It's been what, two years? And I can still safely say that the Fabulous App was the best investment I ever made in terms of my mental health.

Once again, to stress, I do not spend money on ANYTHING for my phone. If the app isn't free, it doesn't exist. I would rather risk the virus infested depths of davy jone's putlocker than spend a dollar on a youtube movie rental

But Fabulous? Worth. Every. Penny.

Request thing: Steve Roger + "you're so cute" "what did you just say?" "I said you look like a boot"

(Omif there are others feel free to ignore mines cause I am just being greedy now)

There aren't others. Pretty sure there's only 4 of you out there reading me anymore :D

word count: 1951

@bolontiku @rampant-salamander @castiels-sunflowers @feelmyroarrrr __________

Steve Rogers irritated the shit out of you. From the moment Nick Fury thought you should babysit him, he’d just been annoying in all his ‘Gee Golly Ma’am’ goodness and earnest honesty and, well, and he just annoyed you. Sure, he was handsome, and his physique left not a single area needing improvement. And yes, his dry sense of humour and quick way with words made most people just fall into the Captain America fan club without questioning the price of admission. But you couldn’t. You’d been stung before. There was no way someone who looked like the whole package wasn’t hiding something.

You were parked at your desk, cursing a major snarl in traffic that had caused you to skip picking up a coffee. There was a cute barista at the coffee shop by your apartment and you’d been working your way up to asking his name, but missing a single day had made your courage evaporate. You dug through your drawer, but had apparently run out of pods for the office keurig. Digging into your purse, you pulled out a few bills and made your way to the coffee shop on the main floor. 

Smothering a yawn, you made your order and tried to pay. The young woman behind the counter shook her head and tilted it to where the drinks were coming up. “He paid for you, ma’am.” You followed her gaze over and cringed. Of course, it was goddamn Steve. 

“Thanks,” you grumbled as you approached him. He smiled.

“My pleasure, Agent,” he nodded. After a brief pause, he continued, “You’re a tough nut to crack, you know. I’m never quite sure what you think of all this.” He gestured around vaguely.

“I’m really into coffee. So this is okay,” you replied, deliberately being difficult. He frowned, and then sighed.

“I kind of meant what you think about this.” Again, the gesture was vague, but he included himself, and pointed obviously above you both, where the offices were. 

“Does it matter? It pays well, I have great health insurance and a not-shitty 401K. It’s not exactly what I went to university for, but every day is different, and I’ve met some pretty interesting people,” you shrugged.

“Interesting way to look at it.” There was a soft, humble chuckle that escaped him and just made you even more irritated. You closed your eyes to avoid rolling them. Your name was called, and you opened your eyes, took your coffee and smiled blandly at him.

“Thanks for the joe, Steve,” you nodded again, and made your way back to your office.

__________

“I don’t want to go,” you protested to your handler. He sighed and glared at you.

“Look, your specialized knowledge of the era and the subject means that -”

“No, I get it. Really, I do. But what you’re asking me to do is straight-up psychological manipulation, which is not what I’m here for. I’m here because I have extensive specialized knowledge about the era and -”

“Your PhD is on the impact of the loss of Sgt. Barnes on the Howling Commandos and Steve. You have immense knowledge about Barnes, and about his friendship with Steve. If anyone is going to be able to work with Captain Rogers on the deprogramming of Barnes, it’s you. Whether or not you want to go, you are going.” Nick Fury had entered the room and interrupted you.

“But -” you started. Fury silenced you with a glare. You sighed and pursed your lips.

“You’re the only agent I’ve ever had complain about being assigned to work with Rogers,” he started. “Care to explain?”

“It has nothing to do with him, sir,” you lied. Fury raised his eyebrow, clearly not believing you.

“Figure it out. You two are wheels-up in an hour.”

__________

You leaned back in the quinjet hold and closed your eyes, trying to imagine Steve Rogers was not sitting across from you, staring daggers at you. 

“I have to ask, Agent. What did I do that was so offensive? Was it the coffee? I know a lot of dames, er, women, don’t like it when men do that anymore,” he broke the silence.

“Not at all, I very much appreciated the coffee,” you replied, keeping your tone light. You were very well aware that your issue was with you, and not actually with him. You’d been mulling it over since he’d bought the damn coffee. All you could come up with was that you were behaving like a child with a crush. You couldn’t accept that you liked him, so you chose to dislike him instead.

“Did I say or do something at some other time?”

“Not at all,” you shook your head.

“Captain Rogers, we’re about to land,” the pilot interrupted. “Based on scans you have approximately three minutes once off the jet to find cover. There’s frequent patrols of the area by Hydra agents, and no real way to keep this bird off the radar.”

“We’ll finish this chat later,” Steve promised.

Once off the jet, you followed him into the forest to find cover. Just as the pilot had warned, it was not long after you deplaned that a patrol came by, and Steve tackled you into the underbrush. You pushed at him feebly, opening your mouth to protest, and he slapped his hand across your mouth, nodding to the west, where the crunch of leaves betrayed the patrol’s presence. Your eyes widened and you quit moving. When you were clear of danger, he rolled off you.

“Some warning would have been nice,” you whispered as you picked pine needles and moss out of your hair.

“Yeah, that sounds like a great plan,” he hissed back. “Hey goons, we’re over here!”

“I’m sure your super-soldiery brain could have figured out a way to give me a heads up before you tackled me,” you snapped back. 

“Ingrate,” he muttered, loudly enough that you could hear him.

“Jackass,” you retorted. His eyebrow raised.

“Watch your language,” he warned.

“Because it might offend the hydra goon squad?” You asked.

“You know, dames didn’t used to talk like that.” His tone was tight. You rolled your eyes.

“I’d like to remind you, I’m an agent first, an expert in history second and a dame third, you fucking cro-magnon,” you spat. “Also, this isn’t my first rodeo, Cap. I’ve been on surveillance missions before. I also saw the patrol.”

Steve glared at you and shook his head. “Instead of arguing about the finer points of your genetic composition, do you think you can drop your hate for the rest of the mission? If Bucky’s here, I’d like to find him. And Fury assured me, you’re the agent for the job if we do.”

“Is that an order, Cap?” You asked. He looked away, and drew in a deep, steadying breath.

“Yes, agent, I believe it is,” he snapped.

__________

You’d been unsuccessful. You’d managed to infiltrate the base, but the cells were all empty. The base had just recently been cleared out, and there was enough equipment left behind that you felt confident it was where Sgt. Barnes had been held, at some point. On your way to the extraction point, you saw muzzle-flash and moved faster than you thought possible to knock Steve out of the way. A blinding pain struck you in the midsection and Steve turned around to watch you fall to the ground, a silent scream on your lips. The look of combined annoyance and fear on his face was the last thing you remembered seeing before blackness took you.

When you came to, it was so bright you blinked and lifted your hand to cover your eyes, pressing them shut again. There was an overpowering smell of antiseptic and an IV tethered to your right hand. A monitor beeped systematically and you realized it was a heart monitor when it matched pace with the thumping in your head. You were parched, and when you tried to push yourself to sit, a gentle hand landed on your chest, pressing you back into the mattress.

“Stay put. There’s a remote here, I’ll lift your head,” a gentle male voice rumbled. Your head slowly lifted and you tried opening your eyes again, just a little. Through your lashes, you saw Steve pouring you a glass of water. He held it out to you. “Just sips.”

It was cool against your lips, and you sucked in a couple of little chips of ice to suck on. 

“Thanks,” you breathed. “What happened?”

“We didn’t find Bucky,” he started. “We were headed to the quinjet and you decided to play hero and jumped in front of a bullet.”

“You’re welcome,” you coughed. He raised the bed a little higher. Your eyes finally adapted to the bright light of the infirmary and you looked at him. He was still in his uniform, was wearing a fair amount of your blood and looked angry.

“What kind of idiotic idea was that, anyhow?” He demanded. Your ears rang at the heightened volume of his voice. You flinched in pain.

“I saw the muzzle flash and just moved,” you replied. 

“A bullet wound to the shoulder would barely slow me down,” he snapped. “Instead you took one to the lung and required a few hours of surgery.”

“Sorry that I was such a huge inconvenience to you,” you managed. “Maybe you should make it clear to Fury that you don’t want to partner with me again.”

“Maybe if you didn’t have such a huge goddamn chip on your shoulder, we would have worked better together,” he retorted. You gestured to yourself, in your blue hospital gown, and IV tubing.

“I’m pretty sure the wound is right here,” you gestured to the dressing on your side, “if you’re like to really get a few good kicks in while I’m down.”

He stood up and flipped his chair over before walking to the far wall and slamming his fist against it. “What the hell did I do? Why do you hate me?” You flinched away from his angry tone.

“I don’t, I don’t hate you, Cap, I just -”

“Bullshit,” he interrupted.

“Now who has a foul mouth?” You snapped. “I don’t hate you, Cap. I don’t. I just don’t know how to act around you and it makes me guarded and defensive, I guess.” You took another small sip of water.

“Because I’m somehow your enemy?” He asked. You could feel your cheeks heating in embarrassment and glanced up at the IV bag. It was pain medication. Go for it, you thought, at least you had plausible deniability due to the intoxicating effects of the medication.

“It’s just that you’re so cute, and you’re kind, and you’re so genuine, and you smell good and -”

“What did you just say?” He interrupted, pulling the chair back to the beside and sitting in it. He took your hand between his and looked at you intently. You’d said too much and felt the panic of admitting all of that hit you as he stared at you.

“Uh, I said you look like a boot and I’m pretty sure you’re out of your mind, and you smell like swine and -”

“That’s not what you said,” he laughed and squeezed your hand.

“I’m pretty sure I did,” you averted your gaze from his. He cupped your cheek in one of his hands and turned you back to face him. “I like you too.”

“Oh.”

“Get some rest. I’m going to get a shower so I stop smelling like swine, and I’ll be back.”

“Okay,” you nodded. He tucked your hand under the cover, smoothed your hair away and dropped a kiss on your forehead.

Things I did while on social media hiatus:

Listened to a 17-hour audiobook on the Cambrian period (Cambrian Ocean World, very dry and a little poorly structured but if you like trilobites, bizarre beasts, and rocks you will have fun)

Watched three new horror movies! Phase IV, a 1974 horror movie about sentient ants, Body Bags, a John Carpenter horror anthology featuring such chaos as Mark Hamill the baseball player and an evil treatment for hair loss, and Final Prayer, a marvelous found footage horror movie that got screwed over by its awful title with an ending that gave me nightmares

Listened to another audiobook, Empire of Ants, immensely readable and a manageable 8 hours long, made me feel deeply passionate about ants

Posted four fics, wrote another as-yet-unposted, worked on original horror fiction

So much offline stuff to include going to a concert, doing volunteer work, hanging with friends in physical space, and having professional development (and when the hell did I become someone who has actual professional development???)

Got another castle in wizard101 and got absolutely roasted by multiple people for it because I said I was done buying more castles after the last one

Reread a couple old and beloved fiction books that I haven’t touched in a while and came to some revelations about why I have so much trouble with fiction these days: I keep trying to read things that are outside of my preferred genre because social media tells me I’m supposed to, and trying to read things that have a style that bores me to tears because a lot of current books are forced by large publishers into styles that fit what’s saleable, not what’s good

Took an unbelievable number of pictures of lichen and moss, my camera roll is packed

Most importantly: Improved my mental health by leaps and bounds because it turns out that tumblr is an absolute NIGHTMARE that encourages doomscrolling even if you’re careful to curate your dash and block tags! Everything above is stuff I’d have done even if I was logged in on tumblr, but hot DAMN did I ever have more fun without social media in the back of my head. I was present in the moment.

I’m going to throw a bunch of stuff on my corkboard and queue up some fun stuff then I’m leaving again because I logged in to reblog things people sent me and IMMEDIATELY got upset by a chain of doom-laden posts. Going to be posting a series of horror movie recs because I do miss ranting about movies online, but I am NOT staying on. It’s absurd how much better I felt without social media—and how much I absolutely did not miss it, except for the desire to share amazing art and yell about good movies.

Highly recommend taking a big break from social media. You can get your news other places. Go discover other places on the internet. Go touch grass. Do something other than doomscroll. It feels good.

hey jude! did you take any creative writing classes before you started to write RN? Do you have any recommendation of possible things you did to improve your writing enough to give you the courage to start writing the story that was in your head for 10 years?

Hey anon! I’m gonna write you a big, long thing because i fucking love talking about writing. Ready? Okay!

Without getting too specific, i do edit/write for my day job, so i’ve taken many a writing course throughout my education/life which helped me with the basics, but it’s been quite some time since ive taken any formal classes. As far as creative writing, that was always my hobby. Sitting down and writing RN after a damn decade was less about feeling like i had improved enough to get it out and more of a mental health thing. My anxiety said “god, just write it already, it’ll help” and then the pandemic said “god, just share it, not many people will read it and you’ll feel better” and here we are.

What’s helped me improve since and kept me going:

Writing more. I’m no longer holding myself back from writing down any and every idea that comes to mind, whether it be for fanfic or original writing. None of these ideas even have to go anywhere, i’ve just allowed myself to enjoy the act of writing and it’s helped me immensely. Sometimes I revisit these little pieces and read them again for fun, or add a bit more, or go incorporate them into something larger I’m working on. Not all writing has to be productive! But I firmly believe it does help you grow the more you do it. 

