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mr-laveau · 11 months ago

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hiya, dog here! this is for lav's listener design lab!!

Crow Folkestone, aka Freelancer/Voyeur/Deviant/Silly!

Crow grew up moving around a lot and with not great parents. When his powers started manifesting, his family treated him even more like the dirt on the bottom of their shoes. After Caelum appeared to him for the first time, he ran away from his family and went no contact with them

He's very much got a grunge/skater kinda vibe to him. A lot of thrifted and oversized stuff. Baggy jeans, big shirts and sweatpants, chunky sneakers, yk the vibes

He's transmasc (he/they/it), he presents pretty masc but he doesn't bind and has a pretty large chest, so he kind of appears androgynous because of it

Crow is white (irish/scottish)

About 25-26 ish?

Crow is chubby, with large thighs, a thick tummy, large chest, and the kind of arms that dads who don't work out but are still very strong have

Gemini

Crow's closest relationships are the D.A.M.N. crew. my version of redacted has them as a polycule! crow and gavin are primary partners though. they love their boys so much. and also caelum, but like. he's their son

Crow has a numerous amount of hobbies, from photography (loves bringing a digicam everywhere he goes, esp with the D.A.M.N. crew, and recording memories), to writing poetry, to singing and playing guitar/bass, and more! They love video games, and reading books, and watching videos, and writing, and hanging out with the crew!

Not technically a deity, but a hero from myth: Crow would be Patroclus. Their dedication to their friends and lovers is so strong they would die for any of them. They don't want to be the hero, and are uncomfortable with the attention it can bring, but they're thrusted into the role anyways and have grown because of it

Redacted Audio's D.A.M.N. Storyline!

Crow is incredibly dedicated and very understanding. Past relationships have made them very much a pleaser and go-with-the-flow about things (/neutral, some partners were good, most were not, but both experiences shaped him). They understand limits and don't expect anything in return, even if they secretly want someone to dote on them. Crow wants to be the muse and not just the artist sometimes. In the past they were more the one doing things for their partner/s, so having Gavin do things for them like they would do still catches them off guard now and then. For their friends, Crow likes to treat them almost like other partners; that same dedication is given to them as well. Crow likes making sure everyone is happy and is heard

Crow values being truthful to oneself greatly, as well as having love for humanity

just existing by daysormay !

Crow is the truest "listenersona" i have, so their design is actually based on what i look like irl! just with a few differences (eye color and some minor body details mainly)

Crow stands at 5'8 1/2, with shaggy/curly dark brown hair in a shag mullet with fluffy bangs. A small braid hangs from behind their ear, given to them by Caelum. They have brown eyes and freckles across their face and body. They have piercings on their face and ears (septum & paired nostrils, center labret, stretched ears [2g], four more piercings in each ear), and tattoos across their body. Recently he got on testosterone. He's pretty hairy. Almost like a cub?

Crow is absolutely a puppyboy. It's also a polyglot! He calls Gavin "playboy", as well as "lover boy". Absolute stoner. It's assigned the D.A.M.N. crew as Muppets. He is just chef's kiss.

This listener lab design is one of the coolest things ever! Is it weird to say thank you? I love when creators give back to their community like this, and this is such a good way of doing that!

ty again!

LaVeau-gue - design #002 - Freelancer - Crow - Redactedgender

Heyo! You're welcome for making your design, I don't think it's weird really, it goes a long way to remind people that artists and creators are in fact human and do not exist for the benefit and entertainment of fandoms or people (you wouldn't believe the sense of entitlement on some folks really) but enough about that, here's the design for crow!

Design Notes!

There's a little something I like to keep in mind sometimes and something that I have to remind myself about from time to time which is:

"Sometimes people don't want your extra touch, they just want you to draw something for them."

That is something I had to keep in mind for this design so instead of going on a tangent in regards to how my own, I'll just let ya know how I interepreted your notes:

In particular, I chose to just take your visual notes literally, making sure to incorporate the different piercings where I could make them visible. Other stuff like its haircut, freckles, eyes and hair type were just thongs I took at face value.

Now when it came to a few other elements, things got tricky:

You specified that Crow had tattoos but never specified what those tattoos were so I decided to improvise by incorporating barbs, the anarchist symbol, a broken heart, a "live" tatoo and a star om their arms since they seemed to make sense for his backstory.

In terms of fashion, I leaned into the skater/grunge aesthetic to create something easy, breezy that could fit the vibe but also felt androgynous whilst leaning into masc territory.

A few special tidbits I incorporated was the braid-by which I mean that I used a pink hair tie on it to colour match with Caelum and gave Crow a hot pink collar that I like to think he got from Gavin.

Crow genuinely feels like a character who doesn't see themself as the main character but perceivs himself as an extra in everybody else's life, its fashion does come from a more bold subculture but they also seem very much to be the type to be the lone skater dude. In conjunction with this, your pick of Patroclus was interesting as it general supports my theory that Crow likely doesn't see themself as their own person but as a part to other people's stories. As such, I felt it best to give crow an appearance that would match that, something that would at least look different to your average Joe but wouldn't seem to out of place in a city like Dahlia I'm California.

And that's your LaVeau-gue design! Hope you enjoy it! (Oh yeah I also changed the name to LaVeau-gue since I liked it more)

Wanna have your listener designed by me? Check out my rules for LaVeau-gue and send an ask my way!

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quirklessidiot · 4 years ago

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Title: filthy rich [3/3] Pairing: millionaire!sakusa kiyoomi x y/n [filthy capitalist au] Genre: mystery, major angst ahead, thriller, mafia!au-ish

Synopsis: Just run, Y/N. Don’t look back.

Warnings: dark and yandere themes, toxic relationships, mentions of violence, shady business, class differences, mentions of rape, smoll breeding kink, unwanted pregnancy, mentions of abortion, and sakusa being a manipulative bastard

Notes:

Im disappering again for a week or two so as a parting gift, here ya go, im starting a bokuto fanfic soon and posting the reboot of notice me soon too hnnng thanks for the wait guys uwu

A sorta realistic take on a yandere is harder than it looks kssjdn omg anyways here yall go the long awaited last chapter of filthy rich. I’m not sure if I should put like a one shot sequel but so far im marking this series completed. Thanks for sticking by!

previous || series masterlist || blood son [sequel;one shot]

You run your hands through your hair and shut your eyes tight, the quietness and stillness of your shared apartment was something to bask on before you put on a fake mask of happiness. It had been exactly two months since you found out about the birth control switch and the medaide agenda.

In the span of those two months, you had grown more observant towards your boyfriend’s actions and you knew that it wouldn’t be anytime soon until he actually notices that you were onto him.

You let out a shaky breath as you recollected some weird things you’ve seem to have noticed, how his brows would furrow when he’d receive a call indicating that something was up and it was serious or how you visited your ex-boss one time a week or so ago along with Kenjiro since you wanted to see how he was doing.

“...Well, he just didn’t come home and sold the place. Apparently he was in a rush to move or something because of family matters so I didn’t exactly see him.” the neighbor gossiped to you two.

“Y/N?”

You jump on your spot as you hear that dreadfully familiar voice.

“Hey,” You greet, walking up to him, you decide to do your usual hug but stop when you notice a small red stain on his necktie, the tie is dark blue and although it wasn’t obvious from afar, it definitely was up close. Your brows are furrowed together, this time in pure curiosity, “Did you get hurt? It’s unlike you to get messy.”

You notice the quick shift of attitude in his eyes, you were seemingly getting good at observing his emotions these days and it looked like he panicked for a second there.

Odd.

“A friend of mine had gotten hurt a while ago, you remember Atsumu Miya?”

A vivid image of a blonde man crossed your mind, he was another conglomerate friend of your boyfriend, another person to be weary of to add to the list, “Oh, is he alright?” you asked, trying to keep it casual as you untie his tie for him as usual.

“Yes. He’s awfully clumsy. You don’t need to worry.”

“Oh…” You mumbled, “by the way, I visited my ex-chief.”

“Ex-chief?”

“Mhm.” you hummed, “You know, my boss from before? Me and a few co-workers decided to visit him since he was a really good boss. Turns out he just left without telling anyone, poor man.”

“Sounds unpleasant. Did you know why he quit?”

“No.” You shrugged as you take the tie out and place it on the side, “He suddenly just quit his job and moved, neighbors said it was also because of family matters. It’s kinda weird because as far as we knew, he didn’t have a family.”

“Would you like me to look into it?”

You almost stiffen when he slithers his arms on your waist but you didn’t want to give away any suspicion, “No. I don’t want to pry. Hopefully he’s enjoying his retirement.” You sighed, turning towards him with a tight smile, “Now what would you like for dinner? I was thinking Mediterranean? I need to lose some weight since I’ve been feeling bloated for a while.”

He leans in for a soft kiss on your temple, “Mediterranean would be fine. Would you like anything else? We could order more.” he hummed, his lips slowly started to dangerously hover on top of yours.

“No, it’s fine.” You give him a quick peck and wiggle your way out of his arms, your stomach doesn’t feel well these days. Whenever you were near Sakusa you had the urge to throw up your innards despite having an empty stomach.

You don’t notice the dangerous gaze on your behind as you pick up the phone for your take-out.

Sakusa hasn’t felt you in a long time and it’s driving him insane, he wants to feel your heat, your body, and everything in between. He wants to fill you up and see you pregnant with his children. He wants everyone in the world to know you were his and his only.

Yet he can’t do that.

You’ve ignored his affections these past few weeks and it had been driving him insane to the point where he had to ask one of his men to put an eye on you to see if you had been cheating on him or seeing someone else.

Yet you hadn’t.

Your routine was the same old one and Sakusa is digging his nails deeply into his skin in his office one day with his tie uncharacteristically untied. Miya Atsumu sits across him, taking a sip from his flask, “Ya look like shit.” the blonde points out.

“Fuck off, Miya.”

“Heard from your cousin that you’re not getting laid by your girl these days.”

“You better be thankful that you’ve got men behind you or I’d be shooting your fucking brains out for saying that.” Sakusa spats, his dark gaze pointedly looking at the blonde across him.

“You should just find someone else then and not yer prude of a-”

“Keep telling me ideas like that and maybe I might just shoot you and chop your body up until it looks fuckin’ unrecognizable.”

Atsumu raises his hands up, signaling that he was giving up, “Gee, omi-omi. I was just giving my advise. It’s so easy to drop her.”

“I don’t want to drop what’s mine.”

“You’ve got issues.” He chuckles, “Haven’t you been switching out her pills and fucking her raw for the last couple of months? I bet yer ass you got her pregnant on that before but ya just don’t know it. Getting her pregnant would definitely secure her spot in her life. Woman’s nuthin’ without ya.”

“She’s...she’s not showing…”

“When was the last time ya two went at it?”

“Two months ago.”

“Ya poor boy.” Atsumu sighs, shaking his head, “Ya sure you don’t want to take a break from being a loyal boyfriend for one night? i bet Y/N wouldn’t notice.”

“And no one would notice if you fucking disappeared. I’ll make sure of it, now get out.”

You may not have been the sharpest tool on the shed but you know that someone’s been tailing you these past few days, you’re not stupid. You could only come to the conclusion that it was Sakusa who was doing such things but you couldn’t get why.

Something just didn’t make sense. It felt like you were missing an important piece in the puzzle, med-aide and the switch of your pills and now a hidden tail?

You furrow your brows together in deep thought as you sat down next to a teenage boy on his phone, you decided to take the bus today to the grocery store, surprisingly the one tailing you wasn’t around today.

Your eyes slowly shift towards the boy’s phone, it seemed like he was playing a video game.

An otome game, to be exact.

You felt your lips twitch up, you remembered those games a lot growing up. The graphics seem to have massively improved now by the looks of it, “...That looks interesting.” You tell the teenage boy who turns to you in surprise.

“Oh, thanks.” the blonde replied quietly.

“Is that a new otome game?”

“Kind of.” He blinks, his gaze returning back to the screen, “It’s sort of a remake of the yandere simulator from back then.”

You feel your shoulders tense up.

“A yandere?”

“Yeah.” The blonde nods, “The girl’s awfully creepy in the game, she stalks him, does things to get him. The player has to catch her in the act and evade her at the same time.”

“Oh…” You blink, “I-uh, this is weird… but what’s a yandere again?’

“It’s someone obsessively in love with you. They’ll do anything to have you stay by them.” He says, pushing on a button but suddenly the screen turns red and you feel shivers run down your spine as you hear him curse and the words ‘you’re caught’ appear on the screen.

“W-what happened to your character?”

“He died. Nothing much.” he mumbles, “If the Yandere knows they can’t have you, they’ll kill you.”

You immediately went pale as soon as you heard that. Maybe, just maybe you were being paranoid. He wouldn’t go to that extent, would he?

“How did your character escape the yandere in the game?”

“Well, I haven’t finished the game yet but based on some anime’s and manga’s I've usually read. They either killed to get away or they moved so far away where they wouldn’t be seen so I think the creator might have the same ending.” The blonde said, he slowly looked to your side, “You’re looking awfully pale, ma’am. Are you alright?”

“Yeah, j-just remembered a horrible game I played back when I was your age.” You gulped in, “Nightmares, you know? The yandere tried to get my character pregnant and tried to get in her way of moving out of the country.”

“Sounds like a very realistic one.” He mumbles, “What did your character do?”

“I wasn’t able to finish it.” you whispered, loud enough for him to only hear, “I couldn’t really find a way out.”

“The developers of the game must’ve made it hard for you. Maybe your character should’ve ran away,” he advised, “Or better yet, you should’ve killed him.”

“I-well, I don't think there were options like that.”

“Well if I were you and there was no option for killing, I’d run. Far, far away. Change my identity and all that.” he exits the game and stuffs the phone back in his pocket, you get a good look of his cat-like eyes and immediately feel a shiver on your spine with the next words he say, “I mean its a game but you wouldn’t wanna loose and get your character killed, right?”

“R-right.”

The teenage boy hops down without even saying goodbye and you have a scary realization that you can’t break it off like you originally had planned. You needed to run, run far as you can and get lost.

The words that the teenage boy says echoes in your head for the next few days, from that point on, realization dawns upon you that, nothing is certain now. You couldn’t trust anyone, you couldn’t let friends and family be involved in this. Sakusa Kiyoomi is a powerful man so you needed to be careful with how you were going to disappear.

You continue to act nonchalant and the same as you try to lay out your plan but you knew that you had only a week or so to complete this for it to successfully work.

Sakusa Kiyoomi wonders what he should do to save the relationship, he’s tried everything in the book that he could think of but you remained the same. Was this the end of the relationship? For real?

He could never stomach the idea of having you leave him.

It’s eerie that day, something felt different when he came home to an empty apartment. It looked the same yet something felt very, very different. Apparently the apartment guards said you were here since your car hadn’t left the driveway and they hadn’t seen you go out.

He checks out your side of the closet, your clothes remain there untouched and your toiletries were there too. He scans the fridge for your notes but nothing is stuck there. He suddenly feels like something cold was dumped on him.

It couldn’t be, right?

Right?

He runs to every room, checking every nook and cranny and when he finally reaches the last room which was the bathroom, nothing is there.

Everything was in its place except you.

Where were you?

Your bank account remains untouched, your wallet and phone was left in the apartment. It was as if you were returning home, the very least. Komori tells him to calm down, saying that they’re letting the best people find you around the city, they don’t rule out that someone might’ve had the audacity to touch you.

Whoever took you would be given hell to pay, that’s for sure. Was it the triad? Kkangpae’s? Or opposing yakuza’s? Oh, they’ll definitely have their heads on the platter if they tried to harm a single hair on your head.

Sakusa doesn’t even hesitate to notify the police about you already despite the memorandum that twenty-four hours is needed to consider a person missing, it's nothing a little money can fix.

“I hope we find her soon.” Your aunt sighed, “I’ve notified her parents about it. It’s definitely weird that she’d leave all her valuables behind.”

Hinata and Natsu sit there next to their mom, completely sad and worried, “I’ve hired the best people for it already, obaasan. We’ll find Y/N.” Sakusa replies yet his thoughts are in a complete frenzy now.

And find you they did.

No stone was left unturned. He made sure of it. Yet after a month of relentless searching. Nothing came up, it seemed like you had just vanished and Sakusa Kiyoomi had turned the whole underground world upside down for you but nothing came up.

Some say that you disappeared and ran away but that was immediately ruled out, no security cameras saw you in and out during that day and it would be impossible for you to just leave without security cameras on you. The guard had exclaimed that despite the blackout that day, the generators only took a few minutes to power up so they’d definitely catch you on camera in case you ever exited the building (along with the guards since they knew exactly what you looked liked) plus the clothes and such were still there, left untouched.

Some said you died, it was definitely impossible for you to just vanish without a single trace after all since everyone was looking for you.

Yet no one dared to say it in front of the boss, not if they valued their life.

The billionaire had dried out his connections to find you. What good was it to be the most powerful and richest man in the country if he couldn’t find you? Life had no meaning now, you were gone. It felt like a part of him was ceasing to function.

Sakusa Kiyoomi was a dead man walking now.

Unknown to the whole world, you’re in a small town with little to no signal. Your hair is chopped unevenly and your skin is darker from the repeated exposure under the sun, your life is simple and mundane now yet you’re happy.

For the first time in months, you actually felt free.

You shut your eyes tight, the events that transpired this past few months replayed in your head. Your escape was definitely done as carefully as you can and you didn’t even know if you’d succeed since you weren’t a master in that sort of thing.

You recalled that it was a week before you ran away, a few days after you met that kid in the bus. Someone from the electric company had come to inform you that there was a scheduled black out in the city that day during the afternoon and you felt something bubble up in you. That was the day you’d put your plan into motion.

You knew that the longer you delayed your plan, the harder it would be to escape.

You had a few minutes to actually put your plan to work. The camera’s on the hallways would cease to function for a few minutes according to the guard downstairs as he did a protocol on the building (apparently the generators were quick). So that morning after Sakusa left, you placed only a few clothes and the stash of money you had been carefully hiding in a garbage bag and chopped your hair short in an uneven manner. Burning all the remaining hair on the fireplace and the black hair color that you use with it. The maid uniform that you stole on your floor and a fake name plate that you made was on and you were good to go.

The minute the black out started, you took the garbage bag and walked out. Taking the stairway used by the caretakers, you made sure to just look down and never directly up at the camera’s pretending to work.

