#awkwardly ignoring Ashley's advances????????

[sometimesraven]

the sheer number of Leon edits on TikTok to “Smooth Operator” like did we play the same games that boy is a disaster bottom

[boygeniuslovechild]

Homecoming Dance - Stanley Barber

I apologize in advance on how horrible this is. I'm not very good at writing. How dare I disrespect Stanley like that 😔

The homecoming dance was tomorrow and I didn't have a date. Not even my mom could force my cousin to go with me. Mega yikes.

But, me being my amazing self I started randomly asking people at lunch. Call it my adventurous side, if you will. 20 minutes. That's all I need.

First stop, the cheerleaders. "Ladies.... hello" I said with a smirk on my face as I slid on one of the benches. They all got this disgusted look on their faces as they stood up to go to another table. "I'm guessing thats a maybe!" I exclaimed awkwardly before resting my head on my arm.

Next stop, the football players. See, I told you, I'm desperate. I walked over with a couple of skips and leaned against the table. "Fellas, how you doing?" They just ignored me and went back to their normal conversations which I believe was about the game.

One more. I walked over to a table that contained normal looking people. Great. Hopefully one of them would accept me. I just plopped down next to one of the girls and rested my head on my arm again. "Hey! Veronica, right?" My voice was desperate even though I was trying to sound normal. Her face scrunched up, "No. It's Ashley."

"Right. Ashley. So, have you heard of a band called Bloodwitch?" My face held an awkward smile. Of course sense it was me, she rolled her eyes and then told me to leave her alone. "I respect that. Talk to you later Bethany." And with that I went to sit at a table. Preferably one that had no one there.

I kept my head down as my face was red from the embarrassment. Maybe my dad was right. I am going to be forever alone. I took out my paper sack that held my lunch because I was starving and I wasted most of my time asking people out. Slowly unwrapping my peanut butter and jelly sandwich that was cut in half. I took a bite out of one of the pieces and left the other on the plastic wrap.

Then all of the sudden a boy with curly hair sat in front of me. My eyes widen with shock but I smile and hand him the other half of the sandwich, which he gladly accepted. I started telling him my best dad jokes that made him smile with his dimples. That led to 20 questions. Or 10 because the bell rang so we had to go to class.

We said our goodbyes, WAIT. I swiftly turn around but was not fast enough because he was gone. I was gonna ask him out to homecoming. AHHHH. I let out a sigh but went to my locker to grab my stuff for Algebra 1.

I walked through the door with my spirits down, knowing that I might not see... DID I NOT GET HIS NAME?!? HOW STUPID COULD YOU BE Y/N? AHHH. I went to sit down but saw a familiar face. Curly hair dude! He's in my algebra class thank god! The seat next to him was empty so I took it and ripped some of my notebook paper and wrote down "Howdy". Slowly but surely, you got the note on his desk without him knowing.

When class began he found the note. Then he saw me. We "talked" more during the class and we got to know each other. Turns out, he loves Bloodwitch! How cool is that!

Sadly, me and Stanley (yes I learned his name, and his digits ;) ) didn't have any more classes together. It was fine, I guess. It's just something about him made me so happy. He just made me feel happy. For once.

After school I was gonna ask him. How should I do it? Just go up to him and say "Do you want to go to homecoming with me?" Yes.

But it didn't go that well. I saw him at his car so I went over there and said the words. Kind of. More like "Homecoming? Will you with me?". Yikes. He laughed and said yes but made a Yoda reference.

Maybe I won't be alone after all.

[sugar-coated-saphic]

Erica Yurken-bisexuality or compulsory heterosexuality (part 1)

(Spoiler warning!)

So I found myself really thinking about this character and this film, and how she interacts with the characters in the film. Namely various women and her designated love interest, Barry Hollis (who wasn’t originally a love interest in the book mind you).

For a while I headcannoned Erica as bisexual, the haircut and especially her interactions with both women and Barry at the time seemed to point to bisexuality. I definitely see Erica as lgbt, she is clearly not straight and I’m not the only one to see this. But then I began to dig a little deeper and analyse a bit more, was it my shipping lenses which made me think she was bi (even if she’s not into him, it was at least a well written and natural relationship progression and Barry seemed to genuinely like her) or was she actually bi? I’m here to analyse that based on what I’ve found.

To start off, the link provided and many others is what I used to base my assumptions on, you can find more by searching compulsory heterosexuality on tumblr. This is the link I’ve used. Within the first 5 minutes of the film, were introduced to miss Belmont, and she asks Erica her name. The children begin to make fun of her and miss Belmont tells them to be quiet, which Erica then tells her, her name. The exchange goes as follows ( 5:14-5:48)

Miss Belmont: “Erica, is a very beautiful name. Do you know that it means great heroine?”

To which Erica then faints and says

Erica (monologueing): “miss Belmont made me feel so special, I was in heaven..”

Very early on its made clear that Erica sees women differently, almost as if she is in love with some and very much enjoys female attention. However, with men this doesn’t seem to be the case, as with the first proper exchange between Erica and Barry (2:18-2:31)

Miss Belmont: “Erica, I know I can rely on you to show Alison around.”

Erica (rather excitedly and enthusiasticly)” sure miss Belmont!”

Enter Barry, who is also in the hall

“Yeah I’ll come too, after Erica gives you the freak show, I’ll show you the good stuff.”

During this, Erica is quick to pull Alison away and ignore him, while Alison seems to show interest in him. Erica is quick to dismiss him however.

Erica: “Alison, this is Barry Hollis. My stalker.”

Also something that’s worth pointing out Is when Alison is first introduced to the class and Is seated next to Erica, not only Erica is constantly staring at Alison once she sits down, but how she describes her (0:30-0:37)

Erica, gazing at Alison with amazement and infatuation (monloguing): Alison ashley was the most exquisite thing you ever saw. It was like she cast a light over everything around her”.

