#WHEN WE GOT NAUSA??????????

[crehador]

that moment during yoyoyo where the spotlights are on them and soma is just innocently standing there while nozu is on the floor. on his hands and knees. peak gendice moment lmao

[dr-past-hour]

All the writing in brackets is informal referencing. Example: (secondary source: Every man and his health.2012) (Please note some sources have non english titles)

Are you suffering from joint pain? indigestion? Fever? Swollen eyes? Insomnia? Diarrhoea? Excess phlegm in the throat? Inflammation-Wait me start again. Are you suffering from anything at all? (Primary source: Euery Manin His Hvmovr. 1598)

Maybe it physical but emotional you’re feeling angry, grieved, despondent, annoyed or- again let me start again are you feeling anything that isn’t happy? (Primary source: Euery Manin His Hvmovr. 1598)

I have my diagnosis. One of your 4 humours is out of balance.

This ancient medical practise and theory dates all the way back to Ancient Rome and Greece in 400 BCE. Namely Hippocrates who was the first man to establish medicine as a science based on observation and evidence. Hippocrates was the first man to look toward medicine as the answer to sickness instead of superstition. Described as the founder of western medicine. Although knowledge of human antonmoy was very limited. At the time it was forbidden to dissect a human body.Even a dead one. So all these proto physicians (the term doctor wont be invented till the 14th century). Were the fluids that came out the body. (Secondary Academic source: Greek Medicine from Hippocrates to Galen:2012)

1.Blood. The discovery of blood is credited to Galen. A Greek proto physician. Best known for bringing philosophy into medicine.

(Secondary Academic source: Galen’s theory of Black Bile 500 BCE)

2 Yellow Bile. The very first person is Alcmaeon of Croton in 500 BCE to have discovered it. A greek proto physician who moved to Rome.

(Primary Source: On Nature by Alcmaeon. Unknown date. Maybe 500 BCE)

3 Black Bile. It was discovered by Galen again. Around the same time as blood

(Secondary Academic source: Galen’s Theory of Black Bile. 500BCE)

4 phlegm. Discovered by Hippocrates in 400 BCE. (Secondary Accemdic source: Greek Medience from Hippocrates to Galen 2013)

All 4 of these humors appeared together in The Hippocratic book “On the Nature of Man”

There was one last key player in the popularizing the 4 humors theory. Aristotle. Who practised medicine. Believing the heart to be the most vital organ in the body and the seat of human intelligence. He strongly advocated for Hippocrates’ 4 humor theory. (Primary source: Aristotle’s Zoology 300 BCE)

It would be this medical theory that would dominate medical understanding for the next 2000 years

Now that we have established who, where and why it was invented. We can study the humours themselves.

What is actually blood? Well modern science explains how blood is a red liquid that circulates through out the body and carries various nutrients, oxygen and carbon dioxide around the body to the needed tissues. ( academic source: Oxford Dictionary 2021)

What did the ancients think blood was? They knew it was a vital fluid needed for people to survive. If they lost too much. They would die. It was later theorised that blood only came from the liver.( secondary accemdic source: Knowledge of Circulation Before William Harvey 2020)

What actually is yellow bile? A greenish/brown fluid created by the liver and stored in the gallbladder. It aids the body in breaking down salts and cholesterol. (Secondary accemdic source: Oxford Dictionary 2021)

What did the accenits think yellow bile was? A greenish/brown fluid. Later it was theorised to have come from the gallbladder. It was thought to dilute the blood (primary source: The Hippocratic Book on the Nature of Man 400BCE)

What is phlegm ? A stringy, slippery liquid produced in the tissues lining the body it acts as a lubricant keeping vital organs from drying out. (Secondary accemidic source: Oxford Dictionary 2021)

What did the acients think Phlegm was? Phlyem was believed to be harmful when in excess in the body. Phlegm was supposed to absorb toxins in the body when poisoned. Then the toxin would leave the body when spat out. (Secondary Accemdic source. A Confluence of Humors N/D)

What is Black Bile? As far as research goes. Black bile does not seem to be a real thing according to modern science.

(A lot of secondary accemic sources. Too many to list)

What did the ancients think black bile was?

Black bile was thought to be healthy for the entire body. When in the right amount. Later on it thought was produced by the spleen. Most likely black bile was the result of some other illness that discoloured another body fluid (secondary accemdic source: The Concept of Black Bile 2021)

What happened when the humors were out of balance?

Black bile: black bile is heavy, cold and dry. An excess was thought to cause mental disorders like depression. Constipation, menstrual cramps, darker urine and poop, discolouration of the skin, wrinkles, dryness.

A primary source: Minerva Britana written in 1612, speaks of a pateint suffering from too much Black Bile. (Please note it is in Old English)

“Heere Melancholy mufing his fits. Pale Vifag’d, of complexion cold and drie. All folitarie, at his ftudie fits. Within in a wood, devoid of companie. Saue Madge the Owle, and the melancholy Puffe, Light-loathing creatures. Hateful and ominous.

His mouth in figne of filence. Vp is bond. For melacholy loves not many words. One foote on Cube is fixt vpon the ground. The which him plodding confranne affords. A fealed Purfe he bears, fhew no vice. So proper to him as Avarice. “

Translated it talks of a depressed man sitting alone in the woods with a cold, dry pale face. He had only an owl and a cat for company. (Two feared and hated creatures of the day) An indication of his depression is his silence. One foot on a cube providing a dull steadiness and in his other had a purse of gold showing he has no other vice but greed.

Treatment: eating laxatives such as oil to rid the body of exccess black bile.

Rubbing the body oils on the body and in the nostiles to ease dryness (seocndary accemdic source The Concept of Black Bile 2021)

Yellow bile: Not a lot of it was present in the body. It is the lightest of all the humors. Excess caused yellowing eyes and skin, acne. Bad breath, nausa, itching burning, private part issues, constant thirst, loss of appotate, pins and needles, feeling stressed, anaxeria, anger

A passage from the same primary source Minerva Britina from 1612 (Again. Old English)

“Next stands yellow bile, refembling the face moft the fire. Of fwarthei yeallow, and a meager face; with a sword a late. Vnfheathed within a little fpace. A fterne ie’de Lion, and by him aflield. Charg’d with a flame, vpon a crimsonfield. We paint him young, to fhew that paffions raigne. The moft in heedles, and vnftaited youth. That Lion fhowes, he feldome can refraine. From cruell deede, devoide of gentle ruth. Or hath perhaps, this beaft to him affign’d. As bearing moft, the brue and bounteous mind.

