#the progression from The Next Doctor to Waters of Mars is just so

[canlifechillforasecond]

Tenth doctor in the specials really is like “I’ve hit rock bottom and I’m picking up a shovel.”

#the progression from The Next Doctor to Waters of Mars is just so #thinking about a convo between 10 and 4 set during this time period in a big finish audio where 10 is like #‘I have no friends now but it’s fine because my hatred keeps me going’ like that’s fine and normal #actually I think I’m gonna elaborate on this later #doctor who #tenth doctor #paradox posts

[katya45kg]

Weightloss tips u may not know about or do but don’t know the science behind them 🩷🫶🏻

1. After a 48hr fast your dopamine receptors reset. For example: a mars bar gives u a dopamine hit? Gone. Try eating fruit now, it will taste better, sweeter & its more healthy for u. - source “Fast like a girl by Dr Mindy Peltz”

2. The reasons why people can’t stop themselves from binging is because of sugar and flour. Eating those foods or food containing them MAKE u hungry. The best way to satisfy yourself after a meal is to cut those products out. I eat only fruits and vegetables and i find that after lets say 2 tomatoes or a banana, i feel satisfied. Some days all i eat is a piece of fruit for snack and a salad for dinner & im fine. - source “Bright line eating by Susan Peirce Thompson”

3. After 3 days of fasting, the hunger goes away. Push through it & you’ll notice it gets easier. When u break your fast ALWAYS do it with something healthy like fruits or vegetables. Going back to like ice cream will ruin the dopamine receptors and you will crave unhealthy foods again. - source I can’t remember but ive heard it heaps on YT videos & ive tried it and can vouch for that tip.

4. After 2mins of running or high intensity exercise, your body runs out of energy & begins to fuel you by producing cortisol to keep u going. High amounts of cortisol results in your body storing BELLY FAT. So if u happen to notice that u store belly fat mainly, that could be the reason. Source - Autumn Bates on YT (i forgot which vid but i think maybe it was a tik tok, sorry.)

5. Starvation mode is a myth. Look at prisoners of war for example. They are so emaciated due to lack of food, if “starvation mode” was true, they wouldn’t end up like that. Maybe u may not loose for a few days but that is your body holding water or possibly gaining muscle, if it prolongs further than this see my next tip. Source - i forgot im so sorry, possibly a podcast?

6. Your body has a natural rhythm known as the circadian rhythm. This in short like an internal clock that regulates our sleep-wake cycle and other bodily functions. It helps us feel awake during the day and sleepy at night. It's influenced by factors like light exposure, hormones, and daily routines. It means that your body doesn’t digest food the same at night, if at all. It isn’t supposed to. If u feed yourself after 6-8pm, the digestion process is slower, much slower. This can cause to hormones being released at the wrong time, storing fat, keeping u awake etc. It is best to not eat after 6pm (if u heard this tip from ur mother growing up, it is actually science backed, its not so u “eat less & that makes u loose weight” its because u stop eating after a certain time. It is actually because your body isn’t designed to digest food late in the night and so u loose fat easier.) Source - “Change your schedule, change your life by Dr Suhas Kshirsagar”

7. Birth-control whacks out your hormones. If u are on BC & find u have all these cravings & can’t seem to restrict, thats most likely the reason why. A lot of doctors will tell u “its just water weight” but thats not the case. The constant stream of synthetic hormones keeps your body in a state that similarly reflects how u feel the week before your period (bloated, craving, tired etc) and u feel this way continuously. Im not saying go off birth-control but if you are puzzled as to why u may feel like this & u are on BC this may be the reason. Source “Your brain on birth control by Sarah Hill”

8. Also on the topic of hormones, if u aren’t loosing weight no matter what u do or its very slow progress, it can be due to a hormonal imbalance. Exactly which one im not sure, it depends on you and your body. U can see which hormones are out of balance via online tests (idk what to google i read it in a book). Completing tests online can give u a rough idea of which hormones may be unbalanced and then u can go to your doctor and request certain tests to medically check. Your dr can then advise you on what to do to balance them. You may also have hyperthyroidism which can make u constantly tired, unable to loose weight and sensitive to stress. Source - “Hormone repair manual by Lara Briden”.

That is all i can think of rn. I have read all books i have sited & many many more. There is definitely a huge science to weight loss and i may make another post in the future stating what i have learnt. Most books are written by drs or people of similar qualifications. I applied all these to my life and loose weight continuously. My mother is also a certified nutritionist, personal trainer and life coach & she also follows all these things & has read the same if not more books. She is almost 50 & bmi 18.3 & has consistently been this way for my whole 21yrs of living even after having 3 kids. She doesn’t loose weight due to her high calorie intake (like 3k cals a day) but she also doesn’t gain weight so if u follow these examples by restricting u will see major weightloss. I also have lost 5kg in 8 days from following these tips this relapse & last relapse i lost 30kg in 4ish months from these tips.

[clockworksteel]

Well, quarter of the way through the year. Might as well review how the goals are doing.

Overall, despite the lack of any notable bad events, it was kinda a rough start. Too many appointments, perhaps. There's my housemate's ongoing medical issues (probably some sort of appointment every 1-2 weeks on average so far this year, plus trips to the pharmacy), my vehicle safety inspection came due in February, did taxes, had my own doctor appointment, there were dentist appointments that didn't actually happen, plus of course the worse end of daylight savings happens in the first quarter.

Anyway, the goals:

1: Have some sort of exercise habit again

Honestly, nothing to comment on here. I haven't even made plans.

2: Take care of at least one longstanding thing in the house

I put the auto-closer on the back door, although without the chain that it kinda also needs to deal with the wind. Still, reasonable progress on an unambitious goal. Should've probably made it, like, 2-3 tasks. I'd like to get the water heater replaced in the next few months.

3: Clear the stacks of papers from my desk

I've done a couple sessions of cleaning the papers a little, just looking through for anything that was an obvious trash/shred. Mail has come in too, but I think the stacks are overall lower. Still, need to step it up.

4: Make some more progress on gender stuff

Not much concrete progress here. I haven't really sat down and just thought about things at all. (Also there's been a thing that's been bothering me about my parents and religion since my last visit on Christmas break which has kinda consumed my idle thoughts a bit. May need to try to put it all into words at some point.)

Still, I've made notes of various stray thoughts, events, and dreams as relevant. That's resulted in 15 distinct notes so far this year. I won't be sharing all of them in detail.

I think the most meaningful one is that, after earning the Challenge Enthusiasts goal "Void Given Focus" I thought that would be really cool as a gender. And you know what? When I'm gaming, that's what I am. I don't think it applies when not gaming though. So I guess that's just the "Clyceer" gender. They/them pronouns for that still.

The other ones are some variation on "sure wish I was trans", notes about dreams, and also I have another dress now.

5: Earn at least 100 more Challenge Enthusiasts points

I thought this was going to be a whole-year goal, I already have earned 110 points. Perhaps my neglect of other things hasn't entirely been due to exhaustion, but also a lot of these were just done on my weekly Saturday streams.

I'll probably keep going for more points, but may slow down the off-camera stuff. My full notes also include the start times, but here's just the points.

Jan 23: Ittle Dew got a 5 point objective that I'd already completed (won't count for goal, but is a point gain, technically noticed on Jan 29)

Feb 4: Achieved Lone Fungus "Spores and Spells" objective (10 points)

Feb 5: Achieved the Blasphemous' Miracle of Penance (10 points)

Feb 7: Achieved FTL's Federation Victory (15 points)

Feb 10: Achieved Hollow Knight's Void Given Focus (30 points)

Mar 2: Achieved Patch Quest's Monster Hunter (5 points)

Mar 9: Achieved Haiku, the Robot's Anti-Corruption Protocol (15 points)

Mar 23: Achieved ZeroRanger Grapefruit Smasher (15 points)

Mar 23: Cyber Hook's Retrowave Traceur (10 points, and my first First Person points) Full Challenge Enthusiasts profile: https://cedb.me/user/9f1f4644-b3d3-40b7-a348-fb9ce59222c4

6: Finish Factorio and at least one other game that I haven't played in over 4 months

Yeah, the other video game-related goal is done already too. Should probably throw in Yooka-Laylee and the Impossible Lair sometime this year. It's a Challenge Enthusiasts goal, and all I need to do is beat the titular Impossible Lair with the completed bee shield.

Jan 18: Finished Hue, which hadn't been played since May 27 2023

Jan 25: Finished Factorio

Feb 18: Started Psychonauts 2: I'd never started it, but bought it long ago enough that I'm writing it. Probably will take a while because it's a video playthrough, but is basically guaranteed to finish now.

Unrelated to any start of year goal, I've also taken up interest in the Super Mario Maker Team 0%, and have started helping out with Super Mario Maker 2. I've beaten 13 levels from 2020 so far this year. Not any that were particularly impressive, but cleaning up the mere Expert levels and kinda garbage Super Expert levels frees up time for the good players to grind the truly tough ones.

#clockworkgoals #clockwork gender

[gallifriendly]

The Next Doctor is such a strange episode of Doctor Who. Every time I remember it exists, I keep thinking it takes place after The Last of the Timelords and not Journey's End.

It features Jackson, the "Next Doctor", who knows he's the Doctor but doesn't remember anything else. Then it turns out he isn't The Doctor, he's just some guy who got caught up in an alien plot. It's so much like a reverse of Ten in Human Nature/The Family of Blood where 10 thinks he's just some guy caught up in some plot, but turns out he's The Doctor. But it also plays it straight in the sense that both have bad dreams that hint at their actual past life, and have their identities revealed to them through a fob watch. The Doctor even goes through this episode referring to himself as John Smith (I know he does that often but it sticks out).

Anyway, it really feels much more like a series 3 plot. Especially since the fob watch / forgotten identity turned out to be key to the series 3 finale.

And then there's Rosita. She's not much of a character I guess, just there to give Jackson a companion character, but she has a few traits of both Rose and Martha. However, the fact that she's a black woman taking care of an amnesiac man who may or may not be The Doctor, who she interacts with in a kind of servile manner reminds me of the role Martha was forced to adopt when in Human Nature/The Family of Blood (except Rosita isn't a medical student forced to play servant and is having a better time than Marta obviously). Hmmmmmmmm

Lastly, there's the lack of continuity with Journey's End. The S4 specials really ramp up 10's ego and hubris, riding on his recent losses (Donna to that mindwipe, Rose to Tentoo) and finally all this culminates in The Timelord Victorious and his breakdown in The End of Time. Except, apart from one line at the end of The Next Doctor, this doesn't come into play at all. It is a really standalone episode, you wouldn't guess that Ten just lost two people so dear to him forever. I wouldn't have guessed that this is the same Ten who is so scared of his own mortality that he starts going off the rails one episode later when he hears a prophecy foretelling his death.

So I keep unconsciously replacing it with Voyage of the Damned, where Ten latches on to Astrid so fast but before you can say "unhealthy coping mechanism" she dies. And then my mind links VotD to Planet of the Dead where 10 is reckless and oddly distant with the companion stand-in (Christina). And when all hell breaks loose in The Waters of Mars it really seems like a natural progression.

#i mean it's been a while so the details are a bit hazy so i might be totally off base here #(also at the time i really didn't like votd because teenage me hated how after martha left 10 just immediately went head over heels #for another blonde woman. so switching those eps in my head improves my enjoyment of votd even though it makes no sense re:wilf & turn left #the next doctor #doctor who

[locke-writes]

Hello!! I love your writing and I am so thrilled your requests are open! Any chance you could write a drabble about Mark Watney from The Martian where he's been home from Mars for a little while now but gets a panic attack because something reminds him of his time up there and reader calms him down? If you need it to be more specific maybe he's triggered by the water filter in his and reader's home breaking so they're out of water for a little or there's a really bad storm going on? Sorry this is so long and if you don't want to write it I totally understand. <3

Mark had been home for ten months and it still felt strange to wake up on Earth. He wondered if that was something he'd ever get used to and if he ever did how long would that take. It wasn't as though there was anyone he could ask, no one had been in his situation before and while certain experience of being away from home for long periods of time might be similar there were still enough differences that he felt entirely alone. NASA had been the one to require him to see a doctor once a month for the first year he was back on Earth but it was you who had suggested he see a therapist.

You worried, you knew there might be things he would need to speak about, things he'd need to learn coping mechanisms for and you knew if he needed a diagnosis or medication for anything then a professional would be best. Mark thanked you for urging him to go after he'd been to the first session, he hadn't realized the psychological toll being on Mars had truly taken on him. Hadn't realized just how much mental trauma he'd sustained as well as physical trauma.

He'd been seeing a therapist every week for those ten months and he knew he'd made tremendous progress yet still with every few steps forward there's always a chance for a step back. There were certain things he'd still had to unlearn, was still unlearning. There was no need to ration food anymore, he could visit a grocery store at any moment. People weren't going to leave him behind and if he was left alone for a period of time, you'd always come back to him as well as text him just where you would be or were heading to.

Really there was no telling what could lead to a specific resurgence of memories from Mars, or that fear of being left without human contact once again. Everything was different and yet it all felt the same.

When the news had announced a storm warning neither you nor Mark had thought anything of it. Storms had come and gone, heavy rain and thunder, in the time that he had been home. He hadn't thought anything of the wind warning, had it in his mind that he'd be fine and was more worried about the power going out then anything at all.

