#(So while I haven't been doing writing or posting)

[taruruchi]

WAAAAA THANK YOU FOR THE TAGS, IAN, @angelwishess @twtysevapr @skriblee-ksk and @itskamisato I never expected I'd be tagged by so many people 🥹🥹💖💗 You're all so sweet!! I also wanna write small messages to a few people so they'll be utc 🫶 No pressure to rb or reply btw!! Just wanted to express my gratitude <3

To @linabirb and @solxima my MOOOOST belovedests ever, you've known me practically since the beginning and when I first joined the twst fandom KSNDKNSF you literally know all my ocs and get all the behind the scenes intel on them and myself HAHAHAHA I'm so so happy we've known each other for almost 3 whole years??? That's CRAZYYY to me... Anyway I love y'all SOSOSOSO much and I hope we get to continue yapping and playing volleyball with the braincell for a long long long, long long time to come 💝💞💓💖💕

The people I found through the a3 fandom and the a3 yume shippers I know! @akaikami-cherryblossom @ashipiko @emilycollins00 @marchenmusika @mxddyhero @last-runway @hqissodelicate @imissa3en @everwisp @omi-my-beloved and soooo many other a3 people, you guys are literally the sweetest people ever, I love seeing you on my dash even if we don't really interact often, and I adore all the love you exude <3 (And I hope you yume shippers continue to post bc I love seeing how happy you are talking about your f/os!!)

To a few older moots @wafflethewitchboy @siphoklansan @merotwst @ceruleancattail @aqua-beam @kunikame @officialdaydreamer00 @hisui-dreamer we probably interacted haven't in a while but I still treasure you guys as my moots dearly and am grateful for every past interaction 🫶🫶

@dr3amscap3 you get a special mention because tbh you're more like a discord moot than tumblr one now BAHAHAHAHA I don't remember how that even happened tbh??? Just one day we were yapping on disc and now I'm getting the most majestic song covers ever HAHAHA we should've been friends if we knew each other in the philippines ☹️☹️ BUT YEAH!! I hope life treats you well and ONE DAY WE'LL MAKE THE BEST PIANO VOICE SONG COVER EVER, TRUST 🤞🤞

@h0neybane you get a special mention too bc you're half tumblr half discord moot too KANSKDKS GENUINELY THO I LOVE TALKING TO YOU, HEARING YOUR EVLEO THOUGHTS, AND SEEING ALL YOUR WIPS!!!! This is the specialest privilege I never thought I'd get when I first sent you the art request THAT CHANGED MY BRAIN CHEMISTRY PERMANENTLY BTW. YOUUUU 💥💥💥 Ily please never stop dropping random rambles or wips on me 🫶

To the newer twst moots I've made @jewelulu @distant-velleity @theolivetree123 @twtysevapr @beneathsakurashade @cheerleaderman @angelwishess @scint1llat3 @gimmeurmoneyagh @gl00myb3arz @skriblee-ksk @itskamisato @skibidibabygirl @bunniehunn @viperbunnies @justm3di0cr3 I was a pretty more isolated blog before I'll be honest HAHAHAHA but all of you made my experience these past like, what, 2 or 3 months?? So much more exciting and so much more fun, and I'm so grateful for that!!! I'm happy with every interaction I get from you guys, thank you for being my moots 🥺🫶

And I think that's everyone HAHAHA I'd also like to say thank you to my followers, I do recognize you when you appear in my notifs and you always bring a smile to my face bc I go "Oh! It's them! :D" like knowing you're doing well <3 Thank you too for deciding to follow my silly little blog HAHAHA

I LOVE YOU EVERYONE!!!!

positivity train!

if you see this or are tagged in it, tag a couple of your favorite mutuals/blogs and let them know you appreciate seeing them on your dash!

@h0neysugarfree @blueberrylovv @bequiteanddriveeeeeee @cherri-bomb-bomb @eg0mechan1c @fatrexicisback

[girlfromthecrypt]

I haven't posted to this account very much (or at all, really), so I figured I'd update you guys on the state of Such Happy Campers and Press Play. I don’t want to talk about the incident that led to me putting SHC on ice because it still rather upsets me, but honestly, I think it was a good decision. I was grieving the “loss” of SHC for a while, but I can't help but believe I made the right call. Continuing on under the circumstances would have drained me and likely taken me right down the road to writer's block.

Furthermore, and in hindsight, I find writing Press Play a lot more fulfilling right now. All my life, I've only ever written horror, so Press Play has been a wonderful breath of fresh air. It feels cathartic writing about struggles I myself have experienced, and it’s so easy to write about music. I love music so much, and I didn't realize how fun it could be to combine this with my passion for writing. You might have been able to tell from the sheer difference in word count between Press Play and SHC, but it's been so much easier working on this somehow. Also, I do believe SHC wasn't all it could have been. I only want to put out my best work, and I don't think SHC was quite on par with Press Play.

But what about SHC, you may wonder. Or you may not, but I'll address it anyhow. I have recently had an idea for what I might turn the original SHC into. It's only a vague outline right now and I won't turn it into anything more until I'm done with Press Play (I have learned that I can't really write several IFs at once, I'm not C.C. Hill), but I figured I'd let you know that the SHC characters aren't gone forever. My idea would involve the entire SHC cast, though some names/appearances/personalities may undergo changes. Also, I might exclude Anita because she was, admittedly, my least favorite to write and might not fit in with the new setting. Other than that, the IF would explore an interesting alternative to the SHC narrative— for example, the character equivalent to Basil Laurier would actually be a practicing lawyer in this one. Another prominent change would be the inclusion of Sawyer Wright-Garcia as a full RO. They’re the only one I actually have a clear mental image for as to where their story would go, and it is… nuts.

Without spoiling too much, the plot and setting would be very different. It'd be horror, except it'd start out very unassuming, light-hearted and sitcom-y, only to then spiral. I feel like I'd enjoy causing that kind of whiplash. Anyhow, that's that. I hope that if you liked and perhaps miss SHC, this post helped at least a little bit.

[sharpth1ng]

Ive already posted this in my server, so you may see it twice, but In case you don't see it there im posting it here too.

Im assuming most of you have seen the news about the us election. Honestly im feeling nothing less than devastated, and i would assume Americans are feeling ten times worse. Im so fucking sorry to you all, and I know that doesn't help at all. I feel angry, hopeless, and sad as fuck, and i dont know how to comfort anyone or advocate for the hope i think we deserve.

What I can do is remind you all who you come from.

Women, queer people, disabled people, indigenous people, black people, new immigrants- anyone who experiences marginalization- we have been through this before. Many times. So many lives have been unjustly lost and our rights have been trampled on over and over, and we shouldnt have to be dealing with any of that still in 2024. It feels insane that im even having to write this post right now.

But even with that crushing history, repeating itself over and over, we haven't been silenced. If anything we've gotten louder. We've been having mainstream conversations about oppression and liberation in the past few years that were completely undiscussed when I was a kid. The vocal support for trans people alone, even with the rise of transphobia, is unprecedented.

None of this is meant to tell you that it's alright, or that it's not that bad, because it is that bad. But what I'm telling you is that its been this bad before, only this time we're louder than we ever have been before and we'll be louder still next time. There are more of us than there ever have been before, and if they couldn't take us all out when there were fewer of us they wont manage it this time.

There were drag shows happening in gay bars when it was still illegal to be gay at all. There were Natives preserving language and knowledge out of residential schools, and black people inventing whole new types of art and resistance while they were still being actively enslaved, and those are just a few examples. The point is that we dont stop, we never have. We will keep making art, finding love, and joy, being fucking loud and fighting for each other.

It's ok to hurt, to be angry and scared. Let yourself feel all of those things because its the only rational response to this.

But don't let it shut you down. Your history is one of resilience, survival, and compassion. We're so much more than the oppression we face and we always have been.

Reach out to the people you love and tell them you fucking love them. Make plans to see them. Gather with your community and organize to support each other, find ways to protect each other, and above all else don't stop looking for joy. Don't stop making art. Don't stop showing compassion.

Solidarity is the most important thing we have right now, so don't give up on it.

I don't know how to close this message really, but i want to repeat I'm not telling you to have hope, I'm not telling you it's not so bad. What I am telling you is that you're stronger than you think. You come from strength, you come from people who faced odd that seemed insurmountable so that you could be here today.