This translates to: Next stands yellow bile who resembles fire the most (side note: we shall get to the elemental humors soon) and having a face dark yellow and thin. He has a sword that he has taken out of his shealth in anger and close to him is a stern eyed lion. He also has a shield of crimson and flames on it. He’s painted young to show his passions that control him. The lion shows he is unable to keep from performing cruel acts. He is a thoughtless and undisplined young man. But the lion also shows intense bravery and a wide mind.

How to cure: herbal mixures of bitter plants to cool and detoxy the body from anger. (Secondary accemdic source: Herbal Academy. 2021)

Phlyem: cold and moist. Causing a temperament that is slow and sleepy, unemotional. Intense coughing, obesity.

(Primary source: Medical Treatment in the Middle ages. 1230)

Blood letting was the typical treatment.

The following is Taken from a manuscript of instructions for a doctor. Written in 1230. Translated into modern English

“during very hot weather blood letting should not be done because the humours the good flow out quicker than the bad. Nor should the blood letting be done in really cold weather as the humours will compact into the body and not drain. If the blood appears black, draw it off til it becomes red. If thick draw it til it is watery. Blood letting clears the mind. Strengthens the memory, cleans the stomach, sharpens the hearing, develops the senses, promotes digestion, produces a musical voice, feeds the blood, rids it of toxins and brings long life. It rids sicknesses from fever, pain and other”

(Side note. I would have also added “rids the body pain, fever and of life.” But i think that would have scared patients off)

Taken from the Primary source Minvera Britiana written in 1612. Old english again.

“Heere sits Phlegme fits coughing on a Marble feate. As citie-vfurers before their dore. Of bodie groffe, not through exeffee of meate. But of a drofie, he had got of yore. His flothfull hand, in bofome ftill he keepes. Drinkes, fspits, or nodding in the chimney fleepes. Beneathe his feete, there doth a tortoilflio crall, for flowefte pace, the sloth heiroglyphick here. For phlemegmatitque, hates labour moft of all. As by his courge araimient, may appeare. Nor is he better furninhed I find. With science or other virtues of the mind”

Translated

“Here phlegm sits coughing on the marble floor. Just like money leanders in the city in front of their gold. His body is fat. Not because he eats too much meat but because he has dropsy. So fluid has collected in his body. He keeps his lazy hand in his shirt. As he drinks and spits and nods off to sleep by the chimminy. A tortise crawls under his feet. Showing his laziness because phylem hates working most of all as his rag clothes show nor does he study and put his mind to good use.

Blood. Hot and moist. It is the vital force of the body. A perfect balance of blood would mean the person is happy, balanced and peaceful. Blood is hardly ever the cause of sickness. It gets contaminated by excess of the 3 other humours. Blood letting is used to rid the bloodstream of the excess other humor thus restoring balance. ( primary source: Medicine of the Middle ages.1312)

(I have gone over already at the top how doctors used bloodletting in the middle ages.)

Taken from the primary source: Minervia Britiana written in 1612. Remember old english

“The aeirie Sanguine, in wholfe youthfull cheeke. The pefrene Rofe and lilly doe contend. By nature is benigne and gentile meek. To mufiuk and all merriment a friend. As feeminth by his flowers and girlondes gay, Wherewith he delights him, all the merry may. And by him browzing, of the climbing vine. The lutfulgoate is feene. Which may import his pronenes both to women and to wine. Bold, boutious, friend unto the learned folk. Faire spokene, bafful, feld anger moo’urd”

Airy Sanguine. Whose youthful cheek is both pink and white, he is naturally kind and humble. Loving all music and fun. This is shown by the flowers around him. Near him are a climbing vine and lustful goat. Showing his love of wine and women. He is bold, generous, a friend to all. Fit to studies. Most loving and fair spoken. Seldom angry.

(Side note He’s basically a mary-sue)

The story of the 4 humors doesnt end there. It also entails seasons and, elements. This was all found in Empedocles theory, written in about 460 BCE (primary source Medical Treatment in the Middle Ages. 1230)

Blood was spring and the element of air and childhood

Yellow bile was summer and the element of fire and young adulthood

Black bile was autumn and the element of earth. And middle age

Phlegm was winter and the element of water and old age

The only reasons given behind these seemingly random associations was that Empedocles saw that the earth naturally creates both the four elements and the seasons. He also noted how plants and animals were born, grew up and died. Just like people and therefore concluded at all of these occurrences in nature must happen in the human body.

The four humours theory was disproven in the 19th century. (Secondary academic source. History of Medicine.2021)

[mc-doppomine]

My Ranking of Buster Bros!!! Songs

As I’ve put with my previous posts about song rankings, this is all done in good fun. What I think slaps may be what you think sucks and vice versa. So take it with a fistful of salt. I will not include the battles as that will be on its own list. I will include BB City, Nausa du Zuiqu and Ez Do Rap for fun.

I honestly feel bad for the Buster Bros because discography wise, I actually like most of the songs. Like if they came on, I probably wouldn’t switch it off. But at the same time, they do not have many that really slap for me. Like songs I’m obsessed with. Which kinda makes me feel bad because since I usually listen over the songs while I write this, I think...yeah these songs are good. 

14) New Star - Probably the only of songs that I’d lean more towards not liking. It really made think of a middle schooler, which I guess is the point since this was Saburo’s introductory song. But you know when you find like old recording of you performing in school and you’re just like ‘oh no.’ But yeah got that feeling. Also I was like ‘man, what a little shit’ from his lyrics. Which, again, makes sense. Does not mean I had to love it. 

13) School of IKB - Maybe because it just felt like a departure from Jiro’s usual sound that threw me off. It isn’t bad by any means but I guess I wasn’t expecting it. It really is a song that says a lot about Jiro’s growth and I’m super proud of him. I will admit that the chorus confused me and I while writing this figured out that he meant ‘I wanna be a cypher that continues after sunset.’ Because the other lyrics that kept coming in between the other ‘I wanna be a...’

12) Ez Do Rap - It is catchy but probably still one more forgettable, especially since I have to go look it up if I want to listen to it. 