Of course anything can trigger a panic attack though and the wind hitting the windows, howling outside, more aggressive than you'd ever felt in your life was what caused Mark's. One moment he was there with you on the couch reading a book, the next he was back on Mars, back in that storm only now with that lingering feeling that he'll be left alone once again, he'll be thought of as dead yet again. The book fell from his hands as he moved to grip the couch cushion tight trying hard to breathe but feeling as though there was no air left around him.

The moment you heard the book hit the ground you were in front of Mark taking his hands in yours. This wasn't his first panic attack and the two of you had learned ways of comforting him through them together. He stared at you, fear in his eyes as he was half with you and half with Mars. You asked him to close his eyes and he obeyed following you guidance on breathing. Breath in, hold it, breath out, repeat. He focused on the sound of your voice, focused on breathing, focused on what he could feel pushing out the sound of the wind as much as he could.

It took a few minutes for him to be able to fully regulate his breathing, another few minutes before he felt as though he could open his eyes. You were there with him, you'd always be there with him to help him through any bout of fear, any panic attack. He was home he had to remind himself, if he was with you then he was home and the wind was just wind, nothing more.

Tag List: Ask to be Added

#locke writes #the martian #mark watney #the martian drabble #mark watney drabble

[kakiwrites]

astronomy

Genre: angst

Hajime iwaizumi x reader

Warning: cancer, y/n death

Synopsis: when you get diagnosed with cancer, you wanted to spend what little time you had left completing your bucket list with iwaizumi.

a/n: blame @tendousfingerbandagess for this idea. I was just listening to conan gray's new song 'astronomy' then prompted this idea. I want to share my pain with you all hehehe! Let's get started.

"we found that you have acute lymphocytic leukemia…" were the first and only words you heard from the doctor before blood suddenly rushed to your ears.

You were rushed to the hospital by your boyfriend, Iwaizumi, when your very high fever kept coming back every few hours. Hajime sat next to you as the doctor broke the news to you, trying to comfort you by running his thumb over your clenched knuckle. He hoped to ease you into the harsh reality that was brought upon you but you couldn't feel anything then. All you felt was the piercing cold. You didn't know if it was a symptom of your new diagnosis or because of the news itself.

"w-well, can you still treat it?" Iwaizumi asked for you, squeezing your hand to attempt and bring you back into this conversation.

"we can but it'll be painful-"

"what if I don't want to be treated?" you suddenly chimed in. that caused Hajime to turn to you with a shocked expression. No. You have to get treated. He can't lose you.

"w-what are you saying, (y/n)? Y-you can't be serious." Iwaizumi let out a humorless chuckle, praying that you would laugh along and reassure him that you were kidding. But you didn't do that. You sat straight in the uncomfortable chair, waiting for the doctor's response.

"Well, though it is not ideal, we can delay putting you on the transplant list but that will lessen your chances to survive. Chemo therapy is also on the table." the doctor replied professionally, his clipboard opened on your file to take note of your wishes.

"I want to delay both as of now. I-I just need time to think…" your voice cracked. You wanted to be strong. To show your boyfriend that you could handle it and that you'll be okay. But from the looks of your face, how you trembled beside him, iwaizumi knew that it was the exact opposite of what you were trying to portray. The doctor nodded his head before he left you alone with a confused and distraught Iwa.

"why?" Iwa's voice was barely above whisper as his glassy eyes looked into yours in sorrow. He wanted you to live. He already planned his future with you. How you would have two kids running around the small house you two would purchase to accommodate your family. But now, he wasn't so sure if that same dream of his will come to life. The only thing he could do now was pray that you'll survive and live through this.

"I want to live my life, haj," you replied. You shot him a sad grin before you took a deep breath and spoke once more. "I want to live my life to the fullest before I grow weak and have to sit in a hospital room and wait impatiently for the small chance that I'll find a donor or see any big progresses." you let out a watery laugh. Damn, this was harder than it looks. "I want to live my last stronger moments with you." tears ran down your cheeks at the end of your little speech. You looked back to see iwaizumi's tears flowing down just like yours did.

Iwaizumi brought your hand up to his quivering lips and placed a soft kiss on them. "then I'll help you. I'll help you live your life to the fullest." he placed another kiss on your knuckle, a sign of a promise he was willing to do anything to keep.

"okay, I'm done!" you called Iwa. You placed your pen down and waited for him to pop out from your shared bedroom.

Iwaizumi smiled and sat next to you on the couch, reaching a hand out to take the slip of paper from you. You gave it to him willingly. "have a road trip around Japan, adopt a puppy, try delicacies in each city we visit, bungee jumping, and star gazing. Wow, it looks like we have a lot of things to do~" he said, wrapping his arm around you and bringing you closer as his eyes skimmed through the list once more.

You nodded your head in agreement. Iwaizumi explained to his team that he wouldn't be there as often because of your diagnosis. They all agreed that your health came first and that they'll be fine hearing his critiques on their forms and diet from home. Just like that, he already sacrificed so much for your sake. He now asked you to write down a small little bucket list you could do together before you decide to settle down and get better. He promised to help you live your life to the fullest after all.

"When do you think is the best time to start working on this?" he asked, waving the list in his hand. You shrugged. You didn't want to rush him into finishing this and risk burning your boyfriend out. This was his time to relax and have fun beside you. "We should get packing then!" he took both of your hands and pulled you up from your seat, causing a giggle to bubble up from your throat. You tilted your head when his words sank into your brain. Pack? Right now?

"You want me to pack? Right now?" you asked skeptically. Iwa chuckled before leaning in and pressing a quick kiss on your soft lips.

"because we're going on that road-trip tomorrow, you idiot." Hajime watched your eyes lit up with glee before you skipped into your bedroom and packed your shared luggage.

Even in the devastating predicament you were in, you didn't stop being so positive and happy. That was one of the things he loved about you.

"We drive through the woods

Rich neighborhoods to watch

We joked as we looked

That they were too good for us

Cause socially speaking we were the same

With runaway fathers and mothers who drank

A tale old as time

Young love don't last for life"

You sat in the passenger seat of Hajime's car, a blanket keeping you comfortable while Conan Gray's astronomy blaring through the speakers. Iwaizumi couldn't help but bop his head behind the wheel while you sang along.

"damn, your voice sounds amazing." he complimented, causing your cheeks to feel hot. Iwaizumi chuckled before he turned and parked in the wide parking lot of the animal shelter.

"wait! Are we getting the puppy now?!" you squealed excitedly. Iwaizumi clicked his seatbelt off and hummed in confirmation. You never got out of the car that quickly before.

Fortunately, this was only the beginning.

For the next few days, you traveled around Japan with your new puppy, iwaizumi named (y/n) Jr., went bungee jumping together, and tried delicacies in each town. you had the time of your life.

But fun had to end.

On the last day of your third week, you started to feel waves on waves of fatigue wash over you. You just wanted to rest with Iwaizumi but you felt like giving in was only admitting that you can't handle it anymore.

So you forced yourself to get up.

It was hard to hide things from iwaizumi. He was always perceptive, especially now. He was there to help you live.

He needed you to live. Because he knew that he wasn't anyone without you.

"you okay? We can rest today if you want." he asked worriedly, walking over and assisting you to a seat. He went into the kitchen to fetch you a glass of water.

"no, I'm fine." you replied, trying to reduce your shaking as you take the glass and chugged the water. You could only hope that your headache will subside soon. "do you have anything planned for today?" you asked, feigning cheerfulness. Iwaizumi glanced back at you worriedly before he sighed, flashing you a small smile.

"well, we have stargazing on your list so I was planning to do just that." Iwa sat next to you and stretched his arm over your shoulder. You giggled before you closed your eyes and nuzzled into him, wishing to store the last bit of your energy that you felt was seeping out at a rapid pace.

Iwaizumi could hope that it wasn't what he suspected. That you were just having an off-day. That you were okay, just like the last few weeks.

But that was all he could do. All he could do was hope.

The night air was colder than usual.

You pulled your thick cardigan closer to your chest and squeezed iwa's hand, hoping that his warmth would seep into you. Hajime looked back at you worriedly. "you okay? Dammit, we should've stayed home-"

"i'm fine, haji, it's just colder than usual." you lied, nudging him, telling him to keep walking.

You felt like you used up all of your energy climbing up the small hill where a picnic blanket was set-up on the very top, a small stereo playing Astronomy softly. You couldn't help but gasp in surprise. Maybe that wasn't a good idea, the lack of air in your lungs already making you dizzy. The gasp hid the shallowness of your breath from your already anxious boyfriend who helped you get settled on the blanket under the stars.

"just... Sit tight." iwaizumi took a deep breath before he stood in front of you, made a fist and pretended he was holding a mic as he sang along to Conan's soft voice.

"We've traveled the seas

We've ridden the stars

We've seen everything

From Saturn to Mars

As much as it seems

Like you own my heart

It's astronomy

We're two worlds apart"

He took your hand and pulled you up on your shaking feet. he got down on one knee then took out a velvet box. Your hands flew to your mouth. This can't be happening.

"(y/n), it might look like we don't have time but i know you can fight back and win. I can wait until then. So (y/n) (l/n), will you marry me?" he muttered to keep his voice from cracking. Your smile reached from ear to ear, nodding your head rapidly at a loss of words. Iwaizumi slipped the ring onto your finger and was about to pull you close into a hug when the unthinkable happened.

Your feet buckled under you, unable to support your weight anymore. Your breath was ragged and loud. You tried to suck in air to no avail. What was going on?

Your ears ring while black dots start to spread through your vision. The last thing you remembered was your now fiance's blurry figure in front of you, desperately trying to bring you back to him.

Cold. The cold just seeps into you, suffocates you until-

You woke up to the blinding lights of the hospital. Your tired eyes moved to observe the room. You felt someone squeezed your hand. You turned to see a sleepy iwaizumi slouched in one of those uncomfortable hospital chairs, his hand gripping yours tightly. Hajime jolted awake the second you squeezed his hand back.

"(y/n)!" he exclaimed in relief, bringing his head down and kissing the ring on your finger repeatedly. Little droplets littered your hand. Iwaizumi was crying. "i-i thought i lost you... You wouldn't wake up for days a-and-" he sobbed. You pulled him into your chest, letting him nuzzle into your weak figure.

That small reassurance that you still had that small fight left in you helped iwaizumi sleep that night.

It was only the beginning of hell for you.

For the next few weeks, iwaizumi couldn't do anything but watch as your once strong figure rapidly grew weaker by the day. He had no idea had to stop it.

He needed a miracle.

He picked up his phone, dialed a certain number and waited for them to answer. If iwaizumi needed a miracle, this was the guy to call.

Another week went by, you were looking out your window in boredom when your hospital room door opened. thinking it was another nurse, you used all your strength to crane your neck to look at the person who entered. Your eyes lit up when you saw Iwaizumi enter with the Argentina setter, Oikawa.

"tooru!" you cheerfully yelled. Oikawa immediately rushed toward you. The man was about to pounce on you but iwa came to the rescue just in time and pulled the setter away from your bed.

"what are you doing here?" you asked, wiping away the stray happy tears that accumulated in the corners of your eyes.

"simple!" oikawa said as he skipped back to the door and opened it to reveal matsukawa and hanamaki with an officiant. "i decided to provide a little bit of a miracle." You turned to iwaizumi who glowed pink beside you. Was this really happening?

Your little "ceremony" flew by too quickly for your liking. You wished you could just cherish this moment forever. How all of the former members of the volleyball team came in and gave their congratulations and told little anecdotes they remember about the early stages of your relationship, like the time hajime almost beaten up oikawa for flirting with you in high school or how iwaizumi accidentally hit you with his spike when he was staring a second too long.

The noise slowly died down to the beeps of your heart monitor connected to you. Iwaizumi sat beside you and kissed your hand once more. "we're officially married now." he whispered, not wanting to break the soft ambience of the room.

"yeah..." you leaned back weakly in your bed. A wave of fatigue suddenly hit you. Maybe it was because of the eventful day you've had.

"You gotta live through this if you want to enjoy our honeymoon." he joked, causing you to let you a soft giggle.

"i love you, haj."

"i love you too, baby..."

"We have a code blue!"

Iwaizumi shot out of his seat to be met by a slew of nurses bursting into your room. His eyes snapped toward your limp figure. No. Nonono. This cannot be happening. You were okay. You were laughing along with everyone. You were joking around. You promised to live, to be strong.

Why? Why did you let go now?

"sir, Please step outside of the room." a nurse said to him, hauling the trainer out the door and into the hallway. Iwaizumi dropped into one of the empty seats outside, burying his head in his hands. He prayed to every god he could think of, to spare your life.

But unfortunately, his prayers weren't answered.

When the doctor came out of your room with a somber look on his face. He already knew what happened. His tears silently flowed down his cheeks as his brain blocked out the doctor's voice, ringing growing louder and louder.

There was only one festering thought in his mind now and it was growing bigger the longer he stayed in that hallway. It kept nipping at him when he went back into the room to see your now lifeless body.

You were gone and he will never see you wake up again.

It all moved like a blur to hajime. Your family was as equally as distraught as he was. They offered their support to which Iwaizumi refused to take. At night he would imagine that you would come bursting into the room and cuddle with you and every time, he would feel tears prick his eyes when he would remember that it didn’t work like that.