When you finally made it out of your building. You let out a stiff sigh and put down the bag, it was only the beginning. If you thought the same way as Sakusa Kiyoomi, you could only imagine that you needed to be more careful from this point on.

You take the newly bought duffel bag that you strategically hid behind some boxes. Thankfully when you had placed it yesterday afternoon, it hadn’t been touched.

You put on a pair of shorts and a baggy shirt with cheap shades and stuffed the maid uniform in the duffel bag along with your belongings in the garbage bag. You take the other route that led to the busy streets. It was easy to look like a tourist and seemingly blend in the crowd, from that point on, you only had one destination in mind.

When you were younger, you vividly remember an acquaintance telling you about this small town outside of Tokyo where her grandparents were from. It was only an hour away via plane and when you went down another few hours via bus yet if you took the bus route all in all, it would take a few days.

Since it was far, only a few busses actually went there and since you had to leave within the day, you decided to just take the bus nearest to that town and take another bus when you arrived there.

The plan smooth-sailed from that point on.

Except for one minor detail.

You open your eyes and look down at your now small bump. The monster who almost had you trapped left a parting gift, you grip your garden hoe tightly.

A big part of you wanted to kill it.

Yet every time you try to, you hesitate.

The moment you arrived here, you had to pretend to be a weary and poor widow. You just didn’t expect to be a weary and poor expecting widow. You let out an uncharted sigh at the thought, it was hard enough to be alone here with little to no money.

This child had the demon’s blood in it.

Yes, you may have gone free from his cage but in truth with his seed growing in your stomach day by day, you started to feel quite the opposite.

taglist [thanks for your support ilyasm skkss im so sorry for updating late too :(]

@maraudusk ;; @iamnotobsessed ;; @ssuna ;; @weebartistinc ;; @aomineavenue ;; @tsukkismamagucci ;; @onlyshinji ;; @ichiraku-verse ;; @watevermelon ;; @victoriasee ;; @caramelcandescence ;; @n-nara ;; @bloody-bella ;; @ricefarmerkita ;; @paripedia ;; @srhlsx ;; @craftyfawns ;; @kepchups ;; @soggycardboardd ;; @vinnieluv ;; @dinablossom ;; @yourstruly-01 ;; @shinhiromi ;; @dinablossom ;; @kneecotinee ;; @vicassa ;; @ahoeforshouto ;; @benimarus-main-mop ;; @atsunakaashi ;; @myaaa-xoxoxox ;; @newfriendjen ;; @usedcoupon

@kn0xiousnight

[can’t tag you guys uwu just make sure ur tags are open :<]

#sakusa kiyoomi x reader #sakusa kiyoomi imagines #sakusa kiyoomi headcanons #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu headcanons #yandere!sakusa #idk its my take on yandere and toxic relationships #haikyuu scenarios #📝📝.Filthy rich series #hostclub.adulting

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childishfluff · 4 years ago

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Angel Milk and Bargaining Naps- [Little!Ranboo/CG!Tubbo CGLRE Oneshot]

Summary:

Ranboo flies all the way to Britain to meet one of his friends, Tubbo. The trip is tiring, but he jumps straight into a stream alongside his friend. He's tired and needs a nap, and a joke from the stream causes him to slip. Immediately following the stream, he falls into littlespace and just wants to play, despite his sleepiness. Luckily, Tubbo is understanding and prepared, with a sippy cup of angel milk and a cookie for the little. And lots of determination that goes towards getting the boy to rest, even if it's only for a bit. Some warm angel milk and a few convincing deals should do the trick. -- This is non-sexual, sfw age regression, dni if you're nsfw/abdl/ageplay/cgl/ect. If any of the creators included in this work say *anything* about being uncomfy with fan fiction/of agere content including them, I will take this down and/or modify it appropriately. If they have already said something that I'm unaware of, please let me know.

A/N: I'm gonna be honest, I didn't know if Ranboo lived with his mom or dad or whatever so I just assumed and made his parent figure (who literally doesn't have any lines she's just there) his mom. Anyways, this is just a soft fic that explores the friendship dynamic between Tubbo and Ranboo, because I really like it. This is about 3500-ish words, which is longer then some of my other oneshots, which is cool! I really hope that I wrote Ranboo well, I haven't seen much of anything for little!Ranboo yet and wanted to try it, y'know? I don't think there's any trigger warnings that I need to put, but lmk if there is something I missed. Enjoy the fic!

"Ranboo?"

"Tubbo!"

Tubbo ran up to the boy in the black and white mask, the other youtuber decked out in a simple outfit. The only thing signifying the presence of his online persona was the mask. Besides that little detail, just one thing so that Tubbo could spot him easily, he looked like any other person.

"You're taller then I thought you'd be," Tubbo muttered, looking him up and down as he came to stand in front of him. Ranboo stood in front of a car, his mother climbing out of the driver's side and going to the back.

"And you're shorter." Ranboo replied, flinching just a bit at the slam of the car door. He was going to be staying with Tubbo for a week, this was his first meet up. And face reveal. Even now, with his mask on, Tubbo had still seen more of his face then anyone else on the internet.

"Oh, how kind of you," Tubbo joked, rolling his eyes a bit and taking

"Shut up and hug me, you idiot," Ranboo said, opening his arms. "I flew in from America, I get hug." he repeated, almost sounding whiny.

Tubbo laughed, jumping into the embrace and melting into the hug. Ranboo gives good hugs, he decided mentally, not pulling away from the affection for a few long seconds. "It's so nice to finally meet you, This week is gonna be great." Tubbo said, pulling away and going to the back of the car, where Ranboo's mom was unloading luggage.

It was gonna be great, for sure.

Ranboo sat just off camera, his mask now off but sitting on his lap, as Tubbo rambled to the chat. "He's gonna be here for a whole week! Isn't that cool?"

Both boys had been pretty excited for the meet up, they had a lot planned. Tommy was supposed to come by for two days, the second one being a big event with Wilbur and Niki too, all later in the week. This was Ranboo's big trip to meet some of the people he made content with regularly, and he was pretty excited.

"Put on your mask and shit on and come here, Ranboob." Everyone in chat was asking to see Ranboo. This whole trip was kept secret from the internet and anyone not involved in it, it was a huge surprise to everyone.

"I'm not going to if you're gonna be mean," he said defiantly, crossing his arms and giving him a look. He did not appreciate the 'Ranboob' nickname, not at all.

"I'm not being mean!" Tubbo screeched, basically pouting at him. "Come onnnn." he whined.

The childish traits they were displaying were somewhat just played up for the camera, but they were both littles. They knew about one another, but they had managed to avoid talking about it so far, moving from bring Ranboo's stuff inside, straight into a stream.

"Okay, okay, hold on," Ranboo took a few moments to pull on his mask and sunglasses, before standing up. "Move my chair for me, I wanna make a dramatic entrance." he ordered.

"I'm not your maid," Tubbo declined.

"Dramatic entrance or I'm not moving."

"Fine."

Once Tubbo had moved his chair, Ranboo made his silly enterance, strutting over and taking his seat next to Tubbo. "Hello, chat. You can see me, that's different," he laughed a bit. "I don't usually use a facecam."

"Well, get used to it. We're gonna be doing lots of stuff with cameras this week."

They continued talking about some plans they had, videos to make, streams to do. They hopped on the Minecraft and Discord servers, jumping between voice chats and talking to everyone. Eventually, though, Ranboo started to get tired and whiny. He literally took a whole trip from America, the car ride from the airport, and then jumped right into a stream. He was sleepy, goddammit.

Maybe it was being sleepy, and also excited, but he seemed to be falling into littlespace unknowingly. Acting childish, even just for a joke, usually led to feeling childish.

"Tubboooo," He held out his words, interrupting whatever Tubbo was doing on the SMP. He leaned close to him as he spoke.

"Ranbooooo," his friend mimicked him in a teasing voice, not looking away from the screen as he made his avatar run around the minecraft server.

"End stream, nap." he requested, causing the other boy to laugh. "Please?" he added.

"You can nap, my bed's over there," Tubbo told him, pointing off camera. "But I'm not done."

Ranboo pouted under his mask. "You're mean, y'know." he claimed, earning a chuckle from Tubbo.

There was a lot of messages in the chat claiming that they were fighting like children, with all their whining and pouting. Neither of them took it in a mean way though, that's what they were going for. It was funny.

"Sure I am." Tubbo said, looking to him for a moment. He quickly paused to say, "We'll end the stream soon, promise. You can sleep after that." He spoke in a much softer voice then before, signifying that he wasn't joking or anything. He was catching on to Ranboo's little behaviors, past the bit.

Ranboo hummed, before looking back to the screen. Tubbo returned to whatever he was doing, and the chat was 'aww'-ing. Ranboo tried to focus on not completely slipping on stream, making sure that any childlike behaviors he exhibited could be passed off as a joke.

He didn't fidget with any sort of toy, or hold a stuffed animal, he just swung his feet under the table, which the viewers couldn't see. Tubbo noticed it, though.

Eventually, Tubbo said goodbye to chat, and ended the stream. Once he logged off of the minecraft server and turned off his computer, he turned his seat to look at Ranboo. He smiled softly, "Hi, buddy."

He re-greeted him, as if talking to a new person. He wasn't, but it was a way to show that he was welcoming Little Ranboo in a kind way. "Hello, Tubbo." he giggled at the nickname, smiling wide.

"How little are you right now?"

Ranboo thought for a moment, not replying at first. He was old enough to be talking, so far, not having many issues pronouncing things. He wasn't really that small, he regressed to this age by himself regularly. It was fun, and he could play, while still being just old enough to take care of himself.

"I'm five." he decided aloud, "For now."

"But that might change?" Tubbo asked in a questioning, curious tone. Unlike Ranboo, he was just pretending and acting childish on stream, now fading in to a very caregivery demeanor. His friend was obviously small, and he was there to help.

"I dunno."

"Hmm," Tubbo noted that that probably meant he would be slipping younger, even if Ranboo didn't want to admit that. Most of the time, if Ranboo had someone to watch him that he trusted, usually Tubbo or Tommy, he'd slip a lot younger. Because he didn't need to take care of himself, he didn't need to worry about staying big enough to care for himself.

"You said you were sleepy, right? You needed a nap."

"No, no, no," Ranboo denied, shaking his head. "Not sleepy anymore." he claimed, contradicting his previous request. He was sleepy, very much so, but now he wanted to play. Now that he didn't have any viewers to worry about, he just wanted to have fun.

"Oh, really?" Tubbo said, standing up from his seat and stretching.

"Mhm," Ranboo hummed, distracted with the task of stealing Tubbo's much more comfortable chair the moment he moved. He also got distracted with spinning around almost right away. Tubbo didn't stop him, a little amused with how easy it was to entertain him.

"You're not sleepy anymore, not at all?" Tubbo sounded disbelieving.

"Nope."

"Alright. Where'd you put your littlegear? Do you have a sippy cup?" Tubbo asked.

"Black bag," Ranboo replied, not even bother to stop the chair, spinning around and around. He giggled at the motion, stopping when he started to get dizzy. While he was distracted, Tubbo had managed to locate the little bag, pull out a sippy cup, and leave the room.

"Tubs?" he pouted, not liking being left alone. "Tubboooo," he whined, getting up from the seat. "Whoa!" he almost tripped and tumbled, realizing he was still dizzy, and therefore, more clumsy. Once he was standing more stably, he heard Tubbo.

"I'm in the kitchen, buddy!" he heard his friend's voice call out, immediately following it. He ran out of the room, making his way to the

He suddenly got shy when he passed his mom and Tubbo's at the table, talking to each other. He slowed down, walking straighter and trying to act 'big'. "They know, you're okay," Tubbo assured, giving him a soft look from his spot by the microwave.

Ranboo still didn't face the adults, going quiet as he went over to Tubbo, now walking instead of running clumsily. He knew that his mom was always supportive, but he still wasn't the most comfortable regressing around her, or adults in general. The only real exceptions to this was his youtube friends who were older then him, because he didn't exactly see them as 'adults'.

It wasn't like any of them were mature.

The two women seemed to notice his discomfort, simply continuing to talk to one another and not bothering him. If they didn't bring any attention to his childlike behavior, or pretend they didn't notice it, then maybe Ranboo wouldn't mind being childish around them. They didn't want to interrupt or make him feel invalid while he was having fun.

"What're you doin'? You left me." he pouted, suddenly realizing that he had yet to take off his mask and sunglasses when his jutted-out lip was met with fabric. He had spoke quietly, so only Tubbo could hear how little his voice was.

He pulled them off, stuffing them into his pocket and rubbing at his eyes. "I'm making you angel milk, I'm sure you'll like it." Tubbo replied, opening the microwave before it went off and pulling the sippy cup out. Ranboo immediately went to reach for it, curious about the new drink he hadn't tried, but Tubbo pushed his hands away.

He didn't usually drink milk, feeling like it was something for babies, not bigger boys like him. But he didn't reject the babying, Tubbo treating him like he was a little younger then he had claimed to be. He really didn't mind it.

"It's to hot for you, bud. Let's just wait a bit, yeah?"

"Oh." Ranboo seemed a little confused, and embarrassed. He should've known that it'd be to hot, it was just heated up. Simple forgetfulness like this made him feel so kiddish, and not in the good way. This was forgotten when Tubbo ruffled his hair, making him giggle a little louder then he would've liked.

"Do you wanna make a snack while we wait?" Tubbo tightened the lid of the cup onto it, before shaking the bottle and setting it on the counter for the time being.

"Please?" Ranboo confirmed, fiddling with the bottom of his shirt as he asked.

"Yeah, let's see what we have." Tubbo said, opening up cupboards and looking into the fridge, Ranboo simply following him around. Ranboo stopped him from closing a cupboard right before he did by pulling on his shirt, pointing to cookies that sat up in it. Tubbo chuckled, "I should've known you would've asked for cookies. You can have one, but only after eating something else, okay?"

Tubbo agreed to these rules, happy he was getting any at all. He watched Tubbo pull out a plastic plate for him, setting the promised cookie on the side of it. "We have fruit? Do you like grapes?"

Ranboo eagerly nodded, "The green ones?"

"Yep," Tubbo smiled, pulling them out. The next few minutes consisted of Tubbo washing the fruit, putting it on the plate, grabbing the milk, and leading them back to his bedroom.

"Can I sit in your chair, p'ease?" Ranboo asked politely as he shut the door behind them, Tubbo's hands to full to do so.

"Go ahead," Tubbo confirmed. "Good job on asking nicely," he added, earning a smile from the boy. Ranboo immediately ran over to the chair, sitting in it and spinning again.

"Be careful, sweetie. I heard you almost fall because you were dizzy," Tubbo reminded. Ranboo's face flushed as Tubbo continued, "I know you're a bit clumsy when you're small, I wouldn't want you to get hurt."

Ranboo didn't know Tubbo could hear that. He wasn't that clumsy, he thought. The stupid chair just made him dizzy.

Tubbo went over and sat in the chair Ranboo was originally in, not commenting on his blushing. "Have you ever tried Angel Milk before?" Tubbo questioned, changing the subject to avoid embarrassing him more, shaking the bottle again once setting the plate of snacks on the desk in front of the computer.

"Nuh-uh," Ranboo shook his head. "Is it yummy?"

"Mhm, it's warm milk with sugar and vanilla and cinnamon in it. It's really yummy," Tubbo confirmed. He tried feeling the outside of the cup, not being able to tell exactly how hot it was. He tipped it over once putting the tip against his finger, letting out just enough of the milk to know the temperature. "I think this has cooled off enough for you, buddy. Here."

Ranboo took the royal blue sippy cup in both hands. The cup part was clear, so you could see the liquid inside, and the lid was his favorite color. The cup was a little smaller then a normal cup, but it was shaped like one, so if there ever came a time where he had to hide that he was using a sippy cup, he could just take the lid off and probably get away with it.

He sipped it, liking the feeling of the warm, but not too hot liquid on his tongue. He drank a bit of it before saying anything. "Yummy," he decided, in just one word, speaking with a soft smile. He leaned back into the chair, continuing to drink it. He seemed calmer, softer, even.

"I'm glad you like it, little one. Maybe don't drink it all before you even start eating, though."

"Oh," Ranboo said, pulling the cup away from his mouth. "Mkay." he agreed, wiping at his lips with his hand.

"You eat while I get some more of your little stuff out, okay?"

"mhm." Ranboo only hummed, swinging his feet under him like he had done earlier. After a minute or so of eating and looking around the room mindlessly, he felt something get set on his head. He looked up, causing the item to fall. The stuffed toy fell into his lap as Tubbo came around the chair, sitting down, holding a few things. He set the stuff in his lap.

"Boo!" he giggled, holding the toy bear close to his chest. 'Boo the Bear' was his favorite stuffed animal, and it was the only on he brought with him, and he was glad he did. To some extent, he knew he'd slip during this trip at some point, that's why he brought all the little stuff. He just didn't expect it to be so quickly.

"I found him hiding in your bag," Tubbo joked, picking up something from his lap. Pajamas.

"No!" Ranboo immediately said, without Tubbo getting the chance to say anything. "Don' need a nap." he huffed.

"I think you do. Just for a bit, so you have more energy to play later!" Tubbo spoke in a mock-excited tone, trying to paint the idea of napping in a more positive light for the little.

Spoiler alert, it didn't work well.

"Noooo," Ranboo whined.

"Doesn't cuddling up with Boo in comfy pajamas sound nice, sweetie?" He tried again.

Ranboo thought for a moment, shrugging. He casted his eyes downward, taking another drink from his cup, suddenly realizing how sleepy the warm liquid made him. Of course, he didn't catch onto the fact that Tubbo did that on purpose, but he didn't really need to know that.

"I'll nap with you, if you want. I promise, I won't have any fun without you."

Ranboo looked up, "Just for a bit?" he asked, in his now babyish voice. Tubbo was doing a fairly good job of convincing him.

"I'll wake you up in an hour or two, promise." Tubbo confirmed.

Ranboo thought again, glancing at the cookie on his plate before coming up with another question. "Can I have more cookies when I wake up? And more milk?"

Tubbo was slightly amused by the fact that he was treating this like some soft of business deal, but he was gonna take what he could get. "Sure thing."