Challenging myself. I’ll stress that when i say this, i mean i am challenging myself in a fun way, not in a “let’s make this as frustrating as possible” way. Experimenting with story length is one thing I love as a writer. Drabbles and ficlets are wonderful ways to work on specific skills, because you are so limited by the word count. This type of quick-bite writing forced me to remove dialogue tags i’d normally use, delete most adverbs, get rid of unnecessary qualifiers like “very” and “just” to save space for the actual story. 

Genre experimentation. I recently wrote my first horror fic and i’m quite proud of it. It made me realize how much i enjoyed writing in that arena and might be something i look to do for original work. It forced me to take familiar characters i was so used to writing one way and draw out different facets of their personalities to make sense for a darker plot. If you are ever at all tempted to try a different story genre, just go for it. I learned a lot about my own craft while doing this. 

Read more. I’m sure you’ve seen this a lot as far as writing advice goes, but i promise it’s true. To use my horror example again, I was reading a novel where wings burst out of a character’s back and it was a real mindfuck moment as a reader and then my mind just spiraled with inspiration for my own stuff from there. You might come across a phrase or a style of prose that grabs you by the throat and then holds your brain hostage. There are so many ways to tell the same story, and reading more will expose you to all these differences. It lets you find out what’s not for you (ex. writing from a ton of different povs in one story is not for me) and what you’d want to try out for yourself (ex. Im itching to eventually write a first-person pov).

Another recommendation if we’re talking about longer form stories (and i feel like i give this advice a lot): find out what kind of outliner you are. I LOVE the outline process. It’s my chance to word-vomit all over a fresh word doc any and every idea that comes to mind for the plot, the characters, scenes, dialogue snippets, etc. I love to bullet point scenes, sketch out some important character moments. None of this involves finesse, or craft, it’s all the ideas phase and it’s when I feel my most creative. Once i’ve got a story fully outlined, I go back and actually write out all these scenes (not necessarily in order, i’m not one who needs to write chronologically). Other writers I know just start from their first sentence and go from there, not allowing themselves to jump ahead. Find out which way works for you, because you’re the one who will need to read all of it over and spend so much time with it. Outlining makes me EXCITED about stories and helps pump me up to write and share them.

Talking with other writers. It was hard when I first posted RN and didnt know anyone in the community. But by putting myself out there it led to conversations and friendships with other writers. It’s a resource i’m incredibly grateful for, to have people just as nerdy as i am about writing, trading tips or asking for advice/encouragement or just to double-check im not insane and actually did use the word “belie” correctly. It can be intimidating, but if you havent already and are comfortable, check out some online writing groups/discords. 

Don’t feel like you have to follow every “writing rule.” It’s so easy to get bogged down in “you’re supposed to write THIS way” and you find yourself looking at a paragraph of soulless words that while technically correct, don’t say very much at all. I personally find it intimidating to try and improve all the things at once and it makes me hate the process. I’ve found concentrating on one aspect for improvement makes me feel like im growing without overwhelming myself. For example, i made a conscious effort in a recent story to not rely on adverbs so much, and when a reader noticed this in a comment, I was fucking elated. 

Okay and now to get a little pollyanna for a second. It does take courage to share your work on a public platform and open it up for public consumption/opinion. Your writing won’t be for everyone, but it is yours. You will spend the most time with it (in your head and on paper/screen) so it helps if you like it. What really matters, i promise, is that you like your own writing. 

I hope you found this helpful and good luck with your writing! My ask box is always open 💕💕

JointEternal Supplements - Health

A Lifesaver for My Aching Joints: A Review of Promote Joint Eternal

I used to be an avid gardener. Kneeling down to tend to my flowerbeds and digging in the vegetable patch brought me immense joy. However, in recent years, my knees began to protest. A dull ache settled in, worsening with any activity that put strain on them. Climbing the stairs became a chore, and even walking for extended periods felt like a marathon.

Seeking Relief and Discovering Promote Joint Eternal

Frustrated with the limitations my achy knees imposed, I embarked on a quest to find relief. I tried various over-the-counter pain medications, but the effects were temporary and didn't address the underlying issue. A friend, noticing my struggle, recommended Promote Joint Eternal. Initially sceptical, I decided to give it a go. The website assured it was a natural supplement with a good reputation, so I ordered a bottle.

A Noticeable Difference Within Weeks

I started taking Promote Joint Eternal as directed, two capsules daily. Honestly, I wasn't expecting miracles. However, within a couple of weeks, I began to notice a change. The persistent ache in my knees gradually subsided. Stiffness, particularly in the mornings, became less of a problem. I could finally climb the stairs without wincing, and even walking for longer distances felt manageable.

Improved Mobility and Renewed Confidence

The improvement in my knee health was a game-changer. My love for gardening rekindled, and I found myself back on my knees, tending to my plants with newfound enthusiasm. Promote Joint Eternal not only eased the pain but also increased my flexibility. Squatting down to pull weeds or reach for low-hanging flowers became much easier. This newfound mobility gave me a much-needed confidence boost, allowing me to engage in activities I once avoided.

Natural Ingredients and Long-Term Benefits

One of the aspects I appreciate most about Promote Joint Eternal is its focus on natural ingredients. Unlike some pain medications, it doesn't have any harsh side effects. The website provides detailed information about the ingredients, including glucosamine, chondroitin, and turmeric, which are all known to support joint health.

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If you're struggling with joint pain, I wholeheartedly recommend giving Promote Joint Eternal a try. It's been a lifesaver for me, allowing me to return to the activities I love. With its natural formula and noticeable results, it's a product worth considering if you're seeking a long-term solution for improved joint health and mobility. Remember, everyone's body is different, but for me, Promote Joint Eternal has been a game-changer.

HOW TAKING TO ART GAVE ME MENTAL PEACE AND CHANGED MY LIFE!

Living and working in a metro like Mumbai can be quite hectic – yes, that is an understatement and those of you who live and work here would immediately guess that! Rising early, rushing to the railway station to ‘catch’ the ubiquitous ‘local’ train, commuting in a crowded compartment, struggling to get out at the destination station, walking-cum-running though the crowded streets to make the ‘muster’, and then work, work and more work at a fast pace till late hours in the evening, and, finally of course, the entire morning routine of a journey back in the reverse….doing this six days a week and then simply catching up on the lost sleep on the Sunday weekly off – it was an automaton’s life that I was living to make both ends meet and this was really getting to me day after day, month after month, year after year……

….until I found my solace in art, and that too, quite accidentally! It was on my journey back home in the evening that I came across this art-form of Mandala while browsing the internet on my mobile. I decided to try it out on reaching home – since it required minimal equipment – just a pen and a paper would do – and I was hooked! And yes, it changed my life – well, my outlook towards life – instead of being the automaton that I had become, I transformed into a bundle of excitement and energy – leaving for work happily, knowing that I would return in the evening to my pastime of Mandala, working diligently through the day to ensure I got to leave the workplace in time, rushing back home in anticipation, and then indulging in my ‘raison-de-etre’ – art! Most importantly, I was immensely happy and completely at peace with the world, and myself!

There is a growing scientific evidence proving that art improves brain function. It has an effect on the brain and emotional patterns, the nervous system, and can actually increase serotonin levels. Art can change a person’s perception and the way he or she connects to the world! It is a great way to express emotions, deal with complex emotions, and seek relief without words.

You do not have to see a therapist to experience some of the therapeutic benefits of art. There are many simple activities which you can try in the comfort of your home such as art printing, painting, collage, pottery, etc. It doesn't matter which medium you choose. The only important thing is that it should be comfortable to use.

Creating art will give you the opportunity to slow down and explore any obstacles you may have. Art therapy is known to improve the mental health of people suffering from addiction, anxiety, attention deficits, grief and loss, dementia, depression, eating disorders, physical illness, trauma, relationship issues, and much more.

Finally, we should not focus on the final product but the procedure we go through for reaching that point and the motivation we receive. It is all about communication and how it motivates you. All that is needed is the willingness to attempt it.

Penkraft conducts classes, courses, onlinecourses, workshops, teachers' trainings & online teachers' trainings in Handwriting Improvement , Calligraphy, Abacus Maths, Vedic Maths, Phonics and various Craft & Art forms - Madhubani, Mandala, Warli, Gond, Lippan Art, Kalighat, Kalamkari, One Stroke Painting, Decoupage, Image Transfer, Resin Art, Fluid Art, Alcohol Ink Art, Truck Art, Knife Painting, etc. at pan-India locations. With our mission to inspire, educate, empower & uplift people through our endeavours, we have trained & operationally supported (and continue to support) 1500+ home-makers to become Penkraft Certified Teachers® in various disciplines.

hcs series detailing what it is like to be a manager for the various haikyuu teams

karasuno | seijoh |

warnings - swearing

word count - 2.1k

you weren't immune to oikawa's charms, but being friends with him since middle school meant you were the least likely in the school to fall for him (you were also the least likely person he would mess with in that way, especially as iwaizumi would happily punch him for the trouble)

this meant you were a perfect candidate for manager of the team

when you all been first years, the team had come up to you and begged

ultimately, it had been iwaizumi who had finally convinced you (the sight of him almost begging you would be forever ingrained in your mind. boy did not want to be the only one responsible for oikawa)

by the time you reached your third year, you were immensely glad that you had agreed to manage the team

at times, it had been tough. dealing with oikawa's jealous fangirls often felt like a full time job. the amount of times you had sprinted into the club room to the shock of the team was ridiculous

one day, you had dived through the door, yelling for then to shut and lock the door as you crashed to the floor

iwaizumi had been by your side in an instant, worried gaze assessing you for injuries. when you let out a wince, rubbing at you arm, he was automatically assessing it for damage

"it's not broken," he assured you, giving your head an affection pat before his gaze turned to oikawa, eyes narrowing. "call your fucking fangirls off, shittykawa"

"i've tried," he whined, giving you an apologetic look. "clearly their love for me is too strong"

"maybe if they actually spoke to you, they'd realise what a crap personality you have," sighed matsukawa, slapping oikawa on the back affectionately and then holding the hand up to receive a high five from hanamaki

slowly, hesitantly, you moved over to the door, pressing your ear to the surface. through the wood, you could the girls, their high-pitched voices grating at your nerves

“i really fucking hate them,” you grumbled, moving away to sit on the floor beside hanamaki, who wrapped an arm around your shoulder as you leaned against his shoulder. “why did i let you convince me to join this club?”

this was directed to iwaizumi, who had the good idea to look sheepish. oikawa, on the other hand, collapsed down on the floor in front of you and spread out his arms. “because you love us, y/n-chan”

“not you,” you scoffed, poking him in the chest. he pouted

“that’s no way to talk to your childhood friend”

“it is when they have a swarm of jealous fangirls after you”

oikawa looked like he was about to reply, but a clip to the ear by iwaizumi was enough to distract him. he turned to his friend with a cry of outrage, beginning to bicker with the ace

while you would usually tell them to shut up, pull them apart, you couldn’t really be bothered. breaking up fights was for when you were on duty. training hadn’t started yet so you figured you could let them bicker

the second years clashed less than the third years but sometimes you were needed to break up the fights, particularly when kyoutani made a return to the team

while he was away, you had been one of the only ones who checked up on him, always telling him that if he needed to talk, if he was struggling with anything, you would be there

therefore, he had a lot of respect for you, placing you on a similar level to iwaizumi (the only member of the team who could get away with telling him what to do or scolding him angrily)

this meant that, when you appeared in front of him, placing a placating hand on his chest, his hackles would lower and he would back away, though the glare would remain on his face

truth be told, kyoutani was a little bit scared of you suddenly exploding on him, especially after the way you had snapped at him when he had first pulled off a risky play in practice

you had seen red when he had pushed kindaichi out of the way to spike the ball, marching over and grabbing him by the top to drag him away. it was the first time they had ever seen him apologise

while kyoutani respected you, the relationship you had with him was very different with the one you had with the other second years. kyoutani would never invite you to lunch. watari and yahaba on the other hand...