The funeral wasn’t any better. Iwaizumi would acknowledge the typical condolence message here and there. He went out of his way to make his eulogy speech a bit more personal for your grieving family members and friends. He couldn’t stop his sobs when he watched as your casket got lowered into your final resting place. The pain felt unbearable.

He stood in front of your new and clean tombstone, tears pricking the corners of his eyes as he held (y/n) jr. In his other hand. He let out a shaky smile, the smile he usually reserved for you. He was going to miss you.

"don't worry love, we'll meet again." he whispered hoping you would hear him one last time. It was going to be hard to move on but he’s going to do everything in his power to pull himself back up and come to terms with reality and maybe to keep your memory alive.

And that's all! This was a real whirlwind and I didn't really anticipate it being this long! Hope you guys enjoyed this! Thanks for @tetsunormous for getting mad at me for spamming and beta reading! Requests are open so please don't be shy to leave anything in my inbox! Love you guys 💖💕❤️

General taglist (don’t be shy to comment your tumblr @ below): @tokyoghoose @macaronnv @reogou @midnightangelfox @wumboho @seiijixcia

#haikyuu x reader #haikyu x reader #haikyuu #haikyu #hajime iwaizumi #iwaizumi #hajime iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi angst #kaki writes

[the-apples-were-monitored]

12.28.20

So. 10 years.

Yeah, today is the 10 year anniversary of me making this blog. I’d previously been an Amy Pond roleplay blog, but I tired of that after a few weeks and deleted that and made this instead. It marked the beginning of the end for my DeviantART, which I deleted a few months later.

I can’t believe I’ve been on this site for 10 years, but also can’t imagine being anywhere else. This place is part of my routine now, and I can’t imagine life without this outlet. This bastion of Old Internet Anonymity. Sure, my drafts have been broken for 2 years, but that’s Tumblr.

Thank you to everyone who’s been with me over the years, even if we’ve fallen out of touch. Special thanks to @robincrowe, @empathetic-vibrations, and my gf @super-skitty who migrated with me from DeviantART back when I was still 10nant-Fangirl. Thanks to people like @doll-frakking-house who’ve been here almost as long. Thank you all.

If you want more content from me, I post music news/trivia as well as a song each day over on my music blog, the-music-dealer.

I also post frequently on Archive of Our Own under the name the-red-rabbit. I post...

Good Omens:

“This Was Originally Called ‘Temptation Waits’, But the Title Was Left in the Car”

Ineffable Wives AU focusing on the 6000 years.

“Child in a Seacave”

Some time after the narrowly averted apocalypse, Crowley receives a message from God. But will he agree to answer her? Written because I have trauma with my own parents, but I was keeping my trans readers in mind when I wrote this one.

“Crimson and Clover”

Aziraphale tries chat-up lines.

Good Omens Series:

As Heaven is Wide Series:

Part 1: As Heaven is Wide

Aziraphale and Crowley decide to take a post-apocalypse road trip to see the world, but it gets cut short when they come upon a teenage girl who (despite her protests) needs to be rescued. Things get more complicated when they find themselves once again in direct opposition of heaven, and they have to wonder if it's worth upending their shaky peace with heaven to keep her safe.

There are trigger warnings on this multi-chapter series, but I don't go into real graphic detail because I don't think the story needs that. As someone with trauma, I don't think it's productive to be incredibly graphic. I deal more in implications and off-screen for that type of material. (If you've read some of my other stuff, this one is positively tame compared to that.)

Part 2: Perfect

While Aziraphale finds himself quite comfortable with the trials of parenthood, Crowley finds that raising a teenager is more challenging than he'd expected.

Part 3: Going to Hell (In Progress and Updating today)

Sending their daughter to her first day at school was always going to be a challenge for Aziraphale and Crowley. After all, she still hasn't got a grip on her magic and the thought of being apart from her causes them some portion of anxiety. They just want her to enjoy her new life and fit in, but that's a little hard to do when a lost ghost appears to ask her for help.

Yeah, this one's definitely inspired by Buffy the Vampire Slayer, except instead of metaphors for growing up as a general thing, it's specifically metaphors for obstacles for healing from trauma.

Community:

“And a (Short) Movie”

The study group tries to define the word 'himbo'.

“Community: The Movie (One By One They All Just Fade Away)”

It's been 5 years since Abed Nadir left for Hollywood to pursue a career in film. When he receives a call in the dead of night from Greendale, Colorado, it becomes his responsibility to deliver the news to the rest of his old study group. He embarks on an epic journey to track down Troy Barnes on his boat.

Dean-dong, the Dean is dead.

But is he?

Jeff Winger isn't so sure. He enlists the help of his old "study buddy" Annie Edison to use her FBI skills to find out what really happened to Craig Pelton.

When the study group returns to Greendale, they find that the school has been bought out by Hot Topic. Britta, who liked Hot Topic back "before it sold out", immediately channels her grief into protesting it. But when she meets a fellow anarchist who has vowed to take down the chain from the inside, she's forced to contend with the fact that shouting opinions isn't the same as creating meaningful change.

I have one Hannibal/Willy Wonka fic that I wrote for fun: “Lollirot”

Willy Wonka is a humble man with a dream of making candy for all the children of the world. When he starts running out of ideas for new confections, he seeks help for his depression. His doctor, Hannibal Lecter, is a strangely charming man with unorthodox ideas for how a factory should be run. Before long, Will starts to experience paranoid delusions about his competitors and loses his grip on reality as he sinks deeper into self-imposed isolation with nobody but his doctor to guide him.

A prequel to the show Hannibal.

One Grinch fic: “How the Grinch Got Therapy”

Epilogue to How the Grinch Stole Christmas empathizing with the Grinch. Because as a person with religious trauma, especially centered around Christmas, I think it's about time that we stop shaming people for not having fun during Christmas. Some people won't celebrate and it's weird how we're all expected to assimilate.

And my magnum opus, the fic I’ve been working on off and on for 10 years even since my DeviantART days...

Doctor Who Fic Series:

Am I...Ginger?:

Season 1: Am I...Ginger?

The Doctor swore off companions after Journey's End, believing himself too dangerous to be around them. But while looking for members of the Trickster's Brigade, he stumbled upon a child of Torchwood that made him question all that.

Of course, there's another problem. He was warned that the Trickster had a weapon, one that could defeat him once and for all. He follows the clues to London, where he finds a nameless woman whose love of history does not include sharing her own. Could she be the weapon he was warned about? Is he just interested in her as a distraction from his own mortality? Can she be saved this time? Can any of them? Or are they doomed to life the way it was written?

(Set between the Wedding of Sarah Jane Smith and the Waters of Mars.)

(There are trigger warnings, but as always it only applies to one specific chapter and potential mentions. But this will deal with issues that people might find distasteful.)

Season 2: Am I...Ginger? The Mourning After (In Progress and Updating Today)

Picking up right from where season 1 left off.

"The Doctor's dead."

That's where this story left off. Despite many attempts to contact him, he's been nowhere to be found. But DOES that mean he's dead? The ragtag group of misfits he left behind keep having conflicting thoughts on the subject. Is he dead? Held hostage somewhere in need of rescue? Just avoiding them?

Just when they give up hope, the Doctor decides to crash his own funeral. Two funeral crashings in a row, that has to be a record for him. But can he still fit in the world he left behind, or has he changed too much? Is it even a good idea to try?

Set when Amy and Rory are on their honeymoon (between "A Christmas Carol" and "The Impossible Astronaut"). This is also just after "The Death of the Doctor" episode of the Sarah Jane Adventures. As usual, I'm playing fill-in-the-blanks with unexplored parts of canon.

...

10 years flew by. You guys have been there with me through some of the toughest parts of my life. I made this blog when I was still a 15 year old in an abusive home and it’s been with me ever since. So let’s hope the next 10 years will be better lmao.

[vincess-princess]

ex malo bonum

behold, the dumpsterfire of a fic i’ve been obsessing over for the last week.

Fandom: Motley Crue Characters, pairings: demon!Nikki Sixx, demon!Tommy Lee, demon!Mick Mars, fallen angel!Vince Neil, Nikki/Vince, elements of Tommy/Vince and hints of Nikki/Tommy Rating: Explicit Warnings (please pay attention!!!): violence, non-con, drug use mention, alcohol mention, self-harm tendencies, suicide attempts, murder Summary: Vince thought he knew where fallen angels go and what they become. But he never expected to go through something like that. A/N: I’m not religious at all and my entire knowledge of Christian canon comes from Jesus Christ Superstar and Bulgakov’s Master and Margarita. I was making up lore on the go and I dare assume almost all of it is completely wrong. If you’re offended by this, please don’t proceed!

As always, huge thanks to @polska-tankietka for editing this, love ya!

Chapter 1.

Word count: 2677

Warnings (for this particular chapter): violence, suicide attempts mention, alcohol mention, drug use mention

“Did it hurt?”

“What?” Vince blinked and looked up from his shot of whiskey. He was already on his fifth, but was only slightly tipsy (must have something to do with the quick regeneration thing). The shitty bar where he was drinking himself into oblivion was dimly lit, and he had to squint to make out the face of a stranger standing behind his shoulder. The stranger’s voice was pleasant, but there was something… unsettling in it. Off-putting. Hostile.

“Did it hurt when you fell from heaven?” he repeated smugly. His hand crawled onto Vince’s shoulder and clutched it. A hot, blinding spike of something that felt like electric shock went down Vince’s spine, and everything became so clear he wondered how in the world he hadn’t seen it coming. In his defense, they were faster than he thought.

“It did,” Vince raised his head and looked the demon straight in the eyes, curving his lips in disgust. “A lot.”

The first was a car, a truck going down a busy highway with a very convenient pedestrian bridge over it. Vince figured out the right moment and jumped, his white Heaven robes flapping like wings behind his back. When he woke up they were no longer white, but a dark red, the color he would have assumed to be his blood if he had found a single injury on his body. But there hadn’t been any.

He had to change his clothes after that, partly escaping humans too curious for their own good, partly no longer wanting to be reminded of what he had had and what he had lost.

“Drowning your sorrows in whisky, huh?” The demon pulled up a chair and plopped down on it, his hand sliding from Vince’s shoulder down onto his arm and staying there, grazing over the skin with his claws occasionally, oh so carefully. Vince didn’t pull his arm away from the grip, although every fiber of his being protested to the touch. He could reach that one pocket of his jacket with another hand just as easily. “If I were you, I would celebrate.”

“You aren’t me,” Vince retorted indifferently, turning away from the demon and focusing on his almost empty glass.

“Not yet, sweetie.” The demon grasped Vince’s chin with his fingers and turned his head back to face him. Vince shook his fingers off his chin with clear revulsion. “What a pretty thing you are. You know that? Have you already come across the human concept of beauty?”

“No,” Vince said listlessly. He couldn’t care less about the small talk, but the demon’s intentions still weren’t clear to him and asking directly felt weirdly untimely.

“You will,” the demon promised, moving closer to Vince, almost breathing into his ear, and Vince couldn’t help casting a quick look over him. Despite the lack of light, the demon’s eyes looked unnaturally green. “They’re completely obsessed over it. Starving themselves to death, wasting their entire salaries on beauty products, painting their faces until they are unrecognizable, squeezing their bodies into uncomfortable clothes. It’s so much fun. How did you manage to get such a good-looking body, though? All the angels I met looked like middle-aged accountants at best. Heaven is really obsessed over its employees’ purity.”

“Random distribution,” Vince murmured and downed his shot. The demon waved to the barista and showed him two fingers. A few moments later two shots of whisky were sent their way.

The second time, it was the height. Vince stood atop a twenty-story building and looked down at the busy street beneath, and everything was so little and insignificant. He didn’t have his wings anymore, but he could feel the rapture of flying one more time.

Vince woke up in the hole on the pavement the shape of which resembled that of his body. He had only a few scratches and not a single bone broken. He kept touching those scratches for the next hour until they healed.

Last time there were no injuries. Progress.

“I’m paying, baby.” The demon pulled a wallet out of the pocket of his leather jacket and slid two dollar-bills the barista’s way. “Enjoy your downfall. Did you already get the concept of money? Those humans turned pieces of metal and paper into their literal gods. They’re ready to die for it. How many of them, you think, are ready to die for an actual God, like real Jesus Christ, nowadays?”

His name out of the mouth of this despicable creature was like a string snapping in Vince’s chest, badly cutting his insides. “Don’t you dare speak His name,” he hissed, jerking his arm away from the demon’s grasp and moving his chair farther down the bar counter. If his gaze could kill, the demon’s body would already have been sprawled on the floor under the counter.

“Or what?” the demon stretched out his hand and wrapped his fingers around Vince’s elbow again, dragging him back in place. The chair legs gritted across the floor loudly, and Vince felt like all the eyes in the bar were on them now. The demon’s claws, painted in chipped black nail polish, were digging deep into his skin, but this time Vince didn’t try to wrestle away from his grip. This creature isn’t worthy of your anger, he reminded himself. “You’ll tell him and he’ll punish me? Funny. He no longer needs you, honey. That’s why he got rid of you. Threw you out like a toy he got fed up with.”

“Shut up,” Vince bit his lip and looked away. Every word slashed his soul like a sword, leaving deep, bleeding, unhealable cuts. “Stop that. Just-“ too early, a warning flashed across his mind, but he shook it off. The demon was clearly mocking him, and Vince wasn’t going to put up with that. “just tell me what you want from me.”