If they couldn't take us out before they wont succeed now. We're only going to get louder, angrier and stronger. And when the tide swings back in the other direction, like it always has in the past, they better be fucking grateful that most of us will be fighting for equality instead of revenge.

[rosepetalkitty]

ngl hdg kinda amazes me in its ability to cater to my kinks pretty much perfectly while simultaneously triggering several of the worst parts of my trauma.

like how is it that it hits on everything i like on the surface, provides semi-decent worldbuilding to back it all up and enable the creation of stories, and even has consistent backstory and stuff, and yet the entire damn thing instills this looming sense of dread and fear that i can't shake enough to properly enjoy it...

below the break im gonna talk in like. moderate detail. about the parts that scare me. so uh yeah be aware that it'll get heavy that's just how it is.

ok, so the worst thing for me. wellness checks. the idea is cute and kinda hot on the surface. "make sure you're okay and if you're not you're getting domesticated" (which is supposed to be like. a happy thing. "now you get to just chill and be happy and get taken care of forever and in return you give me only your submission"). yeah, fuck it, im into that. hell that's not even an uncommon trope in the realm of cnc/mc writing.

except whenever i read an hdg wellness check story (in the sense of those long-ish tumblr posts that people write—i haven't even really considered reading the longer form content on ao3) there's something viscerally... off... about the tone. it stops feeling like kink and starts feeling like a nightmare when things happen to line up just so, and then it clicks, and reminds me that i knew people, real people, who had "wellness checks" happen in real life, except that instead of it being a kink thing that made them happy and was genuinely for their wellbeing, it was that their parents had hired people to kidnap them and drag them to a psych ward when they just needed a therapist. not all of those people that i knew have come home, as far as im aware. some have been gone for years.

and what about the whole idea of the non-consensual part being okay because "it's for your own good". in hdg-land it is. it's genuinely good for you and everyone seems to be happy with it, other than the occasional "bad guy who hates good things" trope (feralists, in hdg, afaik). but that's exactly what they told me when they cut contact between my boyfriend and i while he was in the hospital. "it's for your own good." guess what, it wasn't. his parents didn't like our relationship. they wanted me to forget him. they either didn't understand or didn't care that i couldn't. it was a year and a half before he came home and i had forgotten nothing.

our loss of communication was the tipping point in a series of events that, had i made one decision differently in the end, would have killed me. thankfully i fucked it up and am here today, no longer in that bad of a place may i add. im choosing not to share any of what happened to me directly right now because i don't want to turn this into a full on trauma dump, but suffice it to say there are recurring themes.

it's so interesting to me because in a lot of ways i have found comfort from those experiences in kink and writing. take flames of averon: mech pilots are neurochemically bonded to their handlers. how different is this from what the affini do to their florets? well, you have to sign up to be a pilot, and there's no authority in the world threatening you if you choose not to. even the coalition military wouldn't dare force you to become a pilot against your will, though they might never stop sending you promotional flyers if they find out you're able to tolerate the cyberware /lh

hell, im into cnc. im really into it. i chose to leave it as an opening between pilots and handlers in foa. the implication exists that if a handler tells their pilot to do something the poor thing will have a hell of a time saying no. that's intentional. it's hot to me, on either end. but the safety comes from other things.

yes, your handler has a lot of influence over you at a level that's hard to imagine, but you chose them and they chose you (most of the time), or at the very least neither of you had any complaints to raise with your supervisor when the paperwork came in for syncing your link chips (holly and astrid from seat of consciousness).

yes it's true, you can't be reassigned now that you're bonded, but that doesn't mean you have zero recourse if your handler is treating you badly. if you need to, you can always file paperwork with your commanding officer to request that something be done.

plus, handlers go through a lot of training, which includes screening to filter out people who would actually harm their pilots. yeah, some handlers are a little sadistic, but when it comes down to it they are on your side. if that wasn't the case they would never have passed pre-basic.

put another way, as a pilot in flames of averon, the closest thing ive ever written to a floret, there are a multitude of points at which you could have said no and didn't, and although that's obviously still noncon in the grand scheme of things, it's "signing away your freedom" cnc compared to the hdg flavor of "you 'consented' via it being the best thing for you whether you like it or not."

even if your handler just told you to "stay" for the first time and you're currently panicking and trying to figure out why your legs won't move, you still have some tiny amount of agency—an escape hatch, so to speak—and you'll just never end up having to use it.

and to me, the loss of that minute level of agency which will never be invoked is the difference between "this is hot as hell and feels perfectly safe" and "this is the abuse that was once leveraged against those i cared about, and to some degree myself, and it's simply been repackaged with a kink sticker slapped on."

none of this is to say i hate hdg, it's fans, those who write about it, or even the parts of it which scare me. i do think the idea is hot. hdg is pretty cool. hell, it was one of my inspirations in writing a lot of the pilot/handler dynamics in flames of averon. but it does scare me. and no matter what i tell myself i can't shake that fear.

it's frustrating, because oftentimes fear can be part of what makes something hot, but the particular flavor of fear which hdg instills in me is one which makes bitter all that it reaches. maybe someday i'll grow out of it. the traumatic memories from which that fear stems were only created in the past couple of years, to be fair. but something tells me a piece of that fear will never be fully dislodged from my mind.

so, all this to say, while i am into hdg, it's a complicated relationship.

(and on a sillier in character note to lighten the mood—please feel free to respond to this with roleplay or whatever you like!)

to any Affini out there who might be reading this, know that im not scared of you. im not scared of what you represent. im only scared by the fact that you mimic that which has left the scars you see on my soul today. im not against being taken in as a floret, and none of this is to say that i hold any level of disdain for you.

i only ask that you be gentle with me. what has been broken once can be broken again. please, do not let it come to that.

[lord-squiggletits]

Hello! This was for your ‘ask me megop stuff’ post, which I realize I’ve lost track of october so if you’re not looking for those anymore feel free not to answer!! But in case you still want asks!

-How do you think megatron and optimus each react to being sick/who is the worse patient? Or how do they react to each other being sick? (in a scenario where they were in proximity to each other, could be during or post war)

-Do you have any headcanons about hearts of steel megop? Ik there’s not a lot there in canon but still, megatron cannon looks cool XD I have been contemplating if plug n play would work the same way because I’m not sure if a cannon and a train have cables the same way? Or if it’d work the same because they’re alien tech anyways!

-In the spirit of the season, what do you think each of them would wear for halloween if a scenario occurred where they had to dress up, or how do you think they would get out of wearing a halloween costume?

Sickness: I've actually thought about this before and even thought of writing a fluff piece for it in NATP-verse! Idk about who's the better/worse patient, but I think Megatron is actually the best caretaker simply bc Optimus is so active and powerful (their equality is a reason they're attracted to each other after all) that it's rare for Megatron to get the chance to be nurturing and protective towards Optimus. And I think, because IDW Megatron in particular deprived himself of attachments for so long, the act of caring for another person is especially novel to him and so he just loves doing it. Optimus is there all sick and grumpy bc he can't jump off buildings or w/e but meanwhile Megatron couldn't be happier... even the tedious/gross stuff just makes him so happy to have a chance to care for Optimus 😭 I think they're both equally bad patients for the same reason (tough, independent leaders not used to relying on others), but Megatron makes an especially good caretaker/they're both in better moods when OP is sick and M is in charge bc Megatron's latent tenderness simply gets a chance to jump out

Also, this is why it's a really good reason that in Addicted to You, Megatron is the one who overdosed while Optimus is the one who's taking care of him. Bc I think if it was the opposite way around, sore interface array or not Megatron would be doing the hell out of Optimus bc he simply would not be able to resist the combination of needy, desperate, affectionate Optimus PLUS getting the chance to take care of his needs? Actual heaven. (This is basically what happened in Megatron's OP-threesome wet dream anyways so I'm sure that's not a surprise sldkjlsdf)

Hearts of Steel MegOP: None, sadly 😔 I actually haven't read the comic (if there's a full comic? I've seen concept art but that's it). Also yeah, I think that even when they take on Earth vehicle alt modes, they only superficially look like Earth vehicles and their actual composition and interior guts are still Cybertronian. So, cables.