It’s made clear at this point that Erica has a clear interest in women, Alison especially. But Is quite dismissive in regards to men and their advances.

Another romantic interest in women is shown when Alison and Erica are discussing the school she wants to attend (Kyle grammar). The scene goes as follows (here)

Erica (monologueing): “I would have loved to go to a school like that, beautiful girls thinking beautiful thoughts. Was where I belonged.”

Once again, this very much comes off as romantically as opposed to jealousy. She clearly shows interest in women more so then men, speaking of which.

Fast forward to halfway through the film, when the bus breaks down and everyone is forced to get off. It’s been Made clear to the audience that Erica’s aspirations In life are becoming a great actress and a good place for her to start would be the camp play, Romeo and Juliet. Here’s an example of compulsory heterosexuality in the link provided:

“I’m constantly testing my attraction to men. I pick one or more conventionally attractive men in the room, and try to force myself to be attracted to them.”

Let’s see how this scene matches up to the description given (3:39-3:55)

Erica, looking at all the boys standing outside in front of her (monologueing): “ I decided to spend the time casting my Romeo, but things looked bleak they were all such repulsive options. Least Barry Hollis was a tall repulsive option, and there was no other choice for Juliet, was there.”

She then smiles, rather awkwardly, though it’s unclear if it’s forced. Comparing the scene with the example show above, gives off strong vibes that Erica doesn’t actually like Barry, but rather tolerates him. Not even calling him the exception to the rest of the “repulsive options” , instead as the least repulsive option. Like she’s picking whom she can tolerate most rather than feeling actually attraction to someone. Something to note is even though she fantasises about acting in the play Romeo and Juliet, when an actual romantic gesture happens on Barry’s part...Erica’s reaction is quite interesting (8:00-8:17)

Erica is sitting on a bench outside, thinking yo herself (monologueing): “ alisons kimono was perfect, it looked perfect, it felt perfect, just like everything else about her”.

Barry quietly comes up behind her and puts his hand on her shoulder, then leans in to kiss her. Erica responds by standing up, startled and pushes him away.

It’s interesting to note how even with jealousy, Erica still regards Alison as perfect. This scene is interesting, as even with how there has been jealousy towards Alison liking Barry (which I will get to in part 2), once Barry actually makes a move, she gets incredibly uncomfortable and backs off, tying in with another symptom of compulsory heterosexuality

“I like the idea of being with a man, but any time a man makes a move on me I get incredibly uncomfortable.”

When Erica is not dismissive or uncomfortable near Barry Hollis, she can be quite quick tempered with him and physically violent; hitting him when he sneaks up on her private phone call to her mum (4:18-4:24) or slapping him very hard after he upsets her by giving her the harsh reality that she can’t act (2:01) [howver as mentioned in the audio commentary, Barry’s intention was not to humiliate her, but to tell her the harsh reality because he loved her and cared about her to some extent]. Throughout this, even despite the major conflicts Alison and Erica are going through, the attraction to her and women seem to be much more realistic than those to men.

Here is one of the last scenes between her and another woman which is clearly shown to be romantic (save for Erica staring lovingly at Alison towards the end of the film and gently wiping her tear away, as well as helping her and being overall soft and gentle with her).

Erica is sat down at a bus stop, after a confrontation between her and Allison occurs in which she decides its best to give up on her dreams of being an actress and tries to escape camp. She then begins to have her last fantasy sequence in the film, wherein she is laying on a hospital bed and presumable dying, with her fellow teachers playing role of the nurses. Soon in the scene, miss Belmont ( dressed as a nurse) begins to stroke/caress Erica’s hair, while Erica makes this face, blushes and gazes into her eyes.

What’s interesting to note is that this doesn’t actually happen, this is what Erica imagines. She actively thinks about women in a romantic way, and even fantasies about her teacher miss Belmont in a homoerotic way (she might be her teacher but nothing comes of it and it’s one sided-making this not creepy). This seems to very much contrast how she views real interactions with men vs any interaction or view of women, real or in her imagination.

The last moment between Erica and Barry is after the play is finished. There is some small talk before something happens (5:51-5:57)

Barry Hollis: look about the other night...next time, I’m sticking the tongue in (implying he would like to perhaps date her)

Erica then responds with this face

It’s somewhat ambiguous as to how Erica feels about this, the expression on her face is that of a slightly uncomfortable smile or confused genuine delight? With how she has responded to things like this in the past, I feel compelled to agree with the former. One could make the argument that she is only 14, so things like this seem very big for her and mature, and it’s also a possibility.

Conclusion: Erica Yurken gives off many vibes that she may only be interested in women, and that her attraction to men is only a result of compulsory heterosexuality. However I am not done with this topic, tomorrow I will be dabbling into why Erica may be bisexual and discuss those too. Scenes which were purposefully left out here was so I can compare tomorrow and see how they fare. As here I only wanted to focus on compulsory heterosexuality and wlw/same sex attraction

Thank you for listening to my ted talk, I am extremely tired so I’m going to sleep, goodnight. Part 2 will be up sometime tomorrow (this was written 31/8/2020)

[temilyrights]

Escape

Requested by @fangirlspammer​​: Could you do #5 for the Sloane x Reader fic? 

5. “Please come get me…” 

Warnings: alcohol, mild swearing.

You’d been working the case for a week. Neighbours had phoned the police when they noticed a strong smell coming from Petty Officer Ashley Hudson’s apartment. She’d been murdered, cause of death: an excessive amount of stab wounds. Jimmy declared she’d been dead approximately 48 hours before being discovered, hence the smell.  

You’d gone to speak to her CO with McGee. CO Wallace was charming and overly determined to help you find the man who’d killed PO Hudson, he was also teeming with fragile masculinity and arrogance. You noticed the way his lip curled in frustration when Hudson was mentioned and despite how ‘helpful’ he was trying to be he made sure to mention that Hudson was always causing problems and being insubordinate despite there not being a single report supporting this. You didn’t like how he seemed incapable of addressing you, subtly finding ways to direct all his answers to McGee instead.

