Viktor couldn’t help but scoff at that. Lives were lost. People on both sides had died. Could no one else see the unfairness of the situation? A daughter was found, many others would never be seen again.

…

Dr. Heimerdinnger had many obligations to tend to as the Dean before he could go back to his quarters. Ensuring the safety of all students and school staff was a priority, but the public announcements were a close second. Reassuring the parents, patrons or patron parents was a whole other show Viktor was not sure he wanted to take part in, even if it was his job to do so.

By the time it was all over, it was either deep in the night or very early in the morning.

“Well, Viktor, what an… eventful first day you’ve had. Worry not, tomorrow, or should I say today, will be a rather unremarkable day compared to… Oh, what am I even saying? Avoiding the situation often lights the flame rather than dull it. The horrors of war can never be avoided, that I know, although the frictions between the districts is undeniable I believe peace can be achieved”

“I do too” Viktor turned to face his superior

“We will see through this situation in the blink of an eye, the wind rises and so must we. I will see you in a while, and I expect you to be as vigilant as you were today”

Viktor was almost sure the professor fervently needed sleep, yet he couldn’t deny the hopeful smile that threatened to appear through his own lips.

“Actually, sir, before we part I wanted to tell you what I want to study, if that’s alright”

“Of course, what will you choose?”

“Engineering suits me”

“Very well, I will talk to the others as soon as possible. Rest well, Viktor”

[palomahasenteredthechat]

I worked for Fan Expo at 3 of the cons he did. I was fortunate to work directly and indirectly with him and his team. He was never any of the things people are now trying to imply to make themselves feel better about the dating rumors. He was never dismissive, rude or over the fans.

He also was never overworked, mistreated or physically harmed. Never. There are politics with cons that are exhausting. But Joe was always polite and kind to everyone. He is very funny, reserved, dry and very very British.

What he was and is not is your personal therapist for your mental health issues. He made 42 minutes of screen time YEARS before and moved on with his life. Eddie was a job. The fact that Eddie became a hit was a delight. That he became a mental health touchstone for so many people is not Joe's responsibility.

But people made it his and that's not fair to him. I heard so many genuinely exhausting accounts of people's personal issues being thrown at this poor man's face, at his team, at us workers. He is not your savior. He is an actor. Fandoms have lost the line of what is acceptable to say to a total stranger because it makes you feel better. Pouring your broken energy into strangers because it helps heal you is not cool. Look at Chappell Roan.

His sudden behavior is surprising in that he genuinely seemed to want a sense of privacy and distance from the chaos of fame. It is disappointing that it is with someone problematic because he is genuinely a well spoken, gracious person. But his publicist is....a lot. And I think he has found himself taking care of a family/friend/business circle because he chooses to but that quickly becomes a machine to feed. I think with Vic there has been some Kool aid drinking happening.

Bottom line we didn't dream it. He was kind, polite, gentle, sweet and hard working. He matches energy immediately and some people were the problem not him lol. But what he never signed up for is being your personal messiah.

Wow, Nonny, there is a lot to unpack here.

First of all, thank you for your account of working with him. I know there are some folks that had disappointing experiences with him at cons from time to time, but most have not. As I've said before, I had a pretty good experience, and the folks who worked Fan Expo Portland were great.

I know the trauma dumping is cringe, and if it's cringe to watch on Youtube I can only imagine how cringe it must be to experience up close, over and over again.

Here's the thing though. Eddie struck a chord with people, for better or for worse. I know it's not Joe's responsibility to heal people, or save people, or emotionally caretake people. I get that, and I would hope by now everyone would get that too. But I would argue, that for 30 seconds, what people are paying for is for him to listen.

I know cumulatively it must be a lot. But the fans paid for the opportunity to say 'hey, you're great.' or 'hey, this character means something to me and here's why'. Clearly many felt that that character spoke to something they were going through. It really is a touchstone character for so many people.