Halloween Costumes:

Joke answer #1: Them showing up to a Halloween party is scary enough as it is, so they just come as themselves

Joke answer #2: They come in dressed as each other (like, paint swap and wearing fake kibble stapled to themselves) and do absolutely uncanny impressions of each other's voices and mannerisms

Joke answer #3: They don't dress as each other but they pretend that they had a personality swap through some unknown technological mishap (or maybe they actually did personality swap) and they fucking prank everyone else bc everyone at the party genuinely can't tell if Megatron and Optimus are telling the truth or lying about the personality swap, or they're like trying to find the hologram devices bc clearly they're actually disguised as each other and there's no way that Megatron could reproduce Optimus' quiet, bleeding-heart self-effacing nature or that Optimus could reproduce Megatron's loud self-righteous declarations, right? lksdflsdk it could honestly go either way as to whether or not they actually swapped or are just pretending

Honestly, I'm not sure I have a NON joke answer for this one akldfjls I hope these answers were satisfying!

[bomberqueen17]

aight poll results

Huh I haven't really done a poll before, I kind of thought there'd be somewhere you could like, see the results. But no. I just have to scroll back and find the post. And since I made it not rebloggable I can't reblog it either, LOL.

So anyway. It's not quite-quite closed but there's more votes in it than I thought there would be, and I'm going to discuss it behind this lil cut here.

[Image ID: a screenshot of poll results showing 14.5% for the sweet summer children era, 85.5% for the older sea-dogs, 55 votes cast, almost four hours left in the poll.]

After making this poll I went back to my Just Write Some Scenes approach and noodled around some more. My first attempt had been to come up with this whole elaborate Save The World plot, and then try to introduce the crew to each other right at the start of it, and after tripping over that and falling flat on my face, that's when I reconsidered and made the poll. Mostly I just. Need other people to remind me that I'm not alone in the wilderness here, LOL. And you know the quite-contrary "I need advice but mostly so I can identify that when someone tells me to do the thing I don't wanna, that means there's a thing I didn't want to do, which means there is a thing I DO want to do, and now I can narrow down what it is" impulse, yes?

But it's gratifying to find that I've voted with the majority here.

So my main consideration here is that while I cannot really reuse any of the scenes I wrote as fanfic, I can absolutely carry over every bit of the character dynamics. The canon events, I can't translate. The fanfic character work, yes. (What that means to you, dear readers, is that I thus can totally just publish the fanfic at some point LOL, so I'll... try to do that if I can ever manage to become sane about it.)

I don't know that I've fully explained, here-- I fully have a 125,000-word fanfic already complete for this fandom. Like, it is 125,000 words long, and goes from before Master and Commander to... I'm at about the middle of Ionian Mission. That's book nine. And it's all the gapfills and everything from Tom's POV. And I have a few more scenes I'm still writing, but what I have is quite a novel already.

If I took the characters from their Master & Commander Book 1 era and file the serial numbers off and try to instead give them this plot, then I have to cram in every bit of the getting-to-know-you shit, and also worldbuild the whole setting, and then also have them save the world. It's not that I can't do this, but I have this huge shortcut where I've already been working with these guys (and you know how fanfic works, I've subtly warped them from canon because these are side characters the canon author did not devote all that much time to. There are several times when Mowett did something in the first book and by the eleventh or twelfth, Stephen firmly remembers it as something Pullings did, and the narrative treats him as correct, and I genuinely think that O'Brian forgot, unless he was trying to make a point about Stephen's memory issues that he then didn't entirely follow through on. It happens more than once. Also there are a number of occasions when the narrative asserts that Mowett was present for books when he was not; he does not appear in book 3 for example, but is afterward treated as though he'd been there. "They've been together since their youth!" they haven't been in the same hemisphere in six years. Anyway.)

I've been working with these guys for the length of a novel already. So what I can do, and what I think I'm going to do, is that I'm going to just pretend that I've already rewritten a serial-numbers-filed-off version of the first volume, and dive in at circa the book 5 section of the fic, and insert this adventure at that point. Which gives me a certain rank for each character-- Pullings and Mowett would be lieutenants with some seniority, Babbington would be a newly-made lieutenant, Aubrey has moderate seniority, his relationship with Maturin is fairly mature and has weathered some storms and come out well, he's rescued Maturin from torture, Maturin is slightly washed-up with the intelligence people and is addicted to drugs but recovering-- and from the fanfic side (spoilers for the as-yet-unedited-and-unpublished fic!), I've established Pullings in his marriage, given him his checkered career (Indiamen and transports), he has two children, and also he and James and Mrs. Pullings have worked through a bunch of their shit and figured out that they should all have a threesome sometime. But, crucially, they have not had this threesome yet.

So it's like-- a ton of deep character work, that I can just plunk us into.

(I haven't figured out a new naming structure yet so I haven't find-replaced and I'm just writing with the old names, which is hilarious the more I diverge from canon.)

It's not that I don't want to tell that first story, of them all meeting up initially, but I think it would be easier to go back and write a prequel after having done the Big World-Saving Plot.

Anyway-- some serial-number-filing notes here:

Aubrey is going to be a woman because then if I write her exactly the same it comes across wildly differently and I am absolutely dying to see what effect it has. Translating Jack's particular confused helplessness around women makes this new Aubrey into an extremely awkward lesbian and I love it. (Still fat, crucially. Still six feet tall. She might not be blonde, though, depending what I do with racial dynamics in this 'verse. Doesn't matter, as calling a woman Goldilocks is less hilarious than a man.)

Maturin is still a dude. They still have absolutely zero sexual chemistry, but profound deep interpersonal love. (This is bookverse, guys. Sorry the gay movie version is great but that's just not where I'm going here.)

Instead of having a lower-class accent and antecedents, I'm translating Tom into being somehow visibly biracial, which can give the same impediment to his being taken seriously for promotion as in canon, but also lets me tie this into the other books I've started in the land-based part of this verse. His mother is descended from mainland mammoth-herders, and I haven't decided what visual characteristics that gives him but it's enough that he gets called racial slurs occasionally. As in canon, Aubrey doesn't particularly notice these things, and cares only that he is competent.

Babbington is a trans dude so I have to figure out how that works in the worldbuilding but this is an extremely useful thing to have and will illuminate all kinds of awesome things for me. As a bonus, it can just be background established fact in the first book I write, and can be a plot point in the prequel if I do come up with anything cool in the worldbuilding, but if not it can just be a like low-key background thing in the prequel too. Who knows! It gives me a ton of material either way. Has potential to establish vivid character dynamics in a minimum of words, I think.

I was trying to solarpunk-ize solid-shot cast-iron cannons and seem to have independently mentally invented electromagnetic rail guns, so I have to research that somewhat but I think I have some good worldbuilding foundations based off that. !!! Exciting. I especially love the idea that the ships can collect and store potential energy that they can use either for propelling the ship without wind, or for firing guns, and so manoevering with sails still carries enormous tactical value because if you can get in position to fire your shots without having expended your generated power, you'll have much more success in battle; conversely, if you realize you're in a poor tactical position, instead of throwing your guns over the side as in the napoleonic era so you can flee faster, you simply empty your power generation banks into your propulsion to get the fuck out of there. And it makes it more solarpunk post-collapse-friendly by having tactics that can prioritize things other than massive loss of life, which doesn't hold with the dynamics of precarious population levels in the other books in this 'verse. Life was cheap in Europe in the 1800s but that doesn't work here. I love the idea of the "battles" being almost entirely manoevering, and it being plain impossible to have just yardarm-to-yardarm prolonged hammering except by rare circumstance.

So anyway that's where I'm at. So far. Stay tuned i guess? Thanks for reading this far, anyone who does. <3

[we-rice-boi]

QUESTION ABOUT DESIGNING YOUR POSTS

Ok so I'm not new to tumblr but I haven't been here for a while so I'm a bit confused about a few things. Mainly post designing.

Like I see how pretty some HC posts/ fics look and I wanna do that to. So if anyone has any tutorials they'd like to recommend or posts that explain how to properly design your posts, id really appreciate it 🙇🏾‍♂️🙇🏾‍♂️

Trust, once I get this shit under control I'll be posting like it's my fucking job because I have so many ideas I wanna write about!!

Anyways thx for reading my disorganized request!! 🫠

Have this meme I made recently as a token of appreciation.

[starmada4546]

Well, in the hours since posting this and it's subsequent migration to reddit, I've gotten some pretty decent responses, (And a lot of people who clearly just didn't read anything I wrote, but some good!), so I'm going to go over some of my points again for the people dozing in the back of the class.

