North America Is Dominating Specialty Lighting Market 

The specialty lighting market value will reach USD 8,746.1 million by 2030 from USD 5,590.2 million in 2022, at a 5.8% CAGR. This development can be attributed to the growing need for advanced lighting solutions throughout the medical, entertainment, and other industries, for special drives. For example, UV lights are majorly utilized for the disinfection of air, surface, and…

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Eris x Rhysands!Sister Reader

Summary: Anon Req: Literally in love with every fic you write. I know your requests are closed but in the future, could you write something where Eris and the reader see each other and there’s a lot of tension and they’re secretly mates but no one knows? I’m curious to see how you’d end it!

Warnings: Angst

Word Count: 1,428

[Part One]

Notes: Obsessing over this one.

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You swallow harshly at your brother’s question, eyes darting over to catalogue your mate. You try not to startle in your seat when a wall of harsh autumn winds slams between your bond. He’s only protecting you; you must remind yourself. There’s a fine tremble to your hands, so you clench them together in your lap. 

Azriel notes the move, your restlessness as Rhysand stares down your mate like these are his last moments on this plane of existence. You have no idea what Rhysand’s going to do to Eris, but with the thick darkness rolling from his shoulders and slowly filling the room, whatever it might be will not be good.

You cannot let that happen. 

“Rhysand—"

Your brother holds up a hand, his glare swinging towards you. The thin line of betrayal ringing his eyes makes your stomach roil. You hadn’t meant to break his trust and you never intended on keeping secrets from him, but with the courts on the edge of war…

“Do. Not. Speak.” Rhysand’s demand is a death knell of its own. When you were young, you remember how he’d always been the one to listen to any of your problems, even when they felt silly. He would always offer you a solution if you were looking for one, or a piece of cake if you only wanted to wallow in your feelings. 

The smell of burning wood answers his harsh words. 

Cassian shifts in his seat, eyeing Eris. He leans further back in his chair and places his hand on the table, the wicked curve of the short blade clutched firmly in his hand pointing directly at your mate.

Your bond flares, eyes going hard at the sight of the threat to your mate. You’re ready to jump out of your seat, scramble across the table to tackle the male, no matter how much you consider him family. You know all of Cassian’s weak spots, and your gaze is calculating as you decide which maneuver will draw him away from your mate.

The single look Eris sends you keeps you from reacting. 

Instead, you settle back in your seat, showing Eris your unfaltering trust for him. You will allow your mate to say his piece to your brother. You might be crossing your arms over your chest with a hard look all your own, but you will heed Eris’ silent ask of you.

Eris is a mask of nonchalance, and you wish he hadn’t blocked you from his feelings, but it’s better this way. He cannot have your reactions to your brother muddling his own feelings. It’s safer for the both of you to keep to yourself right now, no matter how much you hate the idea of being apart from him like this.

“I will ask you once more,” Rhysand’s voice is filled with smoke. “How long have you been putting your filthy fucking hands on my sister.”

Something flares in Eris’ russet eyes that makes you want to bite, to snarl at your brother for his cruelness. You gnaw the insides of your cheeks to keep from snapping. 

“Would hearing that answer please you, High Lord?” Eris snarks back. He sits easily in his seat as if this isn’t an interrogation at all, as if they’re all bantering over the weather and Rhysand isn’t looking at him like he’s about to unleash the beast within him that he keeps on a short chain. The only give to Eris’ temper are the burnt handprints on the armrests of the chair he’s lounging in. “To know that the fires of autumn light the stars of night?” 

You want to hiss at him for his words. You should’ve known better that Eris would do nothing but taunt your brother. He is nowhere near as powerful as Rhys, especially since he is still under the rule of his father, but his specialty is that mouth of his. 

You try not to think about how he uses that mouth when he’s with you, the yearning for him flooding your body so deeply you clench your thighs together. Another motion that Azriel tracks, cocking his head a little as he watches you with that unnervingly stoic face of his. You shoot him a pleading look but are unable to make out how he reads into your pleas not to hurt your mate.

Rhysand bares his teeth in warning. The flare of his nostrils and the stars winking out of his eyes tells you that he’s moments away from unleashing his wrath upon Eris.

“Two years,” you blurt and all gazes swing your way. You don’t look at anyone else except for Eris, your eyes soft and pleading. His eyes flicker back and forth between yours and his shoulders slump a little, cracking the steel trap blocking your bond to send down a cool rush of apology that you accept with a soft nod. “We’ve been mated for two years.” 

There’s a sharp exhale coming from your brother but you can’t look away from your mate. Two years since you offered him that dessert from your favorite bakery the one time you’d been able to sneak away from your brother and his friends to meet Eris at the portal where Night crossed into Autumn. 

Two years of fiery, passionate nights, hidden away in your own solace. Two years of a fresh breath of autumn, of copper hair and russet eyes and the warmest hands you’ve ever had the pleasure of touching. Two years of unyielding loyalty. Two years of too much time spent apart—

No more. You won’t have it. Rhysand can act as protective older brother as much as he wants but it isn’t going to stop you from being with Eris any longer.

Darkness of your own ekes out of you as you plant your hands on the smooth surface of the table and rise. You stare Rhysand down as the tendrils of black wind around his, Azriel, and Cassian’s wrists, pinning them to their spots. You are in no way matching Rhysand’s power, but he seems at a loss for words as you stand up for yourself, watching with those all too calculating feline eyes of his, allowing you your time.

Stalking around the table, you don’t break the High Lord’s gaze. You hold your chin high even if there’s a pinch of terror in your gut for this continued betrayal to your brother, to your court. But he has no idea what you’ve given up for this bond, how you’ve suffered being kept from your mate. 

One day, you hope Rhysand will understand. Will understand why you halt a step behind where your mate is still trapped to his chair. Why you place a hand on his shoulder, the feeling of him after so long filling your lungs to maximum capacity. You haven’t ben able to breathe fully since you’ve been away from each other. 

He’ll understand why it is that your actions look like you’re swearing fealty to another court, when you’ve already been a patron of autumn ever since you and Eris completed your mating bond. 

“What are you—“ Your brother breathes when he realizes the severity of what you’re doing.

“I will not be kept from my mate any longer.” Your words are loud and sure. You think you’ve done a good job at standing up to Rhysand, until his eyes flicker and the house shakes on its studs.

All of the air is sucked from the room at your words. The strip of skin you’re touching on Eris’ neck warms, but it does little to settle you. You’re not out of the clear yet.

Slowly, all too slowly, Rhysand leans back in his seat. The way he’s looking at you makes you shift in your spot, the disbelief and  in his eyes a bright streak before he snuffs it out, returning to the easy role of High Lord he’s practices meticulously for centuries. 

It hurts to see.

With a careless flick of his hand he breaks through your shadows with ease. All of the darkness in the room dissipates, ever faithful to their master. You only hold an ounce of power compared to him. 

The corner of his mouth curves, and if it’s a smirk or a snarl you don’t know, but neither is as harrowing as the words that slip past his lips. “I wonder which will get you killed faster—your loyalty or your love.” Rhysand stands, turning his back on you as he stalks towards the door. “Get out of my court.”

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Tagging those who commented if you don't want to be tagged on this just lmk <3 Some of you couldn't be tagged btw

Hide Taglist: @littlestw01f @aelin-thefirebreathingbitchqueen @naturakaashi @lexluvswriting @chybay22 @roseliey @acotar-thirst @teenagellamaangel @minaethrym @tothestarsandwhateverend @coolepowersthings @lena-davina @xyzmeh @meritxellao @shadowdaddysposts @callsigns-haze @mrs-azriel @eminvelaris @daily-does-of-sass @kennedy-brooke

love when writers show the bat kids trying to show affection to Tim but since they are all so different in how they show it, Tim doesn’t think it’s love or care.

like Dick did all his case work for him while Tim was on a trip, Dick must think Tim’s incompetent!! (In reality he just saw how tired Tim is all the time and wanted to help)

Lack of communication is the Bats' specialty. Seeing this in a more positive light, such as them not effectively communicating affection/care, is a bit more refreshing than their usual secret-keeping lack of communication.

You are correct that they would try to say "Hey I'm worried/care about you" and fail at getting that message across.

Some ways the Bats show concern/love that get misinterpreted:

Damian likes to be physically present around someone he loves. He doesn't state this as the reason, though, and may get accused of plotting something or psychological warfare.

Cass will use body language to fully demonstrate how much she loves someone. If they aren't picking up on those cues, she'll try to speak it as well. It just feels less genuine with words

Dick, like you mentioned, will help someone with their work. He'll also try to take them to do a fun activity to take their mind off things.

Tim will monitor someone (stalk them) to make sure they're alright and don't need anything. He'll arrange solutions for them (such as notifying friends or other Bats to help them).

Steph will try to make someone laugh if they seem to be feeling down. She'll rope them into venting or pranking depending on the need.

Jason will give gruff physical affection (shoulder bumps, ruffled hair, back pats, etc).

Duke tries to ask someone what's wrong and why they are feeling so down.

Alfred will fret.

Barbara will give them extra information for whatever they are working on (Bat related or not).

Calcinidae Bay Lot Tour: Marine Discovery Centre

I finally got around to picking the terrains I wanted to use for Calcinidae Bay's subhoods, so the Bay now officially has a(n as-of-yet unnamed) Downtown! Yay! Let's take a look through the only currently-finished lot there, the Marine Discovery Centre and Aquarium.

First I wanna shout out @dirtfauna for suggesting I build an aquarium and getting me thinking about this in the first place! As I was putting on the finishing touches I was also inspired by seeing @lolabythebaysims's gorgeous lot influenced by the Belle Isle Aquarium.

Before I get into the lot, I need to show the original Sims 4 shell for reference. It's "what the.. shell?" uploaded to the Gallery by simbellaz, and as you'll see, it was both perfect for and wildly impractical as the basis for an aquarium.

I don't normally go for shell challenges that have so many internal walls, but all those little 1-tile-wide hallways were practically SCREAMING to be made into fish tanks! The external "walls" you see added to my TS2 shell are all either actually half-walls, fences, or just windows placed with moveobjects, all of which are allowed within a standard shell challenge. It may seem like a cop-out, but it's more limiting/challenging than you'd think.

But enough preamble. Let's take a look inside!

The entrance is also a small gift shop. It seems like every aquarium I've ever been to has also sold jewellery. Don't ask me about my tiny penguin earrings.

I really wanted a "fish tank tunnel" vibe, and the effect was... almost perfect, lol. Close enough for a shell challenge IMO. I so so badly wanted to break my CC-free rule to place some fish shaders, but I'm glad I stuck to my guns because I think the solution I came up with looks goofy but effective. (Plus you wouldn't see them in build/buy anyway.)

Ooohhhh jellyfish tank ooohhhhhh they're so lifelike and graceful

I have my fun.

That little "airlock" room is a fun pirate-y undersea exhibit that connects to the outside and is probably where school field trips would loop around rather than heading upstairs.

Through the pirate's cabin is a touch pool and tactile play room where kids can inspect rubber anatomical fish models. I like to imagine the TV plays a short looping movie featuring a B-grade celebrity talking to a cartoon bass about the water cycle, fish spawn, and pollution.

The outdoor area is where the field trip groups would probably eat their packed lunches, fill out activity sheets, and take a commemorative photo with the world's worst greenscreen that's supposed to make it look like you're underwater but just ends up eating half your hair and shirt.

If you're not a student and you're just here for the love of fish, you'd probably head upstairs to get a closer look at the fish tunnel, smaller specialty tanks, and the squid/octopus models. (This room is technically considered outdoors thanks to the shell so tbh I'm not sure how lighting/temperature would behave during gameplay.)

The third floor has more tanks, some hands-on displays about aquatic plants and marine ecology, and finally a room with the actual floor-to-ceiling aquarium objects.

I thought this would be an interesting lot to run as an owned business, so I included a small employee area tucked behind the guest toilet block on the ground floor. It also helped to naturalistically answer "how would Sims feed themselves if their outing wouldn't stop complaining they were hungry," a concern I keep in mind whenever I make a lot I think would be a nice place to take a date.

And here's the floorplan! This lot had a pretty severe ugly stage but I'm really really happy with what we ended up with and the vibe I achieved without any CC. Hope you enjoyed reading this far and that it could give you some decorating inspiration!

What would the COD MWII men do if they found out you had a stalker

[A little self indulgent peice since I had a scare last night. Getting stalked in like my specialty so let me know if you want a full length peice 🤪]

SFW short peice, COD men x GN! Reader, mostly platonic but can be read as romantic too.

Cw: Stalking

Price

-Price would be on top of it. Replacing locks, installing cameras anything to make you feel safe.

-He would make an effort to spend time with you more often, pick you up from work, drop you off ect. And when he couldn't he would try to get freinds to stay with you so you didn't have to be alone

-He would want you to call the cops and report it but he wouldn't be pushy if it makes you uncomfortable.

-If he actually met your stalker he'd let them know, in no uncertain terms, that if they continued they would never walk again.

Graves

-Graves would probably get violent the fastest of anyone on this list. He seems possessive so anyone threatening 'his girl/boy/partner' would be a no go.

-He would push you to report it to the cops and I don't think he'd take no as an answer.

-He'd also want you to call off of work while he did some 'investigation' of his own.

-He might even come home with a German Shepard puppy so that you can have a 'guard dog' which would end up being spoiled

Ghost

-I thinking Ghost would be the most analytical of the group. Which may make you think he's just brushing it off at first, when he's really just thinking up solutions.

-You already have a guard dog so he sets out and buys motion activated flood lights and trail cameras.

-He'd make sure you didn't have to do anything, he'd call your boss, change your number, call the cops if you wanted. All so you don't have to worry.

-The day after telling him you'd wake up to a pantry stocked with your favorite treats (which Gaz delivered so that Ghost wouldn't have to leave you).

Soap

-Soap would freak out at first, he'd ask you a million questions and probably make you panic before apologizing.

-He'd run you and bath and call either Ghost or Price to ask for advice.

-After you're done the both of you would go to the hardware store and booby trap the house, Home Alone style. Which would make you laugh.

-He would also set real safety measures in place, Window locks, Cameras, Alert system you name it.

-He would spend every moment distracting you while the problem got fixed.

Gaz

-Normally silly Gaz would become very silent when you told him. Quietly anger radiating off of him.

-I headcannon Gaz as having had bad anger issues as a kid which he got under control as he got older.

-Gaz would get up and put you in the shower while he made phone calls. Putting on your comfort show when you got out and sitting on the couch with you, rubbing your shoulder absent-mindedly.

-There would be a knock at the door and it would be one of his old police buddies. Gaz would apologize because he knew it would be hard to tell what happened, but it was important to get this guy caught.