 When you got back to NCIS, Bishop told you about how PO Hudson had told her sister about a man that was bothering her but never mentioned his name. Just that he was relentless in his advances. You’d spoken to PO Hudson’s friend/fellow PO who had some less than stellar things to say about CO Wallace and his behaviour towards Hudson. You were sure that it was him that had killed her.

 The only evidence was the end of a knife in the victim’s body and a few clothing fibres. You’d hope the clothing fibres would link to something obvious like a military uniform however it was just a common black t-shirt which wasn’t enough to get a warrant. The knife was part of a set from PO Hudson’s kitchen, making your crime of passion theory more likely.

 With PO Hudson’s friend’s testimony, you were sure you could cause enough reasonable doubt but before you had the chance to go speak to her again, she’d rather suddenly been ordered to sea and out of reach.

 You ended up inviting Wallace under the pretence of needing more information for the case, however, when he arrived, he came with an expensive-looking lawyer which didn’t allow you the opportunity to question him as you wanted too. The lawyer had eventually threatened a harassment suit and Vance said you didn’t have cause to hold him, so you’d been forced to let him go.

 You stood in the bullpen and watch as Wallace made his way to the elevator and winked at you on the way. He was due to return to duty in the next couple of days which meant he’d be on a ship out of reach for months. Your case was screwed, and a murderer was going to walk free. 

 You’d argued with Gibbs about finding a way to keep him here but without evidence, there was nothing he could do. McGee, Bishop and Torres had watched you warily from their desks as you’d thrown stuff in your bag, slamming desk draws and stormed out of the building.  

 It was late, nearly 8 pm and you headed straight to a bar. It was dark and pretty empty and the perfect place to drown your sorrows. Jack had phoned you, which you ignored, and then she’d texted you asking if you were ok, resulting in you turning your phone off completely and ordering another drink. It wasn’t that you weren’t grateful that she cared, because you were, it’s just she’d want to talk about how you’re feeling and she’d be all understanding and kind and she’d smile at you which always made your stomach erupt with butterflies.

 You just wanted to drink, to forget and definitely not think about the disappointed but concerned look Jack would be giving you if she knew what you were currently doing.

 Now it was about an hour later, you were about 3 drinks in and starting to feel the effects of the alcohol as is travelled through your system. The thought of dancing to the bad music filling the bar was beginning to sound more appealing. 

 “Hey beautiful” The voice interrupts your thoughts and you turn to face a man who’s already standing too close, a leer on his face and the smell of stale beer wafting from his body. You resist the urge to grimace in disgust. “What do ya drink?” 

 “Sorry, I’m not interested.” 

 “Awh come on darlin’. What can I get ya?” 

 You lift the side of the jacket to reveal the NCIS badge clipped to your trousers “Not interested.” You repeat and the man looks down at the badge grinding his teeth in mild anger. You lift your eyebrows daring him to try something, but he seems to think better of it and backs away.

 You sigh in relief, going back to your drink. You think maybe you should call it a night and head home but the thought of going home to your empty apartment fills you with dread. You instead order another drink, including a shot this time as well. You down the shot immediately, choking on the strong liquor you wash the taste away with a sip of your drink.   

 You were beginning to feel floaty and were about to get up and dance when Jack enters the bar. She sighs in relief when she sees you. She’s still dressed in the same clothes from the day at work, with an added winter coat to help with the frosty air. Her hair’s a little dishevelled from the long day and you can’t help but think she’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen. 

 She takes her phone from her coat pocket, removing her gloves in the process, and begins tapping on it before holding it up to her ear “Yes, I’ve found her. Thank you, Tim.” You’re too far away to hear the response “No, go home. I’ve got her. Yes, I’ll see you at work on Monday, have a good weekend.” She ends the call, shoving her phone back into her pocket before she walks over to you, sliding onto the barstool next to you, she bumps your shoulder.

 “Special Agent Sloane” you smirk, holding your glass up in cheers before taking another sip.

 “You don’t make it easy to track you down,” She says it jokily, but her concern is plastered all over her face.  

 “And yet you’re here less than 2 hours after I left NCIS.”

 She ignores your snide comment. “How are you?” 

 You roll your eyes “I’m fine. I’m drinking.” Jack looks unimpressed as you continue to drink. Well aware of your bullshit she just watches you, waiting for you to continue. “I’m angry” you finally whispered, looking away from Jack’s knowing eyes. 

 She places a comforting hand on your arm and your eyes instantly tear up. You take a deep breath, pulling all your emotions back. You shrug Jack’s hand off your arm and distract yourself with your drink.

 “Don’t do that” Jack chastised, and you sigh loudly. “Y/N-”

 “Can we not.” You snap, your buzz dampened. “I was here alone because I don’t want to talk about this.” 

 “Tough shit” Your head snaps over to Jack in surprise “This case has affected you a lot and you need to talk about that, otherwise you’re just going to end up doing something stupid.” 

 You don’t respond, choosing instead to finish your drink and order another one. Jack sighs in frustration. 

 “How much have you had to drink?” 

 “Not enough apparently.” you quip.

 “Alcohol isn’t going to solve your problems.” 

 You laugh bitterly “Maybe not but it’s a damn good distraction.” 

 “Y/N-”

 “Jack just stop!” You rub your forehead in frustration trying to soothe the headache you feel coming along. The alcohol was only heightening your emotions instead of suppressing them as you’d hoped. Jack is still watching you with concern and it makes you angrier because you don’t want to do this. You just need her to stop, you don't want to think. “I can’t...” you take a deep breath as your voice cracks. You shake your head in frustration and Jack goes to touch you and you basically fall out of your seat in the hurry to escape her grasp. “Don’t...I-” 

 Jack���s hands shoot up in surrender, but you see the hurt flash across her face. You don’t want to upset her; you feel the ache in your chest grow. Your heads swarming from the alcohol, you’re dizzy and hot and need to get out of here. “I need to go” You choke. Turning around you run from the bar. Ignoring Jack’s calls of protest and confusion. 