Yes, as of writing this, over 72 million Americans voted for Trump. All of them are ignorant, shortsighted, and selfish at best, and bigoted, traitorous, and just straight up evil at worst. Without those votes, no matter how badly the democratic party screwed the pooch, Trump would not have won. I do not say this to excuse those people. All of those people should be held accountable for their behavior. However, as cynical of an assumption as it may be, one can no longer view American politics through the lens of all the voters trying to elect the candidate that's the best for everyone. Such a lens is an outdated relic of an era in which the evils of politics were done behind smiling masks, and the oppression was done behind closed doors instead of at the top of every media headline in the nation. If there is one thing that this election has made crystal clear, it is that Americans have become more concerned with their own wallets and kitchen tables than with the lives of their neighbors. The problem is that even through that framing, the Democratic party should easily sweep any logical voter, and yet they didn't. Progressivism and class consciousness is the answer to economic anxiety, and yet it was completely ignored by the democrats in this election, and the price for that is what we're seeing now, because the Democrats allowed themselves to be made into the establishment, and allowed the republicans to sell themselves as anti-establishment, regardless of the fact that both are the establishment, and neither wishes to be against the establishment, merely to mold it to their liking.

The fact of the matter is, no matter how evil Trump is, he will always have support. That is his brand. He has famously self-proclaimed that he could commit murder in broad daylight and not lose a single vote, and if there is one thing Trump has ever been correct about, it's that. The Democrats must, must count on the Alt-Right turning up to vote in force for the conservative candidate, and from the numbers they've been doing, the Democrats can't rely on the moderate vote to carry them through that. Hell, it doesn't seem like the Democrats can rely on the moderate vote at all. The DNC has no further right to drift, and yet they keep trying anyway, dropping their supporters from the left to be subsumed by the right, because deep down, they are not aligned with the left. This does not necessarily apply to every registered Democrat everywhere, but the party as a whole has historically only taken up progressive causes when they either see an opportunity to claim moral victory over conservatives. They do not truly care for progressivism, or at least they haven't for many years. They put up a black woman for president and say, "See? Our candidate is two minorities in one! Isn't this what you care about?" No! I'd love to have a black woman in the white house as much as anyone else, but the democrats have fallen so out of touch that I must believe that they genuinely think that "diverse" candidates is enough to guarantee a progressive vote. They saw Obama win two consecutive terms and chalked it up to his skin color, which is absolutely it's own form of racism, by the way. They tried to test this hypothesis in 2016 in Hilary Clinton, another historically unlikable candidate, with no real progressive policy and all her messaging being about her gender and not particularly her competence of fitness for office, while simultaneously dicking over the largest progressive movement in recent history, and they got burned. And the lesson they took from this? It wasn't making sure their candidate reflects the voters wishes, it wasn't learning to message on policy and confidence as I discussed earlier, and it certainly wasn't to not alienate progressive voters. It was "We didn't reach the moderate conservative enough. Clearly, we just didn't reach the moderate wing of the republican party like we should have. Obviously, we must have won the progressive vote, so the problem lies in the center."

It's not merely the entitlement they feel to the progressive vote, it's the fact that they can't conceive of the fact that they didn't get it. Even the moderate wing of the conservative party was never going to vote for a woman, much less a black woman. Meanwhile, there were millions of votes the democrats were counting on, and yet they didn't receive, because they didn't bother actually trying to get them! They felt entitled to the progressive vote. They felt entitled to the black vote. They felt entitled to the queer vote, the Hispanic vote, the female vote, the Arab vote, the sheer entitlement in this party is sickening. The fact of the matter is that they simply can't conceive of a world in which the white moderate does not decide who sits in the Oval Office, and fundamentally, they are against any attempt to change that, because the world in which the white moderate is the deciding vote is the world in which they keep their power. The world wherein the white moderate is the deciding vote is the world wherein they must confront none of their inner biases, because if they are not receiving the votes they feel entitled to, then they must be wrong on a fundamental level. That world is comfortable and familiar to them, it plays by the rules they expect and like, it requires no reexamination, reflection, or introspection. Any acknowledgement that progressives, or POC, or the LGBT+ community are voting blocks that could win them elections if focused on is an acknowledgement that the white moderate is only the deciding vote in the tenuous world order they have constructed, and any attempt to convince Democrats that they need to enfranchise these groups, break up gerrymandered districts, or just Actually Put Some Fucking Effort Into Anyone Else is doomed to failure because of it.

Getting back to the point, yes, the fact that 72 million Americans voted for Donald J. Trump is a disgrace, and every single one of them should be held accountable for the blood that is about to be spilled. But at the end of the day, this is a trolley problem. The Democrats had the ability to avert the trolley, and they fucked that up spectacularly. The man who tied the people to the tracks and set the trolley to run over them is a monster, but his actions are counted upon either way, and so too are Trump's. This debate isn't about the ethics of Alt-Right conservatism. If you've made it this far into this essay, I can reasonably assume you already agree with me that it holds no moral merit worth consideration. It is about the fact that the Democratic party allowed this to happen, and must be held accountable for their actions. Going along with "Vote Blue No Matter Who!" is not a strategy that works. Progressives cannot call upon the party loyalty that conservatives have, in part because progressivism requires the brainpower to analyze the issues and discover the problems, while conservatives typically wait for a strongman to point at something for them to get angry at, but mostly in truth because the Democrats have not delivered like the Republicans have.

Sure, the Republicans don't deliver on a good economy, or fixing the issues they claim to care about, but what they do deliver on is what they stake their campaigns on, and it's bigotry. Say what you will, but when a conservative votes for Trump, they can be confident that Trump will continue to be racist, sexist, and anti-LGBT while in office, and he will make policy accordingly. He will lock migrant children in cages and appoint justices to overturn Roe v. Wade and tear gas progressive protesters. Those are things he said he was going to do whether directly or euphemistically, and he delivered.

Democrats say they will pack the court, and they don't. They say they will codify abortion, and by and large they don't. They talk about a $15 an hour minimum wage, they talk about Medicare and student debt relief and while some of these things have gotten done on a state by state basis, or gained a little ground here and there, walking out of a Democratic presidency, we have the same supreme court, the same minimum wage, arguably worse medical care, and only a sliver of the required student debt relief. I understand that the Biden administration has been fighting rabid obstructionists every step of the way, but at the end of the day, Trump was fighting obstruction during his presidency as well, and yet he still damaged the country to it's core, and now he has free reign of all three branches of government. After being ignored, abused, and seeing almost none of their policy passed, how could a progressive genuinely support the democrats on any systemic level? I got in the dirt to support Harris, and I do genuinely think not voting was a morally reprehensible thing for this election, because progressives should be fighting fascism more than we should care about our honor, but I can at least say I understand.

I can't do solutions yet. Maybe eventually, but right now I'm not sure there is any form of solution. The Democrats have proven themselves historically unable to learn the lessons of failure, and the Fascists have complete control of the government. Pretty much the only solution I can think of at this point is "Hope the democrats are still around in four years, hope our elections are fair enough for them to matter, and hope that maybe, finally this lesson has sunk in, but that's a lot of maybes for a country that we can only imagine right now. There's a lot of ground to lose, and nothing to defend it.

I do want to say this, though, since somebody commented on it to me. I wasn't kidding about the gun thing. If there's any irony to be had here, gun rights will likely be protected for the foreseeable future, because the gun lobby is here to stay, apparently. After Biden's term is up, I would not expect the already limited protections Leftists have had from law enforcement to apply at all. It's unfortunate, (And I Am Definitely Not Advocating For Political Violence Do Not Mistake Me,) but the only protection we are likely to have for the future is ourselves and each other. If you can feel comfortable owning and carrying a firearm, (and there is no shame if you can't) I would highly suggest learning to do so if at all possible. Hate crimes tend not to happen when the Nazis think that their targets can defend themselves; fascists are not known for courage. Even if you never have to use it, and I hope and pray to god nobody does, the fact that they know it's a possibility may save lives in and of itself. Even if you can't do that, I highly suggest something, be it pepper spray, a taser, or a blade, especially if you are a woman. I'd expect to see an increase in physical assaults and rapes over the next couple of years, and if I can protect anyone with my advice, I feel I am obligated to.

Kamala Harris deserved to lose.

