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amerricanartwork · 11 months ago

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I saw your lilypad art post, and I got curious: why do you enjoy lilypad? it's not a common RW ship, so I'd be interesting to hear what about it you enjoy!

Hear me out, guys... I must explain myself before I get onto the Lilypad essay.

I made that original comment because, at the time, I wanted to just get the aforementioned headcanons out as soon as possible. Understand, my reluctance wasn't because I didn't want to talk about Lilypad, but rather the exact opposite: I had so many feelings about it, yet had put so little effort into expressing them in a coherent, presentable format that I just knew it'd distract me for the next week or two if I let it rent too much space in my conscious thoughts. But now that little comment has left me with several people asking me to share those thoughts, and, both thankfully and unfortunately, I simply can't resist indulging in thoughts about the characters I love—!

Keep in mind, I haven’t finished Saint campaign yet, and even then I’ve found like less than half the broadcasts in Spearmaster campaign yet, so there’s likely some extra canon info I may be missing that could add to or change some of what I say here. I also apologize if some of what I write here seems really out-of-character. I try not to let my passion for my little headcanons and scenarios make me disregard the canon, but even so, I might slip and think up some weird things occasionally. Nonetheless, I feel like I’ve got enough of the picture to start confidently enjoying this ship, so I’ll talk about it anyway!

As always, feel free to add to these ideas if you can! Without further delay, enjoy this 3381-word essay, with a few initial headcanons sprinkled in, on why I adore Lilypad!

Oh, and just in case, if you couldn’t already tell, major Hunter campaign spoilers below.

Quetzalli on Loving Lilypad

I’m gonna start this out with a preface: I can generally find the appeal in a lot of different ships and the art other fans make for them, but for me to ship something enough to actively draw it and make my own headcanons about it and such (outside of, perhaps, gifts for other people), it usually has to contain a variety of “ship tropes” that I personally fancy. Many of my most-favorite ship tropes tend to be the ones that aren’t just cute, but that carry narrative significance and seem poetic in some way, usually because they can facilitate character arcs in the involved characters. The more of these a ship has, or the more ship tropes I can portray it with without it seeming too out-of-character, and the more I like those specific tropes, the better. This principle is a major reason why I’ve gravitated towards Artimand as my main slugcat ship, but for now, I’m going to focus on which of these I see in Lilypad — in canon content, other fan-portrayals, and my personal headcanons — that, as opposed to other iterator ships, has currently won me over.

I’m gonna describe the main general things I like seeing in this ship. Some of them are more due to fandom portrayals than what’s in the canon, but they all play a big role in my current love for Lilypad.

Synergy

I’ll begin with how I really appreciate just how much synergy Looks to the Moon and No Significant Harassment are shown to have, at least in fan content! I always like seeing pairings where the characters aren’t just romantic, but also work really well together as a team or even just as friends. After all, just because the characters may be romantically in love doesn’t mean they must only show it in explicitly romantic ways. To me, Lilypad strikes me as a relationship where Sig and Moon would make an amazing team in many aspects of their lives, whether it's collaborating on projects, sharing their interests, or trying to maintain order in the rest of their group. And their compliment is just really sweet to me, though I’ll get to that later.

A Shoulder to Lean On/The Lady

One of my favorite ship tropes is “character with a lot of weight on their shoulder who finally gets to lift it off and be ‘normal’ for once when around the other”. I’ve always found it sweet when characters like this, especially ones who are normally very selfless, finally get a chance to indulge and enjoy themselves for once! And once again, this is another thing I imagine in Artimand too, and you could project this onto Trafficlights given Suns’s implied high status, but I think it works especially with Lilypad, given Moon’s role as group senior means she objectively has a lot to manage all the time with no permanent escape from it. Even beyond the whole Five Pebbles rot drama, Moon probably had a lot on her plate just in terms of maintaining order between the rest of the group and setting a good example to the younger generations, especially as the group expanded over time, not to mention trying to find the solution herself. Combine this with how I picture her to be the kind of person who cares a lot about her image as a “proper” and “dignified” leader, and someone who often sacrifices her own desires to promote the group’s welfare, I just find it really soft for her to have someone to lean on, metaphorically (and in a worm-off-the-string scenario, literally), and who better to go to than her best teammate, who knows the power of a good laugh and will stop at nothing to have fun with those he loves? Not to mention, since I headcanon Sig as slightly younger than Moon (2nd gen, specifically), I just find it rather cute in an ironic sense that the older, more serious Moon is soft around the younger, far more chaotic Sig, especially as Moon would go through the realization that she actually kinda likes this little troublemaker!

This also comes back to something I mentioned in the tags of that beepsnort post, which is that one of my other favorite ship tropes is “guy who loves/is good at making people laugh x girl who has a REALLY weird/embarrassing laugh”, and that just works so well with Lilypad! It’s admittedly a very headcanon-based thing for me, but given how I’ve already explained my perception of Moon as very proper and serious, I imagine one of the best ways Sig takes the weight off her shoulders is by being the only person who can consistently make her laugh so hard! And with the beepsnort headcanon it’s even cuter, because of course Moon would be super embarrassed every time she even so much as gives a half-chuckle at one of his jokes, because Sig is relentless when it comes to getting the giggles out of her, and he won’t stop until she’s rolling and shaking on the floor of her chamber, her beepy-snorts filling the room! My GODDD I love this trope so much, and for beings who are inherently such workaholics, I think getting to genuinely relax and have fun for a bit, once she gets over the initial shock and embarrassment, would be something Moon would really come to value.

Inverses Attract/The Tramp

I’ve mentioned it in my last Artimand headcanons post, but one of my absolute all-time favorite ship tropes is the classic “opposites attract”, although I prefer the name “inverses attract”. As I like to portray it, the trope not only involves characters who are opposites personality-wise, but those being opposites of the same core aspect, and ultimately helping balance each other out by offering the other half of the equation to each other (hence the name “inverses”). The trope I just wrote about above is how Sig helps Moon to relax and have fun, but as I try to do with all ships, how does it work the other way too? Well, I really like to imagine Sig learning to be more openly serious and dedicated! Don’t get me wrong, Sig is a hard worker (it’s pretty much the nature of all iterators), but given he seems to pretty strongly reject the quest for the Triple Affirmative, I imagine the next problem would be in him finding a new purpose to strive for. And what better new purpose than in standing by and protecting the group senior he thinks he just might wanna be more than friends with?

It already works because Moon, of course, would work to keep Sig in check and make sure he doesn’t go too overboard with his shenanigans. But just imagine how inspired he’d grow over time seeing Moon work so hard to keep the group together and keep them striving for their purpose, even if he doesn’t agree with it. I imagine it’s why Sig’s methods are still rather controlled rather than purely chaotic, and there’s a reason to his rebellion. Thanks to Moon, rather than slaving away at a seemingly impossible solution until his mind collapses with his structure, he’ll use his talents to, at the very least, keep the local group together as long as possible, because even if they’ll all be gone one day, that doesn’t mean they have to go alone!

It’s why I’m also labeling these two tropes together as “the Lady and the Tramp”, yet another ship dynamic that gets me every time! It’s a specific instance of “inverses attract” where the noble, proper lady finds a taste of freedom and courage from the dangerously charming tramp, who from her finds a new sense of purpose and honor! And in my opinion, Lilypad is most definitely the best opportunity for this dynamic among Rain World ships!

The Fated Couple

Slow-burn couples seem to be pretty popular in many fandoms, but what about a really slow-burn? There’s something just so romantic to me about the idea that Moon and Sig, from the moment they met, have always just clicked so perfectly, and have been by each other’s side so constantly ever since, to the point it seems practically inevitable to everyone (except them of course) that they’ll eventually get together romantically. Of course, there are two main roadblocks to their romance being 1.) their whole objective and purpose for being created is kind-of fundamentally opposed to strong attachments like love (I mean, if Karma 3 is Companionship, wouldn’t romantic love be considered the worst example of that?), and 2.) even if they did reject this purpose, being massive immovable structures with the only humanoid part stuck deep inside a box, a budding romance seemingly couldn’t really go anywhere anyway. In fact, because of these roadblocks much of my Lilypad imaginings take place in the ever-popular “worm-off-the-string” scenario, especially since the next couple of reasons for why I like the ship play a lot into the themes I like to incorporate in this story concept.

However, these issues towards such a romance are also what make it so sweet in the end! Just think of Moon, alone in her chamber, beginning to worry about how she’s actually kinda sorta, maybe, hypothetically, possibly, just a little bit starting to like the carefree and charismatic Gen 2 in the local group as even more than just a work partner and a dear friend, but oh no, that’s indulging in a Karmic Sin, and as group senior she can’t just throw away their purpose like that and set such a bad example to the rest! What’s she gonna do?? And then on the other side, Sig puzzling in his chamber, pining so hard for the group senior yet seemingly unable to confess, because, even disregarding Karma 3 and the fact that giant immobile calculators aren’t about to be snuggling any time soon, why would someone as perfect and powerful as her want someone like him, so dismissive of their core purpose and unorthodox in his methods? Is there even a point in having these feelings at all, when they might very well end up simply fading to dust along with the rest of his structure?

Maybe, they both think, it’d be better to just keep these feelings to themselves and quietly love from a distance. That is, until…

Moon’s Collapse and the Slag Reset Keys

The fourth reason is, of course, the most steeped in canon. It goes back a bit to the “shoulder to lean on” concept, but even aside from that, there is something just so romantic about this on both sides.

Firstly, from Moon’s perspective. There’s no doubt that the collapse must have been very traumatic for Looks to the Moon physically, but I like to think about just how much it’d affect her emotionally, too. I mean, being so painfully destroyed by your own brother, with seemingly nothing that can be done to stop it and no one to help you? And then consider how lonely it must have been in her final moments. The only comfort she does get is from Spearmaster’s visit, and even then she sends him off to go deliver her final words, which has still got to be really depressing. And finally, think about how betrayed she must have felt, trying so hard throughout her operation to help her citizens and the local group and be kind to everyone, only to have it be repaid like this, forced to collapse in on herself, being buried under her own body, unfathomable pain all around, and with not a soul to help her.

So then, think about just how shocking and heartwarming (literally, if you think about it) it must be when that lovable Gen 2, always so playful and carefree normally, is the one to give her a second chance and being her back when all hope seems lost, and using such a unique delivery method no less! I mean COME ON, Sig literally brought her back to life, how could one NOT fall in love with someone who did that for them? It links back to the “shoulder to lean on” idea, in that, for once, someone finally looked out for Moon and gave back to her for all the kindness she gave to the world. Think about this as the moment she truly realizes she’s in love with No Significant Harassment, and how tragic it’d be knowing now, it’s too late to say it. But, even so, if he’s willing to go this far to make sure she’s okay, then maybe, just maybe, there’s a chance her love at least wasn’t alone.

Now, my thoughts about this from No Significant Harassment’s side (which also kinda turned into a mini NSH appreciation paragraph that links back to the earlier Inverses Attract and Lady and the Tramp segment), I think it’s very poetic to see him going out of his way to take his messenger concept, originally used for no more than a trivial prank and at most a very experimental and unfinished alternative communication method, and turning it into a noble last-ditch effort to rescue the one he loves. It doesn’t just clearly show how much he cares for Moon that he worked to save her when no one else did (and if that’s because the odds of being able to do anything seemed very low to the rest of them, that makes it even more sweet) I think it shows off a lot of Sig’s character beyond just being a jokester. Like, I’d seen this kind of personality for Sig in the fandom content before, but this action and the other broadcasts are what first made me truly realize not just that it is based in canon, but that, more importantly he’s not just stupid or unfocused, he’s rebellious. He doesn’t joke around because he just doesn’t care, it’s because he’s independent, he’s got other places he wants to go and plans that don’t fit into what most of his peers are used to. He makes light of the world because he sees what others don’t, and it’s honestly pretty frickin’ funny how blind others can be most of the time (case-in-point: him making a slugcat from a messenger, which no one else thought to do because those creatures seemed too “dull” and “primitive” to ever be capable of such a thing). So think about how significant it must be when he’s openly taking something seriously. This is where that dynamic of the Tramp, and how Sig would benefit from this relationship is really highlighted. I just adore it when the easygoing, carefree character finally finds purpose in their lover, and springs into serious action like they never were before! And it makes sense too given what I said about them not getting together before: seeing Moon collapse would show him directly that even beings as durable as iterators don’t last forever, so if he’s got these feelings for Moon, he’s got to make a move while there’s still a chance! And what better way to show his love than to bring her back when all hope seems lost? Which brings me to the final aspects I’ll talk about here, first of which is…

True Love’s Kiss

Yes, you read that right. The real reason I love the slag reset keys as a plot element so much is not just because it shows Sig’s secret strength of character, not just because it finally gives reward to Moon’s kindness, but because it is a real fairytale come true!