 You stumble down the street, arms wrapped around yourself to help protect you from the cold air. You’d forgotten to pick up your coat in the rush to get out of the bar and now you were walking around with your flimsy blazer which wasn’t helping at all. The cold air was making the effects of the alcohol more prominent. Your head was fuzzy, and your eyes begin to well up both from the freezing temperature and your swarm of building emotions. 

 It was stupid to run away; you knew she’d be coming to look for you. 

 You’d been so convinced you could get this guy, that his arrogance would allow you to entrap him in some way, but he was too protected, too many friends in high places. No one was as outraged as you and it didn’t make sense, the scumbag had killed PO Hudson because she kept rejecting his advances. You wanted everyone to be furious. 

 In your drunken state, and fast walking you don’t notice the icy pavement ahead of you. You trip, falling onto the floor and twisting your ankle awkwardly. You groan in pain. Your hands are scratched up and you can’t manoeuvre yourself up from the floor, sighing in frustration you dig your phone from your pocket. 

 You turn it on as your hands tremble and you’re surprised to see a flourish of texts and calls appear from Jack from earlier this evening. 

 Oh. 

 You’d know she’d been concerned, but you hadn’t realised just how much. You hang your head in shame, groaning. You’d been such an ass; all she was doing was being helpful and you’d just shouted at her and ran away.

 You hit her number and listen impatiently as it rings.

 “Look Y/N I can just go home-”

 “I’m sorry” you interrupt hating Jack’s upset (and slightly pissed off) voice. You move slightly and then inhale sharply as your ankle twinges. 

 “Are you ok?” the concern is back instantly.

 “Please come get me...” You wince, another sharp pain shooting through your ankle. You hated how pathetic you sounded.  

 “Where are you?”

 “I only got a few streets away. I can’t see a street sign and I can't move. I slipped; I think I’ve sprained my ankle” you groan. Jack assures you she’ll be there soon and hangs up. You wait, now freezing cold, your ass soaking wet from the icy floor.

 She arrives a couple of minutes later, stopping her car in front of you, she rushes over. Grabbing you by the arms Jack helps pull you from the ground and you bite your lip to try and hide just how much pain you were in.

 “Are you ok?” Jack’s face is full of worry and concern, her hands ghost over you as if to check you were all still there and you try to ignore the feelings it erupts in you. “You’re freezing.”

 “I wasn’t thinking. I’m sorry. I'm drunk and sad and angry and you were being too nice, and I needed to getaway. You were going to get me to talk because I can literally never say no to you-” You miss the slight blush that hits Jack’s cheeks “but I’m angry Jack. I’m angry and I don’t understand why no one else is.” You’re finding it hard to breathe as you let all your emotions from the last week hit.

 Jack moves her hands back to your face, making you focus on her. “Hey. It’s ok. Just breathe” You copied her as she took deep breaths. “Let’s get you home ok?” she said after you’d calmed down slightly. You nodded weakly and she helped you to the car. 

 “I’m really sorry for tonight” The car is silent, Jack focused on the road and you on looking anywhere but at Jack.

 “I’m sorry for pushing you to open up” Jack hesitates “But you do know I’m always here to talk to, right?  Or not talk to, whatever you need.” 

 Jack’s still focused on the road, but you look over to her smiling slightly as you admire her “my super special agent” The words escape your mouth without your permission, you were definitely too drunk to be this close to her. Jack’s head swings round to look at you causing your stomach to explode with butterflies. She looks surprised, her face red. Seeing you watching her she looks back to the road, clearing her throat. 

 The rest of the journey is silent and you’re grateful when she pulls up outside your apartment. Jack grabs your bag and coat from the back seat and moves around the car to help you get out, an arm wrapped around your waist to keep you balanced, as she helps you up the stairs to your apartment. Making sure you’re steady, she lets go of you as she digs through your bag for your keys.

 Once the door is open you both enter, Jack goes off to find something for your ankle, and you wobble to your bedroom. You quickly get out of your wet and cold clothes. Selecting a comfy pair of pyjama trousers and a t-shirt you slip them on before hopping over to your bed. You lie down, sinking into your covers shivering slightly as you try to warm up. 

 Jack enters carrying a glass of water and a frozen pack of peas wrapped in a dishcloth and a small first aid box. You’ve already placed a pillow underneath your ankle and Jack gently places the peas over the top. She then sets your glass on the bedside table, before sitting next to you on the bed with the first aid box. 

 “Let me clean your hands and then you need to drink the water” You nod as Jack cradles one of your hands in hers. They are scraped and red but luckily no proper cuts which meant their likely was little to no gravel in there. She takes an antiseptic wipe. “This is going to sting” You nod, and Jack begins to wipe the area.

 “Son of a-” you gasp flinching lightly, cutting yourself off before you swear and Jack laughs lightly, rolling her eyes. 

 “Hold still, I’m nearly done” Jack chastised, taking your other hand and continuing to clean. You gasp again and Jack looks over to you, your eyes meeting and you both still. She’s now tied her hair up into a messy ponytail with strands of hair framing her face. You want to reach out and touch them, touch her. Jack was watching you closely and you wondered if she felt any of the things you did. You should look away, but you can’t seem to manage, held captive by Jack's eyes. You just needed to reach out and-

 You kiss her. It’s soft and slow and for a few beautiful seconds, Jack is kissing you back.

 Then she sharply pulls away.

 She stares at you in shock, her fingers ghosting her lips and you watch her as about 5 different emotions flash across her face in a couple of seconds.

 Jack’s eyes start to ghost before she releases a choked “you’re drunk.”

 “I’m sobering up.” you rebut instantly.