11) Run This City - Fallen so far but it did a good job of keeping with the series and making me think that I could get into hypmic. So thank you for your service? Honestly, weirdly I think Buster Bros is one of the crews that actually had their anime versions sound really good for the music? 

10) BB City - I don’t know how all these extra songs end up having this energy of like just feel good and fun? I thought the subject was funny more than anything. Especially since they go so into their pettiness, they forgot the real goal here. It reminds me of another song but I cannot think of what it is. 

9) Ikebukuro West Game Park - This one actually hits pretty hard. Especially the break down near the end. I just had stronger feelings for the ones above it. I don’t mind the callbacks but I think i have to be in a mood with it though. Still thinking about the beatboxing though. 

8) Re:start!!! - I feel so bad that this is where it is but it’s primarily because of just liking fast over slow. But it is such an important song. Like for all that it is. Like this is a song where Jiro is actually the one supporting the entire song when normally it is Ichiro doing so. Like it is proof of him trying to be his own man and yet he is still a loving brother. And ah, I’m just crying over how they remain so strong together (and all these crews need to stop bullying them just because their (sibling) relationships are in shambles). 

7) Ore Ga Ichiro - Honestly think this one and number six could be switched around dependent on what kind of ‘I’m coming to kick your ass’ I felt like being that day. I actually remember it’s small feature in the anime. And it had given me hope for the music of the whole thing (it was half right). And honestly it really does tell you about everything about Ichiro with one song. And I honestly feel a little...proud? Like this sounds more like him than his TDD self. 

6) This Means War - Eyo my name is Jiro! But no, seriously, this song sounds like the kind of thing I’d listen if I was prepping to go fight someone. And Jiro’s words are so intense and take no prisoners about it. Plus instrumental??? Also intense, I love it. 

5) Requiem - Okay so this song was set up for success considering I thought Dies Irae was a banger of classical song to begin with. Add Saburo’s rap to it? Absolute banger. Sounds like a villain origin story to me. Too bad he’s like ‘but Ichi-nii would not like that.’

4) Break the Wall - Look man, they knew what they were doing when they based it off those dance songs. I personally get reminded of Earth, Wind and Fire. But yeah, it’s a good song and such a hopeful song. I am often in the back at work dancing to this song because it just has that vibe. 

3) Nausa du Zuiqu - The one song I can never spell right. But pretty high up for an insert song, huh? But yeah, I got nothing. This one, like Wrap & Rap, just gives me so a boost of seretonin. Because my first thought is ‘is this fucking Ievan polkka? Ichiro, you weeb!’ And he dragged Samatoki down with him. Then it was hilarious to find out they’re fucking go at it in a sauna while doing trivia about saunas. Like Samatoki said, ‘why do you know so much about saunas?!’ 

2) Ohayo Ikebukuro - I’m aware a lot of this is them talking but it’s also so bursting with their personalities and their dynamics. It’s ultra charming to me. Also I thought the breakdown when they’re doing haiku raps (don’t at me, that’s what they are) sounded too great considering they were just doing honestly silly haikus except Jiro. Also I was laughing because I found Ohayo Ikebukuro while writing an outline for an Ichiro/Reader and was like ‘wait, what’ when I found this talked about the kind of girl they liked. And Ichiro’s type...was kinda what I wrote for it. Guess his type is obvious, huh?

1) 3 Second Killer - I know, crazy that we get a Rhyme Anima song top the list. I had actually half forgotten this song. Like I know I thought it was fucking great even with the TV version but I didn’t listen to it because the TV version was so short. So when I found out that the Straight Outta Rhyme Anima extended all the songs, I was like ‘wait what?’ Came to this one, awesome. But it absolutely fits my love of let’s fuck shit up and being a badass vibe. Also my god, this must’ve been such a pain to record because if you look, almost every line is a different brother rapping for like the chorus. It also alternates between which and how many doing the line. And it sounds awesome! Also you hear that guitar in the fucking back? It is going ham. 

[stuffandwonder]

So I’ve been wanting to write something in this fandom for a while but theres so many good writers and fics its seemed kinda pointless, but then I had this little idea after watching IT 2 and its so random no one else was going to write it…

So here. Please be gentle. A bit angsty but also smaltzy? (Also you don’t have to have seen the movie/read the book for this to make sense I promise.)

The things we fear

They hung out after the movie, staying for drinks and milling with the other guests. Rhett was unusually quiet, but Link was mostly distracted by Britton’s enthusiastic analysis and having to make small talk with other guests, and thankfully didn’t seem to notice. When it came time to leave they separated from Britton, leaving him to go off with friends whilst they waited for an uber. As the others dispersed to their various lifts and cabs, leaving them alone, Link tisked “Where the hells this uber got to man?”

There was a pause before Rhett responded. “I didn’t order one.”              “What?!” Link exclaimed. “…the crap man, you said -” He was cut off by a somber toned Rhett; “We need to talk. Walk with me?” before Link could respond he had set off, walking in long strides down the dark sidewalk.

Link turned and hurried to catch up with the taller man. “Well?” the annoyance in his tone was evident, but he was tired and confused and in no mood to play one of Rhett’s stupid guessing games. Rhett sighed but said nothing, slowing as he dragged a hand through his hair, searching for words. Finally they came to a stop. “Link…” Rhett shifted uncomfortably before blurting “Do you think I’m like Ritchie?”

“What?” This is what Rhett had dragged him away to ask? If he was like a character in a movie? He looked at Rhett in the weak amber streetlight, hunched over with hands in pockets, teeth worrying his bottom lip absently. His annoyance slunk away, abashed. Rhett was uncomfortable and clearly serious. He sighed. “You mean an emotionally stunted jerk who deflects from his emotions with jokes? …I dunno man. A little, yeah.” even in the poor light he can see Rhett physically wince at the accusation. “You’re funnier though,” he grins, trying to soften what was maybe too blunt a response. “Hmm” Rhett smiles, but his eyes don’t crinkle at the corners like they should.

Quietly, “ ‘I don’t want to be like Ritchie. I don’t want to go my whole life not saying…making jokes, avoiding saying the one thing I’m too afraid to say until it’s too late.” Somethig in Rhett’s voice makes Link’s stomach go tight. He swallows, finding no words in his troat.

