#which was one of the most stressful experiences i have had in the last 2 years

[dangerliesbeforeyou]

god... family are so frustrating sometimes lol...

[guzhufuren]

did a check in with myself and analysed last 6 months that i spent with no brain meds after completely coming off them in june (a gradual process under the guidance of my psychiatrist). concluded that my mood swings are very weak and actual depression is staying away. always thought that i would have to take meds for the rest of my life, but turns out 4.5 years on mood stabilisers and antidepressants was enough. of course meds might not help everyone and treat all mental disorders, but they do work and that's dope

brain meds work

[easy-there-leftovers]

I See You, Darling (3)

[Astarion x reader] As I mentioned in a previous post, this came along surprisingly easier than the last one. The same can’t be said about the quality though maybe– sorry for that. :,DDD|Word count: 2.6k.| 

Content Warnings: Mentions of cooking, handling knives, blood, one sex joke (lol), the normal warnings that you’d associate with the game

Part 2 here!!

Next Part here!!

As an outsider to most of everyone’s problems, you find your place by helping in whatever way you can. Even if that may be at the expense of your own comfort, but at least it’s been fun so far.

Alternatively: Reader can't catch a break from anything, can they?

————━─━────༺༻────━─━————

Being resident camp caretaker was surprising, for lack of a better term. You were away from the stresses of technology, corporate assholes, and disappointing family with your choice to pursue unpractical careers. Instead living the “cottagecore lifestyle” of foraging for food and cooking with a cauldron that those from the digital world claimed to be the best. What they failed to mention were the incessant pests coming in to nibble through rucksacks if you were not careful, and the occasional swarms of ants or flies coming in to nip at your flesh.

The experience was a mixed bag, so it would seem. But the tired smiles that the group would give you when you greet them with a warm and filling meal was always a comfort that you would have.

And it would seem they needed it now more especially than ever.

Your band of misfits planned to venture out and defeat the goblins at their camp in order to aid the tieflings’ journey to Baulder’s Gate. Per your instruction, you convinced the more solipsistic members of the benefits of eradicating the sect. Namely, they wouldn’t hinder you as much in the future if they were taken care of. Hence your plan to slightly increase the amount of portions for supper tonight.

By twilight, you had a good broth steeping in your cauldron. The camp having returned just a few moments prior from an earlier excursion. You were making a pottage that the others have expressed their enjoyment for. A stew of sorts that you had made when you had quite the number of items that would have spoiled before consumption had you not done anything about it. A mixture of fruits and meat, stewed in a consomme of a pig’s head and various mushroom caps. 

This time around, you’ll be using fresher ingredients to hopefully lift their spirits.

As you’re chopping up fruits, you think about all that’s happened to you and possible explanations for why your character suddenly ceased to exist in order to make room for you.  What’s more is that no matter how many nights pass, you never end up waking from your dream. Which you fear is lasting longer than your usual ones.

Your working theory is that whatever force, be it magic or fate, tethering you to this world is also responsible for removing Tav. Astarion claimed that he couldn’t remember the finer details when you had confronted  him. And so you settled with that hypothesis. That like how a thread that unravels opens a seam in a garment, a new thread must be used to darn the cloth together again.

You laugh at the disgustingly poetic analogy you created in your head. You fear that you’re becoming more and more deranged as—

“My, aren’t you busy?” The intrusive voice causes the knife to slip out of your hand a bit, thankfully only cutting off a portion of your index finger’s nail. Your shoulders, that were raised in alarm, release their tension after feeling the sudden chill leave your body.

“Astarion,”  Exasperated, you put the knife down on the cutting board to catch your breath for a while. 

“I would greatly appreciate it if you stopped sneaking up on me when I’m doing something dangerous.”

The high-elf offers a mischievous smile in response. “Very sorry, pet. But it’s hardly my fault when you’ve barely been paying attention to me.” There’s regret in his words, but not in his tone.

Because while perhaps it’s an odd interest, he enjoys hearing the quickened pace of your heart. The pulse getting louder, as it stays that way for longer.

“I’d feel sorry for doing so if you were too, but you’re not.”

You laugh out, breath still shaky but steadying slowly, as you pick up your knife again.

 “I heard you’re part of the encampment that’s finishing off the goblins by midmorn.” Chopping the rest of the fruits, you feel his presence move from behind you to off to your side so you can see him from your peripherals.

“Hm? Yes. Although I would have preferred if we didn’t do this at all. It’s too much work, and the goblins could be entertaining! Killing useful spoils seems like an awful waste.” 

This must be the reason why he approached you, to persuade you to call off the hunt. And his unfading smile supports that thought. When you voice said thought, it earns you a playful scoff.

“Don’t you have anything else on your mind other than the parasite lounging in it?”

The mood is light as you say this, the banter welcomed by you both. 

And as you continue to converse, a few eyes begin to follow the two of you. They’ve never really seen Astarion interact with you for this long, at least not away from your private spaces. And even less without hushed voices. The interlocution is definitely a welcome spectacle to them. 

“On my honor, the only thing on my mind is depraved, carnal lust.” He says, proudly. Gesturing to himself with one hand, and the other held high like he was swearing an oath. 

Your closed mouth drops into frown, eyes wide, and your eyebrows skew upwards. A very undignified, but small, squeak coming from the back of your throat. You swore you heard someone groan in disappointment from far away too.

You know full well that the look of shock that you were sporting was by no means attractive, but the flagrant revelation, though not at all out of character, was shocking to have directed towards you. You’ve been trying to romance the elven vampire with your character, only to end up nowhere. Therefore you are completely unsure if the dialogue he was spewing was completely a figment of your imagination, or is, indeed, canon.

The elf in question has seen this expression of yours before. Quite often, too. And while he doesn’t think it a, “pleasant sight,” it is rather… charming to him. 

Whether it be on purpose or not, people have the tendency to be on guard around him, preserving any twitch and sound that could give them away to themselves. Not that much had ever evaded him before with his naturally cunning behavior. But this clearly unscripted response, with the blatant confusion swimming in your eyes, is a rather refreshing sight to see.

“I see–” you clear your throat to lower your voice back to its normal octave. “Well, I’m sure you’ll have plenty of opportunities to uh, bring those thoughts into fruition! Uh–,” You slide the rest of the cut fruits off of your cutting board and into the stew. 

“Is there anything else you wanted to tell me? Something I should know?” You turn to face him. He laughs at first, but then his brows furrow in question, as if he did have something to say and forgot about it or thinks it is no longer an appropriate time to ask. He shakes his head and says something along the lines of, “letting you do all the hard work” and returns to his tent.

But you are not left alone for long as another member of your little ragtag team joins you to ask about dinner. To which you ask them for which meat would be better to toss into it. 

—————————

After dinner, your little rapport concerning the plan and new findings with everyone is adjourned. Some thanked you before they left, and others simply walked away. From what you have learned from them, the Archdruid that was taken prisoner by the goblins was named, “Halsin.” He was a topic of interest as they said he might be able to aid you in your search for moonrise and understanding the Mindflayer worms.

Wyll had also approached you alone after dinner and offhandedly mentioned a dead boar being on the road. He had planned to return to camp with it if it could have been useful, but he had claimed that the animal had been unnervingly light. As if half of its weight was no longer there despite seemingly just keeling over for no reason.

You take note of that in one of your many journals, including additional information about the Archdruid and their kind in general. The book appearing more and more like the game’s quest booklet, with the exception of a few crossouts and colored ink to emphasize each quest’s urgency and relevance to finding a cure. When you successfully rescue the druid of the grove, it seems you will have to move out quite soon after, so you fixed up your pack just a bit to make it easier later on.

You look around, everyone seems to be in their respective areas. Doing whatever it is they usually do  with the exception of Astarion. Though he has been known to either sneak off or hide away from time to time in his tent, so you think nothing of it.

You return to the communal chest, tallying up the remaining supplies and inspecting the wares. You sort the tradeable objects in one rucksack and appraise its worth. The chest also has pieces of gold, some that others have placed, and others you picked up and added. You prefer to let the others keep what they think is valuable to them, and only place what they want to share in the vessel. 

If the party’s gold ever runs out, you think that the rucksack is worth a few nights of food when you travel out again. Assured by this knowledge, you placed your writing materials back in, closed the chest, and turned in for the night.

Maybe this time, you’ll wake up. But you also don’t really want to. Not just yet. 

—————————————

As you slept, you wondered about the longevity of your knowledge of the media. You hadn’t finished the game, and although you’ve accomplished a fair bit of it, you worry about how you will face the events to come. One of the only reasons why you haven’t flinched so much at the terrors that occurred was because you had anticipated them. Braced yourself for the dangers ahead.

You fear what might happen when you no longer have that power at your disposal.

Perhaps it's the worry, perhaps it's the stiff, compact ground that you have yet to be accustomed to sleep on despite the bedroll, or perhaps it's the presence of something suddenly cool that stirs you awake. 

But what you did not expect was Astarion’s face hovering over yours to be the reason. Fangs bared, and ready to bite. Your eyes go wide and you let out a small gasp, hands moving up in a gesture akin to clawing at yourself. 

The elf realizes that you’re awake now and he curses. Moving away as you scramble upright just like you did all those nights ago. The look of genuine fear at the prospect of being bitten is apparent on your face, and he feels almost guilty to be greeted with it.

“Please, I wasn’t going to hurt you— I just needed, well, blood.” He says it in a panic. Worried that you might run off, losing his only sure chance, and possibly enraging the rest of the camp.

In this moment, you realized the error in your ways. Astarion had been hunting nearly every other night in the same area. And if you were progressing through the events like how the game did, he couldn’t have had the time nor energy to venture too far after feeding from most of the creatures in the vicinity.

‘The exsanguinated boar…’ You remember.

“You’ve been feeding on animals for the past few nights, haven’t you?”

“It seems like word got around then.” Although unknowingly, he’s referencing what Wyll delivered to you earlier in the night.

“I’m not some monster, I feed on boars, deer, kobolds– whatever I can get. I’m just too slow right now. And with the damned excursion,” He stops himself, complaining is only doing worse for his condition.

“It’s not enough. I feel so…weak. If I just had a little blood, I could think clearer. Fight better.” You’re conflicted. You had no problem offering yourself as your character for him to feed on, but even witnessing that through a disconnected screen was enough to make you feel uncomfortable imagining it. You care about him, want to give him what he deserves, but this…

What’s more is that you know what he’s saying is necessary, not at all overstating how dire his need to satiate his hunger is, making it all the more difficult.

He needs to convince you, if he wants to continue on, that is. Without the presence of the illithid, he resorts to more practical means of doing so. Similar to what he did to many.

Noticing the slight tremor of your hands, he takes the chance to slowly kneel down on your bedroll. Closing the distance between you. He takes your hand, now rougher from the work you do, and meets your shaken gaze with his dark eyes.