your week is not complete without a lunch with them. you aren’t even sure when you managed to form such a strong friendship with them, but it was likely when you agreed to help them in maths (it’s not yahaba’s strong point and he begged watari to join him)

you are the one responsible for stopping yahaba showing off, particularly when the gym floods with fangirls, most of them there to watch oikawa

he will flip his hair and affect an air very similar to oikawa which will frustrate you to no end. you will drag him off court by the ear, telling him to stop, threatening him with extra conditioning

matsukawa and hanamaki will definitely start snickering at the way his face reddens, focused more on this than the fact that they are meant to be improving their serves

you can always trust watari to help you out, no matter how much you insist that you don’t need it. he is the first to volunteer to help you set up the court, to help you carry the equipment for away games

now, the first years. if iwaizumi is the team dad, you are the mum

you dote on kindaichi and kunimi, trying to keep them away from matsukawa’s and hanamaki’s influence. you don’t want them to be corrupted by the pair. iwaizumi will help you but even he sees little point in stopping the inevitable

kindaichi was very awkward around you at the start. his brain couldn’t comprehend that a pretty girl was talking to him, let alone asking if he was okay, if he needed a drink

eventually, kindaichi relaxes. you are the one he turns to when he has a problem, explaining it all to you. if it involves another team member, you will encourage him to tell them, not wanting there to be fractures in the team. after all, aoba johsai thrives because of their great teamwork

kunimi is, as usual, very relaxed around you

most of the time, he barely acknowledges your fussing, simply waving you away and heading back onto the court to resume practice

however, if he wants to slack off (which he does often), it will be you he makes eye contact with. you know you shouldn’t condone this behaviour but, occasionally, you allow it. he promises he will pull through for the game and you believe him, though you do explain that if he slacks off too much it could mean risking his sport in the starting rotation

your quiet understanding is often what motivates him to keep going. he doesn’t want to disappoint you. plus, he has seen you angry and would rather not be the reason for that

oikawa is intimately familiar with your anger. the boy just seems to do everything possible to piss you off. what angers you most is the apparent disregard for his own health, but you don't take this out on him physically

you and iwaizumi team up to handle him, with both of you favouring a more violent approach (sometimes that's the only way to knock some sense into oikawa's brain)

while iwaizumi will throw either oikawa or various items such as volleyballs at him, you tend to favour a good old-fashioned slap to the back of the head

he always knows you're coming, his whole body tensing at the sound of your footsteps drawing closer to him. oikawa is almost more scared of you than iwaizumi, probably because you are more cold fury than fiery anger

that first night iwaizumi had asked you to stay behind after practice with him, your heart almost broke at the sight of oikawa pushing himself

you saw the sweat, watched him stumble, clutch at his damaged knee... but despite the pain, he kept pushing

as you watched, you grasped iwaizumi's hand, who was tense beside you, needing the physical anchor as much as you

"why does he do this to himself?" you questioned, watching as oikawa pushed up from the floor, landing awkwardly on his feet. still, he kept pushing

iwaizumi didn't bother to answer. the answer was obvious, and you both knew what it was. he needed to get better, for the team, for himself, for revenge

"if he keeps going like that, his knee will be permanently damaged and he can say goodbye to a volleyball career," said iwaizumi, jaw tight. hand still in yours, he marched onto the court

he finally released your hand to grab oikawa by the shirt and yank him away. his voice was a low growl as he spoke, "don't fucking complain. we've been here long enough and you're going home before you regret it"

"you're so... urgh, do you want to make me lose my mind with worry, tooru?" you sigh, wrapping an arm around his waist, more to reassure yourself that he was fine than to other support. he slung an arm over your shoulder, leaning on you slightly with iwaizumi at his other side

"didn't think you cared, y/n-chan," he teased, giving you an affectionate squeeze. you caught eyes with iwaizumi, rolling your own at oikawa's words

"of course i care. we both do"

from that night on, you and iwaizumi took turns watching oikawa, stopping him when it became clear that he was doing too much

on the nights when you had to watch him, you would sit in the corner of the gym on a video chat with matsukawa and hanamaki as you tried to do some homework (to be honest, you spent most of your time joking around and chatting, but the thought was there)

oikawa, though he never showed it, was grateful for you and iwaizumi's worry. it put a check on him which he would never admit to wanting, but needed desperately

on weekends, you and the third years will always meet up, be it to do homework or just watch a movie at someone's house

movie nights tend to be quite messy (it's not uncommon to be picking popcorn out of your hair at the end)

one time, you had fallen asleep on iwaizumi's shoulder only to wake up to his head flopped against yours and a snickering oikawa and hanamaki. the pair had taken great joy in drawing a moustache and beard on your faces, while matsukawa took photos (he's usually the one who takes your group photos and sends them to everyone at the end)

managing the team is mainly fun, though it does have its cursed moments

you weren't ashamed to admit that you cried, along with the rest of the third years, when you left

however, the tears did not stop you from giving your kouhais some strongly-worded advice

yahaba was warned to not think with his dick and to try his very best to not intimidate oikawa in his quest for some fangirls

kyoutani was told that you were only a phone call away and would not hesitate to scold him if he let his anger take control over his playing style

honestly, the only thing you wished watari was luck. he'd need it, especially as there was no manager to support them next year

kunimi you told to slack off less, though you wouldn't hold it against him if he did sneak off for a little nap during the school day so long as he was energised for volleyball

with kindaichi, you simply gave him a hug and told him to keep trying his best, to not beat himself up over every mistake he made

it was oikawa who insisted on a big group hug, pulling you and a rather disgruntled iwaizumi into his arms, the rest of the team happily bundling in

and, as you hugged each other, you were thankful iwaizumi had convinced you to join the team because you knew you had made friends for life

I’m Looking Forward Now 💖Thank you and good bye

So, it’s been a little over a week since Steven Universe Future ended… 

I’ve been hesitant to write this, honestly, but I’m tired of holding myself back from properly expressing myself in fear of appearing overly invested in the media I consume, even in private. Writing helps me organize my thoughts and feelings, and I feel like these thoughts in particular may resonate with many, so I want to share them. I want to talk about what Steven Universe has done for me personally, both as an artist, and as a person.

I’ve been around since the day the first episode of the original series aired. I actually remember when Steven Universe was just a logo on Wikipedia’s “List of Upcoming Cartoon Network Shows” list, back when I was a freshman in high school. It piqued my interest, but when commercials finally dropped for it, I thought it was going to be bad because of the way marketing handled introducing Steven as a likeable character. There was still something about it that made me want to give it a chance though, so I went online and watched the pilot before the first episode's release. I was hooked immediately. I knew I was going to love it, and I did. I fell so absolutely in love with Steven as a character, and the world that he and the gems lived in. I became obsessed. I was always so excited for new episodes to come out. Little did I know what else it would do for me as I went through my adolescence alongside it.

As the show progressed, it was evident that what I wanted out of a western animated childrens’ cartoon was finally coming into fruition: this show was becoming serialized. There was continuity, there was plot, there was character development-- it was getting deep. It was pushing the groundwork that Adventure Time laid out even further (thank you, Adventure Time).  

I will give credit where credit is due: earlier western childrens’ cartoons I grew up with like Hey Arnold, and Rugrats, among others, also touched on heavy topics, but Steven Universe was able to take similar ideas (and even more complex ones, concerning mental health and relationships) and expand on them outside of contained episodes and/or short arcs. These themes, which were a part of the show’s overarching story, spanned across its entirety. Continuity was rampant. 

What did this mean? It meant kids cartoons didn’t have to be silly and fun all the time and characters weren’t just actors playing a part in 11-minute skits. Steven and the gems would remember things that happened to them, and it affected them and how they would function and play a part in their story. This was a huge deal to me as a teenager. I always wanted the cartoons I grew up with featuring kid characters to feel more. In my own work, I often felt discouraged when combining a fun, cutesy western art style with themes as dark or layered as anime would cover. I always thought it had to be one or the other because an audience wouldn’t take a combination of the two seriously enough, based on discussions I had with classmates, friends, and online analysis I read at the time. Steven Universe proved to me otherwise. This show was opening the door for future cartoons exploring in-depth, adult concepts. I felt so seen as a kid, and was inspired to stick with what I love doing.

I was actually very worried about the show’s survival. It was in fact immensely underrated and the fandom was miniscule. Then in 2014, JailBreak dropped, and it’s popularity exploded. Part of it was because of the complex plot and the themes it was covering like I mentioned, but also because of its representation. 

I remember when fandom theorized that Garnet was a fusion due to grand, tragic reasons. Turns out, she’s simply a metaphor for a very loving w|w relationship. This was huge. I cannot stress how important it is that we continue to normalize healthy canon queer relationships in childens’ media, and Steven Universe finally was the first to do that proper. Introducing these themes offers the chance for a kid to sit there and ask themselves, “Why is this demonized by so many people?” I asked myself exactly that. Ruby and Sapphire were my cartoon LGBT rep. They were the first LGBT couple I ever ecstatically drew fanart of. I was dealing with a lot of internalized homophobia at the time, and they showed me that I was allowed to love women and feel normal about it. The process of overcoming this was a long one, but they played a part in my very first steps into becoming comfortable with my sexuality. I could go on and on about it’s representation in general-- how it breaks the mold when it comes to showcasing a diverse set of characters in design, in casting, and in breaking gender roles. It’s focus on love and empathy. Steven himself is a big boy, but he's the protagonist, and the show never once makes fun of his weight, or any other bigger characters for that matter. It wasn’t hard to see why the fandom had grown so large.

Fandom was always a joy for me. It was a hobby I picked up when I was in middle school, like many of us here did. I would always cater my experience to fun, and fun only. I only started getting more deeply involved in SU’s fandom when I had just turned into an adult. During the summer of 2016, between my first and second year of college, I drew for the show almost every day non-stop when the Summer of Steven event was going on and posted them online. This was a form of practice for me in order to become not just more comfortable with experimenting with my art, but also to meet new artists, make new friends, and learn to interact with strangers without fear. I dealt with a ton of anxiety when I was in high school. When I was a senior applying to art school for animation, I decided I was going to overcome that anxiety. I made plans to take baby steps to improve myself over the course of my 4 years of college. Joining the fandom, while unforeseen, was definitely a part of that process. I started feeling more confident in sharing my ideas, even if they were fan-made. I fell in love with storyboarding after that summer, when I took my first storyboarding class, and genuinely felt like I was actually getting somewhere with all of this. I remember finally coming to a point in my classes where I could pitch and not feel hopelessly insecure about it. I was opening up more to my friends and peers. 

But this process, unfortunately, came to a screeching halt. 

My life completely, utterly crumbled under me in the Fall of 2017 due to a series of blows in my personal life that happened in the span of just a couple weeks. My mental health and sense of identity were completely destroyed. All of that confidence I had worked for-- completely ruined. I was alone. I nearly died. My stay at college was extended to 4 and half years, instead of the 4 I had intended. I lost my love for animation-- making it, and watching it. I could no longer watch Steven Universe with the same love I had for it beforehand. It’s a terrible thing, trying to give your attention to something you don’t love anymore, and wanting so desperately to love again. I dropped so many things I loved in my life, including the fandom.

Healing was a long and complicated road. I continued to watch the show all the way up until Change Your Mind aired in the beginning of 2019, and while I still felt empty, that was definitely a turning point for me with it’s encapsulation of self-love. I was hoping James Baxter would get to work on Steven Universe since he guest-animated on Adventure Time, and it was incredible seeing that wish actually come true. The movie came out and while I enjoyed it and thought highly of it, I was still having issues letting myself genuinely love things again, old and new. It was especially difficult because cartoons were my solace as a kid, when things got rough at home. I remember feeling sad because the show ended, and not getting the chance to love it again like I used to while it was still going.

By the time Steven Universe Future was announced, I was finally coming around. I was genuinely starting to feel excitement for art and animation again. I wasn’t expecting there to be a whole new epilogue series, but happily ever after, there we were! Prickly Pear aired, and the implications it left in terms of where the story was going did it. I was finally ready to let myself take the dive back into fandom in January of this year. My art blew up, something I wasn’t expecting considering my 2-year hiatus. Following this, I was invited into a discord server containing some of the biggest writers, artists, editors, and analysts in the fandom. I had no idea there were so many talented people in the fandom, some already with degrees, some getting their degrees-- creating stuff for it on the side just for fun. The amount of passion and productivity level here is insane, and so is the amount of discussion that has come out of it.

I didn’t realize it at first, but it was actually helping me gain back the courage to share ideas. I lost my confidence in pitching while I was taking the time to heal, and graduating meant there would no longer be a classroom setting I could practice in. This group helped immensely. 

I have made so many friends through this wonderful series, and I have so many fond memories talking to like-minded creatives, getting feedback and a myriad of sources for inspiration, as well as all of the memes and jokes and weekly theorizations that came about as we all waited on the edges of our seats for episodes to air. I needed this so badly, I needed to get back in touch with my roots, when I would go absolutely hog-wild over a cartoon I loved with people who loved it as much I did. Future has been a blessing for me in this way. I graduated feeling like I was back at square-one, but now I feel like I’m on my way again.

It’s 2020 and while I’m doing great right now, I am honestly still recovering from the total exhaustion that followed after graduating a few months ago, and finally leaving the campus where my life fell apart behind. Needless to say, watching Future was like looking into a mirror. Watching one of my favorite characters of all time-- one that grew up with me-- go through so many of the same things I went through not too long ago was absolutely insane to watch unfold. It’s such an important thing too, to show a character go through the process of breaking down over trauma and all the nasty things that come with it, and to have them go on the road to healing. Steven got that therapy. He wasn’t blamed. The gems were called out. The finale was everything I could have ever hoped for. The catharsis I experienced watching it was out of this world.

As I continue my own healing journey, I will always look up to the storyboard artists, revisionists, and designers that I have been following over these past 7 years, as well as the new ones introduced in Future. It's been such a joy watching these artists release their promo art for episodes, talk about their experiences working on the show, and post the work they've done for it alongside episodes airing.

Thank you Rebecca Sugar, the Crewniverse, and the fans, for making this such a truly wonderful and unique experience. Thank you for reminding me that I am, and always will be, an artist, a cartoonist, and a fan. Thank you, my followers, for the overwhelmingly positive response to my artwork. I have had so much fun interacting and discussing the show with you all again over these past few months. Steven Universe and it’s fandom will always have a special place in my heart, and it will always be a classic that I will return to for comfort and inspiration for decades to come. I am sad that the cartoon renaissance is over, but so many doors have been opened thanks to this show. I am so, so excited to see what this show will inspire in the future, and I hope one day I get the opportunity to be a part of that. 

