#butterfly writes

[marvelousbutterfly]

Who turned the temperature hotter? ('Cause I'm burnin' up)

Read on ao3

Peter being asleep when he’d usually go on patrol was odd enough, but his shivering form was what really made her concerned. He didn’t even stir as she felt for his temperature, and she couldn’t help but wince in sympathy at his warm skin. Or in which sickness and sensory issues don't mix.

Peter felt like shit. It started with a headache around the second period, so mild he couldn’t pinpoint it at first, but then it progressed throughout the day. Navigating the school hallways got harder and harder as the hours went by, his tired limbs protesting every move. Looking in the bathroom mirror after having splashed some water on his face, Peter noticed he - thankfully - didn’t look that bad, only a bit paler than usual. Still, his friends noticed something was up, if their worried glances were anything to go by.

At lunch, he laid his head on his arms, relieved by the cold surface of the cafeteria table.

“Are you sure you’re not hungry?” asked Ned.

Peter only grunted in response, not even looking up at the boy.

“Seriously, I’m taking you to the nurse” said MJ, “This has been going on for too long now.”

“‘M fine, just a headache” the boy retorted, trying to dodge her hand reaching for his face.

“And a fever” she retorted after feeling his temperature.

And she was right, but that didn’t stop Peter from being stubborn enough to endure the rest of the school day. It was a Monday, for Thor’s sake, he wasn’t about to start his week by missing chemistry class. His fever didn’t quite agree with his decision, though, as it only got worse. By the time he got home, all he could do was curl up on the couch and sleep.

______________________________________________________________

That’s how May found him hours later, coming back from her shift at the hospital. Peter being asleep when he’d usually go on patrol was odd enough, but his shivering form was what really made her concerned. He didn’t even stir as she felt for his temperature, and she couldn’t help but wince in sympathy at his warm skin.

She gathered everything she needed before gently squeezing the boy’s shoulder.

“Peter, baby,” she said quietly, “can you wake up for me?”

Peter groaned but complied, opening his eyes and looking at his aunt in confusion as he took in her concerned gaze.

“May?”

“Hi, honey. You have a fever. Can you sit up for me?” she asked, motioning for the medication on the coffee table.

The boy complied, but she couldn’t help but notice how he could barely hold himself upright, leaning heavily on the cushions. She handed him the medication created for his metabolism and he took it with no complaints, desperate to get rid of whatever was causing him to feel this bad.

The thing is, for Peter, getting sick was more than feeling icky and under the weather. Each symptom could easily trigger his sensory issues, not to mention how frustrating it was to not fully be able to determine what exactly were those symptoms. 

So for the next couple of hours, Peter whined in distress about the feeling of his feverish sweat all over him. And by the pont his stomach could no longer hold onto the crackers he had finally been able to eat at May’s insistence, a meltdown was inevitable. A very slow, agonizingly lethargic and painful meltdown. May tried her best to calm him down, but his high fever wasn’t helping with his ability to process her words, so all she could do was let him ride it out, and feel her heart break in the process.

He curled up on his bed under his weighted blanket, one hand by his mouth as he bit his knuckles - May had tried to get him to use one of his chewables, but Peter only gagged at the texture.

With a sigh, frustrated that the medication clearly wasn’t working, May pulled out her phone.

“Tony, I need your help.”

______________________________________________________________

Peter arrived at the Tower’s medbay with a 103 degree fever, an empty stomach and an aching body. After the doctors got him set up with an IV line and a quiet room, Tony finally got in.

“Hey buddy” he said quietly, closing the door behind him as he entered the room. “Not feeling too hot, huh?”

“I’m getting sick of this,” he deadpanned. “Pun intended.”

Tony snorted, sitting next to the hospital bed.

“The doctors got you some nice medication, it will help soon,” he reassured the boy and himself. “Do you need anything?”

“I need to not feel gross and sticky anymore” was Peter’s response, and Tony could see he was fighting the urge to scratch at his arms, which were already littered with scratch marks from minutes before.

“I’m sorry, underoos. Wish I could help with that.”

He could see the energy draining out of the kid, so he attempted to reassure him and lighten up the mood.

“Well, you heard the doc, though. Soon we’ll have the test results. Once we figure out what’s going on, we can make you feel better in no time” he assured. “In the meantime, we can watch any Star Wars movie you want to. I’ll grab the remote.”

“Great, ‘cause the force is definitely not with me at the moment.”

______________________________________________________________

And it wasn’t, indeed. Halfway through the movie, Peter had his second meltdown of the day, just as sluggish as the last one.

Tony cleaned the boy’s sweat with a smooth and cold cloth, knowing that the sensation of sweat all over his body was one of the aggravators of Peter’s current state. It  wasn’t an easy task, though, as Peter’s head kept going back and forth to slam into the thin mattress, pillow already forgotten on the floor where it had fallen minutes before. Tony winced in sympathy.

He didn’t even know how the kid had the energy to do that, as all his movements have been slow, his body having no strength to spare. His eyes were glazed over in a feverish haze and all he could do was whine and grunt to express his frustration.

“You gotta keep that there, buddy,” Tony said patiently, prying the boy’s hand away from the IV still in his arm, providing him with much needed fever reducers. He worried about how sluggish the kid’s movements were, though, as it had taken him about 5 attempts to finally reach the offending object.