"Okay," Ranboo agreed, hesitancy seemingly gone. "You have to cuddle with me and Boo, though! An- and play with me when I wake up!"

"Deal." Tubbo chuckled, ruffling his hair. "Now, let's finish your food and then get ready for your nap."

Ranboo was able to finish his grapes and his cookie in just a few minutes, sipping the last of his milk before setting it on the desk with the plate. "All gone," he said, yawning a bit. He rubbed a his eyes, leaning back into the seat. He was a lot sleepier then he thought he was.

"Yep, good job. Now, what do we do next?" Tubbo asked.

Ranboo sat up a bit, tilting his head, "Comfy clothes?" he offered, earning and approving hum from Tubbo.

"Are you big enough to do this yourself?" Tubbo handed him a stack of clothes, Ranboo nodding as he took it. Yeah, he was a little younger then five, but he could pull himself a little older to get dressed.

He ran off to the bathroom, leaving Tubbo with the important job of watching Boo. While he was gone, Tubbo moved around the pillows and blankets on his bed so that he'd be more comfortable. Ranboo came back, standing at the door shyly, clad in pajama pants and a matching slight-oversized soft cotton shirt.

"Look at how cute you look! You're so adorable." Tubbo cheered immediately, once picking up on his nervousness.

He was complimenting the boy because he seemed to be nervous about wearing more 'little' clothes around him, because until now, he was wearing 'big kid' clothes and just feeling small. Now, he looked it too. The pattern on the clothes was a bunch of little gold crowns, on a black backdrop.

"T'ank you," Ranboo shut the door behind him again, coming over to the bed and climbing onto it. He took Boo from Tubbo when he offered him the toy, coming up by the pillows and trying to position himself. As he did that, Tubbo shut off the light, glad it was the middle of the day so he didn't have to worry about any 'scared of the dark' issues. "Tubs?"

"Hmm?" The mentally-older boy replied, grabbing one last thing from the bedside table and climbing into bed beside Ranboo, facing him. Ranboo was curled up, stuffed bear cuddled to his chest, content with Tubbo just being close to him. They weren't cuddling, but he was willing to settle with just knowing that he was right there.

"m' feelin' smaller," he admitted after a moment, shy about the confession, yawning again as he sunk into the comfort on the soft pillows.

"Yeah?" Tubbo asked, looking at him softly. "How small?"

"lots an' lots."

"That's so small!" Tubbo, again, was amused by his childish actions. "Do you need a pacifier, sweetie?"

Ranboo, if any bigger, would've protested against the idea of using a pacifier and being called a baby, but he just nodded a bit. His demeanor was softer, and shyier. And it was easy to tell that he had trouble talking now.

"Good thing I already pulled one out for you," Tubbo laughed, revealing the last item he grabbed. A white pacifier, simple and plain, stuffed into his bag just in case he needed it. Tubbo lifted it to Ranboo's lips, the little taking it in his mouth and suckling on it a bit before letting his eyes drift shut.

Later on, he'd be embarrassed about using a pacifier in front of Tubbo, but right now, he was to small and sleepy to even care. The rest of the day, along with the rest of the meet up, would be great. Ranboo would wake up big, and they'd record a video with Tommy and then they'd watch movies. It'd all be great.

But right now, neither of them were worried about the rest of the day, because Ranboo was small and sleepy. Before falling asleep, he mumbled his last words before his nap.

"Ni' ni', Tubs." Tubbo has to stop himself from cooing at his adorable sleepy mumbling. Tubbo was glad that this was something they could support each other with, that this was something Ranboo trusted him with. He was so lucky. He replied, in the simple soft tone that he'd been using all day,

"Night, buddy."

A/N: okay so they meet up for a week, and I also mentioned tommy, wilbur, and niki, so there's room for me to write another oneshot in this universe. So if that's something you want, then go ahead and request in the comments! I imagine that tubbo and tommy are also littles, while wilbur and niki are cgs.

You can also request in-the-smp fics or just another oneshot for anyone! I might not write it, but please, still request, because the worst that can happen is that I say no.

also someone recently tried to request a fic involving an abusive cg and I just wanna say, I will never write anything like that, so don't request it. The farthest I will go is a caregiver yelling a bit, *NOTHING MORE*.

anyways, please leave feedback in the replies/reblogs/my ask box, on what you thought about this oneshot. Your favorite scene, cutest moments, things that you'd like to see within this universe. Whatever you want, feedback helps! Thanks for reading!

#dsmp #dream smp #ranboo #tubbo #agere #cglre #dream smp agere #little!ranboo #ranboo agere #cg!tubbo #tommyinnit #wilbur soot #niki

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elsanna-shenanigans · 4 years ago

Text

February Contest Submission #5: Welcome

words: ca. 3,100 setting: mAU lemon: no cw: no warnings apply

“A snake made the world?”

Anna inhaled, then exhaled through her nose. Kristoff scratched idly at his stubble while they waited for their coffees to be made, standing around the uni café.

“It’s a mythos, Kris,” she said after a moment. “Just like Christian God, or Allah, or- I dunno. Whatever specific being any other major religion thought made the world.”

“But a snake.”

“Rainbow Serpent, actually. And it’s really interesting, if you bothered to listen.”

He opened his mouth to retort, but was cut off when their names were called and two coffees placed on the counter. Anna took the chance, moving forward and grabbing her own cup and a few extra sugar packets. By the time Kris had caught up to her, she’d already dumped two into her drink, gently stirring it with a paddle-pop stick.

“I did listen,” he said, clearly intent on continuing the conversation. “And doesn’t the story go that the land and shit already existed but the big snake made mountains and valleys and stuff?”

Taking a sip of her drink, more to waste time than anything, Anna had to concede that he wasn’t wrong, per-se. He was just missing all the nuances of the topic, though!

“Look, I just thought it was cool, is all,” she said once she’d finished the mouthful of, frankly, fairly mediocre coffee. Nice and sweet, though. “Like, out of the seven-hundred-ish tribes– uh. Mobs. Most of them have an origin story that’s so similar. Across the whole country! But the languages they use are completely different – did you know the name of the language is traditionally based on their word for ‘no’? I just… thought it was cool.”

“It is cool, Anna,” Kristoff said, shooting her a small smile. “And I know learning about all this stuff means a lot to you.”

Swallowing again, though more from the dryness that had suddenly appeared in her mouth, Anna nodded. “Well, Mum isn’t around to teach me this stuff anymore. But I don’t wanna miss out and regret it forever.” Suddenly, she perked up. “Hey, did I tell you? I’m going to a thing today!”

“A thing?”

Nodding – so emphatically that she spilled her coffee, the brown liquid sloshing over the side of the cup and landing with a splat on the floor – she grinned up at her friend. “Yeah! It’s this traditional Indigenous show-thing? I can’t really remember what it’s about, but it wasn’t too expensive and they’re doing everything – a Welcome to Country, and stories and bush tucker, and I think they said a corroboree at the end?”

“That sounds really cool, Anna,” Kris said, just as his watch beeped at him. “You’ll have to tell me all about it. Uh. After class.”

Sighing, but this time with a smile, Anna waved him off – spilling her drink again in the process. “See you later, dude,” she said. She probably had to start getting ready, anyway.

Throwing the remnants of her coffee in the bin, Anna made her way back home. A forty-minute bus ride home, only to take a quick shower (how fortunate the drought of her youth had trained her in the art of 3-minute washes…) before heading back out again. It was cooling off, but she knew the evening wouldn’t get cold by any stretch of the word. It smelled like it was going to rain, and she heard the kookaburras again as if to confirm the thought.

Kookaburra laughing means it’s gonna rain, she thought to herself.

It was another forty-minute ride on the bus, and Anna felt herself becoming giddier and giddier with excitement. It’s one thing to learn about this sort of stuff in class. Now, she gets to experience some of it.

Even the first few splatters of rain on the window of the bus can’t dampen her mood.

By the time she arrived, the small drizzle had turned into a full-fledged shower. It wasn’t a storm – it felt a little early in the season (or late in the year) for that – and it would probably pass soon. She was glad she wore closed-in shoes, though, because it turned the earth into a sticky, muddy substance that stuck to everything.

There was only one other girl her age, and though Anna didn’t want to seem too invested, she was also cognisant enough to recognise that she’d rather interact with her than with any of the other people. A glance at the assembled crowed, standing under a large tent as protection from the rain, only confirmed her suspicions: there was at least one tour group, mostly made up of retirees; a school group, probably from the city’s Boys Grammar school, judging by the pretentiousness (and the uniforms). And the girl.

Not that she needed to worry about it. It was very much a group thing in that they weren’t asked to find partners or actually even talk to each other – not at first. First it was a respectful silence – and for Anna, a respectful reverence – as an Elder stood before them to give an official Welcome to Country. He described the land, before White colonisers; the shape of it, the boundaries between Turrbal Country and Jagera Country; the Meeanjin people, who weren’t able to claim Native Title for the land that still was theirs. Even the private school boys were silent, weren’t even fidgeting. Anna had to blink a little harder than usual, and she didn’t stop until he’d finished his piece.

No one clapped, but then, they weren’t supposed to.

A sudden flash of anger overtook her, and she had to face the ground just so she wouldn’t ruin this moment for everyone else. Why had her mum kept this from her? Why did she have to go searching, find out herself? How could they have grown up, let her grow up, not knowing a thing about her heritage??

“Hey, you okay?”

Jerking her head up, Anna found herself having to blink once more to force the angered tears away. The girl she’d noticed earlier was standing in front of her; everyone else had moved on, walking over the red land and towards a building.

“Y-yeah,” she responded. “I’m just…”

“It’s a lot, isn’t it?” The girl looked over her shoulder at the crowd. “C'mon, I don’t think you want to miss this next part.” With a quick, but sincere, smile, the girl turned around and began the return to the group. Anna followed, a few steps behind.

“I don’t?”

The girl shook her head. “I’m Elsa, by the way.”

“Anna. Nice to meet you.”

Elsa just smiled at her, slowing down enough to let Anna fall into step beside her.

Elsa was right: she did not want to miss this.

Once they regrouped, everyone was led into a darkened room. There was a star projector in the centre, a surprisingly real-looking, but definitely fake, fire built around it. They’d lit incense, or something, and when the door behind Anna closed and she was asked to sit on the floor, she found it really easy to imagine being here, back in the long ago.

It wasn’t the Elder who spoke this time. Another man, several years younger, came to sit in front of everyone. He had no shirt on, but his chest was painted in various pigments of ochre and white, only just distinguishable in the dim light of the fake fire and stars (and, Anna realised when she turned around, the fire exit sign). Elsa was sat behind her; she lifted her eyebrows once, still smiling, and Anna hurriedly turned back to the speaker in front her her.

And boy, did he speak. He told the story of the Rainbow Serpent, who carved the mountains and the valleys, and who tickled the frogs until they laughed, and the water that had been kept in their fat bellies burst and filled the tracks that had been made. He spoke about the animals that followed the Rainbow Serpent, who obeyed her and were rewarded by becoming human; those who did not would be made stone again.

But he spoke of other stories, too, ones she hadn’t heard before. He spoke about the Three Brothers, who were found mixing with women of another skin-group – a serious offence – and found their lives forfeit, as there were strict rules around marriage and mingling. Another person came up after that, a young woman, who told the story of Mundiba and they Honey, which was a cautionary tale against greediness and selfishness, as he had been asked to collect honey but had kept it for himself. A spirit had grown suspicious, and upon witnessing Mundiba taking the honey, had sung to the trees to trap Mundiba, where he had perished.

The last tale that was told, just as the retirees were losing focus and the boys began squirming, was the tale of the two wise men and seven sisters. Another origin story, Anna thought, and enjoyed it all the same because it spoke of people who weren’t people. This story, the audience was told, was from Wong-Gu-Tha country.

In the beginning, it says, the Creator sent two spirit men, Woddee Gooth-tha-rra, to shape Yulbrada, the Earth. They came from the far end of the Milky Way, and were tasked with making the hills and valleys. They made the cliffs and the oceans, the plains and the mountains. And when their work was almost complete, the Creator sent seven sisters, who were stars of the Milky Way, to make the land beautiful with flowers and trees, springs and billabongs, and all the birds and animals and all the creepy things.

Anna had to stifle a little smile when the woman said that. Not that she had to – the woman was smiling, clearly enjoying telling the story, perhaps more than Anna was enjoying hearing about it.

The sisters were making the Honey Ants when they became thirsty, and asked the youngest to find some water for them all to drink. She dutifully took her dish and went off, in the direction her sisters had sent her, to find water.

The Woddee Gooth-tha-rra were in the bushes, spying on the women, and followed the youngest went she went for water. They did not hide, and she fell in love with the two spirit men, and they her. The six sisters left became worried because the youngest had been gone so long.

They had all been warned by the Creator that, should such a thing happen, they wouldn’t be able to return to the Milky Way. The youngest sister remained on Yulbrada with the two men, and became mortal. They became the parents of the earth, and made the laws and the people of the desert.

The woman fell silent as she finished her story, and Anna was left thinking. It was a creation myth so similar to Eden, but different. People came from the Heavens, but it wasn’t a punishment to remain on earth. They weren’t cast out for the knowledge they gained, but instead had to embrace it. It was love that made the people, not the wrath of any god.

It was a comforting thought.

After the stories, they were treated to a didgeridoo player, as well as a demonstration of spear-throwing, weaponry, and warfare stuff. They returned outside, the storm having passed and the remaining clouds providing just enough cover from the would-be blistering sun Anna was less invested, but the school boys definitely perked up. Actually, regardless of her open interest, she still found herself perking up. The storytelling, while interesting, had little action and more atmosphere. This had action.

She found herself sitting next to Elsa again, a question burning the tip of her tongue. When there was a short break while some of the boys asked questions about the weapons, there was a window to actually ask.

“How did you know I’d like that?"

Elsa hadn’t been paying attention, naturally, and looked a little surprised when she turned to Anna. A smile graced her face; she looked comfortable.

"Everyone does. Even the kids, even if they thought it was a little boring.”

“Well, you were definitely right,” Anna said, an easy smile lifting to her own face. “Have you been here before?”

Before Elsa could answer, their attention was called for the next activity. A small wave of disappointment urged through Anna – she wanted to talk! – before she chastised herself. She had come here to learn all this stuff, even in this vaguely touristy way. She did not come here to make friends.

But… perhaps that would just be a happy bonus as everyone was led to a fire-pit and she realised that the next activity was lunch. An activity in which everyone was able to – nay, encouraged to – talk to everyone else.

Anna wasn’t going to talk to the school kids, and she held little interest in talking to the retirees. She didn’t even have to seek out Elsa; the other woman had left a spot next to her open, and was already looking at Anna and smiling.

They didn’t speak until after the food had been distributed: damper and dukkah – and a plate of different dips and chutneys on the side; skewers of kangaroo, crocodile, and emu; as well as more typical roasted meat. Potatoes and gravy, and all flavours she’d never tried before.

“This looks amazing,” Anna said to herself, eyes as round as the plates in which the food had been served. There was a light laugh from next to her, and she turned to find Elsa smiling.

“It tastes even better," she said. "And I know because I have been here before. Only once or twice, but it was enough to get me to come back.”

Anna thought back to how much this had cost her – well worth it, but it wasn’t cheap either – and then to the woman next to her. “It’s been amazing so far,” she agreed.

“And it gets better and better. This is probably the best one I’ve been to.” She said it without taking her eyes from Anna, who felt her cheeks burning. Was this woman flirting with her?

And then Elsa bit her bottom lip, still smiling, and nodded towards the food. “Go on, try it. I bet it’ll be the best you’ve ever had.”

Okay, yep, definitely flirting. Probably as red as a beet, and a shade that couldn’t just be blamed on the sun, Anna ducked her head and focussed on the damper. It came apart easily in her hands, and she dipped it in some of the… chutney?

“So, is this your first time here? What made you want to try it out?”

Elsa asked the questions just as Anna lifted the bread to her mouth. She’d definitely taken too large a bite, and probably looked silly. A possum in the headlights, with bulging cheeks and wide eyes. With some difficulty, she swallowed.

“Y-yeah,” she said, reaching for her cordial. “My um. My mum passed away recently and when I was going through her stuff I found some pictures and documents about where I- where she came from. Wanted to… reconnect, I guess?”

Elsa nodded along as Anna spoke. “I’m sorry for your loss,” she said, and she actually sounded like she meant it. “How are you finding it?”

It was impossible to tell if Elsa were talking about the death, or the discovery, so Anna chose to focus on the latter. “Well, I was really excited at first. I wanted to learn the language and talk to the Elders – I’m already doing Indigenous Studies at uni, so the chance to learn about it all from a personal perspective was really nice.”

“But…?”

“But Mum was Nunukul, so there’s no more language. I know they have the Quandamooka centre over at Straddie – uh, Minjerribah – but I don’t know if that’s the same. Jandai is not my people, or my language.”

Elsa nodded, taking another bite of her food. She was already half-finished, while Anna had been so focused on talking she’d barely started.

“I know what you mean,” Elsa said when she swallowed. She spoke slower than Anna, more thoughtfully; it gave Anna a chance to catch up with her food, at least. “My father is Tjungundji, so all I really have for that is some stupid word lists by old white people, sealed away in Canberra and gatekept by those same old white people.”

A bitterness seeped into her voice; a tempered fury that Anna was]s only just learning exists in her, too. A righteous anger over how much had been taken, not just from her, but from her people, and all other peoples who had been here before.

But she needed to look for the positives. She didn’t know much about Elsa’s mob, but she had been researching her own. She was lucky enough that not everything was taken or destroyed.

“It’s amazing what we’ve been able to recoup,” she said softly, thoughtfully. “I don’t think my grandma, or even my mum, really, could have imagined that their culture could be separated. It’s why they didn’t pass it down. But it is; it’s here and alive. Even though no one speaks Nunukul anymore, and it wasn’t really written down, we have the songs and stories of those people, even in English. I know the snake is my totem, even though I’m terrified of snakes. And I just think it’s amazing how much we’ve been able to put back together even after it all shattered. Things like this, today, are amazing, honest attempts at reconciliation.”

Elsa snorted gently, a smile on her face. “’Reconciliation’, eh? That’s the buzzword of the century.” Anna laughed and nodded.