I know this sounds crazy and probably totally unrelated to Rain World, but think about it! You guys have probably seen Snow White and Sleeping Beauty before, or at least one of the two? Isn’t the whole trope that the beautiful princess, fairest maiden in the land, gets cursed through some means or another to die (or in Aurora’s case, fall into an indefinite sleep), which is only undone when the strong and brave prince, riding upon his noble steed, awakens the princess by giving her true love’s kiss? I already love both those movies on their own for various other reasons, but after my description, is this starting to sound familiar in another way?

I mean, with everything I’ve said about Moon in this post so far, there’s no doubt you could perceive her as the “fair princess”, who through unfortunate circumstances is put to a premature and indefinite death. And there’s no doubt Sig fills the role of the brave prince by working to save her with the slag reset keys, which in this metaphor are undoubtedly the “true love’s kiss” that ultimately conquers all, always longed for, and finally delivered! And hey, given Hunter is the one to carry the keys to Moon, a small yet courageous beast who stops at nothing to meet his goals, Sig even has his own “noble steed”! And even if Hunter is technically the one to actually deliver the green neuron, and the death the “princess” succumbs to wasn’t out of genuine malice towards her, I think the sentiment is still there and the parallel is close enough!

But yes, as strange as it may sound, the fairytale parallel is the main reason Lilypad resonates with me so much! Those classic fairytale-esque romance tropes and that poetic storytelling found in Disney’s first feature-length animated films has always been dear to my heart, and is even more so now that I’m older and can truly appreciate the beauty of them. So now, even in my fandom experiences, ships that win my appreciation over all others are often those that manage to embody those classic romance tropes and themes as best as possible, and frankly, even Artimand loses ever-so-slightly to Lilypad in this regard! Or, as I also enjoy calling them, “Lifeline”, for reasons that are probably obvious now.

And it’s even better when you consider…

Some Things Never Change

Another trope I’ve recently begun to love is the idea that some phenomena in the world never truly disappear, but simply manifest in different ways, sometimes unexpected ones. And given the whole Triple Affirmative quest and the Ancients’ mass ascension philosophy, this idea is something I especially love seeing in Rain World content. Even the canon events show this idea, but think about how wonderfully it would work with Lilypad beyond just the slag reset keys, especially taking up that “worm off the string” iterator AU concept some have explored in this fandom already.

Just think about how sweet it would be when Moon and Sig, operating primarily through their puppets now, get to finally hug and kiss and be with each other so directly now! Think of the way Sig would speak to Moon about how, even after her collapse, she's still somehow beautiful as ever, and Moon returning with how even all the trouble the group has faced hasn't put a dent in his charm! And it's even sweeter when you consider it’s against everything their creators stood for! Think of Moon, after everything she’s been through and how much she’s probably changed at this point, now willing to give some of these “worldly attachments” a chance, because you can never truly get rid of them, but she knows better than anyone that you won’t be around to experience them forever, so why not enjoy it while you’ve got the chance? And it’d make sense too, not just for her own benefit, but for Pebbles and the rest of the group’s sake too! She’s always strove to set a good example for them, and since their original quest has left them with nothing but pain and trauma, why not show them that maybe all these attachments aren’t so bad after all?

I just think it’d be really interesting to see Moon joining Sig in that rejection of the Triple Affirmative, and what better way to do that than by finally embracing that love they’ve felt for each other for so long? Because love never truly dies, it just appears in new people. And maybe they don’t have to spend their whole lives as grand iterators, the vast infinitely-advanced mechanical deities who embody perfection in almost every way. Maybe, even just for a bit, they can just be people, falling in love just as their creators did all over again!

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

And with that, I think I’m FINALLY done here. HOLY COW, this is easily my longest post yet, and I hope it doesn’t disappoint! Part of the reason it took so long was because I was trying to find the perfect way to express all these ideas without it just spilling out onto the page in some weird half-coherent mess. But eventually I just said “ah screw it, let’s just ramble about this ship and see where it goes!” and my god, did it go far! And I still managed to somewhat organize it, so yay!

But aside from that, thank you SO MUCH to everyone who asked for my thoughts on Lilypad, and everyone who made it to the bottom of this essay! I’ve never really gotten a chance to openly ramble about one of my favorite ships to the rest of the fandom like this, so seeing that some fans, even if it’s ultimately not a huge amount, actually wanted me to do it was such a welcome surprise!

I hope you all enjoyed the drawings and the art! I’ll be around in case someone wants me to write another ship essay or something! And who knows, it’s likely I’ll find more reasons I like Lilypad as time goes on and I see more fan-content and find the rest of those broadcasts! But at least this was a starting point!

Expect more LIlypad content to come in the future, but until now, thanks again for the opportunity!

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britishsquidward · 6 months ago

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Stargazing - A Chelley Week 2024 Fanfiction

Wheatley didn't really have a goal. Not anymore, not since he'd been sucked into space, left with no other choice but to float about aimlessly. So really quite literally, he didn’t have an exact goal. It was true, those first few days - weeks? Months? - had been spent rehearsing his apology over and over again (and once more to make sure), but after a while it became scarily apparent that he probably wasn't going to get out of this soundless void any time soon.

Of course there was Kevin, but he wasn't exactly the talkative sort in terms of coherent responses, so the bluer of the two had taken to chattering on to himself. Just to himself, his own brain, his own thoughts, and no-one else's, definitely never hoping or wishing that anyone else could hear him.

Or so he told himself. Maybe it was just another way to burden himself with the guilt he felt he deserved.

"Big place, this," he commented, drifting slowly and unsuitably peacefully, "space."

"SPAAAAAAAACE!"

Wheatley ignored him. "Do you ever look at all these bright holes in the sky?" he asked, trying to make it appear as though he was talking to Kevin, "Stars, I mean. They're called stars. Did you know that?"

"Staaaaaars. I'm in space," Kevin beeped, still as enthusiastic as ever.

"N-" Wheatley bit his metaphorical tongue. Kevin carrying on interrupting like this was beginning to - pardon the pun - bug him, and where his patience had temporarily run thin, he'd had to stop himself from blurting out a "not you" in the direction of the other. He had to keep up the facade. "-Yeah. Yeah, mate, you're... we're in space. Big ol' empty space..."

He took a moment to think, his eye half-lidded and his mental gears turning. "If... if and/or when you look up at these stars, I kind of wonder if maybe, by some chance, we might be looking at the same ones. They probably look different from down there, less- less 'big'," he wasn't feeling particularly jovial, and frankly he was not in the mood for stringing together long words.

It was silent for the beat that followed, what with Kevin being too enraptured in taking in every sight he could see, despite all this time they’d already been trapped. To anyone else, it'd feel soul-crushingly lonely, but to Wheatley, as a result of the conversations he’d grown accustomed to before he'd been flung up here, the silence was almost comforting; a response.

"Still not a big talker, eh?" he chuckled lightly to himself, "Dunno what I expected. Even if you could talk, which - I'm not sure whether you can, actually, I kind of assumed you were always too - you know - brain-damaged and all, but if you could, hypothetically, even then I don't think you'd be able to raise your voice just enough for me to hear- What am I talking about? Even if it did travel that far, there's no sound in space. I can't hear you. No matter how much I might want to - not that I've been thinking about it, or anything. And you can't hear me either. Not even when I say 'I'm sorry' and mean it. I'm sorry, by the way, in case you didn't catch the last -" he'd been keeping a record in his database, so sourced it, the answer coming out considerably more robotically than his usual tones, "476 - times."

He sighed, rattling himself side to side to the best of his ability as though to convey shaking his head. "I'm completely off it today, luv, I don't know what I'm saying. Of course you didn't hear it. I just explained how you couldn't have right before that. Blimmin' heck."

"Spaaaaace. Stars, stars, stars!"

"Yep, stars," Wheatley agreed half-heartedly, "some of them shine more brightly than others, don't they?” This prompted him further, “Actually, I've been wondering something else. Wondering and wondering this one, I have. If your eyesight was really good - which it bloody must be, the way you completed all those tests in the dark - then maybe, by some chance, some miracle, when you look up at these stars, and we’re looking at the same ones, you might also catch sight of me."

A sweet concept, he thought. One that brought him restfulness, hope, a foreign warm, tingling feeling bubbling up from deep inside his circuits. Finally he felt something. It wasn't much, but it had been a while before he'd finally experienced - emotion identified - happiness.

And that lasted all of three seconds, before the anxiety in him revved up, and he was off backtracking and justifying himself once more. "N-Not that I'm saying you would or should be, or that you'd want to - because I'd completely, totally understand if you didn't want to look up here at me, after what I did. I wouldn't want to look up at me either, not with how bossy and monstrous and- getting off topic, I'm getting off topic, um, yes, I'm not saying that I want you to, either, because I don't. Well, I don't mean it like that, I mean as in I want you to, but I don't want want you to, yeah? Does- does that make sense? Yes? It does? Great, fab, let's crack on, then."

In every sense of the action, Wheatley didn't need to take a breath in, but he did so regardless. "Right, so. M-my point. I guess I... I wondered if maybe you could see me because... To put it bluntly, I miss you."

There was no point in trying to pretend he was still talking to Kevin at this point. He'd long passed the point of no return; if pretending he wasn't talking to that lovely test subject was a bar on the ground, he'd still manage to trip over it anyway. And he had, but by this point, he’d accepted it. In fact-

Core communication transmission disabled.

"Sorry, Kev, I need to focus.”

A little while passed as he reflected on his situation, on his choices, on his words. “And if we're looking up at the same stars, right now even, then this is sort of like my way of being close to you in some form. Not that I'd want to hear that from me if I were you, but it's- it's me trying to be kind, honest! You don't deserve what I did, I'm- I-I'm like that pathetic little star off in the distance, there," he made an attempt to gesture and failed miserably, "small, and- annnd in the distance. Not very... bright. But you, oh, man alive, you..."

Being pulled across slightly in his orbit, Wheatley was turned around and ended up facing a star much, much closer by. "Huh, what a coincidence... But, yes, this. There's a lot of these, but I can't always see how bright they are, because um, well, because my back is turned sometimes. Which! That's not my fault, actually, I don't have much control in zero gravity surprisingly, so I struggle to revolve at times. But even though I can't see them all the time, it doesn't mean it doesn't shine as brightly as when I could see it, yanno?"

Silence. He was giving her time to respond. Time to respond to his hopeless, unheard monologue. "Whenever I see one of these," he admitted, completely overtaken by the hollow, weighty feeling that now ate at his insides, scratching at his servos and gnawing at his wires, all bitter and uncomfortable, "a star that shines particularly brightly, I close my optic."

He did so, letting the horrid simulated emotional pain wash over him in one fell swoop.

"And I think of you."

#portal #chelley #chelley week 2024 #wheatley #chell #portal 2 #angst #bsq fic

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shion-yu · 2 months ago

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Day 18: My body is one big ache

1,307 words for @sicktember. TW very detailed description of a tonic clonic seizure. I have witnessed seizures and try to do my research, but please note everyone is different so this won’t be accurate in all cases.

If Cliff could magically exchange one issue for anything else, it would be the seizures. The focal ones and the absence seizures weren’t as horrible, although they still bothered him and were far from pleasant. But when they developed into full, tonic clonic seizures was when life truly felt like it couldn’t get worse.

Thankfully they were rare, largely contained by medication. His brain scans weren’t getting any worse, Cliff’s doctors told them, and that was good news. The bad news was that after his coma, even with all the recovery he had done, he would likely always have some lingering issues. Migraines and muscle cramps were two things that would never go away. The third, although nobody could really say whether it would be forever, was the seizures.

Cliff took his antiepileptic medication religiously each day before bed and a smaller dose each morning. And usually, this kept him under control. It was when he was sick that they tended to come, especially when combined with stress or a migraine. Today he checked off two out of the three if those prerequisites: Cliff was sick, and stressed out because for the past two days he hadn't been able to see Elliot.

A virus had hit the city hard that winter, and Cliff and Elliot weren't able to avoid it. Especially not after Alex and Ryo went down with it the day after they'd spent several hours as a group of four in the studio. Ryo had called that morning, clearly panicking as he apologized profusely that he and Alex had both woken up with fevers. After that it was pretty much just a waiting game.