That’s a controversial statement, so let me get something out of the way right out the gate: I am not a Trump supporter. I fucking hate Trump’s racist, misogynistic, homophobic, transphobic, fascist guts, and I will until the day I die. I voted for Harris, I volunteered for her campaign and several other local campaigns in my area. I did everything a politically active person should do to participate in our democracy.

And yet I, and anyone who was paying attention knew how this election was going to go ahead of time, for one very simple reason. What were Kamala Harris’s policy positions? What did she actually run on? What did she say she was going to do differently? Building a million homes for working-class people who have had their salaries so undercutted by inflation and price hikes that they can no longer afford the kind of long term saving required for that? Increase child tax credits when grocery prices are so high that nobody can afford another mouth to feed? Raising taxes on billionaires? She’s the Vice President of the current administration, why are they not already being taxed? And furthermore, where is that tax money going? Clearly not Medicare for All, or Student Debt Relief, or anything that could actually constitute benefits for the average citizen.

Discussing which demographics are “responsible” for electing Trump is a fucking stupid discussion, and anyone engaging in it should feel absolutely fucking ashamed at buying into more crap that the oligarchs put up to divide us. Except for a few exceptions, the demographics were coin-flip toss ups. What happened was that Kamala Harris lost 15 million votes. Not to Trump, but to apathy. Trump got 3 million less votes than he did in 2020, and still won, because people didn’t vote for Harris. The battle was in voter turnout, like we always knew it would be, and the Democratic Party lost it. Why?

Because Kamala Harris ran, like Biden did, on being the anti-Trump. And regardless of whether or not you think that the Democrats are responsible for current woes, (and I do not,) that's not a winning strategy when the "Anti-Trump" is the one in power. Being the Anti-Trump isn't a policy position. It's not a solution to anyone's issues. It's merely a hope that people think Trump is worse, and as we've seen, regardless of whether or not it should, that does not win elections. When gas prices or grocery bills are so expensive people can barely afford to survive, saying "Well, those will be worse under Trump," is not a solution. It does not provide confidence that she has plans to fix the issues. It is a shrug of the shoulders, and a dismissal, and that's why so many people stayed home.

In 2020, when the problems could be blamed on Trump without any sort of understanding of the complex issues that caused the problems, because Trump was simply the one in power and The President's Job Is To Fix Everything, so being Anti-Trump worked. When Democrats have been in the white house for four years, and people feel like the problems still aren't fixed, they lose confidence that the democrats will fix the problem, so they don't vote.

When food prices are spiking, you don't say, "The other guy will make it worse," because that's what any candidate would say, and it's not particularly different than just purely mudslinging, and its a claim that Trump will deny vehemently, so you can't win that argument. What you need to say is "I'll subsidize agriculture," or, "I'll increase the accessibility and power of food assistance programs." Regardless of whether or not those things would actually work, what they are is some kind of solid plan to actually fix the fucking problem. It's said that people don't vote on policy, and that's true a lot of the time, or at least more than it should be, but people do vote on confidence, and having policy of any kind builds that confidence. Regardless of what you think of Trump, the man has plenty of plans to implement policy. It's terrible, awful, nation destroying policy, but that's getting into the details and the facts, and that's where the voters' eyes glaze over and they stop listening to you. The fact that Trump has plans to change the status quo and Harris does not is how she lost this election.

When the status quo is untenable, people will vote for whatever breaks it, and that wasn't Harris.

It also doesn't help that Harris has pretty much refused to significantly differentiate herself from Joe Biden, who has plenty of his own problems, and again, is the status quo. Joe Biden refused to step aside and relegate himself to being a single term president because of his personal pride, and the Democrats absolutely refused to consider not backing him until he was forced to step aside when his problematic degradation was put on full display for the entire country to see and mock. Then, instead of holding an actual primary, where voters could choose who they wanted to see on the Democratic ticket, they decided to simply coronate Kamala Harris, a historically unpopular candidate with historically low approval ratings, and force anyone who was against Trump to rally behind a candidate they didn't choose and statistically speaking don't like. Is it any wonder that her ticket hemorrhaged 15 million votes from 2020? That's before getting into her incredibly strange choices during her campaign, from again having essentially no policy positions, to picking a Tim Walz, who while being imo a good person, is from an entirely blue state and not a swing state, and has neither experience running against serious mainline GOP candidates, nor any real nationwide appeal beyond his personality, and we've already established that vibes don't turn out voters.

Kamala Harris, and on a larger scale the Democratic Party, deserved to lose this election because they have almost entirely abandoned any sense of being the progressive option. They've completely abandoned the progressive wing of their party, because who else are they going to vote for? Trump?

I don't like being the guy who says, "Harris hasn't earned the votes," because if you didn't vote, fuck you, you're nearly as culpable in this as the MAGAts, but is it any wonder why progressives are abandoning the democrats? After being ignored, fucked over time after time for nearly a decade at this point, literally screaming and begging for people to care about genocide, fascism, and the literal end of the world and getting a pat on the head and a vote sticker, what the fuck else did anyone expect? Harris cozied up with Liz Cheney and tried to court the votes of a few thousand moderate republicans, while tens of millions of progressive votes were expected, and then you're all trying to to blame them when those votes don't come? Shame, shame on you, ye moderate democrats who'd rather get into bed with the center-right than any kind of progressive, you get what you fucking deserve.

Normally, I'd laugh at establishment democrats fucking around and finding out, but this time, it's not just them finding out, it's the whole of America finding out with them. I don't really have any advice, because I'm just as shattered as anyone else. Hunker down, spend time with your loved ones, and maybe learn how to use a gun in case some neo-nazi decides to try to hate-crime you. I'm hoping that the Democrats learn their lessons from this, but honestly at this point, I'm not sure they're capable of learning, if there'll even be a democratic party to speak of come 2028. Right now, I'm gonna go stare at the election results and feel my faith in humanity crack a little bit more.

[peridots-pixiwolf]

[Start ID. A redraw of the official icons of the ten named slugcats from Rain World, arranged in two rows: Survivor, Monk, Hunter, Nightcat, and Gourmand in the first, Artificer, Rivulet, Spearmaster, Saint and Enot/Inv in the second. Each is drawn in roughly the same pose as in the original art and fitted with speculative interpretations of their biology, and the second image is a “dead” version of this. For example, all ten have slug-like rhinophores in place of ears, cuttlefish-like colorful eyes with strangely-shaped pupils, cephalopod-like beak "teeth", expressive barbels or oral tentacles at the corners of mouths, spiny radulas, and the frilly mantle fringes of sea slugs, though otherwise their faces are squishy, simple and mammalian-shaped.

Cream-colored Survivor and yellow Monk both share triangular, bicolored spots matching their eyes (which are tan and brown, and two shades of blue, respectively), small, bumpy fringes, and relatively neutral looks on their faces. Defensive-looking Hunter is mostly a dull orange-pink, though their blobby fringe is a more violent red and their back is purple and marred with lumps. Nightcat is navy blue and flecked with dots of yellow and teal, their rolled rhinophores are a lighter blue, and their shading fractures into stars in some places. Gourmand is almost uniformly tan, their wide, very ruffly white mantle fringe bordered by a spray of white spots, and their beak sticks out from either corner of their smile. Primarily red Artificer, snarling, has yellow markings of multiple sorts, a prominent yellow dewlap and their characteristic dark scar taking out a chunk of its face. Rivulet is a darker blue than usual, with long barbels, red gills and rings, countershading, and a cheerful expression, sticking out their radula. Spearmaster is purple with orange accents, eyes and spots, a large fringe and spines down their back. Saint’s green caryophyllidia are marked by small, yellow diamonds, and their long, thin radula extends far below them. Enot is decorated with mottled red stripes, blue patches, yellow stars, and an uneven and almost cartoonish imitation of blush, though generally the same deep blue as Nightcat, a passive or almost slightly smug look on their face and their rolled rhinophores out to either side.

In the second image, nine of the slugcats’ eyes are crossed out, indicating that these are death icons. They look fairly the same, with mostly expression differences. Survivor is caught in the beginning of a threat display, a karma flower sprouts from Monk’s side, Hunter is burdened with overgrowing, purple and blue rot, Nightcat’s rhinophores are pinned back, and Gourmand looks mildly disheartened. For the final row, Artificer bites its radula between small plumes of smoke, Rivulet drops their expression, Spearmaster looks very startled, Saint looks almost entirely the same besides half-open eyes and their markings greater in number, and Enot grins confusedly. End ID]

If you'll excuse the unusually lengthy ID: the arena meme introduced by @pansear-doodles at long last after a nearly year-long wip status (or, rather, finished a month ago today to honor my own first time playing it!)