“I like to think it’ll keep getting better. Two years ago I’d have never even thought to do this – Indigenous history was just a boring subject in school. But next week I’m getting a snake tattoo, which is terrifying, and it’s been designed by an Indigenous artist and it’s something on me that they can’t take away.” She sighed. “We need to stop taking so much away.”

They fell into silence for a moment, finishing up the meals on their plate. It was a thoughtful silence, comfortable, before Elsa broke it.

“So, you’re terrified of snakes and tattoos. Why are you getting both? Why not choose another design?”

She asked the question so sincerely, honestly. That was all that was really needed, Anna realised. A genuine desire for understanding that, as wonderful as she believed Australian culture to be, she often found sorely lacking. The “she’ll be right” attitude that blinded people to problems. To truths and solutions.

“Because,” Anna said, smiling. Elsa looked right back at her, the expression mirrored on her face, and regardless of the flirting earlier, Anna thought that, at the very least, she had made a friend. “A snake made the world.”

#elsanna #submission #february 2021 contest #prompt: ancient worlds

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jhameia · 4 years ago

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5 Things Creator Meme

I got tagged by @newtypeshadow and I guess it is that time of year.

Rules: It’s time to love yourselves! Choose your 5(ish) favorite works you created in the past year (fics, art, edits, etc.) and link them below to reflect on the amazing things you brought into the world in 2020. Tag as many writers/artists/etc. as you want (fan or original) so we can spread the love and link each other to awesome works!

So this year I published a few different things:

"Scholar Miaka’s Brief Summary of Memories Imbued in Memory Object Exhibit 132.NW.1." RECOGNIZE FASCISM. Ed. Crystal Huff. World Weaver Press, October 2020. CW: gendered violence, transphobia, slavery, physical & reproductive violence

The editor solicited from me a piece for her anthology back at the 2018 WorldCon (San Jose) and I said I’d give it a shot. It took me a long time to figure out what to write, because I couldn’t figure out a throughline. I was also kind of depressed from being stuck in Malaysia so it was kind of hard to write.

I’m always interested in the small signs that things are getting worse, and moments that are part of a larger pattern that seem disjointed. But I am also interested in utopia, and what it would mean to live in a utopia. In 2016, I wrote a short story called “Eruption” which is a #killallmen fantasy which explores the trauma left behind from genocide, and what it means to bear the weight of responsibility in order to establish a new world order. Scholar Miaka lives in the same city-state, a few generations after the estabilshment of its utopia, where things have settled enough that the inhabitants are curious about the distant past.

Other things that went into this: clothes making (I learned to sew so I could make a skirt with pockets, and recently took up embroidery); the concept of imbuing memories into objects, which is an extension of the idea that specific things recall certain memories for its owner. In a magical society, where you weren’t allowed to write down your own histories, how might you pass on the memories? And memories are not always singular, coherent narratives--that’s how we interpret them.

And so here we have a skirt, part of an archaeological exhibit, imbued with memories of a traumatic past that make people of the future witness the awful things that happened to people in a certain time period.

"In The Glass Hall of Supreme Women." Fireside Fiction. Ed. Maurice Broaddus. December 2020. CW: body horror, misogyny, fungi

OK I cheated, I actually wrote this last year, but it only just got published so I’m putting it as a writing success for this year!!

I actually got this idea while working on a different setting, and in an intensely patriarchal country, men send their barren wives to become mushroom hosts. There’s no shortage of fungi that find hosts in animals, and I am also fascinated by this one that, uh, turns ants into zombies. The fungus is only concerned with propogating itself. I initially wrote a ballad about a woman who is sent to become a mushroom host, and as she contemplates her life, she becomes even more enraged, and on the day that her fungus matures, she sets her confinement prison on fire, so that its spores escape into the world outside, as her revenge on the evil society using her body.

Anyway I thought about it further and realised it wouldn’t work in the setting I was working on (high fantasy fake China; it’s a romance novel series) so I set it on a space station. It was also a meditation on how many white women voted for Trump, and why on Earth would you do that.

But also the whole thing about mushrooms growing on your body is kind of horrific, and I wrote the first draft in one sitting. The original ending is more overt, where the main character actively traps some reporters trying to expose the industry, and it’s not clear whether it’s because of the fungi or her personal beliefs but that doesn’t really matter. I re-wrote the ending because the tonal shift was too stark.

"Mid-Autumn Incense" as part of Circlet Press' last Halloween Microfiction series. CW: suicide

What can I say, there was a call for submissions for Halloween microfics, we just had double-seven holiday AND it was Hungry Ghost month. I went to Vietnam in December 2019 and one fo the places we visited made incense, so I got to see some of that process. And I thought, what if you could make magic incense. And make your ghost husband more corporeal.

Basically, what if you could fuck your very hot ghost husband.

"Trials by Whiteness: Definitions of Whiteness and Eurocentrism, and Their Relevance Post-RaceFail" at Strange Horizons

@blackwolfchng bugged me to write a column for SH and I have a whole list of ideas for essays on the theme of Trials By Whiteness, which is also the theme of The WisCon Chronicles anthology I edited back in 2017. I thought it would be nice to go back to basics with some definitions and some history of RaceFail.

ONGOING WRITING

I also wrote a 128k thing that was originally fanfic of How Raeliana Ended Up At The Duke’s Mansion because as cool and entertaining as the concept is (book reader finds herself in the last book she read, as a fridged side character! fake engagement with the hero shenanigans! living the fanfic rewrite life!!), I thought the protagonist was.... kinda dumb? A cipher? Not really using her powers and position well? Inconsistent? Lacking self-reflection on herself and the story she found herself in? SHE’S DEFINITELY NOT A FANFIC WRITER OR EVEN A FAN.

I like the isekai-into-media trend right now, and I like a lot of villainess stories, but that’s because I’m a fan of self-insert nonsense, and I was, ngl, really pissed that the protagonist was really a poor reader and had a poor grasp on narrative and motivations. The manhwa is ending and the metaphysics are kind of garbage--it promised a theme that you can escape destiny, but really it’s saying that destiny cannot be escaped, fuck your attempts, and also if you are destined to be the heroine everyone will love you no matter what body you’re in even though that’s not the role assigned to that body because who cares about thematic and worldbuilding coherence amirite!?! The antagonist is much more sympathetic than the protagonist and they done the real Raeliana dirty!!!!!

Anyway I started writing it in May, veered it off-course into original fic, came up with new metaphysics and finished it as a draft in September, and since then I’ve been working on a second draft as an actual novel. I’m at 98k words, and while I’ve managed to recycle a lot, I’m not yet at the section where I get to use the very purely original stuff just yet.

But it’s also my love letter to the parts of fandom and what I like best about being a fan of a piece of media, which is also what I like about some of these isekai stories. (Don’t read Raeliana for fan meta love, read Survive as the Hero’s Wife! Canaria is such a gr8 superfan! I also like I Am Troubled That My Fiance Is A Villain because the isekai’d protag is also a side character who’s changing things, but is very kind to everyone involved, even to the heroine-turning-villainess, AND the protag also thinks about the themes of the game and uses that reflection to sort out her thoughts on some characters.)

Tagging @maybethings @jupiter235 @haunted-hideaway @dorkery @madain-sari

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surveys-at-your-service · 4 years ago

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Survey #318

“what can you do, where can ya go, when your mama is a burnout, and your daddy is a pyro?”

Do you have your ears pierced more than once? Yeah. Do you use an electric toothbrush? Yes. When was the last time you changed in front of someone? Oh, I have no idea. That's something I avoid like the plague because I loathe my body. When was the last time you got high? Never. Do you get along with your parents? Yeah. How many bracelets do you have on your wrists right now? None. Have you ever used a Ouija board? No, I don't fuck with that stuff. Have you ever met anyone who claimed to be a witch? Yes. Do you go along with prank-callers, or just hang up? I don't answer numbers I don't recognize to begin with. Would you ever tattoo a lover’s name onto your body? Nooooo. Do you own any version of Guitar Hero? I have a lot of 'em. Do you use mouthwash every single day? No. Do you know anyone with asthma? Yeah, my mom. Have you ever walked through a forest at night on your own? Uh, no sir. When was the last time you were in a graveyard? It's been many, many years. Do you know what an ‘AMV’ is? Yep, used to make 'em. How many items are in your recycle bin? (On your computer!) Oh yikes, probably loads. I haven't emptied it in... I don't know how long. Would you rather be a bird or a fish? A bird. What’s one award show you have to watch every year? None. Who do you like more: the Batman or the Joker? Joker. Heath Ledger's is my favorite. Have you ever had a pet rock? No. How much do you weigh? Yeah, no. If you are outside, what are you most likely doing? Taking nature photographs. Have you ever lost your luggage at an airport? No. Have you ever been on a rollercoaster that actually scared you? I don’t do roller coasters to begin with. Have you ever gone in a sauna? Ugh, hell no. Has a stray dog ever tried to bite you? No. Have you ever had an eating disorder? No. Are you attracted to people outside of your race? Yes. Are you in love with anyone at the moment? No. Have you ever dated someone more than once? No. Best cough drop? Those creamy strawberry ones. If you have a pet, does it make a lot of noise? One's a snake, so she's silent as could be. My cat is generally quiet, but he has his times where he just walks around meowing, normally for attention. Are you a fan of eyeshadow? If I actually wear makeup, yeah, I like black eyeshadow. Can you tell the difference between Coke and Pepsi? Absolutely. I don't like Pepsi. Would you feel funny if you kissed somebody of the same sex? Done it before, didn't feel weird. Besides furniture, what’s the biggest thing in your bedroom? A Silent Hill poster. Which of your friends makes you laugh the hardest? Girt. Have you ever been in a Catholic confessional? Yeah, as a kid. What color was the hair of the last person you kissed? Brown. What was the title of the last song you listened to? So today I've really been digging dark synthwave/cyberpunk-ish music, and right now I have a playlist on that's currently playing "DNA War" by Absolute Valentine and Billy Mays. How far away is the closest Walmart? Not even five minutes. Can you do a backflip? No. Who is the lead singer of your favorite band? Well, Ozzy is the lead singer of Ozzy Osbourne, haha. When was the last time you went fishing? Not since Sara visited and we went catfishing with my dad one night. What brand of deodorant do you use? Secret. Have you ever liked someone and never told them? Yes. Do you regret it? Nah. Who was the last person to buy you a drink? My mom, lmaoooo. Who was the last person to buy you dinner? Also my mom, haha. How old is the oldest person you’ve dated? Juan's maybe like... 28 or something by now, idk. Have you ever run a stoplight? No. Have you ever dated someone & then dated their sibling? YIKES, no. That sounds miles beyond awkward. Are both your parents still living? Yeah, thankfully. What’s something that makes you feel more creative? Music, for sure. Do you collect Mason jars to use for crafts? No, but I do find those super cute. What gives you a quality of life? Not much nowadays, idk. What would give you a high quality of life? A sense of purpose, direction, and worth. Do you have any rugs on top of carpet in your home? We have a big one in our living room, yes. I don't get it. Do you have a mattress cover on your bed? Yeah. Do you hate taking naps during the day? No; naps are normal for me. Who has the best personality on YouTube? Maybe I'm biased, but I genuinely do think Mark for a multitude of reasons. He's just extremely likable imo and sincerely a fucking spectacular human being. Do you have any vinyl records? No, but I would love to collect classic rock and metal ones. Which serial killer(s) do you find most fascinating? I'm quite honestly not well-informed in serial killer stories. I think they're interesting, but not enough for me to learn about them. Have you ever visited any celebrity gravesites? No. How do you feel about archaeology? It's fuckin dope. Any animals whose behaviors you find particularly interesting? ALL OF THEM AHHHH!!!!! But I particularly love learning about social animals, like meerkats (mongoose in general, really), African wild dogs, wolves, etc. What are your thoughts on gun control? I don't support the idea of banning firearms altogether, but I am very much in favor of some reform. There needs to be a much, much more strict and complex system in order for you to legally own a gun, and I also support periodic "check ups" to ensure you still fit whatever criteria is laid out. "Bad people will still find guns;" yes, some most certaintly will, but you can't convince me that the numbers wouldn't decrease. It would take a serious villain to put so much effort into pursuing obtaining a firearm. Do you like animals better than most humans? Sure do. Have you ever had to block people online for harassing you? I've blocked people to prevent that. If you collect anything, what is your favorite piece of that collection? I cherish the plush meerkat Jason gave me most, probably; out of my Silent Hill stuff, the limited edition Revelation flyer I have in Japanese. Are you friends with anybody you didn’t like at first? Hi, meet my best friend lmao. Are there any musicians you didn’t like at first, but grew on you? Probably. Do you have any favorite books you’d like to have signed by the author? Not really. Well wait, Ozzy signing my copy of his autobiography would be pretty damn cool. Do you like any board games or card games? I'm not really a board game fan, but Magic: The Gathering is fun as far as card games go. What historical figure(s) are you most interested in? I'm not incredibly interested in any, but I do think Pharaoh Hatshepsut was a bad bitch. She was one of the extremely few female pharaohs, and if my memory serves me right, one of the most successful. Do you like Breaking Benjamin? I sure do. How many people of the opposite sex have you told you loved them? One. Have you ever had to change your phone number? Yes, because I was getting strange texts from numbers I didn't know. Have you ever played bingo at an actual bingo hall? No. What’s your favourite comic book/graphic novel? I don’t read any. What is something you take pride in? How far I've come as far as my mental illnesses go, particularly depression and PTSD. What’s the biggest magnet on your fridge? I'm not getting up to go look. Have you ever eaten a Big Mac? No; I hate lettuce on burgers, so. What brand is your vaccuum cleaner? Dunno. Do you believe in sex before marriage? Sure, but I don't believe it's a must for everyone. Plenty of people don't even want to get married. Be intimate once you're comfortable with the person, and be safe and smart about it. Are you for or against abortion? I'm pro-choice. Do you feel like you need to lose weight? It's fact that I need to. My body just doesn't want to, afuckingpparently. All I seem to be capable of is either maintain or gain nowadays. Is summer your favorite season? It's my least favorite, actually. Do you wear glasses? I'm basically blind without 'em. Can you say the alphabet in more than one language? Yeah, in German. What do you want out of life? To feel like I made a difference, even if it's a small one. Do you ever get carsick? No. Do you groom your eyebrows? Not really anymore, no. Have you ever liked someone who treated you badly? No. When was the last time you went in the car past midnight? Oh boy, probably not since I had my cyst in I think '16. I was in so much agony and we had no painkillers, so I had to wake up Mom to go to Walmart to grab some. They barely even helped at all. God, I couldn't imagine dealing with that again. Were your last two kisses with the same person? Yes. Do you have alcohol in your house? I don't think we do right now, no. Do you have any personal fashion rules that revolve around your own preferences/body type (e.g., you never/always wear a certain color, sleeve type, or length of dress)? Yeah; I don't wear anything that shows my legs unless I shaved, but I will never wear a dress that isn't at least past my knees. Do you remember any celebrity whose style you admired when you were a teen? What do you think of that style now? Avril Lavigne was/is an ICON. I still think she looks badass. So, is it gif with a hard G or soft G? I used to say the opposite, but I say "gif" now. Apparently that's how the creator of the term says it anyway. When you are invited to things like wedding showers or baby showers do you tend to go or skip? What about graduation parties? If Mom is able to take me, I'll try to go to the first two if they're my closer friends. Do you like spicy chips? Oh FUCK yes. What’s the last movie you watched at a friend’s house? Elf with Sara's fam. Can you remember your parents’ birthdays? Mom's, yes. Dad's, only the month. Do you read your friends' surveys? Yep, I love learning about them. Do you know anyone with a glass eye? Not to my knowledge, no. Do you ever use the n-word? Absolutely not. What piercing do you like most on the opposite sex? I tend to like lip piercings. Do you prefer beef, chicken or steak? Chicken. Ever spent the night in a tent? Yeah, multiple times as a kid, "camping" in the yard with Dad, haha. What do you call your grandparents? I called both sets just "Grammy" and "Grampa." Have you ever cried while reading a book? Oh, certainly. How many college degrees do you want? I got none, and I'm not going back to college. Do you know how to play pool? What about foosball? Yes. Have you ever attended a professional sporting event? Yeah, hockey with my dad a few times. Do you own any jerseys? No. Were you born with naturally straight teeth? No; that's why I had braces. If you were the opposite gender, what name would you like to be called? Maybe like... Victor. Idk. Do you prefer original or sour Skittles? I love both, but sour. Do you like bacon bits on your salad? Yeah. What is your favorite kind of soup? I'm not a soup person. Did you learn to type through a computer program for kids? Yeah. What do you take for pain? Advil/Ibuprofen. What is your favorite place that you’ve lived? My pre-teen and teenage years house: in the woods on a dead-end road and down a gravel path that everyone always missed when learning where our house was. The actual road itself had very, very little traffic, and there was a large expanse of cotton fields. I loved it and miss the house itself, but it's got a lot of bad memories rotting in it. Who are your favorite kids that you’ve babysat? My niece and nephew. <3 Who is your favorite cousin? I don't have a favorite. We barely interact at all. Does one side of your family live in another state? Literally none of my extended family (or half-siblings) live in NC. What states did your parents grow up in? New York and Ohio. Have you ever had an allergic reaction to an insect? No. Is there a good hospital where you live? God no. It is notoriously awful. When was the last time you were asked out? Did you accept or decline? Mid-2017. I aceepted. Does your job allow piercings or tattoos? N/A Do you want to get married? If so, what color will your dress be? Yeah. Probably white/ivory or black. Ever had a caricature done of yourself? How much was it, and were you satisfied with it? No. Do you like peanut butter and fluff sandwiches? No, I don't like the texture. If you got married and then got divorced, would you want to re-marry? Probably not. What’s your favorite amusement park? I haven't been to nearly enough to know. Do you play video games? If so, what kind? Yeah. My favorite are horror games, but I also love me some story-driven survival games like The Last of Us, and then there's "kids" games like Spyro, etc. I like a looot of different kinds. Would you buy used clothes? I don't think so. I know it's easy to wash clothes and stuff, I'd just still feel kinda... grossed out by it.

#survey #surveys #questions #lyrics: ''pyro'' by shinedown

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madzilla84 · 4 years ago

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update

Did anyone ask for one? No. Does anyone want it? Probably not … I guess there’s still some small part of me that misses having a Livejournal.