Goodbye Steven, thank you for everything. I wish you healing, and I wish Rebecca and the team a well-deserved rest. ♥️

-Cynthia D.

OPM Webcomic Chapter 141 Review

Intro

Normally I like to take a couple of days and a few rereads to see how I feel about a chapter before reviewing it, but with ONE’s unpredictable schedule, I’d best do this now.  It’s longish.

The first thing to say is that this chapter really messed me up.

The cavalry has a stone in its shoe

The first thing that fucked me up was realising what the sound effect in the first two panels of the chapter was: the sound of the doctor’s increasingly agonised breathing.  What a horrible thing to have to hear, made worse by the three Machine Gods showing up and reporting that their latest kill would have a 0% chance of survival after 5 minutes.

If you thought then that this chapter would be about a by-the-skin-of-the-teeth save, you’re sadly mistaken.  Genos was awesome.  He spared no power (nor powers for that matter) in fighting the three dragon-level machines simultaneously, aiming to kill them as quickly as he could and get that time.

ONE’s grasp on choreography has improved immensely and he’s used it fantastically here.  He’s always been versatile, but this time, Genos was plasticity itself, wielding heat, freezing, magnetism, anti-gravity, electricity and much more.  In turn, they didn’t commit the mistake of trying to attack one at a time, analysing his moves as they went and attacking in unpredictable formation.

it might not be psychic power, but being able to move and warp anything magnetic is a damn useful substitute

Machine Gods may vary in form, but they do share a basic interest, which is in understanding heroes, and a basic personality, which is a snarky wit that’s quick to mock. Machine God Tech lobs a back-handed compliment to Genos, saying that if he’d mastered these variable abilities, he’d have been able to aim for the top of the hero world.  For their confidence, Tech and Ray end up dead in pretty short order, smashed to pieces, leaving an outraged Machine God Body howling about how it simply couldn’t be that a mere ex-human cyborg could outdo them, these magnificent AIs.  He takes up the components of the other two to strengthen himself further, but  he’s dead soon, smashed to bits by an appropriately named Final Smash.

Genos hurries to the doctor, but there’s no let up.  Seven more high-powered robots appear. Thankfully so does Saitama, still in his underwear. He takes on the five approaching from the front, leaving the last two to Genos.  Saitama casually walking through the assault, not even bothering to shape a punch has to be one of the scene-stealers of the chapter and one of the very few light moments in it.

And then it’s over.  Saitama picks the doctor up to try ferrying him to hospital, but the doctor refuses, preferring to tell Genos where to find a secret, final upgrade, to use it to run away from Them (looks like the doctor knows exactly who killed him) and to beg forgiveness.

what a way for a beautiful relationship to end

Genos doesn’t say anything. Nor does he hurry after Saitama, but after the latter has left, he bows deeply in gratitude and says that there’s nothing to forgive, for the old man did nothing wrong in his eyes.

The action recommences at dawn.  For the avoidance of all hope, we see that Saitama has buried the doctor in the forest with a chunck of the lab wall as a headstone and the shovel still stuck in the earth by the grave.  Genos comes out of the repair pod with a new body and the two of them take their leave.  Genos intends to take out Metal Knight immediately, before whatever the plan for a ‘general offensive’ is executed.  Saitama agrees to accompany him.  But as they walk along, there’s a light over the nearest city.  It seems ‘The Plan’ Machine God Tech talked about has begun.

Indeed, on the ground, there’s carnage as a formation of robots marches through, burning every building they pass and shooting down anything that moves.  Various heroes look on in numb horror as the army advances. 

That’s where this monster of a chapter ends.

never ones to half-ass things

Meta

Unsurprising Surprise

The Organization strikes at last.  Our longest-running villains finally show their hand. They’ve measured, they’ve planned, they’ve done their homework, made that list and checked it twice.  Fitting in with Metal Knight’s warning about a shadowy power waiting its time (in the manga, not the webcomic), they’ve struck right when the heroes are at their weakest.  We don’t know the extent  of it. Is City W the only place being scrubbed off the map, or is this part of a much more widespread trend?

Well, now we really do know that when Genos spoke of not only acting for himself when he introduced himself to Saitama, he was just telling the truth.  He might be looking for vengeance, but his scope was always much bigger than just himself.  It’s a shame things have had to deteriorate to this extent for us to see it.

If not now, when?

So this is it! This is as good as it gets for him then. If he is to survive, Genos will have to take a page from Drive Knight’s example and quickly master everything his new body has to offer.  We’ve (well I’ve) complained before that he’s merely competent at using what the doctor gives him, throwing parts and bodies away without giving himself a chance to truly get the best out of them.  No choice now.  And it looks like there’s a world to save -- no time to luxuriate in practice. Or grief.

Forgive me

A few years ago when I was still new to Reddit, one of my first posts was to ask if Dr Kuseno was a good man. Against his manifest good deeds in supporting Genos as he did, it didn’t sit well with me that he’d performed a Reverse Pinocchio on an ordinary boy, turning him into a living weapon.  Not hard to imagine that it wasn’t received too well by the sub, lol.  In time, as we got to see more of Kuseno, my position on him softened, but what the hell, doctor?  never went completely away.

With Kuseno’s dying words being apology, we see that he knew he’d done wrong by Genos.  He knew that roping him into his quest for justice came as much from his own selfishness and rage as it did from a desire to set the world to rights.  I’ve repeatedly said that the cyborg body Genos has has nothing to do with health. It was all about gaining the power to fight and forgoing a chance to have a life in the process.

And so Kuseno died, in agony, weeping and begging for a forgiveness that he never heard come.  He was buried like a dog in what had been his backyard. By a stranger.

Fuck.

That’s cold.

Now I’m not faulting Genos for not forgiving the old man to his hearing. But there’s a hardness to him that he’ll want watching lest it grow more.

this is why the Machine Gods always fail despite their detailed calculations.  They just do not understand the depth of the human heart, nor its importance.

But I’ll add one more thing.  Dr Kuseno did not just raise a warrior.  In the end, he raised a damn fine hero too.  In the end, I really hope that some great good might yet come out of this.

Saitama and compassion

I’m glad that Saitama is here.  I’m even more glad that he’s not been acting to try stealing the show, instead supporting Genos when the latter needs it. It’s not ‘I’m sorry for your loss’ But it is compassionate. 

What’s next?

Why fighting of course.  Lots of it. I hope that somehow, the fog of war ends up nevertheless clarifying the relationship between the Neo Heroes, The Organization, Metal Knight and possibly Drive Knight.  I’m ready for this arc to build to its crisis and resolve one way or the other.

Bits and pieces

Number 23 on the list?  If Kuseno weren’t keeping such a low profile, I’d be insulted on his behalf.

I surmised last chapter that Kuseno must have an extensive basement as the superstructure of his place looked positively humble.  West basement?  With multiple hangars?  That’s not a basement, that’s an underground castle.  I hope Genos has locked up after himself.  If he succeeds in putting sword to his enemies, he’ll want what’s in there.

Finally, with the way living and dying works in this world, I wonder if the old man might yet have survived if he’d not decided it was too late for him.  I guess we’ll never know. At least I hope not.  I hope he’s beyond the clutches of those who’d raise him to an undeath for their own purposes.

Just A Dream Away

Chapter 1/13 read here on ao3!

my piece for @harringrovebigbang!