-He'd stay home with you when he could and using his connections he would do whatever he could to get you an escort when he wasn't.

-When whoever was stalking you got caught he would roast the shit out of what they looked like (petty I know) making you laugh.

Alejandro

-Alejandro would be very vocal almost immediately, comforting and coddling you before setting off to fix the problem.

-He would round up Rudy and go find the person himself. Verbally (and maybe just a little physically) threatening them.

-He'd get back to comforting you as fast as possible though. Assuring you that you're safe and no one could harm you.

-He'd be more protective, almost overbearing for a week or two. He doesn't want this to ever happen again

-Depending on how bad it was he might adopt a little yappy dog (chihuahua, rat terrier, Yorkie, you know the type) to act as a first warning system and companion.

Rudy

-Rudy would start comforting you immediately, before making calls to freinds.

-Both Rudy and Alejandro don't trust the local police and army so it narrows down the number of people that can help. He'd probably go straight to Los Vaqueros.

-He would make you some comforting food while he waits for Intel. Sitting on the couch to eat instead of the dining table like normal.

-When the call finally came that your stalker had been captured he would go down to the base to confront them himself. Causing a nasty black eye before Alejandro pulled him off.

-Afterwards he'd teach you how to shoot. He wants you to be innocent and pure, but not at the cost of your life

Can you do a Benny weir fic where the reader is like a cupid or something and she had transferred to the gangs school to help people find their soulmates. Obviously the gang gets suspicious of her just like they pretty much do to everyone and spy on her. One day the gang sees her about to shoot a love arrow at someone and Benny tackles her but because of that he ends up falling in love with her. The gang and reader can't seem to figure out how to get him to leave her alone he's constantly clinging to her and kissing her cheek and resting his head on top of hers. In the end the gang figured out a solution but it didn't matter because they fell in love with each other anyways.

A Nudge (Benny Weir X Cupid!Reader)

Masterlist

Request Something!

Summary: As a descendant of Cupid, Y/n moved to Whitechapel to help people find and connect with their soulmates. The supernatural gang gets suspicious of the new girl. What happens when they catch her about to shoot a love arrow and Benny gets hit?

***

When the gang heard that there was a new girl in town, they immediately became suspicious. Whenever new people came to Whitechapel, it usually ended in the group finding out that they were some kind of supernatural villain and an exhausting fight. It was honestly getting old.

However, Y/n L/n, the new girl in town, didn’t know any of this. This is why she was so confused whenever she’d catch a group of teens hanging around her from a distance, borderline glaring at her with curiosity and suspicion. It made her even more aware of her surroundings. But sometimes, you get lost in the moment.

Y/n was currently at the park, leaning against a tree as she stared at a pair of friends. The two were interacting with a smile but, at the same time, seemed very bashful. Y/n knew why perfectly well. Being a descendant of Cupid, she knew all about romance and love. Her specialty is being able to spot soulmates.

That had been why she moved to Whitechapel in the first place. Being a descendant of a god came with some responsibilities. Hers was to go around giving people the little nudge they needed to be with the person their soul was connected to. Which was what Y/n was about to do.

She could see Jenny and Matt’s connection from miles away. They seemed to be at that stage of “we’re friends who both know we want each other, but we’re still too scared to act on it.” This is where Y/n came in, ready to shoot an arrow to give the two the boost of confidence they needed.

Unbeknownst to Y/n, who was drawing an arrow, a certain group of teenagers watched her from a small distance. They were surprised as she pulled back the arrow, none of them knowing what to do. Benny was the first to act. Not really thinking, he just started running.

One moment, Y/n was ready to help two lovebirds. The next, she was on the ground, bow and arrow knocked out of her grip with a body lying on her. She looked up to see dark green eyes and an expression that slowly went from panicked to lovey-dovey.

Shit.

Looking around, she saw that the tip of her arrow had hit the strange boy on their way down. While gently pushing him up and off of her, she saw his friend group run over to them.

“What did you do to him?” A small dark-haired boy asked somewhat venomously, pulling the lovestruck boy away from her, despite his light protest. Y/n went from worried to angry.

“What did I do to him? He tackled me!” She said, picking up her bow and arrow.

“Why do you even have that?” The boy asked, gesturing to her equipment. 

“I… like archery.” Y/n tried to lie. A blonde girl started getting closer to her, baring her teeth. Y/n noticed that her canines were more like fangs, realizing that she wasn’t the only non-human person in Whitechapel.

“Wanna try that again?” The blonde asked. A blonde boy and the other girl came behind her, also showing sharp teeth. Y/n took a deep breath, looking around to ensure no one was nearby. She noticed that Jenny and Matt had left, which pissed her off. But at the least, the group was now alone.

“Okay, the only reason I’m not dusting you with memory dust right now is because I know you’re not exactly human. At least most of you.” She glanced at the two dark-haired boys, one inching closer to her with a grin while the other tried holding him back. “I’m basically a however-many-great’s grandchild of Cupid. Hence, the bow and arrow. I was about to give two soulmates a nudge towards each other, which is my job, by the way, but someone tackled me and got hit instead.”

“So you hit Benny with a love arrow?” Y/n was somewhat surprised that her being a descendant of a god didn’t seem to phase them.

“It wasn’t intentional!” Y/n whined. She had no idea how to solve this problem.

“I wouldn’t even need a love arrow,” Benny said, grinning at the girl while finally breaking out of his friend’s grasp. “One look at her, and I was hooked.” He moved to stand next to her.

Y/n was a love professional of sorts. But she had never experienced it personally, being too busy with others’ relationships and moving around too much to ever really connect with someone. So Benny’s words quickly brought heat to her cheeks, which she tried to ignore.

“Is he gonna be like this forever?” The blonde boy asked, staring at Benny in confusion. Y/n sighed, frustrated at the situation.

“I don’t know!” She sensed Benny moving even closer to her, which she reluctantly allowed because of the circumstances. “I’ve never struck anyone I wasn’t supposed to hit before! My magic wears off when soulmates get to the stage of their connection that I was supposed to help them get to. I have no clue how long your friend’s gonna be like this.”

The group, besides Benny, looked stumped, having no idea how to proceed.

“Oh, it’s okay, Lovebug. It wasn’t your fault.” Benny put a comforting hand on Y/n’s shoulder. “You’ll figure something out. Or I can stay like this! I don’t mind.”

“We mind.” Benny’s friend group interjected.

“Come on, B.” The dark-haired boy held his hands out, trying to coax Benny towards him. “Let’s get you to my place.” Benny gasped, feeling giddy.

“Can Y/n come?” This confused the girl. She never remembered telling him her name. But she was brought out of her thoughts when Benny put his hands on her shoulders to pull her closer. “Please, E?”

Everyone contemplated the idea. She was still a stranger, but they don’t know what Benny would do if he was separated from the one he “loved.” The dark-haired vampire girl spoke.

“We might as well let her come with us, Ethan. She might be able to help us break whatever spell he’s under, and we can ask her more questions about why she’s here in the first place.” Y/n rolled her eyes. She was willing to try to help the group fix their friend, but being subjected to their interrogations on top of it seemed draining. But everyone looked at her expectantly, waiting for an answer.

“Please, come, Y/n.” Benny pouted, giving her puppy dog eyes. Y/n couldn’t help but soften a little at the sight. 

“Fine.”

***

Y/n felt weird, to say the least. She was sitting on Ethan’s couch with Benny cuddled up to her, surrounded by the rest of their friends. They looked between the two, waiting for something to happen.

“Well? Any ideas?” Ethan asked.

“No, this has never happened before.” Y/n groaned in frustration. Benny kissed her cheek, something he’d done regularly since they left the park, to try to comfort her. Y/n had weirdly grown fond of his affection, not really knowing why.

“Well, what usually happens when you shoot people?” Rory asked. Y/n cringed at his wording.

“That’s just gruesome, man.”

“Well, what do you call it then?”

“...I don’t really call it anything. I try to keep the whole cupid thing under wraps, so I don’t exactly have names for stuff.” Y/n smiled awkwardly before going back to Rory’s first question. “When I hit someone with an arrow, I’m giving them a little push toward their soulmate. If they don’t know each other yet, the nudge helps them meet. If they’re both too scared to make a move, what I do helps one of them make one.”

“So why is Benny all over you?”

“I dunno. Maybe his soulmate is too far, so my magic made him latch onto the first person he saw.”

“You don’t know who his soulmate is?” Erica asked. “I thought you were like a love god or something.”

“I’m not a love god; I’m in one’s lineage. I have powers, but they’re a bit limited. So no, I don’t know who Benny’s soulmate is. They have to be near each other for me to sense it.”

“I already know who my soulmate is.” All attention turned to Benny at his comment.

“Who, Benny?” Ethan asked adamantly.

“Y/n.” The girl could feel the lovey-dovey energy radiating off the boy as the group groaned at his answer. He cuddled further into her, and she allowed it by putting an arm around his shoulders. “Y/n is my soulmate. Y/n is my soulmate.” He goofily sang, smushing his cheek into her shoulder.

“If I knew how to undo this, I would. Believe me.” Y/n whispered, fighting the smile that tried to make its way to her face.

***

A week had passed, and they still had no idea how to reverse the effects of Y/n’s arrow. The girl spent more time with the supernatural group. For Benny’s sake, she would say. She didn’t want to admit it because of how often she would move around, but she grew a bit fond of the group and the antics they would get up to when they weren’t trying to solve their current problem.

Plus, it was amusing for her to watch Sarah and Ethan interact. Y/n could sense their feelings before she’d see them.

“Hey, N/n!” Benny’s cheerful voice sounded, coming closer to her. She lit up, especially when Benny kissed her cheek as a greeting.

“Hey, Bens.” Benny and Y/n had been spending a lot of time together because Benny just couldn’t seem to get enough of her. She was developing her own little crush but chose to keep it a secret. They still had no idea if Benny would stop feeling this way toward Y/n if they figured out a way to stop the effects of her magic.

“You okay?” He asked, analyzing her somewhat blank expression as she went off in thought. She shook them away, closing her locker.

“Yeah. Walk me to class?” Benny answered by taking her hand, enthusiastically swinging them back and forth as they walked to her English class. They talked about the hangout that the group had planned for tomorrow night, deciding they could walk to Ethan’s house by the time they reached Y/n’s class. They said goodbye to each other, and she went in to sit in her spot next to Ethan.

“How’s it going with Benny?” He asked, taking things out of his backpack. Y/n shrugged, doing the same.

“Fine. The effects are wearing off a bit, but not too much. I don’t really mind, though; I’ve gotten used to it.” Ethan nodded.

“What will happen if we can’t fix him?” The words stung a little, despite Y/n knowing what he meant. It sounded like he was saying that Benny liking her was a problem. “I mean, you move around a lot. How will that affect him?”

“I don’t know,” Y/n whispered, partially because the teacher was about to begin the lesson and partly because she felt she no longer wanted to talk.

***

The short conversation Y/n had with Ethan was stuck in her mind the next day. What if she had to leave and the magic hadn’t worn off? What if she stayed, and it did wear off? What if the time they’ve spent together would soon mean nothing?

There was a knock on Y/n’s front door, so she pushed the thoughts out of her mind. Slipping her shoes on, she opened the door to see the guy who seemed to constantly be on her mind.

“Ready?” Benny asked. Y/n nodded, and they left, making their way to Ethan’s house. The walk was peaceful, the air crisp and the leaves turning different shades of red and yellow.

“Are you okay?” Benny asked, squeezing Y/n’s hand to get her attention. “You’re being really quiet.”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Y/n quickly nodded, but it didn’t convince Benny. “Just thinking about things.”

“What kind of things?”

“Just… things.”

“Are you thinking about how to make me stop liking you?” Y/n abruptly stopped from his question, making Benny stumble a little. He looked a little sad but kept a smile as he waited for her response.

“What do you mean?”

“I’m not dumb, N/n. I know you guys are trying to figure out how to wear off your magic.” Benny’s eyes darted to the ground, kicking around stray pebbles and leaves. “Honestly, I don’t even think this is all because of the arrow. I remember that I still thought of you before it. I’d wonder about who you were and all the different ways I could try to become friends with you.”

Y/n didn’t say anything, so Benny continued.

“I mean, what if I’m acting like this because we’re actually soulmates like I think we are? You’ve only nudged people who you knew were soulmates. Is it really so hard to believe that we could be soulmates, and you just can’t see it because you’ve only seen other people with their soulmates? You literally have love powers; please don’t tell me that you’ve never thought there was even a possibility that you would have a soulmate like everyone else.”

Y/n sighed. A small part of her had always wondered if she had a soulmate of her own. It only amplified when she accidentally struck Benny, but she pushed the thoughts away, thinking it was because of the magic.

But honestly, what Benny said was making sense. As far as she knew, her magic gave people a nudge toward who they were meant to be with. They had never fully considered that her magic was just doing the same for her and Benny. They had never interacted before her arrow accidentally hit him. Possibly, the magic was amplified because his soulmate had love powers of sorts.

“Please, say something, Y/n,” Benny whispered, squeezing her hand again.

“Can I kiss you?” Benny hadn’t expected her to say that. But nonetheless, he nodded and moved closer to her, waiting for her to make the move. Y/n’s hand that wasn’t held in Benny’s moved up to cup his face. She took a deep breath before pressing her lips to his.

Benny’s breath hitched as he pulled her closer with his free hand. Y/n had never kissed anyone before, but she knew that if she had, this kiss would’ve felt entirely different than any she would’ve experienced. It was like new knowledge had flooded her brain, taking over all her senses.

He was her soulmate. And she was his.

The two broke apart, leaning their foreheads against each other. They were both deep in thought. Y/n realized she couldn’t leave town like she’d done in the past. Benny was here, and so were her new friends.

“I knew it.” Benny grinned. Y/n laughed, pecking him on the cheeks.

“You really did.”

They started to continue their adventure to Ethan’s house, closer than when they started. When they reached the house, Benny opened the door, and they walked in. They heard a commotion in the living room and curiously made their way through the hallway.

“Thank god you guys are here!” Ethan exclaimed, quieting everyone else down. “We finally figured it out. We just have to find out who Benny’s soulmate actually is. I bet there’s a spell in his book that could- Wait, what’s up with you guys?” He pointed at his two friends, who were very close together. Seeing it coming from Benny was normal now, but everyone was surprised that Y/n reciprocated the affection more than she usually would. The new couple smiled at each other before looking at their friends.

“We figured it out ourselves.” Y/n smiled. Benny grinned at her expression.

“It just took a little nudge.”

Fake It Till You Make It

Arthur Curry x plus size reader

Never pair two borderline insane superheroes together on a mission.