“Please. I only need a taste, I swear.” He had meant to tell you before dinner, had he not felt the eyes of the others on the two of you. This discovery is not lost on you. He needs you specifically. And you realize it's out of convenience because you’re an expendable resource. If you pass, the group can venture on, but he also still needs you alive for whatever reason. He can’t have the others finding out, not until they trust him. 

He needs you to trust him. And this is the only way you can help him in this moment.

With that, you strengthen your resolve. 

“I…I trust you, Astarion. But no more than what you need.” A dangerous bet, but you hope it would be worth it.

“Really? I–”

 “Can I trust you on that?” The shock on his face fades, and he agrees.

“Let’s make ourselves comfortable, shall we?” You lay down, preparing yourself to faint during the process and allowing your blood to flow throughout your body. He observes the rapid movement of your eyes as he drapes himself above you. Your sight flitting from anywhere but him and then returning all the same. No doubt that you fear being at his mercy.

He feels almost sorry that you have to do this for him.

So he graces you with what mercy he can give.

The bite is quick. You would have felt the flesh of your neck parting for him, had he not done so. You feel tears prick at your eyes and start to feel the area from your neck and upwards go cold.

A momentary, sharp pain, that lulls to a chilling numbness in what seems like a matter of seconds.

You feel his body start to grow warmer at your expense and you feel satisfied knowing that you could help him.

When he doesn't stop, you start to worry.

Your breath catches in staccato beats, pulse quickening in tandem. You try to stop him, hands coming up to push or tug, but the heavy sensation that washes over you only permits them to find purchase on his form.

You try to speak, but it seems as if the common tongue does not reach him.

Your mind goes into overdrive, all of a sudden it doesn’t feel like a dream anymore and genuine fear courses through your veins.

You need him to stop, and you try to think of more efficient ways of doing so.

But your mind starts slowing as well. The pain has certainly faded, but the presence of the vampire at your throat reminds you in case you’ve forgotten.

As a last ditch effort, you try to use whatever might appeal to him, to break him out of the trance that he was in from finally replenishing himself. 

“Isalhal–” One of the few Elvish words you recalled.

The effort thankfully makes him pull back in shock, stopping him. Your eyes finally close, thankful for the reprieve you're finally granted. You hear a distant, “thank you,” and a more distant “shit” before rest takes over.

You worry about waking up tomorrow.

But for now, you’re thankful that Astarion will be able to fight well.

For himself and for everyone else’s sake.

━─━────༺༻────━─━

Thank you to @rey26, @shyminnie07, @lynnloveshobi, @iggee-rose, @automnepoet, @tiannamortis, @aoirohi, @sarkara211, @jane-3043, @h3110-dar1in9, @h3ll0k1ttyl0ver333, @mimziethealien, @squichymochi, @sharabay, @furblrwurblr, @dork-of-the-universe, @thedevilssinner, @fuckalrighty, @queenofthespacesquids, @perseny, @goldenplutus, @h4nluv, @awkward-d3rs3-dr3amer, and @auszimbo for asking to be tagged!!

[wantonlywindswept]

forgotten fox ficbit 2

one here

i recognize the poll results and i am ignoring the poll results =D

I realized there are things i want to happen before fox's batch gets involved (more slow building realization stuff) and that would be Cheating and skipping to the end, so thus you get poll winner #2: Stressing Out Hound ft Grizzer and Commander Vertex

---

Despite what most natborns thought--or screamed, loudly and obnoxiously--Grizzer was not some poorly-trained mutt.

She wasn't as disciplined as the massifs Hound had trained with on Kamino, but those massifs were older than he was. Grizzer had been given to him as a pup just two years before Geonosis, a squirmy bundle of scales with spines barely the length of his thumb; she and Hound had the same amount of active duty experience. 

(She was also, to Hound's bitter regret, not able to be spoiled with the organic aged bantha chew treats that Trainer Jallo had used. Trainer Jallo said that the quality of the rewards didn't matter, but she'd also never had to feed her massifs the slop that Kamino used for animal feed, which honestly was probably only the tiniest step below what they fed to the clones.)

Grizzer was highly competent at her job: she answered all of Hound's commands promptly, hunted down suspects with the same focus and determination as a clone soldier, and knew not to take orders from anyone other than the Guard's commanders or ARF troopers.

"Hound, have you finished the intake form for--oh, hey Grizzer. Down, girl."

Grizzer, who had been in the midst of going for an affectionate full-body tackle (which she only did when she really liked someone, what the fuck), skidded to an abrupt halt at Commander Vertex's feet, plopping her butt down on the ground right next to his boots and staring up at him adoringly.

Commander Vertex, who had only been with the Guard for two weeks. Commander Vertex, who had made it to the kennels maybe once in that entire time.

Commander Vertex, who reached down to pat Grizzer on the head, who instead of getting a warning mouthful of teeth, received a dopey grin and a happy wiggle from Hound's highly-trained massif. 

What the fuck.

With a final pat, Vertex left Grizzer sitting obediently by the door to make his way further into the kennels, occupied by his ever-present datapad. When he reached Hound--still kneeling dumbfounded on the floor trying to fix one of the cleaning droids--he finally seemed to realize what just happened.

"Ah," he said.

"What," said Hound, "The fuck."

Vertex just shrugged, as if getting by a highly territorial massif who tolerated a total of maybe four people was just something that normal people did, and not an act of extremely impossible betrayal.

"I worked with massifs while with Spec Ops. They always seemed to like me."

Hound didn't even know the Spec Ops Brigade had ARF troops.

And that still didn't explain why Grizzer would--

"You shouldn't be down like that," Vertex said, head tilting to one side. "You're going to aggravate your knee. Anyway, isn't Jogan supposed to be in charge of cleaning today?"

"There was a big drug smuggling bust in the Uscru district," Hound replied blankly as Vertex tugged him to his feet. "Bruiser needs the practice."

"So does Jogan," Vertex muttered.

Hound usually stood up for his men, but the commander wasn't wrong. 

Vertex frowned as Hound staggered a little before righting; his left knee was feeling tetchy about whether or not it wanted to support his weight. He held on until Hound was steady before letting go, attention dropping back to his datapad with a grimace.

"Stone needs the intake form on that Nikto you brought in last night," Vertex said, flicking his fingers across the screen. Hound heard the depressingly telltale ping! of a message hitting his comm. "If you get it to him by midmeal, it should be fine. But have Patches take a look at your knee first."

"Yessir," Hound replied automatically. 

Vertex nodded at him approvingly, which definitely wasn't pleasing or anything, and headed back out of the kennels. He paused to pat Grizzer on the head again before disappearing out the door.

In the ensuing silence, Hound stared at Grizzer.

Grizzer stared back.

"Traitor," he hissed.

His extremely poorly-trained massif's tongue lolled out in an unrepentant doggy grin.

And then Hound remembered--

His knee injury wasn't in his file. It happened on Kamino, and would have been an instant decommission if the clone medics hadn't smuggled him in for emergency surgery after training hours. He'd told the Guard CMO about it after being assigned to Coruscant, but Defib had decided to keep the injury off the books as well, just in case any natborns got nosey.

Commander Vertex shouldn't even know about it.

What the fuck.

[kitty8804]

Doing another RWBY hatedom rant because people seemed to like the last one and I have more to say:

I absolutely despise it when people call Yang selfish and a terrible sister in Volume 9 when it came to Ruby’s struggles with her mental health. I have two main issues.

1. People seem to think that because Yang is Ruby’s big sister then she needs to always be at her beck and call. She can’t disagree with Ruby. She can’t let Ruby do things on her own. She can’t focus on herself or her happiness. She must always be focusing on Ruby. That’s not how relationships, especially sibling ones, work. People seem to think that Yang must sacrifice everything for Ruby and if she is anything less than that then she is a terrible sister. Do people forget how much Yang had given up for Ruby?! She raised her! She sacrificed her life for her! As soon as she was ready to went to go find Ruby in Volume 5 instead of her mom, which she had wanted to do for most of her life! I fully believe that if Raven didn’t have her portal semblance, which made finding/getting to Ruby MUCH easier, Yang would not have bothered. Yang loves her sister so much! But just because she’s a big sister does not mean that she isn’t allowed to struggle or focus on herself.

2. Here’s the big reason. As someone who has had to deal with a VERY similar experience in my life it absolutely infuriates me when people call Yang a terrible person and sister. I won’t go into too much detail because it’s not my place and I’d rather keep the information private but a couple years ago my sister hit a very low point mentally and it got very scary. (She’s doing much better now don’t worry). Here’s something that most people don’t realize when someone very close to you is going through something like Ruby did: You don’t tend to realize how bad it is. I knew that my sister had her struggles, but I genuinely thought she was doing alright. Afterwards I felt like such a terrible person because I wished that I noticed more and wished she had told me what was going on. This is exactly how Yang felt! She knew her sister was struggling, but didn’t realize just how bad Ruby’s mental state had gotten. She would try to comfort Ruby, not realizing that it was making it worse. She wished that Ruby had told her so that she could help her. It’s a really shitty situation to be in. This is on top of the fact that all of team RWBY were in a very stressful situation after having witnessed the fall of Atlas. I don’t think any of them were in great headspace’s, Ruby was just in a much worse place.

Honestly the entirety of Volume 9, in my opinion, was very realistic in its portrayal of mental health issues both as the person struggling with it and as the people around them. These situations are messy, complicated, and are never straightforward. Trying to treat it as anything else really shows that people don’t know what they’re talk about.

Yang is a good sister. She’s not perfect, but guess what? No one is! Remember we as an audience know so much more than the characters do. Just because characters don’t handle a situation perfectly doesn’t mean they’re garbage.

[kimberbohwrites]

Rolan Headcanons

How Old is Rolan? (SFW)

Inspired by a conversation between the amazing and wonderful @darkurgetrash and I the other day that made me want to compile my thoughts in one place.

I believe that Rolan is anywhere between 27-35 years old. Why?

Thanks for asking! (lol)

-As someone who is (nearly) 36 years old and went through a traumatic upbringing, I have a lot of experience in this subject and I’m here to shed my weird expertise and light on this. (Also, as a side-note I believe that Rolan would have the most fire skincare routine if he was in a modern au situation)

-Let’s just start with the physical signs of aging. Like the dark circles under his eyes, people who are older get worsened dark circles under their eyes from stress, lack of sleep, etc. Now there are such a thing as hereditary dark circles in humans (I have them) but again, they worsen with age.

-His face shape is another very distinct sign of aging and a real difference to help you spot people in their 20s vs people in their 30s. While your face shape doesn’t necessarily change as you age, your features do become broader as your skin loses elasticity and that natural youthful glow.