Art and moodboard from my amazing team, @monochromegee and @shewritesdirty respectively, to come soon!

~~~~

Six months. Six months and twelve days.

That’s how long Billy has been in the hospital. In a coma. His health rapidly deteriorating.

After one month it was required he be put on a ventilator. Two and his wounds started getting infected. By month three, the hospital asked that a representative be chosen for him, just in case he didn’t pull through.

Neil Hargrove refused. Barked into the receiver something along the lines of, “What do I care if the boy wanted to go and get himself killed?” It was entirely defensive, his voice cracking as he finished his sentence, but the hospital still never contacted him again, not for updates or bills or anything. His wife was far too busy taking care of one grieving child and a lazy husband already to worry about an additional burden.

All of Billy’s extended family was still in California, had written him off years before they’d even left home for Indiana anyways. The moment his mother walked out the door, nobody else wanted him either, so they were off the table too.

The town of Hawkins had been turned inside out by the deaths of more than thirty community members, some of which were still being reported as missing so many months later. Nobody had the time, or in many cases the heart, to take care of the lone survivor.

That left only one person. The one who’d been taking care of him even before he’d fallen into a coma. The one who’d understood him better than anyone else, who’d given him a chance, who’d loved him more than anything.

Steve gets a call from the hospital, the way he is usually woken up these days. Every other morning, as soon as visitation opens, a nurse calls him for a quick update. The duties of a representative for someone unconscious, for his Billy in a coma.

He’s beyond exhausted, dragging himself to and from Hawkins General day in and day out, sometimes bringing Max or a few of the other kids along with him. Mostly because every day is the same thing, walking through the halls, facing the polite smiles from nurses who deal with this on the daily, don’t understand the way it feels to see the one you love on that bed.

If he does hear anything new, it’s usually not good news. He knows Billy is getting worse, but still he sits in that room for countless hours, watching and waiting for the moment he’s struck with a miracle, and he comes back to him.

The hospital is not quite as patient though, and since about month four of Billy’s hospital stay, they’d been encouraging Steve to consider his wards right to die. After so much time had passed by without signs of improvement, the nurses had started hesitating in the doorway when he was around, and offering kind little suggestions that were supposed to push him towards the decision to let Billy go.

Things like, “It’s not really him anymore, honey.” and, “He’s getting worse by the minute, poor thing.”, and Steve’s favorite, the one that made him leave the hospital in tears, “If he wanted to wake up, he would have done it by now.”

But no matter how true what they were saying may have been, Steve really did not want to hear it. The only reason the thought of letting Billy go had ever crossed the minds of doctors and nurses was because of what was on the news, all these up and coming stories about hospital ethics committees that were popping up all over the country recently.

They were being selfish, willing to let Billy die just because they were scared they wouldn’t be able to stand the heat that would come from keeping an eighteen year old boy on life support for as long as they had. Whether or not they actually thought they could save him was a question for another day.

So they would mail Steve countless papers and claims and pamphlets to try to reason with him, to persuade him that the best thing to do was to kill Billy because they didn’t want to deal with him anymore. It made him sick to his stomach, to think that people who were supposedly trained to help people were so hellbent on giving up on a patient.

He wonders sometimes, if they wouldn’t be so hasty to pull the plug had he been an easier case. If his father was more supportive and his biological mother present, or if the government hadn’t worked so hard to cover up the origin of his injuries. Maybe even if his representative was a nice young woman instead.

But there’s nothing he can do about it, so he just crumples the papers and ignores their premature condolences, and goes to visit Billy at every moment he can.

The drive to the hospital that particular morning feels like it takes a whole day instead of the 20 minutes the route actually is, Steve feeling like he’s suspended in time. It doesn’t seem real, taking the stairs up to the second floor, elevators were a no go after the free fall he took at Starcourt, and taking a visitor sticker and a bunch of papers from the woman at the reception desk.

He’s walked this route more times than he can count, but this time he can feel that something is wrong, different. On the top of the very first sheet the desk lady hands him, in bold black letters, are the printed words “Right-to-Die” and Steve already knows what is coming.

The woman gives him a half sympathetic look and reads off her scripted spiel. “The Hargrove boy has been unresponsive for six months now, with no signs of improvement in his condition. The recently instituted hospital ethics board wants you to seriously consider the contents of these forms.”

The words are so hollow, the look on her face mostly bored. Steve guesses this same speech was probably given to a thousand other people who’d come through this hospital, and it makes him feel nauseated just listening to it, her less than genuine pity as she reads off her clipboard, making it seem like she doesn’t even care what she is asking of him.

“It’s of course among your rights as representative to say no, but we want to remind you that he has no quality of life being artificially kept alive, and it might be best to let him go.”

“No, they told me he couldn’t feel anything. He’s not suffering.” Steve insists, and as much as he believes that he is right, the confidence in his voice is false. This was something he’d been thinking about every day for the last half a year. “You’ve kept him alive this long, right? That’s got to mean something.”

“Still, this is about him. We just want you to think about if keeping him alive is the right thing to do anymore when we can’t be sure what he’s going through. When he isn’t himself.”

Of course this was something he’d considered in his own mind, six months is a long time, and it was inevitable that a few times on his worst days, he’d have to think about pulling the plug. It was just so different hearing this nurse who didn’t know Billy insisting on it, it was just so impersonal, and it made him think about the hospital's greed, and how they probably just wanted to save money on ventilators and open up another bed.

Without saying another word to her, Steve walks away without the clipboard of papers, and off to room B-216. Of course he'd known this was coming. They’d been trying to drop hints since the moment Billy stopped being able to breathe on his own, but he’d been in denial. As long as Billy's heart was still beating, Steve had hope that he would recover if the doctors would just try.

Still, as he sits down in the chair next to Billy’s bed, he decides he doesn’t want to call Max today. He takes the desk woman's advice, as angry as it made him, and takes the time to truly reflect on the boy in that bed, with the feeding tube down his throat, the respirator breathing for him beside his bed, the IV in his neck, there because the veins in his arms had been so overused.

His hair is much longer now, just past his collarbones, but without maintenance, his blonde curls are knotted and dull. His skin is unnaturally pale, his freckles faded to nothing, and his whole body is littered with angry, dark red scars. The hole in the center of his chest still isn’t all the way healed, and the nurses are constantly fighting to keep it free of infection.

When he wakes up, they say he will be in immense pain and that he will have forgotten how to walk and talk and probably even breathe on his own. There was a chance too that his memory will have gaps in it, which could mean anything from forgetting what happened to him in July, to not even knowing his own name.

Basically if, no- when he wakes up, he won’t really be Billy.

Steve had always heard about and seen in the movies coma patients who twitch their fingers or moved their eyes, or who really give any signs of life, miraculously waking up and being themselves again, but Billy, he had only done the opposite.

At some point, he has to accept that Billy won’t be like one of those other patients, and, in the condition he is in, all pale skin and open wounds and zero signs of responsiveness, they were only prolonging his death. They had tried just about everything they could thanks to Steve’s willingness to cover the expenses, and, although he didn’t want to believe it, maybe just couldn’t accept it quite yet, it was, as the nurse had said, time to think about letting Billy go.

Not today though. He’d spend today with him at the very least, trying to push those thoughts to the back of his mind while he still could. The nurses used to say, when Billy had first been admitted and they still thought there was a chance of recovery, that Steve and Max, whenever she could come, should try talking to him, and Steve always did.

He never really has a whole lot to say, not since everything has been calming down recently. There were no more funerals to attend, no more grieving families to take a hot dish and his condolences to. The kids didn’t need him to watch them anymore, and Family Video had decided to lay him off until he didn’t have to make daily hospital commutes and he could work again. Basically, Steve’s entire world was Billy.

So it was only fair that Billy was what he usually talked about, reminiscing about everything they’d gotten to do together before the accident, telling him about what was happening with his sister now that she was getting older, and giving him updates on how many days it had been and how much he missed and loved him. One of the nurses had heard him say that once, seen him lean forwards and press a kiss to Billys forehead, but she had only turned away, pretending she hadn’t noticed.

Today though, it was much harder than usual to think of something to say to him. He always tried to leave all of the bad stuff at the door, didn’t think it would do Billy any good if he could even hear, to be listening to him always complaining or moping about their situation, but with death weighing heavy on his mind, what else was there to think about?

The anger and the remorse and the depression would be for when he went home tonight and downed a whole bottle of Fireball, Billy’s favorite whiskey, and called Robin drunk off his ass at two in the morning to tell her about how terrible he felt.

It was because he loved Billy with all of his heart that he wouldn’t put him through that. Even if it hurt more than anything else to see his love broken down and dying, which was, in Steve’s opinion, the worst thing that had ever happened to him, he always wore a smile on his face every day he walked into that hospital room.

As hard as that was, and as guilty as it made him feel to admit, Billy's sickness wasn’t the only thing making Steve miserable. He had also been through some unimaginable things himself while trapped in the Starcourt mall, and he didn't come out the other side the same.

Nightmares plagued him constantly, so that when he would eventually come back home from the hospital, he didn’t sleep more than fifteen minutes through the night. Being alone for too long warped his perception of reality, made him think everyone he knew and loved was gone, that he’d been abandoned or all his friends killed. He would constantly call to check on them, most of the time drunk and panicking, but they’d stopped picking up after the first few times. There were so many triggers too that could send him back to that night in an instant, where he’d just get stuck again.

And perhaps that is exactly why he can’t let Billy go so easily, because even if it is heartbreaking and makes him feel so empty inside being there with a version of his Billy who couldn’t speak to him or who he couldn’t hold, he was still alive. If he died now, Steve would have nothing. It would be no different from the losses everyone had suffered, the death of the chief of police and at least thirty other community members robbing them of their soundness of mind.

Letting go of Billy would just be another blow, to him and to the tight-knit community who had come so close together after the accident that rocked their little town. You wouldn't be able to tell from the fact that his room was always empty except for Steve or his sister, but the papers had revered him as a hero. Who he’d become after being hospitalized meant his death wouldn't just affect loved ones.

But more than any of that, he just didn’t want to give up on him. Pulling the plug meant sacrificing so many more moments they could have together, losing the chance to move on from what had happened. How could Steve ever know when it was the right time to do that?

When was it safe to say that Billy wouldn’t ever recover, and that they were just stretching out the inevitable? When could he feel right in letting his very best friend and the love of his life die? Deep down, past his initial reaction of shock and heartbreak, he knows he’ll never truly be ready to say goodbye, but that now was that time regardless.

Just like the nurses said, he wasn’t really Billy anymore. Who he’d been was a teenage boy with too much energy to burn, always getting into trouble and always in motion, bouncing his knee, twisting the ring on his middle finger or the locket around his neck, chain smoking cigarette after cigarette. It used to drive Steve insane how he wouldn’t sit still for anything, but now he would give anything just to have that back.

There was no personality left in him, no stupid jokes to cheer Steve up, no pestering his sister and her friends like a big brother does, nothing left in him at all that made him distinctly Billy. Steve wondered if maybe he had already given up.

If maybe, Billy wasn’t even in there at all anymore, and they were holding on to nothing just to feed their own selfishness. Steve wasn’t the most emotional of people, usually panicking before he got upset, but he could feel tears pricking at his eyes now, as he watched the slow rise and fall of Billy’s, or not Billy’s, chest, and listened to the beeps and hums of the machines that kept him going.

He knew what needed to be done. Just not today.

For now, he holds Billy's hand, unmoving and just warm enough that he could tell he was alive, and whispered to him anything that came to his mind.

If Billy could hear him, he knew he was probably tired of hearing the same stories over and over, thinking of Billy waking up and complaining about Steve being too boring made him chuckle to himself. An instant pang of regret tightens his chest, feeling guilty for being happy.

There was a really sweet nurse about the age of his mother who always checked in on him at the same time everyday, like he was the one with tubes and machines sticking out of his body. Her name was Dale, and she always peeked her head into the room around meal times to ask if he had been down to the cafeteria yet. Usually he hadn’t, and sometimes he still forgot to eat anyways, but it meant a lot to him.

Today though, she came all the way in the room, a sad look on her face, and he had to avoid her gaze entirely to keep himself from breaking down, choosing instead to focus on Billy’s slender fingers where he’d laced them through his own.

“Steve, honey, I know this is really hard for you, it’s hard for all of us when something like this happens, but you need to take care of yourself.” She was just being kind, but he wouldn’t hear it.

If this was going to be the last full day he’d ever spend with Billy, he was going to make it count. A soggy sandwich in the dingy old cafeteria wasn’t worth spending a single moment away from the other boy's bedside. He feels vaguely guilty about it, but he ignores the well meaning nurse, even as she says her generic condolences that all of them were trained to say.

He smooths out Billy's hair, brushing the part that always hung in his eyes to the side carefully, something Billy himself had always seemed to do when he was nervous. It reminds him of the time they tried to do each other's hair and Billy taught him how to make a braid, so he tells Billy about it.

When he hears the distant roar of a car's engine from the open window, it reminds him of the first time Billy drove him home in the now totaled beyond recognition Camaro, so he talks about that. A bird landing on the windowsill reminds him of sitting on Billy’s bed and talking about the seagulls and the beaches back in California where Billy had grown up, so he tells Billy that story too. The phone ringing at the receptionist's desk down the hallway reminds him of the time Billy had called him in the middle of the night to invite him out to the quarry, where they’d kissed for the first time and Steve clumsily asked him to make things official, so again, he told Billy all about it.

It's mostly a comfort to himself, keeping his mind off of the reality of the situation, but then the desk lady announces over the overhead system that visiting hours are over, and it’s time for him to go.

They had been giving him a lot of leeway here at Hawkins General, allowing him to visit every single day and sometimes with a 14 year old, which was strictly against the rules of the ICU. The end of visiting hours was a rule they always stood by though, and despite how much it crushed him to leave Billy by himself overnight, he always did it.