Rhett puts a hand on Link’s arm, squeezing his bicep like he’s afraid Link will turn and walk off if he doesn’t keep him in place. “I love you,”

It’s so quiet it feels more like distant music carried on the breeze, but he knows it was Rhett. He smiles softly, fondly, trying to sooth away the tight knott at the pit of his stomach. “I know man. You tell me all the time. You’re not like Ritchie.” He pauses, huffs self consiously “Maybe I am. We both know you’re way more likely to say it than I am.”                                                                                        Rhett’s face is inscruitable.

“That’s not what I meant Link. I’m IN love with you. I always have been.”        Link freezes, the air is suddenly too thick in his chest, too heavy on his limbs and he can’t react even he could process how.

In the dark, barely able to discern Link’s features to read them, the silence from Link is the loudest thing Rhett’s ever heard, and he fights the pang of panicked nausa at the back of his throat. “I had to say it. I’m sorry. I was so scared I’d ruin everything….and now I probably have anyway… I just…didn’t want to be scared anymore. Link, I…” hes obviously nearly in tears, and the sharp ache that drives into Link’s chest, is enough to shake his own fear from his shoulders. He reaches out, hand cradling around the side of Rhett’s neck, squeezing gently. “I love you,” his insides quiver, but the words are steady.

Rhett sighs and smiles, and its the saddest he’s ever looked, “as a friend. Like a brother. Right?” his voice cracks on the question and Link feels his own throat burn hot with tears and regret. “No,” he whispers, “Just. Like that. I love ya. It never should of mattered how. Just that I did. I do.” he smiles in a way he knows is as sad as Rhett’s “Guess you weren’t the only one who was scared.”

Rhett closes his eyes, huffs a laugh even as tears wet his cheeks. He thinks about how much time was wasted being so afraid of wrecking what they were, they never gave themselves a chance at what they could be.

“Dear God, we’re idots”

“Losers?” Link quips.

Rhett looks at him softly, “Nah man, as long as I had you, I was always always a winner. That was the thing…I had so much to lose.”

Link’s chest aches in a whole new way, he wonders what he did to deserve to win so big. And now they’re here, finally known in the dark, leaning in to to kiss Rhett is the easiest thing in the world, so natural its not even a thought.       Rhett closes his eyes as he leans into the kiss, lips softly parting to welcome Link home, and its both new and old, like a memory you don’t remember forgetting.

Slowly they part, reluctant yet shy. “This just got hella complicated. I’m sorry about that.” Link nods slowly. “Don’t be. I’m scared. But I ain’t sorry,”

“Good.” Rhett says softly, and then, “Its okay if we’ve scared together ain’t it? 'Cuz loves stronger than fear.”

[vanilla107]

Adora’s First Birthday Party

“It’s my birthday but why do I feel so empty?” she murmured.

“Adora? What are you doing here? Is everything alright?” a gentle voice asked from behind her and she turned around to see Queen Angella in the corridor, looking concerned from the door.

“Your majesty! I…I’m just a little…um…”

She took a deep breath.

“I…I guess I feel sad.”

***************

It's Adora's birthday and Glimmer and Bow went all out to make it as memorable as possible. But what they don't know is that she's hurting inside but thankfully, Angella manages to remedy that.

Read on A03

She Ra Masterlist

HAPPY BIRTHDAY ADORA! THIS ONE'S FOR YOU!

This is my first drabble and I'm so freaking proud because all of my other She Ra fanfictions are freaking multichapter BUT I FINALLY MANAGED TO WRITE A ONE SHOT YES. Adora literally deserves the world and I hope that in the fictional world of Etheria that she's having a wonderful birthday.

Stay healthy! vanilla107 xoxo

******************

Adora had never been so overwhelmed in her whole life.

Cake, presents, all of her new friends and all of it had been planned by Bow and Glimmer? Birthdays were a foreign thing to her and she wasn’t sure if she was on a sugar high but she felt elated.

She had been woken up by pancakes in bed, followed by Bow and Glimmer presents. Bow had given her a friendship bracelet so that they all matched and Glimmer had given her shiny new boots.

“Adora! Come on, we’re gonna sing for you now!” Glimmer said with a laugh and lightly tugged on the blonde’s wrist. She was led to the middle of the throne room, that was elaborately decorated in streamers, balloons and a massive banner reading ‘Happy Birthday Adora!’ There was a table filled with pastries, sweets and in the center of it, the most beautiful cake she had ever seen.

“I wasn’t sure what your favourite flavour was,” began Bow as he placed the candles across the cake and turned to face her beaming.

“So there’s three layers, vanilla, chocolate and red velvet with buttercream icing. The mini figurines of all of us are made out of chocolate and I added some strawberries! What do you think?”

Adora’s eyes teared up.

“Oh Bow…it’s amazing.”

She gave him a long hug while Glimmer lit the candles and they all began to sing happy birthday. Adora went red as she wasn’t sure of she was supposed to sing along but instead just listened to them and looked at her cake. Once they were finished Glimmer gently nudged Adora.

“Blow out your candles and make a wish!”

“A wish?”

“It’s a tradition. If you blow out your candles you make a wish and it might just come true!”

Adora looked at the candles flickering and closed her eyes and wished. She opened them again and everyone clapped.

“Cake time!” Bow said and produced a large knife and handed it to the birthday girl.

“Birthday princess gets first cut.”

Adora took the knife and carefully cut the first layer and she took it out and placed it on a plate. To her surprise it was the chocolate layer. She took a bite of it and her taste buds exploded.

“Bow…this is…I can’t-“ He smiled and squeezed her shoulder.

“Your reaction is all I needed.” Adora finished her piece and watched all her friends enjoy themselves. Glimmer had put on some music and a few princesses had started dancing.

Adora suddenly felt the excitement build up inside her and her stomach was threatening to betray her.Her insides clenched and she looked for the nearest exit frantically.

She needed fresh air.

 Now.

She quietly slipped out, promising to come back later. She walked along the corridor and stepped out to a balcony, inhaling the fresh air and allowing the dizziness and nausa to stop. She drank in the sunset and sighed heavily.

“It’s my birthday but why do I feel so empty?” she murmured.

“Adora? What are you doing here? Is everything alright?” a gentle voice asked from behind her and she turned around to see Queen Angella in the corridor, looking concerned from the door.

“Your majesty! I…I’m just a little…um…”

She took a deep breath.