-Rolan’s face looks to me like a more mature adult face in that respect and when you compare him to younger and older tieflings it seems to be consistent.

-I know the big topic of debate is the wrinkles, could he be prematurely aged by the stress he’s gone through? Absolutely, he does have some signs of premature aging around his eyes from a hard and stressful life (I also have these lines). I agree here.

-But take a look at Cal and Lia, they have also had hard lives but appear much younger than Rolan. However, they both seem to be adults, not youths, which makes me put them in their early to mid twenties. (In my mind: Cal is 23, Lia is 27, and Rolan is 32-33)

-Going into the less physical subject of debate that goes with this topic: The apprenticeship. I don’t think his apprenticeship necessarily means he’s young you can start an apprenticeship at any age and what we do know about Rolan’s background makes it all the more likely he got a late start in life. I sincerely think Rolan wouldn’t have wanted to leave Cal, Lia, and their mother before the Descent of Elturel and their mother’s subsequent death.

- I actually believe that her death was likely a catalyst for him wanting to 1. Get stronger to protect them and 2. Need to leave Elturel for it to actually make that happen.

-Furthermore, I think some of his prickly exterior and facade of bravado are a sign of age as well, not immaturity. Those both come from a place of shame, shame that he has likely felt over a long time which could be worsened by the perception that he hasn’t achieved more in life. (But I could just be yapping on this one lmao)

These are just my thoughts on this subject, let me know what you think as well. At the end of the day, we are all just making sh*t up, which is the true spirit of Dungeons and Dragons lmao (also falling deeply in love with a background NPC with no last name).

[genshin-obsessed]

Hii! Hope you're having an amazing day! Can I request scaramouche, baizhu and dottore with a reader that can't sleep at night because of nightmares? They can only sleep 2-3 hours max before waking up because of another nightmare. I've been having night terrors recently out of blue so maybe some comfort might help with the issue ಥ⁠‿⁠ಥ

✧ Hiya! Super cute, thanks for the request! I believe this is my first time writing for Baizhu which is suprising bc he's one of my faves. Sorry this took so long btw! ✧ Also, I genuinely feel for anyone who suffers with night terrors, I couldn't imagine what that would be like.

✧ Characters: Baizhu, Dottore, Scaramouche

✧ Baizhu

Being a doctor, he did have some experience with night terrors before. He is wary of medication, as he knows that’s not a permanent solution.

Not only that, but night terrors have underlying conditions, which are easier to treat than the terrors, themselves. So, he'll try to work with that.

Of course, he's beside you every single night when you sleep. So, if you're thrashing or screaming, he can calm you and bring you back to reality. 2-3 hours a night isn’t enough sleep, so he’ll usually ease your stress and help you rest some more.

Getting better is going to take a long time, that's something you'll need to come to terms with but it is possible. One thing is for sure, Baizhu will never give up.

✧ Dottore

He’s certainly seen cases before. Both mild night terrors and severe ones. He does have a few ideas to help them.

The last resort is medication for him, since it’s not the best thing to use to treat night terrors. The lack of sleep is the most worrisome for him, 2-3 is detrimental to the body.

Night terrors are frightening for both parties to deal with, so he takes it extremely seriously. It’s pretty much top priority for him. As mentioned earlier, he works on your sleeping the most. You need to sleep at least 7 hours a night.

You can expect him to be beside you every single night when you try to sleep. He’ll bring his research with him or a book, or even if he’s sleeping with you. He’ll hold your hand and even talk to you until you fall asleep. Dottore asmr.

✧ Scaramouche

He understands as he probably has a minor case himself. Unfortunately, he’s no doctor so he doesn’t actually know how to treat it. But that doesn’t mean he won’t look for ways.

He knows doctors and so he’s quick to try and get any of them to help. When you had your visit, he paid attention to every single word spoken by the doctor.

Scaramouche takes it extremely seriously. Not only that, he understands how detrimental it could be both psychologically and physically. He tries his best to find ways to soothe you back into sleeping.

Scara will try to make sure you get at least 7-8 hours of sleep in a day. It’s ok if it’s not in one night. As long as you rest. He keeps a close eye on your diet as well to make sure you have enough energy and sugars in a day and not go overboard.

[bet-on-me-13]

Immortal Cop Danny P.2

Part 1

So, we have seen my scenario where Danny is revealed as an Immortal Cop really late in the Timeline, like nearly the entire Batfamily has already been formed kinds of late.

But what about a world where Danny has been on the Force since Batman Year 1?

Officer/Detective Nightingale has been one of the best and most loyal members of the GCPD for well over 3 decades. He didn't hide his "Meta Ability" when he first joined the force, since Gotham hadn't been introduced to all of their Superpowered Rouges yet, and the attitude for Metas in Gotham was nowhere near as harsh as it would be in the future.

He was one of the Go-To Cops in the early days of the Batman, since he had proven to be trustworthy and most people felt comfortable talking to him. Most of the community respected him, although some saw his power of Immortality as unnatural or freakish.

Batman met Officer Danny on one of his earliest cases. Danny pushed him out of the way of a Bullet and saved his life, getting shot in the process.

Bruce will never forget when Danny reached into the hole on his side and pulled the bullet out with his fingers. He didn't even flinch.

Danny has also been one of Commissioner Gordon's best friends and closest confidants for years. He was even offered the job of Commissioner once due to his extensive experience on the Force, but refused since he knew Gotham would never accept a Meta Commissioner, or maybe because he believed that he wasn't the right fit for the job.

Dick remembers the time when Officer Nightingale found out about Robin's age. He will always think of Danny laying into Bruce for bringing in such a young kid as one of his fondest memories.

Gordon remembers being invited to dinner with Danny's mom, a nice if cryptic lady dressed in gothic clothes who thanked him for all the work he did for the city, and for keeping her streets as safe as possible. Apparently she did the same for Batman, who had gone to Danny's apartment for some information and left with a full belly and plenty of leftovers.

He was basically the best Cop you could ask for. Calm, kind, honest, understanding, and he genuinely seemed to be trying to help the people around him.

Barbra calls him Uncle Danny, and he was there to help her adjust when she lost use of her legs.

Commissioner Gordon thinks of Danny as his best Cop/Friend, unflappable and loyal to a fault.

Bruce thinks of him as one of his more trusted allies, on the same level as Commissioner Gordon even.

Robin called him "Cool Cop D". Later, he was one of the reasons Dick decided to become a Police Officer.

Hell, even Damian commended the man's resolve to help the City, which was considered a monumental feat at the time.

Which is why it was such a shock when Danny disappeared.

He just didn't show up for work one day. This in and of itself wasn't too out of the ordinary, but he usually called in to tell them he was gonna miss a day. They thought it was just because he was so anxious lately, jumping at the little things like a guy bumping into him or asking to leave room at the mention of Autopsies

Then he missed the next day. Not that bad, I mean he had been really stressed out recently. Maybe he just needed an extra day, to work off the stress? Nobody was really worried anything had happened to him, he was immortal after all, but they were still concerned.

Then he missed a third day. This was far more concerning. The last time this happened, Danny had been found passed out in his apartment because he hadn't slept in days and hadn't eaten in weeks (what's the point if he won't die either way?).

He had been put on medical leave for a month after that.

So one of the guys decided to visit his house, just to see if he needed some help.

They find the apartment empty. No evidence that he ever lived there. It was like the entire place had been scrubbed clean of anything that even hinted at his existence, and whoever had done it obviously wanted to cover their tracks.

So, an investigation is launched.

And almost instantly, the Feds take the Case from the GCPD and declare Danny as dead a week later.

Seems they forgot to take a look at his Resume...

So Gordon takes this to Bats, who immediately starts investigating the Feds in White who showed up to steal the case.

...

Tag List:

@overtherose @kyrianclawraith @ghostreblogging @the-autistic-spider @just-rant-and-write-fic-idea

[cozy-cinnamon-roll]

We Interrupt This Broadcast...

(Another two-part-er! Stay tuned for part 2 very shortly!)

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Pairing: Ler!Rosie, Ler!OC, Lee!Alastor (strictly platonic)

Content/Trigger Warnings: tickling, very brief blood mention, medical themes (non-graphic & painless). One comically graphic description of cannibalism (first paragraph). Also, this is set right after Alastor gets his ass handed to him by Adam, so you can expect a lil angst sprinkled in there (don't worry, he gets better).

If there are any trigger warnings you'd like me to add in the future (and/or to this fic), PLEASE let me know! I am always happy to oblige. 💕

This is a ticklefic! If that's not your cup of tea, kindly move along.

Ok... I'm gonna be honest folks, I have no idea if this fic is even coherent. This ain't my Best Work™ - this is literally the coping mechanism I've been relying on to put myself to sleep every night this week because HOLY SHIT my life is stressful at the moment. 😅

But anyway, I've decided I'm just gonna go ahead and post it, because 1) the world needs more lee!alastor, and 2) I'm not here to do my Best Work™, I'm here to write cute self-indulgent little stories about Alastor getting tickled to bits by his platonic wife. I'm here to decompress my hypervigilant ass at the end of long days by imagining my favorite endearingly creepy characters get wrecked by my other favorite endearingly creepy characters.

In summary, I'm here to have a good time, and I certainly did with this fic. So I hope you do too!

Featuring my new oc! (Rosie and Al still take center stage though, don't worry lol)

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

It's a little-known fact that cannibals make terrific doctors. When you spend every meal tearing the human body apart with your face, you end up with a pretty comprehensive intuition for demonic anatomy.

So Alastor supposed he should consider himself lucky to have Rosie and her loyal posse so close at hand after his battle with Adam.

He was certainly relieved when Rosie had stumbled upon him, barely conscious from blood loss on the floor of his wrecked radio tower - and especially a few hours later when, having been rushed back to Cannibal Town, he was whisked into a warm, familiar parlor and deposited on a comfy couch.

Within minutes Rosie had summoned a woman in a white coat who swooped in, produced a bottle of a strange, foul-smelling gel from her medicine bag, soaked a rag with it, and pressed it firmly against Alastor's wound. The searing pain evaporated almost on contact.

"What is that?" Alastor breathes, visibly relaxing against the arm of the couch he's propped against.

"Anesthetic." She begins preparing a needle and thread.

"Didn't know such a thing existed down here."

"Of course! We're demons, not barbarians," Rosie scoffs, watching from the sidelines.

Cannibals, as a rule, rarely last long enough to need a doctor, but Rosie is no ordinary cannibal. And Dr. Trudy Sawblade - a young surgical resident in life, and Rosie's personal physician in death - is the best of the best. While she hadn't quite completed her medical training before her untimely death, in Rosie's service she's gained more than enough experience to make up for her education cut short.