It hit Elliot first, and he tried to quarantine himself in his studio where they kept a spare bed. This worked for two days, during which Cliff left plates of food and drinks outside the door for Elliot and texted him like they were lovers separated by tragedy. By the time it hit Cliff, though, Elliot was already feeling better other than a lingering cough. As soon as Cliff texted him, ‘It got me,’ Elliot abandoned the guest room and went straight to Cliff.

Predictably, it hit Cliff harder than it had anyone else. Right away he spiked a fever higher than Elliot ever did, the flashing 103.1 on the small thermometer screen as alarming as the fact that Cliff’s oxygen kept dipping low. Elliot wondered aloud if they needed to go to the ER, but naturally Cliff rejected that idea. So Elliot just stayed close, monitoring Cliff for worsening symptoms and trying to keep him on track with medications.

The morning after Cliff went down, he woke up just knowing he was going to have a seizure that day. Knowing didn’t make it any easier - in some ways, it made things worse because he was so terrified of what was to happen. “I don’t want to do this, not now,” Cliff groaned tearfully. Elliot tried to comfort him and administered his pre-ictal dose of rescue medication, but it wasn’t going to stop the inevitable.

“I’m scared,” Cliff whimpered, “Don’t leave me.”

“I’m right here,” Elliot told him, keeping a hand on Cliff’s back where Cliff could feel him. “I’m not going anywhere.”

When it started, Elliot started a timer on his phone. He kept Cliff on his side the best he could and caught the drool that ran down Cliff’s jaw with a towel. “It’s okay,” Elliot kept saying, his voice gentle but firm as he repeated this over and over. “It’s okay, it’ll be over soon. Remember to breathe, Cliff. I’m right here. Breathe. I’m here.” He had seen this many times before, but still, it never got any less terrifying.

Thinking wasn’t a good description of what was going on in Cliff’s head when he had a seizure. He couldn’t really form any coherent thoughts, but general feelings were overwhelming - of terror, of not being able to breathe, of every single muscle in his body cramping uncontrollably. The feeling that it would never end, especially.

It was a very, very long four minutes for both Cliff and Elliot both before Cliff’s body stilled and he went limp, although sharp tremors still went through his muscles like shock waves. It took another two minutes for him to come to, at which he gasped loudly and grabbed at Elliot blindly, groaning. Cliff’s lungs burned from his body forcing all the air out of them, which made him choke and splutter as he tried to take huge desperate breaths between cries. It was scary to see someone who was usually so guarded make those loud, upset noises.

“I’m right here,” Elliot said, used to the way Cliff woke up being almost as hard to watch as the seizure itself. Cliff was confused, always fearful and sometimes combative when he woke up. This time there was no hitting, but there was a lot of gagging as Cliff sucked down huge mouthfuls of oxygen. One silver lining was that Cliff hadn’t lost control of his bladder this time, so Elliot didn’t need to coax Cliff to allow him to change the sheets too. That was always difficult when Cliff was already so distressed.

Cliff whimpered, making meaningless, scared noises akin to a wounded animal. Clover was at the end of the bed, watching seriously. She never seemed to know what to do when Cliff had a seizure. “It’s alright, girl,” Elliot told her. “It’s all over.” He gently rubbed Cliff’s back. “It’s over, baby.”

Slowly, Cliff opened his eyes. “Hot,” he groaned loudly. “M’really hot.” About half of the time, this time included, Cliff’s body would completely lose its ability to regulate its own temperature after a seizure. He’d run an absurd fever, although it would quickly right itself. During these minutes, though, Cliff felt like his body was actually on fire between the heat and the pain of all of his muscles contracting and cramping over and over. His heart felt like it was beating out of his chest. Elliot was already prepared with wet rags, which he placed on Cliff’s body to cool him down. Cliff looked at him, eyes struggling to stay open but full of distress even so. “I’m not gonna have another one, am I?” He said in a slurred but desperate voice.

“I don’t think so,” Elliot said. He had no way of knowing this, but it was better to lie. Cliff continued to take heaving breaths that caught in his throat, causing short coughing fits that brought up a lot of saliva. Elliot helped him contain it onto the towel, murmuring, “That's it, keep taking good deep breaths.” Cliff had given himself an asthma attack from panicking in the aftermath of his seizures before, something that was absolute hell when he was already in so much pain and so confused. They knew Elliot consoling Cliff, reassuring him even if he said the same thing fifty times, helped avoid that. He cradled Cliff’s head in his lap and continued to wet the damp cloths to cool him down.

Eventually Cliff’s body grew more relaxed and he stopped struggling to breath so much. He was impossibly exhausted, every tonic clonic seizure beating his body worse than running a marathon he hadn’t trained for would. “Rest, baby,” Elliot said gently. He wiped the tears from Cliff’s face and leaned forward to kiss his hot forehead. “It’s over. You did so well.” Usually, Cliff would sleep for an entire day after a grand mal seizure. As much as Elliot could, he wouldn’t leave Cliff’s side during this time in case there was a follow up seizure, or Cliff woke up confused as he often did.

“Hurts everywhere. Don’t go, E,” Cliff mumbled.

“I know. I’m not going anywhere,” Elliot reassured him. He’d reassure Cliff over and over, all day.

#shionwrites #sicktember 2024 #oc: cliff #oc: elliot #fever whump #tw: seizure #seizure whump

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harrysmmm · 1 year ago

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𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟑 - 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐒𝐥𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧

Fanfiction:The Relics of Hogwarts (CLICK THE LINK BEFORE READING THIS)

Draco malfoy x Y/N Riddle (f!reader)

A/N: I apologize for the wait but here it is!! This one was harder to plan, that's why there are a lot of scenarios and less writing for each of them. Hope the story is still coherent. You guys' support is truly shocking me, I'm so glad you like the story as much as I love writing it! Love you xxx

W/C: 3.5K

Warning 1: I changed some of the functioning of the horcruxes. Everything is explained in the chapter.

Warning 2: sexual content.

Taglist: @jay-isgay @butterflyreads

masterlist here

Every student was cleaning up their tables after having attempted to brew Veritaserum in Slughorn’s Potions class. The only student that had succeeded was once again Harry with the help of his annotated book.

Y/N was taking more time than usual. She was hoping to talk to Slughorn about the location of the locket, one of the relics her father asked her to bring him. She felt someone brush her shoulder.

“See you in the Great Hall.” Draco exited the classroom.

Shivers went down her spine, but she rapidly focused back on her task. There was no time for something, or someone other than the Professor that was at that moment cutting some leaves from a Mandragora. She walked towards him when someone intercepted her, getting Slughorn’s attention first.

“Ah! Harry… what can I do for you?” he asked the young boy, his eyes drifting off to her.

Harry turned around also looking at her. She knew then the conversation was meant to be private.

“I’ll be waiting outside,” she said, packing her things and leaving.

She sat down on a bench outside of the classroom, easily eavesdropping their conversation.

“The other day I was in the library, in the restricted section and I came across something rather odd about a very rare piece of magic – but it just got me wondering, are there some kinds of magic you’re not allowed to teach us?” Harry asked.

That was unexpected, what did he want to know?

“I think your question better be posed to Professor Snape.”

“Yes, hum… He and I don’t exactly see eye to eye Sir – what I mean to say is, he’s not like you. He might misunderstand.” That was the definition of cock sucking.

“Yes. No light without the dark,” Slughorn replied. She could sense he was troubled by Harry’s question. “So it is with magic, myself I who strive to live it in the light. I suggest you do the same.”

“Is that what you told Tom Riddle Sir, when he came asking questions?”

Tom Riddle. Riddle. He was really after the relics, like her father told her. But why was he asking about magic?

“Dumbledore put you up to this, didn’t he? Didn’t he?!” Slughorn snapped.

The Professor exited the room, passed next to her without giving her a look. Seconds later, Harry followed him, staring at her but without talking, left.

“I have to get his book.”

She was having lunch in the Great Hall with Draco. Blaise and Pansy had already eaten half an hour ago due to their schedule. She had barely touched her plate.

“The book is what is making him be at the top of the class, and he’s taking advantage of that to be asking sneaky questions to Slughorn,” she continued. “If I get his book, I’ll be the top student, and Slughorn will trust me to tell me about the locket.”

“Are you sure Slughorn knows something about it?” Draco wasn’t eating either.

“Yes, my father mentioned him in the dream. Slughorn knows well… and he’s a Slytherin, right? It’s got to be about the locket,” she added.

“Right, the dream… you’re starting to sound like Trelawney, you know that?”

“I know what I saw and heard, Draco. You’ve got to help me steal the book.”

“Good luck with that. He eats with the bloody book – I’m sure he also sleeps with it. Bloody psychopath,” Draco said with disgust in his voice.

“That’s right Draco, sleep! We will sneak out at night and steal it when he’s sleeping.”

“Last time I checked Y/N, we were Slytherins. We can’t go in the Gryffindor’s common room.”

“But we can make sure a Gryffindor does… with the imperio curse.”

“That’s one of the unforgiveable curses. How do you know about that?” Draco inquired, in a mixture of shock and worry.

“You’re not the only one doing research in the restricted section,” she pointed out.

“Aight… who do we pick?”

“It’s got to be a boy.” Both students looked over Harry’s table and both minds came to the same conclusion. “It’s got to be Weasley.”

“Yeah, that red-hair reject wouldn’t know the difference between Polyjuice potion and Pumpkin Juice.”

“It’s settled. Tonight, we’re doing it.”

Draco nodded. An interesting night was ahead of them.

Students were headed to their common rooms. The very last laughs and chitchats of the day were echoing in the hallways. Y/N had her head sucked in the transfiguration homework; her mind focused on something else.

“Won-won!!” a squeaky voice poisoned the air. “I’m gonna miss you so so much tonight.”

Ron snickered, feeling cringed.

“The hours I spend without you is like spending them in Azkaban, won-won.” Oh lord.

“That’s… intense,” the red-haired replied, still cringed by her.

They started making out in the middle of the hallway. Y/N thought that the only positive note of Lavender being with Ron was that the latter got to spend less time with Potter, which eased the task.

Draco, who was reading on the bench in front of her, stood up, walking towards the couple.

“Well, well, well… look who got a girlfriend,” he started saying. “Make sure he doesn’t pass you his traitor genes or else you will get little red-hair goblins with mildly dysfunctional brain cells.”

“You’re pathetic,” Ron replied, getting closer to him.

“Offended, Weasley? Take out your wand and fight like a true wizard. Oh wait, you’re not one.”

“That’s it, Malfoy. Lavender, leave.”

“But won-won.”

“Leave! This is between Malfoy and I.”

“I love you, Ron. You are better than him,” she replied, leaving.

“May the best wizard win,” said Draco.

The hallways were empty, except for the two boys and Y/N. They both took out their wands and got into duel position. Before they could count to three, Draco attacked.

“Imperio!”

A greenish smoke came out of Draco’s wand and went over to Ron. The latter breathed in the spell and in a matter of seconds his composure relaxed, and a half smile appeared on his face. Every thought was gently taken away - he was totally taken by the spell.

“We better hurry,” said Draco to Y/N.

She stood up from the bench. “Everyone is having dinner in the Great Hall, let’s send him now.”

´They both started walking, pushing Ron from the back, the latter completely taken by the spell.

They arrived at the Gryffindor’s common room, luckily not intercepting with anyone of their year that could suspect something, seeing no other than Draco Malfoy walking with a Weasley.

“Ron, listen to me,” Y/N said.

“Yes, mommy,” he replied.

Draco chuckled.

“Not funny.” You looked at him.

“A little bit,” he replied.

“We need you to take Harry’s potion book without being seen and bring it to us. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“Go on then.”

Ron got in the common room. Draco and Y/N waited a little bit further from the entrance so it wouldn’t be suspicious if someone saw them.

A few minutes later, Ron appeared again with the book.

“It is the one,” Y/N said, leafing through it.

Draco took out his wand and pointed Ron with it. “Obliviate.” Ron didn’t move but all his memories from that moment would vanish once the Imperius curse would be lifted.

ྀ࿔

“Merlin’s beard, Miss. Diggory. It’s perfect, once again!” Slughorn said.

Y/N had become the top student in Potions with the help of the book. Slughorn was enamored with her, rapidly throning her as his pet.

“Go on people, clap at your classmate for her brilliant work.”

Everyone started clapping, Gryffindors with less enthusiasm.