“I…I guess I feel sad.”

Angella took a few more steps so that she was on the balcony as well.

“Well, we can’t have the birthday girl feeling sad. What seems to be the problem?”

“Besides the complete sense of being overwhelmed?”

Angella gave her a small smile and joined her on the balcony.

"I know that Bow and Glimmer are excited to show you all the new festivities of Brightmoon but I can ask them to tone it down a little."

"No! I mean no, it's not that...I…I feel guilty. I’m celebrating with everyone and this is great and I’m grateful I just…”

Adora looked away and stared at the woods that separated the Horde from Brightmoon.

“You miss Catra.”

Adora look down and hot tears of frustration dripped down her cheeks.

“I keep thinking how much she’d...love all of this, y’know? Birthdays don’t exist in the Fright Zone and I know she’s with the Horde but I miss her! I know I look weak and I’m sorry-“

“Adora,” Angella said, and she stopped talking. “It’s okay to be sad. It’s okay to frustrated and angry.”

“I...I wish...wish I had tried harder,” Adora stuttered.

Angella placed a hand on the girls' shoulder and wiped away her tears.

“There’s only so much you can do, Adora. You can’t force Catra to join the rebellion. It’s her choice. You…you can’t change people. You can only change yourself.”

“I wished for her to be here,” Adora sniffed.

“What do you mean?”

“That was my birthday wish. When I blew out my candles…I wished that she could be here. Kinda stupid, right? It was a naïve thing to do-”

Adora stopped as she lowered her head as more tears flowed. Angella looked at her sadly and slowly pulled her in for a hug. Adora was tense for a minute before hugging the Queen back, her body sagging in emotional exhaustion.

“I am sorry Adora. I...sort of understand how you're feeling. There…there are days when I want Micah to be here so badly but…I know that he’s gone. Catra is still out there and even though there are days when it seems to be impossible, keep fighting for her. I...I hope that she will eventually see the wrong doings of the Horde.”

Adora closed her eyes and enjoyed the solid feeling of Angella hugging her. Affection was a foreign thing in the Horde and showing emotions meant showing weakness.

It felt…nice being able to show all these things.

“Now, I think that’s enough tears for today. I’m sure Glimmer and Bow will be looking for you but I’ll make up an excuse. Don’t worry Adora. You…you have family here too.” Adora nodded and let go of Angella.

“Thank you your Majesty…I needed that.”

Angella smiled before producing a small box from her pocket and handing it to the blonde.

“Happy birthday Adora.”

The birthday girl opened the box and her breath caught in her throat. Inside the box was a gold plated badge with the colours of Brightmoon: light pink, lilac and a dark purple. In the middle of the badge was two gold angel wings.

“A...a badge?”

“It’s the seal of Brightmoon. Only the highest ranked Brightmoon guards wear them to show their loyalty to Etheria and only I am allowed to chose who wears them.”

Adora felt her mouth go dry.

“Your...your majesty this is too much. I’m already She ra! I…”

“Adora, you’ve proved your loyalty to the rebellion. You saved my daughter and were willing to risk everything you knew for Brightmoon. If that doesn’t show loyalty, I don’t know what does.”

Adora was quiet. The badge reminded her when she used to be Force Captain and wear the badge. She closed the box and handed it back to Angella.

“I’m sorry it just...it reminds me of the Horde. Force Captains all got badges and I was one of them. I think I still need to adjust to everything.”

Angella nodded and closed the box.

“I understand. But this badge is yours so whenever you feel like claiming it, just come see me.”

“Thank you,” Adora said in relief.

The last thing she wanted to do was look like she was insulting Brightmon by not accepting the badge.

“Your welcome. Now just relax and join us when you’re ready.”

Adora nodded before the queen walking back into the castle. She turned to face the setting sun once more and watched the golden yellows and pinks merge with the navy blues and purples.

“I really do wish you were here Catra. I…I hope maybe someday we can spend my birthday together.”

Adora inhaled and exhaled, feeling better.

She took one last look at the Whispering Woods and turned around and walked back to the throne room.

************************

Somewhere in the Fright Zone, Catra felt her heart hurt and she quickly placed her hand on her chest.

“Ow…” she mumbled and Scorpia looked up from their battle plans.

“You okay, Catra?”

“Yeah…I’m okay. I just need some air.”

Catra made her way up to the highest point in the Horde, where she and Adora used to hang out after training.

When they were much younger, Adora made a joke that if she was sad, Catra would feel her sadness because their hearts would hurt. Adora claimed that only the best of friends could feel it. Catra hadn't believed her but smiled at the statement.

 That was impossible. You couldn’t feel someone else’s sadness though their heart hurting…right?

There was only a sliver of gold in the sky left before the dark navy sky ate it up and the sky was lit with stars.

“I remember watching the stars with you…” the feline whispered and she felt her eyes get watery.

Catra allowed herself to cry. She was thankful to be alone.

She couldn’t risk anyone seeing her, Force Captain Catra, crying over a traitor, let alone showing weakness.

But it did make her feel better and she swallowed uneasily as she collected her emotions together.

“I...I miss you too Adora,” she whispered, looking up at the sky, tempted to wish Adora to be with her again.

Instead, she built up her walls again and went back to the Horde, her feelings of sadness left to the night sky and the stars.

[felicitywilds]

The Old Man of the Sea [YC]

So glad to be a part of this community! I can’t wait to read what we all come up with. Here’s something I wrote for a class a little while ago that I would love to develop into a longer story - feedback is welcome!

Sea waves licked the side of the ship, hungrily grasping at the weathered planks and trying to push her to its will. But the Fim Velozes had a fearsome captain, a dedicated crew, and a hull that could slice through the water like smooth cream. She was sailing quickly away from dark shores of Morocco, freshly stocked with rations and clean bedsheets for her 300-odd men. She was certainly one of the most impressive Portuguese Galleons the seas had ever seen, and her captain liked to boast that the Fim Velozes was hand crafted over the course of three years as a gift from his nephew. Her fierce reputation, however, led many to believe she'd been stolen.

The Fim Velozes boasted a sturdy deck of polished teak 54m long, three towering masts that scraped the clouds, and fantastic iridescent sails that no one knew the true composition of. She moved quickly for her size, an impressive eight knots.

Ma'at wished the boat would move faster.