In general, things have been - better. I started going outside a bit more from late-ish July, but honestly I don’t know if I started feeling better because I started going out, or if I started going out because I was feeling better…? A mystery. But mood tracking app - surely a reliable source of mental health info lmao - seems to agree:

(woohoo, only ‘significant burden’! i think that’s about the best you could hope for in 2020. and this was a few weeks ago, and I feel better now than I did then, so.)

I’ve been off work for the last 3 weeks - nothing wrong, just 2 weeks of scheduled annual leave, which I needed very much (I think part of why I was feeling bad was because I hadn’t had a break since February), and last week I had a week of jury duty. The break was much needed and I can feel the difference.

I started exercising again in July, and ugggggggh ok fine I admit I do feel better because of it. I’m never gonna be a gym bunny, I’ll probably never *love* it but I can’t deny the benefits. I go 3 times a week which is enough for me. (Though I only went twice last week and this week - last week I was pretty wrecked after court each day and this week I am focussing on being lazy.) Going outside again was strange at first, like the previous 4 months hadn’t happened, but it didn’t take long to feel (mostly) normal again.

I’ve also had a couple of social things, which has been nice - one lunch out at an outdoor restaurant, and one bbq at a friend’s house. (She moved in recently at the end of my street; while I was sitting in her living room I could look out of the window at my own flat. Weird!) I’ve been thinking a lot about Dan’s tweet about who he realised he wants in his life after lockdown, and it’s just. Interesting.

I’m DELIGHTED it’s September and the start of the best months, the -embers and -obers; it’s still pretty warm and mostly sunny here but it’s really nice, the bite’s gone out of the warmth. Not long now until it Gs the FO entirely. \o/ I’m still playing Animal Crossing every day, (unlike some people, smh poor abandoned Pickle).

Jury duty last week was fascinating. I didn’t even know if I’d get picked - they call more than twice as many people as they need in case anyone can’t do it for whatever reason (if one of the lawyers is a family friend or something), but I did end up being chosen. (No. 12!!) We were the first post-covid jury, and the first socially distanced one.

I *can* talk about the case now it’s over, but I don’t think I will, because the subject matter could be pretty triggering, but it was often a tough week given the nature of it. Having said that, something about it was very satisfying. It was fascinating to see how the courts and lawyers worked, and the whole process, and it was good to work with the other jurors. (Days on end of talking to actual humans was actually pretty good, for the most part.) We were all just thrown together, and we had differences of opinion of course, but it was still a good experience to work with them. It felt good to be part of something like that, something that mattered, and to feel like a part of the community in such a real way. I can be quite good at putting aside emotion to look at the letter of the law, which in a case like this can be very challenging; some of the other jurors struggled with it a great deal. (This isn’t to blow my own trumpet or anything; many would argue it was *me* who had the problem, in much the same way they often say lawyers are heartless, which isn’t true most of the time)

The case ended up being dismissed as the jury couldn’t reach a consensus - we got slated on social media (which of course I didn’t look at during the case, I caught up after), but we all stuck to our convictions and I know it was right; there’s a lot the public didn’t know or understand. As tough a case as it was, I’m glad I got to do it, it was a privilege in many ways. (But, I wouldn’t mind if it was a long time until I had to do it again, you know? lol.)

We had our phones taken from 9-5 while we were working - it’s the law - and I thought it was gonna be the worst after being glued to it constantly, but it was actually quite nice lmao. Not that I didn’t end up glued to it again once the case was over.

Fandom-wise, I have - finally - ended up taking a step back from the phandom a little bit in the last month or two. I want to talk about that a bit because it’s a complicated topic, and I see a lot of concerning posts - mainly on Twitter - that if you don’t maintain a certain level of dedication, if you join another fandom or get into something else or aren’t sufficiently devoted and supportive you - aren’t a true fan? Or something? Lots of posts along the lines of, ‘all these people getting into kpop/tv show/whatever, smh, don’t think we won’t remember when dan’s project drops and you all come running back’. It’s just a bit - weird? Like, it’s *perfectly normal* if people get into other stuff while dnp are cooking whatever they’re cooking (or not cooking, or whatever)? Or just move on, but still enjoy D&P?

I’m not, like, dramatically leaving the fandom or anything. Hell, I haven’t *left* the fandom at all, I’m still here every day, it’s - more of a mental shift. Because prior to July/August-ish this year I really wasn’t in a good place with it. I wrote a thing earlier this year about struggling with writing, and belonging while not being a content creator, and other things … the issue is that, as I tend to do with my fandoms, I get too overinvested. And sometimes, that’s okay - whatever gets you through the night and all that - but in this case, I wasn’t enjoying it any more. Some parts I was - I’ve made the best friends I’ve ever had in a fandom here, and I really like seeing everyone on here - but in general, I was spending a lot of my time feeling anxious, resentful, worried, angry and frustrated. I spent a lot of last year and almost all of this one waiting for Godot; hating the “new normal” and desperately waiting for - something that’s never going to come. I just couldn’t deal with it; probably for reasons bigger than just D&P but that’s how it manifested. I got more and more frustrated by the content we were getting because it wasn’t what I’d hoped, and I hated feeling like that. It took up way too much of my thoughts and every day was just waiting, and wondering, and worrying. And I got so, so sick of it.

So, where am I now? Well, it was inevitable really, but I just started to - let go, a bit. I didn’t throw my hands up and go, ’bah, screw these guys!’, my mental focus just shifted (for my own good), and I started focussing on other things. Other fandoms. Games and hobbies I can distract myself with. I’ll admit it wouldn’t necessarily have been my *choice*, you know? But reality is what it is and I’m - relieved, really, that I’m not unnecessarily tormenting myself about it any more. It took me a long time to reach this place - too long, really - and, for now at least, it’s kind of nice. I can just enjoy things if/when they pop up without the accompanying sadness and anger about how everything is changed, about what has ended and what I’ve “lost”. (And it’s not 100%, by the way; it’s still there, just - quiet, now.) I can look at, I dunno, someone’s gifs of Dan or whatever, and just smile about it rather than feeling that grief. (Or, feel it, but not to the exclusion of everything else.) It’s - nicer.

And it isn’t at *all* that I don’t care any more, I still love them, of course I do, and will continue to follow them and watch everything they do. I’m not going anywhere. I still have notifs on, though they don’t quite send my heart into my throat like they did. ;) In a way it’s helping me love them more, because now when I watch them I enjoy it more, appreciating the fun and the bants without laser-focussing on my own anger and sadness. I’m still attending our little daily phannie watch-alongs, where we watch a couple of eps of DAPG and an anime. I’m still on phandom tumblr/twitter on the daily. It just - has a slightly smaller portion of my brain and mental energy now.

It was a step I needed to take, but also one I’m not sure I could have *chosen* to take, not without deliberately leaving and cutting it all off completely? And I didn’t want to do that. I’d hoped I’d get to this place earlier than this - some 20 months after the fact - but better late than never, I suppose.

(Also, disclaimer - fandom and the human heart are funny things, and I fully accept I can and probably will be sucked completely back in at any time.)

Anyway! SEE YOU AT THE QUIZ :D

#mad.txt #tw covid #personal

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tinyjefe · 5 years ago

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Finished my first game and game jam!

Link to my game Ahh, Crabs! I realized that I haven’t posted in a while, so I thought I would write about finishing my first game and game jam, and what my next plans are. Get ready for a fucking novel lol.

I entered the I Can't Draw But Want To Make A Game (Again) game jam because I wanted to make a game. Before starting the jam, I’d thought about game development and 3D modeling on and off for about a year, but hadn’t started any projects. Last summer, I’d watched BlenderGuru’s series and made a render of a doughnut which was cool and did a few tutorials on the Unity learn site, but I didn’t do anything with those newly developed skills and eventually forgot most of what I’d learned. I’m currently 24, going to be 25 in August, and I think a lot about how I spend my time, am I on the right path, what do I want out of life, etc. All of the big existential anxiety inducing questions. I work as a front-end web developer, its a great job, but I know that I don’t want to do web development forever. Anyway, I’d recently started thinking about game development, and wanted to try committing myself again. Game development presents the opportunity for me to create something that combines all of my interests. Art, music, technology, story telling, world building, animation, etc. It’s also appealing to me because being an indie developer means being an entrepreneur. I know that I want a life where I’m my own boss. I want to decide what projects I work on and what takes priority. I want to build a creative life where I can support myself financially from my work. I thought about how this time could be different from a year ago where I tried to get into game development, but never committed. I started off slow by creating small assets with MagicaVoxel while I tried to come up with ideas. This is when I remembered that game jams were a thing. I found the game jam (not going to keep typing the name cuz its long as hell lol) on itch.io and was hesitant to enter. I was afraid of starting and committing to something only to let myself down when I didn’t finish. I’d recently started journaling and was writing about this fear that I had. I realized as I was writing that I was stopping myself from trying something because of fear. That’s when I decided to commit to entering. The great thing about game jams is that they take place over a set period of time and you’re usually given some kind of parameters. This was EXTREMELY helpful to me because I was able to quickly come up with an idea for the game. I knew that I only had two weeks to finish. Not two full weeks because of course I work full time and have other home chores to do. Plus ya girl likes to relax and watch anime ( I think at the time I was actually reading Hana Yori Dango aka Boys Over Flowers uwu). So being given a set time period helped me to plan a semi-realistic scope for the game. So I started to work on the game! I had a lot of fun making silly art and music. Because the mechanics of my game were also SUPER simple, I could easily find tutorials for everything that I wanted to implement. Even with the tutorials, I still had small hiccups as I worked my way around Unity and C#, but I was never stuck for more than a few hours. Things were going great! And then.... I stopped working on the game. I think I didn’t work on the game for like 4-5 days?? I got off track because of some personal stuff that I had to deal with. Once it was handled, I didn’t immediately get back to work. I wasn’t really motivated anymore and I was running out of time. I felt like I had wasted time already, I wasn’t going to make the deadline so why FUCKING TRY *sobs*. BUT! Once again, journaling saved the day again lol. I was writing about these feelings and saw how stupid I sounded. Why TF am I giving up before the jam ends???? BITCH!!! So I got back to work. I think at this point I had like 3-4 days left?? Something like that. I worked my butt off , literally until the deadline. I was rushing like crazy, super determined to finish. I was keeping up with a Trello board of things I wanted to add to the game, but a lot of things had to get cut. For example, the help button, a pause game function, cleaning up the mechanics, also wanted to add some pre-game comics, etc. BUT thankfully I was able to prioritize the absolute must haves to make the game playable and shippable lol. So, the deadline was 12am CST Friday. 11:59pm CST rolled around. And I’m still waiting for my build so I can upload it. 12am came and it was too late. I didn’t make it. I was literally sobbing. I don’t remember the last time I cried so much. I was just feeling super emotional. I had a long day at work, just spent the last 8 hours crunching to finish my game to submit to the game jam, and even though it was finished, in the moment I felt like a failure because I couldn’t submit it to the jam. I know it may sound silly, like BITCH you did the thing! You made a game! You reached your goal! Buuuut I was still feeling like shit lol. The build finished and I uploaded it it itch.io. I was sniffling around the discussion board on the jam’s page, feeling sorry for myself, and decided to post a link to my game and let everyone know that Hey! I finished this game but couldn’t submit it in time. pls check it out *sobs* WELL! Many blessings came my way, the creator of the jam was sending unique submission links to people who missed the deadline a little! They saw my post and sent me a submission link. Of course I submitted that hoe so fucking quick lmaooo A wave of relief washed over my exhausted shriveled body. It was time for celebration and sleep because a bitch had to go to work the next day. I’m so thankful for this experience. I saw something that I wanted to do, I committed, almost QUIT, BUT PUSHED THROUGH AND REACHED MY GOAL! I feel so much confidence in myself and my ability to pursue and finish my creative projects, whatever they may be. SO WHAT’S NEXT BITCH???? Well, thank you for asking uwu I’m going to make another game! This time, not part of a jam so I have to keep myself super accountable. I want to make a game where I can learn and experiment with dialogue, camera movement, art, and sound design. I think I’ve settled on an idea but need to give it some more thought before I commit and reveal the idea. I’m hoping for about 30-45 minutes of game play?? And I want to work on this project for 6 months, so pretty much the rest of 2020. Might as well keep myself busy while the world burns :/ If anyone is reading this and made it this far, wow, i’m impressed. I wouldn’t have read this much lol I think I’m going to make a youtube video on this topic?? I mean, if I can write a novel about it might as well talk about it on youtube. It can be my first dev-log-ish type video for the yeahyeahbaby channel (that has yet to be created lol) Okay. Bye-bye now.

#gamedev #indiegamedev #retrospective #GameJam #womeningames

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riftmeanewverse · 5 years ago

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GETTING TO KNOW THE MUN:

NAME : Ana NICKNAME : annachibi FACECLAIM : none PRONOUNS : she/they HEIGHT : 5′6″ BIRTHDAY : april 22nd AESTHETIC : bluey-purple & rainbow. overalls. baggy t-shirts. smiles. sitting in strange positions. sunsets. chillwave & synthpop. LAST SONG YOU LISTENED TO : Moonrunner by Droid Bishop FAVOURITE MUSE (S) YOU’VE WRITTEN : Sorren, Hopper, & Russel

GETTING TO KNOW THE ACCOUNT :

WHAT INSPIRED YOU TO TAKE ON THIS MUSE : Since I talked about Hopper last time, I’ll talk about Sorren and Russel this time. So they originally came from message board RPs years ago. I was on a board run by a couple of friends and of course as I got to know them I started blabbing on about Rufus Sewell (who was the fc for the OC I had made there - Rhys, a grumpy half-selkie chain-smoker, kinda a proto-Sorren in a way). I became known for it, as I tend to do lol. So when they started up a new board with a medieval-ish original fantasy setting and I let them know that I would come along, they made a “canon” for me with Rufus as the fc and had him be “morally ambiguous” as per my request when I found out they were doing it. Basically, he had a few connections to other characters, a couple lines about his basic personality, and a last name. The rest was all up to me. In fact, I can actually grab the blurb yeah here it is:

“though technically more like an older brother than a father to his adopted sons, baron radvhet is a confusing man. one may think his intentions are good, but the next they believe him to be evil. he's raised the boys well to follow in his footsteps. the rest of his history and personality are UP TO THE PLAYER.”

So yeah, that was it. I was honestly just inspired by Rufus’s acting and the depth he brings to even small roles. I think at the time I was mostly thinking about his Agamemnon and Tom Builder. I tried to make him... not really evil, but “ruthless” was a word that came up a lot. He had opinions and prejudices that were honestly xenophobic, but he sorta had to be that way in order to justify the role he played in his country’s court. I never got to play it out, but he tortured spies to extract information and dealt with poisons. At the same time, he had this side to him that really wanted to be a good father to his sons, despite the fact that he had a difficult time connecting with them emotionally. It was a real challenge to balance those two sides of him. At the heart of both of them was a fierce loyalty to country and family. And then, of course, that loyalty became challenged when he found out that the king was not the good man he thought he was...

Shit, I’m supposed to just be talking about inspirations, not going on a whole meta. XD Anyway, yeah, the other players loved him and sorta looked at him like a dad at first because I started off with a thread with one of his sons, so then I tried to switch it up and change their minds by having him get really angry with someone who accused his son of something (which he totally did, but Sorren didn’t know that) and getting into a sword fight over it at a peace conference which then basically turned into the beginning of a war. Sorren wasn’t bothered because he figured it had only been a matter of time before war broke out anyway so why not get it over with, but yeah... I don’t think I ever quite succeeded in getting them to think he was Not Good, but they did then consider him a badass lmao

So at that point, everybody on the board basically had this idea of Rufus tied to his usual kind of badass gruff characters, and when the creators of the board started up yet a new one (this time a boarding school with teachers) I wanted to turn the tables on their perception of Rufus completely. So I came up with Russel, based somewhat on Rufus’s character in Uncorked, the dorky, excitable, sweet cinnamon roll of an English teacher. I actually put a lot of myself in him, from his backstory to his interests. A lot of the other characters on the site had crazy names like Andromeda or yknow those kinds of names that sound cool but you don’t ever meet anyone named that in real life? So I tried to give Russel a really normal-sounding name along with the rest of him. I dunno, I just wanted to prove that 1. Rufus Sewell could be used as a fc for a total dork too, and 2. “regular people” characters without super tragic backstories are also interesting and likable!

So yeah, that’s how those two came about. I ended up changing Russel’s fc when I saw Hugh Dancy in Hannibal.

WHAT ARE YOUR FAVOURITE ASPECTS OF YOUR CURRENT MUSE : Sorren has sometimes taken on less of a morally ambiguous role since I made him, partly because it requires a good bit of plotting out beforehand and partly because I realized that no matter how “evil” I made him, there would always be someone who would see his motivations or his other "good” actions and overlook it in favor of thinking of him as a good guy, unfortunately. So if I want him to be confronted or punished or called out by other characters, I pretty much have to explicitly tell people that’s what I want, which kinda takes some of the fun out of it. WOW OKAY this was about my favorite aspects I am so off track omg! But that I guess used to be my favorite aspect of him, and now it’s... I dunno, it’s hard to choose, and it changes depending on my mood and what I want to emphasize. I guess I love that he’s just so multifaceted. I’ve had him such a long time and gotten to play with him so much that I know him like the back of my hand.

For Russel, it used to be that he was so “normal” in a sea full of OCs with heterochromatic eyes, tragic backstories, legendary weaponry, etc etc. I still do like that about him, because it really lets his quirks and his personality shine when he doesn’t have any of that fancy stuff to hide behind. He’s such a dork, and he has this depressive streak that can make him mopey and annoying, but I kinda love that about him too. He’s just so real, I guess. He’s a good person but he has his flaws, too. They’re nothing huge like being a torturer, but they’re there and he is always learning and trying to be a better person, even if nobody says he needs to work at that.

WHAT’S YOUR BIGGEST INSPIRATION WHEN IT COMES TO WRITING : Music, usually. Heck, I went off on a complete tangent and Russel came out full force because I found a song that made me think of his ex lol! When I write sad stuff, I usually try to find a song that will epitomize the mood I’m going for and listen to it on repeat while I’m writing. But my fcs can also inspire me, as I detailed above with Rufus. Okay, I say fcs but it’s usually Rufus. Rufus Sewell is my gatdang inspiration. There, I said it. The man is an amazing actor and plays such a wide variety of roles that I find myself thinking of gestures or expressions or ways of speaking that he’s done on camera and going “okay now how do I put that in words?” I do that with the others too, particularly David Harbour, but yeah.