 “Y/N-” Jack’s shaking her head now.

 “I want this.” You’re surprised by how firm and confident your voice is, but it’s true. You want this so badly, wanted it for so long.

 “I can’t do this-”

 “Jack-”

 “No. This shouldn’t have happened, you’re drunk, and you’ve had a bad week and-”

 “I want this.” you repeat, reaching out to touch Jack’s cheek but she pulls away before you can, and tears begin to trickle down her cheeks.

 “Please stop…” She begs and your chest aches.

 “I promise you I’d want this completely sober; I’ve just been too shit scared to do anything.” You must be slightly convincing as Jack finally meets your eyes again. You gently wipe away the tears from her face and she releases a shaky breath.

  “I can’t do this. Not while you’ve got alcohol in your system. You mean a lot to me Y/N and I don’t want you to say these things just to turn around and regret them in the morning-”

 “I’m not-”

 “Just listen please” Jack begs “I’m going to go now and if you mean it, and I mean really mean it Y/N, then phone me tomorrow. If you don’t” Jack’s voice wobbles “than we can forget about it and move on.”

 “Ok” you nod and Jack leans over to you leaving a lingering kiss on your cheek, before ducking her head and getting off your bed. “I really do mean it, Jack.” You say as she turns to look at you. She gives you a small smile, but you can see the doubt in her eyes before she turns back around and leaves.

 Once you hear your front door shut, you lean back into your bed. A bright smile crosses your face before you drift off to sleep.

[pernatius]

Lost in Space Part 10: Ch 3

Previous 

Summary: Significant changes have occurred while she was unconscious. One of them includes the imprisonment of Syco. Part 10 deals with the unnamed Space Explorer’s reconciliation.

Lost in Space on Tumblr

Lost in Space on ao3

"Commander."

"Commander," I mouthed, taking a moment to realize what was said until breaking away from her and turning. I expected Syco to be near. The three saluting are Tauvoxes, one I'm familiar with, but Syco is nowhere to be found. In the middle is the second-in-command who flinches when Saamuki notices his presence. 

He stutters a bit before regaining his composure and continuing, "Commander Saamuki."

I turn to her, but her eyes are directed at the Tauvox. Saamuki is the leader of the Tauvoxes? When did that happen? How long was I out? Saamuki has proven she does have leadership qualities, but it's just weird how this small, gentle serpent now leads possibly the most barbaric species in the known Universe. Well, she's not so pacific as of recently. 

She straightens herself and places her hands behind her back with her chest puffed out. Her eyes flick to blue. The three Tauvoxes before us, especially the one who's now her second-in-command, are much taller than either of us, yet here she was managing to look down on them. "Lieutenant, I thought I explicitly commanded that my friend be watched until she woke up and when she did I was to be notified."

"I apologize, Commander Saamuki." His second salute is followed by the two Tauvoxes who are awkwardly standing on either side of him, scrambling to do the same. 

"You're apologizing to me, lieutenant? I believe she's the one you should be apologizing to. Not only was she about to open an airlock but you encouraged Syco, which led us to this situation in the first place." The lieutenant's grimace turns to me. I prepare for a fight as I whip my right arm to the side. My sword manifests in my right hand, and I motion for my body to move towards him, but when Saamuki places a hand in front of me before I can even take the first step, I halt and look at her again. She's barely glowing. The lights above make it hard to see that blue glow, but I can feel its heat. "Do you want me to repeat what I said, or would you rather repeat what I did?"

His face relaxed. He sighs, "No, I apologize for everything."

"Good, now is there a reason you left your post?"

“Yes, Commander Saamuki. We just received a transmission and I think it's worth accepting. It's from one of your comrades aboard Commander Knox's ship." 

During our run, the other Tauvoxes saluted Saamuki, pausing from their duties to show their respects, but I saw no signs of Syco, so I looked at Saamuki as her words haunted me. Did she kill Syco? He wanted to kill me. I felt where his horn pierced through me, where the hole should be, as we continued running. I have no scar from it besides my torn clothing and the mental fault; a flash of the event hit me, but I don't think we can afford to decrease our numbers. We need as many people if we're going to survive this even if it means working with Syco.  

The deck's door slid upwards. "Accept it," Saamuki ordered as soon as we stepped inside to the Tauvoxes down below who are typing away.

Skeema appeared. Just like how the last I heard of him hinted, he's wounded. His left arm has been completely ripped off of his body, so he can't reform a new one. One of his eyes is swollen, and he appears to have been shot through his left leg. He's covered in cuts, nothing too brutal there. I don't think he's lost too much blood, but with how he's looking, he still went through some hell. He brushes away the sweat from his forehead and smirks when he notices Saamuki and me. "It's good to see you two again, especially you, Saamuki. You're away from Cabelo for once," he coughed out.

He's in that state because of me. No, I know better than to begin my self-hatred in moments like this. This is bigger than me. Focus. Assess the situation at hand. 

"Thank goodness you're alright. You are alright, right?"

He spits out some blood before responding with, "I'm not anywhere close to dying if that's what you mean."

Saamuki looks around him before questioning, "Where are the others? Please, tell me they're alright?"

"Mikrovos is fine and so is Ashley." 

The two of us let out a sigh of relief.

"But I didn't risk my life to contact you two just to drop in and report that none of us are dead." He looks at me, "As I said with you, Knox is planning something big. Knox wants to absorb everyone's souls, those that have nanites."

"He wants to make himself a Watcher, or a version of it," I concluded. 

"Yes, he believes he's the only way to defeat the Lords of the Universe."

Saamuki steps forward, pushing past the Tauvoxes ahead of us. "What? How is that even possible?"

The lieutenant, who has his arms crossed over his chest, huffs, which Saamuki ignores.  

"It sounds impossible, I know, but do you know how the nanites connect with the brain?"

"Yes."

No. 