The third time, there were drugs. He tried regular pills from the pharmacy first - he heard they can cause death when consumed in excessive amounts. He woke up in the public toilet of some fast-food restaurant, in the puddle of his own vomit, with people banging on the door and shouting. Then there were other drugs, which people buy not in clean, white pharmacies with smiling women in doctor’s robes, but in dark alleys and night clubs. People didn’t want to give it to Vince without money, and he could no longer use any of his previous powers, so getting them was one hell of a job. All of which was in vain, because Vince only got a short and sharp sting of pleasure across his body before descending into darkness, and then woke up, this time in a hospital, surrounded by dumbfounded doctors.

“Nothing much,” the demon smiled sweetly and almost gently tucked a stray golden lock behind Vince’s ear. The demon’s own hair was pitch-black and wild, framing the sides of his face and falling onto his forehead, but still not managing to hide the uncanny gleam in his eyes. “You’re a pretty little thing, and I like pretty little things. Let’s hook up, and I’ll leave you alone.”

“Hook up?” Vince frowned, and the demon laughed sincerely.

“Sweet innocence. Don’t worry, you’ll learn. It won’t take long. You’ll enjoy it. It’s one of the things humans do all the time, to have fun or kids or both, or aiming for one and getting the other.”

Vince gave him a long, hard look, for the first time this evening. He foresaw that – well, not exactly that, but something of a kind – and the blade dipped in holy water was now warming in the pocket of his jacket, reacting to the demonic presence. Killing a demon was hard and usually disapproved of by the authorities – the privilege of killing belonged only to high-ranked angels, ones who could withstand the temptation of sin inevitably coming with it. It was even harder for a fallen angel devoid of the Lord’s blessing. But it was possible.

His human vessel was shorter and weaker than that of the demon. But he had the blade. He had the advantage.

“Checking me out, huh?” The demon traced his fingertips along Vince’s jawline. Vince didn’t flinch back. “I gotta say, I am extremely lucky with my current vessel. It gets me all the chicks.”

“My human form is male.”

“Doesn’t matter. You’re pretty, you qualify. Blond too. Love blonds.” The demon grinned, his teeth slightly sharper than human’s, a little bit too many of them. Devil is in the details, Vince recalled.

“Why don’t you get any other human then? Why me?”

“Honey, what demon wouldn’t want to bang a freshly fallen angel? It’s not every day that we have visitors from up there. You reek of Heaven, blondie. There’s still a lot of it in you. I wanna know how it feels.”

The demon licked his lips, eyeing Vince up as though he wanted to eat him whole. Vince shuddered but didn’t look away. He wasn’t afraid of him, after all.

“Sweetheart, I’m not gonna wait for you to come to terms with it. Don’t test my patience.”

“What if I refuse?” Vince carefully moved the untouched shot away, barely brushing the glass with the tip of a finger. The demon didn’t comment on it, but his gaze lingered on the rejected whisky a little longer than necessary.

“Then there will be a very loud and unpleasant scene that will surely feature in every newspaper by the end of the day. I feel like you still don’t fully understand,” the demon leaned closer to Vince and almost whispered in his ear, “I will get you anyway. You can only choose how, by force or by your own will.”

Vince closed his eyes, suppressing the urge to grip the handle of the blade through the jacket. He knew, of course, that demons couldn’t be trusted with a conversation, let alone an agreement. He shouldn’t have answered him in the first place. On the other hand, in this case. the demon wouldn’t have left him alone and would have forced him to answer. He couldn’t get rid of him with God’s power – he was no longer able to use it, neither could he deal with him with the help of simple, brutal force. Because he, as any angel, was against violence in general, not because the demon was half a head taller than him and had claws and sharp teeth.

Maybe it was better to just submit. Maybe the demon would be too distracted during this “hook-up”, whatever he was going to do to him, and wouldn’t notice Vince pulling out the blade. Maybe.

Submit and just let him do whatever he wants? something whispered quietly to him inside his head, something the invisible presence of which Vince could feel but only now got to hear. So you would let the forces of evil run amok because you’re not supposed to beat them?

Yes, Vince cut the something off and turned to the demon.

“Alright,” he said quietly. “It won’t take long, will it?”

“It will take as much as I need, angel, and by the end you will beg for more,” the demon promised complacently and pulled him up from the chair. “Come on. My car is in the parking lot.”

“Isn’t that kinda… uncomfortable?” Vince raised his eyebrow, for a second actually trying to imagine two whole people trying to find enough room on the backseat.

The demon burst into laughter, but the grip on Vince’s arm remained tight. “That’s the point, baby! Quick and dirty, exactly what you angels deserve. Come on.” He headed to the door, dragging Vince along.

Once they were outside, Vince lingered a little to inhale crisp, fresh night air - most of the Earth smells were still new to him, and some of them were quite pleasant. The demon interpreted it differently.

“Nervous? Don’t worry, all virgins are. You at least will probably be the first fallen angel to get rid of his virginity so quickly. Some never even get to experience it.”

“Why?”

“Because they’re ugly as hell, haven’t you heard me? I’m telling you,” he turned to Vince and poked him in the chest, “I’m telling you, this vessel is gonna be your best asset on this Earth. Everyone likes beautiful people. It’ll make your life down here easier. Actor, singer, model, hooker – choose whatever you want. Oh, here’s my car.” The demon pointed at a black, relatively small car in the farthest slot of the parking lot. “Seems small, but I can assure you, it fits our needs perfectly.”

“Your needs.”

“Eh, stop playing Virgin Mary. Mary Magdalene had a much better time before Jesus showed up. The girl was going places.” The demon grinned at the sight of indignation on Vince’s face. They approached the car, but instead of opening the door the demon backed Vince up against it, grabbed his collar and pulled him into a sloppy kiss.

Vince didn’t get to know what it felt like. A belt wrapped around his throat and yanked his body backward, hitting his back against the car roof and pinning him down to it. Vince’s hands flew up to the belt, scratching on it in a fruitless attempt to loosen it, but the assaulter was strong, stronger than him. And a demon as well, because the mere touch of his hands sent another spike of hot, buzzing electricity down Vince’s spine.

“Hold him!” The demon who brought him here tried to grab his wrists, got a kick in the stomach and had to take a second to drag himself off the ground. The second time he tried to grab him Vince was prepared.

The demon gasped and recoiled, his hands jerking up to his chest where the blade was now buried, barely audible sizzling coming out from the wound. The one behind Vince’s back almost rushed to help him, loosening his grip, but was stopped by a fierce glare of then-green eyes, now a solid black. Instead, he grabbed a fistful of Vince’s hair and banged his head on the car roof so hard it dented - the head or the roof, Vince didn’t really understand, because the world blurred in front of his eyes.

The next thing he remembered was lying on the cold pavement, hot blood dripping onto his eyes. A stray lock was hanging in front of his face, all smeared in blood as well. His hands were tied by the same belt that had been wrapped around his neck. Two demons stood above him, both black-haired and tall, their eyes now pitch-black, both radiating rage so intense it heated up the air around them.

“Fucking bitch,” the one from the bar spit out. “Who do you think you are to use this?” he raised the blade carefully by the handle. It was still covered in his blood, which oozed slowly from the cut in his chest and stained his shirt. Apart from that, it didn’t seem to cause much harm. “You’re no longer the warrior of God, blondie. You’re the same as us now. Wanna see?”

He kicked Vince in the side to roll him onto his back and then drove the blade right into his shoulder. Vince thought he knew what it would feel like: he had tried cutting himself before.

He didn’t expect it to burn, the same way it did in the demon’s flesh.

The demons didn’t even let him scream out his pain. They put something sticky on his mouth and threw him onto the backseat. The new, taller one, whose face Vince hadn’t managed to make out, got behind the wheel, and the green-eyed one sat at the back with Vince, his hand gripping his arm firmly, claws digging into his skin and leaving deep red marks.

Vince didn’t notice the pain. Tears streamed down his face silently while he was frantically, desperately searching for that connection he had always had deep inside his soul, the connection to Him.

He searched, and searched, and found nothing.

#motley crue fanfiction #vince neil #nikki sixx #supernatural au #angel/demon au #ex malo bonum #motley crue slash fanfiction #tommy lee #(an honorable mention) #tw: alcohol #tw: drugs #tw: suicide attempt #tw: violence #please stay safe babes! #damn this fic just went and took over my life and i'm so for it #haven't written dark stuff in a while and damn did i miss it #vince is gonna suffer a lot #sorry baby :( #i still love you #my last updates got not so many notes and considering the number of warnings on this one there will probably be none #but please if you read it let me know if you liked it #this fic is important to me on some whole different level than wilwif #not that wilwif is not important: it is and just as much #just......they're so completely different #yes i will go back to wilwif once i finish this if anyone cares #i just need to get this one out of my system #anyway im shutting up #also will post it on ao3 #AH SHIT I FORGOT #tw: dubcon

[sims-gayming]

The Sims 4 | Royal Legacy Challenge

Hi! I know there are some challenges like this around, but I really wanted to create my own version and decided to share with everyone! This challenge is heavily inspired by llazyneph’s Royalty Mod – the mod isn’t required to play the challenge, but both fits really well together.

In this challenge, your objective is to play with a Royal Family for ten generations and build up your lineage’s prestige with actions and decisions you will make during the course of this challenge. Good luck!

 Concepts

 Monarch: the leader of the Royal Family. This title is inherited by his offspring when he/she dies. Monarchs may only work in the Politics career.

Heir: the child of the Monarch who will inherit the title of Monarch. The heir is decided by the Kingdom Laws. Heirs may work in other careers until they become Monarch.

Consort: the person who will pair with the Monarch and bring in the next generation of the family. Consorts may work.

Royal Family: the family of the Monarch. They are considered nobles, but not every noble is royal.

Noble: Sims from families/households selected by the player. Must represent the minor part of the world’s population. Nobles may work only in the following careers: Politics, Secret Agent, Astronaut, Business, Military, Doctor, Social Media and Style Influencer. Teen jobs are not allowed.

Commoner: Sims that are not part of the selected households. Must represent the major part of the world’s population.

Prestige: the points in this challenge that represent the reputation of the Royal Family.

Setting Up

Your first step is to create your Royal Family. You Monarch must be a YA, Adult or Elder (if male) or YA or Adult (if female). You may create other Sims to be Consort, parents or siblings of your Monarch, but he/she must not have an offspring yet. To start, you’ll have $ 500.000 (use cheats for this) to build or buy your house. Choose wisely because you must not move during the challenge.

Second, you must choose, download or create other noble families for your save. Since you set this families as nobles, every other Sims in your save are now considered commoners. I suggest at least three or four families for your kingdom. Also, I suggest you to mark the noble families as Your Households, so you will always know who they are.

Finally, you may choose, download or create other Royal and noble families. They’ll represent the noblemen of other kingdoms. In my game, I created a Royal Family and three noble families for each world available. This is not mandatory, but will help you to have a fitting dating pool for your Sims.

 Basic Rules

You must not use cheats or mods that give you advantages on the challenge. I recommend using the Royalty Mod and MC Command Center.

Lifespan must be normal and aging must be on for active and inactive households.

You must only play with your Royal Family in this save. Again, I recommend MC Command Center to create some sort of story progression in your save. If you don’t use mods, you may access the other noble families really fast just to marry and procreate Sims (or you can do that using CAS in Edit Household on the map view).

Before start your game, pick your Kingdom Laws below and stick to it. There are conditions to change your Laws that will be explained below.

This challenge ends when the 10th generation’s heir ascend as Monarch. Your objective is to build up your lineage Prestige until this point. If your Monarch dies without any heir or if your Royal Family reach -10.000 Prestige Points, you fail the challenge.

Marriage & Inheritance

Marriage and inheritance are very important aspects of monarchies. You may marry your Sims as you wish as long as allowed by your Kingdom Laws, but keep in mind that marrying commoner will have a great impact in your Prestige. The Laws also will say if your Sim will move out of the family or if the partner will move in.

There are also Laws that will discuss the matter of inheritance. The Heir will be the first eligible child of your current Monarch. If your Monarch dies without any child, the throne goes to a younger sibling – this, however, will not count as a new generation. If there is no one to inherit the throne, you fail the challenge.

Children born outside of marriage are considered illegitimate and can only become legitimate if the Monarch marries the non-royal parent. Only legitimate children can be named heirs. You may legitimize a child if your Monarch and the child have 100% relationship, but it will cost you some Prestige.

Optional: It is expected that Royal children will have the best education. Toddlers must have at least one skill level 5 or 3 skills level 3, while children and teens must have at least B grade in school. If you fail this, you must randomize a new trait in the moment of the child birthday. You may only pick traits if your kids study hard enough.

The Kingdom Laws

You must pick an option for every category below – those will be your kingdom laws. You may change your laws if you meet some conditions. It will also cost some Prestige, of course.

Lineage

Matrilineal: girls come before boys in the line of succession. In addition, when a Sim marries, he/she will become part of the family of the wife.

Patrilineal: boys come before girls in the line of succession. In addition, when a Sim marries, he/she will become part of the family of the husband.

Equality: gender is not considered in the matter of succession. In addition, when a Sim marries, his/her partner will always move in to the Royal Family.