She peripherally looked over at Harry, who was sharing some thoughts with Hermione. She knew they were talking about her, but she didn’t care because he couldn’t prove she was the one that stole his book. In fact, she would never bring the book to class, learning all the brewing process the night before, and taking with her the next day her usual, normal textbook.

“You are all dismissed.”

´Students started packing their things. Y/N went over to her brewing table and did the same, joining Draco at the entrance. Someone intercepted them outside.

“I know you stole it.”

Draco and Y/N turned around, seeing Harry standing up with Hermione and Ron.

“Steal what, Potter?” asked Draco.

“The book,” he replied looking at Y/N.

“What book?” Y/N replied.

“Why did you steal it? I don’t think it’s just got do with grades, has it?” he continued.

“You’re delusional, Potter,” Draco said.

“I didn’t steal anything, and I don’t like to be accused with no physical proof.”

“Harry was at the top of the class and when his book disappears, you become Slughorn’s favorite student. That’s more than enough proof,” Hermione added.

“Jealous you’re not the best, Granger?” replied Draco.

Hermione looked at Harry. “Let’s just go, Harry. They won’t admit it.”

Harry kept staring at Y/N but eventually listened to Hermione and left.

ྀ࿔

The Three Broomsticks was very busy that day. It was a snowy Saturday of December and Hogsmeade was the perfect place for older students to decompress from the academic week.

The pub had a rustic tone to it and it served the best butterbeer Y/N had ever tasted.

She was sitting down alone on one of the tables close to the wall. She wasn’t expecting anyone because she was there for a reason. It had come to her attention that Slughorn would always come at that time of the day to the pub – it was the perfect moment to fraternize with him.

As if she had conjured the devil, there he was entering the room. She waved at him.

“Miss Diggory, what a pleasure to see you. Enjoying this snowy day with a hot drink?”

“Yes Professor, hot chocolate for me.”

“Wonderful! I will take one of those too,” he said, his gaze focused on various tables to try to discern some known faces.

“You can always join in, Professor. There’s plenty of seats left.” She was hoping he would say yes.

“That’s very kind but I see Professor Flitwick at the counter looking rather lonely. I thought it would cheer him up to see me. Also, when I’ve drunk a few butterbeers I even become funny!”

“Of course, Professor, next time then.”

“I am in fact hosting a small soirée with some predilected students. I would be really glad if you could join us, next Thursday afternoon.”

“I would be honored.”

“Well then, see you sooner than expected Miss Diggory!”

Well, a door had closed but another one had opened. She kept drinking from her hot chocolate, her now warmer hands tightly holding the mug, half-covered by her Slytherin jumper.

Someone got in the pub, the bell hanging from the door piercing Y/N’s ears. A bleached boy walked towards her.

“You too here?”

“No, I’m in the Great Hall,” she said, trying to be sarcastic.

Draco didn’t reply to that.

“I’m doing it now.”

She understood right away.

“Who did you choose?”

Suddenly, someone else entered the room. A Gryffindor girl waved at Draco. He waved back.

“Katie Bell.” And just like that, he got up and walked with her to a separate room.

ྀ࿔

“So tell me Cormac, do you see anything of your uncle Tiberius these days?”

No more than fifteen students were sitting down at a round table, having dinner in Slughorn’s company. Y/N was pensive, not really interacting with anyone – her mind focused on Draco. After his plan to hand Katie the poisoned necklace failed, the latter had become far more anxious than before. She worried for him, but she also worried for herself, wondering that her plan might also be flawed as Draco’s was. She didn’t have to kill anyone, but she had to find not one but four historical, high-valued objects. That night was decisive for her.

The dinner ended up rather dull. She had to hear muggle stories about parents who fixed teeth and slopy comments from Slughorn about the school and the professors. Everyone started thanking Slughorn for the invitation and leaving the room. Harry seemed hesitant to leave, waiting for Y/N to do it in the first place, but seeing that she wasn’t, he also ended up thanking the Professor and exiting the room.

Y/N chimed a green hourglass.

“Y/N, I didn’t see you there. An intriguing object, isn’t it? The sand runs in accordance with the quality of the conversation. If it is stimulating the sun runs slowly. If it’s not-”

“I think I’ll be going then,” Y/N said, seeing the sand running slow.

“You have nothing to fear, dear girl. As for some of your classmates, well let’s just say they’re unlikely to make the shelf.”

“Shelf, Sir?”

“Anyone who aspires to be anyone hopes to end up here.” He pointed a shelf full of frames of different students from past years.

“Did Voldemort ever make the shelf, Sir?” She couldn’t resist herself. She knew so little about his own father, apart from his well-known acts. Had he been a good student? Did he have any friends? What was his favorite course?

“Why would you imply that?”

“Well, we just learned about the First Wizarding War, and he came in the picture. I was just wondering – academic purposes, you see.”

“It’s only natural, you should want to know more. But I’m afraid I must disappoint you Y/N. When I first met young Mr. Riddle, he was a quite old brilliant boy committed to becoming a first-rate wizard. Not unlike others I’ve known. Not unlike you” She knew it was a sensitive topic from eavesdropping Harry’s conversation with him.

“You see Sir, we also learned about the four relics of Hogwarts. One of them belonged to Tom Riddle for a while, didn’t it? Do you know anything about it?”

“Well, it technically never belonged to him. He declared possession over it, but the locket is part of the school, not a treasure to keep to oneself.”

“Apparently, once Tom Riddle stole it, it disappeared from the picture, but rumors say it’s still in the castle, and only the Heir of Slytherin can get to it. Do you know about this, Sir?”

“I do. I most certainly do. But it’s good old tales, nothing more.”

“But what if it’s not, Sir? Hypothetically speaking, if it was the case, where would it be?”

“Why so eager to know?”

“I’m writing a paper about it.” She only came up with that idea.

“Well, in that case, I could just imagine it would never be found, except if, well, the Heir of Slytherin, You Know Who, came to take it himself.”

“And if he did, why would it be that only him can take it?”

He turned around. “I assume you know about the language of snakes, Parsel.”

“I don’t.”

“Well, knowing that language is inherited but it cannot be taught to anyone else. We could say it’s in the genes. Only the Heir of Slytherin and his descendants know Parsel because Salazar himself spoke it.”

“So, to get the locket you would need to speak Parsel, I suppose.”

“Yes. Because of where it’s hidden – would be hidden, Merlin’s beard.”

“Sir, you said it’s hidden? You know about it?”

“Merlin’s beard, look at the time. You don’t want Filch coming at you with detention for being up this time of the night.”

“Please Sir, I just want to know, for academic purposes of course, where would the locket of Slytherin be hidden?”

Slughorn looked at her and didn’t speak for a few seconds. He finally gave an answer. “In the chamber of secrets, where else would it be?”

And just like that, she got the answer she sought.

Y/N had woken up Draco when she got to the dormitories. The locket had to be stolen that same night, and she thought Draco might know where the chamber of secrets was, as apparently it had been reopened a few years prior. They were both roaming in the hallways with once again the Lumos charm as only source of light. They got in the girl’s bathroom.

“It’s here” Draco said.

“Where exactly is here?”

“The bathroom. Well, I know the chamber is here, that’s all.”

“Okay, help me find a door or something that could seem like an entrance of some kind.”

“Accio chamber!” Draco waved his wand in an attempt to find it.

“Are you pulling my leg right now?”

“Had to try.”

They kept looking for over twenty minutes and nothing seemed to work or appear.

“How did Harry and Ron find it when they were twelve?” asked Y/N.

“Beginner’s luck, I guess.”

“They asked me.” A girly voice echoed in the bathroom.

“Who’s that?” you asked, aimlessly pointing your wand in case of danger.

A girl-like ghost appeared from one of the cubicles. She looked quite young.

“It’s me, Myrtle. Because you have flesh and blood you think you’re better than me, huh?” the ghost became aggressive. In a flash, she got really close to Y/N.

“I didn’t say any of that.”

“You were thinking it.”

“Do you know where the entrance of the chamber of secrets is?” intercepted Draco.

“I might.”

“Can you tell us where?” Y/N asked.

“I could, but I won’t.”

“Please, Myrtle” said Draco in a soft voice.

Myrtle softened her expression and giggled.

“I’ll tell it to you, handsome,” she said.

Y/N ignored her comment and followed her.

“It’s here,” she pointed a sink, “you must speak the snake language to open it. Do you know it?”

“You do, Y/N,” said Draco.

Y/N didn’t even know she could speak it until that very day. She focused saying “open”. It sounded English.

“I don’t think I can-”

All of a sudden, the sink decomposed itself, each piece of it opening, revealing a hole.

“Wow,” Draco exclaimed.

“I said open, it sounded English.”

“English? You spoke some odd words, Riddle.”

“Riddle?!” Myrtle exclaimed. “As Tom Riddle?!”

“Thanks Myrtle.” Y/N went down the hole without thinking twice. Draco followed her.

It was all dusty and humid, but only rocks could be foreseen. The two of them started to walk straight.

“You know, your daddy killed her.” Draco said.

“What?” Y/N replied, shocked.

“She’s a mudblood. When he opened the chamber, there was a beast inside. A basilic. One of the victims of it was Myrtle.”

“Because of her blood?”

“Of course. Why would it be for? She brought it to herself.”

Y/N didn’t reply not really knowing how she was standing on the matter.

They arrived at a door that had engraved an odd, antic face with a snake circling it. Y/N spoke parsel and the snake started to move, opening the door.

Once inside, the chamber of secrets resembled a majestic corridor, with snake statues at both sides. At the end of the corridor, a bearded face engravement.

They walked towards the corridor arriving at the face.

“Look,” said Y/N, “that’s it.”

A green emerald’s flicker was shining in of the eyes of the face.

“Brilliant,” whispered Draco, “and we grab it, just like that?”

“No. There’s something that happens when we touch it.”

“What is it?”

“Father just told me to be careful when taking it because it shows you what you most desire. You see, if you want to destroy it, your worst fear will appear in front of your eyes, and you have to face it. When you want to keep it safe, it shows you what you most desire, and you have to stop yourself from succumbing to it.”

“Well, what is it that you most desire?” Draco asked, curious.

Y/N looked at the locket and sighed. “I guess we’ll just find out.”

She started hiking on the face. When she got to the top, she waited a few seconds and then grabbed with her bare hand the locket. She fell down the rock, a gigantic dark smoke appeared in front of them.

“Y/N, you alrig-”

“Y/N, that night, when we were staring at the stars in the Astronomy Tower, I didn’t have the guts to tell you but, I love you. I have been in love with you since we were kids.”

Draco was shocked, looking at himself saying those things in the dark smoke. Y/N was laying on the floor, expectant to the scene.

Draco in the smoke started undressing Y/N. He lifted her shirt while she lifted his. Draco started kissing her like an animal, she was moaning, receptive to the contact. One of his hands got beneath her bra and started to take it off.

“Stop, please stop,” said Y/N, looking at Draco who was seriously looking at the scene.

A disgust made its way to his face.

“Make love to me, Draco. Please.”

“Stop!”

Y/N grabbed the locket and shouted. “I don’t want it!”.

The smoke vanished. The locket was held in her hand, still shaking and bloody from the scene and the falling.

She looked over at Draco. He couldn’t look at her. After all that time, that’s how he found out.

part four

#draco malfoy fanfiction #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy x y/n #draco malfoy smut #draco malfoy fluff #draco malfoy x y/n riddle #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter imagine #hogwarts imagine

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fox-bright · 2 months ago

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apologies if you get asked about advice often. what advice would you have for a 19yo moving half across the country (with partner) and starting adult life?

Bearing in mind that I'm on day eight...nine? of a migraine? And so might be less coherent than is usual for me?

When I was nineteen I left the country for a summer, and then as soon as I could--which was the following year--I went back to stay as long as I could, with a guy who wasn't very good for me, but who provided an escape route from a desperately sad and abusive situation. While I returned to the US, I have not been back to my home state to stay again, and that was more than twenty years ago now. I don't recommend that way out, but it was a way out. I hope very much that you are making the decision under no duress, and not as an act of flight. I hope it is joyful and strengthening, and exciting and good.

At nineteen you are just barely on the cusp of adult life. It's such a strange time! You haven't yet been equipped with a lot of the knowledge that you'll need to navigate your solid future, but you've got all these expectations laid on your shoulders to suddenly be Grown Up. You can die for your country, but you can't rent a car. You can get a 200k university loan, but in the US you can't have a legal drink.