Design notes and shout-outs under cut! :]

The following people are some of those who’ve inspired my designs most since I started this eight months ago (or just inspired me to get a little weirder with slugcat biology), among many others for sure, and I thank them for it–but this is simply to bring attention to artists I find cool, and in no way an obligation to interact or anything :]

> @saturncoyote , @carpsoup , @charseraph , @gallusgalluss , @bitsbug , @dopscratch , and @0hmanit (and a special mention to dddeerbo and hunterlonglegs, who’ve since deactivated)!

Survivor: Surprisingly the hardest to pin down the colors for, since nothing with its sibling's palette seemed to match up right (I did have to add in a little blue somewhere for Monk, the beginning of making it clear how much I’m simply going based off of vibes for the colors of scug innards). I consider them, Monk and Gourmand to be part of the same gene pool of slugcats, and even possibly the same colony even if the latter isn't really related, so took a bit of Gourmand's coloring and fit them in with their inspiration: Goniobranchus verrieri. They serve as a bit of an introduction to my ideas of scug traits (i find it really fun how many people have thought to add so many silly sluglike fixtures of biology completely independent of me, buuut here I’m mostly talking about species variation), and like in-game they’re pretty average! They, Monk and Hunter have a couple scars sourced from a piece of Joar's concept art that I'm failing to find, those across the bridge of the nose, under the eyes, and across the rhinophores, respectively, and my Survivor interpretation features many on the back of the neck, as a result of survived lizard bites.

Monk: Their coloring is primarily based off the fact that I associate them with blue fruits, honestly, a bit because I was compelled to establish a familiarity with Rivulet, and lastly inspired by the spots of Goniobranchus kuniei (and geminus, less important to me as one of my characters is a kuniei instead, but more fitting). Between the yellow + blue and the circular marking in the center of their face, they’re meant to bear a little resemblance to an iterator that shares similarities with the characterization I’ve given them, and similar coding of her sibling can be seen on Survivor’s markings around the eyes. As both a “default” slugcat and one whose campaign I haven’t played, though, I can’t say I have much more to point out about em.

Hunter: The whole rot thing made for a really fun time drawing them, and while the color change on their back is a result of this, it’s also an excuse to relate them to Babakina festiva, arguably my favorite sea slug (mostly for sentimental purposes). And to Spearmaster, a fellow messenger slugcat, and it serves as a gradient between Hunter’s pink and the “traditional��� color of Rot seen in the DLLs. Aside from their affliction, they’d actually be the plainest in terms of design, as they don’t have any patterns or quirks of body type, just the red + purple and strange lumps + possible malnutrition. I can’t remember if NSH had created them in particular or just...caught + released or something, but it probably wouldn’t be strange for a lab-grown slugcat to be simple like that.

Gourmand: Like the two above, they’re rather plain in terms of coloring and adaptation, and like the two above, I find that fun. I decided it would be nice to avert the “all slugcats being of the same body type, and Gourmand’s out of place as the exception” thing by just...adding more fat to all of them, really. I did want to emphasize their sheer bulk even so, both fat and muscular (not like I couldn’t have still gone further with it, of course, but slugcat anatomy can be a little obfuscating sometimes, and they were intended to look rather plush considering personal size headcanons and therefore the lack of proper gravity), and the thick and flounced mantle looked like a good addition, as per their sea slug Glossodoris hikuerensis. Unlike Survivor and Monk, I didn’t attempt to hold their resemblance to any particular other character (which means a little less to balance out the “default gene pool” thing), so those are all the design notes I have for em.

Artificer: The second slugcat I’ve ever played, or finished the campaign of, my favorite for at least a long time, and the first thing I did was give them yellow accents, the shape of which have troubled me slightly (not quite like the spots or stripes of the others). They’re both a little more appealing and more explosive-looking to me, and considering how early on I played Arti, actually present in some of my older art. It does give them a little resemblance to Saint (completely intentional, two slugcats with strange relations to karma), as well as the fact that its radula is green for familiarity with one of its children (at some point it was going to have all-green markings, even!). I’m generous with their scars, partly because it was fun to overemphasize the one on their face and partly because it does seem like a reckless slugcat, on top of the dangers of its explosive abilities–I’ll probably just keep adding more forever. Mostly-red sea slugs aren’t too common, but Hexabranchus sanguineus works for sure. The ridged, yellow dewlap can expand for combustion purposes, or something along those lines. Arti’s where I began experimenting with a lot of the mildly-offkilter features seen in my interpretation of slugcats, as they’ve once again been a favorite from the start.

Rivulet: I've obviously given other slugcats spots, deeply enjoy the bubbly-soda markings of other peoples' slugcats, and thought seal riv would be cute. Despite not too closely resembling it, they've been government-assigned Hypselodoris bennetti, for color reasons and for a couple sentimental ones. Originally, the colors of every scug were meant to match up with the custom colors I gave them at the beginning of their campaigns, (though Arti, Gourm and Spearmy are the only three who actually apply here, since I've only played through half the slugcats: I gave arti the yellow as mentioned above, gourm brown eyes and spearmy light pink spears, furthered by the outskirts pearl accompanying me and that palette all the way to moon. Tolerance training for eternity in hell cause I already knew about the maroon pearl quest). I initially gave them the colors of the bi flag for fun... but with the limited palette of this image, I was left without pink for a while and decided to see how they'd look in red. I then realized how they now wonderfully matched Moon, and besides, red's a sort of camouflage in deep water! As a side-note, the difference between their eyes and those of others always bothered me a little for anatomical purposes, and the cephalopod eyes were probably influenced by this!

Spearmaster: Inspired as much as possible by @notyourfunnyman ’s wonderful spearmy: designed in a way that helps it fit in with scavengers, at least between the long sensory tentacles, big ruff, back spines and slightly thin/distended anatomy, a form of defensive mimicry. I always had annulate rhinophores in mind, for a little diversity sure, but mostly because the shape reminds me of radio antennae and communication towers (seems fitting for the comms array and being a messenger slugcat)! I started searching for a real-life slug to give them just by looking up their rhinophore shape...and was met immediately and coincidentally with annulate-topped nudibranchs that fit them more perfectly than I could've imagined: Flabellina and surrounding clades, I think Paraflabellina ischitana works very nicely. The orange was completely unplanned, but there wasn’t a place for light pink among the other slugcats’ palettes, and importantly it likens them to both Hunter and Seven Red Suns a little more.

Saint: I am very much a non-furred slugcat enjoyer, with respect to those who aren’t, so figuring out the only visibly furred slugcat was an interesting challenge. I’ve decided that they likely have other, milder adaptations for help in the cold, mainly just more efficient fat storage, and what looks vaguely like fur is instead a bunch of tubercles (called caryophillia, for the second reminder out of three). Their inspiration doesn’t have these, however, Miamira sinuata’s numerous yellow and blue spots (not to mention...whatever’s going on with that shape) and general effect of being the only really green nudibranch I could find were probably perfect for a strange green echo. Not pictured, but their beak-teeth are tiny and flat to make a surface for grinding soft food against with the lack of a functioning radula, which is tipped with a specialized spiny “grapple-hook” for better traction/grip (not to mention the numerous little teeth running down the whole thing).

(Best part of hiding this under a readmore means edits will be seen by all reblogs, I'm mostly sure, because I completely forgot to mention! The spots on their forehead are simple eyes. Their camera eyes appear closed in-game, I like to believe their complex eyesight is rather poor anyways or otherwise reason that they aren't seeing out of those, and while this was far from her REASON for attunement with the world, it does help compensate for mainly viewing it through a canvas of simple light and dark. This, and the fact that their swapped-out "fur" is not only to commit to a lack of hairs but contributes to sensory input!)