Marriage

Arranged: members of the Royal Family may only marry if the Monarch have at least 50% relationship with the fiancée and his/her parents (if they have).

Free: members of the Royal Family may marry as they wish.

Succession

Traditional: only Sims related by blood to the current Monarch are eligible to be heir. Royals may adopt, but adopted kids won’t be in the line of succession.

Modern: adopted kids will be in the line of succession after blood-related kids.

Inheritance

Birth: the first eligible child of the Monarch will be heir and become Monarch once his/her parent dies.

Merit: the most talented child will be the heir. This means that when a Monarch dies, you must sum every skill point his/her children currently have (example: 7 logic + 3 culinary + 2 piano = 12 points). The new Monarch will be the child who have more skill points.

Strength: when the Monarch dies, every eligible heir must fight for the throne. The one that defeats every other claimant will be the new Monarch.

Taxes

Low: the Royal Family can collect $2.500 in taxes in Sundays. However, it will cost -50 Prestige Points.

Medium: the Royal Family can collect $10.000 in taxes in Sundays. However, it will cost -100 Prestige Points.

High: the Royal Family can collect $50.000 in taxes in Sundays. However, it will cost -500 Prestige Points.

Rulership

Democratic: You may change the Kingdom Laws if you have 100% friendship with all the leaders of the noble families of your Kingdom. It will cost you 1.000 Prestige Points. In addition, Monarchs will be deposed if they have 10 negative relationships or half negative reputation.

Moderate: You may change the Kingdom Laws if you have at least 50% friendship with at least half of the leaders of the noble families of your Kingdom. It will cost you 1.000 Prestige Points. In addition, Monarchs will be deposed if they have 20 negative relationships or full negative reputation.

Authoritarian: You may change the Kingdom Laws whenever you want. It will cost you 3.000 Prestige Points. Monarchs can’t be deposed.

Prestige

The Royal Family will start the challenge with 500 Prestige Points. Some actions and decisions made during the challenge will add or remove Prestige Points from your family. Prestige Points will only be earned and lost by members of the active family. Remember: if at some point you reach -10.000 Prestige Points, you fail the challenge.

House & Finance

+2 for having a Maid

+2 for having a Nanny

+2 for having a Gardner

+5 for having a Butler

+5 for each fully-upgraded item in your house

+50 for every $500.000 your house worth

+100 for having S1.000.000 in the household funds

-10 every fire that stars on your house (-50 if someone dies)

-100 every time lights/water are shut off

-500 every time your household funds reach 0

 Life & Death

+50 for marring another noble (+10 for marring a member of another Royal Family)

+10 for each legitimate child

+20 for each toddler that max out every skill

+20 for each child that grows up with an A

+25 for each child that completes an aspiration

+20 for each teen that grows up with an A

+20 for each teen that grows up with max positive character value

+50 for each Sim that completes an aspiration

+50 for each Sim that reaches the top of his/her career

+10 for each Old Age death

+15 for each family member memorialized in a painting

-10 for changing aspiration

-30 for each child or teen that grows up with an F

-30 for each teen that grows up with at least 1 max negative character value

-50 for each sim fired

-50 for every death excluding Old Age

-50 for having a child before marriage

-75 for each illegitimate child

-100 for marring a commoner (-100 if he/she works in your household)

-100 for being caught cheating

-250 for divorcing

-500 for legitimating a child

-1.000 for each child taken away from the household

 Miscellaneous

+2 for each pet born in the household

+2 for each bronze social event

+5 for being good friends with a noble from another household (+5 if best friends)

+5 for each silver social event

+10 for each gold social event (+10 if royal marriage or coronation banquet)

+20 for every best-seller book or masterpiece

+50 for each Sim that has full positive reputation

+100 for each Royal Family member that becomes a 5-star celebrity

-20 for each pet taken away

-30 for each time a Sim has a bladder/energy/hygiene failure in public (-20 if during a social event)

-50 for each failed social event

-100 for each Sim that has full negative reputation

#sims #the sims #the sims 4 #sims 4 #sims challlenge #legacy challenge #royal legacy challenge #ts #ts4 #challenge #royals #royality

[stainyourhands]

29. “I thought you were dead.” JonJon

Lovett has a routine.

The rooster, its vocal box deep and scratchy with the disease, crowing a mating cry into the dawn light is Lovett’s least favorite part of it.

Mornings have never quite been Lovett’s thing. When he was still working in politics, he’d work until most of his colleagues’ alarm clocks rang, then close his blackout curtains. When he was working in Hollywood, one p.m. was the new seven a.m. When he was working at Crooked, even after he started joining Tommy at that unbearable - and, he realizes now, pointless - cycling class, he waited until the East Coast made the first round of hot Twitter takes before he really joined the world.

But now, blackout curtains are a luxury Lovett can’t afford, Twitter disappeared with the actual blackout, and Lovett’s in the best shape of his life with no-one, not even that damn rooster, to share it with.

It serves him right, Lovett thinks some days, that all he needed to stick to a diet was the extinction of all deep friers, pizza ovens, and delivery workers. He’s not even sure he remembers what a Whopper tasted like. He’s pretty sure he misses them, though.

The rooster crows again, a sad, strangled sound that scares every animal for a mile around. Pundit lifts her head from the end of the bed, whoofing back half-heartedly before dropping her head again.

Lovett laughs, scratching between her ears as he slides out of the covers, stretching his arms above his head. He grabs the knife from his bedside table and scratches a mark into his bedpost.

436 marks.

436 days since civilization bit off its own nose to spite the face of progress.

When the authorities first started to warn of a string of bizarre cases, they warned against forming a routine like the one Lovett has now. Trump’s commerce secretary begged people to go out, do things, be productive members of the world economy even as bodies were piling up in the CDC morgue. Talk show hosts and news anchors and Oprah urged people to fight the fear, fear isn’t productive even as the virus was spreading through Europe with the force of the Black Plague. Doctors spoke into every microphone they could find, warning that routine is the first sign of illness even as they knew they were no closer to a vaccine than they are to rebuilding civilization on fucking Mars.

Lovett still remembers the first zombie he saw. He remembers standing on the sidewalk, watching the middle-aged woman who used to give Pundit treats from her stoop repeat her morning ritual - a lather, rinse, repeat of mundane tasks like brushing her teeth and brewing coffee - until there was no coffee to brew and there was no water to brush her teeth with and there was almost no skin on her bones.

That was day 137.

Lovett’s lost count of the zombies he’s seen since.

Lovett wonders, sometimes, if someone stood on his sidewalk, watched him go through his routine, if they’d be able to tell that he’s still healthy. If only in the most literal sense of the word.

Pundit hops off the bed and stretches at his feet with a disapproving yip. Lovett snorts and pets her side. “Yeah, yeah, let’s see what we can scrounge up for breakfast, huh?”

Pundit barks happily, dancing around his ankles as he reaches for the last clean shirt he has - a threadbare red FotP shirt that had seen better days eight months ago - and pulls it on as they head through the house. The sun is just rising over the horizon, illuminating the furniture Lovett had bought when he moved to LA so many years ago, when he thought furniture was disposable and his life was only on an upwards trajectory.

It’s wearing out now. Lovett’s been marking out furniture on his scavenging missions, rearranging his living room in his head. There’s a loveseat in a house around the corner that’s a pristine red leather that he’s been coveting for weeks. If he can only find a way to bring it back. He’s debating skateboards. Four of them. It might just work.

His pantries are looking a little bare, too, as he opens them and roots around for the can of chicken he knows he’s been saving for Pundit. He mixes it in a bowl and puts half in her dish, sitting the floor so he can eat the other half next to her. “Not so bad, huh? I’ve still got a few tricks up my sleeve.”

In the distance, the rooster hoots again. The disease can’t tell sunrise from eight a.m. The disease only knows routine.

Lovett sighs, calling “we know, we’re up! You crazy fucking bird,” before he can regret it. Before long, the rooster will be gone and Lovett will miss him, too.

Pundit finishes licking her bowl and crosses to the door, already pawing at her leash. Lovett’s honestly not sure if he’s trained her or if she’s trained him, but he gets up. He shoves his feet into his shoes and reaches for his backpack. He’s pretty sure there’s a street two miles west of them that is mostly untouched. If he’s lucky, he might be able to restock his soups and beans.

He pulls on Pundit’s leash, smiling at her “we’ve got a long walk today,” as he opens the door.

And freezes.

Mentally, Lovett makes a checkmark next to the 436th mark on his bedpost. He’s made it through 435 days and now, on the 436th, he’s finally lost it. He’s made it through the initial food shortages and the power outages, through the cutting of the phone lines and the end of their oil supply, through friend after friend falling ill, through more funerals than he can count. Lovett made it through all of that, only to fall ill on the most innocuous day of the most innocuous month of the most innocuous year.

Because standing on his doorstep is a hallucination.

He’s looking a little worse than he does in Lovett’s dreams. His hair is long around his ears, his face half-obscured by a scraggly beard that could use trimming if not a full shave, his clothes thin and threadbare and a large khaki duffle slung over his shoulder. But Lovett would recognize those eyes anywhere.

Jon Favreau has stepped out of Lovett’s dreams and onto his front porch.

“Lovett,” the hallucination says. His voice is sore with disuse, his tongue darting out to lick at his cracking bottom lip. “Lovett.”

Pundit rises onto her hindlegs, her front paws resting on his thigh. He’s a three-dimensional hallucination, then. Sometimes, Lovett’s mind amazes even himself.

The hallucination rubs her ears, murmuring something low and unsteady, before looking directly at Lovett again. “I’ve been walking for a year and a half to fucking get to you. Are you doing to let me in or just stare?”

Lovett swallows. “I didn’t know that hallucinations needed permission.”

The hallucination laughs and, even under the beard and the three layers of dirt, it sounds so much like Jon’s laugh that tears fill Lovett’s eyes. “Feel like a hallucination, somedays, but, I assure you, I’m completely real.”

Lovett shakes his head. “That’s not possible.”

The hallucination holds out his arm. His fingers are thinner than Lovett remembers, but they’re still wider at the knuckles, still tan and long and the fixtures of Lovett’s dreams. “Pinch me. Come on. Hallucinations can’t be pinched right?”

Lovett shakes his head. “This is ridiculous.” But he steps forward, reaches for the arm - fuck, it’s solid, his imagination is fucking amazing - and pinches, hard.

The hallucination - Jon, Lovett’s brain supplies, hope rising from the deep, dark recesses Lovett’s pushed it into for the past 435 days - yelps.

“See?” Jon asks, stepping forward. His body is warm. His chest is solid. Pundit barks at him, recognition and excitement warring in her wiggling body. “I’m me, I’m here, I made it to you, just like I promised.”

Lovett shakes his head, his voice choked and desperate, “I thought you were dead.”

“No,” Jon whispers, closing the last inches between them. He smells like sweat and smoke and dirt but, under it all, just a hint of Jon. Lovett sways forward. Lovett never wants to stop smelling him. “How could I die, when I still had you to get back to?”

Lovett makes a pained noise, pulling at Jon’s neck, tugging him down and into a kiss.

436 days after the world ended, Lovett starts living again.

#this took a turn #semi-predictably #jonjon #my first writing meme #podsa

[annakie]

It took three and a half months, but I’ve finished my Doctor Who Rewatch.

It’s time to talk about seasons 10, 11, overall wrapup thoughts and some best/worst lists.  Very long post below.

I started doing this back at the end of August as more of a joke when I was going back and cleaning the terrible cringe stuff off the first few months of my blog, then ended up taking that project from when I started the blog in May, 2011 until late 2016.  I realized that I had too much going on IRL right now to revisit my life at the end of 2016 when things took a sharp turn the wrong way, so I haven’t picked that back up again.  I still might at some point.

After the start of the nostalgia tour I:

Cried about Doomsday

Still hated the Manhattan episodes but renewed my love for one of my favorite characters of all time.

Reflected about Martha Jones and being an overly-zealous defender of a fictional character

Cried a lot over meeting and losing River Song in the span of an hour and a half.

Made my way through Season 4 and found myself still mostly loving the show.

Finished Season 4 and was starting to tire of Ten but knew I had more content to get through.

Didn’t post again til I was done with Amy and Rory.  Loved Amy, Rory and River even more, especially Rory.

Watched an episode I remembered I didn’t like just because of the guest actors.  Only marginally helped the episode.

Disliked the second half of season 7 even more than I used to.  Felt meh about Clara.

Warmed to Clara more in seasons 8 and 9.  Still, was ready to see her go.  Loved Twelve, though the first half of season 8 continued to be rough.  Adored the Husbands of River Song for the 6th+ time.

 Took a brief moment to love Bill.

Full disclosure on the rewatch: I skipped most of Fear Her except the first and last few minutes, and actually haven’t gotten back to Waters of Mars or the one 11 Christmas Special with the kids who’s father dies.  I may or may not pick those up in the next week or two.

So tonight I finished rewatching all of Thirteen’s episodes and wanted to talk a bit more about Bill, and then a lot about Thirteen, and some general thoughts about the whole rewatch.

Bill Potts is too good for this world.  I remembered loving her during her season but was blown away on the rewatch with how much I loved her, and almost all of her season.  Her energy, her story, her smile, it’s infectious.  It’s infuriating that so many people didn’t watch Bill because wow she deserved a lot more attention that I feel like she got, and also I feel like the show itself turned a real corner that season.  Season 9, yes, definitely better than 8 and 7.5.  But It’s like Moffat or the writers in general kinda grocked into several important things and made the show more progressive and less cringe?  