Morocco had been reduced to a shadowy line on the horizon, staining her vision with the memories she was leaving behind. She was glad to be on a boat again, and the rhythmic swaying calmed her nerves. It reminded her of the way her father's fishing boat would rock her to sleep when she was younger. She closed her eyes and imagined they were sailing down the Nile instead of out into the open ocean. The salt in the air was wafting all the way from the Mediterranean, the hot wind from the deserts to the west, and--

"Hey, watch out there! Outta my way!"

A boy with skin like sand threw himself up against the railing next to her and then his half-digested lunch over the side of the boat. She held back a laugh as he wiped the mess from his mouth. Pale men like him were always too proud for their own good and never liked to admit when their inexperience got the best of them.

When they stood next to each other waiting to be recruited in Morocco, he'd straightened his pressed collar, adjusted his straw hat, and introduced himself as Clive Nauza.

"As in the great Nausa River in Norway, where my family once owned a successful salmon fishing company," he'd told her. "Now I'm looking for a bit of adventure after finishing up University, so I thought I'd hop on the nearest ship and return to my family's natural habitat." It was clear to her then that he enjoyed boasting about his expansive knowledge and large intellect, but it all meant virtually nothing when the ship began to move and his true finesse aboard sea vessels emerged. He'd undone his collar in an attempt to keep it clean but was now using it as a face cloth. His hat was nowhere to be seen.

As Ma'at stood comfortably at the railing, Clive was thrashing about with each rock of the boat, threatening to fall overboard with each heave of his stomach, and holding on for dear life with each white-knuckled hand.

"Some rough seas today," he managed to mutter between mouthfuls. Ma'at scoffed at him. Even when he was spewing the contents of his gut he still managed to find space in his mouth for words. And such ignorant words they were!

"You talk too much."

He'd gotten in line next to her during recruitment, and no matter how much she'd tried to escape his company since then, he'd found his way back to her side, talking her ear off as if she'd never left. They were very close in age and probably the youngest aboard the ship besides the dozen or so children who were hired to clean because they were too young to do anything else.

Clive's response went over the side of the boat, along with the remainder of his lunch, but he came up and continued like nothing happened.

"...talking helps people become more involved with the world around them, and thus become more educated. Though I suppose that's why you haven't said much since we met, eh Matthew?"

Matthew.

She instinctively straightened her back and drew up her shoulders. Gazing longingly out into the sea had distracted her and she'd let her guard down. Women were bad luck on boats. Something about upsetting an Old Man living at the bottom of the ocean that she didn't completely understand, but she didn't have to understand or agree to know that no one would let her on board if she was a her. The gilded dresses of her childhood were replaced with baggy tops to hide her breasts, and her long dark locks were now nothing more than a ghost of a tickle at the back of her neck.

Clive took notice of her change in demeanor. "Oh, don't take it so personally, mate. You'll learn soon enough." He gave her a weak clap on the back then disappeared over the side of the boat again.

Ma'at considered giving him a little nudge to help finish his journey over the railing. She'd met many men like Clive since she left home - pasty, pompous, and patronizing. She found that of all the sailors and captains she'd met, it was the palest ones who treated her with the most disdain and malice. They gave her fewer rations and more work for cheaper pay. They spoke down to her, like she was a stupid animal, or invisible, and they'd beaten her on more than one occasion. She preferred not to think of those days.

She'd given herself the name of a white man she'd met on the coast of Italy three years ago, one of the only men to treat her with respect, and he'd died of the measles just two weeks after offering her shelter. His wife kicked her out the next day. She'd hoped the name would bring her luck, that others would treat her the way Matthew treated her, but a name cannot change the color of your skin.

A life for a life, she thought, what's one more stupid white man drowned at sea?

But she stopped herself. With more than 300 other crew members on board, there was no way she wouldn't be noticed. And when you're on a tiny ship in the middle of thousands of miles of salty water pretending to be something you're not, being noticed is not something to strive for.

So she let him talk.

Ma'at was glad to be on the water again, but luck was not with her on this voyage. Not a full week had gone by after they left port that maggots were found writhing in the meat stock. The cook blamed it on the butcher who'd sold it to them and cut rations. A two days later, one of the crew mentioned the stars showed they were behind schedule already, and that the journey would take almost a full month longer than expected. The captain never confirmed nor denied this, but Ma'at could tell some of the more experienced crew knew it to be true. They blamed it on unfavorable winds. The next day, the winds became even more unfavorable as dark clouds loomed on the horizon.

The crew began to mutter about jinxes, curses, and taboos. The Old Man was getting angry, and it was probably a woman's fault. They whispered about certain crew members who paid too much attention to their appearance, who seemed to be more sensitive than the others, or whose voice was pitched just a little too high.

Ma'at kept her head low and shoulders high in an attempt to draw suspicion away from herself, but that didn't stop the captain's gaze from making her skin crawl when he eyed her as she worked.  

Despite the logical doubt, Ma'at began to believe that the stories really were true. Was her presence on this boat jeopardizing the voyage? She'd never had so much of an effect on other merchant ships, but then she also had reason to believe that the Fim Velozes wasn't the merchant ship it claimed to be.  She laid in her dingy hammock below decks at night, surrounded by hundreds of men who were getting closer to finding her out and considered if some of other nautical legends she'd read about were also true.

The sounds of the ship drowned out her worries and weighed on her eyelids. An empty mead bottle rolled back and forth along the floor beneath her, its deep sonorous vibrations against the wooden panels tempting her to relax. The sleeping crew around her snored and breathed in unison, as if the ship itself was inhaling and exhaling calm, drowsy sighs. She tried her best to keep her guard up and sleep lightly, so she could wake instantly should there be a reason to, but the slap of the sea against the side of the boat soon turned to the rhythmic drumming of a dream.

She woke with a start to the drowsy beginnings of the workday. Only a dozen or so men were already awake, as the morning bell had not yet rung. The image of a pure white feather was still burning in Ma'at's mind, along with the fear it instilled in her. She shakily got out of bed and began to get dressed, hoping no one would be able to see how agitated she was.

Of course, Clive noticed right away during their daily morning swab. "You feeling alright? It's all these rumors about a woman isn't it?" He propped his mop up against the mast and put his hands on his hips. "It's a damn shame it is. You'd think a woman would know better than to put the lives of all the men on a ship like this in danger. But maybe I'm giving the bint too much credit."