On his way out, he grabbed the stack of papers the receptionist tried to give him off of her desk. He would call Susan in the morning and ask her what she thought. He would try to involve her in the choice, since she’d technically claimed Billy as her dependent after her marriage to his father, who had given enough verbal and written agreements that he wanted nothing at all to do with his son while he was hospitalized that his wife could, and had, stepped in.

He went home that night with the thought in his head that this was the last time he’d do this, and by this time tomorrow, Billy would be dead.

falling feels like flying

Guess whose back into writing! This is a gift for @minky-for-short who has just been an invaluable friend while I’ve been having a bad mental health time lately and this is her AU- a betrothal AU! 

Please reblog and comment over on Ao3!

-------

The papers are signed, the agreement has been made, the ball has been thrown. Prince Zagreus and Prince Thanatos are officially engaged after a long betrothal and now everyone in their kingdoms can breathe a sigh of relief.

Everyone but the princes themselves.

-------

There had been a pause. There had definitely been a pause.

Zagreus leaned back against the door he’d just closed and worried his lip as he thought, a very unprincely habit he’d had since he was a child and would never have done if he wasn’t alone. But he was alone, his chambers empty and silent apart from the humming, flickering candle beside the bed that some servant had helpfully lit for him and the whistling night air beyond the window. He couldn’t really still hear the dregs of the ball going on downstairs, his apartments were too far away, but the music and laughter and pouring wine still echoed in Zag’s head enough that it felt as though he could, lingering like the taste of alcohol on his tongue.

Though none of that concerned Zagreus. He was fixated on the pause, the slight, two second hesitation he’d definitely heard in Thanatos’ voice before he’d bid him goodnight, the way his golden eyes had flickered slightly and a different set of words had seemed to build on his tongue. It had only been for a moment but Zagreus was certain he wasn’t imagining things or thinking wishfully. Not this time.  

Of course they’d left the ball together, it was only right, seeing as it was thrown to celebrate their official engagement, their step from betrothal into full, willing commitment of this marriage contract their parents had devised. They’d been sitting together all night, side by side, sharing their usual, comfortable conversation, even taking the first dance. More than once Zag had marvelled to himself at how far they’d come from gazing distrustfully at each other from opposite ends of a long table while Nyx and Hades dickered over dowries, from trying and failing to find a future in each other's faces. Now they laughed easily, now Zag teased Than for the stiff way he danced, made him chuckle and fire back with a dry comment about how his footwork wasn’t too stiff to knock him on his ass in the training yard. Now Zag rested easily against Than as they chatted amongst their friends when the ball wound down into a loose, easy knot of godlings happy to go long into the evening. Now everything felt so easy.

But as soon as they’d walked into the hall, heard the now slightly listing music and lilting laughter muffled, a kind of tension had settled between them. Like a held breath. Like Than was worrying something between his teeth, not one of his usual puzzles he did as a hobby or thought experiments to improve the running of his mother’s kingdom. He’d had a little too much wine and dancing to be really thinking about any of that, he’d been relaxed and smiling through the whole party, armour discarded and guard down. The way he only got sometimes but Zag looked forward to immensely.

It was a different kind of tension, a strange kind of waiting. Zag had let it lie, certain his new fiance would confide in him when he was ready, simply humming the last song Orpheus had been playing coherently before the wine really got to him, as they walked through the palace’s grand corridors up to the royal apartments. But it had never happened, his fellow prince had stayed closed mouthed and brooding up until the hallway split, Zag needing to go one way towards the crown prince’s suite and Than the other, to the rooms he and the rest of his entourage had been occupying for months.

Zag had turned. He’d waited. He’d fidgeted, hiking the shoulder of his robe up higher where it was starting to slip. He’d scuffed his heel into the thick red carpet.

And then Thanatos had simply inclined his head, wished him goodnight and turned away.

And that would have been it if not for that goddamn pause.

Zagreus sighed in frustration and began pulling away his finery, throwing aside the skull clasps and the gold bangles and cuffs, slipping off the silks, letting it all rattle into bowls and fall to the floor without thought. This was just like Thanatos, throwing goddamned spanners into the works when everything was going great. After they’d finally managed to become friends, grow closer, after he’d actually started to look forward to marrying him and maybe thinking it wouldn’t be so bad to see that face when he woke up every day, to maybe wondering about their wedding night...now he had to bloody pause.

Perhaps he’d had a little too much wine, though he only remembered a few cups. His heart was beating hard in his chest as if he’d just come from the practise yard, his face hot and his mouth dry. Zagreus knew what the sensible decision was, what his mother would gently counsel and his father would command. He knew he should slide between his silken sheets and go to sleep, forget all of this and make sure he didn’t look too hungover for their official engagement portraits in the morning. He should write it off as his own imagination, his brain making space for something it wanted to see.

Perhaps he’d wanted to see it for longer than he’d like to admit.

Zagreus dropped that thought like it was a metal sword that had been sitting in the sun too long. Frustration was easier. Annoyance even, a desire to take those surprisingly broad shoulders that could swing a scythe well enough to knock him on his ass in the training yard, glare into those eyes that had once seemed like cold, hard gold but had softened into honey over time, and demand to know what the fuck his problem was. Why in his father’s name, after everything they’d been through and how hard they’d worked to build something, whatever that something was, why he was pausing now.

Mouth now firmly set in the stubborn scowl he was practically famous for, Zag abandoned his passing acquaintance with good sense and crossed his chambers to yank on a red silk robe. He deserved an explanation and he was bloody well going to get one.

He had plans to storm out of the door with all the princely righteousness he could muster, march down the hallway and hammer on his betrothed’s door to wring some answers out of that statue of a man he would be calling husband in half a year.

Plans that fell apart completely when he threw back his chamber door to see Thanatos standing there, hand raised midway to knock, eyes wide and alarmed. Zag froze, all his frustration evaporating to be replaced by simple bewilderment. Than was still in his ball attire, all flowing black robes and gold jewellery, though rather more rumpled and flustered than he usually was. He had the look he got in his eyes when they’d be sparring together and Zag would surprise him with some move you only got to know from training with the great Achilles, in the split second before he went sprawling back in the dust.

But this time Zag was equally caught off guard.

“Good evening Zagreus,” Than eventually cleared his throat, his courtly politeness a little thin.

“Morning,” Zag corrected, rankling at the formality, Thanatos hadn’t talked to him like that in months, “It’s past midnight.”

A light blush dusted Than’s cheekbones, “Of course. A ridiculous time to come calling, I know but...I wanted to speak with you, if you didn’t mind. Or...were you going somewhere?”

Zag bit his lip then quickly stopped himself, stepping aside, “Nothing important. You can come in.”

Thanatos inclined his head and moved into the dark chambers and its flickering shadows, the candlelight catching on his finery. He moved with uncertainty, like he didn’t know where to put himself or how to exist inside of the one place in the castle that belonged to Zagreus alone. It made Zag’s stomach knot, hadn’t they spent hours here talking together? Hadn’t Thanatos fallen asleep on his bed just last week as they’d sat and read in companionable silence?

Why did Thanatos feel like a stranger to him all over again?

“You can sit,” he grunted, just to stop his betrothed’s awkward rocking on his heels.

Than seemed abashed at least, sinking down onto the expansive bed, making the ropes creak. He left room but Zag made no move to follow, standing and leaning against the black stone wall instead, folding his arms.

“Zagreus…”

Zag. You call me Zag. “What is it, Thanatos? Just say whatever it is you’re here to say.”

The perfectly carved face turned crestfallen, “I’ve upset you.” It wasn’t a question.

Zag just shrugged, wishing he could summon back his anger but it would be impossible. Not with Than sitting right here, looking at him like that.

“I need to apologise, Zagreus,” he sighed, pushing a hand through his white hair, ruining it’s usual perfect sweep, “I...I’ve never been good at talking about sensitive topics.”

“You’re the personification of death?” Zag couldn’t help the corners of his mouth twitching in amusement.

Than seemed relieved at the smile, relaxing a little, “Well, not that particular sensitive topic. But all the rest leave me feeling quite helpless and...and if I’ve seemed distant or closed off to you tonight, I’m very sorry.”

“Look, just tell me what sensitive topic you want to talk about,” Zag tilted his head, “Help me understand it. I mean, we’re officially about to be married now, we should probably start getting more comfortable with each other.”

Something in Than’s eyes flickered, “Well...that’s just it, Zag.”

Real fear settled with a heavy thunk in his stomach. Please don’t break the betrothal, please don’t go. Only later would he wonder why that had been his first thought and not ‘please don’t break the betrothal, my father will kill me’.

Than saw his expression and scrambled, panicked, “Not that I regret it. Not one bit, Zagreus, I promise. Oh gods, I’m making such a mess of this…”

Zag sighed and found himself twisting the ring Than had given him around on his finger, “Than, look it’s okay…”

“It’s not,” his betrothed shook his head, lips tight, “It’s not, I’m sorry. It’s just it made everything seem so real and it made me...it made me realise how big this all is.”

Now he was just surprised. The idea that anything, even marriage, could scare the unflappable Prince Thanatos really was a revelation. Feeling something of a fool, Zag quickly moved to sit beside him, taking one of the hands that was clutching miserably at his hair, holding it in his own.

“It is alright, Than,” he kept his voice steady, even if reversing their positions like this was disconcerting. Usually he was the one raving or panicking and Than would be calmly talking sense into him, “I understand exactly how you feel.”

Than have a long, ragged exhale, clutching his friend’s fingers tightly, “It was just them all looking at us tonight and it just made me realise that...that this is it. This is my home now and you’re my husband and...and it's all real. It's not just words on some agreement from years ago anymore and as happy as I am to spend the rest of my life with you, it's just...it's not how I would have wanted to do it.”

“Me neither,” Zag admitted, smiling a little sadly, “It feels all out of order, doesn’t it?”

“Yes,” the relief on Than’s face was plain, “And I mean, gods Zagreus, I’ve not even kissed you, we won’t be having sex until we’re already bound for life…”

He snapped his jaw shut, hard enough that it must have hurt his perfect teeth. A dark blush stained his skin like spilled wine and he looked as though he was fighting every urge to vanish himself to the next room over. Possibly the next country over.

Zag managed to keep it to a mild smile, though his heart was hammering, “You’ve...thought about that?”

“I...I don’t want to give the impression it’s been my only concern…” Than’s voice became very clipped and polished in his embarrassment, “But...it’s crossed my mind, yes.”

“Well then…” Zag shrugged, voice casual and easy, “If you were amenable to it, why don’t we get that out of the way?”

There was a long pause as what he’d said sank in for Thanatos. If he wasn’t waiting with so much tension roiling in his stomach, Zag would have found it comical, how his eyes widened and his jaw went slack in slow motion.

“It’s...it’s not exactly proper…” he said slowly, though there was clear interest in his expression, in the way he was leaning closer to Zag.

“No,” Zag admitted, “And if you’d rather wait, I’d respect that entirely. Gods, if you don’t even want to do it on our wedding night, I’d respect that too. Betrothed or married, Thanatos, I will never make any demands of you in that regard.”

“I never believed you would,” Than murmured gently but he did look reassured.

Zag smiled, “But if you were open to it, maybe this could be a way to make this very big thing a little smaller? Give ourselves one less thing to worry about when that day comes? And you’d certainly know the man you’re marrying a little better.”

Than laughed, the sound not as nervous as it might have been, “True...I rather think this could work, Zag. No pressure, no expectations, no matter if it was good or bad because...well, because we’d have time to try again?”

“As much time as you wanted,” Zag nodded, his smile growing, “On our own terms.”

“Our own terms,” Than repeated, looking like those words were the last anathema his anxiety needed.

Zag couldn’t blame him, the last few months had been a flurry of decisions about their lives, all ones other people had made. It was good to seize one for their own.

“And you’d hardly be dishonouring me,” Zag chuckled lightly, “I’m to be your husband, after all. I have no intentions of being anyone else’s.”

“Neither do I,” Than gave a soft laugh, “Though you may change your mind when you see how, ah...inexperienced I am at this.”

“Oh come off it,” Zag elbowed him lightly, “Everyone is at the start, you know it doesn’t bother me, just like how I am pretty experienced doesn’t bother you.”

Than nodded his confirmation, though his eyes wandered back into nervousness after, “So...um, where do we start?”

“You want to go now?” Zag couldn’t help a bemused little laugh though his body answered with it’s own eagerness.

“I do,” Than nodded, now barely an inch from Zag’s face, when had he moved so close? And when had Zag moved to match it?

“Then, if I may have this dance, my prince?” he grinned rakishly, throwing the last of his reservations out of the window.

They had kissed before, chaste pecks on the cheek at balls and for the cheers of the crowd then the light, playful kisses to the forehead Zag gave all his close friends. But immediately, as their lips met, they knew this was different. This was shifting ground underneath their feet, a definition that wouldn’t form until they asked it to. And Zag let Thanatos ask first.

He did, after a moment, tilting his head so their mouths fit together better, opening his lips slightly, inviting Zag to lick into his mouth. When he obliged, the stoic, self assured emissary of death actually whimpered, a shudder running through his body as he pressed closer. Suddenly he was kissing him with such abandon that Zag was forced to break it, just so Thanatos would realise how much he needed air.

It was impossible to not laugh at the flush on his cheeks or the shine in his eyes, like a man who’d been starving tasting his first bite of food. Judging him ready and willing, Zag let his robe fall from his shoulders, untying it at the waist and letting it drop away entirely. He let Than’s eyes travel over all of him, let him have far more than any glances as they’d changed after sparring.

“Oh…” was all Than could seem to say but the look in his eyes filled in the gaps, “Zagreus…”

Zag grinned, reaching out and teasingly flicking one of Than’s dangling earrings, “Now you?”

His betrothed undressed a little more awkwardly, more clasps and buttons and layers to be dealt with, to be tossed over the side of the bed to tangle with Zag’s. But gods was it worth it, every last inch of smooth, dark skin, every angle of his lean, wiry muscles, the dusting of pale hair leading down to the silky thicket around a cock that was everything Zag had imagined it might be.

“So?” Than asked, voice edged with nerves again, eyes more vulnerable than Zag had ever seen them.

Zag spoke plainly so Than’s own mind couldn’t help but believe it, leaning forward and putting his hand gently against one cheek, “You are an incredibly beautiful man, Thanatos. I did really get very lucky.”

From the bright eyed way he smiled, his words had struck home.

This time, as they kissed, Zag rolled them gently, guiding Than onto his back with his legs apart. Already his cock was responding with endearing enthusiasm, Zag’s fingers helped it the last few steps of the way, only needing a few light strokes until he was hard. From the way Than moaned and arched under those gentle brushes of his fingers, Zag was already deliriously excited to show him what more he could do.

“Listen,” he murmured, tapping his aquiline nose lightly, “Just lie back and let me take care of you. The second something you don't like happens, just say the word and it stops.”

“Yes Zag,” Thanatos breathed, eyes fixed on him with a kind of trust he was rarely gifted.

To see it shining there in those golden eyes, dancing with the firelight in them, Zag almost faltered. Almost. Barely a pause.

He bracketed Thanatos’ hips with his knees, guiding his cock into him slowly. Than’s head tipped back with each inch, his jaw slackening and breath coming in short gasps.

“Zag...fuck, Zagreus…”