So a lot of what I would recommend is--don't rush. Be as sure of your footing as you can before you make decisions that you know in advance will be life-altering. You'll be making enough decisions that you don't know are going to change you forever, you want to be steady with the ones that you're pretty sure will cause big shifts.

(But when you see something that fills you with certainty, go for it.)

Power imbalances are frequent and natural when you're in a relationship at that age, because mental and emotional growth spurts can be very quick. This can leave you out of balance with a partner. Sometimes it's recoverable, and the one that is lagging a little bit will catch up! Sometimes the distance grows too great. Let what happens, happen, in that respect. Don't hold yourself back for your partner. Grow at your own rate. If your partner outstrips you, it's good to stretch for growth, but it's self-destructive to overreach. Not to be doom-and-gloom about it, but it's very rare that the person you're with at nineteen will be the person you're with at ninety; gratitude for the time you have and open hands that do not clutch are important in any relationship, but *very* important when you're young.

And then sometimes, you are still with that person decades later, so--treating them with respect, and only accepting respectful treatment from a partner, is very, very important. Love is huge! Love is incredible! But a good relationship is like a three-legged stool, and love is only one leg of it. Respect is another, and effort is the third. If you don't love someone, but you respect the hell out of them and put in a lot of effort to make life with them good, that's a working relationship, and what one should strive for as a divorced parent; if you love someone and work hard but don't respect them, that's patronizing and destructive to them and to the self, and no relationship like that can weather real storms. If you respect them and love them but don't work hard (very, very common), then you become a millstone around their neck, leaving all the effort for them to make. You need to give all three, and you should only accept a relationship where you get all three. There will be lulls, times when one person must work harder than the other, or when one person is so stressed that they get a bit distracted. Nothing is on an even keel without trials forever. But in general, there needs to be a balance.

When you get to where you're going, naturally you will be spending a lot of time together. Whether your partner is from that place and you're joining them, or it's new for both of you, its newness to you will mean that you don't have the social safety net that you might have in the place you're moving from. So you have to work to build it! Some of that will involve meeting their friends and integrating into that group, but it is very important to make connections that don't have anything to do with them. Don't stop partaking of hobbies that are Just Yours, don't give up the things you do alone. Even if you're the kind of people who can healthily live in each other's pockets 99% of the time (and most people aren't!), it's beneficial for you to have people to talk to that aren't your partner. Not for secret-keeping, not so that you can vent about them (though sometimes that might be necessary) but simply because you have social and conversational needs that they wouldn't fill, and so do they to you. Sometimes you need to take a few hours apart so that whatever minor irritations are sensitizing you today can shrink back to their usual unimpressive size, too. You're not abandoning them, and they're not abandoning you, if there needs to be a personal day. (I adore my partner. He's absolutely steady, and we share nearly all of our interests. But not all of them. He does one martial art, I do another, and so we find commonality between them--but I don't do archery, and he isn't a baker, and so on. It's exciting to get to introduce him to something new, and it's necessary for me to have something I don't have to share. If he started being out of the house late all the time, generally ignoring me, putting the lion's share of his energy elsewhere, or if I started feeling like I wanted to be apart from him more than I want to be with him, we'd have to have a talk. But it's important to remain two people, complete unto themselves.)

A lot of the other general advice you might get, you for certain know already. If you will choose to have children, don't start reproducing yet if you can hold off for another five years or so, so that they are born into a situation of strength and protection. Don't get a big car loan or get locked into payments for physical objects that are going to devalue really quickly; don't move to the trendiest neighborhood if you can't easily and comfortably afford it, it's better to live somewhere a bit cheaper but still safe, and save what money you can; don't take up a drug habit with anything addictive, some of the brightest lights I've ever known died before they hit 30 because they got into meth or cocaine or some weird shit whose designation is a handful of mixed numbers and letters.

Try as much as you can. Weird food, musical instruments, dance class at the odd corner gym, craft you've never considered before, pickup game of volleyball, if you see the opportunity to do something you haven't before, TAKE it. Say "yes" frequently even if you're unsure if you'd enjoy whatever experience it is--trust your gut, but if it's just social uncertainty or wariness because it's new, try it! You're in the most flexible time of your life right now, your rubber-band self is at its stretchiest not just physically but mentally and emotionally, and the more stretching you do now, the less vulnerable and brittle you'll be later.

#asks answered

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the-illiterate-pirate · 1 year ago

Text

4k words of drunk Anasui baby!!!! I don't have much to say so let's get in to it

I'm trying something different. What do y'all think about the header? Looks good, yeah, yeah??

Dancing with a Stranger

Notes: SFW, hurt/comfort?, starts off a little sad, a lot of talk about Anasui feeling like the gang does care about him :(, fem!reader, drinking, needy Ana, literally sleeping with a stranger, dw you take good care of him and you get breakfast, this is less romantic pairing and more you playing babysitter

Btw dividers used below are not mine, credit goes to @/cafekitsune, big fan of their work!

It was happening again. Anasui could feel the atmosphere change around him at the drop of a drink. All at once the noise of that dingy bar he was in became so hard to ignore. Who knew that such a tiny building could hold so much noise.

They were supposed to be there together, drinking away the week's stress from work, studies, and tests. And Anasui had the pleasure to watch the only four people he cared about leave, two at a time. Jolyne was getting hyper. By the time Hermes was able to wrestle her out the door she had her knee on a neighboring table, trying to pick a fight with a guy twice her size that she deemed was too loud. Hermes had apologized, leaving both their half of the bill while she took Jolyne to their car.

Following a little after, Foo Fighters needed to be taken home, too. Always the lightweight. They were never good at holding their alcohol. Their face was about the same shade of green as their hair by the time Weather decided to drive them home.

And that left Anasui, rotting, left alone with nothing but his thoughts. Something he didn't like. He was sure he heard Weather speak softly to him. A gentle, "will you be okay by yourself?" Anasui wasn't sure if he responded coherently. Or if he just kept staring at the peeling booth in front of him, realization of what was happening slowly starting to sink in.

And the bar became too loud. His little bubble of security was popped, being flooded by all of those negative thoughts and ideas once again like a punctured submarine. And there Anasui sat, in a far off corner of the building in a booth seat alone, with only his iced down liquor to console him. He loved his friends, he loved them deeply, even more than his own self. But he hated the feelings they left him with to fight alone. A dark, deep set hunger he wasn't sure how to satisfy. A painful panging in his chest for something more. It made it all the more tempting to find something to feed his humiliating ticks.

He was alone now, depressive thoughts slowly circling and constricting his alcohol ladened mind, like how his finger followed the rim of his glass. Tonight was the last day he had to enjoy his time with friends. By the time the sun rose tomorrow morning, the girls would all be busy with school, whereas Weather Report and Foo Fighters would go on with work. Leaving him to drown in more school work with other idiots who classified him as a human garbage fire. It'd be another seven days until he could wrap himself in the embrace of his friends once more and forget everything for a short while. But now, he was left to shiver in the cold leather booth that stuck to his bare skin.

Anasui decided one more drink wouldn't hurt. Or two. Maybe three.

You weren't Anasui's original target. Simply put you were stuck in the crossfire between him and a friend, playing shield to a man cowering under the woman's menacing fist.

You just got out of the bathroom.

"It is way too late for this." You exhaled noisily. After pinching the bridge of your nose you took a once over of your damsel in distress. He looked familiar, and pathetic, as the only regular you knew that wore so much fishnet, plus the hot pink hair was a dead giveaway. Normally you'd see him every Saturday night in a group of five. Your friends usually left before they did, but tonight flew a little south. One of your girlfriends was hitting a lucky streak with the pretty bartender, it took an extra hour for her to seduce them into giving her free drinks and a ride home. That left you, two drunks to babysit, and the other designated driver. Oh, and the koala glued to your back.

"What did he even do?"

"Asshole tried to grope me!" Helena shouted, pointing an accusing finger at behind your back. "Called me by some other chick's name and threw himself at me! Do you know this guy?!"

"Hela, don't you think it's obvious this guy is drunk? He must've thought you were someone else!" You were already over this. But no one was going home until everything was settled.

Come to think of it, you have seen this guy with a girl before. Black locks, tan skin. From a distance, you could see where he was coming from. Being drunk probably didn't help either. "Huh. You kinda do look like her." You confirmed with a tilt of your head, eyeing her hair.

"Yer agreeing with this dick?! So you do know him!" You groaned in frustration.

Helena wasn't going to quit without an apology. That was how she rolled. You really needed to quit giving the angry drunk liquor... Or keep her confined to her apartment.

Luckily for you Stacy was there to calm her down. After a painfully slurred apology from the man in mesh, it was deemed good enough. Although barely. Helana's designated driver hauled her out to the car, you and your other friend following outside. She was still sipping away on a bright blue fruity drink, watching the show in the car go down.

You looked between her and your new "friend". Definitely not fit to stay here by himself. Now he was leaning on you for support, swaying on his feet, shivering. Jeez, curse your bleeding heart. You couldn't leave him like this.

Roxanne felt your gaze, slurping down the final gulp of her drink before turning to you. "What are you thinking 'bout, baby driver?"

You took a deep breath. "Rox, I know this is gonna sound crazy, but would you mind staying with Stacy and Hela tonight? I wanna stick around and help this oaf."

"Oooohh," Roxanne wiggled her eyebrows, slurping down the nothing in her cup and making an annoying noise. "I can do it, but I didn't think you were the type to pick up boys at a place like this."

"Not a chance. I just wanna help this guy get home."

"Suuure," Her bright blue eyes rolled back in her head. She dropped the glass at the door of the bar, before sauntering to the car with her other two friends acting giggly. Stacy didn't seem to mind. the five of you were always sleeping over at each other's abodes. Most of the time it was to your house because you were the only one that didn't have to worry about neighbors. You had already finished college, found a great job and made the big bucks. You were the team's honorary sugar momma.

Speaking of... You didn't think you saw any of them pay for the tab. Damnit. That left you to do it.

"Those..."

You waved your friends goodbye, a pleasant but forced smile on your lips while Roxanne waved back, riding off back to Helena and Stacy's campus.

"Bitches." You finished strong once their car disappeared. You sighed.. Whatever, you'll get back at them. Somehow.

From behind you, the drunk hiccuped, taking you out of your revenge fantasies. He was nuzzled into your collar, appreciating the feel of your shirt. It would've been cute, if he was. I don't know. A child.

Wait. Right. Finding this guy's owners.

"Okay man, let's find your friends." You huddled back into the bar, first paying off your friend's tab, second scanning the tables and the booths for any faces that wrung any bells.

"Hey. Hey, pinky. Where did you and your friend's sit?" It was worth a shot. Luckily, it worked, the guy pointed a weak finger at the corner of the room with a booth. But the booth was empty, already cleaned, no glasses or plates or anything.

"What the..?" You turned around, lightly gripping his shoulders to make him look you in the eye. "Hey, listen. What's up? Did your friends already leave, or-?"

"They left." He confirmed with a sniffle. "They left already. Without me. I'm...."

Like it finally hit him what happened, he froze. Tears began to show in his eyes as he gripped tighter on to your cardigan. "I'm all alone."

"Oh! Oh, jeez, okay," He practically threw himself at you, silently shaking. His sighs vibrated against your neck as he tried to find his breath. "I don't wanna be alone anymore. Please... Please don't leave me..."

No. Were you actually thinking about taking this stranger to your house? What were the odds that this guy was some insane murderer, and this was all some elaborate plan? Looking down at him right now, he didn't seem vicious. Just very, very... sad. He was acting like a lost puppy.

God. You were actually going through with this.

Tab paid. Dog man in toe. You walked back outside to your car. You had his arm slung around your shoulder to lead him to the vehicle faster. He was still mumbling incoherently, but at least he wasn't crying anymore. You weren't sure your poor heart could handle it. "Hey, real quick, can you tell me your name?"

You finally got him into the passenger seat. Immediately he curled himself into a little ball, shivering from the surprisingly cool summer air. Then again, he was only wearing mesh, that was probably why. "It's Anasui." You heard him whisper, huddling closer. You paused, before shouldering off your cardigan, throwing it over his arms. You gave him your name.

"Listen Anasui. I'm taking you to my house. After you get some sleep and sober up I can take you back to your place. Does that sound okay?" You paused again, then added softly, "I'm not gonna leave you alone tonight, alright?"

He sniffled. "Alright."

Great.