Nightcat/Enot: I guess you could say I found the “these two are technically the same person” compelling. (E.g. similar colors, both very strange and enigmatic, and Enot/Inv/Sofanthiel’s remark during the dating sim about getting removed from Arena Mode.) I doubt they’re the only two slugcats in their body, considering humans with DID tend to have more than a few (and I find it very funny that a slugcat bearing resemblance to Nightcat appears in Gourmand’s ending. They’re allowed in the colony and Enot isn’t </3), and I have to credit @faelingdraws ’s art for being what convinced me on it! Their design inspirations come down to trying to balance a few different ideas: making the patterns and palettes of both look oddly similar (special mention to the stars, since those are fun to draw), basing them off of Felimare sechurana and juliae respectively, using blocks of color with the same placement as in Enot’s official art, and specifically making Enot look...biologically reasonable and imperfect, whilst also clearly trying to imitate human displays of emotion (what with...the eyes and blush on that one piece of official art).

Lastly, here’s just a lineup with notes on body shape and size. Most of the nicknames (existing to give a little more space, that’s all) are obvious, and while I can’t remember why I shortened Nightcat to Nox, it is in honor of my friend by the same nickname :]

[happyk44]

The thing was Percy didn't like being a bad kid. Every time he got kicked out of a school or wound up in the counselor's office over some incident he wasn't completely blameless for, his mom's brows would pinch. The line on her lip dipped. He knew what she was thinking each time: lost wages, job risk, who was going to watch him if he got suspended, where would she send him if he got kicked out, and so on.

He hated that he did that to her. Being a bad kid meant being a bad son. He refused to be a bad son - not on purpose anyway.

Well, he used to. She wasn't here anymore. Her brows weren't going to furrow. Her lips wouldn't thin. Her shoulders wouldn't draw up and tense before the principal even opened their mouth. It was over.

He didn't have anyone anymore. Nobody at cabin eleven would look at him. Other cabins steered around him like he was carrying the plague. Grover was off doing whatever satyrs did - probably getting ready to infiltrate some new school, befriend some new kid, save their lives. He didn't need Percy. It’d only been a few days but they'd barely interacted. Older satyrs would yank him along into the wood before Percy could get close or even open his mouth. Even Annabeth just eyed Percy with scrutinizing eyes - like she was assessing him for something. But every time he tried to approach her outside of their lessons, she brushed him off.

No one wanted Percy around.

What was the point of being a good kid anymore? There wasn't anything or anyone forcing him to keep his head above water. He was tired of the murmurs. He was tired of the avoidance. Tired of the glares from the Ares cabin. Tired of trying to keep the quake in his stomach tamped down.

He was just tired.

He thumbed along the flat edge of his sword. His new best friend was the pervasive feeling of loneliness. With a miserable sigh, he tucked the sword into the holster on his hip. People barely wanted to spar with him now so he was stuck to sweating it out on the dummies by himself. At least only when Luke wasn't pushing him as hard as possible.

But even with Luke there seemed to be pause. The first time Percy felt his gut yank after being claimed had been in training with Luke, and as soon as the feeling caught him, Luke begged off. Like he'd seen something in Percy that unnerved him. Sometimes when Percy looked in the mirror, he saw something in his eyes that unnerved him. A foreign thing - like a contact lens put in the wrong way.

No amount of poking or prodding at his eyes was going to get it out though. It was inside him - in his blood. He was sure of it.

He was starting to worry that it was the very thing he'd been keeping back, the very thing his mom was trying to keep him safe from.

The clang of metal against metal was loud as he walked past other trainees. There were a couple people leaning against the wall near the water fountain. As expected, they shifted away as he neared. Mistrust was bright in their eyes.

He did his best to ignore it. Not the first time people had stared at him like they thought he was dangerous. Or beneath them.

The water sprayed for a moment before he lowered his head. It was clarifying. He'd noticed it before, a burst of energy with every sip whenever he was tired, but ever since being claimed, he'd noticed the alertness more and more.

As he let go of the button, he caught the tail end of the muttering nearby. His stomach dropped.

“... should've ditched him sooner,” one boy grumbled. His friend snorted. “Maybe then she wouldn't have died.”

“What did you say?” The two startled. Percy understood why. He barely recognized his own voice, the eerie coldness to it frosty on his own tongue. Still, he repeated as he twisted on his heels to face them. “What. Did you just say?”

Panic besot them. For a second, the barest of a second, he could feel it kick in - be a good boy for me, Percy, be a good kid for Mom.

But she wasn't here.

She wasn't here.

So what was the point?

He took a step forward. “What,” he snarled, saliva coating his tongue like froth, “did you say?”

The others shifted away but he just crept forward. “Nothing, man,” one of them finally bit out, but they were lying. He could see it in their eyes, hear in their voice, feel it in their veins.

“You're lying,” he said. A bitten off laugh echoed from his lips. “You were talking about my mom.” Another choked laugh. “You think it's my fault?”

One of them raised his hands - a mock surrender. “Hey, dude-”

“You think I wanted her to die?” A sharp sensation coiled through Percy's chest. It thrummed hot and heavy, piling, piling, piling on his lungs. “You think I asked for ANY OF THIS?”

Someone's hand came to rest on his shoulder and it was like the crashing of the waves against his bare feet. Cold, clarifying, clear.

Freeing.

His fist drove straight into the jaw of whoever was behind him. He could barely tell who he was seeing - it might've been Luke, or any other tall blonde guy. But as soon as whoever it was stumbled back, he whirled around and punched whichever kid was closest in the stomach. They went down and he clambered on top to wail. Fist and fist upon whatever body part he could reach. He wasn't the most elegant hand-to-hand fighter but there was something to be said for the voracious and vicious energy boiling through him.

Distantly he was aware of yelling around him, aware of people pulling at him, aware of the person beneath him crying, arms over their face, arms Percy was tired of hitting. He needed to get their face, get their tongue, rip his mom from their mouth. How dare they speak about her.

How dare anyone talk about her.

A dozen hands finally yanked him back. He screamed. Bodies toppled. He grabbed the closest one by their hair, driving his knee upwards over and over again until hands ripped him away again. Swung blindly and caught someone. The two of them fell. His stomach pulled back. They choked. They weakened. He swung himself over until he was on top.

I want you all to drown, he thought, grabbing at their jaw. Don't ever speak of her again.

Saliva smeared across his fingers. His stomach pulled back even more. What was that - blood, water? On his hands, on his knees, on their skin, on their faces, in their veins.

His free hand drew out. He wanted it. It was his. Didn't they get that? She was his, and she was gone, so he would take and take all else that belonged to him until the hole in his chest was gone. Until the water they had coursing inside them filled him up.

“Percy,” someone whispered.

Their voice was familiar, breath hot against Percy's ear. He twitched. The feeling of nearby water, nearby fluid, was clenched tight in his fist. He just had to pull back. Yank it. Make it his.

The voice turned pleading. “Percy.”

He froze as two hot hands came to clasp his cheeks, dark brown eyes and curly hair blurring into view. Grover's face.

“Grover,” he breathed. For the first time since he'd ended up at camp, he relaxed.

Grover's thumbs stroked his skin. “Yeah, it's me.” He leaned in closer. “Percy, you need to stop.”

“Stop?”

“You're hurting people," he said. “You have to stop.”

Why? Percy thought. He didn't care. He didn't care if they hurt, didn't care if they drowned where they laid choking, didn't care if they suffered. It didn't mean anything to him. They didn't mean anything to him.

But this was Grover.

And with his mom gone, Grover meant the world.

“You want me to stop?”

“Yes,” Grover said. His breath was warm, his skin hot, his body close. Distantly Percy remembered nights at school like this - Grover tucked up next to him, trying his best to help Percy study when most people would've bailed. “I want you to stop.”

His lips were wobbling. His eyes were thick with wetness. His voice was unsteady - trying to be calm and rapidly failing. Even his hands shook.

Percy grabbed at his wrists. “Okay,” he whispered as he clung. His stomach relaxed slowly, the crash turning into a tickle. “I'm good, I'm good.”

Shakily, Grover exhaled, pressed his forehead to Percy's, and murmured, “I know, I know.”

His hands pulled away from Percy's face, but not away from him, arms wrapping around his neck and pulling him in for a tight hug. Percy's breathing wobbled as he tucked his face into the crook of Grover's neck. He clung tight and desperate. Pleading.

No, he couldn't be a good son anymore. He didn't have to bother keeping in check to avoid the thin line of his mom's lips. But he could be a good friend. To keep the tears out of Grover's eyes, the tremble from his skin.

“I can be good,” he promised quietly, for Grover's ears only. “I promise I can be good.”