“You sound so cute when you swear,” Zag laughed breathlessly, bracing himself for the last few inches, shuddering as his hips pressed against Than’s narrower ones.

Seemingly with a mind of their own, Than’s hands skated over every part of Zagreus they could reach, determined to explore. His thumbs traced the thin scars under his nipples, his fingers traced the hollows of his collarbone, he grabbed generous handfuls of his ass as he started to rock slowly. Zag would never have thought his betrothed would be so tactile, his distant, reserved Thanatos would be so eager with his hands.

It seemed Than wasn’t the only one learning things tonight.

He focused on the task at hand, working his hips, leaning back to take as much of his betrothed as he could. Gods but it had been a long time and perhaps even longer since it had felt this good with anyone. Something instinctive seemed to be working between them, something that reminded him of when they fought side by side, how Thanatos would always know exactly how to match him and fill the gaps he left, how they felt unstoppable.

Something that made Zagreus think this was going to work.

“Zag,” Than’s voice, strained and thin, snapped him back to the here and now, “Zag, I’m gonna…”

“Good,” he leaned down to press their foreheads together, brushing Than’s lips lightly with his own, “That’s alright, just let go. I’m there with you.”

Permission granted to him, Thanatos gave a strangled cry, hips lifting up enough that Zag found himself having to hold on. There was the snap of released tension, a sensation of heat flooding into him, sharp contrast to the rest of the cool skin pressed against him. It was enough to send Zag tumbling over the edge with him with a sigh of release.

In the moments after it broke, after the rushing waters had settled and all that was left was the ragged, panting breaths, Zagreus waited. He waited to see the realisation dawn on Thanatos’ face, to see the shame flood in to replace the hollow left behind, to watch him decide they had made a terrible mistake. He hadn’t realised that fear had still been lurking in a quiet corner of his mind or perhaps he simply hadn’t cared, it had stood in the shadow of his own desire and the need to help Thanatos.

Zagreus waited for the pause.

But all that happened was a smile. A smile that spread over Thanatos’ face like a sunrise, tired and shy and satisfied.

“Oh yes. I could do that for the rest of my life.”

Zag burst out laughing, the sound raw from his strained voice, he’d been louder than he’d realised.

“Glad to hear it, Than,” he chuckled, gently extracting Than from himself so he could roll onto his back, “I...I’m glad we did this. This was a good idea.”

“It was,” Thanatos hummed, closing his eyes and tipping his head back in satisfaction, “Now this is always going to be ours, whatever else happens.”

“Ours…” Zag repeated, finding his mismatched eyes lingering on Than’s face, watching the shadows find all its angles and hollows. He rather liked the sound of that.

He wouldn’t ask Thanatos to return to his own room. If anyone saw him leave in the morning, they’d just say the princes had drunk too much wine and collapsed into bed still fully clothed. The fact that Than would be creeping along the corridor still in his finery would help the illusion, after all. They could have this night together, the night that was only theirs.

And all the nights after that, well, they’d find excuses for those too.

Zag smiled as he pulled Than close, let him rest against him as he drifted into the kind of peaceful sleep you could only have after a great weight of worry had been lifted from you. The kind of sleep where you felt completely safe.

There had most definitely been a pause. And Zagreus was so glad of it.

Hi there, it hasn’t been that long since my last journal entry but there was unfortunate news that came up. 

I took my dog to the veterinary office as I usually do every 6 months. She is a geriatric dog so this is important to do-- but this occasion was sooner than usual. I wanted to get an unfamiliar, small skin bump that I had found a week prior checked. To our fortune, it was not cancer and I breathed a sigh of relief. But she does have arthritis in her back legs. Although not severe, the vet wished to prescribe her an anti-inflammatory pain killer that she would have to be on for the rest of her life. They asked if I felt comfortable paying further for blood work to be done as this was recommended to see which pain killer would work the safest and best for her, to which of course I said yes.

Through her blood work we found out that my dog has Cushing’s disease. This would explain her more frequent requests for bathroom breaks, or how she would always seem hungry even after being fed. She is not losing fur, luckily. 

It set the reality that she will possibly be leaving me in 2 years. Some dogs, 10% pass the 4-year mark. I carefully listened to the assistant veterinary technician that was handing off the prescription medication to me. It is unfortunate as well that the only viable options of pain killers for my dog’s arthritis, one will eventually lead to susceptibility to kidney disease. The other is susceptibility to liver disease. Maybe we will be lucky.

I cried in the car for a while. I was stoic the entire appointment to try to remain calm. Without realizing it, my whole body just shook with my face crumpling after everything. I love my dog. I love my dog so much. We have always been together since she was a year old. She is turning 14 next month. I love her. She is like an actual child to me. I don’t want her to leave me because I’m selfish.

She won’t be leaving me today, or tomorrow, or the day after that. But realizing the hourglass is running low is horrifying. After finding out the news, then all the other issues my husband and I are trying to handle, I feel this immense wave of depression. I have notified a handful of people about the situation, but everyone is dealing with their own things so it’s necessary that I mourn alone.

We are going to increase the focus on her physical health, so we are going to exercise with her more regularly. I will be away more often because of this and other happenings. She and my husband are the most important things in my whole life. I need to direct my attention away from the screen and into improving vital aspects of my life. I am fed up with myself and how I have handled multiple things.

Today we walked all together for an hour and a half. Then she took her pain medication after her dinner before taking a nap. My dog seemed to be in a very happy mood. I hope this good tone lasts for a long time.

I hope we can talk like this again when the days are better. 

Bye for now

could you elaborate on when you said that people who felt/feel unpretty often become jimin stans/biasers

because jin defies every self-defeating principle but still has a common ground with you. even if “as bias, as stan” applies as always, jin has found a way to tackle that mentality in himself, he’s the you from a wanted future. that’s the difference: he’s come the same way but already completed most plates in his armor, at least on the outside and as far as we can tell. 

it’s just like people who know they’re unconventionally attractive will bias yoongi. he has made a brand out of it, flat out admitting he’s not the standard and struggles with mental health. all while being desired regardless, swimming in projects and recognition and income with a devoted fan base. 

mind you, that is not his totality and a lot of it is a created image, but i refer to the principle here. ‘yoongi has his problems but he’s killing it anyway’, that’s how we perceive him in the media outlets. if yoongi himself, in a silent moment, really thinks he’s killing it and is happy with that, that’s another question we can’t know.

the point is. our biases do share our insecurity. they just go the extra mile and succeed with the tactics we aspire to perfect to stabilize our self-esteem and life. our bias is seemingly one step ahead and we enjoy them so much because they demonstrate where to go, and that this extra mile is feasible. 

as in: if jin can feel ugly but remain in his unshakeable confidence, it could work for me as well. if yoongi can feel drained but hustle, it could work. if jimin could feel insecure but still be popular, it could work. and so on. there’s a huge theoretical hope for oneself attached to biasing someone.

you can image that this has many benefits for your personal progress or temporary soothings which are also important, but also comes at the risk of forgetting yourself and cracking under an unmet hope. aspiring towards improvement driven by desperation sometimes overshadows your actual gifts and strengths that are already fully formed. 

on top of that, it paints idols as being far from extremely vulnerable at a giant scope. it gives them massive role model and projection sphere responsibility as well. at worst, their image traps them in a circle — or they hide that they are actually ‘one step behind’ if you will. because they don’t want to disappoint or admit it to themselves, either way it would mean great discomfort.

that’s why i think one of the best things to do as a fan is finding the member that is on ACTUAL felt eye level with you, and not several steps ahead and so on top of their demons for most of the time. so, your truer carbon copy without regard to the difference in fame obviously. the purpose of that exercise is this: it brings you back to what you currently sport and removes some weight from the esteem question. 

for instance. you could realize that say namjoon actually represents you. in other words, there are even more similarities than with jin. personality-wise you could act as if you were RM perfectly. you can also tell the difference in how rather than adoring him, you respect that member. 

so, knowing you’re similar to namjoon, you would see that your appeal intrinsically rests in how smart and eloquent you are. with a quiet confidence that comes with natural authority that others find magnetic and want to kneel before judging by what namjoon stans are saying in the tags all day. 

the armor is completed there. it needs no fixing beside its natural evolution and adjustment. a namjoon stan would see namjoon one step ahead in their shared struggles, and they would see namjoon himself as trying to employ a tactic to better himself. but from your perspective, since you feel more on eye level with his personality, it looks mighty different. you can learn something about yourself and also find things your esteem is already firmly built on, believe it or not. the member you’re akin to is a great mirror for positive feats.

also, see how the member you resemble the most has a way different strategy for the esteem question (!) that you and your bias share and wrestle with so much pain involved. take namjoon again who has his head in the clouds. he thinks about big issues, he’s preoccupied left and right, he is bts’ central mastermind. everything groundbreaking that was ever done in bts’ reign leads back to namjoon planting the seeds. there is not too much time for thinking about body and surface. and for what reason? he’s namjoon doing namjoon things the way he is needed. 

there is no person ever doubting that he is a qualified person for his position. his brain can make anything happen for him and he can rely on his many positive attributes without even thinking about it. how attractive he is perceived as is not the ultimate decisive factor, and it’s already interwoven with how intelligent others think he is, and that he’s the leader. 

his role has already set his visual appeal and he treats his appearance effortlessly (see e.g. his relaxed style on kimdaily). to the point where he can emphasize self-love and advise someone like jimin who is times more glamorous and causes an immense stir with his looks everywhere and takes first place in so many polls, let that sink in. park jimin. 

you can already tell: once you see the parallel to the member you resemble, you find your easiest, fastest, and most effective strategy to deal with your problem to the point of completely pulverizing it. because you realize it all made no sense to worry from the very start.

is namjoon’s main concern and life topic to feel and be and become universally known as pretty? not in a million years. it’d be so far off his track and god-given capabilities, and the most out of character thing you’ve ever heard. 

if he’d come along crying in need of embraces, questioning his looks every other hour looking for reassurance (e.g. like jimin), or began to boost his esteem with a moniker (e.g. like jin), people would be like, what the hell is going on and why would he have a reason to do that?? 

you see what i’m getting at. for jin or jimin, it would make sense in their overall life scheme, it connects to their goals and struggles and dreams. but for namjoon, that’s total nonsense, nor does anybody expect it from him whatsoever. his responsibility is way elsewhere. and he’s confident in it despite all obstacles. and since you, in my example here, resemble namjoon... connect the dots.

to anybody who cannot relate to namjoon, it must be the most unfair thing ever. and they probably bias jungkook 😄 because he thinks the same thing but also has a little extra mile advantage (being a highly physical and in the moment person which namjoon is not, it’s his achilles’ heel in fact). you can see how this dynamic goes on and on. 

TLDR - the take-away is, find the member you compare to. besides the self esteem tactics your bias uses, this member can have a valuable lesson on your charm points.

Happy 27th Birthday Jackson Wang

My Journey With Jackson Wang

For Jackson's birthday this year, I've decided to share why Jackson's birth is so important to me personally. I'll walk through the emotional journey that ensued once Jackson entered my life.

(Images and gifs are not mine)

Fun Beginnings

It all started when I decided to explore more kpop groups than just Bigbang. The last month of 2016, I discovered GOT7, the group that sang A and Hard Carry. I learned they were having a comeback very soon, so I studied up everything I could on them. The member that caught my eye was Jackson Wang.

Beneath the Surface

I won't pretend I had this amazing ability to go beyond what was shown to me. Not at first. I saw Jackson as the biggest goofball in the group. He was loud and fun and extra. Honestly I thought every GOT7 member was fun and crazy, but Jackson in particular stood out to me. Then, I found this moment.

When Jackson burst into tears and collapsed into his Mom and Dad's arms. As an empathetic cryer, I was obviously using my sleeves to dry my own eyes. That was when I realized there was more to Jackson than the compilation videos were showing. After studying up from some good Jackson fans, I learned he was a gentleman, he had a soft side, he likes compliments and attention from his members, he had olympic level athleticism. These were all nice things to learn, but things only got deeper from there.

Stanning in 2017

Flight Log: Arrival era. My first GOT7 comeback. Poor Jackson got sick for a little while. When he returned, I saw how everyone welcomed him back so warmly. I remember seeing GOT7 joined Monsta X backstage- who I was also im the process of stanning- while reacting to their performance at a music show and everyone just seemed so happy for him to be there. They all loved each other. Jackson got along with basically every idol. Jackson must be very loved.

As I continued to stan, I learned just how good of a person he was. Stories from his past showed that Jackson was the kind person to care for complete strangers as close friends. He cared for elderly women who felt lonely or neglected. He spent hours talking with someone who was too depressed to live another day. He stood up for fans that may be jostled by security, even if it was ultimately for his protection. He made sure the women in his workspace were comfortable and respected. He shook hands and made contact with every person involved in working alongside him. He thanked God for his success in his letters. To me, Jackson seemed to be nothing short of a complete angel. Who could deny it?

Then, Jackson announced his solo career. That was when I saw things how they really were. The amount of hate that I witnessed towards Jackson was crushing for me. So imagine how bad it was for him. Physically, mentally, I saw him hit a wall. People were telling him what kind of music he was and wasn't capable of. They spread lies about him. Then they wondered why he stopped smiling as much.

They only saw him as a comedian or a joke. I just couldn't believe someone I thought was so wonderful was so despised. He was human. He may make mistakes, but he made an effort to correct them. No matter what, he still had feelings. He wasn't a robot or a clown. He could get tired. He could hurt. This was when I decided that I was going to be a ride or die Jackson fan. Because someone so kind and talented didn't deserve anything but love and to be supported for his dreams. I wanted to give it to him.

The Jacky Life

There was a lot of ups and downs after this. Jackson started Team Wang. This is where I saw a new side of Jackson. The hardworking Jackson, in real time. He showed the world his work ethic as he began to work from the ground up to make Team Wang a strong label. Through every release and every appearance he made, he gave 1000% of his effort. To the point where fans were afraid he was going to push himself too hard. He went through endless performances, intense dance competitions, long variety show shoots while enduring exhaustion, anemia, back pain, mental illness all without a complaint or a sign of lessening his passion for his art. I was so concerned, often breaking into tears over my worry. I didn't know what to do to let him know we were proud of him, we supported him, it was ok to rest. But I understood his mindset. He wanted to be taken seriously. He wanted people to see what he was capable of. He wanted the world to see him as Jackys already did. Then one day, it clicked for him. He stopped focusing on what negativity came his way. He learned and grew from it, and focused on improving himself. It was an amazing journey to witness.