Warnings: black eyes, some injuries, fluff, fake marriage

WC: 716

Minors DNI

Picking up strange undercover missions was your specialty. You couldn’t even count the number of times you had to wear some crazy disguise and sneak into a drug running ring or a mobster dinner party. You have been in outfits ranging from heels taller than your will to live, covered in makeup and wearing jewels worth more than your life, to oil stained coveralls who had last been owned by Superman himself.

But this, this tops the lot. 

“Let me get this straight, you want me to pretend to be married to Aquaman so we can infiltrate a wildlife sanctuary which has been using great white sharks to smuggle drugs and guns over international borders.” Batman’s face remained stoic, as always.

“Yes.”

“And you actually expect this to work.”

“Yes.”

“Fuck, fine I guess. I’ll do it but I expect appropriate compensation.”

“You can’t drive the batmobile.”

“Five minutes.”

“No.”

“I sit in the passenger seat and you drive but I pick the music.”

“…..Fine.”

“Hell yeah! I guess the only thing left to do is to actually meet this fish man.” His eyes narrowed at you from behind his cowl.

“Don’t call him fish man.” You rolled your eyes and huffed.

“Jesus Christ, old man. Lighten up a bit.” His scowl deepened. But before he could reprimand you, there came a mighty yell from down the hall, causing both of you to turn and look at the source. A man, who could only be described as a giant, was barrelling down the corridor, long curly hair flowing behind him wildly as he ran. He was topless, which you greatly appreciated, considering the fact that he was built like a linebacker with tattoos covering every inch of his copper skin.

“Wifey!” And the next thing you knew, his broad shoulder was firmly planted in your soft stomach and you were moving backwards. Your back met the cold floor of the tower and a huge weight settled on top of you. It took you a second to realise what had happened.

“Did you just rugby tackle me?” His head tilted as if to say ‘duh’. He straddled your plump thighs, keeping you pinned to the ground, his hands were planted firmly by your head. Dark curls framed his face as he leaned forward, your noses almost brushing.

“Hi there wifey.” And he smiled brightly. Maybe this mission wouldn’t be too bad.

——————

You were soaked from head to toe, one eye swollen shut from a particularly good punch, your body completely sore from running and a chill that settled on your bones. Arthur wasn’t much better off than you; a few cuts along his arms and stomach, a dark bruise on his jaw.

But you were both smiling widely, still holding hands, your wedding bands glittering in the low light of the batplane.

Batman looked thoroughly exhausted. “What do you mean you’re married for real?”

Arthur shrugged. “We had to make it believable.” You nodded, backing up his point.

“He’s right, we would’ve been caught otherwise.”

“That’s what the forged documents are for!” You glanced at your counterpart, both of you trembled trying to contain your laughter.

“But those are fake, you could tell that from a mile away.”

“So your solution was to get legally married?!” 

“Yep.” “Pretty much.” You spoke at the same time. The older hero collapsed into one of the many seats on the plane, rubbing at his temples.

“I’ll have Alfred draw up the paperwork to get your marriage annulled.”

“No can do pal!” Bruce glanced at Aquaman, already dreading what was about to come out of his mouth next. “We’re married in Atlantean culture too and divorce is not an option.” 

Bruce sat there for a moment, his mouth opening and closing like a fish as his brain attempted to comprehend the sheer stupidity of the two people in front of him. And yet, he could only blame himself. Then, he said something he thought he would never have to say: “I should’ve listened to Superman.”

“Yeah you really should have.” You agreed, giving Arthur’s large hand a squeeze as you glanced up at him. “But hey! Now we’re permanent partners and we work really well together!”

“You blew up the wildlife sanctuary.”

“We got all of the animals out first!”

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Misumi Ikaruga | [SR] Reminiscence of Blooming | Veludo Town Oshi Spot! ~Video: Misumi~ - Part 1

Misumi: A yummy onigiri shop, a bakery with triangle sandwiches, and a general store with a triangle roof…

Misumi: There are so many triangles in Veludo Town, I dunno which one I wanna introduce to everyone.

Misumi: Uueh, I’m stuck…

Misumi: …Ah! In that store is…

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Misumi: Juza!

Juza: …Oh, Misumi-san. Did ya come to get some cake?

Misumi: Nope, I saw you and decided to come in.

Aoki: Welcome.

Misumi: Hello!

Aoki: …Ah. You’re Summer Troupe’s Ikaruga-kun, right?

Misumi: Yep! Do you know me~?

Aoki: Of course. I’ve gone to see MANKAI Company performances before.

Juza: Aoki-san is the owner and patissier of this store. They helped us out when I participated in that sweets contest with Guy-san and the others before. (1)

Misumi: Ah, I heard about that from Tenma and the others!

Aoki: Ahaha, I’m glad.

Juza: …

Misumi: There are lotsa pretty triangle cakes~.

Juza: Yea. And they’re all so good, I always get lost just lookin’ at ‘em… hm?

Misumi: Wah, yummy-looking donuts!

Juza: Have ya ever had donuts here before…?

Aoki: No, they’re new products we recently started selling. They’re already quite popular.

Misumi: Really? That’s amazing!

Juza: They look good, I think I’ll get some of these donuts too.

Misumi: Yeah, yeah, let’s buy lotsa them and go home~!

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Misumi: We’re home~!

Misumi: Ah, Director-san and Masumi! We got a present for you lucky two~.

Izumi: Welcome home. A present…?

Masumi: …Are those donuts?

Juza: Yea. The cake shop was sellin’ some new donuts, so we got some. You two can have some if ya want.

Izumi: Wah, really? Thanks, they look good!

Masumi: …I’ll have one too then. Let me try one.

Izumi: Mmh, they’re delicious…! The dough is so soft and fluffy.

Juza: Yea. They’re light and easy to eat… they’re good.

Masumi: …They’re good.

Misumi: Yeah, yeah! I’m gonna buy some for Madoka next time~.

Izumi: Did you go to buy these together, Misumi-kun and Juza-kun?

Misumi: Nope! I was walking around Veludo Town won~dering what kinda place would be good to film an introduction for.

Misumi: That’s when I saw Juza in the cake shop so I decided to go in!

Izumi: I see. So did you decide on a place you want to introduce yet?

Misumi: Well… there are lotsa triangles I love, so I haven’t been able to decide~.

Misumi: Sad, sad…

Juza: …I mean, ‘s’not like ya can’t think of anything, it just that you’ve got too many options, so I think you’re still doin’ okay.

Izumi: Yeah, exactly! There’s still some time before it’s your turn, so take your time to think about it more, Misumi-kun.

Misumi: Okay…

Masumi: …

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Misumi: Haah…

*Phone notification*

Misumi: Madoka!

*LIME start*

Madoka: Do you have some free time today?

△△△: I do! I can go anywhere, anytime!

Madoka: Thank you. Okay, then I’ll be waiting by Veludo Station.

*LIME end*

Madoka: I wonder what Madoka wants…? Anyway, I’ve gotta get to the station!

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Misumi: Madoka~! Sorry for the wait!

Madoka: I didn’t have to wait at all, so it’s okay.

Madoka: …You seem better than I thought you’d be. I’m glad.

Misumi: ? Why’s that~?

Madoka: No, it’s nothing. Anyway, I got this…

Misumi: Waah, onigiri!? It looks yummy!

Madoka: There’s an onigiri shop on my way home from school, and every time I pass by it, I’d always think that I’d want to get some for you someday, Nii-san.

Misumi: I’m glad! Thanks, Madoka!

Madoka: You’re welcome.

Madoka: Actually… Masumi told me that you’ve seemed like you’ve been troubled lately.

Misumi: Masumi did…?

Madoka: So I thought this might help you feel a little better, Nii-san. I know it’s kind of a basic solution, but…

Misumi: Madoka… I love you!

Madoka: Wah…! Nii-san, you’re going to squish the onigiri…!

[ Next Part ⇢ ]

• • •

T/N:

(1) Reference to the “Pastry Chef’s Specialty” event.

I’ve seen a few posts recently talking about how important it is for us to share our tips for dealing chronic illness with each other, and I’ve realized that as a freakishly avid community enthusiast, I’ve been falling down on the job. So, I present

Wellplacedbanana’s Ridiculously Long List of Tips for All Things Chronic Illness (Curated Over 8+ Years):

Infusion Centers

Headed to an infusion center to get that sweet sweet (expensive as hell) live-saving medication pumped directly into your veins? Here’s what I do.

Bring headphones or earplugs. Most infusion centers try to maintain a semblance of quiet for the patients, but it can get loud fast—beeping IVs, pulse ox monitors, loud families, codes. Some infusion centers do pods of multiple people and some do individual bays, so this can affect noise levels.

Drink lots of water before if you have to get an IV placed. Don’t worry too much about bringing a water bottle because they’ll give you one when you get there. (Of course, if you have something like POTS and need more intense hydration, bring the damn water bottle.) If you’re not hydrated and they can’t find a vein, they’ll call in the ultrasound tech, and they’ll bring the longest IV needle you’ve ever seen. It hurts. Drink water.

Bring a book or your Switch or something else to entertain you, but don’t expect to actually do it. I tried bringing papers to edit the first time because I was like “Oh it’s an hour and a half of uninterrupted free time. I can get so much done!” I was wrong. The nurses are constantly checking in for vitals, the unit can be loud, and I spent the whole time trying not to vomit everywhere. Different infusions will have different side affects. Knowing what yours might be will help you plan for what you want to bring. Knowing how long your infusion will be can also help. Most infusion centers have to keep you 20-45 minutes after your first dose of a new medication to make sure you don’t have an allergic reaction, so factor that into your time too.

If you’re in a pod with other patients who’re friendly and if you feel up to it, don’t be afraid to talk with them. Lots of them are lonely, bored, interested in other people, etc. I met an elderly Thai lady one time who had been there for three hours and would be there for another four AFTER I left. We talked about her husband and her kids, and she listened to me talk about punctuation as style in prose. It made me feel less alone in the medical system and helped distract me from the nausea.

Conversely, if you don’t want to interact with anyone, snap on those headphones and block everything out. The nurses will get your attention if they need you. Don’t worry about staying lucid. Your job is to get the infusion and do what’s best for you.

You can bring snacks if you want, but most units/centers will have something to munch on or can order you something from the cafeteria if you’re at a hospital. Also the medication and the smells in the unit always make me nauseous, so it’s kind of a waste for me to bother pulling together food before I leave. You can always eat before or plan to get something on the way back. Going through a drive thru to get something with protein is my go to.

If possible, schedule your next appointment while you’re there. I have to go every three months, so I schedule the next one while I’m there, and then I never have to make any fucking phone calls. Phone calls are the worst.

My last and most important tip: ask the nurses when you need something. Blankets, water, snacks, pain meds, the lights turned off. If they can’t do it, they’ll tell you. They’d rather have you ask and have to say no, then you be uncomfortable. Don’t suffer if there might be a solution.

Dealing with Shitty Doctors

There are shitty doctors everywhere, in every specialty and every hospital system. It sucks, and you can do your best to avoid them, but most chronically ill patients will have to put up with one at some point. Here are my suggestions:

If they’re refusing to acknowledge one of your symptoms is a problem (won’t order tests, won’t refer you out, won’t ask any questions), tell them it’s affect your Activities of Daily Living. ADLs are one of the ways doctors measure severity of symptoms and quality of life. ADLs are the absolutely essential things you need to do to be a functioning human: eat, shower, get dressed, brush your teeth. ADLs are a trigger word for most doctors. Physical therapists and occupational therapists were created specifically to help patients achieve their ADLs. If you’re having severe joint paint, say it’s affecting you’re ability to shower and dress in the morning. If you have intense fatigue, say you’re too tired all the time to cook food to eat or even brush your teeth before bed. Tell them your symptoms are affecting your quality of life and your ability to function daily. This won’t always work, but it’s a good starting place. (A side note: if you have have to submit an insurance appeal for something that was denied, citing ADLs as a reason to receive the treatment/medical equipment/doctors visit, will often spur them into action. Sometimes, it’ll just make them ask more questions, but questions are better than flat out denial. This was a very helpful tactic when I was trying to get my manual wheelchair approved. I told them I was unable to complete my ADLs and it was affecting my quality of life, and they eventually came around. It’s also important to remember that ADLs are only the most base tasks that you need to live. Driving, working, socializing—those aren’t included in ADLs, and insurance especially will laugh in your face if you try to say you need medical equipment for something like that.)

Lots of doctors, consciously or unconsciously, will judge how you’re actually feeling by your mood in an appointment. I had a pediatric neurologist who couldn’t be convinced that my pain was at an 8 because I would laugh with my mom in the waiting room. Eight months in, I started getting real quiet, not talking, crying when he talked, all that shit, and he was so fucking flummoxed. He was like “what changed?? Are you depressed??” And I had to remind him that I was thirteen with a severe shoulder inure that hurt every time I breathed. Doctors will judge you based on how you look and how you present. It’s horrible, but it’s true. Present to them in the way that represents what they’d expect to see for your symptoms.

Whatever you do, don’t say anything (or send any snappy messages) that might be considered aggressive until you are absolutely, 100% positive you will never ever have to see them again. I’ve had a few doctors that said ridiculously horrible things to me. It’s tempting to send them a message about how shitty they’ve been or how much they’ve hurt you, but it won’t help. Shitty doctors have fragile egos and they don’t like to be challenged. They won’t take this well, and they’ll mark you as attention seeking, emotional, mentally unstable—you name it. When your other doctors call to ask questions about symptoms, etc, they’ll start talking shit, and everything gets complicated. This might sound dramatic to anyone who hasn’t seen it happen, but honestly, the medical system abuses emotion and mental illness to discard patients that aren’t afraid to advocate for themselves, and this is one of the least immoral ways they do it.

Remember that you don’t owe your doctors anything (except basic human decency). If they ask you to do something and you can’t or don’t want to, don’t. My psychiatrist was really fixated on me getting a light box to cure my depression. I did Not want to do that, so I didn’t. Sometimes, your doctors won’t move on to further treatment or tests until you try it, but most of the time you can say, “that’s not something I’m able to do right now. Let’s explore further options,” and they’ll move on.

Remember that learning to advocate for yourself takes years of practice. Just do your best, and try not to blame yourself for the ways you get mistreated. Therapy is the best investment I’ve ever made for this. It’s helped me learn how to advocate and how to process medical trauma.

Medication

For gods sake, take the as needed medication when you have a migraine or if you’re nauseous. Don’t punish yourself.

This might seem like a no brainer, but if you’re traveling and you’re going to take your medication bottles with you, put them in a ziplock bag. They will definitely open in your suitcase, and you’ll have to pick Levothyroxine out of your socks.