FAVOURITE TYPES OF THREADS : I love it when characters get to really connect with each other and emotions come out in their actions or words. I play characters who may not always say what they’re feeling, but if they’re feeling something, it’ll come out in other ways. Russel gets excited and happy about things. Sorren gets sad or defensive or evasive. Making him uncomfortable is hella fun. Hopper is also like that but I love how touchy-feely he is by nature, so I enjoy putting him in situations where he can express that. And I’ll mention my angry girl Phoenix on my sideblog because she is a bundle of emotion and I heckin love it. But yeah, make them feel something! Angst, fluff, humor, it can all lead to that.

BIGGEST STRUGGLE IN REGARDS TO YOUR CURRENT MUSE : HONESTLY I don’t know if it’s that I’m really active and reach out to people a lot or if Stranger Things and Hopper are just really popular or what, but I have a lot of threads. Don’t get me wrong, I love having something to reply to all the time, but it’s kind of a double-edged sword? Which kinda sucks because I actually want to RP with a ton more people than I already am?? THE STRUGGLE

TAGGED BY : @aspecialprovidence

tagging: @tenacitybred @ambersrpblog @goxinsane @lovclyiism @playboytm @ridingwheeler @astra11 @mindslayed I’ve already done this once before so I don’t wanna re-tag people but also if you’re reading this and you wanna, do it!!

#ooc #ooc ; about the mun #stuff: Sorren #stuff: Russel

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chaoticgoodvirgil · 6 years ago

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Dreams

WC: 1300-ish

Pairings: none

TW: violence, robot-gore/body horror, PTSD-coded flashbacks.

Author Note: of course the first thing I write as any kind of SS fic (any fic, actually) is angst af. This comes after reading all the asks and discussion about @fangirltothefullest 's steampunk AU yesterday evening. It's two parts, one for Patton and one for Dee (does he still only have a placeholder name?) Idk why I ran on the dreams thing, but I would like to let people know that this is fairly nice at the end. I'm not going to leave angst hanging in the air or anything like that. Oh, and one of the concepts I have in the fic is inspired by a part in Turtles all the way Down by John Green, who was in turn honouring his friend Amy Krouse Rosenthal.

Also I'm on mobile due to the wifi in my university dorm being crap, so I apologize for any formatting errors/no read more.

They say machines cannot dream. However, this is furthest from the truth. See, dreams are only impossible if you think that they can only happen while sleeping. If you broaden your horizons, and think of all those times, staring into a nothing distance and cycling through whatever your brain has to offer as dreaming, then it would be fair to say that Automations dream just as much as anyone else.

The first time that Thomas noticed the Automations he found doing this, he almost missed it. Virgil was still out of power at the time, a hole in his back where the oversized key once was, and so the others had taken to taking shifts, keeping an eye on him. Patton immediately stepped forward to take most of them, and it was while walking in to check on him that Thomas had seen it.

A dazed expression was on his face where it was usually so focused on the task at hand. It looked like he was staring, hard, at something out the window nearby, but his eyes drift past everything that can be seen out there.

Thomas thought about getting his attention for a split second, before reconsidering, and letting him be, returning to the main room.

A large, ornate room surrounds Patton in his thoughts. There are tools and supplies for most small everyday repairs, screwdriver, the spiral shell shape of the vacuum. It was his office in the mansion, and despite everything, he misses it. He misses what kindness was afforded to him there by their master, and the time before he sat, watching his family destroyed. He misses home, despite the fact that he knows he shouldn’t. He thinks for a moment that he should look for Virgil, perhaps he was left unwound again and needs help. He actually almost gets up before --

He blinks. A high ceiling and neat desk are replaced with a snug, homely room and one of his best friends on a table, still. Oh yeah.

He sighs just as the door opens again. It’s Roman, and he stands before he can tell Patton that his shift is over, to go for a walk or do something other than sit there; he knows Roman doesn’t like talking much anymore. He thanks him, deciding to talk to Thomas about repair plans some more.

As he leaves, he thinks of something that has become a bit of a mantra or reminder since they arrived at the workshop: We’re here. Sometimes it's said in a different way, like "at least we're here." Sometimes it's just those two words. He doesn’t quite know why, but the grounding thought steadys him as he continues his day.

The second time Thomas sees this happen is more obvious. Thomas learned some time in that Dee was the oldest of the Automations. He was the closest thing the others had to a guardian, or an older sibling that wasn’t their creator, even if they each had their own specialities and agency. He wouldn’t tell Patton not to do something related to repair, save for preventing him from completely destroying himself in the process, or tell Virgil how to dance. But he was someone the rest trusted, and Thomas caught that quickly.

The new key was fairly close to finished by this point, and Dee was doing his shift. Like before, Thomas walked in as the Automation’s eyes were transfixed on nothing, letting his mind wander away from him.

It was That Day, as the others soon started to call it when casually brought up. But it wasn’t quite over yet. The day was as eventful as any, what with their master calling on them for whatever small task was needed. No guests were invited, which was a relief, but it seemed like the master called them for more things than usual, even things that he would normally do himself. They had no time to question it. Their job wasn’t to question the thoughts of the man who made them.

“Where’s Virgil?” he asked Logan. He hadn’t seen her all day, and had become concerned about her key.

“I’m not sure,” they answered after thinking for a few moments, “perhaps one of us should go look for her. They may need winding.”

“I’ll do it,” Dee said, “if I’m asked why I’m making rounds so late, I can say I’m checking for anything that needs to be placed back in the kitchen.”

Logan nodded, wishing him luck as he left.

Sure enough, he found her in the room for guests, frozen in place, posed like a ballerina statue one would find in a music box. It was quick fix to wind her back up, but before he could, the master showed up.

“What are you doing still active?” he asked.

“I was just looking for Virgil, Sir.” he explained, gesturing to the still frozen automation.

“Ah,” he waved his hand, dismissively, “leave him. There’s no point in it anyway.”

“What do you mean, Sir? She deserves to be active”

“If I need the dancer, I need him, don’t try to do things without my permission.”

He sighed, realizing that this would be a matter better handled after a performance instead of the middle of the night. “Yes, sir.”

“Good. Now return to your room.”

He did as he was told.

Blink.

Dee’s just caught the first scent of smoke, asking the others if they smell it too.

Blink

He’s arguing with his creator, screaming repeated whys and hows when he ran down to find him winding up Virgil, keeping the key, and slipping into shadows.

Blink

It’s the moment where time stands still after being hit. Dee knows himself well enough to know that that was a lot of damage. There’s something horrifying about seeing a piece of your face on the floor, cracked into spiderwebs. By the time he recovers, Virgil’s at his side and their master is gone. Fire is building.

Blink

The fire is too much. He sees the small vacuum, the one he called his pet in secret, the one that everyone found amusing as it traveled the house, and thinks, for a split moment, not this too. He jumps to it, gets it away from the flames, but gets caught. For what felt like forever, there was only the fire, and the angry melting. He doesn’t even feel the hands at his own, pulling him away, supporting him as they continue their walk.

Blink

Virgil stopped moving. Everyone could feel everyone else’s panic. Again, not this too. They knew they were still active, but rather drained. They were almost outside. They can’t wind her up again. Patton moves from helping Roman support Dee to picking up Virgil and carrying him out.

Blink

It felt like the whole evening all over again, but it was really only a few minutes. Dee feels the wheelchair under him again, looking over at the still frozen Virgil on the table. Thomas is still there, approaching little by little, and then very quickly when Dee sighed, shaking his head lightly upon coming back to the present.

“Are you alright?” he asked the automation, who had a very slight tremble in his hands and a jump in his eyes.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he lied. What else could he do? For all he knew, this new guy was… worse. Vulnerability was not an option.

“I’m not going to press you on anything, but know that I’m here if you ever want to talk about things. Or if you don’t, that’s fine, too. But I’ve been noticing Patton say this thing sometimes, usually really quietly or to himself. It’s we’re here.”

“That’s kind of… on the nose, isn’t it?” Dee didn’t understand where he was going with it.

“I guess, but he means that you guys are here, right now, and together, and here. I figured you would like the sentiment, that’s all. Did you want to get some air or something?”

He looked down, sighed again, and refused. He was fine, just daydreaming, is all.

Thomas left, and for the first time, as Dee listened to the soft sounds of metalwork and the quiet conversations outside the door, of the humans helping him and his family, still here, despite everything, he realized how homely the workshop felt, in a way nothing else quite had before.

#thomas sanders #ts #thomas sanders fanfic #sanders sides steampunk au #sanders sides #logan sanders #ts virgil #sanders sides virgil #ts patton #patton sanders #deciet sanders #ts deciet #sympathetic deciet #ts roman #roman sanders

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curestardust · 6 years ago

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if you want: slice-of-life / realistic portrayal of wlw relationships with no fanservice

We obviously know why I’m here. If something contains wlw, expect me to appear there sooner or later.

Aoi Hana is a pretty special series. Among all the shoujo ai series whose main draw is the fanservice and the fetishization of girl on girl action, Aoi Hana contains none of that. It’s a quite realistic take on the “genre”.

The way I’d describe this anime would be to say that it’s about “Fumi’s first love”. Our main cast consists of Fumi, a very timid and gentle girl who moves back to her hometown where she meets Akira (Aa-chan) with whom she used to be friends with as kids. Despite the expected premise, Aoi Hana isn’t a love story between these two. Fumi meets a girl called Sugimoto on her first day in her new school. They eventually start dating. The series is basically about Fumi’s personal growth throughout this relationship with multiple characters and their interjecting love interests keeping things even more interesting. I’d also like to mention that while wlw relationships are the focal point of the anime, Fumi is the only lesbian in the bunch. Two other main characters are bisexuals and we aren’t really given anything to figure out Aa-chan’s.

With the complicated relationship “drama” you’d expect Aoi Hana to be pretty spicy but it’s a slice-of-life through and through. The story advances at a very slow pace and focuses quite a bit on side-characters’ relationships, friendships and just general school life.

The technical side perfectly mirrors the anime’s pacing and general atmoshpere. The OST contains a lot of piano and various musical instruments and the OP/ED are both slow and soothing. The animation is very smooth and the art direction is quite interesting with the backgrounds only being drawn as if they were just sketched. The character designs are simple but distinct.

However, there’s a reason I said that this is about “Fumi’s FIRST love” as this is just a small piece of the actual story. The manga was unfinished at the time of this production and thus they decided to leave the ending SOMEWHAT open-ended. Not in a bad way as most of the story threads have been wrapped up but they left room for a potential sequel which I’d love to see so bad!”

Sidenote: compared to my review my score may seem low and that is because I may have appreciated how the series was handled, I’m really not a sucker for SOL and the pacing was way too slow for me personally. [7/10] (x)

Recommend: HELL Yeah! | Yes | Eh??? | Nope | This anime killed my parents

if you want: boobs and asses tbh / okay-ish beach volleyball matches

Harukana Recieve is a sports anime mixed with some slice-of-life. Which sport? Beach volleyball. And as I found out from watching this, that is apparently very different from normal volleyball.

The story starts out with Haruka, who moves in with her cousin Kanata. Now living near the ocean, Haruka obviously takes a trip down to check it out where she meets 2 girls playing beach volleyball. Later it turns out that Kanata has certain connections to the pair. This is the start of how Haruka gets her first taste of the sport which later leads to her pairing up with Kanata. A bit later we meet another pair, the Thomas twins, who get the other 2 to join the beach volleyball club at school.

Honestly, Harukana Recieve was quite boring to me. The slice-of-life between the matches felt really slow. They did give some character bulding moments to our characters, however this being a sports anime I think the same could’ve been achieved during or after some exciting matches. And while the anime tries to give some depth to our cast, for quite some time I could only think of them as the tropes they represent...cause of the fanservice.

I looked at a few pages of the manga and was surprised to see that the characters don’t look like they came out of a hentai which means that making their boobs 3 times the size of what they were in the manga was a conscious choice. The creators most likely thought that the story couldn’t carry the anime and instead they filled the empty spots with a lot of eyecandy. Boob jiggles, close up shots of their asses and of course weirdly small swimsuits, everything a salivating virgin would want and more!

Shortly about beach volleyball from what the anime told me: a team consists of 2 people. A pair can only touch the ball 3 times while it’s in their court before needing to send it over the net. This part was initially what I thought made the matches quite boring to watch as it really doesn’t offer much variety. The tactics were the exact same for a long while. Recieve the ball, second person goes up to the net and passes up the ball to be hit over, first person jumps up and hits ball over. Repeat. However, I took a look at some actual real life beach volleyball matches and I realized the problem. The camera work. In real life, the passing of the ball is incredibly fast paced. You barely have time to think, the ball is just flying all over the place. In the anime however, they often pan on the ball while it’s in the air or even slow down the camera after a hit, making the matches feel much more sluggish than they actually would be. This is made worse by the fact that they barely use any wider shots, mostly just close ups from a lot of weird angles, making it hard to discern how big the court actually is and following the ball’s trajectory is almost impossible, as sometimes the ball looks like it got launched into the stratosphere and then we pan to literally a few meters from the person who hit it.

Obviously, the lack of tactics used in the matches could be attributed to the fact that Haruka is new and she is slowly progressing. Which is realistic, but doesn’t make it any less boring.

The final 3 episodes more or less consist of one match, which is the most exciting part of the whole thing. It still has the problems I pointed out above but as the 2 pairs are both more or less experienced, the fooling around is finally over and replaced by some actual tactical playing. It helps that the match also carries much more emotional weight than the ones before.

Well this ended up being hella long...if you just wanna look at boobs and asses go ahead tbh. If you want the beach volleyball part just watch the last 3 episodes. If you’re not interestested in either, then... [5/10] (x)

Recommend: HELL Yeah! | Yes | Eh??? | Nope | This anime killed my parents

if you want: beautiful presentation and nature scenes / some insight into diving / iyashikei (healing slice-of-life anime) / peculiar charm

Amanchu! is a special case for me. I see it mentioned a lot that one of the most exciting points of the anime is that it’s made by the creator of Aria, which I’ve obviously heard of but haven’t seen yet. And while this would work great towards me not comparing it to a prior work of the mangaka, I still made a mistake by having preconceptions about what this anime would be like.

My vague memory of the plot was that it was going to be about a diving club. Great! Basically another sports anime, which I’m fine with. However that wasn’t quite the case.

In the beginning, we’re introduced to Futaba (Teko) who moves into a new town, away from her dear friends. She is very shy and timid. Then at her new school she happens to meet a peculiar girl named Hikari (Pikari) who quickly befirends her and makes her join the diving club with her. The overarching plot of the anime is Teko’s change from a shy little girl into a much more mature young woman thtough Pikari, the diving club and the sport itself.

That is, in the first half of the anime and then the last episode. However, there’s a pretty big chunk of Amanchu! where the diving barely gets mentioned in favour of some slice-of-life and character building episodes, some of which focus on the side characters; the other 2 members of the diving club, a twin sister and brother and the club manager who’s their teacher. Unfortunately, most of these episodes fell flat for me as they really aren’t...very interesting characters!

While my lack of enjoyment in most of Amanchu! could be chalked up to me being a bit sick of slice-of-life stuff thus making it hard to get invested in what was happening, there’s something else that can be a huge turn off for people which is the “comedy”. Whenever something that demands a reaction happens the characters’ heads turn into a circle and their faces kinda turn into an emoji (for examples look up ‘Amanchu faces’). All of them have a specific “emoji face”. This looks cute of course but the anime uses it SO OFTEN you sometimes feel like you see their normal faces less than their emoji faces. Characters also have certain “ticks” like Pikari constantly saying “upyo!”, Teko making this high pitched “eeeeeehhh??” and the twin sister kicking her brother in the back at basically every occasion. The “funny sibling abuse” trope I hate anyway but your opinion of these things I just listed could make or break the series. It could either annoy you to hell and back making it basically unbearable to watch or you can find it incredibly charming and entertaining.

If you’re on of those many people who find it charming then Amanchu! will be a great iyashikei (healing anime) for you. The presentation is absolutely gorgeous with soft linework and a vivid but inintrusive colour palette. The background music consists of some very nice instrumental tracks. Of course, the anme shines especially during the diving and underwater moments while the slice-of-life episodes bring up some less serious but everyday questions. The enjoyment of small moments is a big part of Amanchu!.

This anime wasn’t really for me but I’m still giving it a quite weak 7 as I don’t think it deserves to be listed with some of my 6 rated anime that are objectively much worse. [7/10] (x)

Recommend: HELL Yeah! | Yes | Eh??? | Nope | This anime killed my parents

#dusty reviews #Sweet Blue Flowers #Aoi Hana #Harukana Receive #Amanchu!#Amanchu #pls dont kill me amanchu fans #also glad that i could get this out before my hospital stay

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wonderwonderhowido · 7 years ago

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Year-end meme time! I have been answering these questions once a year without fail since 2006. Maybe one of these years I’ll stop, but not for 2017.

Was 2017 a good year for you?

Yes! In February I decided I wanted to quit my job and go to Brazil for 3 months. I quit my job and moved away from NC in July, left for Brazil in August. I had a short-lived but intense romantic relationship from April-July. We drove across the country together. Brazil was really challenging but overall amazing. With the exception of a couple periods when life was too hectic, I kept up with my yoga habit. I think I made it a full 8 months without skipping a whole week actually? Maybe it was 6 months, I forget now, I just know that it was an important milestone for me at the time because I have never managed to keep up an exercise routine that long before. I spent more time at the ocean and by the pool than I have in most other years of my life. I lost some weight. I stayed relatively on top of my shit (bullet journaling really helped, when I was doing that), and stayed sane. I read a fuck ton of Harry/Draco and BTS fic. I took a lot of chances with people I had only just barely met. It has honestly been a pretty stellar year for me personally, the mounting sense of despair over the external world aside.

What was your favorite moment of the year?

Being in the ocean with kids climbing on top of me, demanding to be tossed into the waves.

What was your least favorite moment of the year?