There wasn’t an episode I thought was bad, even the more filler episodes like the one in space with the air being a commodity was tense and fun.  I’m not sure I’d skip a single episode.

And then Bill, I think, ends up getting an even shittier deal than Martha in her season.  Left alone for ten years in a shithole mopping up floors, only to be turned into a cyberman and get left extremely traumatized, and sacrifice herself.  A very good story.  A very sad and frustrating ending.  Except that she does get to “transform” and travel the universe with Heather.

Maybe she did eventually go back home and finish living her life from not long after she left in the TARDIS the last time -- it’s entirely possible.  The Memory-Bill in Twice Upon a Time (the Twelve & One crossover) remembered traveling with Heather, which means her memory was taken from some point AFTER.  So maybe she got to be an ethereal being for a long time, and then eventually went home to Earth.  Or maybe she’s still out there traveling the stars with Heather.  Either way, she deserves a good life, and a good ending, even if we never know the true ending.

Twelve -- I love him.  Again, he had a really rough start but Capaldi is an amazing actor and he owned the role. I don’t think it’s actually possible to rank my favorite doctors from the new Who era, they’re all different, all great.  And Missy -- such an amazing villain.  Paired with Simms-Master was so, extremely fun, but even on her own, I think she’s now my favorite incarnation of The Master.  (I’ve only seen a few episodes of Old-Who with Delgado, and I really love Delgado’s Master as well.)  

Nardole was also a fun addition to the season.  I know technically he was considered a full companion and enjoyed him when he was there, but tbh, to me it was all about Bill.

But hey, when Twelve left, it was a good time for him to go -- I really think three seasons is the sweet spot for length of a Doctor.  I was so ready for Thirteen and The Fam.

I remembered loving Thirteen when her episodes were airing and, I was right to.  Jodie Whittaker is so good -- I never doubt for a second that she’s The Doctor.  The show one again feels very different with a new doctor / companions / showrunner.  I honestly loved the lack of Doctor-Angst in the season.  Thirteen is so much more brightness and sunshine and I think it was a good way to swing the Doctor after Twelve.  I also liked that there were a few comments about changing genders, a little bit of frustration from noticing how people treated her differently, but it was neither an earthshattering thing that made EVERYTHING DIFFERENT nor was it a non-event.  I really think they handled it well.

I will say that I think some of the critics were right, that the season itself could have used a bit more of an arc.  Not a heavy arc, like seasons five and six had, but a bit more than Tim Shaw showing up in the first and last episodes of the season.  It looks like next season is going to have that.

The arc that was there though really came from Graham and Ryan’s grief about Grace and their relationship growing.  Honestly, I remember when we learned that one of the new companions was going to be a 60-ish year old dude I wasn’t looking forward to that at all, but honestly, I love Graham.  He’s an actual good guy, he loves deeply, he’s allowed to show his emotions, he handles things WELL.  He’s not perfect but also I felt like they wrote his character so well, he wasn’t an arrogant guy expecting everyone to follow his orders, he cares deeply for Ryan and even had some great scenes with Yaz.  

Ryan and Yaz are both also just so fantastic.  I loved getting to spend time with Yaz’s family both current and past.  I actually learned a little history in the episode that took place in Pakistan (and loved having a benevolent alien storyline there, love that episode so much).  I also loved that they allowed Ryan to show grief and sadness, and vulnerability too.  

I was definitely feeling the 13/Yaz vibes on the rewatch, and although I wouldn’t say I’d be upset if they did end up doing a Ryan/Yaz storyline, I also wouldn’t be upset if they didn’t do any romance storylines at all.  I didn’t miss it this season, and 13/Yaz seemed more likely than anything.

I also loved that they took on racism in a couple of big ways this series.  I felt like the only big swing-and-miss episode was Ker-Blam! where they were so close to really hammering down a good message in the episode and then it felt like Jeff Bezos himself came in and rewrote the last 10 minutes.

TBH there were a couple of episodes that I had COMPLETELY forgotten about, especially the one with Chris North and the big spiders.  Like while I was watching it I had a vague memory of seeing it before, but not up until then.  I’d also forgotten about the New Year’s episode last year with Ryan’s dad.  I only remembered to watch it because after the final episode I was like “Wait, wasn’t Ryan’s dad supposed to be in this season?” and so I went to hunt for the episode.

SO... that’s it.  I was actually a little shocked last night when I finished up the New Year’s episode and realized... I was DONE.  I made it back through eleven seasons and... it was worth it.  

Some final thoughts... and I’m just picking a few things out here off the top of my head, I wasn’t keeping a list all the way through so I’m sure I’m going to think of other things after hitting Post, but here we go.

---------

COMPANION RANKINGS: God Tier: Martha Jones

Faves: Bill Potts, Rory Williams, River Song

I love you so much: Donna Noble, Amy Pond, The Fam (All together!), Jack Harkness, Mickey Smith, Wilfred Mott

Very very Good: Rose Tyler, Nardole

I Still Like You: Clara Oswald

---------

FAVE SEASON: I mean, it’s still gonna be Martha’s season with an honorable mention of the second half of 4.

If you take Martha Jones out of the equation, it’d probably be either 6 through 7.0, or Bill’s season.

LEAST FAVORITE:  The second half of 7, for sure, and the first half of 8 is kinda rough.  It’d be easy to say season 1, as well, but I don’t think that’s entirely fair, as I think the age of the show really shows there and there was a lot of getting-on-their feet they had to do.  There’s still a lot of good there, you just have to look for it harder.

---------

Favorite Specials: 

The Husbands of River Song, #1 favorite no question

The Day of the Doctor a close second. 

Honorable mention to the Night of The Doctor for the canonical return of Eight.  Seriously, the first time I saw that it may have been the single most joyous moment of New Who for me.

Least Favorite:

I mean, I haven’t rewatched two of them yet since I remember not liking them.  

Also Voyage of the Damned was just even worse than I remembered it.

I Cried The Hardest:

Amy and Rory’s leaving in The Angels Take Manhattan

River’s death in the Library

The end of Doomsday

Danny’s death

The end of Vincent and the Doctor

Prem’s death in Demons of the Punjab, maybe the only single-episode character death that hit me that hard.

Happiest Tears: 

Martha leaves the Doctor

The group in the TARDIS towing Earth home in Journey’s End

Twelve and River get 24 years together

Ryan calls Graham “Grandad”

Jackie and Alt-Pete meet/”reunite”

Heather shows up and... “saves” Bill, they go off on adventures.

Best Twists: 

John Simms Return at the end of season ten.  

YANA is the Master

Oswin is actually a Dalek

Heaven is run by Missy, and the Cybermen. (Damn I really love twists concerning the Master don’t I?)

Bill discovers she IS a Cyberman

Loudest cheers: 

Mickey showing up in Doomsday

Martha laughs at the Master

Rory’s speech at the beginning of A Good Man Goes to War

The Doctor punches a racist who insulted Bill

Best dramatic moments: 

Jack and the Doctor talk about Rose in Utopia

Twelve takes several billion years to punch through a wall

Just This Once, Everybody Lives!

Turn Left

The Doctor says goodbye Idris in The Doctor’s Wife

Missy and the Master’s mutually assured destruction.

Biggest Laughs for a good reason: 

The entire poison scene in the Unicorn and the Wasp

Basically everything about the Doctor attempting to be normal in The Lodger.

Right, putting Hitler in the Cupboard.

Doctor, when I’m on a date, do not put the Pope in my bedroom.

Biggest Cringe: 

Penis-head half-human Dalek

Concrete blowjobs

Anytime a lady slapped/hit a guy not in self-defense

Old goblin Ten / Jesus Ten in Last of the Time Lords

Most of The End of Time part 1

Eleven forces a kiss on Jenny in The Crimson Horror (THAT deserved the slap.)

There’s a lot of things I could point out in season 1 but I’m grading season 1 on a curve.

Favorite non-companion recurring characters: 

Danny Pink

Brian Williams

Jackie Tyler

Worst Villians: 

“Love And Monsters”

“Fear Her” 

The eye-crud sleep monster with Twelve

I kinda wanna say the Daleks are so overdone it’s hard to get excited about them anymore, though I did kinda like what they did in “Resolution” (13′s New Years episode last year.)

OK I honestly don’t know if I want to put “A sentient universe who is in the form of a large frog and just wants a BFF” in best or worst but I feel it belongs SOMEWHERE.

Best Villians:

Missy

Whatever the fuck that thing is in Midnight

House

Got a Raw Deal award:

Adam (Seriously, he was told nothing and did nothing wrong via what he’d been told?!

Donna

Bill (Seriously, TEN YEARS SCRUBBING FLOORS? only to not be saved by 2 hours and then turned into a cyberman and killed again?)

Most Bothersome Lack of Continuity:

The rules for meeting yourself / interfering in the past.

Uh so who was the Not-Danny astronaut in “Listen” anyway?

Most Improved on a Rewatch:

The Fires of Pompeii because... ten and twelve?  It used to be one of my least favorite eps of season 4.

the Daleks in Manahattan episodes I guess just because I liked them more this time though they’re still not great. 

Seeing all of River’s timeline in such a short period of time

Gotta say I enjoyed Planet of the Dead a normal amount when before I used to really dislike it.

Best Premiere of a Doctor:  The Eleventh Hour Roughest Premiere of a Doctor: Deep Breath, since I’m grading season 1 on a curve. Best Exit of a Doctor: Honestly?  I’m gonna give this one to Nine.  He sacrificed himself to save Rose, and he died too soon.  It seemed a fitting end, if too quick.

Roughest Exit of a Doctor: I’m going to go with Eleven here.  It came at the end of what I felt was the worst period of New Who.  The episode itself was... I kind of felt like it was overwraught and didn’t pack quite the same punch as the other three.  Say what you will about the “I Don’t Wanna Go” line with Ten and Twelve needing to be convinced to regenerate at all.  Matt Smith did the best with what he was given, but he wasn’t given much in the entire last run of his episodes after having some of the BEST episodes the previous two and a half seasons.

Best Premiere of a Major Companion: Honestly?  Still gotta go with The Eleventh Hour, for both Amy and Rory and the great way they were both set up and the mysteries of the season.

Worst Premiere of a Major Companion: If you don’t count Asylum of the Daleks (which I thought was great) as Clara’s premiere, then it was definitely Clara’s “The Bells of Saint John”.  No contest.  I don’t think ANY of the rest of them were done poorly, TBH.  I guess I’d have to go with “Rose”, because the Autons themselves are pretty meh and the plastic wasn’t great.

Best (Main) Exit of a Major Companion: This one is more difficult. Doomsday deserves a nod.  Martha Jones walked the world and ended on her own terms.  Journey’s End saw the end of an entire era of companions we loved.  River showed up and died on the same day, but her final appearance is one of my favorite episodes ever.  The Angles Take Manhattan was SO GOOD.  But The Doctor Falls was exciting and tense and tragic.  Hell, even Clara’s final episodes were great.

Honestly, this shouldn’t even be a question.  I can’t choose.  I can’t think of a single one I didn’t love.

Anyway, thanks for reading this, if you got this far!  Know what?  Doctor Who is still a great show, even if it’s not an obsession anymore.  I can see myself doing this rewatch again in a few years, and I’m super looking forward to the next season starting in a couple of weeks!

#doctor who stuff #personal post tag thingy

[audiopilot]

Snippet: Dark Birds

Excerpt from an alternate universe Michael Myers/Jake Park wip where Jake works at Smith’s Grove. ∠( ᐛ 」∠)＿

Smith’s Grove had two head doctors on staff. Dr. Carter and Dr. Morel were complete opposites: Dr. Carter rarely left his office while Dr. Morel was only in it to visit with patients. The rest of the time she often walked around the rec room to socialize with patients or even supervised medicine give-out time. Her friendly casualness was a stark contrast to Dr. Carter’s intimidating persona. Where she wore cheap button-up shirts and flats, he wore a full, three-piece suit. They were both smilers, but Dr. Carter’s never reached his eyes. The bad feeling Jake got when the huge man noticed him in passing only increased the first time Jake heard his oddly high-pitched laugh at nothing.

He gave Jake the creeps.

Dr. Morel, or call me Claudette, was almost too genuine at times, even asking after Jake’s progress in nursing school (slow) and the other techs families or hobbies.

As Jake prepared to dole out medication under the supervision of head nurse Smithson, Dr. Morel approached with a cheerful smile.

“I can help Jake today, Sally,” she said. “If you don’t mind?”

Dr. Morel didn’t react at Smithson’s glare, but the nurse only nodded before gathering up the medication bottles for storage with one last narrow glance at Jake that communicated he better go put them up once he was finished.

Once Smithson was gone, Dr. Morel stood beside Jake to chat with each patient as they came up.

First was Philip, a tall and skinny man who never smiled, who took his medication in one hand and the accompanying cup of water from Jake with the other. His droopy demeanor gave the impression that a rain-cloud hovered over his head, rendering Dr. Morel’s disposition even more bright and sunny as if to compensate.

“Have your been sleeping all right, Philip?” Dr. Morel asked. Now that she mentioned it, Jake noticed the shadows under Philip’s eyes were even darker than usual.