If a medication gives you icky side effects, tell your doctor and ask if there’s something that doesn’t do that. For me personally, it’s hard to find medication that works at all, so I often get stuck with things that make me feel like shit. But it doesn’t hurt to ask. Sometimes new medications come out or they dig up old ones.

Some medications come in dissolvable tablets or suppositories. They’re not fun, but if you have trouble swallowing pills, this is a good way to go. Again, communicate with your doctor about these things. I know that there are Scopolamine patches for nausea too. I’ve never used them before, but it might be worth looking into if need easy nausea relief.

All Things Wheelchair

Man, wheelchairs suck, but they’re also amazing. If you find yourself using one, you’ll encounter a steep learning curve.

If you’re not super buff when you first start, it’ll seem impossible to go up even a slight incline. Your arms will get stronger the more you move around, but it might take time. I eventually bit the bullet and started doing personal training. I’m lucky that I can afford it, and I know it’s not an option for everyone, but if you can, find a trainer who won’t saying anything shitty and who’s willing to accommodate. I worked with a queer-owned gym to find someone I was comfortable with. We do upper body strength training, and it gives me a chance to move my body more often. I still can’t go up big hills, but I feel infinitely more mobile. Give yourself time to adjust to the new strain on your body, even if you don’t do training for it. You’ll be sore in the beginning. Ice and heat will be your friends after long days. If your wrists start hurting a lot, you’re not wheeling correctly, and you should ask your doctor for a referral to PT or OT. Oh and your hands will be fucked for the first few weeks. I bought special wheelchair gloves to try to combat this, but it just made it harder for me to maneuver. Now I only use the gloves if it’s cold, if I’m going down hills, or in the rain/snow. (But seriously, if you’re going down steep hills, use traction gloves.)

Learn to pop a wheelie as soon as possible. It’s such a helpful skill. If you get good enough, you’ll be able to get up over single steps and traverse shitty pavement.

If your wheelchair has a cushion, then it has a cushion cover. Wash it.

Time for the grossest part: cutting hair out of your caster wheels. I hate this. I hate it so much. It’s fucking disgusting, but you have to do it. It’ll fuck up your wheels and make it harder to maneuver. Also it’s just gross to have all that nasty hair hanging out by your feet. Get yourself a long pair of thin scissors and cut all that hair out every week or every two weeks. If you don’t have long hair or live with people who have long hair, then you might be able to wait longer. You should also sanitize your hand rims while you’re at it. Hand sanitizer or Clorox wipes are great for this.

You’ll notice that it’s fucking impossible to carry shopping baskets or suitcases if you use a manual chair. Some people try to balance them on their laps or wedge them onto their footplates, but it’s pretty precarious. I got these weird peg things that attach to the frame. You can place a basket or your bag on it and still keep your hands free. Here’s the link for the ones I got, but it depends on your make and model, so do some research and call some different companies before buying anything. Also, make sure to measure the distance between the two sides of your frame to make sure a basket will be able to balance on the two pegs. Your frame might be too wide for this. Mine is, but I bought a special basket to take to the store that’s wide enough to reach across.

Lots of people will offer to push you. Some won’t even offer; they’ll just grab on and take you in whatever direction. It’s insanely invasive and dehumanizing. Don’t be afraid to put on your breaks if someone does this. I can stand and take small steps, so sometime I just get up and stare at them. You can also buy covers for your handles that have spikes so people can’t grab them. I know some wheelchair users who like it when people offer to push them. That’s good too! Take the help if you want it. Just remember to prioritize your safety and comfort. I had a big debate with another disabled person about whether it was infantilizing for someone to offer to hold open the door for us. I’m firmly on the side that they can offer, and I can say no, and they can listen, and then we can both appreciate the moment of shared humanity between us. They did not agree. Disabled people fight and disagree all the time because we’re not all carbon copies of each other. That’s okay! Just be respectful.

Getting a customized manual wheelchair was one of the single most stressful things I had to deal with. Insurance doesn’t like to pay for them because it’s about 3-12k, depending on the specifications and add-ons. But it’s also been the most liberating thing I’ve done since getting my mobility stripped from me. I’m not sure how it works for everyone, but I got a referral from my doctor to a custom wheelchair company. From there, they took measurements, discussed needs, and showed me different models. It’s going to be really really difficult to know what you want the first time. There’s a lot of different brands and customizations, so do your research and talk in depth with whoever’s making your chair. Ultra lite rigid frames are my favorite because they’re usually only 15-40 pounds, and the wheels can come off to make it even lighter. However, rigid frames don’t fold together in the middle like classic manual wheelchairs that you might find at a hospital or get at a rental company. They can be difficult to fit in the backseat of a car or in some trunks, so make sure to measure any cars you ride in regularly. Some people prefer to have tilted wheels so they can turn easier. Some people don’t want anything to do with that. Depending on your mobility and the people in your life, you might choose not to add push handles to your chair. I added some to mine because I often get dizzy, and it’s helpful to have handles in case I need someone to push me out of the crosswalk or into the shade. People who are highly independent and extremely strong might not want push handles because they won’t need help up steep hills. I like my handles a lot; however, my chair back is shorter than a standard wheelchair because it helps increase range of motion when I’m wheeling, so my push handles are lower than normal, and anyone who wants to push me has to hunch a bit to reach. Again, do your research and talk to your rep before making final decisions. Some companies will let you test out the chairs they have on hand to see what you like. It’s important to work with a wheelchair company you really like because you’re literally putting you life in their hands. I’ve had better luck with smaller, locally-owned companies, but you can’t always get referrals there, and not every town has them. Here’s my tip to you: Numotion sucks ass. Avoid them. My branch of Numotion seems to be an outlier; I’ve had really good experiences with them. But most of the time, its impossible to get ahold of anyone, their hours are few and random, and their customer service reps are rude. But! After you’ve completed your order form—gotten measurements and found customizations—they’ll submit it to insurance. This is the tricky part. I went through four appeals, before I got mine approved. Luckily, I had insurance through my mom’s job, and after the last appeal, her company told the insurance that they had to pay for it. This won’t be the case with everyone. Be diligent with your appeals. Have your doctors write specific, clear letters about why you need it, including information about all the customizations and add-ons. It’s likely that they’ll only pay for the base chair, and you’ll have to pay out of pocket for any extra things. Another note: most insurance companies will only pay for a new chair once every five years (if they approve the first one at all), so be sure that the chair you pick out will work for you for at least the next five and a half years.

I had an advisor in college tell me something devastating once: there is no AAA for wheelchairs. I’d broken a caster wheel and gotten stuck on a university sidewalk in 102 degree heat, and she was telling me about her own experiences getting stranded after one of her tires popped. She’s right; if you’re wheelchair breaks, you’re stuck wherever you are without any backup. Carry your phone with you. Tell your friends or family where you’re going before you leave. Familiarize yourself with the wheelchair repairs shops in your area. Sometimes places like bike shops will be able to help you fix smaller things. I always carry an Allen wrench with me in case I need to take a part off. And don’t worry; you’ll find that if something does go wrong, people are far more willing to help than you’d expect. One of the sculpture professors in the art department found me that day and went back to his workshop to get all his tools. He brought me water and sat in the sun while he tried to fix my wheel, and when he couldn’t, he offered to drive me wherever I needed to go. This man was a tenured professor with a prestigious MFA, and he was running late for a party where he was supposed to be handing out awards. You’ll find lots of good people when things inevitably go to shit.

Going along with the last point, your wheelchair will break, and you will have to send it into the shop to get repairs. If you can, invest in a cheap manual chair that you can use in emergencies. If you live with other people, you can buy a transport chair for cheaper, but you’ll need someone around to push you because it won’t have hand rims.

If you’re new to wheelchair use, give yourself space to feel all the emotions. When I first started, I had been using an office chair(!) to get around. My mom would push me from my bed to the bathroom and then back to bed while we waited to get a rental. I was so relieved when I got my own chair that I pushed everything else down. It took months to allow myself to be sad about all the things I couldn’t do anymore and be angry about all the inaccessible infrastructure that America has. Don’t push it down. Talk to a therapist or find people in the community to discuss it with. (If I choose to talk about my frustrations with friends, I always start with “I need to vent right now, and I’m grateful you’re willing to listen to me, but I’m not looking for any solutions to this at the moment,” or “can you give me some suggestions to work around these things that are frustrating me?” This gives my friends insight into what I need, instead of making them guess. It keeps us both from getting frustrated, and I highly suggest it, especially if you or your friends have trouble navigating social situations/expectations.)

Hand Controls

Hand controls are great option for your car if you’re unable to use your feet to drive. I got mine about a year back, but it was tricky and really confusing at first.

First thing you need to know: you can’t get hand controls without a prescription from a specialist. Usually a certain type of occupational therapist. You can look up driving rehab OTs in your area, but there aren’t many of them, and lots of the time you’ll have to drive several hours to see one. There’s usually a long wait list as well. (And of course, a lot of them don’t take insurance.)

If you’re able to find someone who’s certified, they’ll do an intake appointment and assess your physical abilities and needs. Sometimes, they’ll do the assessment and decide you aren’t fit to use hand controls. This can be for a multitude of reasons, including impaired mental cognition and slow reaction time, issues with hand or arm mobility, or there might be a better way to adapt a car for you. Again, it varies greatly on the person, and I’m not an OT, so I don’t know all the ins and outs. If you pass the assessment, and they view you got to drive with hand controls, you’ll be required to do a certain amount of training where you practice using different equipment. Some OTs will know what you need to use right away, and others will have you try different things out to see what fits best. There’s a lot of types of hand controls and a lot of adaptations that can be done to a car, so it really depends on the person. My training was only about 15 hours (plus independent driving practice), but it’ll depend on whether this is your first time ever driving, if you’ve driven without hand controls before, and if you have any other medical issues that might make it hard for you to adapt. Once you’ve completed the training and received your certificate from the OT, they’ll write a prescription to send to a shop that does specialty car adaptation. Kind of like wheelchairs, the shop you go to is very important. Ask your OT if they have any favorites in the area. Insurance never covers this, and some shops will way overcharge you if you’re not careful. My hand controls were about 3k out of pocket, but it was definitely worth it. It would’ve been a lot more to add other adaptations like a lift or a ramp, but sometimes you can buy used accessible vans for cheaper than adding it to your own car. Something to know: you’re usually able to turn your hand controls on and off. So if your friend needs to borrow your car, or you need to let a mechanic test drive it, you can disable to hand controls and allow someone else to use the foot pedals as normal.

Overall, it’s a very long, very expensive process, so plan ahead and be prepared to wait and pay.

Navigating Raising a Kid with Chronic Illnesses

I don’t have any kids, but my mom was my sole caretaker growing up, and I can offer you some of her thoughts. You have to remember that no matter what age your kid is, chronic illness is an impossible thing for them to deal with, and yet they have to deal with it anyways. Sometimes, there’s no good way to comfort a child who’s in 10/10 pain, or who’s about to undergo a life-altering procedure. All you can do is your best. Communicate. Offer support. Give affection. Make your love unconditional. I was a very angry teenager. I was angry with my mom that she couldn’t fix it, and I was angry with my doctors for the way they treated me. There were days where I would yell and sob and refuse to take my meds, and there where days where I would stare at the wall and not respond to anything. It drove my mom up the wall. She’s used to fixing things, and this was one of those things she couldn’t even help. I know she stills holds a lot of guilt for this, but she shouldn’t. She did her best. You’re doing your best too. You can’t fix everything. That being said, here are her suggestions:

Therapy, therapy, therapy. They might hate it, but some day, they’ll thank you. Remember that not every therapist is right for every patient. If your kid wants to switch to a different therapist, let them. It’s better than them sitting and not speaking the whole session.

Lots of kids with developing rare undiagnosed diseases will go through this vicious cycle where they get a new symptom, get sent to a specialist, get dismissed, and then develop a new symptom and start the process all over again. It’s not easy. My mom was a fan of throwing Pity Parties. Every once in a while, when the grind of it all started making us feel hopeless, she’d take me to the store and say, “pick out snacks and drinks. We’re going to throw a pity party, gorge on sugar, watch Lord of the Rings, feel bad for ourselves, and tomorrow, we’ll dust ourselves off and try again.” It helped. It was good to know that sometimes you can let life feel unfair, and it was even better to know that the next day it would be easier to try again.

A lot of being chronically ill as a kid is getting decisions stripped from you and having unexpected negative experiences. My mom would try to do spontaneous things every once in a while to remind me that not all surprises are bad. Instead of driving straight home after school one Friday, she took me to Starbucks without saying anything. After an MRI, she stopped at an art fair and let me pick out a necklace. We would go to the library after I spent the day in the hospital. Sometimes, she’d call my aunts while I was at school to come over and play card games on the weekends. And she was really big on giving me choices in everything. She never made me agree to new (non-lifesaving) treatment. Ever. If she really wanted me to do it, we’d talk it over and come to an agreement that made us both happy. Sick kids are forced into adulthood early; they know how to make calculated, logical decisions when needed. Let them be a part of their own healthcare. (They should also be given the chance to make rash, stupid decisions that have no bearing on their health.)

Keep track of everything. Doctors, meds, ER visits, PT exercises, diets they’ve tried for GI issues, everything about the surgeries they’ve undergone. Some day, you’ll need it. Or your kid will grow up into a chronically ill adult, and they’ll need it.

Talk to their school counselor about getting a 504 or IEP. Even if they’re not struggling. I was a super academically minded kid; I didn’t struggle to understand new concepts or complete homework correctly. But eventually it became hard for me to attend class and finish assignments. Having an IEP saved me. 504s are a lot easier to get (a lot less paperwork, less testing, less pushback from admin), but they’re not legally binding. If you want something concrete and all-encompassing, go for the IEP. IEPs are also really helpful when trying to get accommodations in college. You can also start with a 504 and switch to an IEP later. While we’re on the subject of school: remember that education is important, but school is not the end all be all of your child’s life. What should matter the most to you is that they end up safe and happy. I didn’t graduate high school; I took a proficiency test my junior year and dropped out. It was the best choice I could’ve made at the time, but it was still tough for my mom. I ended up going to college, and now I have a pretty solid job, but every kid will be different. Their mental and physical health is the most important. School is a huge huge huge stressor. Don’t make it harder for them than it already is.

Dating

God dating sucks enough on its own, but adding in chronic illness and disability just makes it a shit show. I don’t have a lot to offer on this other than you shouldn’t settle for anyone who doesn’t respect you, treat you with love and compassion, and accept every part of you for what it is. People will say rude shit. They’ll be nasty, fetishizing, infantilizing, dismissive. Some won’t be able to put up with all the things that come along with being ill. I sound like a broken record, but find a good therapist who can help you voice your needs and expectations clearly. Remember that you never have to go on a date if you don’t want to. Participate as you see fit. Throw it all out if you want.