"That salve is derived from a distant cousin of the poison dart frog. Evidently most of the frogs are assholes, because hell has an downright enormous population of them." Trudy's voice is measured and matter-of-fact, with a soft lilt that is both soothing and vaguely unsettling. "Haven't been discovered on earth yet. Which is good, because one whiff of this would end a mortal life in a matter of seconds."

"Lucky you, you're already dead," Rosie chimes in cheerfully.

"Lucky me," Alastor murmurs, without conviction.

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

Truthfully, with the pain from his chest wound numbed, the weight of his recent defeat presses even more heavily on Alastor's heart. Someone - probably one of the cannibals who helped transport him from the rubble pile to Rosie's parlor - must have grabbed the broken microphone as they carried him out, because the fractured pieces are sitting on the side table at the other end of the couch. Under normal circumstances the awareness that someone had touched his staff without permission would spark a flash of rage from the Radio Demon, but now he can only stare dismally at what remains of his cane - aware that it's no longer capable of accomplishing much anyway.

It takes only a few minutes for Trudy to stitch Alastor back up and wrap his chest in a stretchy gauze. Meanwhile, Rosie quickly mends the worst of the tears in his clothes - if only to avoid having to watch her friend stare down the couch at his broken staff, with an uncharacteristic half-smile that damn near breaks her heart.

"Alright, sir, that should do it for now. It's a nasty gash, for sure, but the salve should keep it from getting infected."

"Thank you, my dear." He gives an appreciative nod to the surgeon, and Rosie too, as his fellow overlord hands him back his clothes.

"Can't have you going around with a big hole in your chest, can we?" Rosie steps back and scrutinizes her own patch job as he slowly dresses himself again. "It ain't perfect... especially for a classy fellow like you. But I'm sorry to report that I saw my tailor at a Sunday brunch just last week. Inconvenient, but I gotta admit, he made a wonderful casserole."

For the briefest of moments, this aside manages to tweak Alastor's smile into something vaguely genuine. "I'm sure he did."

"One more thing, Mr. Alastor, sir," Trudy jumps in as the radio demon pulls on his coat. "So sorry, I almost forgot. The angel also threw you against a wall, correct?"

At the recollection, Alastor's smile stiffens into something more closely resembling a grimace. His antlers rise between his ears. "Does it matter?"

"You may be at risk for internal injuries." If Trudy is at all fazed by inviting the most powerful overlord in hell's annoyance, it doesn't show. "I really ought to check, just to be safe."

Alastor looks away. As loathe as he is to even acknowledge his own fragility, he truly isn't sure of the extent of his own injuries - given that he's not used to receiving them in the first place. And he'd be damned (well, damned twice) if Adam had ruptured something vital, spelling the radio demon's second death a few hours after the fact.

He grits his teeth. "I suppose it wouldn't hurt."

"Lovely. If you could just lie back, sir..." As he obliges, she kneels beside the couch. "I'm just going to feel for any swelling..." Her hands hover over him-

"Er, wait." Alastor abruptly sits up.

"It's alright, I won't touch your wound!" Trudy soothes. "I'll just be feeling down here..." She gestures to his midsection (which elicits a sharp flinch).

"No, I-" He hesitates. "I'm... not sure this is necessary."

"Oh, Alastor, stop worryin'!" Rosie reassures him with a friendly pat on the shoulder. "Trudy is quite picky about her meals. She'd never go for venison."

"That's... not what..."

Alastor pauses, and evidently decides against trying to explain what he meant. He reluctantly lies back against the cushions again.

"I'm going to place my hands under your shirt, sir. If you feel any pain, please alert me."

"Very well."

As Trudy lifts his shirt, he looks like he is going to say something more - but whatever it is dies on his tongue the moment her hands make contact with his stomach. He brings one knee up sharply.

"Tender there, sir?"

"No! No, your hands are cold." His words have gone uncharacteristically stiff.

Trudy methodically probes one side of his belly, then the other (which in turn causes his other knee to pop up). This time when Trudy asks if he's in pain, he merely shakes his head.

The surgeon furrows her brow, concentrating. Human-animal hybrids like Alastor already take a bit of poking around just to get a sense for each unique configuration of organs. It doesn't help that the man is bracing for every touch...

"Are you sure this doesn't hurt, sir?" she murmurs tentatively. "You're very tense."

"Yes." The word comes out like a hiss. She glances at the radio demon's face. He's wearing his typical showman's smile, but his eyes are fixed on the ceiling with a weird, wide, unwavering stare.

Finally the surgeon sits back. "Well, I don't feel anything concerning. But to be honest, sir, I can't feel much of anything." She turns apologetically to her employer. "His stomach is all clenched up..."

But Rosie is simply standing there pressing a huge grin into her glove. She's known Alastor for decades. She can read his expressions like a magazine.

"Alastor, darling," Rosie drawls casually. "Are you ticklish?"

From the radio demon's reaction, you'd think she'd asked if he was an Exorcist. He scrambles to sit up. "No! Why would-"

"You're ticklish. That's..." She catches herself just before the word precious.

"...What?!" There's an edge of defensiveness to his voice that Rosie very rarely hears from him.

"Why are you embarrassed?"

"I'm not emb- That's not- what-" Oh, she's giving him that look. "I'm just- I wasn't-"

As he speaks, Alastor's voice suddenly goes thin. His gaze turns inward. "I'm stuttering. I don't stutter! I've never stuttered!" He clutches his coat closer around himself. "I am the RADIO DEMON, for heaven's sake, I don't sta-AHH! Haha-!"

Evidently a scribble to the ribs is a very effective way to interrupt a panicking demon. Rosie runs her fingers from his hip up his side to his arm and back a couple times for good measure.

The amount of startled laughter she is able to draw from just this surprise touch delights her - the poor man is so ridiculously sensitive that a five-second one-handed tickle leaves him fully breathless.

"Okay! Okay, okahay! Keheh- Rosie!"

"Sorry dear, couldn't resist." She holds her hands up, still beaming like a stadium light. "I'll stop torturing you."

Alastor clears his throat. "You're not torturing me, dearest." He straightens his bowtie, clearly attempting to salvage his dignity. "You know what I always say, laughter is a powerful sign of-"

He cuts off with a sharp inhale and defensive flinch as Rosie perches on the edge of the sofa beside Trudy. She grins.

"You're right. That's certainly your specialty, isn't it?"

Alastor forces a nervous chuckle. "Never fully dressed without a smile, you know."

"Well don't worry, darling. I understand." She pats his knee. "Just because you've got the scariest evil cackle in hell doesn't mean you appreciate having it tickled out of you."

Rosie had expected this assurance to put him at ease, but if anything, he seems more troubled.

"Why would I mind a little, ah..." Tickling. Tick-ling. He can't bring himself to articulate two syllables. Is this all he's left with without his staff? "...Er, a little bit of levity? Can't let things get too serious, can we?" With another quick cough, the radio demon finally manages to get his voice to fall back into his familiar breezy cadence. He turns to Trudy. "Now, are we... quite finished with that examination?"

"Nothing seems amiss, from what I can feel." Trudy takes a step back. "Which is not much, but I think I've already made you uncomfortable enough..."

"Nonsense! I'm perfectly at ease!" He lies back again and smooths his coat. "Please, finish your little checkup. I insist."

Trudy regards him curiously for a moment. "Right." Her hands hover over his belly again. "But if you want me to stop, sir, just say the word-"

"I assure you that w-won't be necessahary..."

Trudy watches him seize up before her fingers even make contact. This time she presses a little deeper into his belly, trying to feel around his defensiveness.

"You are punching holes in my couch," Rosie remarks dryly, watching the poor demon's claws bury themselves in the cushions.

"I kn... ohow, I'm just-" He squeezes his eyes shut as Trudy hits a particularly bad spot. And then another. And another... hell, his torso one big bad spot.

"What do you think, Trudy?"

The young doctor just shakes her head.

"Alastor. Darling. You have GOT to relax."

"I am!" Alastor's composure is dangling by the thinnest of threads.

"Maybe it would help," Trudy says, with infinite caution, "to just go ahead and laugh, sir."

A beat. And then Rosie bursts into laughter.

"Giving new meaning to the 'deer in the headlights' expression, my friend." She scoots closer. "I thought you just said you don't mind a little 'levity'..."

"I don't!"

"In that case. Carry on, Trudy - Auntie Rosie is gonna help our patient out a bit while you work."

Too late, Alastor realizes what his fellow overlord has in mind. "Wait, wait! Ros-"

A delicate set of nails find the region just under his ribs - and it's all downhill from there.

"Ah! Fuhuck!" Alastor chokes on a curse before he can catch himself. He twists sideways, collapses into muffled giggles, and briefly manages to pull himself together - just barely - with a few hyperventilated breaths. "Rosie, really! This isn't- please- ack! I can't-" There's that damn stutter again. He hadn't even stuttered when Adam slashed him.

And now, Great Alastor the Radio Demon, undone by some scribbles? And a medical exam?!

Meanwhile, Trudy can feel even less now than she could before, her patient's belly now quaking with silent, suppressed mirth. But she takes one look at Rosie's delighted expression... and continues probing anyway, curling a subtle little smirk of her own.

It seems Rosie has picked up on a slightly less tangible injury than anything Trudy can address. But fortunately, they've just stumbled upon a promising potential treatment.

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

Part 2 is already pretty much finished - my brain is just too mushy at this point to contend with Tumblr's shitty text interface any longer, and this feels like a good stopping point.

Lemme get a good night sleep and another dose of Prozac and I'll have the rest out shortly 😅

💜 - Cozy

[siddyyyyyyyy]

University Romance

Johnny 'Soap' McTavish x female!Reader

Wc: ~2 K ; part two

warnings: being kind of stressed out, 'crazy' chemistry professor Soap, no y/n used, Johnny and Reader are about the same age, the name of the university is fictional

summary: You and Johnny are two professors at a university, and he often catches you working late in your office. Also, you're just really good friends and there's probably more to it.

a/n: I don't know how I got that in my head, it's a quick drabble, but I hope I could get my idea across, even if my first language isn't english. Have fun!

Redcrest High Academy, Monday 11:21 PM

Work is fun. At least for you, and that's also what you're trying to tell yourself every time you have to stay in late. It's a pretty social workplace, getting to meet rather famous professors but also some pretty edgy students. Fortunately, you don't have to deal with the edgy kind of students since you're only a history professor. And also take part in some psychology lectures, where most of the edgy students are. Very unfortunate.

This time, it's the grading that keeps you up at work for longer than usual. Inside your office, it's no one but you and those paperlong paragraphs your students wrote about a current topic you are discussing from the previous lectures. It is already dark outside, but the small lamp on your table is working, casting a warm light onto the papers in front of you. The big light is on as well, but it never quite reaches your desk, so the small lamp is a good help.