There is a line between 'pouring your broken energy into strangers' and telling someone 'you made a difference to me'. I'm sure he had to endure some stuff that was uncomfortable, and the sheer volume must be draining.

But please, please don't throw all of the Eddie stans under the bus. They get to hold Eddie close in their hearts. There's no easy answer, and I really appreciate your perspective, I just hope that at the end of the day the good outweighs the bad here, because the Eddie true believers are the heart of this fandom to me.

Now then.

Your comment about Vic was very, very interesting. Is Vic an old family friend? Does he feel a sense of obligation beyond simply professional?

As an outside observer, things have at points seemed, for lack of a better word, discombobulated. I'm sure Vic is good at what she does, or Nicola Coughlin and Jodie Comer wouldn't be her clients.

AQP ran like a well-oiled machine. This hard launch however feels like a steamroller. And you are absolutely right when you point out what many of us have taken as gospel for him - that he truly craves privacy at the end of the day. So all of this feels shocking, honestly.

[thefluffyrailway-official]

Hey, I know you are busy with pup season. Gosh knows those pups need so much attention.

Do the mams and dads to be get freaked out about the pups and need to be calmed down? I'm sure some of the dads would be worrying about their partners/pups. (Totally not thinking about Oliver freaking out to Toad. The poor break van just wants to sleep. #JusticeForToad)

(ALRIGHT YOU KILLED ME WITH THIS ONE LMFAO 🤣)

Actually many of them freak out as this is totally new for them.

Speaking about the dads worrying abt their partners:

• We all agree Toby went even crazier than in "Signals Crossed" since he found out he was going to be a father? Because he did. First he saud he wasn't ready for something like this and even less knowing how anxious he is.

After some months he finally calmed down (Excepting the fact he had to take the lemon while his wifey was on her maternity leave but anyway) and actually enjoyed the experience.

Till the lil'fluffy box decided to be born so panic attack YIPPEEE!!! (Henrietta was also very VERY stressed that day. Lyra said she never saw her like that in her 56 years working with her-)

After all that chaos, Harriet never was a crazy pup, she was more a shy sleepyhead who usually sobs when someone she doesn't know approaches. So not much action in this part. Just the old married couple being a chill parents with a chill pup -w-👍

• BUT! You mentioned the little western duo eh? Well they're totally not free from the "Pup Panic", as i call it lol.

They're quite opposites actually. Oliver ALWAYS freaks out when he's not with his loaf wife, and specially now that there's only around 4 months to meet the first mini loaf. He just tell Toad every single bad thing that could happen to Annie and the pup.

#JusticeForToad

But when he's with her he's quite calm, just cuddling, purring and talking to his pup lol.

Unlike his grey bestie. Who's usually very chill when he's not with Clara, knowing there's not much to worry. (Still freaks out sometimes when he sees her working and stuff) But when he's with her.... Oh boy... He freaks out at every single weird thing she does. Pup kicks for exemple. THAT MAKES HIM GO CRAZY 😭👍

And now you can imagine how it will be when the pups are born, after seeing that Tree Claire post-

But enough about crazy pregnancy anechdotes. Now let's go with crazy pupsies >:)

• 1st is Dallas. She already did her first crazy pup thing! Dang girl you haven't even open ur eyes yet!

She escaped from the shed (not even walking, she doesn't know how to walk) and ended on BRENDAM DOCKS JUST BY CRAWLING!!!!

As you can suppose, Donald had 9 heart attacks when he woke up and didn't saw his baby with him.

He ran with Duck crying that the pup was gone. The whole island tried to find her.

And then, there's Sandy playing with Dallas on her nest-

Donald is now barely sleeping during the day because of that 😃👍

• Now, speaking of Sandy, do you know how stressed is Carly now? Working 24/7 and being the single mother of a very hyperactive pup? I mean, Cranky, Big Mickey, Salty and Porter also like to help. But ish... They'reall very busy guys. Most of the time, Sandy is on her own due to this. (And that's also something Carly hates.)