I don’t have enough time to go into my tips for intimacy/sex and disability, but I’ll give you the highlights.

Communicate. Make it very clear what you’re able to do, what you’re interested in doing, and what you don’t want.

There are lots of ways to have sex. If you’re both having fun, being safe, and engaging consensually, then you’re doing it right. Don’t let abled bodied people tell you the way it should be done. There are lots of accessibility friendly toys to invest in, too.

As weird as it might sound, don’t be afraid to take breaks. Keep water near by. If you have POTS, keep salt or electrolyte tablets on hand. If you have to stop to vomit or go to the bathroom, don’t let it shame you. Go at your own pace and take care of your body.

Misc

Having seizures on a college campus: Most universities have a policy that if you lose consciousness while on campus, they have to call an ambulance. You are not required to ride in the ambulance. You can decline, and the paramedics will make you sign a form before leaving. If you’re still actively having seizures, then they’ll take you anyways, but you probably won’t be in any shape to try to decline. If you’re having seizures regularly, tell your professors. It’ll freak them the fuck out, so warn them ahead of time. It makes the whole thing a lot less awkward when you collapse in the aisle during a lecture. Related to that: communicate with your professors about all your accommodations and emergency health needs. They really honestly appreciate it when you talk to them about this stuff. Even if they have a big class and don’t remember you, it’s good to send them an email and introduce yourself. Hopefully, you’ve also talked to your college’s Disability Resource Center. If not, go do that. Now. (There’s a whole lot of shit that I have to say about campus accessibility and disability resource centers, but I’m not gonna go into it right now.) Also, wear your medical alert bracelet. I know they suck, but it sucks more for someone to be digging through your pants pocket while you’re seizing to try to find your wallet. And keep your emergency contact info pinned up somewhere in your dorm. I used to put mine on the fridge and point it out to my roommates at the beginning of term. It can take a while for RAs to pull yours up, so it’s best to make sure it’s easily accessible.

Remember that you do not function like a normal person. There is no wrong way to solve one of your problems. If you need to put a stool in your bathroom to sit at while you brush your teeth, do it. I got an extra tall stool to sit at while I cook at the stove because my wheelchair is too short. (Cooking in a wheelchair is another thing I could talk about forever.) If you need to wear a sleep mask on the bus because the light makes your migraine worse, do it. People can look at you funny all they want. Like I said, I rolled around my house in an office chair while I waited for a rental wheelchair. What I’m trying to say is find things that work and implement them, even if they’re non traditional.

Here’s what I pack in my bag for an ER visit: headphones, phone charger, book, zofran, Naproxen, water bottle, wallet with cash, socks, and sleep mask to block out the waiting room lights. If I’m expecting to be admitted, then I’ll pack more, but I try to keep it light if it’s just triage and a visit with the ER doctor. Sometimes I’ll stuff a granola bar or some almonds in there too.

My biggest tip for surviving hospital stays is to get out of your room (if possible). Go on walks around the unit. Some hospitals have little courtyards patients can sit in. If you’re in peds, go visit the rec room, even if it’s awkward. Their activities are usually meant for the younger kids, but it can be fun to connect with other people your age, and you’ll thank yourself later when you’re stuck in bed at 3am. Also, tell your friends to come visit you. Not everyone will be able to, but most people are happy to come hang out for an hour or two. It’ll help; I promise.

Clean your room every few weeks. Dear god, clean your room. I have trouble with executive functioning and finding energy to do housekeeping type stuff, but I get more depressed when my room is gross. So clean your room. Especially if you have hypersomnia/sleep excessively.

Don’t force yourself to use a pill organizer. I know everyone says it makes it easier, but I get overwhelmed when I have to refill it, and then I just don’t end up taking my meds. If it doesn’t work for you, don’t do it. If it does, then do it!

Don’t buy the self help books your therapist recommends unless you’re actually interested in reading them. It’ll just sit on your shelf and make you feel guilty for not being good enough.

Mental illness is tightly bound to physical illness. Try to be an active listener in your body. Sometimes, when I’ve been feeling really nauseous, my PSTD symptoms will get triggered over nothing, and it’ll frustrate the fuck out of me because it seems like it’s happening over nothing. I try to track when my emotional state is worse to see if it’s correlated to my physical symptoms. This helps curb the frustration and guilt. Sometimes it makes me dissociate more. It’s a balancing act. Just do your best.

Hobbies are so so so important. Make sure to give yourself time to work on them! And there are a million ways to adapt the activities you love if you’re having trouble, so don’t afraid to do some research. I know they have crochet hook grips for people with arthritis or loose grips, and there are super intense magnifying glasses for people who like to cross stitch and are having trouble seeing the tiny ass holes. I have a color blind friend who sends us pictures of paint to see if it’s the shade he wants. Very occasionally, you’ll come to the conclusion that there’s a hobby you can’t adapt. Let yourself be sad. I can’t hike anymore and it sucks. I can’t go tide-pooling either, and its not like if I just work really hard I’ll be able to do it some day. Life is shit, and sometimes you have to let things go. Be angry, be sad, tell people to fuck off if they try to turn you into inspiration porn, but also remember that there are lots of other cool things out there to try.

Going along with the hobby thing: take the time to learn ASL if you’re having trouble with your hearing or if you often go nonverbal. One of my friends had to get hearing aids last year, and we offered to learn with them, but they were hesitant because it feels like a non necessity to them. Something selfish that would take up all our time. If you think it’ll help, you should grant yourself the time to learn. Capitalism makes us think that we shouldn’t engage in activities unless we gain money or power from them, but that mindset will kill you. Your life will be infinitely easier if you learn ASL online with your partner or friends or siblings.

Look up Spoon Theory. It’s not a helpful metaphor for everyone, but most people in the community talk about it, so it’s good to be familiar with it.

Don’t be afraid to go out and find community! Find support groups, look up wheelchair sports if you’re into getting sweaty, brave the awkwardness of starting conversations with other patients in the clinic. I’m wholly and completely of the idea that humans are innately good. There are lots of interesting chronically ill/disabled people who’re looking for connection. Insurance companies and other medical entities rely on us feeling isolated, alone, and uniformed to continue making money and hold power. It’s important that we share with and support each other.

I know a lot of this is basic stuff, but it’s helpful to have reminders, and if you’re new to the whole song and dance, then it’s nice to get a sneak peak. There are a million things I didn’t get to, but this was what was on the top of my brain.

Also, I’m not the collective voice of every chronically ill person in the world. My experiences are not yours and they’re not everyone else’s. What works for me, might not work for you. Be kind.

Timmy Character Profile

(WIP)

Basic Information

Name: Timothy TeXon

Race: Human

Age: 20

Gender: Male (He/They)

Unique Features

Light freckles

Height: 5'6 (168 cm)

Education & Background

Education: Red Fountain Polytechnic

Year: Transfer Student

Specialty: Freelance Operations

Subspecialties: Aerospace Engineering & Dimensional Travel | Vehicle Engineering & Advanced Transportation Systems

Favorite Class: Spacecraft Design & Orbital Mechanics

Birthplace: Titania, Zenith

Relationships

Family

Parents: Trace & Tegan TeXon

Sibling: Teo TeXon

Friends

Riven/Nabu (Specialist Best Friends)

Bloom/Flora/Musa (Winx Best Friends)

Love Interests

Tecna

Personality Traits

Persistent: Despite being told he's not suited for combat and facing self-doubt, he persists, displaying unwavering determination to pursue his chosen path.

Quiet Confidence: Timmy possess an inner resolve and confidence in their skills, even if he doesn't openly display it.

Adaptability: Adept at adjusting to challenging situations, learning from setbacks, and adapting his approach to overcome obstacles.

Analytical Thinking: An introspective nature lends itself to analytical thinking, allowing them to assess situations methodically and find creative solutions.

Empathy: Despite their struggles, they're empathetic towards others, understanding that everyone faces challenges and offering support to those in need.

Focused and Detail-Oriented: He exhibits a keen focus on his pursuits, paying attention to detail in his work, whether it's engineering or combat-related training.

Resilient: He is able to bounce back from setbacks.

Inner Strength: They possess inner strength, quietly facing their insecurities and doubts, using them as fuel to drive their determination rather than letting them hold them back.

Skills & Abilities

Excellent Marksman

Excels in Navigation and Piloting

Technical Aptitude

Mechanical Aptitude

Tactical Aptitude

Hobbies & Interests

Building Model Aircrafts and Vehicles

Tinkering with Gadgets and Devices

Playing Simulation Games

Playing Strategy and Precision-Based Video Games

Drafting Blueprints

Practicing archery/sharpshooting

Quirks & Habits

Has a list for everything

Always takes notes

Collects figurines

Whenever he adds a new book to his collection he has to read them at least 3 times

__________________________

Winx Rewrite Master Post

Day 1: The First Symptom

A/N: Because I got a chance, I wanted to write/share this one for the prompt: Not Childhood Friends AU. @shin05 asked for a nurse/doctor!Ran & detective!Shinichi, and I could have combined this request in the Light in My Nightmares because Shinichi was a detective and Ran a nurse, but I kind of got a “fun” idea for this request, so I wanted to do it separately. To be honest, this is more different than I got into my mind, but I like where this is going, and I’m pretty excited to get to write more about this, so this will be my next project after ShinRan week!

Edited by @mirrorfalls ❤

I hope you guys like this ❤

Chapter 1: The First Symptom

The first time she met that arrogant, stupid, wannabe detective…

Well, in retrospect, maybe it shouldn’t have been surprising at all, since her whole day had been pretty different from usual. Instead of sitting in her office peacefully, taking clients into her room turn by turn, hearing what was bothering them, and offering solutions, she had ended up onboard an ambulance, because there had been an emergency call: In Tokyo, there had been an event that got cut short by an explosion. Ran didn’t know anything further, just heard that there were serious injuries, and since there weren’t any other doctors free to go, she had volunteered. Not her specialty, but since there were people who needed her help, she would do it!

It couldn’t be too different from office work.

Well, maybe it wasn’t that different, but it was enough to open her eyes to the uglier side of a doctor’s job. The place looked much worse than she had thought it would. Most of the people looked so restless, wanting to leave, but not allowed to for some reason. Some of them waited nicely, but quite a few were angry and tried to fight against official authority. Police were everywhere, some just guarding, probably making sure that no one left before everything was fine, and some just calming people down. Some people just sat on the ground and waited. And what made Ran truly sad, was the sound of the children: Some of them looked so scared in their parents' or other adults’ arms. She heard some of them crying, which made something twist in her heart. Poor souls, they were the last who should’ve seen or experienced something so terrible.

But the good thing was that most of them looked to be in good shape and unharmed, even though it didn’t change the fact that they have experienced something terrible, and it would leave marks. Marks that some of them, maybe, would never leave behind.

“First aid is here, who needs help?” one of the paramedics shouted as they walked around to check people. Ran saw a woman, who cradled her hand like it was hurting, and a little boy who looked like he had hurt his leg. And then there was a man who seemed to need help the most. He was sitting on the ground, a painful grimace crossing his face for a moment while he held his left side. There were two other people, crouched beside him, and when he turned his eyes to them, Ran saw how he tried to hide his pain behind a confident smile. Like an assurance that he was fine. One of his watchers stood up and looked around until he saw her. His face lit up a little.

“Please, over here!” he shouted and raised his hand at her, waving frantically. “He’s bleeding…”

Bleeding? That made Ran speed up.

“Ah, it’s nothing, really…” the injured one said, and looked like he was trying to stand up, but apparently his side said otherwise since his pained grimace instantly returned. Ran went closer, dropped her first-aid kit on the ground, and pressed him back down.

“It seems it’s something”, Ran said gently, and turned to look at the pair who had been with him. Man and woman, dressed up pretty formally. Probably with the police. They looked a little bit worried. Ran smiled. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of him.”

The woman started to smile, and then she stood up, looking at the man who was on the ground. “Okay, rest easy, Kudo-kun. We’ll wrap this case, don’t worry.”

Ran heard a gasp behind her, but she ignored it.

“But…”

“Let’s go, Takagi-kun!” the woman continued before turning and leaving. The man, evidently Takagi, turned to look at the injured one with a smile. “You’re in good hands”, he said and nodded before turning to Ran. He bowed. “Please, take good care of him.”

“I will”, Ran promised. Takagi stood up and glanced at the wounded man one last time before running after the woman.

“Um, Mouri-sensei…”

The groan that the man - Kudo - let out interrupted the question that one of the paramedics started behind her. Ran’s attention was back on the man, who - to Ran’s surprise - didn’t seem to be seriously pained or worried. Instead, he looked like he was bored and annoyed. Ran frowned.

“Okay”, the man let out and moved a little to take a better position. His blue eyes met Ran’s, and he smiled. “Thanks for your effort, but really, I’m fine. So… Go take care of others, and…” He tried to get up.

“Just stay there, okay”, Ran interrupted him, pressing him back to sit down. She realized that she barely had to use any force to get him back down, which probably meant that he was weaker than he looked. The man let out another groan, but ignoring that, Ran turned to look at the two paramedics with her. She still found it a little strange that those two hadn’t taken the initiative to go check the others. “And you two, go take care of the other ones we saw! Lots of people here need help.”

The man nodded with determination and ran towards the child who was holding their leg, but the woman still hesitated. Ran looked at her, waiting. The woman looked bothered when she turned back to Ran.

“Listen, Mouri-sensei…” she began and smiled nervously. “His wound seems pretty bad, so I can take care of him, and…”

“It’s okay, I can handle this”, Ran answered gently and turned back to Kudo, who was still grimacing and looking at his side, but still holding his hand over the wound so that Ran couldn’t see it. “Go take care of others. I’ll call you if I need help.”

She waited to hear footsteps, but she didn’t, and it seemed that the man before her noticed it too since he also raised his head and looked at them. Ran turned again to look at the woman, and noticed that she looked a little upset. Her mouth was curving like she would have liked to seriously argue, but when Ran opened her mouth to ask - demand -  what was going on, the paramedic nodded and went over to the wounded woman. Ran watched her for a moment longer, still wondering what that was about.

“Well, you should go help her too”, the man’s voice said, making Ran turn her attention back to him. He was also looking after the paramedic. “She’s in worse shape than me, and…”

Ran frowned again. “Why are you fighting this?” she asked. The man stopped and met her eyes. “You are in pain, you are hurt… and you don’t want to be treated?”

It was his turn to frown. “It’s not that”, he answered. “But I’ve been in real scrapes, and this is nothing”, he explained and looked at his side. “I can treat this myself.”

“But I’m here, so let the professional take care of this”, she said gently and turned to look at his side. His hand was still covering it. “So please, let me see that.”

“It’s just a scratch”, he said, without doing anything to move his hand.