“Yes, doctor,” he answered, then swallowed and showed her his empty mouth without prompting. She smiled and nodded.

“Remember our exercises, Philip, and have a good day,” she said as he murmured an agreement and turned around. He side-stepped whoever was next and hurried towards the brightly lit rec room. From where Jake stood behind the counter, he couldn’t quite see who it was until they stepped forward.

It was Michael. If Philip was sadness, Michael was a blank slate. His hair, long and tangled, hung in his face and didn’t quite hide his lack of expression as Dr. Morel said hello. Michael was as tall as Philip, but packed with muscle to match his broad shoulders. He might have been handsome, if he wasn’t so unsettling. Luckily, he was well-behaved and the only time Jake had to interact with Michael was during medication time. Jake was happy to let Dr. Morel direct him to take the pill cup labeled with his name.

“You’re looking well, Michael,” Dr. Morel continued, “I hope Herman is a better fit for you than Dr. Loomis was, but please let me know if you have any problems.”

Michael didn’t reply, but that wasn’t anything new. The man was not only mute, but didn’t attempt any form of communication. His thousand-yard stare went over both of their heads. He took the medicine from Dr. Morel. Jake offered water, and then almost dropped the plastic cup when Michael’s large fingers brushed against his. The brief contact tickled.

Jake was known for his ability to stay calm in all situations, a must for anyone working in a mental hospital, but Michael was different. If Dr. Carter made Jake nervous, Michael was downright spooky. He couldn’t help the little flinch at the feel of his skin. Michael abruptly looked down at Jake, dark eyes piercing right into Jake’s.

His focus was like a spotlight, blinding and making Jake’s heart pound with stage fright. He quickly tried to cover his mistake with a shaky smile.

“Here you go,” Jake said, somehow sounding more confident than he actually felt. After a long pause, Dr. Morel leaned between them, making Michael shift his focus to her.

“Please take your medication, Michael,” she said. The man silently obeyed. He placed the empty cup back in Jake’s hand, this time without touching him, and then lumbered away without hesitation.

“Are you okay?” Dr. Morel asked before the next patient came up.

“I’m fine,” Jake said quickly, embarrassed at his slip up.

“Just remember, they’re more scared of us than you should be of them,” Dr. Morel murmured as the next patient limped over.

Yeah right, Jake thought. Michael didn’t look like he knew what fear meant. He didn’t know the full story of why any of the patients were at the hospital, but he doubted Michael was at Smith’s Grove for anything benign, if the caution he had received about being alone with him meant anything.

“Hello, Max,” Dr. Morel’s smile grew wide again. Max grinned back. Child-like, Max was socially stunted to go along with the birth defect that marred his face, but he was always happy to see Dr. Morel. He held a crumpled piece of paper in his hands, which he quickly unfolded to show her.

It was a drawing of a landscape, with two stick figures close together, surrounded by yellow squiggles.

“Look!” he mumbled, pushing the drawing across the counter.

“Is that for me?” Claudette asked, and giggled when Max’s head bobbed up and down. “Thank you, Max!”

Jake half-listened as she praised Max’s talent, unable to help looking to where he could see the open area of the indoor rec room. He spotted Philip fiddling with the chess set, waiting for his usual opponent, the burly Evan, to join him. Others watched television of sat and stared out at the sunshine streaming in through the windows.

He blinked when he noticed Michael standing next to one of the thin, round pillars. He was staring back at Jake. Instead of looking away or attempting to disguise it now that he’d been caught, Michael refused to look away. Caught in a staring contest, Jake tried to ignore the chill that swept down his spine. Michael hadn’t given him a second glance before today.

Dr. Loomis used to claim that Michael was beyond therapy, describing him as pure evil whenever reassessment was discussed. It had gotten him reassigned to other patients, and then out of the hospital entirely.

Staring into those bottomless eyes, Jake got a sense of what Dr. Loomis meant.

Of course Myers is going to eventually break out and terrorize Jake if I ever finish it lol. ( ᐛ )و

#fic #dead by daylight #wip #jake park #michael myers #dark birds

[blessed-but-distressed]

Cross My Heart (3/31)

All Sheriff Emma Swan wanted was a bit of the quiet life. Why else would she take a job in Storybrooke, Maine, where deer outnumber people? But when a local woman turns up murdered, Emma quickly realizes she might be out of her depth. Enter Killian Jones, 17th century buccaneer turned vampire, who might just have the kind of unique perspective on the crime she is looking for. It’s a shaky alliance, but when Emma’s past comes back to bite her, she might just discover how handy having a vampire around can be. 

A Captain Swan Supernatural Summer AU.

also on ff.net and ao3 

Rated M for Mature Readers. Trigger warnings for blood, gore, violence, sexual references, blood sharing, mental manipulation and major character deaths.

This here is a murder mystery with vampires in it, and it plays out accordingly. You get what you pay for.

This is my contribution to the Captain Swan Supernatural Summer event. Many thanks to my pseudo-attorney @distant-rose for her art, her positivity, and her commitment to getting the gross details just about right. A big thank you also to @kmomof4 for putting the @cssns together, and for asking me to take part. And thanks to Eric Northman, for some inspiration.

Chapter Three

On the whole, Emma tried to avoid spending too much time in morgues.

It wasn’t just the cloying smell of formaldehyde, which clung to her clothes for the rest of the day. Or the thermostat set at a chilly 40 degrees. It wasn’t even the idea of being trapped in a windowless basement with a whole bunch of dead people. Though, gross.

For your garden variety deaths, your heart attacks and car accidents, the body was usually farmed out to the funeral parlor the next town over, who would handle everything. For the more interesting cases though, the Office of the Chief Medical Examiner would get involved, transferring the body down South for an autopsy.

Kathryn Nolan’s was an interesting case.

Which meant if Emma didn’t want to wait a month for the official autopsy report, she would have to get in good with the Medical Examiner. The Medical Examiner who was currently dodging her calls.

“I’ll flip you for it?” she pleaded, as Graham rummaged in the break room cabinet in search of more coffee filters.

“You already owe me for the press conference,” he pointed out, emerging from the cabinet empty handed and scowling. “Do we still have that paper towel in the storage closet?”

“They have a Dunks in Augusta…” Emma cajoled.

She sensed a flicker of interest from him, but only a flicker. In the end, his principles won out, and he shook his head defiantly. “I’ve been pulling doubles for you all week. I’m not driving to Augusta and back just because you want to avoid seeing one of your old hook ups.”

She really needed to stop telling him things.

She held his gaze for a long moment, but his resolve didn’t break. Son of a bitch.

“Fine!” Emma relented, reaching over to grab the keys for the patrol car off their hook. “I’ll go. But don’t think I’m bringing you back any Boston Kremes. You’ve shown where your loyalties really lie.”

Graham seemed to realize his grave error then, face contorting in pain at the very mention of his favorite treat.

“Nuh, uh,” Emma warned, waggling a finger in front of his face. “You had your chance. I hope you like jelly, you traitor.”

To call Dr Victor Whale an old hook up was pushing it. It was a one time thing, ages ago. A darkened bar, two counties from home. He was just a charming smile after a long line of shots. It wasn’t her fault he worked at the State Police Crime Lab. It wasn’t like he’d volunteered that information at the time. There hadn’t been a whole lot of talking, from what she remembered. Though if she was being honest, that wasn’t a lot.

He must’ve remembered at least a little, though, because a definite look of panic crossed his face when he saw her standing by the door to the laboratory, file in hand.

“Relax, Doctor,” she said with a roll of her eyes. “I’m not here for a paternity suit.”

He chuckled, but the way his shoulders relaxed underneath his lab coat convinced Emma she��d been right on the money with that one.

“Emma Swan,” she said, reaching over to shake his hand, saving him the trouble of having to remember her name. “I’m actually here about a dead woman.”

“No shortage of those here,” Whale said, breaking contact to stretch his arms wide. “We’ve got every make and model. Cheerleaders. Housewives. Grandmas. Society queens. Or if you’re looking for something a touch more exotic, our night time receptionist is of the walking, talking, bloodsucking variety. So, what can I do you for, Sheriff?”

He’d clocked her badge at her hip, then. Always a good sign to have a medical examiner who noticed the little details.

“You’ll remember mine. Kathryn Nolan? She had her heart missing. I heard you were the one who did the autopsy?”

It was almost comical, how fast his devil-may-care grin slid into a grimace.

“Kathryn,” he nodded solemnly. “Of course.”

“Great. Feel like answering some of my questions?”

He hesitated, running a hand through his short platinum hair. “I feel like I should warn you my full report won’t be ready for a couple weeks. The labs are still backed up from Christmas, and…”

“And I’ve got someone in my town who likes to carve out women's hearts,” Emma interrupted. “I’ll take your work-in-progress.”

He blinked. Just once.

“Alright then. She’s down in the freezer. Follow me.”

The building was labyrinthine, and Emma quickly lost her bearings amidst the institutional grey speckled walls, and rows of identical white doors. But as they descended the stairs down into the sub-basement, she came to understand why they called it “the freezer.” She hugged her arms more tightly around herself as the good doctor led her into a pristine white examination room that had never known the joys of central heating.

Probably for the best, all things considered.

“Kathryn Nolan,” Whale repeated to himself, picking up a clipboard and running his finger down the page. “Seems to be behind door number 3. You want a look at her?”

In Emma’s mind, want didn’t really come into it. Fighting her better instincts, she nodded, then stood back as Whale tucked the clipboard under his arm and pulled open the nearest cold storage locker. With a small grunt of effort he slid the steel drawer free until the figure under the white sheet lay between them.

Dragging her eyes from the shape beneath the sheet, Emma looked up to see Whale watching her. Waiting for some sign of distress, maybe. She figured this was probably the juncture where most people would start with the hyperventilating and the vomiting. Fortunately, Emma was not most people. This wasn’t her first rodeo. And even it is had been, she would never give him the satisfaction.

She held his gaze firmly as he pulled back the sheet.

“This your girl?”

Kathryn looked better than the last time Emma had seen her. Not that that was all that hard. But someone had definitely cleaned her up, removed all the river debris and brushed her hair out.   

“I’m guessing you’ve established cause of death, Doctor?”

His grin was wry. “Well, I might’ve gone to a State School, but even I couldn’t miss the gaping hole in her chest where her heart used to be.”

Emma blanched. “They took out the heart while she was still alive?”

“That’s my working theory. Massive chest trauma. She was definitely dead before she hit the water, anyway. The condition she arrived in made it a little hard to determine whether her other injuries were sustained before or after her swim in the river, but I didn’t spot anything else that looked particularly lethal.”

Seeing the look on Emma’s face, Whale hurriedly continued.

“Of course, there’s every chance she wasn’t conscious at the time. We’re still waiting on the toxicology to come back, but she might’ve been drugged. There weren’t any ligature marks on her wrists or ankles, and that’s rather telling. I doubt your girl would’ve just kept still while someone hacked into her.”

Emma remembered the woman who outpaced her on the treadmill, week after week. No, that didn’t seem like Kathryn’s MO.

“So they used a knife? Like a hunting knife?”

“That’s probably a good bet. I’ve taken some moulds of the grooves left in the ribs. I might be able to narrow that down for you. But my best guess at the moment is you’re looking at a substantial blade. 10 inches maybe. They weren’t fucking around.”

Emma wondered if that was the medically appropriate term.

“Good news is,” Whale pointed out, “whoever your killer is, they probably aren’t too smart, and they’re definitely not medically trained. I did some reading about this. It isn’t easy to rip out a human heart directly from the chest. There’s the sternum and the ribs to contend with. It takes a lot of strength to cut or break through them, and a lot of  time. It’s messy. The victim doesn’t die right away. Compare that with, say, the Aztecs, who practised heart-extraction as part of some rituals. They’d slice below the ribs with a sharp rock, and rip the heart out from below. It’s fast, efficient, and relatively easy to accomplish with little more than a scalpel and your hand.”

He indicated the angry wound marring Kathryn’s chest. “That’s not the route your killer chose to take. Ergo, not too bright.”

Or maybe they just appreciated the spectacle of it.

“You get anything I could use to find this guy?”

Whale shrugged, lifting the sheet back over Kathryn’s face. “After a couple of days in that river, you’d be lucky to find any useful trace evidence. We sent everything we had off for analysis, but I don’t like your odds. ”

Emma frowned. “You think she was in the water the whole time, then? She was killed the day she disappeared?”

“That’s my opinion. It’s hard to say for sure. The decaying process is delayed when the body is submerged in water, especially when it’s this cold. But the body was already showing signs of putrefaction, so she’d probably been out there the full five days. That’s not forgetting the lack of ligature marks, which suggest she wasn’t held for any length of time. If you’re thinking this was a kidnapping, then I’d say they used some kind of drug to incapacitate her, in the short term. Unfortunately, the condition of the body makes it hard to determine how it might’ve entered her system. You’d have to wait for the tox screen to know what you’re dealing with.”

“So you’re saying it could be anyone?” Emma sighed, rubbing her eyes with the heel of her hand.

“Well,” Whale considered. “Anyone with a hunting knife and a certain amount of patience. They didn’t do this by accident. They meant to rip her heart out. If you consider how much strength it would take to saw through the sternum, you’re probably looking at a male, or especially strong woman. Hard to gauge height by the angle of grooves in the ribs, because she was probably on her back at the time, but the marks definitely skew left. So he was probably right-handed.”