You are about to put the grade on the essay when you hear a knock at your door, humming absentmindedly for them to come in while being focused on calculating the grade in your calculator again. Of course, it's no other than Johnny, or as his students call him, Soap, for always having crystal clear objects for experiments, having been caught cleaning those in breaks as well. He walks in and steps up to your desk, hands in pockets and studying the big pile of papers, before his eyes land on the essay in front of you. He understands quickly, nodding to himself before he clears his throat shortly to catch your attention.

»Grading, huh? At this hour?«

He questions and takes a look at his watch with an exaggerated arm motion before he puts his hand back into the pocket. You finally manage to write the grade down with some feedback on the side before glancing up to him.

»What?« You put your glasses down and check on the digital clock next to your lamp, realising it's about time you usually go to sleep normally. Johnny tilts his head at your question, a hint of concern crossing his features.

»How many essays did you grade today? Ten, twenty?«

»Eleven.«

He rolls his eyes and takes a seat at the chair in front of your desk, crossing his arms as he leans back. »You're aware it's eleven PM now, right? Lectures ended four hours ago.«

You nod in response, having had your last lecture around that time. Unfortunately for you, he is just as work consumed as you, which means he often catches you staying late or napping at your office.

»I know, I was about to pack my stuff anyway.«

He watches you in disbelief, sighing out dramatically.

»No, you weren't. Didn't even notice me come in, hypnotised by those papers.«

Johnny scoffs lightly and gestures to the essays, now being two piles of graded and ungraded work.

»I get it, you like your job, and that's great, but... c'mon, not even I am as determined as you.«

He shrugs lightly and shifts on his seat to lean back further, seemingly tired from today. You shake your head and stand off your chair, smoothing out the papers before groaning lightly from your lower back pain. As always, you stretch your arms and crack your back, the sounds of joints and bones cracking being soft but loud enough to make Johnny grimace slightly.

»Yeah, you need a break.« He nods to himself, making you huff out amused.

»Listen, I don't need you telling me what to do. I know when to take a break.«

He shakes his head at your words, disagreeing and ready to talk your ears off about the importance of rest. Before he could start, you put your hand up in the air, looking to him finally.

»And now that you're here, I'm going to pack my stuff and get outta here. And you won't say another word.«

Johnny almost interrupts you and wants to say something again before he settles on watching you while he stays in his seat. It's silent, the only sounds being the light ruffles of paper as you organise them and put them back in your bag. The glasses you left on the desk earlier are being put back on the bridge of your nose, slinging your bag around your shoulder finally. He finally speaks up, staying seated as he watches you for now.

»You're lucky I was still here, building up the experiments for tomorrow.«

You don't believe him, giving him a side long glance.

»More like cleaning those weird bowls and glasses of yours.« He's not too amused at your light jab, getting off the chair while gesturing to himself.

»I am just doing my job properly. Don't want my students to get hurt from dirty-«

»What were those loud sounds from this morning, by the way? Did you try to set this place up?«

He perks up at your question, even though you interrupted him just now. Johnny has a big grin on his face now as he gets to explain it to you, walking around your desk while he does so. You listen to him explain in full detail why he decided to do such an experiment and how he set it up, telling you how his students made the small bombs he told them to construct. It led to having built colourful mini-bombs that they just had to set off in the lecture hall. The ceiling is high enough anyway.

Johnny and some other students had some blue and yellow sticking on their clothes and faces, but it was fun, and his students know how to build mini bombs now.

»You don't think it was risky to teach them how to build literal bombs?« That's your only question you have for him now, as everything else doesn't surprise you anymore.

»No. They're studying chemistry; they would have it figured out sooner or later.« He reasons casually, which makes you agree somewhat quietly.

----

Redcrest High Academy, Tuesday 8:13 AM

You're thankful to Johnny for baically forcing you to stop working the night before, because you can already feel how tired and sore your body is after sitting and grading for so long. The lecture hall is mostly quiet as usual, something most teachers in schools would kill for, but in your case it's making you almost frustrated. Why are your students always so quiet during lectures? Do they fear you? Before you could worry any longer about them, a hand goes up from a student, seemingly wanting to ask something. »Have you graded our assignments yet, miss-« »No.«

Okay, maybe it's no wonder your students are mostly silent during your lecture, but being all bubbly and social like your favourite colleague is not easy. And forcing yourself to be more social and funny with your students will only earn you some weird or confused stares. A loud, sudden sound goes off, similar to a small explosion, making everyone jump up and look around for a moment. You hold your hand up and sigh out wearily. »It's probably Professor McTavish again. Calm down.« Not a second later and said Professor is peeking into your lecture hall with a worried expression, his lab coat seemingly less clean, him having a rather dishevelled look. »Your fire alarms didn't go off, right? Don't worry, we already put the fire out. Just checking in.«

He can't be serious.

He clicks the door shut, and the hall is silent for a brief moment before some chuckles and laughs errupt, making you smile slightly as well. You're making a mental note to ask what he was doing with his class again before focussing back on the task at hand. With that quick disturbance, the lecture continues as before.

Once lunch break begins, it's your mission to find Johnny and talk to him about the earlier disturbance. It's certainly not hard to find him; walking into his lecture hall makes it a quick find as you see him cleaning the tables and the other stuff the chemics have around. »Weak arson attempt or another experiment?« He gets surprised by your voice and presence, turning around to face you. He grows sheepish for a moment before chuckling lightly at your question. »I guess one of my students needs to study a bit more. He never gets to set up another experiment alone again.«

You are sure, you could hear some light tension in his voice while he continues to clean and scrub around. Maybe he is just focused on cleaning so much, making him seem a bit tense. In all honesty, he rarely gets mad at his students or scolds them, but it's evident this particular student had to endure some of his strict words after class. »Hm... well, at least my students got a kick out of it.«

He barks out a laugh at your words, pausing on his cleaning for a moment. »I'm sure they did. But my students were afraid for their lives there.«

This makes you shake your head subtly at how serious that sounds. But it's nothing new, just another tuesday at work. After a few more words, you retreat from the room and get to continue your own work, the day going by quickly. ----

Redcrest High Academy, Wednesday 8:43 AM

Another work day, another chaotic day for the chemistry students. The class is lively inside, talking to classmates, making jokes, and telling stories to one another before their professor walks in. It gets more calm once Professor McTavish walks in, most being curious about what they will do in this lecture. He seems to be in a good mood today, as usual, standing by the whiteboard as he explains today's lesson and shows them some diagrams over the projector.

The atmosphere is more light and exciting, the students having their first semester and enjoying themselves, not needing to face the horrors of writing essays or doing research at home for the class yet. A particular student holds his hand up, him already having the nickname 'boom box' from Johnny for being louder and more extroverted than the other students.

»Are you and the history professor something?« Johnny pauses at the question, not having expected such a question. He blinks and looks rather caught off guard by the question, making some students chuckle. »Don't get me wrong, you just seem like a married couple. You're always together and stuff.« Johnny has to literally restrain himself from thinking about you both being potentially something more than friends, acting as neutral as possible in front of his students. He gathers himself quickly, shaking his head as he holds one hand up slightly. »This is chemistry class, no? We have no time to discuss something like this.«

This earns some classic booing from his students, making him roll his eyes while he just tries to get back to the lesson and also teach them about minding their own business.

----

Redcrest High Academy, Wednesday 9:00 AM

You enter his office with two coffees in hand, each for the two of you, as you find him leaned over his desk with his back to you, looking like he is contemplating something really hard. The sight isn't new as you're walking up to him and place one cup at his desk beside him. He acknowledges it with a small nod and finally notices who you are, turning his whole body to face you.

»Did you know my students think we're married?« Silence follows afterwards, blinking at him while he takes a loud sip from his coffee. »Wow, straight to the point, huh?«

He doesn't match your sarcastic energy or finds it funny, staying serious as he stands in front of you.

»They thought we were married.« He repeats, making you narrow your eyes at him before realisation hits.

This is gonna reach the other colleagues in no time.

a/n: Wow, cliffhanger, oh my god, no one has done this before!!! Let me know what you think about this, I'm not sure if I will continue writing about this silly guy kachow

[femcelbassmentdweller]

Overview of My First Year of HRT (2021-2022)

Hi, my name is Sylvie, and I'm transfemme! I started hormone replacement therapy on September 25th, 2021 and I've been through quite a lot on my journey to a year of HRT so I'm making two separate posts: this one focusing on the medical side and physical changes, and another that will focus on the social side of transitioning. So, here we go!

I realized I was trans the last week of August 2021, then September 9th I came out publicly, September 15th I had my first appointment with Plume, and I received my first Estradiol script September 24th, but consider my official "first day" of HRT the 25th.

I started HRT on sublingual Estradiol pills, 2mg twice a day (morning and night). Psychologically, taking the first pill hit me like a psychosomatic lightning bolt, and the first meaningful change estrogen granted me was an opening of my feelings- I could suddenly experience a "true range" of emotion, I experienced ambivalence for the first time. Physically, within the first week, I was experiencing tingling in my chest/nipples and by three weeks they actively ached, and after about two months my nipples looked different (darker, larger), and my chest started to stick out (36" to 37")

At 2 months my Estradiol was increased to three times a day and Progesterone 100mg (at night) added. By two months, my body's sensitivity had reached astronomical levels, particularly in areas that weren't sensitive before: for me, this was my nipples, armpits, and butt. My skin overall became more sensitive, slight touches made me quiver and my pain tolerance dropped sharply. During my second month my body's smell changed too and my sweat production cut back.

At 3 months, Spironolactone 50mg once a day (morning) was added and during this month my nipples had noticeably expanded and become dark enough to see through shirts, and my chest had grown enough to be noticeable small mounds in a tight shirt (38"). Also by 3 months, random erections completely stopped happening, whether asleep or awake.

Between months 3 and 5 a lot of things happened in my life; the stress and inactivity caused me to lose 50 lbs. As a result, I lost a ton of muscle mass. My thighs, upper arms, and butt became soft and jiggly, I could not lift things I could before, even with great effort.

3 month bloodwork results: E @ 133 and T @ 320

At 4 months, I asked my doctor for Finasteride, which is a DHT blocker- DHT is an androgen created by testosterone and an excess of DHT is related to hair loss, as well as some research I read back then relating to DHT and thicker/darker body hair. Since starting Finasteride, I have only shaved and used Nair on my body itself and I have experienced 75%-80% body hair loss, and much of what hair remains is now vellus hair (light, short, soft).

Between months 4 and 5, I started experiencing sexual dysfunction. Even if aroused, it was a 50/50 shot of whether I could get hard or not. Likewise, I began producing much less semen. This was when I started experimenting with different forms of masturbating too (i.e. using a vibrator).