"Well, those tiny things scan the entirety of your brain. It's how they can advance the body and heal the organic parts as it learns which string, so to speak, to pull. Unfortunately, I don't have such a luxury. 

"The nanites are so thorough that they scan the quarks in your brain."

"I'm guessing the quarks in the brain are what we define as a soul."

"Correct, as always, Saamuki. My younger self, years before we met, knew about this. I interrogated Knox about it when I was his commander as soon as I put the pieces together. It's why I didn't remember my past for some time. That bastard not only erased my memories but pinned my people against me as well. But this is all my fault because I was the one that instigated these endeavors of his." He slammed his fist on his intercom. "Damn me."

I cut back into the conversation, "Skeema, I know better than anyone that bullying yourself won't do anything but distract you from the real issue. How long do we have until Knox becomes his own Watcher?"

"He's injected nanites into all the soldiers and pirates we've beaten." Knox's ship shakes; something has hit the spaceship. Skeema almost falls over. Luckily he has a good grip on the intercom before him. "He wants a billion souls. After he defeats the Space Pirates blasting us right now and the planet we're heading to next, he will accomplish this. A little over a billion, though, after the planet. We have half a day at the most."

Saamuki's second-in-command breaks out of his aloof state because of this dire news. The weight of the matter finally hits him. 

"A billion souls? That has to be a deathwish, right? Not even real Watchers have more than twenty souls. The Lord I just talked with only had a couple thousand at best." Saamuki steals a quick glance from me. "I'll explain later," I told her. 

Skeema continues, "Maybe the nanites won't cause him to explode, but if I read the right file, which I'm sure I did, then that many souls will overload him. Unless…" He rubs his chin. "He must have a different set of nanites, a better version. Of course his nanites would be different. Why didn't I see that before?"

"Skeema."

"Yes, Saamuki."

"You said something about a file. Can you send it to us?" A moment later, of him typing, and the ship received the file, which one of the Tauvoxes below confirmed. "Thank you, Skeema, but considering you're not under Knox's control—"

Skeema interrupts her with, "Knox placed a firewall even I can't crack, so I can't help the others. Even if I could it would take too long to deactivate a substantial number of nanites, but I'm also not here to just relay bad news. I have some good news too. I believe I've cracked half of the firewall." He sends information about this too and then looks directly at me for the second time. "After the last time we spoke, I have reason to believe you hold a code somewhere in your chip thanks to your nanites that can override the firewall and deactivate all of the nanites instantaneously."

"Considering Syco's background, why in the Universe would Knox create such a catastrophic hole in his plan," Saamuki asked Skeema. 

"That's because he didn't. Knox isn't the only brain behind this. Before becoming infamous, Apulsion, Syco's predecessor, thought of this exact same plan. At the time, Apulsion knew the chances of survival would be slim because technology hadn't advanced enough. So, he wrote a fail-safe."

Mikrovos is right. The Commander did some good things when he was alive, but mainly awful things. It's technically his fault we're even having this issue. 

"Got it. Get the code. Deactivate the nanites."

On his side, metal being banged can be heard, which Skeema turns towards. "Damn it. He found me." Skeema reforms his only hand left into a blade. A figure bolts towards him before the transmission ends. As quick as the figure moved, I caught a good enough glimpse to know who that was. 

"S1Y is alive." I could cry because of the relief this brought me, but I was more concerned about Skeema, which Saamuki is too, of course.  

"Skeema? Skeema!"

Five minutes have passed since Skeema's transmission abruptly ended. Commander Saamuki has her screen floating in front of her. Currently, she's pacing back and forth while scrolling through the code of my nanites. 

Saamuki's second-in-command walks up behind her. Before the lieutenant can interrupt her, he salutes, and when he's about to open his mouth to speak, he is interrupted by her. "Have we gotten in contact with Sakhra yet?"

"Unfortunately not, Commander Saamuki." That was the first time I've seen the lieutenant genuine. 

"Keep trying. We have to find him before it's too late."

He salutes before leaving the two of us. We're not alone as he rejoins the other Tauvoxes below, but he's far enough to make me feel awkward. Even him staying would make me feel less self-conscious. The question is on the tip of my tongue, but I'm afraid to ask because what's happening right now is something much more important than my vendetta. Staying here is the more sensible option as I might be needed, even though I'm not an expert in either code or Sakhra. My cognitive dissonance must've been clearly written over my face because Saamuki breaks me out of my thoughts when she calls me. Her face is greener than usual, thanks to her screen. Much of it is blocked by all the numbers, letters, and symbols, but I can see the understanding in her still blue eyes.

"Cabelo is similar to me as he too is an orphan. The first war took away his family as well," she laughs, "Cabelo thought opening that hotel would help people like him. He wasn't wrong because in all honesty it did help me, but I know it did more harm than good to me. Now that I realize this I wish I could've talked with him about what he did to me and what he's been doing to many others instead of nearly killing him. So, that's why I'm telling you he's on the third level. I'm sure you know where he is now, but I hate that you do."

Words can't erase what was done, but time can. So, I stuff the pain away and thank her before I leave. 

The hallway is long, too long. All but one of those dark cells is empty. That one, to my surprise, already has someone talking to the person of interest inside. I can't hear what Shiitakee is telling Syco, but I have a feeling it's really personal, so I take my time walking towards the two to give them more time to talk it out. My hand slides across the bars. They're cold, unsurprisingly they are, but they create music with my touch. It's not worthwhile music, but it's still powerful nonetheless. It makes me feel heartfelt because I'm not the one on the other side of those bars this time. I'm no longer a prisoner to others. 

My anthropomorphic mushroom friend removes his eyes from Syco and places them onto me. He smiles through his cigarette. It's soft. It's the same understanding look Saamuki gave to me. I guess I was too loud. Whoops, but with that look, at least I didn't interrupt them in the middle of their conversation. It appears I made it just in time, right after their conversation ended. 