Then you were off. The drive home was a little uncomfortable. The silence was deafening, and there wasn't anything good on the radio this late at night.

"Damnit..." You gave up, staying on a station playing early 2000's hits with the volume on low. Not exactly your cup of tea, but Anasui seemed to take interest in it. You didn't know what song was playing. It was some sort of pop, but on the slower side. Anasui sounded like he knew the song by heart. He mouthed gibberish into his headrest, eyes closed, fingers lightly tapping the beat. It was kind of sweet, even if you couldn't understand a word he was saying. But the thought immediately turned sour as you were reminded that this Anasui guy was just drunk, and you'd just found him alone at a bar. "Tch, I can't believe your friends would just abandon you like that." You remark offhandedly, not expecting any response. You're surprised when you do get one.

"They didn't leave me drunk." Anasui sighed, burrowing his face deeper into the fabric of his seat. "Leas' I was sober when they left."

"So why did you start to drink more? Why not leave? That's so..." You didn't want to scold a grown man. "...That sounds very irresponsible."

"I know." He mourns. "I was'n thinkin'. I'm so stupid."

You've finally stopped the car in the driveway up to your house. It was a nice house. You were proud of it. Anasui seemed to think so, too. You get out, swiftly making it over to his side and opening his car door. "You're not stupid," You assured him, waiting for the man bundled in cotton to unbuckle his seatbelt. "Some people just make some bad decisions. Look at me and you, we're still young, it's bound to happen."

Anasui was able to get out without help, still clutching to your cardigan like a lifeline. The same couldn't be said for the walk up to your porch. "Besides. Sometimes we just need some help getting through a rough patch. I can't blame you for that."

You unlock the front door. The house was deep black inside. You didn't think to leave any lights on. Not that it mattered, your eyes had already adapted to the night, Anasui behind you would probably get sick if you turned them on now. And you knew your house like the back of your hand.

Unfortunately. Anasui didn't.

"Ow!"

"Sorry! The door leads to the dining room. Just follow behind me, I'll try not to let you bump into anything else." Try was the key word.

You praised your past self for choosing the room on the bottom floor as your own. Upstairs was the guest room, and you didn't feel like lugging Mr. Tipsy up the stairs. He would be okay in yours for a night.

You liked your room a whole lot. Maybe you splurged a little more than you should have after you moved in, but your teen self would've been so happy. And the best part? Dimmer switch.

The room was illuminated by the warm lights in the ceiling, but only the softest glow that allowed you to see under your feet and the scattered posters on the farthest wall. You deposited Anasui on your bed, before moving to your dresser, pushing past your favorite shirts and others you couldn't remember wearing in the past year. You seriously needed to throw them out. But for sentimentalities sake, you couldn't bring yourself to.

A white shirt caught your attention. An old, extra large Van Halen shirt you got for your last birthday as a last ditch attempt for a gift, with the "Panama" cherub on the front with his cigarettes. You liked it enough, even if it was a little big. You just needed something that could fit the redhead on your bed, because surely those fishnets were not comfortable at all.

He looked about ready to conk out, as he was barely holding on by the time you came back. The cardigan was placed delicately to the side as he swayed in place. Looking very, very sleepy. "Here's this. You don't need to strip if you don't want to, but I thought you'd appreciate it better than that mesh crap." You offered him the shirt, explaining the deal. You weren't even halfway through with your last sentence before Anasui began to peel off his skimpy outfit and his hat-thing, you watched in a mixture of shock and impress at how easy it was, to both strip with an audience, and just in general. You weren't sure if you could've pulled it off so easily.

"...Right. I'll be back, I'm just gonna get you some makeup wipes real quick," You had to peel your eyes away from his physique. He was godly. He was able to keep that lean figure without sacrificing the muscles, incredible!

But no! You mustn't let your mind wander. Anasui was drunk and sad, the last thing he needed was some stranger ogling his muscles.

You found those makeup wipes, along with some Advil and two sips of water for you and your new friend. This whole fiasco as well as the headache from babysitting Helena and Roxxy wasn't helping you focus.

When you got back, Anasui's mesh was at the foot of his bed, with him huddled underneath your thick and very pale comforter. Two totally different alarms started buzzing in your head. The one warning you of expensive makeup staining your sheets, another making the painfully clear observation of the skirt and go-go boots next to Anasui's outfit. His lower half was underneath the covers, you prayed he was wearing something underneath.

"H-Hey! You aren't off the hook yet, sit up so I can clean your face!" Anasui complained with an outraged moan, but he got up anyway. He took his medicine while you prepared the wipes for his face.

You took him into a gentle hold under his chin, beginning at the mascara that stained his pretty cheeks. The way he held eye contact the whole time unnerved you slightly, put you powered on, tossing the old wipe to the side to get a new one for his lips. The lipstick stained his mouth a pretty shade of pink. You leaned back to get a good look at your work. He looked a lot better without the makeup, his natural beauty taking you by surprise. Maybe the dim lights wouldn't see you blush. Hopefully.

There was a light pause. This time, it was Anasui getting embarrassed by the attention. He looked to his lap, and the hands he rested there.

"Do.... Do you think my friends hate me?"

You tossed the used wipes away, looking back at the man to answer truthfully. "I don't think they do." You moved back to the bed, "But, I do think they don't understand what's going on in that head of yours. I don't think they knew leaving you alone was gonna do... this to you."

You were interrupted by Anasui propping his head on your stomach. He was affectionate like a cat, hands wrapping around your waist. Subconsciously your hand went up to brush through his hair. Tonight was full of firsts, why stop now.

"You should try to talk to them about it, I'm sure they'll understand."

"And what if I was right, and they leave me if I told them?" It felt weird to have him talk against your stomach.

"Then they aren't real friends, are they? Anyway, I'm sure that's just your head lying to you." You couldn't get over how insane his hair was. It was silky soft, without any tangles. You were adult enough to admit you were jealous. "And on the tiniest, minute off chance I'm wrong, you could hang out with me and the girls! I promise Helena is super cool when we aren't out drinking." He didn't talk back immediately, and instead of agreeing he asked, "You're not leaving, are you?"

"Well, I was expecting to sleep upstairs and give you your privacy," You sighed, beginning to think that was just wishful thinking. Anasui finally looked up at you, violet irises sparkling like puppy eyes. "Stay here with me, please?" You echoed back the same groan he made previously, but you guess deep down, you really didn't mind. You just wanted the guy to feel better. Plus, you were tired, and ready to have this night end. "Fine. Just let me change in the bathroom quick, then I'll get in bed."

By the time you got out again, he was already dozing off in the covers. Again, you were envious of his skill to fall asleep so quickly.

You got an extra cover, not chancing sharing one with him, whether he was half naked or just a blanket hog. The room was extra cold, so you made sure to get a big one. You could finally get into bed, your sore muscles immediately relaxing into the mattress. In the blink of an eye, Anasui sensed the new presence, quickly sliding over to mooch off of your body heat. You've officially given up, allowing him to stay close. He smelled good, at least, and it felt nice to cuddle. Maybe it was wrong to admit to liking sharing your bed with a stranger, but you couldn't say no to Ana. Maybe in the near future he wouldn't be a stranger, maybe this didn't need to be a one time thing. You weren't in love with this guy, not by a long shot. He was emotional and clingy. But maybe you could grow to like him more. And if you didn't start to develop those feelings, maybe he could stick around as a new buddy? Maybe keep this one away from the juice, though.

Anasui woke up the next morning alone, in a bedroom he didn't recognize. He was scared for a second, but he got to calming back down quick. He didn't feel sticky, or gross. He was clothed, well, for the most part. Nothing hurt aside from his splitting head and his empty stomach. The smell of cooking food didn't help it at all.

He looked around. The new morning light lit up the place in warm oranges and yellows. There were clothes scattered around the floor, metal and classic rock posters on the wall next to the big window, the two dressers in the room were covered with carelessly placed books and knick knacks and trinkets that didn't go together. Was he picked up by a teenager?

The door opened, Anasui threw his covers over himself in surprise. He recognized your pretty face. Speckled with a drunken haze that gave you a glow like a halo. Imagining you seeing him in such a state made his cheeks hot, but he tried to ignore it.

"Morning!" You chirped. "How're you feeling?"

Bad. Anasui wanted to say. "Sober." He said instead. At the same time his head throbbed, and Anasui grabbed at his crown, groaning in pain. He changed his mind. "And bad. Everything hurts."

You nodded, "I'll go get you some pain meds, one sec."

He took the two pills gratefully once you came back, along with a cold water bottle that tasted like the nectar of the gods. "Thank you." He said. After a pause he added, "I wasn't too much trouble last night, was I?"

"No way," You giggled. "It's nothing I haven't had to deal with before."

Memories started to trickle in to Anasui. Memories of watching Hermes leave, then Jolyne, then Weather, and Foo Fighters, the memory of him clinging on to a stranger's back sobbing like a loser. Come to think of it, that stranger was probably standing in front of him right now.

The cringe on his face was probably obvious, if the obnoxious laugh you let out was anything to tell by. "Hey, we don't have to talk about last night if you don't want to. I've got breakfast ready in the kitchen. Wanna join?"

The promise of food, maybe bacon and eggs, made Anasui's mouth water. You smirked slightly. "Just put your skirt back on, I'll meet you in the dining room pretty boy." And you left without another word. The little comment made his heart flutter in a weird way. Anasui didn't think little pet names on his appearance would make him feel so light in his chest, but you've proved him wrong.

He put his lace back on, along with the boots and his skirt. But he wanted to keep wearing the Van Halen shirt. What a stupid little thing to get excited over, sharing similar taste in music, but he couldn't help himself.

Your house was much more tidy than your room. It was cozy, and Anasui liked it a lot. He found you setting two plates down, piled high with breakfast food with two glasses of orange drinks. You settled at the table in your seat, looking proud of yourself, "Eat up, afterwards we can drive back to your place. Or go back to the bar, if you have a vehicle."

"Thank you. For everything." His fork poked at some eggs. They were bright yellow, fresh. Anasui had never seen yolks so bright in his life. "I can't remember the last time I had an actual breakfast."

Your smile faltered a little bit at his tone of voice. "It's no worries. Don't beat yourself up over it, I would've done all this for anyone."

"Thinking like that could get you hurt." He muttered rather darkly. You snorted in response. Most of your conversation with him was like that for the rest of breakfast. He was much more mature sober, you appreciated that. Made him much more appealing. He was a little more haughty too, though. Any sarcastic comeback was met with more sarcasm, though sometimes you'd say something that would make Anasui stop and look away. Like the shirt.

It was after he helped clean your dishes. You walked him out to your car, swinging your keys around your pointer while Anasui shielded himself away from the sun like a vampire. He stopped you before you'd completely gotten into your car. He was about to pull off your shirt before you stopped him.

"Keep it." You told him.

"Are you sure?" He asked.

"Yeah. Why not? You can give it back next Saturday, after you clean off the drool and makeup." He raised an eyebrow.

"So, this won't be the last time we talk?" You laughed, unlocking the car and getting in. "Shoot, no. We go to the same bar every weekend, I see you every time! Me and my girls will crash your friend's little get together next Saturday, to pay back your babysitting fee."

It was meant as more sarcasm, but the thought of getting to see you again made Anasui's heart jump again. You pulled out of the driveway, leaving back to the bar like Anasui asked. In secret without you seeing it, he enjoyed the smell of your cologne on the fabric of the shirt he wore. It partnered well with his own. He couldn't wait for next week.

#jojo no kimyou na bouken #jjba #stone ocean #narciso anasui #narciso anasui x reader #The Pirate Writes | JJBA #NEW TAG MAYBE? IT'S NOT TOO LATE FOR THOSE RIGHT?#jjba x reader

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scarlet--wiccan · 2 months ago

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Since you play the sims… Do you have any coherent thoughts on like, the sims 4 from a Romani perspective? I know the earlier games had some pretty bad racism (npc called g slur like it’s their job; living in vardos) but I do feel like it uses sort of Romani aesthetics (both more realistic ways and stereotypical) in a lot of places

They’re probably adding tarot to the game next month (which isn’t exactly exclusively Romani) but it is one of those things that is like, very linked to Romani stereotypes (similar with the ghost pack with the crystal ball etc). I doubt I’m articulating myself well, I apologize. I was wondering if you had any thoughts about this or if I’m just being oversensitive

I have far less experience with the Sims franchise than you might be thinking. I didn't play any of the games growing up, and I didn't start playing The Sims 4 until some time last year. And to be honest, I don't even play it that often-- I really like the character creation and building houses and stuff, but I don't do much actual gameplay, so there's a lot of material that I just haven't encountered.