Nothing actually stands out. I had some pretty low moments of crying over certain things in my life, but nothing I can talk about on the online, and besides since none of them were reacting to specific things they all sort of blend together in my memory anyway. I did cry whole buckets while leaving my goodbye party in NC and continued to cry when I got to my ex-BF’s house and then cried myself to sleep, but it feels sort of not right to call that a least favorite moment, just cathartic.

Where were you when 2017 began?

At the same new years’ party I was at when 2014, 2015, and 2016 began. That night was kind of a mixed bag for me, although I did get a new years’ kiss, which I will probably not be getting this year.

Where will you be when 2017 ends?

One of my oldest friends in SLC is hosting a “polar plunge” at her house, so I’m going to do that. I probably will not be taking any kind of plunge myself but I can provide emotional support to those who shall.

Who will you be with when 2017 ends?

My friend Jennica and her husband. I have no idea who else, I don’t think I know most of their friends these days.

Did you keep your new years resolution of 2017?

Looking at the half-assed resoluations I made…. Lmao, no I didn’t, but then my goals for the year changed rather drastically in February when I decided to upend everything, and I feel pretty good about how I followed through with all that stuff.

Do you have a new years resolution for 2018?

Have another list of resolution-ish intentions I have, I still would not call this list whole-assed but hey:

-complete a 30 day yoga challenge (I am on day 7 already, actually, so if I keep up with it I'll knock this one out before the end of January)

-don't let more than 4 days go by without going to yoga (other than when I'm traveling)

-don't let more than 2 days go by without writing (other than when I'm traveling)

-write original fiction at least three times a week, even if it's just like, scribbling down 100 words of a writing exercise (again, other than when traveling)

-read at least 25 books

-read at least 20 short stories

What was your relationship status? Did you break up with anyone?

I was in a relationship from roughly April-July, we broke it off before I left for Brazil. I dated other people in there, although no one for as long as I dated him.

How many one-night stands?

I think four? Idk depends on what you consider a one-night stand. And I made out with lots of different people, which was fun.

Did you make any new friends in 2017?

I made a lot of new friends in Brazil! I’ve made some new friends and reconnected with old friends through kpop. I seem to have made some new friends in SLC, which has been really nice.

What was your favorite month of 2017?

Probably September. April really ranks up there, too.

What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you?

I turned 30!!! I think on the day of I went to work, got taken out to lunch by my boyfriend, swam in my apartment’s pool, and started watching Boku No Hero Academia, also with the boyfriend. I had a small party for myself over the weekend, if memory serves. It was really nice, low key and happy, I really enjoyed turning 30 and have been very much enjoying my thirties since. I remember thinking that I was going to feel angsty and panicked about turning this number but that never really hit. It was mostly just good.

How many different places did you travel to in 2017?

Ashland, OR; Wilmington, NC; Charlotte, NC; from Carrboro, NC to SLC, with stops along the way in Birmingham, New Orleans, a town in Texas that I have forgotten the name of; in Brazil: Fortaleza, Taiba, Manaus, Tefe, Mamiraua Reserve, Monte Alegre do Sul, and Sao Paulo.

Did anybody close to you die in 2017?

No.

Did anybody close to you give birth?

Yes, K and E.

Did you miss anybody in the past year?

I missed my NC friends a lot after I moved away. I missed Brazil and my people there.

Do you hate anyone now that you didn’t hate this time last year?

Other than public figures, no, not really.

What were your favorite movies that you saw in 2017?

Loving Vincent, Thor: Ragnarok and The Last Jedi.

What was your favorite song from 2017?

I have not done a great job of keeping track of which songs I’ve listened to the most this year, but: Silver Spoon/Baepsae by BTS; Nights by Frank Ocean; Soldados by Legiao Urbana; Don’t Take The Money by Bleachers; The Louvre by Lorde; Ultralight Beam by Kanye West; Young by The Chainsmokers.

Did you have a favorite concert in 2017?

Bleachers and MUNA in Charlotte! Also Chance The Rapper.

Did you drink a lot of alcohol in 2017?

I feel like yes but I think I did less getting super drunk than in previous years.

Did you do a lot of drugs in 2017?

Not ‘a lot’ but I was not expecting this to be the year that recreational drugs came back into my life. So ‘a lot’ by my usual standards, I guess.

What kept you sane?

Yoga, walking, and journaling. This is a very boring and literal answer, sorry, but it’s true. I’m sorry to be one of Those People but exercise and mindfulness are the reasons I’m able to be off anti-depressants.

What did you do in 2017 that you’d never done before?

Traveled to a foreign country by myself. Tried cocaine. Wrote fanfiction commissions. Taught english classes. Learned how to samba. Used a bullet journal. Did goat yoga. Interviewed a creator I admired. Went to a club by myself.

What dates from 2017 will remain etched upon your memory, and why?

-August 21, the day of the eclipse and the day I flew to Brazil.

-July 28-29, my last days in NC, the night one of my cats spent in the bathtub of a friend’s apartment, and the days I spent frantically moving out of my apartment.

-The Women’s March. Both because it was one of the very few times this year I felt politically empowered, and because that night I had a really fantastic tinder date with a woman who had also been at the march. This was only a couple days after I’d been dumped by the girl I was seeing, so I felt very spitefully pleased about the timing of it all.

-April 22. At my old job, we opened up a new public preserve, an event everyone in the org had been working to make happen for years. The event itself went extremely well and was super gratifying, and then that night was one of the early and really great dates with the guy I was dating.

What was your biggest achievement of the year?

Quitting my job in a way I feel good about. Making Brazil happen. Moving out of my apartment. Sticking with yoga. Finishing my otayuri Spy AU. Writing all the fic that people commissioned me for, even though it took me forever and a day. Paying off my credit card post-brazil.

What was your biggest failure?

I am disappointed in myself for not trying harder to write and publish more nonfiction, even though I felt all this momentum in that direction after the McElroy piece I wrote in May. I am also disappointed in myself for losing steam on the novel I started in 2016. There are some conversations I wish I had had with important people in my life, that I always chickend out on having. There are some feelings I wish I had been able to leave behind, but couldn’t.

What was the best thing you bought?

Other than plane tickets, probably my chromebook. It does not feel real at all that I bought that in 2017, though. This year has been five years in one.

Compared to this time last year, are you:

a) happier or sadder? happier

b) thinner or fatter? thinner

c) richer or poorer? poorer

How did you spend Christmas?

With my family in SLC, like I almost always do. We opened presents, my dad and I went to yoga, I read a lot of kpop fic, in the evening we went to a dinner party at my parents’ friends house and I ate a lot of really good food.

What was the best book you read?

If I manage to finish The Female Man today, I will have read 23 books this year, not counting the 6 Animorphs books I reread and the gazillions of BNHA manga chapters. That’s actually more than I thought I had read, and maybe I should make my books goal for 2018 a larger number, hm.

But anyway I think the best book of those was probably The Basic Eight by Daniel Handler or Blind Assassin by Margaret Atwood. I also loved Swing Time by Zadie Smith but I read that at the beginning of the year so it sort of feels like a lifetime ago.

How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2017?

Well for half of it I’ve been either living out of a backpack or in my pajamas almost 24/7. Also I got rid of most of my wardrobe. So I guess minimal?

What would you like to have in 2018 that you lacked in 2017?

A new Carly Rae Jepsen album!!! And greater financial security, a home in a city I’m happy about living in.

What do you wish you’d done more of?

Writing original fiction and freelance writing. Exercising more discipline in my writing life, in general. Mindfulness exercises when I was upset. Taking photos of people I wanted to remember.

What do you wish you’d done less of?

Sweet jesus do I wish I had spent less time mindlessly refreshing apps on my phone, particularly twitter. Also pointless angsting about personal relationships. Gone on less Tinder dates that I knew weren’t going anywhere.

What are your plans for 2018?

Going to Japan in May with @corvidyouths and @globsavethequeen!!! And getting a job in New York or LA or DC or, who knows, somewhere else that I haven’t though of yet.

Quote a song lyric that sums up your year:

Well, I don’t know how much of my year this actually sums up, but these lines have been rattling around my head more than anything else. From Nights by Frank Ocean:

I ain't trying to keep you Can't keep up a conversation Can't nobody reach you Why your eyes well up Did you call me from a seance You are from a past life

#annual navel gazing #personal

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theclaravoyant · 8 years ago

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tickling the tail of a sleeping dragon

AN ~ for @florchis. you asked for it. literally.

Prompt: Fitz starts self-harming to cope with the Framework aftermath.

This is, unsurprisingly, quite angsty and contains a lot of references to suicidal ideation, extreme guilt, and self harm - some of which are quite graphic. It does end hopefully so it is not all dark, but it's worth a warning.

Rshps: FitzSimmons + some Bus Kids.

Read below the cut or on AO3. 4500wd. Rated M.

Fitz wondered if the creators of the atomic bomb had ever felt like this. Sure, Oppenheimer had gone on to live a long life and die of cancer, but Eatherly and Slotin hadn’t come out of it so well. The hands that built and fired the weapons. They always seemed to end up worse off than the masterminds, in every war - and somehow, this time, Fitz was both.

tickling the tail of a sleeping dragon

They weren’t mad.

Not at him. They hated Aida, hated Radcliffe, hated God, but never him. Not to his face, anyway. He supposed it was to be expected; they knew how fragile he was, and he had been through a lot, despite what he’d also brought down on them. But a man was dead because of him, and Fitz wished that just once, someone would get properly mad at him for it.

Jemma had tried once. Maybe somewhere in there she really was angry. Angry about being lied to, angry at the way he’d let himself get tricked again when he knew better. But when she tried to yell at him about it she yelled at his father instead, and at Radcliffe, and at Aida, and she started crying about how his mind and body had been turned inside out and she’d been scared of him, and how she was still scared, and angry on both of their behalves that something like that could have happened.

So Fitz had a guilt left uncleansed. He felt it on his skin, tasted it in his food. He thought that maybe this was what prison was for – to make you suffer the sensations of your own guilt. But then, everyone else was in here too. The innocent people. Well – maybe not quite innocent, but innocent of this. His best friends were in here with him, being punished alongside him, and for all their reassurances of camaraderie, Fitz knew that it was him they were here for. So nothing that happened to all of them was enough for what should happen to him.

The others all told him it was going to be all right; that if anything, he should be grateful, be relieved, that the world was no longer at stake. But it had always been Fitz’s way to see the little things, like the way Mack mourned a wound that Fitz had somehow re-opened. Like the way Coulson doubted himself, poring over old cases and wondering if his willful ignorance had been as dangerous out here as it had in there. Like the way, though it broke his heart, that Daisy couldn’t stand by him in the lab while he worked, even on something as mundane as a toaster. And Jemma - Jemma flinched away from him sometimes. Just sometimes, just a little, but he could see that she hated herself for it.

So perhaps the world was not at stake, but his world had all but been blown to smithereens and he was walking through the aftermath alone.

And he deserved to.

Because even if the others were right, and he really was a good person, he’d still done bad things. Horrible things.

Like. Crimes-against-humanity bad.

He deserved these ghosts, this doubt. He deserved everything he had coming to him. A man was dead because of him, because of real foolish – selfish – decisions he had made, even before the Framework. Maybe Jemma had been right in her utilitarianism all along, Fitz thought. Maybe he should not have tried to protect her with Aida. Maybe the cost was too high – not that he’d known it at the time, but he should have seen it coming.

Potentiality. Fitz wondered if the creators of the atomic bomb had ever felt like this. Sure, Oppenheimer had gone on to live a long life and die of cancer, but Eatherly and Slotin hadn’t come out of it so well. The hands that built and fired the weapons. They always seemed to end up worse off than the masterminds, in every war - and somehow, this time, Fitz was both.

He turned his face up into the water of the shower. He wished it was hotter. Or colder. Either one would do; just anything but this indifferent purgatory of a temperature splashing into his eyes and mouth. He wished it was faster, harder, enough to sting his skin. He longed for a sensation, any sensation, more interesting than broth. More worth living for than helpless guilt. He longed for ecstacy, rage, agony, anything.

Instead he had lukewarm water. Towels that were not quite threadbare, but were not plush enough to actually dry anything, and fifty-cent soap that stunk like chemicals when all he wanted was to be clean of them. He had a girlfriend who loved him but could barely talk to him, and a best friend who talked but couldn’t comfort him. Nothing could comfort him. He didn’t want to be comforted. He’d thought being with the team would help, but this didn’t feel like being with anyone. Or rather, it felt too much like being with them, when he knew with his whole heart that he should be here, and they should be free.

Maybe Jemma had been right in her utilitarianism all along. Maybe the good of the many was more important than the needs of the few – and more than that; maybe the harmful, rotten few should be thrown away for the good of the many.

Maybe he should…

Maybe he should.

Fitz’s eyes dropped to where Jemma’s razor sat in a tray with soap, and a shower rose, and sharp edges. The gleam of the blade entranced him, promising to be the only thing in this place that could give him that sensation he so longed for. And the pain – the pain that he deserved.

He picked it up, and pressed his thumb against the blade. Blood welled, and Fitz hissed through his teeth, but he didn’t pull away. He pressed harder. A sharp pang of regret – of instinct trying to force him back to safety – was soon drowned in a feeling of calm and clarity. All his attention, just for a second, was pulled down to that one feeling. Finally, something all-consuming.

And then it was gone, the cut made, the pain over. Fitz remembered he was standing in a dank, all-but-communal shower in a prison in space and he remembered why he was standing there and he remembered why he’d cut himself and still, he didn’t regret it. He should regret it, right? He should be horrified with himself. He should get help, immediately.

Or he could… try again. Try for better. He wasn’t ready to open a vein – not truly ready to die, and certainly not ready for Jemma, or anyone else, to see what he was doing. And yet, the compulsion refused to leave him. It only grew stronger. If this, a mere scratch, could make him feel such a high, what could something deeper do? It was simple scientific method…. Only, corrupted by the very pain that blinded him to its corruption. He knew only that he was getting what he deserved, and it felt as satisfying as any praise or accolade he could have dreamed.

Was this penance?

Did it still count as penance if it made him feel better, and not worse?

And what should he do now?

Fitz took a deep breath, and let instinct drive him. He pressed the blade against his thigh. It was easy enough to cut oneself by accident with one of these; surely it would be even easier on purpose. And the important arteries were on the inside of the leg, he figured, so he was safe. (ish). He pressed and dragged, and hissed through his teeth as the blade skittered along his skin. It was messier than he’d been anticipating; four tiny blades made for more ragged cuts than one thin one would have. Shallower, too. It was not as satisfying as the first time.

But God, it stung, and it brought tears to his eyes, and that was not nothing.

“Fitz?”

He jumped, bumping into the walls of the small shower cubicle as he threw himself off balance. It was Jemma’s voice, and now he could hear her coming down the isle toward him.

“Is that you in there? Are you nearly done?”

Shit. SHIT. Fitz’s heart raced. He struggled to think what to do with Jemma’s razor. Should he put it back? Should he get of the shower? He still had blood on his leg. Those hawk eyes of hers would notice. He shouldn’t put the razor back. It was unhygienic. It had his blood on it. He still had blood on him. She was too close now not to notice.

“Sorry, is that Fitz? Or someone else? It’s just – I’ve got to shower before inspection and I’ve – I’ve left my razor in that cubicle. It’s got the best water pressure so… I mean, I don’t mind, if you could just pass the razor…”

She trailed off. Fitz squeezed his eyes shut. Every other sentence seemed an effort for her these days. Another loss that was on his hands. And though it made him feel sick to the heart, he knew he was about to make things worse. He had to lie to her. He couldn’t very well tell her about this, could he? Instead, he envisioned where his towel was. Just across the corridor.

He lunged for it. Jemma yelped in surprise as he suddenly sprung out of the shower, but he did it without slipping, and managed to wrap up his lower half in the towel before they’d both sorted out their bumbling limbs.

“Yes,” he insisted, waving his hand at the cubicle in a fluster. “Done. I’m done. You can have it.”

Jemma frowned, and glanced inside the cubicle and back.

“Are you alright?”

“Mmhmm.” Still trying to get a handle on his wide eyes, Fitz nodded. “Just… thinking. About… things. Didn’t see your razor though. Wonder where that’s gone? Didn’t Daisy tell you never to leave things in a communal bathroom?”

He cleared his throat, and realised that was a mistake as it drew attention to the way his voice strained. He was usually a much better liar than this, but to put it kindly he didn’t have the willpower to commit to a better one. It was too late now, anyway. He barreled toward the main bathroom doorway and Jemma let him go. (Aside from anything else, she was already undressed; it would be a nuisance to go after him now). But she frowned to herself. Fitz was acting strangely. Well, particularly strangely. It was not as if anybody was acting ‘normally’ these days, and Fitz was not exactly stable at the moment, but his elusiveness still put her on edge. As for the razor… It was indeed not here, where she’d left it, but the bathroom was only shared by the team; she couldn’t think why any of them would take it.

Then she noticed a tiny smear of blood near the hot water tap, and suddenly, it came to her.

Fitz panicked. He threw on the first combination of clothes he could find – not that that was a problem; basically everything was grey here – and looked around his room for ideas. Should he keep the razor? With a sickly pining, he already longed to press it against his skin again, in the privacy of his own cell. But Jemma’s razor was officially missing now. What would happen if he was discovered with it? What would his captors think? What would Jemma think? That it was some sort of sick memento? Or would they see right through it? Either way, he couldn’t keep it. But he couldn’t throw it out in his own bin either. He needed a communal one. One as public as he could get. That way it would be taken out sooner too.

The kitchen.

He pulled himself together and set himself on the path, keeping to a pace that was fast but hopefully not suspicious. Just eager to get in a snack before dinner. He had a set of steps all muddled together in his brain but his body knew what it was doing by now. Like a survival mechanism, it moved flawlessly.

In. Fridge. Bin. Cupboard. Tea. Kettle. Cup. Tissues. Throw them in the bin and bump it for good measure. Back to the kettle. Waiting patiently and definitely not out of breath. Smile. Smile at Daisy.

She smiled uncertainly back.

“How’re you doing?”

“Tea,” Fitz replied. “I mean. I’m in the mood for it. Tea. D’you want some?”

“Sure.”