“I know,” Grover said. His cheek pressed against Percy's. “I believe you.”

-

The fountain nearby trickled quietly. The steady flow soothed the unease between Percy's shoulders. Still, he squeezed the pillow in his grip tighter to his chest as he watched Grover flit around the bunk closest to him. He snapped the final end of the sheet around the mattress. Hooves clopped quietly against the tile as he stepped back. His gaze flickered between Percy's bed and his own.

Then he grunted and began pushing it closer.

Percy hopped up. The discarded pillow slipped from his fingers and onto the floor. He nearly tripped over it trying to get to Grover's side. They pushed the other bunk over until it was pressed into Percy's.

While Grover unfurled his blanket, Percy stepped back. Awkwardness choked him. He didn't know what to do, what to say. So he picked the pillow off from the floor and pressed it into his chest. Grover didn't spare him many glances as he worked to make up the bed. Leaning across his bunk, he yanked Percy's blanket from between the seam where the two bed frames connected and began tying the edges of both blankets together. It was shoddy work, no way it wasn't coming apart just from them lying on the sheets, much less sleeping.

But Grover did it anyway.

As he shifted back, hooves scraping the floor, Percy held out the pillow. Grover dusted off the top then laid it against the headboard. With both hands on his hips, he admired his work. Percy stared at it too. It was nice. Joined bed. Grover within direct reach.

His palms itched.

“Are you scared of me?”

Grover twisted around. His brows furrowed, but the edges of his lips were quirked upwards. It was reminiscent of school - Percy stumbling over something he read and Grover, lost but amused, over why Percy thought it was a man-of-war that Theseus fought.

He was partially grateful Grover cut him off before he could finish what he actually thought the sentence was trying to say. It certainly wasn't fight.

“I mean,” Grover started and Percy's stomach drew back. Behind him the trickle of the fountain silenced. Like the water was holding its breath too. “I'm scared for other people, but I'm not scared of you.” He punched Percy's arm with a quiet smile. “I know you're not going to hurt me, Percy. That's why I stopped you.”

The fountain began to trickle again. “And that-” He faltered. The ghost Grover's touched goosed up his bicep and across his shoulder. “-that doesn't worry you?”

That you might have to stop me again went unspoken but Grover was always good at understanding Percy's unspoken words, at knowing his unspoken feelings - even the ones Percy wasn't even aware he felt.

He sighed. “It worries me. But not because it's you.” He shook his head. “And definitely not because I'm scared of you hurting me.”

His eyes scanted away, brows furrowing deeper. Then he relaxed into the bed. After teetering on his heels for a couple seconds, Percy joined him. He gripped the edge of his shorts so tight his palms burned. Grover reached over to stroke along the back of his hand.

He exhaled slowly and let go.

“You remember Pan?” Grover asked.

Percy paused. “The satyr god, right?”

“Yeah.” Grover pulled away to tug at his fingers. “He's been missing for a while. Ever since the industrial age took off. And no one knows where he is. It's the dream of every satyr to find him, so that nature can return to the way it was.”

“That your dream?”

He nodded solemnly. “You have to be a Protector first, before you can get your Searcher’s license. But I'm not like the others.” His gaze fell down. His hands sat in his lap, cupped around nothing but air. “I don't want him just so we can bring nature back to its peak.” He sighed. “We were a lot different when Pan was still around. More free. More wild. I want satyrs and nymphs - all of us to be us again!”

Percy leaned into him. “What's stopping you?”

Grover snorted. “People forgot. We were more than just Pan's disciples. We fought to protect the wild from mankind. We didn't just sit around waiting for him to tell us what to do. But nobody wants to do anything.” He scowled. “They think when Pan returns he'll fix it all and I-” He bit his lip, then shook his head. “The world has changed. And gods don't get involved like that. Not to the extent they want him to. It's not in their nature. But if he comes back then maybe…”

He faced Percy. His eyes were watery, darkening the already dark brown of his eyes into shots of black. The welled tears glistened ever so slightly. Like the night sky, free of pollution.

His lips wobbled into a gentle smile. “But that's why I'm not afraid. You’re like nature at its purest form - chaotic, wild, unburdened.”

Normally those words wouldn't hit Percy as compliments. Insults, degradation - things that would deflate him and make his mom frown. But Grover sounded so earnest, his heart swelled.

“You can't tell, but I can feel it.” He swung his arm over Percy's shoulders and tugged him in close. “Your demigod essence, this sense of the wild that I've been searching for my whole life.” He gestured loosely. “Even the Demeter kids don't have that. Their mom is all agriculture and farming and that's great and all, but it's not pure nature, it's not the wild.” He squeezed Percy's shoulder as best he could with one hand. “You remind me of home, Percy.”

The frog Percy hadn't noticed in his throat jumped out with a burst sob-laugh. He tried to tile away, but Grover just tugged him close, bringing around his other arm to keep Percy pinned. Nonetheless his hold was fairly loose, like Percy was a stray cat he didn't want scratching him if he felt like running.

Or like he knew that Percy was the ocean through and through, unwilling to be contained, wanting to flow wherever he saw fit.

Percy practically crawled into his lap, sniffling into Grover's shoulder. Warm hands stroked up and down his back. He laughed quietly - a half-distressed noise marrying the sound, but managed a breathy wheeze of, “You remind me of home too.”

Grover kissed the top of his head. For the first time since arriving, he shattered. All his twisted up emotions committed out in a tidal wave of tears and broken gasps. All the while Grover held him. As tight as Percy clung to him, he didn't complain. Just held on even tighter. Wetness from Grover's own tears smeared across Percy's skin.

Ever the empathetic. Like his mom.

Percy squeezed his eyes shut. “Please don't leave without saying goodbye,” he begged in a hollow, hoarse whisper.

“I won't,” Grover promised.

They held onto each other even as tears and cries faded away. Grover kept stroking his back with both hands. Percy continued to cling.

Shoulders shaking, Percy wound the fabric of Grover's shirt over his fingers. After a few minutes of toiling silence, he whispered. “I think I'm changing.” He pressed his forehead to Grover's collarbone. “I'm scared.” He pulled back and stared into Grover's eyes. “What do I do?”

“Be my best friend,” Grover said, like it was the simplest answer in the world. And as soon as the words fell off his tongue, it did. How silly was Percy not to think of it before? “My best friend is a good person, the best kind of wild.”

“I can do that,” Percy promised. “I swear, I can do that.”

“I know,” Grover said, squeezing Percy's cheek. His thumb swiped away at a still wet tear under Percy's eye. The stroke was soft, gentle. Kind. “I believe you.”

[qcomicsy]

Lately I've only been wishing to grab a comic about my favorite character and just have a genuinely good time reading it.

[thehappiestgolucky]

ah, the quest that emotional ruins Fe'gahl, whether Pawn or Arisen, for a good while~

[thevioletcaptain]

activating focus beams via this tumblr post in an attempt to motivate myself to get through a decent portion of this week's to-do list before my vaccine booster makes me a zombie for 24 hours

just gonna throw my to-do list on here to get it out of my brain

incorporate the most recent round of feedback/notes from my classmates/instructor into the final draft of my star trek: strange new worlds spec script, which is due midnight on thursday ‎

finish the short horror script i've been tinkering with to hopefully submit to a screenwriting contest by tomorrow (technically the contest is still accepting submissions for another two weeks, but the early deadline is tomorrow night so i'd like to get it in by then!) ‎

brainstorm a couple of potential rough pilot ideas for a really fun series concept my friend-slash-old-writing-partner has asked me to work on with him and send them over by the weekend ‎

read and give notes on another friend's half hour pilot and another classmate's one hour spec

also once all of this is done i'll have about two weeks of nothing due, which means time to work on some fic and fan art! several things are like 🤏 this close to publishable so i've been dying to get to them.

[smile-files]

i continue to find ii3 baffling. why did they make it (this isn't to hate on the season, i'm genuinely curious)

[milkyberryjsk]

i graduated ^__^

[verdantglow]

Me two hours ago: I should go take a shower.

Also me: [rediscovers my smalletho playlist on Spotify & listens to it in its 1hr52min entirety while backreading the smalletho tag on tumblr for the first time in months & having So Many Feelings about these idiots instead]

Anyway. Time to go actually shower.

While listening to my smalletho mall au fic playlist, of course.