I am aware that so-called "gypsies" were a recurring element in previous installments-- it seems like they mostly show up as NPCs in historical or fantasy-inspired settings, and they usually operate as matchmakers or fortunetellers. Although such caricatures are fortunately absent from TS4, "boho" is an established decor category in Dream Home Decorator, and similar aesthetics, along with fortune-telling related items, can be found in downloadable content such as the Paranormal Stuff Pack. It's hard to divorce that sort of thing from Romani stereotypes or exploitation, even when it is reduced to little more than a cosmetic detail. This week, EA put out a tarot-inspired teaser video for some upcoming DLC-- I don't know if any of the actual content will be related to fortune-telling, but this sort of thing is really, really common during the Halloween season. You kinda can't avoid it.

How do I feel about it? These tropes and stereotypes are omnipresent in American media. I would be shocked if a franchise that's been around as long as The Sims didn't have racially-insensitive fortune-teller characters at some point, and speaking as someone who runs a Marvel Comics blog, I think I'd a be a hypocrite if I tried to condemn them for it. One of my main goals has always been to give people the tools to recognize anti-Romani racism in art and media, and to determine how to best discuss and engage with that material moving forward. Being able to call out earlier entries, and have sensitivity to where certain aesthetics come from and how you use them in your own gameplay is a good start. Unless the developers decide to bring back overtly racist characters, like those in previous entries, I'm not going to spend my time and energy accusing The Sims 4 of anti-Romani bigotry.

Part of this detached perspective comes from the fact that TS4 is literally free to play. You can choose to purchase DLC, but you're not obligated to, and most players use mods and custom content made by independent creators. So, in my mind, the game is sort of an open market, and I spend a lot more time engaging with individual creators and their content than the actual developers. If I was actually active in the Sims community, a lot of my critique and awareness-spreading would probably be directed towards players and modders, rather than the contents of the base game.

On a related note-- boycott Overwolf and CurseForge, and any modders who are still using them!

#the sims 4 #sims tag

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klebald · 5 days ago

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I agree. I appreciate your wishes/gen. I'm sure she did as well, but we'll see. I agree - the world does suck. I apologize for misunderstanding.

the seven have went to.. 11? I think? I can't remember. along with an ungodly amount of airplane shots. my tolerance is rather high - I've been drinking since around 12 years old, so thats.. about two and a half years. Mike's are wonderful. I would also drink a whole case if I was given the opportunity. I am also good at that. my auto correct is working overtime currently, I apologize if things I say don't make sense. Floppy says hello : ). I enjoy talking ti you, though it is sort of nerve wracking. you are a lot more popular, so I feel odd. feel like a dog. me ⬇️

I am sorry for my lateness to this, the buzz is inevitably gone by now. :-( There are many more well wishes to come, I assure you! Klebald can be somewhat nice, time to time. Heheh. You have not a thing to apologize for, either. 11 beers, "some vodka" and an ungodly amount of airplane shots, in your words, sounds like an evening of a lifetime. Share next time, pretty please? I will drink nearly anything. Substance abuse is close to the most fun somebody can have. Not that I am biased, or anything. Two and a half years of drinking is absurd to me, coming from somebody who only really began "drinking" a year and a half ago. The first time that I had touched alcohol, I was thirteen, and it was wine. I was sleezy and moronic while only barely tipsy, and it was incredibly anticlimactic and embarrassing to see a barely teenage boy yelling about being "so fucked up" at 10 P.M. You started much earlier than me, and you are also younger than I had anticipated! What a surprise. The Mike's were raspberry flavored and a balding hispanic man bought them for me with my money, I didn't enjoy them as much seeing that I don't care for lemonade, and I really do try and stay away from fruity alcohol, I was just making an attempt at ridding of them before I wasn't the only one in the house. My preference lies in whether I can taste the liquor or not, next time, I will trade you the Mike's. Good on you for coming off as 90% coherent, you are better than I am at that, even when my autocorrect has to do the job for me. The enjoyment is mutual, you are a fun person with a good amount of insight, one who happens to have a similar amount as myself to say. Let your nerves unwrack themselves! I am not a celebrity, I'm the guy who shows up on the red carpet claiming "everybody here knows my name". Less of a dog, more of a cat. Dogs are not my thing, I don't willfully lure them into my inbox as I do you. You are... 🐈 This. I hope you have had a nicer day today, and that your hangover isn't too bad, if you get hungover. I don't, usually. I am not sure if you have school tomorrow, but, I do not, long weekend!

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batsarebetterthanpeople · 1 year ago

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blorbo question: what kinds of drugs do you think ed would be into? which ones would help him and which ones would make him feel worse?

Ok so I project onto Ed so this might be colored by my own drug experiences, but I'll do my best. I'll tell you generally what I think he'd like and the I'll put up a cut and go through all the ones I've done and tell you how I think Ed would be on them.

General before I get into specifics. Canonically he uses stimulants during the Kraken era and weed socially. However I do kinda feel like Rhino Horn is not his favorite drug just the most manageable way to get a hit of endorphins while also being able to oversee raids so he can break Ned Lowe's record. I am biased because I'm a psychedelic enjoyer, but Ed's a pretty confident guy who doesn't really second guess himself until after he acts (lbr the man did not second guess fucking knife parade for like multiple years and he doesn't apologize). Of course he also hates himself but I don't think that makes him not confident, which being confident and not immediately second guessing yourself is a great personality for producing good hallucinogenic experiences. Hallucinogens are usually great if you're not afraid of them. And I also think that Ed wants to be taken out of his life for a little bit and hallucinogens are conducive to that. I think he and Jack probably did a bit of P&P back in the day and I think ecstasy was probably their favorite because Jack is a tweaker and Ed is a psychedelics guy. Now that he and Stede are together he's doing poppers.

Onto specifics. What makes him better, what makes him worse

Ok here's the drugs I have experience with: Meth, Mushrooms, Weed, Coke, LSD, GHB, and DMT. So I'll just give you those.

Let's start with coke and weed because we have canon evidence for those.

Cocaine Rhino Horn- ok so for me personally coke kinda ain't shit. It's the best stimulant by far (ecstasy is a stimulant/hallucinogen so I'm not counting it because it's also something else) but it's still just sort of me but faster. I've said many a time that Coke is my ADHD meds but horny and Meth is like my ADHD meds but evil. I can drive on the shit literally better than I drive sober because I am less distracted. And before someone accuses me of micro dosing I can pack the shit away, I do twice as much as whoever I'm with and get half as high, every ounce of coke ive ever done was waisted on me. I have fun on it it's not a bad feeling but I it's like if coffee was poppers rather than a real drug. I think Ed probably has a similar experience here with being relatively coherent because we see him doing raids while high on the stuff. I think coke is giving him that little euphoria bump he needs to be passively suicidal instead of actively suicidal and not much else. That said once I did like three lines and then went to the wrong bus station subsequently missing my bus (I ordered my Uber before doing the coke so it was not the coke's fault) and I had a tantrum but I did not cry or start doom spiraling over the 200$ I was forced to pay, so I'm gonna go with a tentative better? For how coke makes Ed.

Weed- Ed also displays a high tolerance here, given that he shares a blunt with Mary and then he's sober in the next scene. That being said I think if he had more than half a blunt he would get emotional very quickly. If he's in a good mood he gets clingy and everyone around him is his favorite person and if he's in a bad mood he starts crying. Weed would make him worse and I know this about him

Meth- Tina is my enemy I hate her. They told me it was highly addictive and would make you crazy and then it just gave me insomnia and a weird bowl movement. Did you know while on meth you don't get hungry but you do get hangry? You can't sleep you can't eat but your body doesn't stop needing to eat and sleep. I've done meth exactly twice and once was on accident (the idiot I smoked shrooms with didn't clean his fucking pipe and I did not realize I had imbibed methamphetamine until about 24 hours later when I had been trying and failing to sleep for roughly 10 hours). Anyway I think given how hangry Ed gets meth would make him worse in every conceivable way. Meth also makes me more focused so I think he would invent some diabolical scheme and it would be a genuinely good one and then he would also lose his fucking mind and pulverize the next thing to surprise him after not eating for 18 hours (imagine the snake scene from 1x07 but on... Well on meth I guess) and cry because he is so so tired.

GHB- for those of you not in the know this is a depressant but not an opioid that is sometimes used as a daterape drug because it's got an incredibly dangerous interaction with alcohol but is mostly manageable on its own. It's not entirely dissimilar to high doses of alcohol in its high ill be honest, but maybe I just haven't had enough depressants to be able to tease apart their distinct personalities. I enjoyed this one but I think I'm gonna let my experience diverge from Ed's a little bit here. I don't think he would be a fan. He might be alright with it if he and Stede were doing it together as a sexual aid, but it tastes really bad, like putting bitterant directly into your mouth levels of bad, and we know Ed is a sweet tooth. The poor old man would also get tired on it a lot quicker than I did, and I remember laying there like I was asleep with a pleasant buzz in my brain and not really wanting to get up for quite a bit of it.

DMT- So dmt isn't good unless you're doing a near death experience type breakthrough trip otherwise you see some fun colors for 20 minutes and then it's over. I cannot speak to the breakthrough trip because I did it with a Grindr date and I did not want to be at his mercy for a half an hour while I was experiencing The Tunnel. However from what I've heard of the breakthrough trip, that shit is a mental game. You don't want to do that third rip but you've gotta. Ed loves to win at games and he's got some mental fortitude so I think he would flex how much he likes DMT. It would make him WORSE

LSD- I love her everyone loves her Lucy is my best friend. She's a bit... Lovecraftian but certainly not in a bad way. I think acid would really depend where Ed was at mentally. Like Ed when Stede is around would have a good time taking to the universe. I think that talking to the universe during the Kraken era could go really well or really really horrendously. On the one hand I wonder if ego death might actually be good for him? Like feeling like you're one with everything and like you aren't real could be either freeing for a guy who hates himself that much or it could end up making him hate everything because his self hatred could get as expensive as his dissolving ego. I think immediately pre Stede however acid would not be the best idea this is a vibe I'm getting. Acid has the potential to go either way on the better worse question.

Mushrooms- mushrooms have always been really nice to me but I need to be up and doing something while I'm on them. Totally a club drug for me. I know that's an insane thing to say but I think my brain chemistry may be fucked up. Anyway this does not make Ed better or worse but it does make him look at stuff and giggle which is objectively cute.

#drug posting #ed teach #ofmd

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theomnicode · 2 years ago

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Burning fever

Archive of our own

-*-

Heroes all around the cities are falling mysteriously ill to the ever present flu. No one is certain what kind of viral infection would affect just the heroes. Some intelligent monsters have been scouting around and seen that there’s far less heroes to actually handle them than usual, so they’ve begun to attack people en masse. Even the fabled Q-city seems to be overrun by monsters. Genos attempts to pull triple duty by taking down as many monsters as possible, as he is not affected by the mysterious viral infection.

One monster, while not a dragon level threat, manages to incapacitate Genos with electromagnetic pulses. Genos internally berates himself for not thinking about protecting himself from electromagnetism. What a massive oversight on his part.

However, when the monster attempts to finish him off, Saitama jumps into the fray in pyjamas and punches it sluggishly, exploding it into copper and wire particles on the spot.

“Man, can you guys make less noise right outside my house…I can’t sleep with all that ruckus,” Saitama complains, nose stuffed and looking feverish. “Especially when my head feels so fuzzy…”

Genos looks at Saitama’s sweating form with concern. “I’m very sorry, Saitama-sensei, I was not prepared for the enemy to have electromagnetism. I will—”

Saitama starts to wave off Genos’ long winded apology, but coughs hard instead, almost bowling Genos over in the process and shivers so much that the pavement cracks apart.

“Man, it’s so hot and cold at the same time,” he holds himself as he shivers, “I don’t remember ever feeling this awful…”

Saitama wavers, trying to stand upright but failing miserably. “Now I feel even worse after I punched it, I wonder why…” he manages to utter out, then faints on the spot.

“SAITAMA-SENSEI!”

Genos catches him onto his arms quickly before Saitama can actually fall down flat on his face on the pavement and takes note of his actual temperature, noting with distress that it's dangerously high and that Saitama-sensei must’ve exerted himself too much, despite it not being even miniscule amount of effort he normally needs to dispose such monsters. Genos curses the circumstances once more, for inadvertently putting his sensei in danger and begins to rush him to the nearest hospital.