Daisy took a mug from the cupboard above their heads and set it down beside his. Fitz smiled amicably. Daisy couldn’t see his clenched fist or the way he was ever-so-carefully regulating his breath. As he became more sure of this, his fist unclenched, and his breathing steadied naturally. He thought he might just get away with it – to rehash his plan another day – as he waited for the tea to infuse and then pulled his bag out. He let Daisy take it off him on her way to the bin, where she dropped both of the teabags in.

It was that split second that betrayed Fitz. His fatal error.

Or one that potentially saved his life, depending how one looked at it.

Because the teabags hit the tissues, and soaked them and moved them, and Daisy saw the gleam of metal beneath them and looked harder. Pink plastic. A razor. Jemma’s; the kind with the detachable head. Only, she hadn’t detached it. And she’d thrown it away in the kitchen, of all places.

Or had she?

And was that… blood?

“Coming?” Fitz invited. “To the – lounge?”

Daisy smiled at him, and the answer to her questions seemed obvious. At the same time, more questions were raised. What had Fitz been doing with Jemma’s razor? Why was he trying to throw it out with her knowledge? It could have been part of some zany experiment, Daisy reminded herself; this was a man who had probably come out of the womb with a working potato clock in his hands. But nothing in their lives was ever that benign these days.

Jemma’s thoughts took a similar path as she scrutinized Fitz from across the room. She’d skipped the shower. They’d dock points, but it was worth it to keep an eye on him. And, great, now she was making it worse as she bit at a nail anxiously while studying him. Fitz had a band-aid on his finger, but he could have cut it in the kitchen just now, or working earlier today, or anything. That could be where the blood was from. But then, why had Fitz been so skittish in the showers, and what had happened to her razor?

And why did Daisy look like she’d uncovered something she wished she hadn’t?

Jemma closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and let it out slowly. She did have a penchant for jumping to horrific conclusions, but with good reason; namely, that the gradual conclusions that she let run their course tended to be horrific too. She’d always known Fitz had very deep-running emotions and considerable self-esteem issues that had, unsurprisingly, been worse of late. It was not too hard to believe that with so much guilt as well, he might – well, do something… drastic. She’d just always hoped that he would reach out to her before it got to that point.

Then again, his whole time here had been one giant cry for help. She’d just never known how to answer it. Sympathy? Reassurance? Anger? Quiet? None of them had seemed to work. Not for lack of trying. Sometimes, it seemed - as much as she hated to admit it - that love just was not enough. It certainly didn’t help that no therapist in the universe would be up to the challenge by this point. They just had to muddle through and do the best they could. Which, she hoped, could be better than this.

Daisy fought her way across the room to Jemma as soon as she could. From the worry in her eyes, it was obvious that she knew something was up. Before she could open her mouth, however, Daisy pulled her aside and whispered:

“I’m worried about Fitz.”

Jemma squeezed her eyes shut. “Oh god. Me too. What did he do?”

“I was hoping you could tell me.” Daisy grimaced. If she’d seen the worst of it, it wasn’t looking good. “I… found your razor in the kitchen bin just now. The whole thing. I think Fitz was trying to get rid of it for some reason.”

“Some reason?” Jemma repeated; trying and failing to sound hopeful, as though there might be a reason other than the one she’d come to. Then, she confessed; “I thought as much. He was acting strangely in the showers just now, like he was hiding something. Maybe it was that. But tell me, Daisy, do you think-“

“Do you think…?”

“I’m afraid I do.”

Jemma sighed, her eyes drifting back to Fitz. He hung near Mack and Elena like a bored, and slightly anxious dog. He was avoiding Jemma’s eyes, and Daisy’s, and though he’d brought a cup of tea with him, he only seemed to be drinking it for want of something better to do. He kicked at the scrappy carpet. Jemma felt tears prick at her eyes.

“I thought he would tell me. I always thought he would tell me if something was… that wrong,” she whispered. “How foolish.”

“No, come on, not foolish,” Daisy assured her, without quite as much heart as she was aiming for. “This thing’s taken a toll on all of us. And he’s still here, alright? If he wanted to not be, he’d… not be, by now. He knows what he’s doing, crazy as that sounds.”

“Knows what he’s doing?!” Jemma squeaked, and took conscious effort to hush her voice again. “Daisy, he cut himself in the shower. On purpose. And tried to hide the evidence. He’s not okay!”

“I didn’t say he was okay, I said he knows what he’s doing, and we probably shouldn’t talk about this here.”

In louder voices, they made a point about Jemma borrowing something of Daisy’s and ducked out into the hall, where they continued to bicker in stage-whispered tones. Jemma’s intense protectiveness flared with a touch of rage. Daisy, as mad as it seemed, took a more nuanced approach, insisting that self-harm and suicide were not the same thing.

“Now, see, what I’m saying is,” she insisted. “That makes our job tricky, because we have to get him to stop without pushing him forward. And that’s a lot of responsibility. We have to be careful.”

“Careful?!” Jemma yelped. “We have to stop him right now. I’ll handcuff him to the bed if I have to.”

“Oh, yeah, wrap his wrists in strips of metal, that’s a great idea,” Daisy quipped, glaring. Jemma glared back for a moment, but the effect was tempered somewhat by a slight but relentless sheen of tears in her eyes.

“Okay, but what do we do?” she wondered, her voice small and helpless. Her hands grasped at imaginary straws in thin air, and she pressed them to her neck instead, feeling the beat of her own heart in her carotid. It was a lot faster than she would have liked. She struggled to breathe smoothly enough to slow it down, but gradually, she got there. “What do we do?”

“Well. It’s not like I’m an expert or anything, but I know there are alternative behaviours you can substitute in for more harmful ones?” Daisy suggested. “Unfortunately… it’s not going to get you out of a tough conversation.”

“Me?” Jemma repeated.

“Well, I can give it a shot, but I think he might take it better coming from you. Plus… you can pull the Doctor card on him, I can’t.”

“I’m not a real doctor.”

“Psht. As if he cares.”

“You’re right. You’re right. It’s – it’ll be fine. Somehow.” Jemma nodded uncertainly. “He didn’t want us to know. Once he knows we do, he’ll stop. He won’t want to scare us, or hurt us. He’ll stop. I’ll start from there and… work the rest out.”

“Careful,” Daisy reminded her. “You don’t want to make him think he has nothing to live for but us. He already thinks he’s trouble. If he thinks we’re better off without him it’s only going to get worse.”

“Oh, Lord,” Jemma murmured. “Are you sure you shouldn’t be doing this?”

“I don’t think we should team up on him,” Daisy pointed out. “And you’re the one that grounds him to reality. You’ve been with him the longest. Not just because you’re you, but because you’ve been with him half his life. If he starts to panic, you’re in the best place to pull him out of it. You can do it, Jem. And if either of you need a shoulder to cry on, then come to me. I’ll be right here, okay?”

“Okay. Okay. I’ll just…”

Jemma scanned the room and her heart plummeted. It was approaching dinner – they were about to be called any second – and Fitz had disappeared. As relaxed as these few minutes seemed to be, it was only on the condition that role call was met. Where was Fitz? And more importantly, what was he doing? Was he trying to get punished? Would a baton to the legs satisfy his craving for pain; his desire to seek out abuse? Jemma raked her hands down the sides of her face.

“I have to go,” she whispered.

“I’ll cover for you,” Daisy replied, but Jemma was already gone.

Jemma checked the bathroom again, heart racing until she had gone up and down the isle and confirmed that every cubicle was empty. There were very few other places he could have gone. She checked the toilets, and after that all that was left was his room.

He’d locked the door. Well, barricaded it with something, since they didn’t have locks. A bad sign. Jemma felt a little like throwing up, but she knocked on the door instead.

“Fitz?” she asked. Then louder; “Fitz? It’s dinnertime. We’re going to be late for inspection.”

“You go,” he insisted, his voice weak and unsteady. “Go without me.”

Jemma gritted her teeth, and shoved her weight against the barricade. It barely moved, so she tried again.

“Fitz,” she growled. “I’m not leaving you. What’s going on?”

“Nothing, I’m just… not well,” Fitz said. “Go. Please?”

Jemma sighed, and let her weight drop against the door. Every word felt exhausting, but she spoke them. She had to.

“Daisy saw you try to throw away my razor. I saw the blood in the shower, Fitz. I know something is wrong. I’m not going to walk away and let you hurt yourself. That’s just not going to happen.”

Fitz hissed through his teeth. “It’s too late for that.”

Jemma’s heart clenched. She stood, wondering just how much power she would need to barrel through that door. Should she get Daisy after all? Or Mack? They would come, in an instant.

But then there was a clutter of furniture moving out of the way and Jemma stumbled through the door that all but swung open for her. Fitz was curled up on the bed, having kicked a chair out from under the handle with his leg. The cracked porcelain of his teacup, and the spilled drink, decorated the floor, and blood soaked his sheets. So much blood.

“I made a mistake,” he whimpered. It was a struggle to meet Jemma’s eyes, but she knelt in the spilt tea to reach him. Brushed the curls out of his eyes. His pallor was pale, almost greenish, and his forehead coated in a light, cold sweat. With shaking lips, he begged; “Help me, Jemma.”

She nodded. Over and over again. She nodded furiously. Anything he needed, she would give. She looked him over and found a bloodsoaked rag – a shirt? A pillowcase? Both, apparently, wrapped around his forearm in one soggy, bloody mass.

“I don’t know what’s wrong,” Fitz explained, helpless. “Too much, too sharp, too deep… It won’t stop hurting, Jemma. It’s supposed to stop.”

Jemma took a deep breath and pried away the material. She swallowed a grimace at three long, fine cuts. Two of them were not all that bad, but one of them had ripped into some fatty tissue. She was surprised Fitz hadn’t thrown up at the sight of that. At least he hadn’t cut the vein. It was fixable. It was survivable. She very nearly slumped in relief.

Then, she did not. A glimmer of purpose returned to her eyes. She sat straighter, and picked up another nearby shirt to press against his wound.

“You hold this. Not too much pressure but don’t you dare let go. I’m going to get some glue and bandages. I fully expect you to be breathing when I come back.”

Fitz smiled weakly. “Yes Ma’am.”

She took off down the hall like a bullet. If they spotted her and pulled her into inspection now, who knew what would happen? She’d probably incapacitate them and go on her way. With the sense of urgency running through her right now, she probably could. Even a cattle prod couldn’t stop her now.

(Except, scientifically, it could – so she really hoped it didn’t come to that.)

She gathered an armful of supplies and ran back to Fitz’s side. There were cameras everywhere. She’d probably be reprimanded later, so she’d deal with it then. Their captors did seem to want them to take care of themselves though, so maybe she could get out of it that way. She tucked the plan away in her mind to work on itself while she went about cleaning and repairing Fitz’s wounds. Once his arm was wrapped up to her satisfaction, she eased him to sitting and helped him into a long-sleeved shirt that covered up the bandage. He watched her forlornly.

“I’m sorry, Jemma,” he said. “I love you.”

“Yes, well…” Jemma choked up, and blinked back tears. She’d done well not letting them actually fall until this point, and she was determined to stick with it, so she kissed his fingers gently instead. “I love you too. But come on. We’re late for tea.”

Fitz shook his head, but Jemma brooked no opposition. She hauled him to his feet and led him down to the mess hall. One of the guards stepped up to meet them and Fitz all but pulled Jemma behind him, puffing his chest to front the guard.

“Sorry, sir, it was my fault, I –“

“Couldn’t resist a little alone time,” Jemma finished for him, nudging him in the ribs with a playful smile. “You know how we are. Lovebirds.”

The crack of the nightstick against her shins quickly wiped the smile off her face, but at least she had a publicly explicable reason to look a little tearful as she hobbled down the isle to Daisy’s table, hauling Fitz after her. Daisy’s wide, concerned eyes spoke volumes. Fitz avoided them.

“Are you okay?” Daisy asked.

“Maybe one day,” Fitz muttered, bitterly. Helplessly. Even with half his body in pain, he still felt a little like stealing Daisy’s bread-knife, but he didn’t. Not least because Jemma had pressed herself against his side, so that they were touching lightly all the way down, and intertwined her fingers with his below the table. His grasp was weak – muscles unwilling to extend and refresh the wounds – but hers was strong. It was all they had in this place, and she was never letting go.

It had always been Fitz’s way to see the little things, and sometimes, that was something to be grateful for.

#leo fitz #fitzsimmons #thefitzsimmonsnetwork #engineering vs biochem #fsfic #team engineering #brot3: bus kids #self harm #suicidal ideation #angst #clara's fic tag

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gryphonablaze · 5 years ago

Text

OKAY so I had some thoughts

philosophical I guess? Idk I just had a lil bitty creative speculation writing spree I suppose. It was fun. A summary below

THOUGHTS

A Native American tribe (I can’t remember which one I’m sorry) has a story that this world is the third (or fourth I haven’t heard the story in a hot minute) that the creator has made. They burned the first because humans became shitty, flooded the second because humans became shitty, and what happens to this one has yet to be seen. Ish. Idk man we have a pretty good idea of where we’re goin and it ain’t good ANYWAY

Idk if any of the major monotheistic religions (Judaism, Christianity, Islam) have a story of the world burning, but I(‘m pretty sure they share this story) know the story of the great flood and the ark and such n so.

But let’s go back to the beginning. In the Christian version of it, ya gal in the sky took seven days to create the world. But days weren’t technically a thing until the sun was a thing and the earth began turning, thus creating lengths of days (hypothetically). But being a writer, I had a thought.

When I’m writing a story or something, first I get the general gist of it. Idk the particular order that various creation stories lay out, but I know that the idea comes first. And day/night cycles and the solar system and such tends to come later. And so do the specific, like, species of flora and fauna and so forth. So ‘created the sun on the third day even though without the sun there is no day and night,’ if ya think about it like that, seems pretty reasonable to me.

Now to the destruction.

Personally if I don’t like a story I’ve written it’s usually resigned to a dusty digital corner of google drive.

But if you’re writing on a more traditional medium, and you really fucking hate a story? It wouldn’t be too nonsensical to think that they’d burn it.

(Cue tangent) of course maybe they regretted toastin it and went back like ‘maybe I should use some of the source material to start over. Whoop I lost like 90% of it.’ Perhaps this happened a few times. Perhaps those events, if they led to this world, would have left remnants, okay the point: extinction events. Interpret this how you will, I suppose

(/tangent)

Anyway. Start over. Okay, doing good. Using a similar geological premise bc yeah that part wasn’t so bad, now let’s sprinkle in some flora, fauna, aaaaaand lets give humans a round tw—ah fuck they ruined it again. Chuck it in the ocean and start over again. Maybe save some animals though they weren’t all that bad and it’d be a pain to start completely from scratch.

Let’s hop back to that dusty digital corner and resign everything I’ve just said to the hypothetical (lmao as if it wasn’t already). I doubt you haven’t heard those jokes about how this is the timeline god abandoned.’ Now, if ye Almighty Author can make a world that just keeps going in ON ITS OWN, a story that writes itself—many authors’ DREAM—and then plop it in a corner and leave it, or even straight up forget, everything that’s been happening is indeed the product of probability and actions.

Or, let’s go back even further. Like cheese or smth, let’s whip up a world. Add some rocks, some oxygen, some other stuff perhaps, and see what happens. And in that dusty corner over billions upon billions of years, the beautiful thing that is evolutionary luck works its work. And perhaps there was intervention in that time, perhaps there was not and only people claiming they were the intervention—and that’s given that their interpretation of higher powers is even in the ballpark—hell, this whole post is dependent on that assumption.

Take it back perhaps back even further; create a universe. Create some chemicals. Physics, gravity, energy, all that jazz—and through the combination of those mechanics and also some more luck, hydrogen squished itself together into stars and [insert development of the universe and solar systems and planets here]. Now that I write that, it occurs to me—we could simply be a scientific simulation someone ran, a replica of their own universe perhaps, applying all they knew and filling in as many variables as possible, or hypotheticals for a universe with rules entirely different than theirs, new kinds of physics and new kinds of chemicals and all new kinds of little tiny everythings. And click,

BANG

And here starts the universe.

And of course, in thinking of a higher power as an author or creator or someone running some simulations or someone, it’s entirely possible that things happened to turn out/they modeled things in a way so different than their existence. It’s entirely possible that whatever or whomever that hypothetical creator is, the idea of them is beyond our comprehension, beyond even our idealogical conception.

But if this hypothetical creator does exist, so there may be other universes. Parallel universes, alternative, completely bafflingly different, so many other shelved stories or simulations left to their own devices. And if you add in the actual multiverse theory (in which every choice ever made spawns another universe, and the other universe is one in which a different choice was made, so now they’re two parallel universes), each of these different universes, possibly with entirely different laws of physics and function, they themselves branch off into countless, infinite alternative timelines.

Summary

Section one starts with how there are multiple creation stories and a lot of them share the idea of an original world, then the creator destroying that world (with either fire or flood.)(repeat optional) and recreating it. Think Noah’s Ark.

Section two explores the hypothetical destructions in those stories (the flood or the fire etc) and stages the creator as a writer who is unsatisfied with their stories and thus destroys them.

Section three goes back to the ‘author’ theory and expands upon it with how this story/world (starting where most creationist stories start) may be abandoned on a metaphorical dusty corner of a shelf and essentially running itself—the point here is to create the image of our world being small or insignificant to the author.

Section four takes that idea, but sets the start at the beginning of earth’s creation as a lump of rock.

Section five takes that idea, but sets the start at the beginning of the universe as bunch of energy, matter, what-have-you was floatin’ around out there in them early millennia. It then suggests that this universe could be a simulation in which was tossed whatever existed in them early millennia and some basic rules and laws of physics and such

Section six then goes on to speculate that if this universe is a simulation (or a story, still) the basics of it may very well not be based on whatever the hypothetical author/simulation button presser exists in. Therefore there could be other universes also based on different basic building blocks, perhaps with different laws of physics, for example.

Section seven introduces the idea that if there is a hypothetical author/simulation button presser, there may very well be other stories/simulations (universes), that may be based on aforementioned different basic building blocks. It also tosses in the multiverse theory, which is that every decision ever made spawns a new parallel universe. Envision this as a tapestry of fractals, the beginning points being the simulation button being pressed, or chapter one beginning. There could be infinite possible beginning universe, and adding the multiverse theory, they break off infinite times into infinite parallel universes. Hence the fractals.

#existentialism #religion #universe #universes #parallel universes #creative writing #prose #simulations #stories #writing

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