Ma'at continued to swab, feeling anger rise up in her chest, but she stayed silent.

Clive leaned against the mast next to his mop. "I'll tell you, though, as soon as I find her, I'm dumping her overboard." She looked up at him in shock to find a disturbingly proud smirk on his face. The gleam in his eye was one of power and retribution; he'd have absolutely no regrets getting rid of the culprit.

He leaned closer to her and she instinctively recoiled. "If you ask me, it's this captain of ours-" Her body relaxed and she dropped her eyes to her swabbing again – close call. "-No one wants to say it, but we all know there's something up with him. I wouldn't be surprised if--"

"Ahem."

Clive's skin drained of what color it had as the captain interrupted. He scrambled to get back to work, but knocked over his mop and stepped into his soapy bucket in his haste. He resorted to a loose salute instead.

"I trust this part of my ship is in good hands this morning?" he asked, and Ma'at realized she'd never heard him speak before. His words held a much different tone than she would have guessed, sweet and flowing like honey.

"Y-yes, sir!" Clive rushed to pick up his mop again, trying not to make eye contact with the captain.

"Good. May I have a word?" he asked, holding eye contact with Ma’at. Part of her was worried he'd found her out, but another was relieved, and she couldn't say why. She just handed Clive her mop and followed the captain without another thought.

The captain quietly ushered her into his quarters at the bow of the ship, and Ma'at felt like she'd been transported to another world. She would have never been able to tell that the back wall was lined in tall windows if not for a tiny sliver of light that was able to squeeze through - every wall was covered in ornate frames that she could've sworn were larger than the artworks that were on display within them. Maps and nautical charts were plastered upon every surface, stuck to the window frames with spare cutlery and some even haphazardly dangling from the priceless masterpieces.

A painting of an exquisitely beautiful young woman smirked at Ma'at from beneath some of the captain's laundry that had been draped over the frame to dry. It's gaze was as intriguing as the captain's, and a shiver slithered up her spine as she lowered herself into the plush velvet seat he'd offered her.

The captain waded through a heap of what looked to be old potato sacks and shuffled around to his desk. "Do you know why I call my ship the Fim Velozes?" he asked, kicking his feet up with little regard to the documents beneath them. Ma'at shook her head.

"It means Quick End," he explained, "which many might think is unusual for a ship like mine."

He paused, looking for a response. She nodded. Most ships were just called “The Sue Ann”, or “Ocean Heart” or something like that.

The captain ginned and took off his hat. "I know your secret, Matthew."

The air in the room suddenly dropped ten degrees as the captain fiercely held her gaze. In the middle of a witch hunt, she'd willingly entered a private room alone with the most powerful person on the ship. Could she be any more stupid? She cursed herself for not having the foresight to snatch one of the many gilded daggers littered about the room before she'd made herself comfortable.

"So it's only fair that I tell you my secret as well." The captain stood up and removed a pin from his hair, dropping gorgeous ringlets around his shoulders. And when he shed his coat, Ma'at realized he wasn't a he at all.

"This isn't your everyday merchant ship, my dear," the captain said, her voice ringing out high and clear now. "The Fim Velozes is a pirate ship."

Ma'at sat in a stunned silence at the captain's words. So many questions clouded her mind that it forgot how to vocalize them.

"But not a pirate ship in the traditional sense," she continued, "I like to raid vessels that belong to rich empires, who hoard too many taxes from their citizens. Or vessels whose only purpose is to destroy villages in another land and claim them as their own. My victims reach a quick end because I am not like them and I am merciful enough to let them have it. I'm a pirate because the ones I prey on are powerful enough to call me one."

The captain strolled about her cabin as she talked, and Ma'at realized that the potato sacks she'd seen before were full of precious gems and gold coins. As if the clutter on the walls didn't already make the room appear smaller, there would probably be almost twice as much floor space if not for the piles of money in every corner.

"I use the cover of a merchant ship to deliver wealth to those who really need it. The men believe to me to be greedy with my tokens of conquest, but I smuggle a bag or two every time we dock." The captain settled herself on the edge of her desk and cocked her head at Ma'at. "You have no words to share with me?"

She opened her mouth to speak, but couldn't decide what to ask first. The captain's laugh rang out and made the coins around them jingle. "Well, will you at least tell me your real name? Where you're coming from? It's not often I meet someone who shares my intimate secret."

"I - I'm Ma'at." she finally managed to choke out.

The captain gave a satisfied hum. "Goddess of justice. How appropriate.” She moved to gather up her coat and began to quickly pin her hair back up. “Ma’at, I want you to know that I will tolerate no nonsense on this ship. Should any of the men give you any sort of trouble, let me know.” Her eyes gleamed with strength and an infectious hunger.

She shrugged back into her coat and replaced her hat before opening the door. "Now get back to work," she said with a wink, and she ushered her out.

Ma'at expected Clive to be bombarding her with questions when she returned to her swabbing, but he just gave her an uneasy glance and a tight smile. He hadn't made much headway across the ship working alone, and he was mumbling under his breath something about hoping she'd been assigned more swabbing so that he didn't have to do it anymore.

She paid him no mind and let herself get lost in the task, moving the mop back and forth across the deck automatically as she considered what the captain’s words meant for her. For one thing, she could make sure no one like Clive bothered her ever again. Instead of hopping on another boat as soon as they made port, she could stay on the Fim Velozes as long as she wanted. She could stay long enough to become the captain’s first mate - a pirate’s first mate. She smiled at the thought of a Captain Clive being overrun by her sailors, his ship burning bright in the night and his body lost somewhere at sea. The captain was right in choosing to share her secret - she felt the start of a fire in her belly that could carry her around the globe bringing justice down upon the people who'd wronged her.

Clive interrupted her thoughts with a shout. "Look, Matthew! Over here!" He was pointing to something over the side of the boat, and she suddenly realized that it had gotten very dark. The sun should have risen already, but its warm rays were blocked by a thick layer of menacing clouds. She looked around at the crew members dashing about the boat, tightening ropes and redirecting the sails as the sea spat at them in defiance. Men waved their hands and shouted orders, but their words were lost in the wind that goaded the waves to rise higher over the railings.

"Look!" Clive shouted again. Ma'at rushed to the side of the boat, worried that she'd failed to notice someone fall overboard from the gusts that rocked them.