Genos can't for the life of him believe that feverish man in his arms is his master, the same man he deemed invincible, downed by a mere cold. It shouldn't be happening, logically there is no way Saitama-sensei would be able to get sick like this but here he is, carrying his prone, vulnerable master to the hospital for treatment. Perhaps he miscalculated somewhere, maybe common sickness can still affect even the strongest man on earth, but it still feels surreal...

He looks down at the man in his arms and distractedly notes Saitama-sensei is trying to grasp at his clothes weakly, delirious but coherent enough to realize he's being carried at fast speed and his hearing registers sensei mumbling his name. Genos tries to keep calm when he re-scans for elevated heart rate, sensei’s dangerously high temperature and the shivers–-correction, muscle tremors that rock his body. He's lucky that his stabilizers correct his grip, else Saitama-sensei would tremble right out of his arms.

“Do not worry sensei, I am en route towards the nearest hospital for urgent care. I have notified the staff of an incoming patient,” Genos' voice is serious, but soothing. He would carry Saitama-sensei to a proper treatment facility asap.

“Do I...really need hospital? That bad, huh…” Saitama croaks and violently sneezes, which Genos angles away from his head but an unfortunate lamp post still bends from the air pressure.

“Yes sensei, your body temperature is dangerously high for humans and you're experiencing muscle spasms, dehydration and elevated heart rate,” Genos recites his medical condition at a fast rate. “Hyperpyrexia is considered medical emergency, as it may indicate serious underlying condition or lead to severe morbidity or to—”

A sudden finger on his chin and his lower lip interrupts his rambling.

“20 words or less, Genos…”

“Yes sensei. I am sorry, I will stop rambling now. What I mean is, you need urgent medical attention for your extremely high fever.”

“Ok…” Saitama mumbles quietly. “I’m tired, ‘m gonna sleep…” He mutters weakly, then goes out like a light.

Genos starts running even faster.

#opm #one punch man #saitama #genos #saigenos #genosai #my own work #fanfiction #drabble #sick fic #high fever #viral infection #drama #medical jargon

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fizzingwizard · 11 months ago

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Back in the US for the first time in five years

(Wowww apparently posting on tumblr got waaaayy stupider during the time I was offline bahahahaha. took forever just to put in a cut and start a new line!)

Left home at 2:30 on Friday Japan time, got to my mom's new place around 9 pm New York time. About 22 hrs traveling in total. Not the longest and I didn't have to stop in like O'hare or any place I hate. Lots of usual flight nonsense occurred on the way, but it was overall smooth. The worst was when I got to New York and it took 30 min to get my bag because it was the very last one to be unloaded -.-; Then I was supposed to meet a driver to take me to my mom's place, but that driver got held up and sent someone else, who changed the plan, but I didn't know till I got out of baggage claim. And the driver couldn't get inside because it was so busy, so I had to just wait outside looking for his license plate amid all the many, many cars in the night. He did find me and then lectured me because I didn't have a good method of communication. I was going to rely on wifi because I couldn't find a US sim card for my old phone, a plan which would have been fine had the driver come into the airport like was the original plan. Because he was outside I couldn't access wifi. So. Anyway I tipped him with an apology... I do know better ways to have a phone when you travel internationally, but the problem is my current phone is just too old. It works just fine in Japan but can't do apps and no one makes anything for it. So I need a new one, but I just didn't want to pay through the nose for it so I didn't rush it...

Whatever. I got to the house in the end.

My mom's condo with her partner is small but really nice. It's weird being somewhere totally new, but much less weird than I expected because they made it so comfortable.

My mom's partner is really chill and doesn't have issues talking about my dad

The town they're living in is like Star's Hollow minus all the TV show over-decorating. It's really nice. Everyone is old though x'D I've seen like two youngish people outside of store employees. I'm no great conversationalist to begin with, and talking to people 30-40 years older than me is even harder. All I can say is "I like your scarf." In a conversation about raffles that falsely claim to be associated with charities, I made what I thought was a reasonable comment comparing that with psychics who promise people they're in touch with their loved one and take their money. Of course, one lady nearby totally believes psychics are real and "has done years of research on it." I'm like ok I'm not saying psychic powers can't exist, I'm saying taking people's money while lying to them is bad... and then uhhh just moved on to complimenting her scarf.

They're nice people but it is funny, watching a large crowd of people have conversations over each other, no one really interested in what each other is saying but just happy to be talking while another person is near and talking too...? My mom wants to talk about a movie she watched, so she's talking about that, at the same time her partner is talking about the food, their friend can't hear either of them because it's so loud so she's talking about the drinks at the bar. There was really no coherence! But everyone is happy and having fun. I don't get it but I guess that's why I suck at small talk.

Also talked to my dad. He said hello and then shared all his medical updates, which apparently includes he's got some very slow-acting form of leukemia! Sooo that was a fun surprise! I got to cry on my first day back!

I am also sick. Started with a sore throat literally the day before I was supposed to leave and bit by bit got other symptoms. Fortunately it didn't fuck me up too much on the plane. Probably just a cold. Keep crossing my fingers I'll be over it soon.

but I'm overall happy. I will feel better when I'm no longer sick and jetlagged, but it's nice to see my mom. I don't like all these crowds, but I like the area and I think during the week I won't be getting shuffled all over the place so much. it's gonna go by fast so I gotta appreciate

#fizz's life

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absolutely-not-my-main-blog · 2 years ago

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Omg what parallels did you come up with for Buffy and Sunny (serious ones or not so serious lol)

*You fool, you just activated my trap card.jpeg*

They both initiated the growth of strange fungus on my brain and were able to instill the elusive brainrot within me.

Town named Sunnydale, show named Always Sunny, never actually all that sunny metaphorically speaking for those involved, jk, jk.

But yeah, the parallels are less *concrete*/plot related or anything-- though I'm sure I could find something in that respect if I were to try--and more just in terms of the effects both shows were able to have on me in a way nothing else has, and how unexpected those effects were. Because for about 8 years now, while other interests have come and gone despite me thinking "oh this is gonna be the one" before they fizzled out again, Buffy has consistently been the only thing that's really stuck with me, and I thought I'd never feel that way about anything else again... until Sunny came along.

(Advanced apologies for you here, this will not be concise or coherent)

And no one was more surprised than me at the outcome of both of these things, because I remember when I first started Buffy, the opening episodes aren't the strongest, and I kind of turned to my sister with a skeptical look like *bitch, you live like this.jpeg* "You watched all 7 seasons of this?" I mean, the mantis alone, hello? But now, this show is imprinted on my very being. You'd be hard pressed to have a conversation with me and not hear about Buffy at least once. And Sunny... my God, Sunny, I came into it expecting the worst of the worst, I told myself I was just gonna watch one (1) episode just to see how bad it is, and at first it really almost is a "so bad you can't look away" situation in a way, but then suddenly, suddenly it clicks and you go, no, no, this is... incredibly well made, and just as suddenly, it was infiltrating my conversations, my rambles, my every thought, just as strongly as Buffy ever had, and soon Buffy was sharing the override codes to rewiring my brain with a new contender, the one no one bet on.

And I think a lot of this effect crucially comes down to the innate way each show is able to balance the humour and the ridiculousness of their situations with the reality and distinct humanity of their characters, especially in the incorporation of little, at times almost mundane, details as well as the subversion of tropes you wouldn't usually expect within their respective genres that make everything else hit 1000x harder than their contemporaries. Blanking on all specific examples, but you know!

I mean, Buffy has a reputation as this cheesy, bad cgi, kind of silly supernatural monster of the week 90s teen show, and it is! It very much is! That's part of its appeal. It's fun, it's bizarre, but it's also razor sharp, layered in metaphors about growing up, about grief, about love and fear and life and death and sacrifice, both big and small, and it doesn't compromise one aspect for the other, they play off of and elevate each other to maximum effect. But even amidst all that, most importantly, at the heart of the show is the Scooby Gang themselves, (hey, they're both called the gang, I've connected the dots, am I right, fellas?), and how all these things have come to shape them and how they have come to shape each other, while also kind of being stuck in their own bubble where no one else can understand what they've been through. And the thing that really sets it apart is we get to see the potential of everything that was and could have been, we get to see the glimpses of their normal lives, or what their lives once were. We get to see what they lost, we get to see them lose, or at least feel it in the narrative, and we get to see bits of ourselves in them and how that informs their choices. We get to see a scared young girl who still keeps a little stuffed animal in her room, goes to the mall and just wants to be a cheerleader and go to prom, have a date with a nice boy, laugh with her friends and survive highschool in a non-supernatural sense, but whose predestined assigned role was always going to thrust her against her will into a horror show where she is forced to become something else. We get to see these little points of familiarity, and only then... do we get to see them all torn down.

I know there's some quote from Whedon floating around out there that goes something like, "If you don't have the small, the big doesn't matter." And he's right. It's these silly seeming little moments of reality amongst the chaos that make us care.

Because, yes, Whedon may be horrendous as a person and at times horrendous at continuity and follow through and whatever, but I think one thing he did understand was psychology and how to hit the audience where it hurts, especially utilizing humour in such a way it could either make you bust a gut, or it could gut you, and this is all in a way that doesn't necessarily translate as well to other projects he's been involved with like say, the MCU, where they had the big events, made the quips, but they didn't do the work of character development or the little moments before the events to make them anything more than hollow.

And I think RCG really understand this, too. Though, while Buffy is primarily a tragedy with elements of comedy, Sunny is obviously more a comedy with elements of tragedy. So Buffy gives us the moments of light in the darkness that have the ability to destroy you, and Sunny often gives us these moments of darkness in the light that have that very same ability if you start to think too much. The lines are very blurred genre wise in both cases actually.

Because Sunny, in its corner, meanwhile has a reputation as the haha funny terrible person meme who pooped the bed show, you know. And it is, too! There's nothing wrong with that! It's silly, it's out there, it's meant to be fun. But it's also biting satire with a knack for sitcom trope subversion like no other, and it's also genuinely the most intense and psychologically fascinating character study I have ever seen. They put so much thought into why these people are the way they are, why they do what they do, they throw in all these little details that seem innocuous or random but almost always turn out to mean so much more to the characters and their decisions as a whole. Unlike Buffy, we don't necessarily see on screen most of the events that have changed them in their formative years, but we see the lingering/haunting effect they carry into the present, trapping them in that same kind of bubble of their own, and it works just the same, if not better because being older and have more background behind them to build off of. Anyway, we see these terrible, egotistical, ridiculous people messing up the lives of others and themselves, but then they pull out the rug and we see a glimpse of these damaged kids who just wanted love from their parents, who grew up in circumstances that meant they almost never could have turned out any other way... could they? This whole thing of fate and circumstance and the traumas that shape us, and metaphors in monsters and in cats in walls and--

Uh where was I?

Shows that are funny, that are comforting, but on some level profoundly sad and more than meets the eye!

I think the main parallel between them is just how innocuous they seem to the casual outside observer. How none of this means anything if not seen firsthand, or how this looks like Charlie with the Pepe Silvia board, especially when I'm trying to tell the group chat that the Preying Mantis Sex Dungeon and the Magnum Condom for Danny Devito's monster dong shows are unrivaled feats of television writing and psychological prowess. Also how they're able to toe the line/bend their perceived genres in unexpected ways.

Also, Buffy is the show for growing up a loser and Sunny is the show for being grown up and still a loser (me-core).

And uuh, let's see *scrambling* people who associate with the Scooby Gang or the gang, both cases, they're probably gotta get their lives ruined/or end up dying. That's not my real parallel though.

I would be so interested in trying to find real, legit parallels in both shows though, because I'm 100% sure they exist. I saw someone say how Mac was Spike coded and yeah, I could totally see it. Dennis could be in a way, too, but Mac and Spike did both make sex dolls of the objects of their affection and let me tell you Mac + the lyrics to Spike's Rest in Peace, yeah. Anyway, been wanting to do a Buffy rewatch for ages, and Sunny is still at a good heightened stage of fixation for a rewatch as well. I know when I was initially drawing all my parallels, though, I had something better than this incoherent ramble because I was reading this mediocre book of Buffy essays at the time but there was one describing something about it where I was just like, whoa, that's just like Sunny 100% that's what's making me tick in both shows, and now I can't for the life of me find what it was, but a good disclaimer for that line of inquiry is I think this was the week I also had covid, can't recall.

#ask #long post #anmmbposts #btvs #iasip

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