Ran met his eyes again. They were blue and pretty determined, like he was absolutely sure that he didn’t want anyone to see that wound. She still couldn’t understand why.

“For a scratch, it seems to bother you very much”, she said. He just kept staring at her, without doing the smallest twitch to move his hand away. She just stared back. Okay, she admitted, he was a stubborn one, but she had met more stubborn clients before, and she had her ways. When she got into Medical school, she had sworn to help everyone, no matter what. And he wouldn’t be an exception. She wouldn’t turn her back on him, leave him untreated. She would make him show that wound even if all the Heavens declared it would be the last thing she would do.

“Listen, mister”, she started and smiled gently. “There are a few options that we have: First, you move that hand of yours, take your shirt off, and let me see and treat your wound, and after that, you are free to do whatever you want.”

“And the second one is where you try to move my hand and tear my shirt off, am I right?” he continued with a small, cynical smile.

“There won’t have to be much trying”, she answered and glanced at his covering hand again. “I can see you’re already in pain, so to be honest, you don’t have much chance against me.” Then she looked into his eyes again and smiled sweetly. “But of course, if it makes you feel better and you want to lie to yourself, you can pretend that you have a chance of leaving without me treating that wound. It’s fine by me.”

Blue eyes stared at her, and the smile stayed, even though Ran had been sure that any sane man would have given up the fight. He didn’t. Ran stared back, keeping her smile equally firm to show him that she was serious about this, and she would not let him go before he was treated. Part of her was still worried that there would be many others who had been injured and she was just wasting her time with this one, but he was important too, and she still had two paramedics with her. They were more than qualified to treat anyone. And if there were someone in worse condition, she wanted to believe that they would have been shown to her already.

“Well, it seems there’s just no getting rid of you”, Kudo said eventually. Ran frowned but didn’t answer, just observed how he took off his hand. Against his white shirt, the red stain was like a wildfire, spreading wider every second. Ran gasped and stared at it worriedly. It looked so bad…

“Are you sure you’re up to this?”

Ran raised her eyes to Kudo. He looked like he was doubting her.

“Take that shirt off or I will”, Ran said and turned towards her kit. She needed something to clean it…

“Well, you looked pretty terrified”, Kudo continued calmly.

“Don’t you bother yourself with that”, Ran answered, and searched for a proper cloth. “And you’re pretty bad at reading people. I wasn’t terrified”, she denied.

“Hmm-mm”, he hummed like he didn’t believe her at all. It almost made Ran want to take a deep breath, but she held herself. He was just one of those tough-customers who wanted to try their limits and pretended to be Hard and Manly but would turn around as soon as she began to treat them. Some people were just like that.

When she’d found disinfectant and cloth and set the bandages at the kit’s top, she turned back to Kudo. He had taken his dress shirt half off, just enough that it showed the left side of his chest and side. Ran grimaced. That wound looked even worse now. She heard him let out some kind of snort, but she ignored it. Instead, she took water and wet the cloth to clean most of the blood away so she could get a better view of the wound. 

The wound itself didn’t look too deep, but big enough to have let out so much blood. Well, not too much, since Kudo at least seemed to be in talking shape. She took another cloth and started to clean the wound. It would heal itself, with luck, needing no specialized treatment.

“Why are you a paramedic?”

“What?” Ran asked, surprised. She glanced at the Kudo, who was pinning her with a serious expression.

“Why did you become a paramedic?” he repeated, raising another eyebrow.

Ran frowned. “Why wouldn’t I?” she asked and got her eyes back to his wound, which looked a little better now that she had cleaned it. It was still bleeding, but after she got a bandage on it, that wouldn’t last long. “Because I wanted to help people”, she answered while she took another, slightly bigger cloth to cover his wound with. “Because so many people need help and medical attention, and I have always known that if I can help them, everyone would end up happier”, she explained, and moved a little bit so it would be easier for her to wrap that bandage around him.

“But there are many other ways to help people”, Kudo said nonchalantly.

“Yeah, and I chose this one”, Ran answered.

“But why?”

Ran stopped and looked at the man, who just looked down at the bandage that she had wrapped a few turns already. “What do you mean why?” she asked, and when he met her gaze, she continued. “Because I thought this would be the most effective way to help people, and I like my job.”

He frowned. “I don’t think you’re suited to this job.”

Ran felt like someone had thrown a bucket of ice water over her. She just stared at those blue eyes, and her brain suddenly couldn’t find any answer.

What did he mean that she wasn’t suitable? This was her dream, to be a doctor, to help people! Heal them, make sure that they would escape their pain and feel better! See them smile again! She loved to work with other people! Teachers had praised her when she went through medical school, and she knew, thanks to all kinds of feedback, that she had been liked in her workplace. She had helped countless people leave their beds smiling, she had been patient with the hard ones, and everyone told her from time to time that she was always smiling and empathetic, which clients appreciated. She had never let it show if she was suffering a bad day, or took her frustration out on others, not even her co-workers.

She knew she was loved, and she believed that she was good at what she did.

She was suited to this job.

“Oh”, she answered as calmly as she could and turned to look at the bandage, continuing the wraps. “And why do you think so?”

“When you first came, I saw how you were looking around”, he answered. “You looked like you could burst into tears any second.”

Ran’s grip on the bandage tightened a little bit. “And what’s wrong with that?” she asked. “It’s only natural to feel bad for others.”

“And you looked horrified at my blood…”

“Because I was surprised how much there was”, she defended herself, and it was the truth. In that white shirt, it had looked like a nightmare, and she wasn’t prepared for it. “I thought your wound was going to be so much worse…”

“Mmmm”, he hummed like he still didn’t believe. “But I don’t think it’s exactly professional to show it to a client.”

“We are all humans”, Ran said. “And in any case, I’m still able to treat you. It’s only natural to react…”

“And it’s natural for these things to happen”, Kudo interrupted her. “A crybaby like you shouldn’t be a medic.”

Ran froze. She turned to look at Kudo, who was again peering at that bandage around him, like he was judging her work.

“Excuse me?” Ran asked slowly, with ice in her voice.

Kudo raised his eyes back to her. “These things happen”, he explained like someone observing the weather. “People get hurt, they get wounds, maybe something worse. And if you can’t hold yourself together, like you couldn’t right here”, he added, “maybe you should stay at home to clean and cook.”

Ran saw red.

How dare he?! She had so much to say, but no, she had to hold herself. She was professional and she shouldn’t let him get under her skin. And really, after this, she would probably never again meet this man. So she continued wrapping the bandage. The faster she got done with him, the better. “First, there is nothing wrong with being a housewife”, she answered as calmly as she could. “Second, this is my dream, to help people.”

“Mmm?” Kudo hummed.

“And third”, Ran continued. “I’m not a crybaby.”

Kudo hummed again. “Well, to me it looks like you are”, he said.

“I’m not”, Ran said, and wrapped another round.

“Yes, you are”, he disagreed.

Another round…

“I’m not.”

“You are.”

“I’m not.”

“You are.”

Last round. Ran bit the bullet and pulled the bandage as hard as she could to get it tight - maybe a little too hard. Kudo let out some noise. Ran looked at him from the corner of her eye, and even though he tried to look tough and nonchalant, she saw that it had hurt him. Good.

“And if my services don’t please you, maybe you should stop being such a baby and learn to take care of yourself”, Ran said calmly while tying the bandage. Her job here was done, he was treated and she could move on. She looked at the man, who still seemed to be in fresh pain, but she couldn’t care less. He deserved it! “And most importantly”, she continued, leaning a little bit closer to him. He turned to her with a wary look. It pleased Ran, and she smiled sweetly. “I’m not a paramedic. I am a doctor.”

When he didn’t answer, Ran leaned away from him. “Remember to observe that injury of yours”, she said coldly while packing all the remaining materials back into the aid kit. “If it’s still bleeding by evening, call Emergencies.” Then she took the bag and stood up, turning to look at him one last time. He was observing her with a serious expression. “Also, don’t get that wound wet if you can help it, and remember to change the bandage from time to time and clean it.”

She turned to leave.

“Aren’t you going to introduce yourself, in case I have to enter your care in the future, Mouri-sensei?” he asked. Ran turned to look at him and saw how he got a lopsided smile while observing her.

Ran raised her other eyebrow before shaking her head. “I believe there are many other, more suitable doctors in Tokyo for you”, she answered before turning and walking off. She tried to walk as calmly as she could, trying to pretend like there was nothing wrong. She wouldn’t let him have the pleasure of seeing that he had gotten on her nerves, and at the same time, it would be only professional to stay calm, regardless of what kind of patients she would have. Some people were easy, some just wanted to try their limits.

But God, underneath she was boiling! She wanted too much to try her fist on something, to get that stupid man and his irritating attitude away from her head, away from her memories! She wanted to get home and complain to someone about how irritating people could be! And how dare he! Was he saying that she should stay at home to clean and cook because she was a woman?! And she wasn’t a crybaby! It was okay to cry, and it was okay to feel bad for the people who had seen something terrible, who had experienced something that would scar them the rest of their lives!

But it seemed that there was something wrong in that man’s brain! It seemed that he couldn’t understand. God, maybe he should be the one who should stay at home and clean and cook if he had nothing nice to say to other people!

She hated him. But luckily, she wouldn’t have to meet him ever again.

Ran came to the two paramedics who stood beside the ambulance. She tried to calm herself down. It wasn’t their fault that she was in a bad mood. So she let out a sigh and glanced around, trying to see if there still was someone who needed some first aid, but she didn’t spot anyone.

“Have you taken care of everyone?” she asked and looked at the paramedics.

“Yes, we did”, the man answered and smiled. “I think we can return to the hospital. Police will take care of the rest.”

Ran nodded and gave her aid kit to the man, who went back. The woman turned to go to the driver's side. Ran walked to the other side, almost wanting to glance towards that stupid man again, see if he had gotten up, but she stopped herself. No, she wouldn’t give that to him.

She got into the car and slammed the door behind her. She closed the seat belt, maybe a little harder than she should have, and then she turned to look out from the side window, waiting for the paramedic to drive away, get her away from this area, from that stupid man she would never see again. She would forget that man and pretend that this day never happened…

There was a sigh. And the car didn’t move.

“You know, Mouri-sensei… I’m a little envious of you.”

Ran frowned. “Why?” she asked and turned to look at the paramedic. The woman just sat there, hands on the steering wheel, staring straight ahead. Then she turned to look at Ran and smiled a little bit. “You got to treat the famous detective, Kudo Shinichi himself!”

Ran just stared at the woman, who looked so happy and dreamy when she turned back to stare ahead again, leaning on the steering wheel. “Oh, he is amazing! I admire him so much, he is intelligent, athletic, kind, good with words… And handsome. So handsome! Gosh, he’s got a charming smile and those eyes… So gentle and determined. So blue, like a clear ocean…” She shook her head a little and let out a sigh, looking like she was ready to float away. “I would have given everything to get a chance to treat him…”

Ran just stared at the woman. She wanted to puke. What were those words she’d used to describe that man? None of them made sense with him! Ran hadn’t seen anything great in that man! For the life of her, she couldn’t even see why anyone would envy her just because she happened to treat some wannabe detective who couldn’t say a single decent thing to her! God, he didn’t even thank her!

She wanted to let out a sigh and tell her that she should forget that “detective”. There was nothing great in him. But she was nice enough to not do that. Instead, she kept everything deep inside her and turned away, looking out from her window. “Well, if I knew that beforehand, I would have given it to you with pleasure.”

Chapter 2

Kesandu Elsayed Intro

MAGGIE, 21+, CST; SHE/HER. | if you’re hearing SEVERED CROSSED FINGERS by ST. VINCENT playing, you have to know KESANDU ELSAYED (SHE/HER; CIS WOMAN) is near by! the 40 year old ROMANCE AUTHOR & PROFESSOR has been in denver for, like, THIRTY YEARS. they’re known to be quite CYNICAL, but being CARING seems to balance that out. or maybe it’s the fact that they resemble WUNMI MOSAKU. personally, i’d love to know more about them seeing as how they’ve got those STARING AT THE BLANK PAGE BEFORE YOU, HOLDING A SECRET, & TRYING TO GET YOUR LIFE BACK ON TRACK vibes. and maybe i’ll get my chance if i hang out around the CHERRY CREEK DISTRICT long enough!

cheating tw, death tw, car crash tw

★𝘽𝙖𝙨𝙞𝙘 𝙄𝙣𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙢𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣★

Birth Date: March 3, 1983 Zodiac: Pisces Gender: Cis Woman Pronouns: She/Her Sexual Orientation: Pansexual Romantic Orientation: Demiromantic

★𝘼𝙥𝙥𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙖𝙣𝙘𝙚★

Height: 5′8″ Faceclaim: Wunmi Mosaku Hair color/style: Short, Black Eye color: Brown Tattoos: She has a flower bouquet on her right forearm

★𝙋𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙤𝙣𝙖𝙡𝙞𝙩𝙮★

Positive Traits: Caring, Hardworking, Organized Neutral Traits: Independent, Honest, Private Negative Traits: Cynical, Confrontational, Stubborn Fears: Abandonment, Humiliation, Not being good enough Goals: Get over her writers block, Travel more, Live her own life Hobbies: Writing, Cooking, Watching shitty tv, Hanging out with her friends and family

★𝙋𝙖𝙨𝙩★

Hometown: Denver, Colorado Education: BA in English Fathers: WC on main for adopted fathers!! Siblings: Yazmin Elsayed & Reggie Elsayed

★𝙋𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙚𝙣𝙩★

Residence: Cherry Creek District Job: Romance Author & Adjunct Professor at University of Denver Significant Others: No one currently How Long She’s Been Here: Thirty Years

★𝘽𝙞𝙤𝙜𝙧𝙖𝙥𝙝𝙮★

Kesandu grew up with with two very loving adopted fathers along with two younger siblings. They were all a happy family who made sure to travel when the children were young to experience the world, before eventually settling down in Denver. Kesandu had always been interested in writing, making original stories for as long as she remembered, but it wasn't until college that she found that her specialty was writing romance.

Everyone joked that of course it was easy for the romance ideas to come to her, after all her college sweetheart and herself always seemed like the perfect couple. Kesandu fell for them fast and hard and soon after the two of them were married. While Kesandu was supporting her husband's dream of writing the next Great American Novel™️ (yes unfortunately he was also a male author), she was writing her own novels that she never intended to see the light of day. It wasn't until her husband's publicist found some of her writings that she was encouraged to get her work out to the public, and to her surprise it was a hit. Luckily for the world, Kesandu had many ideas already written and just needed to be polished. Soon Kesandu became a well known name within the romance genre and housewives everywhere loved her.