Between months 5 and 6 I started gaining weight again, and this was when my breast growth was the greatest, going from 38" to almost 41". However, in the growth it seems I lost the sensitivity I had in the early months- my nipples and armpits are still erogenous zones, but not as potent. Additionally, I noticed fat redistribution caused my hips and waist to take a more stereotypically feminine, almost hourglass appearance (and increased from 32" and 34" respectively to 35" and 38" by 10 months).

6 month bloodwork results: E @ 258 and T @ 22

Months 7, 8, and 9 saw only slight breast growth (41 1/2") due to losing weight again from stress, but at this point I have very little body hair left, and even areas which were full before (armpits, groin) thinned out significantly over time- the most astounding of all being my butt, which the cheek hair just disappeared without me doing anything, like the hair just fell off.

Somewhere during months 8 and 9, I completely lost the ability to become erect without medication (doctor prescribed me Sildenafil, aka viagra) and no more ejaculating. Reaching orgasm became a concentrated effort instead of something that came easily, and very little clear liquid would come out during.

9 month bloodwork results: E @ 57 and T @ 28

For some reason my levels dropped between 6 and 9 months, and during that time I became very mentally and emotionally unwell due to the hormone imbalances. My doctor suggested a few things: me not waiting/letting the pill dissolve long enough in my mouth or the pill just not having the same potency on me anymore. So...

At month 10 I started injections and almost immediately started feeling much better. There is a hormonal low day for me every week, the day before I do my injection again, but it's not hard to deal with. I feel like myself!

Now months 11 and 12, nothing really noteworthy to update except I'm desperately trying to eat more so I can gain weight to grow my boobs. Just stopped taking Spiro though, but I use Tgel to maintain my girldick because I'm a Switch.

Lastly, I'd like to say I'm open to any questions anyone might have, and I'll do my best to answer them. You can DM me, email me secretly from a fake account (bellatrixnovus@gmail.com is my email), whatever! I just hope this information is of some value to someone out there!

[disacurveball]

The Terror characters as an American college fraternity

Sir John: Obviously the president. He’s an upperclassman, but is a junior. He wasn’t anyone’s first pick, but the former President and VP (Barrow and Ross) had to step down after the house gets a hazing investigation opened on it by the college. John isn’t doing a great job of stopping future hazing incidents from occurring. His house name is Puss in Boots (ate his boot while drunk).

Crozier: Very tired senior Vice-President. He has never run for an executive position before, but his situationship Sophia Cracroft asked him to make sure her cousin John doesn’t get arrested. He doesn’t go to house parties after brawling with Fitzjames over the last drops of beer in their keg, and is on mandated sobriety by the college for this incident. His house name is Gallon (nobody ask how much he drinks).

Fitzjames: The greatest Social chair that the brotherhood of Epsilon Tau has ever seen. Every year he hosts the infamous ET Toga party, which gets the cops called on it every year. He secretly is obsessed with Rupaul’s drag race which is why he’s always able to curate the most fire playlists. His house name is Madonna (it’s not a secret).

Dundy: Jock chair, obviously. Makes sure the boys are in good shape. I needn’t say any more. House name is Dundy, because that already is one.

Little: Stressed out House Man. He’s in charge of the physical upkeep of the house. That shit is literally falling apart. There are crushed beer cans everywhere, the floors are sticky, their windows are broken and there is a foul smell coming from all the couches. He’s constantly calling repair men on the weekends and crying when he has to clean up a toilet flood in the basement. His house name is Little because let’s be real, the dick jokes there are immense.

Hodgson: Recruitment chair! He makes fun Canva posters to promote Fitzjames’s parties and makes the house seem like a really fun and welcoming place to incoming freshmen PNMs (potential new members). Will he haze them when they become pledges? Sure. But he’d rather be playing Piano Man drunkenly at 2 am and yapping about linguistic facts at a party. His house name is Hodge Podge, after his assortment of fun facts.

Irving: Treasurer (treasuring the house <3) He was the only one who has experience handling funding before because he did so fundraising for his church. Giving back to the house and being in a supportive all-male environment is a Christian pleasure after all. He engages in hazing of biblical proportions. Part of the college hazing investigation was freshman pledge Magnus Manson being forced to stay in the cemetery all night. His house name is Cherub, obviously.

Jopson: The Secretary! He sends out all campus emails and takes really comprehensive meeting notes. If you need to know anything about house lore or precedent, you go to him, he knows the house constitution inside and out. This was especially helpful during the Hickey judiciary council case. His house name is just Jop because people respect him.

Hickey: Used to be a member of Epsilon Tau, but he got kicked out for being found out as the one who tipped the college off about their insane hazing. He did so because he ran for both President and VP and didn’t get elected to either. He didn’t even get elected when Barrow and Ross had to step down either. That sent him over the edge to the point where he started planting hard alcohol bottles around the house and calling the campus police to find them. They finally caught him when he recruited his friends Billy and Tozer to steal the house’s pong table. This table still resides in his off-campus rental house which he has started spreading the rumor is an unofficial new frat called “Sigma Mu”

Billy: He has never been affiliated with Greek life but joins Hickey’s new frat Sigma Mu as its Vice President. He may have been a vital part in Hickey’s decision to do this. He also unofficially acts as its treasurer and Secretary because he was already Hickey’s roommate in the rental house, so really he has no choice but to keep it afloat.

Tozer: Also used to be a part of Epsilon Tau, but gets kicked out too for helping Hickey steal the pong table, and also getting into one too many bar fights. He’s now the new Social chair/Recruitment chair at “Sigma Mu” and gets Pilkington and Armitage to join.

Des Voeux: Freshman who somehow becomes best friends with Fitzjames and Hodgson and so immediately gets into Epsilon Tau without much hazing involved. Nobody knows he’s the one who gave Hickey’s crew the new door code and info to go steal the pong table. He’s still part of ET but frequents the parties at Sigma Nu because he’s not about to say no to any rager. His house name is Des Hoeux.

Goodsir: Not part of Greek Life but he’s treated like an honorary brother of Epsilon Tau because he’s the student EMT who always gets sent to their house every party and he takes care of their drunk brothers. Somebody asks him for drugs every time he enters the building.

Blanky: Fuckmaster Blanky needs no description. He is a legend that gets past down amongst the brotherhood. Legend has it that Fuckmaster Blanky was a brother who lost his leg while doing what he loved……Recruitment chair will tell this story during initiation every year to encourage pledges to honor the house and be like Blanky.

[prettynalilmagic]

ℙ𝕚𝕔𝕜 𝔸 ℂ𝕒𝕣𝕕: 𝕊𝕙𝕒𝕕𝕠𝕨 𝕎𝕠𝕣𝕜- ℝ𝕖𝕡𝕣𝕖𝕤𝕤𝕚𝕠𝕟

Decks: Considerate Cat Tarot Vol 2, The Dark Mirror, Tarot of Pagan Cats, The Wild Unknown Archetypes

This reading will be shadow work based on what exactly are we repressing and not aware of. And how to work through it with advice from me and tarot. Take everything as a small guide, tarot is a tool for guidance and not to see or predict the future.

Pile one

First things first, Go get therapy.

"Its not about choosing the chains.

Its about choosing them again and again."

Pile one welcome to your little section. So, I had a theme card for your overall shadow, which was Addicted. At first, I was troubled with finding out exactly what type of addiction was causing you to repress your shadow, and I kept pulling cards and I realized that your shadow is built on way too many situations that come back to your dissatisfaction from your life. Pile One your addicted to hating yourself. You have heavy cards that show me that there’s this feeling of self-inflicted despair. Your shadow emits contempt for life, you hate yourself and honestly hate life overall. The hanged Man in reverse shows me that you grew up very much internally, most of your experiences are based inwardly as you felt left behind on life. Everyone seemed to reject you. Your loved ones, and people who are supposed to be close, turned their backs on you at some point so in turn you did the same. The world rejected you growing up. Life showed you, that you aren’t deserving of love, so you internalized that and have subconsciously clung onto that delusion.

Pile one do you feel like nothing can change you? Nothing can fix you? That things will stay the same or get worse over time? Have you even thought about how you feel about yourself truly? When was the last time you willingly reflected on your own self-image? Do you think there's any motivation for you to live your life beyond what traps you? Going back to your theme card, your repression is very much self-imprisoned. You don’t see you can work through any internal conflict and you in turn have been chaining your own self to depression. Nobody is perfect, that's true, but self-discovery is beautiful however it's also difficult. This won't be an easy task.

Mentally, you’re at rock bottom almost every day. Do you dissociate a lot? Do you even know if you do? Because I recently discovered that I dissociate a whole lot throughout my life and have never known I was doing it. Human brains are truly mind blowing, it can take and hold so much stress and pain, then hide it away from us so when we don’t keep reliving and feeling all that hurt.

Nobody wants to struggle and be depressed, and our brain very much plays a part in helping us hide it away. Chances are you downplay or don’t care to think or consider your own shadow self.

I'm not fit to diagnose, but pile one look into Complex Trauma, C-PTSD, and being Shame Bound. Learn about various types of traumas, habits, and attachment styles on YouTube it will help you get a rough idea on understanding what you need to improve on without using therapy. However, please if you can, look into seeing a psychologist and a therapist.

I know life is super tough as it is for you and you might not be able to afford it but research if there's anything you can afford and if you truly have searched, look into self-help groups online and self-help programs as well. There are free eBooks you can illegally get, pirate that shit. Get a tarot deck for yourself and do shadow work readings. Also please stop reading all the dumbass future partner and next lover readings, invest love into your own damn self before investing it onto some person you most likely haven’t even met or aren’t going to meet. Sorry it's a pet peeve of mine. Chances are you’re reading this on your phone or computer, get on the notes app and write out that little ass of yours. Please there’s still so many ways to make your own mental stability easier on yourself. There's so much stuff you can do if you truly look into it, I recommend watching Patrick Teahan, Heidi Priebe, Psych2Go, and Kati Morton, they're my personal favorite therapy youtubers, and they can help you.

Okay going back to the cards, and not my own personal input, the hanged man in reversed also shows me that it was your environment growing up that has formed you into who you are. Life for you looked like everything was so big and almost outta reach for you to grasp, but you’re still here, you have developed habits that has made growing up easier, you learn to get by.

Which leads me to the present, you got the 9 of cups, meaning that your experiences have made you who you are. It ties back to all those built of moments of isolation and lack of love for yourself that you grew up with. Obviously when we grow up knowing others are treating or making you feel some type of way, you take from that and build your mindset on all those experiences.

This hatred is what we use to get by and we build ourselves up to work with our hatred. You know you felt like you are replaceable or have a deep fear of being left behind, we go outta our way to justify being the ones to leave others and replace other people with anything else to get that same feeling, until the same trigger happens. It's a never-ending cycle and growing up it can actually be helpful. As a child we only experienced all the heavy emotions and were not shown consistent or significant amount of effort for our needs, so we learn to not expect that and run away from anything that triggers that little child in you. No one was there to show love so obviously unhealthy habits and mindsets get developed and grow up with us and only gets worse and worse as time flies by. Pile one, you are depressed and hopeless but cheer up, just because your life hasn’t been the best does not equate to that being a set-in stone reality for the rest of your life.