It Gets Personal

Jackson continued to blast off as a solo artist, and participate in GOT7, all of which gained immense success. But then it was my turn to hit a wall. In my own life, I'd had doors slammed in my face over and over again, wearing me down more and more. I couldn't move forward. It seemed I wasn't meant to achieve my dreams. I started to kill my own dreams and believe they weren't meant to be pursued. My self worth and hope plummeted. Then Jackson's brand began to grow. "Know Yourself. Make Your Own History." He began to give more and more insight on how he left behind a secure future of olympic fencing to pursue his dreams. He talked about taking risks, learning from failure, not having regrets and at least trying to make your dreams come true. And these weren't just empty words for Jackson. He was living proof. I actually witnessed him rise like a phoenix from the ashes as he began to manage his health better, released his first album Mirrors, launch his own fashion brand, all while remaining his remarkably humble self. Other artists from all over the world flocked to be participants in his career. In his music, he expressed what his fans' support meant to him, and in his interviews he gives Jackys so much credit for getting him where he is now. It felt unreal to be acknowledged by someone I admired so much, and to hear someone who seems so out-of-my-league successful and talented encourage me to do the same. To say it so much that I truly believe he wants us to reach all of our dreams.

Team Wang For Life

For me, being a fan of Jackson Wang is beyond just liking his music. It's a source of love and motivation that I often have trouble giving myself. I see Jackson Wang as a blessing and a guide for me to help me take steps in my life I would've been afraid to were it not for Jackson's words and actions. So I'm extremely grateful for his existence on this earth and his decision to be a goodhearted and determined human being. His birthday is a day that I go back and think about everything he is and appreciate it.

Happy birthday Jackson Wang. Your journey so far has helped me in so many ways, and I will support you in whatever way I can. Thank you for making your presence on this earth so impactful. To me, you truly are a king, that I will continue to love through the ups and downs of this world. You're never alone.

~♡Sincerely, Your Princess♡~

Survey #424

“got no superspeed, but i’m running this town”

What is the first line in the song you are currently listening to/last listened to? "I’m running out of time; I hope that I can save you somehow.” Are you an easy lay? Not in the slightest. What was the last reason you cried? Life and how inexplicably I'm failing at it. What’s hurting you right now? More like what isn't. Do you remember important dates? Only some. I'm awful with numbers. Do you own anything with the Playboy Bunny on it? No. Do you own a bean bag chair? No. Have you ever played Gamecube? At a friend's house. Have you ever played with toy cars before? Yeah, with my nephew. He LOVES monster trucks. Have you ever touched a caterpillar? Oh, definitely. I loved picking them up as a kid. What is your favorite kind of salad? Just plain 'ole iceberg lettuce with ranch, really. Are you any good at Ping-Pong? Holy hell no, I SUCK. What was/is your high school mascot? A firebird. Can you make cute little animals by folding paper? God no, I'm awful at origami. Like, I have zero concept of how to do it. What kind of music do you like? Various types of metal and rock. Do you like apple juice? Yeah. Do you like to draw? It's funny, like I do love it, but I barely ever do it because I get frustrated when I can't get what's in my head onto paper. What do you put on your french fries? Generally ketchup. How many people can comfortably sleep in your bed? Two. Do you want to have a big family in the future? I don't want kids, just pets. Probably a lot of pets. Is Vegas one of your must-see places? No. Pet rat: yay or nay? I've had multiple pet rats and I adore them. I've come to find I'm not the best at keeping rodents because changing the bedding so much sucks ass, but nevertheless they are fantastic pets for people who don't mind the maintenance. Would you call yourself a writer? Written any stories lately? Yes. I haven't written in a while, though. I just have absolutely zero motivation to RP. Are you good at reading people's body language? I probably overanalyze it, really. Ever threatened somebody and actually went through with it? I don’t threaten people. Does holding newborn babies scare you? Extremely. I feel like they're made of thin glass. Piercings: yay or nay? I LOVE piercings. They add an interesting touch to your appearance and to me just (usually) look super cool. There are very few piercings I don't like. Do you have a collage of pictures in your bedroom? No, but I want to make a motivation board very badly. Favorite Nicholas Cage movie? Ghost Rider. Were video games better in the 1980s, 1990s, or the 2000s? Why? '80s games bore me honestly, but I love some '90s and many 2000s games. I've got to say ultimately newer games win, because of graphics increasing immersion (no, I do not whatsoever believe graphics are everything or always make a better experience), voice acting improving immensely, etc. Have you ever watched The Beverly Hillbillies? Yes! Mom loves it so I used to watch it a lot with her as a kid. I'd still watch it. Did your mother ever sing lullabies to you when you were younger? Yes. Are you ready to get out of this town? I HATE THIS TOOOWN, IT'S SO WASHED UUU-UP, AND ALL MY FRIENDS DON'T GIVE A FUUU-UUUUUCK god hell yes get me the fuck out. Do you know anybody that is pregnant right now? Quite a few. What are you listening to? "Superluv” by Shane Dawson. Have you ever gotten a speeding ticket? No. Does your father have any facial hair? Yes. Did your grandparents teach you anything? My maternal grandmother, the only one I really ever knew, taught me I'm a disappointment, pretty much. And a bitch. Do you want/have a Bachelor’s degree? It'd be nice to have one, but I don't, and I'm not pursuing it again. I've wasted enough of my parents' money. Are you into superheroes? Who’s your favourite? Not seriously, but I enjoy them well enough. I like Spider-Man. What did you have for dinner last night? Mom ordered Mexican. I had two shrimp and cheese quesadillas and rice with cheese. Do you think you look similar to your siblings? No. Have you ever played Cards Against Humanity? Did you like it? Yeah, it's fun. Do you know your best friend’s middle name? Yes. Are you close to your father? I am. Have you ever had a serious conversation with your dad? Yeah. Would you rather have long or short hair? I enjoy having short hair way more. Who did you go/plan on going with to prom? I went with Jason twice. Have you ever been to a debate and speech tournament? Hell no, and I never would. Arguing makes me cry lmao. Are you someone who enjoys stand-up comedy? Yep. What’s one thing that scares you about living alone and being independent? A lot of things do, but one thing in specific that I fear is that I let the house become cluttered and messy. I'm so shit at cleaning, especially when I'm depressed. It's why my own bedroom isn't even fully decorated, and we've lived here since I wanna say last November. If someone offered you an all-expenses paid trip to one European country, where would you go and why? Germany, 'cuz I enjoy the culture and would love to try some foods and visit places. Have you ever won anything on the lottery? No. Are you interested in the World Cup? I couldn't possibly care less. What’s the longest time you’ve ever been on a plane for? Idk. Do you let your hair dry naturally or do you towel-dry it or blow dry it? I use a towel to dry it some, then let it really get the job done naturally. How many of the Harry Potter books have you read? None. Who last gave you their number? When I posted on Facebook about going on a mental health hiatus, my good friend Alon messaged me her number if I ever needed to talk. I was really thankful. Are you often the last one to understand a joke? Honestly yeah. I'm slow to grasp a lot of things. Your first black eye: Did you give it or get it? Never gotten or given one. Have you ever slept in a tent, indoors or out? Yes to both. Are you mad right now? I'm annoyed, but not mad. Are you allergic to nuts or dairy products? No. Has anyone ever called the cops on you? No. Do you ever actually drink milk alone? Yeah, I love milk. Do you have a sensitive gag reflex? It is EXTREMELY sensitive. What was the last situation to upset you? I'd rather not talk about it. Have you ever had an online argument? I have been heavily active on the Internet since I was like, 11. Maybe younger. I have been in plenty. Are you at risk for any medical issues? A lot of heart problems run in my family. I'm also suspicious I may develop diabetes, which also runs very heavily in my family. What were you doing at 7:00 a.m.? Surprisingly, I was asleep. Do you own a robe? No. What would you consider your life to be? A wreck. What is your favorite mark of punctuation? I like question marks. Who knows your biggest secret? Nobody. Do you think anyone has feelings for you? Probably not. How do you know? I just doubt it. I'm so unlikable right now. Could you go a day without eating? I don't think I could. I do not react to stomach pain well, and that includes when I'm hungry. How many bracelets do you have on your wrists right now? None. What’s your favorite drink? Strawberry Sunkist, but I don't allow myself to have it. I will DESTROY a can or five of it. Who was the last person that texted you? My mom. What are you craving? Nothing really right now. What was the first thing you ate today? An everything bagel. What was the last type of meat you ate? Pork. Have you taken any medication today? Yeah, I take some prescription meds in the morning and at night. Have you ever been to Hawaii? No, but that'd be cool. Do you know anyone who has diabetes? My mom, for one. Have you ever made a boy cry? Sadly. Who are you talking to? Nobody. Do you think you’ve ruined your chances with someone? Absolutely. Your parents split; would you want to live with your mom or dad? My parents are divorced, and I stayed with Mom. Would you strongly prefer to go out with someone of your own skin color/racial background? I couldn't care less. For you personally, is abortion an option in case of an accidental pregnancy? For others, absolutely. It's your right. For me myself, it's possible, idk. If I was God forbid raped, I probably would have an abortion. If I accidentally got pregnant in a healthy relationship, I'd probably have a "too bad, so sad" outlook where I'd suck it up and go through with the gestation because having sex and risking pregnancy was my own decision. Even if I'm pro-choice, I think I'd feel too guilty aborting, especially with the child being someone's I love. Is it a requirement that you communicate every day with your significant other (via phone, text, in person, whatever)? IF I had an s/o, no. I like to, but sometimes you just want space. Are you fetish-friendly? I'm not gonna lie, some fetishes are just too fucking weird for me. I TRY not to judge, because I doubt you can actually help fetishes, but I inevitably do sometimes. If you're asking would I engage in fetishes because my s/o liked them, possibly, but it would really depend on what it is. Have you ever cosplayed? No. I think cosplay is really cool, though. Do you support the exploration of outer space? If yes, would you consider taking a trip into space, or even to another planet? As creatures who crave knowledge and understanding of our universe, I do support space exploration, but I do NOT believe we should be spending as much money as we do on it. Taking care of the planet we're actually on is far more important imo. I wouldn't personally go to outer space. Is it okay for men to wear makeup? What’s your opinion of male crossdressers? It's totally okay! Guys with makeup can be super attractive. Crossdressers, too. Go for it. You’re in a new relationship and your partner admits that they have had 14 sexual partners. Does that sound like a lot to you? For me personally, yes. I don't even know if I'd date someone with 14 past sexual partners, honestly. I would admittedly question their loyalty. Would you let your children under 13 watch movies with full nudity? No. If someone asked you, “What’s the worst thing you’ve ever done?” would you know the answer right away? I would. What is your opinion concerning strip clubs? Not my scene at all, but so long as you respect the dancers, whatever. You do you.

Practical self-care has a lot of overlaps with other areas, so I’ll try to only discuss the things that I tend to isolate to practical self-care, though I’ll mention the others in the listing as well.

Budgeting

To-Do Lists

Exercise List

Grocery List

Meal Plans

Shopping Lists

Good Nutrition

Good Hygiene

Friend and Family Check-In

Organizational Habits

Setting Alarms

Get Rid of Things No Longer In Use

Schedule Appointments

Engage In Self-Reflection

Ask For Help

Shopping and Food Runs

You’ll notice there’s a lot of lists here. I find that practical self-care involves a lot of lists and organizing, though that could just be because that’s what “practical” is for me, and how it manifests.

Budgeting involves an excel spreadsheet of what all my money is allocated for, and notes on if I have to adjust that, and what for. I have a budget for emergencies, but sometimes it isn’t always enough. Tires can be expensive – that means some of the money has to come out of another fund, if it isn’t there for it. Noting that is useful, as that usually lets me know where I should put money back in at a quicker rate.

The lists – To-Do, Exercise, Grocery, and Shopping lists, are all quite useful. They keep me within the budget, for one. They also contribute to my meal plans, as I only buy food that is on the meal plan, thus preventing the likelihood of going astray from it. Meal plans also make sure I eat enough, so that I don’t fall into bad habits. The exercise list, also keeps me on track with the exercises I need to do, and marking them off feels so good.

The same with the general “to-do” list. I usually make those daily, but they can be for any workable time. Daily just happens to work for me, and so it usually involves daily cleaning tasks, or things I need to do for the day.

General organizational habits, outside of to-do lists, is also good. I find this to include things like making notes on my laptop calendar about upcoming things, or setting alarms for things beyond waking up – for instance, an alarm to take a pill, or an alarm to start settling down for sleep, could be useful. Maybe meal time alarms? Whatever you need reminders with on a daily basis, you can use an alarm for.

It’s also good to help get rid of things not in use, like old clothing, replaced appliances, or other such things. Where possible, I would recommend donating these things, but when not, try to make sure to dispose of them in as good a way as possible, recycling where you can, and throwing away when necessary. This also goes for food, though – keep your refrigerator and cupboards cleared!

This may be an odd one for practical, and perhaps would better fit some for Personal or Emotional, but I find Self-Reflection to be a very practical engagement. It’s more of a philosophical exercise for me, looking into things I have done, and reflecting on why I did these things, if these are things I still wish to do, what I get out of doing these things…understanding myself is immensely useful in helping me try to, well, work on myself. I can “troubleshoot” better if I know what I’m working with. So can you. Analyzing your behavior, asking “why”, and figuring things out, will help you “order” yourself better, as you order your life better.

And then, the last one – asking for help. It’s practical, and you’re not expected to be able to do everything. This may also be considered a social thing, but as it can influence so many things, it’s hard to limit it. You may need help with an exercise routine, or with fixing your car. Neither of those are strictly social. Figuring out where you need help, and becoming okay with asking for it, is an important skill to develop.

You don’t expect anyone around you to be capable of everything, do you?

You probably even like helping in some things.

Other people are the same. No one expects you to do everything, and some people enjoy helping, in different areas. It’s okay to admit when you can’t do something, and get help with it. It’s normal, and it’s the practical response.

Shopping and Food runs then are another thing that seem obvious, and like they shouldn’t be on a self-care list, but sometimes it really is hard to get out and do things. Having the list makes it easier. If you can’t get out, you can now use many apps and resources to have food brought to you, however I find the social benefit of shopping to be a good part of going out; even if it just ends up as people watching a bit, seeing people about their day to day lives just does something for me that reminds me life is good. I wish I could explain it. It also saves on the delivery fee. Even when I order food for myself, I tend to prefer to pick it up, over having it delivered to me. 

Practical self-care does cross into many other areas, but overall the core of it is based on organization, order, and using tools to better manage your life, so that you don’t suffer needlessly. A lot of practical things for me are mostly tools to help me remember to do things, thus the lists. Remembering to do these things, does significantly improve my overall health in many areas, notably financial health and physical health.

The theme of it, though, is realizing that things can’t all be done without help, whether that help is a list, an alarm, a reminder, or another person. Embracing that is key to this self-care.