As much as her husband tried to hide his jealousy that Kesandu was becoming more and more famous, it became clear and started to put a strain on their relationship. He eventually started cheating and eventually became less and less worried about covering his tracks. She was about to confront her husband and try to come to a solution with their relationship when she received a call that he had died in a car crash. Not only that, but his partner was in the car with him and passed away as well. She tried her best to keep it out of the press that he was with someone else, after all she didn't want her reputation to be tarnished, but as the years passed she's feeling more and more angry about it.

Now Kesandu has not written a book in years since her husband died, how can she write about a couple being happy when she so clearly had failed in her own relationship? She has since taken up a teaching position at the University of Colorado and has started volunteering her time at the local theater. She wants to write but hasn't gotten over her writer's block.

★𝙒𝙖𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙙 𝘾𝙤𝙣𝙣𝙚𝙘𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙨★

It Happened To You - This will be a WC sent in the main but this will be the partner of the person her husband was cheating with. This could be so much fun and dramatic just the two of them knowing what really happened.

Close Friends - She's been here for a while so they've probably known each other if you're a local!

Author Friends - Are you an author? Want to be an author? Here's your chance to have a best selling author as a friend!

Students - She's mostly been teaching the last two or three years or so. Maybe she has taught your muse!

Fans - She left her last book on a cliff hanger with no plans to continue it, maybe you have a bone to pick with her because of it! Or in general maybe you like her stuff (even if it's not romance, I'm sure she has other genres out there that haven't been as big of a hit as romance)

Literally anything please !!

★𝙋𝙡𝙖𝙮𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩★

Severed Crossed Fingers by St. Vincent

Washing Machine Heart by Mitski

Night Shift by Lucy Dacus

Not Strong Enough by Boy Genius

I Wish I Were The Moon by Neko Case

The Night We Met by Lord Huron

A Lack of Color by Death Cab for Cutie

Sea of Love by Cat Power

Linger by The Cranberries

Ritual Union by Little Dragon

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Serpent Style

Commission for Agentxy14, with story by them, Aubrey and colouring by AxiomTF

Agent needed a haircut desperately. He typically allowed himself to grow out his hair for a short while—enough to form some characteristic depth and add something nice to his silhouette—before trimming the entire mass and starting from scratch. On that occasion, however, he was three weeks overdue for his usual trim, and his hair had grown unruly in the process. The extra length was not unnoticed by Vanessa, who gave an amused noise. “That certainly makes you look cuter,” she said, peeking over her favorite recliner to comment on her ward. “Lose the beard and we could make a proper female. Or femboy.” Agent blushed very hard at that. “I don’t—I really don’t think I could manage that,” he said, trying to brush off the comment. “I just can’t find a good barber.” Vanessa twisted her body around, giving Agent her full attention. “Why can’t you use your usual?” “It closed down,” Agent explained. “I guess they just couldn’t compete in this economy. Or it was a front, I’m not entirely sure.” “Well, fortunately for you, I have a solution,” Vanessa smirked. She reached into her bottomless cleavage, pulling out a colorful business card. “Courtesy of the United Kingdom in some reality.” She handed over the card, Agent taking it delicately. He inspected it carefully. “Aubrey’s Boutique” was the name of the business, the card itself professionally constructed and crafted. Plus, a bonus! “Bring this card for 50% your first trim!” was the special offer on the back. Quite a bargain, Agent thought. “This guy’s the real deal,” Vanessa said, with uncharacteristic seriousness. She patted her own styled hair to demonstrate. “You think these gravity-defying tips are natural? Well, they are, but someone has to upkeep them.” “Neat,” Agent said. He still felt apprehensive, however. “I don’t know, though…” “Oh boy, this again…” Vanessa said. “Look, we’ve talked about you trying new things. That means new businesses. And new people.” Agent rubbed the back of his neck. “I suppose…” he said. “Okay, sure. I’ll give it a try.” … Thus he found himself outside a quaint shop in a smaller village within the mythical and fantastical realm of modern-day England. It seemed nice enough, a stout brick structure that had some history, while still keeping up with current-generation sensibilities. There were also plenty of flowers adorning the windows and side walls, making the whole area pleasantly scented. It was all so inviting. So suspicious. He opened the door cautiously, peeking inside even as he heard the tinkling of the bell above him. Agent half expected the inside to be some sort of otherworldly portal or incomprehensible architecture. But no; it was standard faire for a modest barbershop out of the beaten path. A few stools in front of mirrors, posters advertising hair-care products and the shop’s own specialties. There were quite a few knick-knacks on shelves, various artifacts that looked fancy and expensive. Various other features looked rather pricey, too; a chandelier above, made of crystal, for example. And the colors were vibrant and bright, complimenting the inviting nature of the outside with the comforting inside. “Why, hellooooo!” A voice called from around the corner, before someone stepped into view. Agent was mildly surprised to see how well-kept they were, similarly bright colors and a comfortable state of attire on them. He was slightly more surprised to see the voice and the owner of said shop was in fact an anthropomorphic snake, smiling with the air of a fond relative. Agent relaxed somewhat at the sight. Despite the fangs, it was clear this figure was no threat. “My, don’t you look lovely today,” the snake said, stepping forward to catch a closer look. “Well, don’t be shy, darling! Step on inside and we’ll have a look at you, hmm?” Agent did as instructed, walking fully inside, hearing the door shut behind him with a gentle thud and a light tinkling from the bell. He still felt uncomfortable, an affect of being somewhere new with someone equally as new. “You mussst be Agent,” the snake said, a light hiss when he said his “s” sound. He offered to take his hand, something that Agent slowly reciprocated. The snake gently clasped Agent’s hand in both of his own, before leaning in for a light kiss of greeting just atop the knuckles. “Vanessa spoke highly of you and told me you were scheduling an appointment here. My name is Aubrey, and it is a pleasssure to make your delightful acquaintance today!” “Likewise,” Agent agreed, giving a small smile. He was quite flattered at how flamboyant Aubrey was being, the snake acting as the picture of class and sophistication. He couldn’t exactly tell whether Aubrey was also subtly flirting, however; he’d have thought, after spending time with Vanessa for so long, he could figure these things out, but it was still too early to tell. He was handsome, though, he thought. Aubrey put his hands against his hips, deep in thought as he analyzed Agent’s hair. “Hmm…” he said. “Yes, with a bit of styling…Maybe a smidgen of coloration…” Eventually he snapped out of it, giving an apologetic grin. “Ah, how rude of me,” he said. “Stylist’s insight, darling. I was imagining what we could do with your glorious locksss, but I should first seek your input. Our clients come first.” “Oh, this?” Agent said, idly brushing his hair with his fingers. “I…hadn’t actually thought it out. Maybe just trim the whole thing?” “The whole thing?” Aubrey seemed distressed at the thought, and Agent lightly shrunk backwards. Aubrey wasn’t angry, though; he was merely alarmed. “To cut off the entire length is quite a drastic change, dearessst,” he explained. “Why would you go about such a decision?” “I dunno, I just…” Agent had to ponder this question. “I just don’t really do much with it…” Aubrey nodded, lost again in thought. “I see,” he said. A firmer nod, realization striking. “Before I get to work, would you care to humor me for a spell?” “I…sure,” Agent said. “See, that's what has been bothering me since you first walked in,” Aubrey said. “The walk, the hesitation. Trimming a fabulousss asset. You, my darling friend, have confidence issues, do you not?” Agent blinked at how forward this question was. “Well, yes,” he said. “Was it that obvious?” “You don’t get to be my level of mastery without learning about people deeper than they know themselves,” Aubrey chuckled. “You’re merely going with what you know and understand, fearful of the unknown. Fearful of change. When you look in the mirror, you want to see the same old you every morning.” He shook his head. “No way to live life. Carpe diem, that’s the ssspice of life, darling.” It was like Aubrey was listing off Agent’s autobiography. “Ouch,” he said, rubbing the back of his head. “What would you suggest? I’ve tried a lot of things before.” “Yes, but were they your choice, or Vanessa’s?” Aubrey said. He gave a pointed glance, idly gesturing with a pair of scissors in the process. “Don’t get me wrong, I love Vanessa like a sister, she’s wonderful, but she understands nothing about personal growth and consent. I bet she just drags you out on adventures that SSSHE wants you to do. You just grow by proxy.” “I mean, you’re not wrong here,” Agent admitted, increasingly awkward about the whole affair. “How would I break away from it?” “By being given a choice of your own, and taking it,” Aubrey explained. He walked over to his stylist’s desk, flinging a set of cabinets open on one side of the mirror. He rummaged through the contents, eventually giving a pleased “aha” from his find. He pulled out a small glass vial, setting it on the desk, and then closed the cabinet. “What we have here is a potent ingredient of my own making,” Aubrey explained. “Normally I would prank Vanessa with this one, but you, my darling, could use the beneficial effects more than even she.” “You say it’s a prank?” Agent asked. He wasn’t certain how this factored into Aubrey’s plans, but he gave the snake the benefit of the doubt. “This incredible piece of alchemy is a Thimble of Twinning, imbued with my most exquisite self as the base,” Aubrey said. “I merely lather this directly into your scalp, and the ingredients sink in, changing you into myself, mind and body.” He winked. “No better shape, in my opinion; I’m simply fabulousss!” “R-right,” Agent stammered briefly. A twinning potion? No wonder Vanessa recommended this place so highly. And yet... “Why tell me all of this?” “Because I will strictly abstain from using it on you unless you explicitly ask,” Aubrey said, raising a finger; his wrist remained limp from the motion. “Remember, about making a conscious choice to embrace the unusual and grow from the experience? I will give you your requested haircut, as much as removing those gorgeous locks pains me. There will be no consequence for not doing it, of course. But should you wish to experience life as one of the most confident people out there? Experience true beauty? Have my mentality rub off on you after the fact? Merely say the words, and I will happily provide you with your sssanctuary.” Agent didn’t immediately say anything, even as Aubrey gestured to the barber’s stool. “Now then, I do believe we’ve dawdled long enough,” he explained. “Let’s begin your appointment, darling.” The nerd obediently followed his stylist’s instructions, taking a seat on the stool carefully, facing the mirror. He could see Aubrey’s reflection prepare a smock to keep the hair from falling onto his clothing, tying it around Agent’s neck. He didn’t really focus on Aubrey’s movements, however. Nor did he look at his reflection, just as awkward as he saw this morning. His vision was directed at the vial Aubrey called attention to, just sitting on the desk. Untouched. Practically calling for him. It would have been quite the change, he knew, though this wouldn’t be anything he hadn’t experienced before. Who knew how many times Agent had turned into an anthro twin of another? He certainly lost count. This didn’t even factor in how often Vanessa forcibly made herself a twin sister for the manor to have around. It was fully his choice. A conscious decision he could make could be the first step he needed to truly build confidence. To be another identity, however? It was a real Ship of Theseus situation, he supposed. If it bled into his own personality, that would certainly justify the changes, but otherwise he was just putting a bandage on top of the problem. Hiding from himself. No, not hiding. Not quite, anyway. Facing his identity head-on, perhaps. How much of himself was himself? After turning into a snake man, could he truly look at himself the same after? Aubrey had held his scissors in place, examining Agent’s hair from all angles, debating where to start. Closer to the skull, perhaps? Or should he start near the neckline, give himself some breathing room? “Wait.” Aubrey’s motions were paused. He looked into the mirror, seeing Agent’s face, resolve written all over him. Deep inside, Aubrey could tell what was about to happen. And he was proud. “I’ll take it,” Agent continued. “The vial. I’d like to experience it myself.” Aubrey looked down at his own experiment, giving a smile. “Why, certainly,” he said. “And I must say, I’m so very pleased at your decision. You’ll make a most exquisite me.” He took the vial off of the desk, removing the stopper on the glass lips. Tantalizingly, he dangled it over Agent’s head with a mischievous grin, before pouring the entire contents atop his hair. It already had felt oddly tingly on Agent’s scalp, even on the surface. The latent magic energy was certainly effective, he thought, moments before Aubrey started massaging it deeper, allowing the substance to sink in through the pores. The results were rapid, that same tingling sensation swiftly covering every square inch of Agent’s body, intensifying, tightening. It was all so...so...marvelous. As Aubrey continued to massage the elixir into his ward’s scalp, he could feel the hair between his fingers moving with ease. A reptile such as himself could not grow hair, after all, and thus Agent’s changing physiology was learning this fact in real-time. Some clumps started shrinking and reabsorbing themselves into his skull. Others began falling out entirely, softly landing on the ground and on the apron in a tidy heap. It was bittersweet, Aubrey thought. Such luxurious hair, gone. But with time, and after the transformation would end, it would grow back just as majestically as the original. For now, the snake barber watched as Agent began to shift and warp under his delicate fingertips. Scales were forming piece by piece, patches appearing in groups of two, then three, then much more, all in the same vibrant color he himself possessed. Through the mirror, he could see Agent’s mouth, and the growing fangs jutting out from beneath his lips. His face, too, was pushing forward into a pristine snake muzzle, not too short and not too long. From Agent’s perspective, new sensations were forming. His internal clock was working overtime, the curious feeling of years passing in seconds overtaking him, from twenty-eight to the mid-thirties. It didn’t fully register to Agent, however; the once-human was feeling the mental changes do their work, superimposing new memories over his old ones, dreams of being a stylist, a childhood as a snake-boy, the many guys he had pined over. This wasn’t to say that everything was being concealed, of course; Agent still had full awareness that he used to be a human male with a limp personality. The new mindset merely was a tarp over the original mentality, concealing the old traits temporarily while the new ones ran the body. And that, New Aubrey thought, was perfectly alright by him. He closed his eyes, humming to himself as Aubrey continued to massage his scalp. Truly he knew his craft, as well as all the best places to knead into for maximum pleasure. He allowed his tail to grow, pushing against his jeans until the pressure was too much, tearing through the threads with an audible ripping sound, the new appendage coiling longer and longer. He felt somewhat colder now in the room, his blood changing to match his proper species. Perhaps the air conditioner was up too high again...Fortunately there were some spare clothes in the back room, just his size. Just his style, too. A handsome snake such as himself had to look his absolute best at all times. Eventually Aubrey allowed his hands to pull away from his twin’s head, and he examined his workmanship. It was, literally and figuratively, like looking in a mirror, an exact replica of himself in the stool in front of him. The new Aubrey was smirking with mischief on the mind, preening his head slowly to the left and right, absorbing the new features. “An exquisite job as always, darling,” he said. “Of course, I wouldn’t expect anything less from myself.” “It’s such a delight, knowing I’ve made another of my clientsss pleased,” the real Aubrey said with a wide smile. The original stylist stepped around the copy, taking both hands gently into his own. He helped his clone stand up, the two firing each other flirtatious glances all the while. “So, tell me,” he asked. “How do you feel?” “Better than I have ever felt,” New Aubrey said. “I feel...Well, like my old self, but better. More alive, I suppose? It’s a lot to take in, but it’s certainly nothing a pair of strikingly delightful ssspecimens can’t handle, no?” “Very true,” Aubrey laughed. He carefully untied the apron, setting it aside, all while never breaking eye contact. He certainly did an excellent job, he thought, down to the last physical detail. Of course, some more intimate details might have to be inspected later, when the boutique was closed for the night. “I’ll be sure to pass you along to Vanessa,” Aubrey continued. “Later. For now, I could use a hand styling some of my later clients, if you wish. Perhaps we could get to know each other better?” New Aubrey grinned. “That sounds like a sssplendid idea, darling,” he said. “And I can use your years of practice to speak with everyone as well. I thank you for your charitable offer.” The two laughed in stereo, pleased with the company of themselves. Two identical serpents, the pictures of grace with the attitude to match.