You can make your own life better; the daughter of cups reverse shows me that there's this desire to play around with stuff, just do it. Stop thinking about it, do it. Fuck shit up, stop being afraid of messing stuff up, you think the ones who have hurt you stopped when they were making you feel not cared for or loved? Nope, so just have fun.

Do that fun hobby idea you been thinking about. Get messy with life, even if it is creating something very sloppy. You want to express yourself some type of way but feel like you shouldn’t? Well just do it, even if you feel like a joke or an idiot just try it and see how it feels. Even if you don’t necessarily want to do something or show off a different look or skill, and your more so afraid of making mistakes and not being perfect, just push that thought to the back of your head.

If you spill your drink and make a mess, guess what you can clean it up, you don't have to get mad at yourself or at the drink. Shit happens, and why should you submerge yourself into all the small things with these big emotions like anger and sadness. Relax and rest those pretty eyes. Which goes into your last main card, Four of Swords. Again, relax for once, don’t guilt yourself. Everyone who has it easy, allows themself to relax from time. Even if they don’t doesn't mean that you should do the same thing. Have fun, learn more about who you are and why you are here. There’s so much self-sabotage that goes unnoticed by everyone.

Learn from yourself, thank who you had to become to get to here, and learn how to work past that when that shadow side doesn't help you anymore. You don’t have to 100% love yourself to overcome your shadow. Because here’s the thing, you’re not overcoming it, you’re learning to accept it and work with it to do better. Your shadow is who you are and use it to your ability to grow. Pile one get outta here and watch some therapy videos pls, you will be happier even for just a second.

Pile Two

"What I can't have forever, I will have for a minute. What I can't have for a minute, I will hold to me for one second."

Hello pile two, welcome to your pile. I assume for the most part your shadow is not something you shy away from because quite frankly there's not a significant amount of repression that is being displayed; I feel like this kind of shifted into a little bit of a motivational reading from your guides to tell you about one specific flaw in you rather to tackle down one serious hindering issue.

You guys got two theme cards for your theme of the overall shadow side that you're repressing. I pulled Masquerade and Queen of my world, for you pile two. Both cards have one thing in common. Both are attached to the word Bargain. Which tells me that you tend to do the most to procrastinate the process of bad emotions or habits. Masquerade is all about living in the moment and doing everything in your power to savor and dwell into the fleeting moments you so desperately want to hold onto and stick to. Queen of my world is all about holding onto a facade that hinders the possibility of being seen as anything other than graceful and powerful. You also pulled the daughter of wands in reversed. Which tells me that you procrastinate as well, and you can honestly be very disorderly as well.

You repress your shadow self because of how uncomfortable you are for being seen as who you wish you could be.

You know when we live our whole lives trying to maintain a certain image, it can be so hard and honestly draining. It makes sense why you want to slack off and just live in the moment because maintaining the way you think you have to come off to other people is very draining and if you think about it, your facade is stressful weather you are or aren't aware of it. Having live off of short moments and a false persona is only going to fulfill you for so long, do you think pretending to be stronger, smarter, or fiercer than you really going to stop you from embracing your true inner strength? Because aren't you tired of always having to consistently perform? I don't know if you are even doing it for yourself because doing that for so long will tire you out and make you unsure of who you are deep down.

Pile two, I did pull the son of cups. Which is a very charming and very appealing person to be around, this just reinforces that you will be this at all times for everyone and everything. Given that this is the card that's supposed to represent your present reality, I believe that you are a very much cookie cutter desired person. Someone who is always on top of how you appear as. All I see is that there's this big grand facade of being this person that is so desirable and welcoming. Everyone wants to present themselves in a good light to an extent but for you pile two it's very apparent that this isn't a want for you, it is a need and you do whatever needs to be done to be this beautiful picture-perfect version of yourself, but your human, so guess what? You are at a point where you have to chill out and learn to be yourself, not the ideal version at all times. It's okay to not be what everyone else wants you to be, or what your parents want you to be or whoever else you want to idealize you. You're a human, you're only capable of so much, you're flawed, and you can want to do or partake in things that are different from what should be expected from you. 

I pulled The High Priestess in reversed for you as clarification for Son of Cups.  Which tells me that you are a very spiritual person, which would make sense, you are reading a tarot reading. Besides that, it brings up to light that your inner self is not being done justice.

Do you even understand who you truly are? Not what you think you have to be to maintain approval.

This facade habit is not aligned with your highest potential. Because face it, do you think you will be happy for the rest of your life pretending to be something that isn't the real you? Just because others think you will be does not make that idea a reality, stop deceiving your true potential.

I don't want to assume but my guess is you may or may not have immigrant parents that have kind of forced this urgency to be a certain way to please them. At the end of the day, you know how you want to be or wish to be. If you don't relate to that portion obviously disregard it, it could be anything from grades, skills, and appearance. Maybe it's a controlling figure, which could be a lover or a person in power over you causing you to feel like you cannot be authentically yourself. 

The next card for you is Chariot, which is all about heading straight to where you want to be. Who you want to be. Nobody is going to be able to do it for you. You have built a wonderful mask for yourself for so long that it'll be hard to take it off and learn what you look like when you aren't wearing one. It will be unnatural to you at first, but you will get used to it. You got this pile two. I hope the best for you beautiful. 

Pile Three

"I cannot recognize myself. But I'm still me."

Welcome to your reading Pile three. I pulled two oracle cards; Downcast Pride and Is this Me, which the purpose is to reflect on the main themes of your reading. Is this Me is associated with the last stage the Dark Mirrors Oracle grief cycle, which the stage of acceptance, whereas Downcast Pride is associated with the depression stage.

Which brings up the primary point- your shadow self that is being repressed, is your own lack of attachment to joy or fulfillment for your life. This pile does remind me a lot about pile one, as both were attached to the stage of depression. There's been this emptiness in our lives for so long, that we become very dull in life and don't bother to work or see things in a way outside of that empty feeling. Yet, on contrast to pile one, pile three is more so at the phrase of depression morphing into the stage of acceptance. Pile three has wisdom and more insight compared to both previous piles. Pile three you have this inward recognition that everyone is within means of having the capacity to alter your method of thinking and act based on that. You're the more self-aware pile so congratulations on that. I got the High Priestess reversed, Nine of Cups reversed, and Two of Swords as the cards to represent what is being repressed from your past. Nine of Cups was the overall main card for the first question and when it's in reversed I read it as dissatisfaction despite all the opportunities that have been given to us. Perhaps, we overestimated what should be given or granted to us and are disappointed that we don't feel satisfied even if our needs have generally been met. In other words, even though you didn't have the worst hand in life, you're not content. It's possible, you have taken your status, or a piece of your own identity for granted. Given the length of time we have used certain facets of our identity for so long, or maybe even briefly; our perspective of our identity can very much be impacted with that facet we once were attached to and what we used to represent. And it also plays a significant role in preserving our happiness and contentment. Now, this "opportunity" or fragment of identify has gotten away as time gives space for it to vanish off. Life is all about change, it's difficult to accept yet we can't and shouldn't allow it to dictate our personal fulfillment. Change is devasting but so is self-pity, a little self-pity is healthy for you, too much is detrimental for us to expand ourselves onto newer and better things. This could mean anything, such as growing up thin and gorgeous. Years go by and now you've gained more weight than you like, eyes have become dull and wrinkly skin has formed in the corners of your eyes, forehead, arms and almost your entire body. Maybe you're blaming yourself for not earning as much money or for not being able to get the same level of love, appreciation or attention from other people. It could be anything—even a passion that ignited a fire in your life that has gradually faded over time. (Mind you, I am not saying that if you picked pile three you have to be old enough to be worrying about wrinkles or having to make more money from the previous year, any age group could pick this. School, family and mental/physical illnesses can be factors as well not just time itself.) Two of Swords also brings up a different point, that highlights being at a standoff with decision-making. Pile three, did you make a lot of decisions based off of what someone else told you was better or what would best suit someone else? Two of swords displays a lot of lack of self-assurance and I think that part of your fulfillment that's displayed from Downcast Pride roots from not being more assertive in your own personal decisions. The High Priestess is a very spiritual card, and as it is included in the spread's earlier sections, I interpret this to mean that either an inner wisdom has been present but has been clouded by the lack of purpose and achievement. You have potential, but with all this chaotic energy, you have suppressed a lot of this fulfillment. Even after all this time has passed and you still feel as though you are in the same place in life. How come you never knew or tried to figure out what you wanted to do? You're not content and have felt like happiness and fulfillment hasn't been present in life. Pile three, it has to feel devastating for you.

Another way that I’m reading the high priestess is that the high priestess is all about our inner calling and inner wisdom. Based on the other two cards, I would say that this is what is blocking off all this magical, inner wisdom being brought up. Meaning, we must solve our own issues to let our inner voice be shined. Seek assistance from anyone or any place that might help you becoming more aware of your inner reality.

You also got the Son of Cups and Judgement reversed. Which just reinforces what I said the previous paragraph. Son of Cups represents a charming and idealistic person that everyone loves and desires. Whilst Judgement reversed is highlighting missed opportunities and failure. Failure to be the Sun of Cups. Failure to grow past who you used to be.

Mourn your past. Accept it’s not with you anymore. Move on so you can grow. I am aware it’s easier said than done, but it still needs to be addressed.

Lamenting over who you wish you still were, or where you want to be is rather pointless. Stop wishing for something thats now unattainable for you. Look for the new you, answers and solutions for yourself. Morph into something better so that the old you would’ve been jealous of new present you. When you think about it, it’s actually good that some things cannot be changed because then there’s a plethora of options for growth and numerous outcomes for who we can be.

Now, I pulled Father of Swords, for advice for you to help you work through accepting your shadow self. This card is pretty straightforward, Father of Swords is a very authoritative and is someone who strives onward. He’s also someone who’s very logical and knows that in order for blessings we have to work and set ourselves up for blessings. He does what he has to do to get to where he wants to be. He dosn’t live in the past, he lives in the present while working for the future. Spirt wants me to tell you to do the same so you can work through your repression of your shadow.

[meowuff]

Okay!

First of all: I am very sorry it took so long to finish this! It had been a lot more data than last time, so I had some trouble to visualize and edit it this time around. I really hope I made it work somehow so enjoy this lil conclusion thingy and feel free to add or mention anything that comes to your mind~

In this survey I have asked a total of 188 people multiple questions surrounding sleep habits, their consume of caffein and its influence on them and got an answer from 104 of these.