"Ah, I was wondering when you'd come." I take a good look at him. He's all healed up. Thankfully he is, but his nanites had a whole day to repair him because apparently, I was unconscious for an entire day. "Oh, yeah. I've been fully healed for the past twenty two hours." An awkward silence hits us until he realizes we've been staring at each other for too long. Shiitakkee excuses himself, and before he's out of earshot, he reveals I won't be alone with Syco because he'll be waiting down the hall just in case. 

I turn to Syco, who has a shadow looming over him as his back is against the wall facing across from me, head lowered, and has shackles locked on his wrists. My fists are shaking as I grit my teeth and furrow my eyebrows. "You're a bastard, Syco." 

[coffeeandcalligraphy]

Birthdays, quinoa and not reading books | July Goals Update

Hey People of Earth!

A) Just want to say, I looked over my June Goals Update post before this, and ohhhh myyyy, am I feeling so much better? I know in that post, I was *not* in a great place, but I’m happy to report I’m doing so much better now!

B) There was no b I don’t know why I did this whole ABC thing.

Alrighty.

WHAT A MONTH.

I honestly am so amazed July is over, but also am not amazed because it’s felt like three years, but it’s also only felt like two days. So. That’s my current aesthetic.

I don't really know how to preface this post. There isn't much to say... I mean, I had a good month? But let’s just get into these goals.

1. Hit 100k in FOSTERED #5

HIT 118K BABY.

(I’m so proud of this goal, lol. So, so proud.)

(Good job. Good. Job.)

2. Outline more of ALANNIS, and like maybe try to finish it, though I mean this isn’t going to happen, so yeah, just work on it pls

You know how last month I said I didn't even touch this thing? Well guess who did the same thing this month. ;)

I’m sorry Matthew. I am so sorry.

Matthew drawn by @sarahkelsiwrites​ ^^^ 

(In other news, I’ve gotten a BUNCH of new ideas [by bunch I mean like 2 but] for this book and for its sequel, so does that count? Planned an awesome Matthew + Harrison + Lonan scene in the car driving up to New York, so fun timez.)

3. Upload another video.

I UPLOADED THREE VIDEOS JUST ROUND OF APPLAUSE ROUND OF APPLAUSE MY FRIENDS.

HONESTLY JUST A GIANT YES TO THIS ONE YESSSS.

4. Read a book yo.

HONESTLY JUST A GIANT NO TO THIS ONE HAHHAHAAAAAA.

ha.

h

a

I did not do this.

I’m sorry. OKAY WAIT BUT.

I finished reading what @sssoto has written in her WIP RENAISSANCE so that totally counts right. Yeah. Yeah totally. (GREAT BOOK.)

5. Finish another character portrait

Honestly Rachel, slay your life right now, just slay it because guess who did this... I think I did this in July? But I painted @sarahkelsiwrites‘ character Delilah from her WIP STICK PEOPLE. Hopefully I did this in July.

I mean I don't mind this, but I liked Sarah’s sketch better. Which looked like:

I also painted Lonan (again) this month:

I was also trying to be a nice person by surprising @sarahkelsiwrites with a painting of Simon from STICK PEOPLE (which she doesn't know about) and then it started looking like Clifford but right now it looks like a Simon Clifford morph and I just quit with this painting:

I sketched Simon a looooong time ago traditionally, so went in Krita to adjust it to look less shitty and then Clifford showed up and I quit. Also looks like Ben. So. Goddammit Benjamin.

Surprise @sarahkelsiwrites.

6. Write at least 100 words in the I’M DISAPPOINTED short story.

OKAY so this goal.

I’m kind of probably most likely going to scrap this goal.

My goal for this year was to write two books and a short story, buuuuuut here’s the thing... GREAT things (sort of) have happened in the development of I’M DISAPPOINTED, and I’ll go more in depth in my writing update, but I just... don’t feel comfortable writing this short story until I fix that book. This is because the changes I've come up with will most likely change a lot of character motivations etc towards the end of the book, and since this short story comes after that, I just don't know. I want to write this thing so much, but I just can’t write it without patching up the book first. With that said, if a short story presents itself for me to write, I’ll still keep this goal under my belt, buuuuuuuut yes. So rip goal 2k17.

So that was it for this month! I did a lot better than I thought I would. Here are my goals for August:

1. Hit 140k in FOSTERED #5

It’s kind of nuts to jump from last month’s goal of hitting 100k to 140k, but I’m almost at 120k now, and I usually aim for 10k a month, soooo...

2. Outline more of ALANNIS, and like maybe try to finish it, though I mean this isn’t going to happen, so yeah, just work on it pls

PLEASE.

3. Upload another video.

4. Read a book yo.

DUUUUUDE PLEAAAAASE IT’S BEEN LIKE 2 MONTHS.

5. Finish another character portrait

6. STOP IGNORING I’M DISAPPOINTED.

So. Since getting these new ideas for I’M DISAPPOINTED, I’ve been highkey ignoring this book and pretending it doesn't exist... My actual goal for August is to stop avoiding this book. That doesn't mean working on it. That just means pls just acknowledge it’s a thing pls.

So I think that’s all I want to do... If I could finish FOSTERED #5 in August, that’d be great but also I don't know if it would because I still haven't finished planning ALANNIS so then I’d be stuck writing nothing oh my siiigh.

ALSO HAPPY BIRTHDAY FOSTER AND JULIAN CASABLANCAS BECAUSE BOTH OF YOU HAVE THE SAME BIRTHDAY APPARENTLY AND I HAD NO IDEA MOSTLY HAPPY BIRTHDAY JULES WHO CARES ABOUT FOSTER. (Their birthday is August 23rd, so I’m just putting this here since it will be long gone when I write my August update so yes happy one month in advance birthday.)