“So he’s strong, right-handed man, then?” Emma summed up.

It didn’t really narrow down the field much, and the apologetic look Whale shot her way said he knew it.

“And he probably knew her,” Whale added. “Or surprised her. I didn’t spot a lot of obvious defensive wounds. So whoever they are, they must’ve gotten pretty close before they incapacitated her.”

A strong, right-handed man, who was familiar to her, then.

As if that didn’t describe nearly the entire male population of Storybrooke to a T.

Swallowing back her disappointment, Emma extended her hand again. “Thanks for your time, Doc. I look forward to your full report.”

He looked at her hand, but he didn’t accept it. Instead he let his lips curve into what could only be described a salacious grin. “I get off in an hour. I don’t suppose you-”

“I think that would be a spectacularly bad idea,” Emma said firmly, snatching her hand back and cutting him off before he could dig himself any further. And then, because she couldn’t help herself, “Do you normally try to seduce the police officers investigating the deaths of your patients?”

“Only the hot ones,” he replied, maybe a little too honestly. “And I seem to remember we had fun together.”

Emma doubted he remembered that much. She certainly didn’t.

“Yeah, I’m not really interested in jeopardizing my murder investigation with a repeat performance.”

Whale held a finger to his lips, letting loose what she was sure someone had once told him was a panty dropping smile. “I won’t tell if you won’t.”

The next time Emma got it into her head to take a man to bed, she was going to make sure she was across state lines first. Hell, maybe even across the border. Anything to ensure she never, ever found herself in this situation again.

“As tempting as that sounds,” she said, with forced sincerity, “I think I’m gonna pass. No,” she said, holding up a hand as he moved closer. “It’s okay. I can see myself out.”

Twenty minutes and a few wrong turns later, Emma was back in the patrol car again, heater blasting, scrolling through her contacts with numb fingers.

“Graham, hey. Bad time?”

“Is there any other time?” he drawled.

Emma stifled her eye roll. “You’re funny, you know that? I knew I kept you around for a reason.”

“That and my charming personality,” he pointed out.

“Of course,” she agreed. “Can’t forget that. Any chance you put those charms to work and got Michael Tillman to open the garage for you?”

“Yeah, but I don’t know what I’m looking for. Didn’t we already dust and bag everything in Kathryn’s car?”

“We thought so, but back then this was just a disappearance. Now it’s a murder. Check again. Especially the backseat.”

“The backseat?” Graham repeated.

“Kathryn was driving from home to the office when she disappeared. It’s a straight line, and she had no reason to deviate. So either she stopped for someone, or they were already in the car when she got in. Check the backseat.”

“If I find anything, do I earn myself a Boston Kreme?” he asked hopefully.

“You find anything, I’ll buy you a whole box.”

#cssns #cs ff #cs au #cross my heart #cs au ff

[chikabiddy]

Chapter 2

A/N: Here is part 2! I forgot to mention before, I have no beta, so all mistakes are mine and mine alone! I hope you enjoy. :)

Veronica lifted her heavy eyelids. Something sharp dug into her face and arms, but she couldn’t think. Her mind was sluggish, foggy. What… what’s happening? She moved her arms to push to a sitting position, but the movement brought on a piercing headache. She closed her eyes against the nausea that tore through her. But the pain in her head was brought with it her memories.

She picked up the mark for a new case her dad got that morning as he was leaving his office. Then she drove to the Camelot to do some beginning surveillance. It was easy, a routine case. After 2 hours the mark, was the only one in or out of the hotel room, left. She followed him to his house, watched him go inside, and waited until all the lights were off. Was his trip to the motel unusual? Sure. Proof of infidelity? Not even close. Perfect, I’ve got some time to look into that case for Weevil.

Veronica made her way quickly to her usual surveillance stop nearby the biker bar downtown. Weeks of surveillance and poking into this case were paying off: two of the marks Weevil had her trailing were in what appeared to be an argument with third man. One of the marks was gesturing wildly then pointed at the third man, and the man’s face lined with panic. She retrieved her camera from the passenger seat and began snapping pictures, her stomach tightening into knots as the scene progressed.

The third man took a couple steps back from the marks, raising his hands, palms out, as he moved. The aggressive mark stepped towards the third man, jamming his finger towards the man’s face. The other mark stood back, arms crossed, and then glanced in Veronica’s direction. Veronica slid farther down in her seat, hoping her car looked like any other abandoned car on the street. After a moment she peaked up. The aggressive mark had a hand around the third man’s upper arm, but he was looking in her direction. The other mark was walking towards her with narrowed eyes. Shit, shit, shit.

Veronica’s hands went clammy, she fumbled dropping her camera in her lap and reaching for her keys. Glancing up, all her muscles froze. The mark picked up his pace and was speed walking towards her. The keys slipped from her fingers. Amateur move, Mars. She scrambled to find the keys and start her car and jammed the key in the ignition as the the mark reached her car. She turned the key, but her engine didn’t turn over.

Not good, not good, not good. She mentally tallied her options. Stay in the car and call the police hoping they get here before he gets in, not likely; incapacitate this guy and escape before back up comes, definitely my best shot. She fumbled in her bag for her taser and gripped it tightly. At the sound of her door handle forcefully pulled she turned back to the window as the mark gave up on the handle and raised his elbow. Veronica ducked her face into her elbow and readied the taser. She felt shards of glass cut into her as the window shattered open and immediately jammed the taser towards the broken window. A muffled grunt accompanied the feel of the taser connecting with a body.

She held the taser to the mark until she was sure he would drop. Then she grabbed her camera and phone and scrambled across the passenger seat, out the far door. She hoped the extra distance would give her long enough to get away, but she didn’t dare look back to see. While listening for following footsteps she sprinted down the nearest alley. She heard men yelling and knew at least one person was chasing her. Running wouldn’t work; they were bigger, most likely faster, and she would be easier to spot on the move. Casing her surroundings, she spied a dark nook. That’s going to be my best bet. She slid into the small nook and crouched as low as she could, waiting.

That’s right, I was working. Weevil’s case. Veronica’s forced her eyes open as she remembered they had found her. She struggled to push herself up, biting back the rising bile. Looking around she realized, for whatever reason, the marks left her be. A piercing throbbing in her temple caused her to lift a hand to her head. She pulled it back, sticky. So, bruised on one side, broken on the other. I’ll have to get up, find help. Veronica felt drained, but knew she had to move soon. The blood from her head was fresh and still oozing. She looked around again, trying to clear the fog from her brain. Next to her she spotted her phone, shattered and useless. Taking a deep breath to steel herself, she fought to her feet as black spots danced at the edge of her vision, threatening to overtake her. She used to alley all to support herself and closed her eyes until the dizziness passed. One foot in front of the other, come on Mars.

           “Veronica?” a familiar voice called out to her, and she almost collapsed in relief. She turned her head slowly toward the sound of the voice.

“Dad?” He father reached her just as her knees gave out. His arms wrapped around her, catching her and pulling her close. “Dad.”

*********

           Logan paced his room, unable to keep himself still while he waited to hear from the Sheriff. He alternated between walking circles around his room, pulling at his hair and sleeves, and sitting uncomfortably at the edge of his bed bouncing his feet off the floor. Evening turned to night, and night turned to dawn. He’d finally passed out as the first hint of sunrise touched the sky. Nightmares plagued the little sleep he did get. Images of Lilly, bloody and motionless played on repeat until Lilly was replaced by Veronica and he woke in a cold sweat. Checking his phone again, in case he had just missed the call, Logan realized he would have to get ready for school. He couldn’t stay home today, not with his dad around. He double checked the volume on his phone: max volume. Giving a sigh, he moved to his bathroom and had a quick shower. Maybe I can stop by her apartment before school. The thought took the edge off the knot which had been sitting on his stomach since he took Veronica’s call.

           Quick shower taken, random clothes on, and with his school bag over his shoulder he headed off to Veronica’s apartment. He’d avoided a morning run in with his father, daddy dearest was probably sleeping off a hangover. Logan resisted driving the same speed he had the day before, sure he couldn’t get away with it again. The last thing he needed was to explain a speeding ticket to his dad. Stuffing down his anxiety over seeing Veronica, especially given their recent history, Logan got out of his car and headed to Veronica’s apartment. Tentatively, he knocked on the door, took a step back, and waited.

           Logan wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or disappointed when Sheriff Mars opened the door. He didn’t look surprised. “Logan, I’m glad you stopped by. I wanted to call you last night, but unfortunately didn’t have your number. I could’ve gotten your home number, but it was late and I didn’t want you to get in trouble.”

           “Uh,” Logan wasn’t sure how to respond. All he really wanted was to ask about Veronica.

           “Ah, sorry. I’m sure you just want to know how Veronica is.”

           “Yeah, uhm,” Logan began.

           “I have to thank you, Logan. Veronica, she’s fine. But if you hadn’t come to find me, well I don’t know. So, thank you.”

           “Can I see her?”

           “She’s resting right now. We just got back from the hospital a little while ago. It was… a difficult night.”

           “Ah… I see. Well thank you, I’m glad she is okay.” Logan moved to go, then paused. “Do you think…do you think I could come after school? I’d… I know she’s fine. But, but if I could see her, I’d just feel better.”

           Logan held his breath, it felt like an eternity before the Sheriff opened his mouth: “I… think that would be fine. After school. I’ll let her know you are coming.”

********

           The smell of coffee and bacon roused Veronica. The last 24 hours flashed through her mind and she let out a groan. Maybe if I stay in bed long enough Dad will forget… ha. She briefly considered rolling back over and seriously attempting to fall back asleep, but she had no idea how much of the day she had already slept away. This conversation with Dad has got to happen sometime. God, I’m going to be grounded until I die. With a last longing sigh, Veronica rolled out of bed, tossing the comforter aside as she swung her legs to the ground. The throbbing in her temple hadn’t improved from the previous night, but a quick scan of her room revealed a bottle of Aspirin and a glass of water sitting on her desk. She took a couple, ran her fingers through her hair, and decided it was time for her to face her father.

           As expected, her father was standing at the stove frying bacon. “Ah, bacon. The world’s best medicine,” Veronica quipped. She fidgeted with her hands, playing with the edge of the island counter and keeping her eyes down. Meeting her father’s eyes at that moment was not possible, she didn’t want to see disappointment reflected there. Of course he is disappointed, not a single part about last night was in line with what he taught her about PI work. Or what I agreed to when he finally relented let me work with him. When no response came, she chanced a look in his direction. His piercing eyes bore into her as their eyes met and she felt heat rising to color her cheeks.

           After a moment his eyes softened, “a cure all,” he said. “Doctor prescribed. See? I’ve got the note right here.” He turned back to the stove, flipping

           Returned banter was a good sign and the knot in Veronica’s stomach loosened a touch. She released the breath she was holding. “So, I know we need to talk about la…” her father held up a hand.

           “Veronica, there isn’t anything to talk about. I should never have let you work with me in the first place. It was incredibly irresponsible of me,” her father turned from the stove to face her, his face almost imploring. Veronica opened her mouth to respond, protest. Remind him it was her choice, but he cut her off. “No Veronica, listen to me. I always tried to make sure you only worked on the simple cases, the safe ones. But I was lying to myself.” He crossed his arms, almost defensively. “Any case has the potential to be dangerous, to go nasty. Just look at what happened here,” He turn back to the stove and picked up the pan, angling it so the bacon slid from the pan to a plate sitting on the counter. As he did so he continued: “I’ve no idea how the case got where it did, or who did this to you, but the fact remains if you weren’t working cases for me you never would have been there. This never would have happened.” He set the pan back on the stove and faced her again. “I’m so sorry Veronica. I’m sorry I was selfish, I’m sorry I blinded myself. I’m sorry I put all this on you.” Veronica froze, processing what his words meant, not totally comprehending what he was saying. She couldn’t figure out what to say and her father continued: “So, that’s it. I can’t have you working for me anymore, and there really isn’t anything more to say about it.” He moved the plate of bacon to the island as he spoke. “Let’s enjoy our breakfast… lunch I guess, and then we can work on getting you healed up.”

           Veronica slumped into one of the island chairs, still processing everything her father had said. He thinks it was his case. He thinks this is his fault. Her nausea returned. I can’t believe I did this to him. I can’t believe he has been blaming himself this whole time…

           “Oh, Logan stopped by while you were resting.”

           “Logan? Why?” Veronica felt the familiar stab of regret and betrayal which plagued her every time she thought of Logan Echolls.

           “Ah, I guess between finding you in an alley and getting home from the hospital I forgot to mention, Logan is the only reason I knew to come looking.”

           Stunned, Veronica’s head shot up and she met her father’s eyes. “What?”

           “I guess you called him by accident, so he heard some of what was happening and came to find me. I’m just glad I was able to find you.”

           “Wait, he… I… what?”

           “He just wants to check that you are actually okay. So, when he gets here be nice. Maybe you could even bring yourself to gratitude?” Veronica stared at her father, mouth gaping. “Look, Veronica. I’m a PI. I know things between you and Logan have been… rocky, to say the least. And I know he hasn’t exactly been making your life easy the past year. But, without him… just, keep that in mind.”

           They continued their brunch in silence, Veronica mulling over all her dad had said.

#Veronica Mars #vm fic #vmars #vm fanfic