So let’s beginning with the average hours per sleep these people had.

Well, as we saw in the last survey I did, most people I have asked didn’t had a good sleep schedule. The average hours that a rottmnt tumblr artist out of 104 get is 6,48 hours per night.

I tried my best to categorize the hours into 1-3; 4-6; 6-7; 7-9; 10+ h/night. The most common one being 4-6 h/night and 7-9 h/night which is a little surprising remembering that only 18% of people of my last survey actually have a “good”-sleep schedule in hindsight that the recommended amount of sleep is 7-9 hours/night.

These numbers could be explained that for a lot of people the amount of hours they sleep depends on factors like if they´re having a stressful time at the moment or how much they did over the day so the numbers itself varied often from 3-8 hours. Of course, no one sleeps the exact amount of hours every single time so the range a lot people mentioned had been partly very big.

Now that we know how many hours most artist sleep per night, we should take a look at how many hours they consider enough to technically get through the day which is 4,94 hours.

Because the answered had been very specific for most parts I decided to categorize them into full 1 till 9+ hours and steps in between as 1-2; 2-3; 3-4; etc. hours, the most common ones being 4 and 5 hours. Which is kind of close to the average amount they get.

So some could take the wild guess that a lot of people are surviving on their minimum hours per night as daily basis.

For my next question I could have been more specific with what I meant. My thought behind that question had been, how many hours are a lot in consideration to a not-so-great sleep schedule. For example, a person who usually gets 5-6 hours of sleep could consider getting 7 or 8 hours as a lot.

Some didn’t answer that part which is understandable as the meaning isn’t that clear. I still got a lot of interesting answers! For example, the average “a lot of hours of sleep” value is 9,59 hours.

Now let’s get to the caffein!

Surprisingly to me, considering the small average hour per night, 53,85% do not consume any caffein over the day and only 39,42% have it included into their daily routine. The small amount of 6,73% of people use it only as last resort.

On the other hand, after reading all the effects caffein has on most of the people I asked I am not as surprised they´re not consuming it regularly.

Talking about the different effects of caffein on people please look at the following two pictures where I tried my best to visualize the different answers as good as possible.

In the first one you can see the descriptions how the people are feeling before consuming any caffein. The bigger the word the more often it had been mentioned.

In the second you will see the way they feel after consuming any kind of caffein.

It is pretty prominent that a majority doesn’t feel any different afterwords which could be an explanation why the amount of people drinking caffein is that “small”. But even if the second biggest word is the usual effect caffein has the one directly after that are words like tired, sluggish, jittery which are most definitely affects no one likes to experience.

A lot of the described feelings could be lined to stuff like ADHD or insomnia or anything else where caffein can show a paradox or even negative effect on someone. I have read that a lot of people still like to consume drinks with caffein in it but not because of the effect but more for the taste.

As someone who needs to drink either very strong coffee or energy to actually feel any effect of the caffein, I found it very interesting to see that people mentioned to enjoy drinking tea as little energy boost.

For me tea, or coke or any other caffeinated soda, has such a little amount of caffein in it that I, for myself, didn’t even had it categorized as something that could be used as little caffein booster.

It hadn’t been a question, but I still noted down the kind of drinks people choose to drink as daily caffein source, which actually shows that coffee is the usual to go drink but again, surprisingly lot told me that they don’t drink tea (or anything else) as daily basis but more randomly whenever they feel like it.

In the end, what can we conclude out of all this messy information?

So, the usual hours you should sleep is put on 7-8 hours per night.

The average hours out of 104 artists in the rottmnt tumblr bubble is 6,48 hours per night with a minimum needed of 4,94 hours to get through the day. The maximum hours got in a night lay by 9,6 hours.

53,85% of these 104 go through their every day without the help of any caffein.

39,42% have caffein included into their daily routine.

6, 73% see caffein only as their last resort and try to avoid consuming any for as long as possible.

Thank you, a lot, for reading so far and thousand thanks to all the people participating in this lil survey again! I had a lot of fun doing this and I hope this little conclusion here is entertaining enough to make it worth having to answer my “few” questions!

If you want to share your own opinion or point out any mistakes I may have made, please feel free to do so~

I wish everyone a happy day and or good night!

If you are interested into my first survey, pls click here :3 Special Thanks to all of the participants!!! @heckitall @triona-tribblescore @butterfilledpockets @crownedcrowrow @pezhead @wraenata @zinovi768 @cokowiii @idiot-mushroom @less-depresso-more-espresso @mightyanxiety @sweeneydino @2aceofspades @mobiitez @onejellyfishplease @titenoute @arrora-art @indieyuugure @tblsomedoodles @theelvishfiddler @tasenwiththerobots @iredoodles @sushixstar @turrondeluxe @signanothername @adorabledrugl0rd @mr-doodles @theastroghost @djpachipikachu @hellishgayliath @frosteaart @godsfaultycreations @koolaidashley @soda-kazoo @tapakah0 @v-albion @sad-leon @angelpuns @sharkfinn @venelona-turtle-den @goatedgreen @graphitehybrid @laseralligator @peach-moths @vangh17a @debb987 @lieutenantbiscute @sunnyyyteaaa @0ransje @manga-toons

[turtlesandfrogs]

So, here's the problem: the longer I work in gardening and landscaping, the more I care about the ecological impacts of native plants, and the less I care about aesthetics. Which is a problem, when most clients' primary concern is that their yard looks nice. Which, fair, I just don't care as much about it as they do and I feel like I could be making a bigger impact than I currently am.

So I'm thinking of quitting this job and going one of two entirely different directions, and for some reason it's rather hard to choose.

Option A is starting my own native plant nursery, which would focus on small (4 inch and gallon pot sized) native plants, with a focus on plants that are most important for native pollinators (especially those that are endangered or threatened where I am). There's some competition, but mostly at selling-to-landscapers level and not retail, and I'd want to focus on retail sales.

Option B is to get a job with the state doing some kind of ecological restoration work. The problem with that is my bachelor's degree is over a decade old and I don't actually have the kind of experience to put on my resume that would likely convince them that I can do the work (unless a combination of teaching and being self-employed as a gardener that helps people incorporate native plants and removes invasive species counts, which maybe?). So I'd probably have to take a lower level job and one that's further away to get in, and then work my way up.

Option A has the upsides of: completely setting my own schedule, getting to work with plants most of the time, getting to work with my partner, flexibility to decide I want to start teaching classes again or something. It has the down sides of having to do taxes multiple times per year, and not being guaranteed to work, and either needing to take out a business loan to get started or work at a day job to fund starting it up. Also if it fails I'll have to get another job without have professional references again, which yikes.

Option B has the upside of once you're in state work, it's way easier to get other state jobs so if I burn out of one job, I can hop to another relatively easily, will almost certainly make more money, comes with health insurance and retirement savings, and is likely the more stable option. On the down side, it would mean working 40 hours a week without getting to pick my schedule and it would be harder to take time off than it is now, I'll have to work my way up to a comfortable salary, and there's a lot less autonomy than when self employed. But I'll also have professional references out the wazoo, so finding new jobs should be easier?

One of the things that concerns me is I have ADHD and up until teaching, the longest I ever stayed in one job was almost 2 years. I taught for 4 years, then was self-employed as a gardener for 4 years, and now I've worked for this landscaping company for just over a year (and am grumpy about a) not making much money and b) aesthetics and only providing services to people who can afford us, rather than say, improving the environment for everyone). So I'm actually kinda afraid that if I started the native plant nursery, I would get sick of it after less than 5 years and be starting from scratch again. Whereas with a state job, I can pop over to a new job fairly easily. On the other hand, maybe I'm just doubting myself too much because all of those other jobs were actually really bad matches for me.

Anyway, my brain is going in circles over this. I mean, really, part of me thinks I should stay at this job even though it doesn't pay much compared to what I could make elsewhere (I have learned a lot though, which can be transfered to other jobs) just because it's so low stress compared to any other job I've had in the last decade & because the people are great and the work isn't bad. It just galls me that occasionally clients have ideas that I strongly disagree with, like cutting down a very nice magnolia tree because "it's too big" and I just have to do it because I'm an employee now. Ugh.

[turnleftonlastlaughtlan]

SPOILERS ARCANE SEASON 2 ACT 2

ok, i am gonna admit it. Jayce did the right thing. Viktor had to die because the hexcore he was in contact with was cursed (as jayce’s says).

What bothers me tho is two things :

First i am still fucking mad at jayce. Do i understand him more? sure. but he did this. if not all he is the one that “saved” the real viktor by fusing him with hexcore, the very thing he sweared to vik to destroy. Viktor lived again, yes, but wasn’t himself for most of it, a puppet unaware of its strings. So so different form the quirky scientist or the determinated zaunite we knew. Jayce cursed Viktor by giving him “a new life” all for his foolishness and selfishness ( he couldn’t handle living a life without his lab partner). He is the perpetrator of what the remains of viktor has to suffer : dying again by the hand of a loved one ( one of the few or the very last remaining). Instead of saving Viktor, leaving him to die like the man he was, with the memory of WHO he really was, he condemned him to even more suffering than his fatal illness bought him.

i know he did it for the famous affection. i don’t care. Jinx didn’t want to kill her family but that doesn’t mean that she didn’t do it.

Second of all, as my favorite character dies again i am incredibly mad at how wonderfully they butchered him. The viktor of season one goes through changes, but he still remains him. The viktor i loved died in the bomb jinx threw at the council. From that point on is just a mere sketch of how he was. We only get a glimpse when he helps vander with “Sky”. His true sweet self. I cannot stress how it infuriates me that we DID NOT and CANNOT grive that man. Because he never really died hasn’t he? Not yet at least. I want closure, i want to be able to say that his story ended how it need to, not because his best friend decided that it was a good idea to fuse him to the thing he despised and then kill him off after he realized just how much he fucked up. Because yeah there wasn’t much of Vik left but is true self still saw Jayce hold the weapon made with the thing they created TOGETHER straight at his heart and shoot.

and he fucking didn’t deserved it. He didn’t want to be fucking jesus for god sake (or jesus sake suit yourself), he just wanted to help his people. His only mistake was experiment on HIMSELF using illegal drugs and without consulting jayce ( that we all know now would have understood). Him literally self harming himself to HOPE for a way out of his pain is his only mistake that resulted in the death of sky. Which was a fucking accident, other then that the man was doomed since birth without cause like a true zaunite. And hell did he paid enough for the death of sky.

i just know for a fact they are gonna revive him again and now that i have processed everything i am PRAYING they don’t. Because if they do it WILL NOT be Viktor, just and even more ugly and butchered imagine of what was is true self. Only to use him like an easy villan for the story.

let the man rest.

And if they do bring him back they better prepare a good ending or a proper goodbye for the true viktor.