Here’s a cake @sarahkelsiwrites, @imdisappointed and I made for Foster two years ago:

To very briefly explain why the cake says quinoa

- Sarah, Ashley and I (and frankly let’s throw in everyone who ever meets Foster ever especially Harrison) have this thing where we enjoy making fun of Foster and his niceness. One thing we constantly joke about is his love for healthy things one would deem ‘boring’ (and by one I mean Harrison), so quinoa was something we used to say often in 2015 to mock this poor, nice boy. We’re terrible people. I actually quite enjoy quinoa. So. (This is just all in good fun.)

Some quinoa excerpts (keep in mind these were written in 2015, which means I was 13, I also haven't edited them at all):

“Okay, that’s it.” Foster says with another grin. “You’re in on this too. Because I personally want to laugh in your face when I see exactly what all of those waffles are doing to Your Royal Fatness.” 

“Fine,” Harrison agrees with a grin. “Though let me tell you, dear Fosever. Eating all of that quinoa from the looks of it, sure as hell isn’t helping.”

ROASTED

“Reeve, you actually might be making the greatest choice of your life right now, because from the looks of it, Fosever still looks twelve.” 

“Says the guy with a secret shrine of Spiderman action figures stuffed in his pockets.” Foster snaps back, the warmth of him passing closer to me swishing by in a half of a second. 

“Go eat your goddamn quinoa, Fosever.” Harrison snaps.

DYING FOSEVER STILL LOOKS TWELVE HAAAAAHA

and:

From next to him, Ris grunts over his steaming waffles, a full mouth when he turns his face toward Lonan who’s got the same laptop in front of his face, furiously tapping at the keyboard as he concentrates. 

Harrison actually reaches over and slams the lid shut. 

“Hey asshole,” he says around his mouthful of waffle. “Put the fucking technology away, and be a little social.”

Lonan’s dead silent on the receiving end, and when I look closer at him, I realize it’s because his fists are tightly clenched and a vein in his forehead’s bulging. 

“That was three full days of work that you might’ve completely ruined!” Lonan hisses, eyes wide and angry as he stares at Harrison who’s scowling around his breakfast. 

“Anyway…” Foster continues awkwardly. “Basically, helping people is sometimes–” He’s cut off as a giant waffle is smothered up to his face, Harrison holding it out tauntingly. “What the hell are you doing?” 

“You know you want the waffle… Waffles...”  

“Okay,” Foster says with an irritated sigh, pushing away Harrison’s outstretched arm. “This is exactly why you’re going to die alone…” 

“And you’re going to marry quinoa–”

And a cake Sarah made for me for Foster’s birthday last year:

The sprinkles make out an F, and yes this was as cool as it sounds.

Fun fact: since Foster out of all of my characters is the only one who has a birthday in the summer [that I know of], it’s the only birthday we ever hardcore celebrate. Sorry everyone else.

This is what Harrison gets on his birthday:

(this was two years ago guess who didn't post about his birthday this year loooool)

and this is what lonan gets

(I wrote this on a table at my library. I wonder if it’s still there. Also two years ago, he got nothing this year.)

(Reeve never gets anything every year.)

(Foster why do you think you’re so special to get cake n shit on your birthday every year.)

(it’s because I’m bored in the summer)

(also I have nothing against quinoa.)

So that’s it for this update!

I hope you enjoyed. I love writing these things. Look out for my writing update which I’m going to draft right now... So hopefully it’ll be up by tomorrow!

Thanks so much for reading!

--Rachel

[livingwithashipname-blog]

Blindspot 2.13 Name Not One Man Episode Review (Screener TV)

If Weller’s another Shepherd pawn, the Roman/Jane debate just got a lot more interesting

You know that Nietzsche quote? The one that goes, “Whoever fights monsters should see to it that in the process he does not become a monster”?

The team has been considering it for a while, in many guises — but in “Name Not One Man” (Feb. 8), Kurt Weller (Sullivan Stapleton) comes to the unpleasant realization that a lot of people around him have been crossing a line or two — and baring a fang or claw in the process — to take care of business… And, of course, ultimately, to please their obsessed boss. Wells’ hawk-like focus on Sandstorm means he’s been missing out on some juicy peripheral activity… But then, those blinders do lead him to his quarry by episode’s end.

Patterson (Ashley Johnson) has been using illegally obtained surveillance data for decoding Jane’s tattoos, and Kurt’s furious to find out she’s waived ethical considerations for the sake of making progress (again: on the case he’s utterly obsessed with). And while she’s not in the right, coming down on her so hard — when he’s the one she’s helping — feels pretty unfair. Weller often plays running back on this show, awkwardly expositing the show’s intentions and messages, and this isn’t the first time we’ve seen him overreact in order to advance the plot, but it feels doubly foolhardy to put awesome, gentle Patterson in his crosshairs.

So as fans of the show, it’s encouraging, as odd as it sounds, to see her collapsed — in a manic, overly loyal, brain-fried heap of good intentions and scrappy determination — on the floor of her lab, by episode’s end. It underscores that his out-of-character behavior is actually out of character, and a good way to sum up exactly where every one of the episode’s threads intends to take us.

Another detail Weller’s overlooked until today: Some hard-working farmers are upset about the government’s steamroller approach toward completing the construction of a pipeline that threatens their family businesses. Points added for addressing DAPL; points deducted for essentially whitewashing them into simply “farmers,” and not the historically erased remnants of a proud culture that we continue to exterminate and ignore.

When ripping story from the headlines, to be fair, shows often do this: Like a dog looking at your finger, rather than where it’s pointing. But in this case, we’re talking about a show that is literally about pro-America terrorists working to dismantle the US government’s evil acts and structural iniquities — and never questions the validity of that, only the methods by which — and so to handwave one of the greatest and most immediate American evils is very queasy to think about. What we love about the show is also what the show itself is most proud of — its nuanced view of terror and corruption, right under our nose; its ability to create intimate connections out of often-abstract concepts; its transparent love of American ideals and authentic horror at their betrayal — and when the pieces fall like this, nobody wins.

Read more…