SEKTION: Your Kitchen, Your Way with IKEA

In Canada, IKEA has a few different kitchen lines, with the most popular and versatile one being called SEKTION.

SEKTION has become a staple in IKEA's kitchen offerings, known for its easy setup, flexibility, and sleek modern aesthetics. SEKTION is a modular line where the cabinet dimensions are pre-set, but the layout and functionality can be entirely tailored to your needs.

Flat-Pack to Fabulous

Hey there, design enthusiasts! Let's talk kitchen magic, shall we? IKEA's SEKTION kitchen line is where style meets flexibility. SEKTION's versatile range includes base, wall, high, and specialty cabinets, allowing homeowners to customize their kitchen layout. It offers practically endless combinations of drawers, pull-out shelves, and doors - you name it, SEKTION lets you create a combination that fits you perfectly. Cabinets come in various heights and depths, ensuring both visual appeal and ergonomic functionality.

This accent door is called HASSLARP, and it is offered in a few dimensions. It’s giving mid-century modern.

While bold colors like red or yellow aren't available, SEKTION offers timeless options such as white, navy blue, black, and various wood grains. Homeowners can choose from traditional, modern, or minimalist designs to match their overall kitchen aesthetic. This variety ensures that the kitchen reflects a unique style, and in 2023, the selection range is vast. Trust me; your dream kitchen aesthetic? It's waiting for you in SEKTION.

Here is a link to the door color selection: https://www.ikea.com/ca/en/rooms/kitchen/kitchen-door-and-drawer-front-styles-pubddda6331#all

AXSTAD in blue and white. A matte shaker door/drawer. This is more of a farm house look.

STENSUND beige. I love a neutral, nude kitchen.

Now, here's the real beauty - modularity. The units are modular, which means you can choose different-sized cabinets ranging from 12 inches wide to 36 inches wide. The modular nature of SEKTION allows for easy expansion or modification of the kitchen in the future. This modularity means your kitchen can evolve with you. You can add new interior fixtures, change doors for drawers, and update components without a major overhaul. Need more storage? More lighting? Dreaming of a different layout? Go ahead, change it up! It's a practical choice for an ever-evolving kitchen.

It's like adult LEGO for your kitchen

VOXTORP white doors with integrated handles

SEKTION offers the following widths of cabinets: 12 inches, 15 inches, 18 inches, 21 inches, 24 inches, 30 inches, and 36 inches. The base cabinets are 24 inches deep, and the wall cabinets are 15 inches deep. Wall cabinets can be in heights of 15 inches, 20 inches, 30 inches, or 40 inches. You can use these boxes anywhere, as they are attached to the wall with a railing.

VEDDINGE white door and FRÖJERED drawer front

IKEA provides all sorts of clever interior fittings that are adjustable to suit the user's needs best. This adaptability ensures efficient use of space and easy organization. IKEA's extensive collection of jars, containers, and storage solutions ensures that every inch of your kitchen is utilized effectively.

IKEA's interior organizational fittings are a game-changer in the world of kitchen design. Among their innovations, the hidden drawer in the SEKTION line stands out, providing a discreet yet highly functional storage option.

BODBYN Gray door

There is the option to add lighting under the cabinets, inside them, or inside drawers that turn on when you open them.

HEJSTA reeded glass doors, like are you kidding me???

SEKTION cabinets are designed to seamlessly integrate with appliances such as ovens, microwaves, refrigerators, and dishwashers. Some appliances can even be covered with a door that is the same as the rest of the kitchen cabinets.

Which one is the fridge?

IKEA isn’t just about fantastic designs; they've got your back when it comes to installation too. That means you can trust the same people who designed your kitchen to install it seamlessly. It can be done yourself as the process is straight forward, but I wouldn’t recommend it unless you have carpentry experience and the right tools.

VEDDINGE doors

Now, let’s talk about price. IKEA’s offering top-notch quality and style at a price point that won’t break the bank. I’ve searched high and low, and trust me, nowhere else offers this level of elegance and smart design at such competitive rates. A kitchen like the one above might cost maybe 8K with the appliances included (based on the hundreds of IKEA kitchens I have personally designed).

In a world that's all about evolving trends and modern sensibilities, SEKTION stands tall as the modern and smart choice. Whether you’re a minimalist, a maximalist, or someone in between, SEKTION is the kitchen makeover you’ve been dreaming of. IKEA is a one-stop-shop for kitchen cabinets, the dishes, the table, the furniture and installation.

Ready to transform your culinary space into a personalized haven? Explore the endless possibilities of IKEA's SEKTION kitchen with cosyefficient’s exclusive design service! Use the specialized computer software for SEKTION kitchens [IKEA SEKTION PLANNER], where you can either dive into designing yourself or opt for a hands-on experience. Schedule a one-on-one appointment with me, a qualified IKEA kitchen design professional, and let's bring your dream kitchen to life together. We'll craft a design tailored to your taste and needs, ensuring your kitchen becomes a true reflection of your style. Don't miss out on the chance to cook, dine, and entertain in a kitchen that's uniquely yours.

Contact me at [email protected] or send me a message here on my website.

Render I made on the IKEA planner

Cabinets open

Elevations

Detailed item list

Floor plan

I posted a series on TikTok about how to use the planner, you can find it here: https://www.tiktok.com/@claracosyefficient

Here is the digital catalogue for 2023 SEKTION: https://www.ikea.com/ca/en/files/pdf/16/e1/16e13990/kitchen-english.pdf

ENKOPING white and brown cabinet fronts

So, there you have it, folks! Stylish, flexible, competitively priced, modern, and smart - that’s IKEA’s SEKTION for you.

All pictures taken from IKEA Canada website, ikea.ca

LOVERS LIVE A LITTLE LONGER

pairing: sally mckenna x reader

word count: 1682

notes and warnings: HAPPY PRIDE MONTH!!!(remember that you are valid and loved) this fic is in honor of pride <3 also, title from the song by abba. TW: alcohol, cigarettes.

summary: you and sally throw a party in the hotel to celebrate pride month

You collapsed onto the bed with a huff, ignoring the way she looked at you in amusement. “Why not?”

“No one would come,” she tried, shaking her head. “It would be a waste of time.”

“Fuck everyone else, it would be fun for the two of us.”

Sally lit a cigarette, buying herself time to think of a response.

You took this as another chance to try to convince her to help you throw the party. You were very adamant about celebrating your first Pride Month with Sally, and since she couldn’t leave the hotel to attend any festivities, you had concluded that bringing festivities to the hotel would be the perfect solution. “Nothing has happened here since that fucking fashion show, and that was so long ago.”

She gave you a look of annoyance, yet a smirk played at her lips. “That was only a few months ago, baby.”

Knowing she was right, you needed a different approach, yet as you watched her partly-obscured figure through the smoke, you knew she would never relent.

“Fuck it,” you stood and continued, “I’m throwing the damn party whether you like it or not. I’ll get drunk by myself if you’re so determined not to have a good time.”

You started toward the door to her hotel room, yet just as you suspected she might, she stopped you. She was right behind you in a silent moment, a hand clasping one of your wrists.

“Don’t leave,” she breathed – for though she knew you would never, her fear was always there, a shadow lurking in every corner, watching her in every moment.

“I’m not going anywhere… I’m going to go ask Liz if she’ll help me.”

“No, no, baby, stay. I’ll help you.”

“I thought you said it was a waste of time?” you turned around, meeting her eyes. Your voice softened upon seeing her conflicted expression. “It’s okay if you don’t want to do this. You’re probably right, anyway.”

“No, I want to. If it’s so important to you, we should do it… and you said we could get drunk?”

You laughed, nodding. “Yeah, of course. And we could even play some of your music, if you’d like.”

Her face lit up, and you knew now that she was getting genuinely excited, not just planning the party for your sake alone. “Mine? That I wrote?”

“Yes, Sally, your music. We can make a playlist, too.”

“Okay,” she nodded, tears slipping from her eyes, your suggestion of playing her music touching her more deeply than you knew. “But no fucking ABBA on the playlist.”

“What the fuck? Why not?”

She smiled softly. “I know you love them, but if I weren’t already dead, I would die from how annoyed I get when I listen to their music.”

“Sally!” you chided, and for once, she laughed genuinely.

A/N: guys i love abba i promise please don't come for me

Her hands found your waist, pulling you closer. “You’re everything to me. You have no idea.”

“I love you, so much.”

Your words caused her more tears, and you wiped them away, gently meeting her lips, a wordless oath of your imperishable love.

–

You sat at the bar, having just finished working out a menu with Liz – you had tried a variety of different drink mixes, for the two of you had decided that you needed to create some sort of specialty for the event.

You would never admit to it, but you had consumed a bit too much alcohol, and half of the Pride decorations still needed to be put up around the hotel’s lobby.

So far, you had decorated the bar in rainbow fairy lights, which cast a glow throughout the dreary lobby of the hotel. You had also covered the balconies and stair banisters in various pride flags, having gone out and bought a flag for every sexuality and identity.

All you had to do now was fill some balloons, maybe hang a banner, and put up more string lights.

You had let Sally prepare a playlist for the event, and you didn’t have any doubt that it would be a compilation of 70s and 80s rock.

Knowing Sally would scare away more guests than she would invite, you had made Tristan go around the hotel and invite a majority of the murderous souls trapped alongside you, and you were confident that there would be a decent turnout, even if you had to hunt down every guest and drag them to the party yourself. This was definitely an option you would consider if things went awry.

Never in your life had you spent so much money on fairy lights, and all of those fuckers were going to enjoy them whether they liked it or not.

A packet of balloons was on the bar, and began to fill a balloon, feeling lightheaded after a moment from the combination of a lack of oxygen and an abundance of booze.

You wished you had made someone else try all of the drink combinations.

You sighed, slightly anxious that the event wouldn’t turn out, that no one would come, that it was all a huge mistake. Only a few hours remained until the party was set to start, and you wished to call it all off.

Tying the balloon, you held back the urge to stomp on it.

Feeling the balloon being taken out of your hand, you jumped, yet you were quickly reassured when you turned and saw Sally at your side.

“I finished the playlist,” she announced proudly, and you offered her a small smile. She noticed your lack of enthusiasm immediately. “Are you okay? What happened? Was it the fucker staying in room–”

“No, it’s fine, I’m fine,” you assured her, though you knew she did not believe you. With a sigh, you relented. “Was this a mistake? Too much, too little?”

Relief hit her at the realization that this was all that was troubling you. “It’s perfect. Really. Nothing good ever happens in this hellhole. You’ve given everyone something to be excited about.”

“Really?”

“Really,” she confirmed, giving you a quick kiss before holding up the balloon. “Now, where is this going?”

“I thought of hanging it somewhere, I’m not sure.”

“We could see how many ways you could kill someone with balloons?”

“Sally!” you hissed, though you couldn’t help but laugh. “No murder until after the party, please.”

“Aw, but where’s the fun in that?” She teased, smirking.

“Think about it this way — the more people you kill, the less people get to listen to your music.”

She considered it, and with a smile, you knew you had won. “Alright, alright… where am I hanging this fucking balloon?”

—

Music blasted through the hotel, the lights dimmed except for the multicolored fairy lights glowing through the lobby.

Cigarette smoke made the air thick and clouded, though you hardly minded as you were too intoxicated to care, sitting at the bar with Sally with a cocktail in your hand as you briefly watched the guests dance and trip over each other in their drunken state.

Sally had filmed what must have been thousands of TikToks during the earlier stages of the party, you and Liz in almost all of them, and as she kept posting them your phone was chirping non-stop from the overload of notifications.

She set her phone on the table, a look of contentment making its way to her features as she examined the crowd before turning to meet your eyes.

“You really pulled it off,” Sally grinned, lighting a cigarette. “I’m proud.”

You chuckled lightly, a bit surprised yourself that you were able to host the whole event in such a limited time. “Well, I wouldn’t have been able to without you. This whole damn party is for us, you know. For everyone who’s trapped, hidden away from the celebrations they wish they could join.”

“I’m starting to feel bad for not adding any ABBA to the playlist.”

“It’s alright, I still have eternity to force you to listen to all of their albums.”

“Oh no,” Sally groaned, feigning disgust. “Just kill me already — oh, wait,” she smirked, yet as quick as her joyousness came, it disappeared, and you noticed immediately. Like the changing of the tide, every emotion was recognizable to you in a single moment.

“Are you okay?”

“Why are you spending your life with me?” She asked quietly, and you almost couldn’t hear her over the music. “You have your whole future ahead of you, and I’ll always be here, within these rotting walls.”

You stood, moving close to her, running a finger along her jaw, and you were reminded once more that in her entirety, she was a work of art. “You are all I need, Sally. You are my future.”

She started to cry, her eyes averting your gaze. “Wouldn’t you rather live anywhere else? Away from all of the killing and manipulation? Nothing here is worthwhile.”

“Nothing but you,” you corrected, and she finally met your eyes. “I don’t care if I ever leave this hotel again — as long as I’m with you, I’ll be happy. You’re all I need.”

“You’re sure?”

You answered her with a kiss, your hand trailing to the back of her neck, and it took all of your strength to find the will to pull away. “I love you, Sally.”

A song Sally had written began to play, and it was electrifying.

“I love you, too,” her response was given with a smile.

Love was all she needed — all either of you needed.

For love is all we have. All we search for is the epiphany of giving, of receiving just as we have been promised, for the truest goodness in the world has been given from our hearts.

Love could never be wrong, for it was destined.

The party continued long into the night, for everyone in attendance knew of the power they held in a spirit of love, a spirit of authenticity.

Whoever they were, they knew that they were divine — and love was all they needed.

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Taglist!

@traumatisedfangirl @cordeliass @devriesgoode

if you’d like to be added or taken off, let me know! <3