• Also Molly and Neville usually have to be calmed down when they're informed about another of Ash's asthma attacks. Many times Molly literally leaves her jobs and runs to the Steamworks to check everything's good with her daughter.

Sometimes the other 3 pups are a bit jealous because Molly can't be with them on her freetimes as much as she is with Ash. Neville and her already told them that it's because of Ash's health. But the pups are still too young to understand....

Conclusion: Crazy pups=Stress & Engine pregnancy=Anxious (Not pregnant) parent.

😃👍

[sazzujazzu]

Hello, as the days count down and the Bad Batch finale draws closer, may I show to the fine folks of tumblr my first Star Wars OC in 20 years, created thanks to this show? 😃

Too bad, I'm showing them anyway 😊 somberly chilling while listening to their bestie talk.

Please excuse the poor background (I got lazy) and half-finished Tech (I got sad)

there's, uh, a big mess of words under the image because I wanted to put into words the importance this show has for me, and I am bad at doing so.

I want to get some thoughts off my chest, because I have no one in my day-to-day life who cares about the animated Star Wars shows, and especially the Bad Batch. (well, other than my mom, but I don't want to bore her with my rambling too much. she already banned star wars from me once, i won't let that happen again lol)

I can't stop thinking how much I don't want Bad Batch to end.

This show has been so dear to me. I can't remember the last time I've loved something this much.

Before the second season started, I had an artistic block that had lasted way too long. Anything I drew or wrote, mostly turned out a horrible mess after staring at a blank page for hours and hours, if I ever managed to create anything at all. For someone who tends to draw whenever their hands aren't otherwise busy (aka all the damn time), such a block weighed down on my mental health.

Well, then season two happened, and full-on gave me back my love for Star Wars, a love that had somewhat gone out over the last few years. Then, Plan 99 happened, and broke me because again my favorite character "died" (I'm in team Tech lives until I draw my last breath or until proven correct. That chocolate-eyed cutie-pie is alive nothing will convince me otherwise). Pretty much after finishing the episode and staring at a wall for another 30 minutes, I said "nope" and began writing.

I wrote for hours. I believe it's been well over a decade since I last wrote fanfiction, but here I was, creating a Star Wars oc, something I'd last done as a ten-year-old. And now, roughly a year later, I think I've written over a hundred pages of (very self-indulgent) fanfiction with the Batch, and with my oc that I've come to love.

And drawing, oh boy, have I been drawing!

(... Sure, I've mostly been drawing Tech, over and over again, to a point I once actually considered lying and saying "yeah that's my boyfriend haha!" to a man at my job last summer, when asked who it was that I was drawing for maybe fifth day in a row 😂 likely would've been a more acceptable excuse for someone my age. But, I mean... I just really love drawing him, not only because he is my favorite character of maybe all time, but because he is just so fun to draw! And most of all, at least I draw again!)

And it is all thanks to this wonderful show about a bunch of defective and effective copy-paste boys and their sister.

It's probably something many say, but I've always felt like a bit of an outsider. I've felt like I have no place; when I was a kid, my interests were very different from the other kids of [gender assigned at birth], and trying to play with them while inserting my own interests into the games, often didn't go so well. I was... kind of an odd child (although now, older and questionably wiser, knowing that I might actually be autistic, many things make more sense now. me kind of discovering this about myself is also partially thanks to Bad Batch)

Also, growing up trans/non-binary, while not even knowing what that is or having a word for it, didn't really do much to help with the feeling of "I'm different and an outsider because of it". Perhaps it was one more reason I fell in love with Clone Force 99, because I could see some of myself in them. Being different from the "regs".

I love this show, and these fictional people have become my family, and I am not ready to say goodbye to them.

Alright, weird pile of thoughts over. In case someone read all this, uh... thanks 😊