"Down there," he pointed.  She tipped herself over the railing to follow his hand, but saw nothing but the dark water below them. Suddenly she felt his cold arm press against her back and grip her shirt, pinning her to the rails. “If the captain won’t punish you, then I will, bint,” he spat into her ear. With one good shove, her feet broke contact with the deck and she was tumbling helplessly to her doom.

Before she hit the water, she prayed that the Old Man of the Sea would will the waves not to toss her too much, but to welcome her into their embrace. She remembered a tale she read about how the women found on ships were thrown overboard and the Old Man transformed them into beautifully hideous creatures with scaly tails instead of legs. She remembered how it was said that these fish-women would often tempt sailors to join them in the water and lure them to their deaths as revenge.

Ma’at hoped the stories were true.

[kaisune]

Top Surgery, Part 2 - Surgery & Post-Op

*Here’s another text block! Whoo! I swear I didn’t mean to make these entries so long... I apparently have a lot more feels about this time then I originally assumed. For anyone wanting just the review, I’ll post a TL;DR after the next section that’ll be free from all the fluff.

The day before surgery, I packed up the car and left for Charlotte, NC with my best friend. It was few hours drive from Atlanta and left plenty of time to think about all the decisions I had made up until this point. It was so surreal to think that I would be out of surgery in just 24 hours. We talked and laughed and listened to music the whole way there. I tried my best to distract myself from the nerves that were slowly creeping up and overtaking me. We to the surgeon's office in now time and were greeted by the main office person. Once again, every single person I interacted with was ridiculously nice. It blew my mind after dealing with so many rude people during previous consultations. The main office person gave us a tour of their facility and showed me where the actual surgery would take place. Noting that I was nervous, she suggested we stop by a nearby brewery for dinner and spend the night chilling out. I thanked her for the suggestion and headed to the nearest pharmacy to fill my remaining prescriptions. I barely slept that night. I was so scared of what was to come the next morning. I had never had surgery and had no idea what to expect. Fortunately, I was able to force myself to sleep for a few hours before waking having to be up at 5am the next morning. 

I woke up suddenly and was completely awake as soon as I opened my eyes. I felt the kind of anticipation and excitement that a kid might feel on Christmas morning. Nervously, I jumped out of bed and showered thoroughly. I knew I would be unable to shower for some time after today so I wanted to make sure I was as clean as possible! Dressed as lazily as possibly, we headed downtown to the surgery facility. 

We arrived a few minutes late but were quickly pulled into an examination room to begin the pre-surgery process. This is when they collected a bit more medical history, take pre-op photos, and had me sign all the needed paperwork. This took around 30 minutes. After all of this took place, the surgeon came in and marked me up. She did an excellent job of explaining the purpose of various marks and asking if I was okay with specifics of the procedure. We also discussed ideal scar placement and realistic scar placement. She was very open to my want for diagonal scars. She stated that she was not completely sure she could achieve this look but that she would try.  Once the surgeon left, I was then told to undress completely and take my remaining medications. This included something like a valium and some anti-nausea medication (I was given extra anti-nausae meds because of my acid reflux). After a few minutes, I literally cared about nothing and was more than happy to walk into the operating room and completely disrobe when asked to do so. It was so bizarre balancing the apathy the anti-anxiety meds gave me while simultaneously understanding the excitement that went along with that moment. This would be the last conscious moment I had with my dysphoria causing chest. I hoped up on the cold operating table and welcomed the warm blankets they covered me in. The finally things I remember where the assistants taking my glasses from me and assuring me that I would be nice and warm throughout the procedure (they could probably see that I was shivering). Someone then placed a mask on my face and told me that I would feel a pinch and slight burning sensation in my arm for a moment. That moment last a very long time for me and included another surge of whatever made my arm burn so badly. I distinctly remember thinking how funny it was when everyone acted in disbelief when they noticed the original dose had not knocked me out. I chuckled to myself as the world when dark. 

When I returned to my senses, I felt as though I was walking through a fog. Every so often I voice would weakly come through, attempting to rouse me from my confused state. The voice called my name and told me it was time to wake up. It assured me everything was okay and asked me to drink. A sweet taste filled my mouth causing me to shake my head. The voice asked if I didn't like ginger ale and my mouth of filled with the cool sensation of water. Again, the voice said it was time to wake up. It was time to go. I shook my head. It couldn't be time to go. I was too tired. I wasn't ready. The voice politely said that I was fine and my friend was waiting to take me home. I muttered my objections as I was helped into what I could vaguely make out was a wheelchair. The world moved around me so fast, I had trouble keeping track of where I was. Chair then sidewalk then car then hotel then bed. I fell asleep as soon as I was propped up and under the covers. 

The funny thing about surgery is how little control you have over anything. This was my first time experiencing this and it was hilarious to hear about. Apparently, I continuously said that I didn't want to go with my friend as I was put in the car. The staff were very concerned that my friend was not going to take care of me because of my objections (Whoops!). When we got to the hotel room, I push a car from one side of my bed to the other side (much to my friends rightful concern). I think I was preemptively trying to make sure I had a place to sit when I woke up. After sleeping for five or so hours, I woke up, ate half of a pizza, and fell back asleep. I was very dependent on my friend the following days. As much as I love them, this sucked. I hate being a burden for others. 

We spent the next couple days ordering out, sleeping, and walking (very slowly) around the hotel. The air conditioning was broke in the main portion of the hotel so I distinctly remember feeling so hot and having no idea why during our walks. My surgeon instructed me to change my bandages once a day or so until my post-op appointment. I know many other surgeons do not require this and specifically ask that you keep the binding secure until post-op but Dr. Sherie used open, penrose drains that drained directly into packing underneath my binder. So, this packing needed to be changed once every day or so. This sucked. It felt like my chest was falling out every time I took the binder off. It was uncomfortable and awkward. But I did get to see my new chest the day after surgery. From the moment I saw it, I felt at home. I've seen that others felt strange with their new chest or even disappointed but I felt nothing like that. Honestly, I did't even feel over joyed. I just felt right. Like, yup, this is exactly how it's supposed to be. It was weird. My chest ached a bit from time to time but it was not unmanageable in any way. I took as little medication as possible and slept often to keep any pain at bay. The time in NC passed quickly. We left for Georgia two days after surgery and I slept the entire way there.