Peter cried in frustration, moving his other arm so he could bite down into his fingers, head still banging onto the mattress below him.

“Stop stop stop, make it stop” he sobbed weakly, and Tony’s heart sank.

“I wish I could, kiddo” he lamented, “just a few more minutes and we’ll figure out what’s going on.”

“No more minutes, I can't,” the boy hiccuped.

Despite his pleas, it took 10 more minutes until Peter’s body finally lost all its energy, and he fell asleep with tear tracks still on his face. It only took 5 minutes after that for the doctors to come back with answers.

______________________________________________________________

“Pesticides?” asked May incredulously.

“I’m afraid so,” confirmed the tall brunette doctor. “We found traces of ethyl chloride in Mr. Parker’s system, along with other common components of pesticides. My team did some research and we got the information that his school has used such products over the weekend, and Mr. Parker must have had a reaction to its remnants, as his system is very sensitive to it.”

Tony and May looked at each other, not sure how to react. She was the first to break the silence, turning to the doctor once again.

“So what is our next step?” 

“Well, from the latest exam, it seems that Peter’s metabolism and his healing abilities have already taken care of the substance itself, but it took a strain on his body. The fever and vomiting were probably caused by his body trying to expel whatever was affecting him, so what’s left for us to do now is treat those symptoms. We’re keeping him on fluids and fever reducers still, as well as medication for his stomach. The ideal is that he’s able to eat tonight, or we’ll have to take some more drastic measures due to his fast metabolism.”

The lack of food and dehydration were indeed big concerns, Tony knew that. The boy was already so weak he could barely sit up on his own, and he’s seen firsthand what a couple days with not enough food did to his metabolism.

The doctor reassured them that, despite the concerns about his food intake, Peter was on the track to a speedy recovery. Tony and May thanked her, finally exhaling in relief as they at last knew what was wrong.

May returned to Peter’s room where he was still deeply asleep after his meltdown, and Tony decided to make himself useful by cooking him some soup, a recipe his mother used to make when he was ill.

The kid did manage to eat about five spoonfuls of the broth before pushing the bowl in Tony’s hands away from him, turning his head the other way.

“You have to eat, kiddo.”

“No more” he cried weakly in response, hands shaking, “please.”

“Okay, we can try again later” Tony gave in.

‘Later’ turned out to be early afternoon of the next day, as Peter slept all throughout the night. It was a relief, as he didn’t have to go through any more meltdowns during that time. Overnight, his fever finally broke, and May was quick to help clean the sweat it caused, hoping to avoid any more distress for her nephew.

The doctors kept him in observation for the day, only letting him go upstairs to the living room once he had managed to eat half a bowl of soup. Their orders were that he get more rest and drink water to avoid getting dehydrated once again.

Ned and MJ visited him after school, and although Peter was quiet and would doze off from time to time mid-conversation, they stayed with him until he actually fell asleep.

May sipped on her tea in the corner of the room as she watched the two teens whisper their goodbyes to their sleeping friend. Between them, herself, and the man currently asleep on the smaller couch while holding a 3D model of an ethyl chloride molecule he was converting into a stim toy, Peter had a good support system. They would be okay.

[butterflies-and-roaches]

You maybe wanna share some of em baby? (This is from the poem thing btw)

alright babes, if you asked so nicely you shall receive :>>

(full thing under the cut cuz it's a bit longer)

19. “me too” (26.02.24)

Hands around you

You’re not slipping

Ghostly fingertips hold you in place

And it’s enough

The stillness.

It moves you

Current like fuzzy liquid

And it’s warm and it feels soft

It’s so soft it’s almost intangible.

It grounds you.

All it took was a “me too”

All you needed was an “I get it”

And it’s ironic how fast you lose your composure

It’s almost damming

How you let go of all your safeguards

How protection is not needed anymore.

Find comfort in pathetic vulnerability

Laughing your tears away ‘cause it’s been this simple all along

Sit still and breathe

Right now you’re battle is not fought alone.

And you’re not floating away

But you feel lighter

And stillness hasn’t felt more comfortable

But you are craving movement.

You are craving action.

Smiling like an idiot

Because you can’t help it

And maybe you’re completely alone in your space

But those hands are still holding you

From their own aloneness.

It’s a feeling of relief

A state of easiness

A little moment of respite during the struggle

But your whole reality feels bright with color.

The quiet and an embrace

And a grieving soul finding rest.

(this is ab that feeling of recognition, when two people find out they have the same struggle and embrace each other as they are, not trying to solve or change anything, a "looser baby" moment if you will)

[nine-aetharia]

i need swifties to shut the fuck up about 'oh so kendrick's disses can be analyzed for hidden meanings but we can't do the same for taylor songs' yeah bc that's not isolated to kendrick. subliminals and entendres abound in rap. taylor swift songs are as deep as a puddle while youre wearing flip flops and your feet still arent wet

[wingsandfeather]

[mournfulroses]

Mahmoud Darwish, tr. by Fady Joudah, from The Butterfly's Burden; "The Subsistence of Birds,"

[lyingtomythrpist]

[wasyago]

kakashi and bull 🥺🤲

[anitalenia]

⋆.˚⟡⊹₊⋆ 𝙋𝙄𝙉𝙆 𝘿𝙄𝙑𝙄𝘿𝙀𝙍𝙎 ✧˖°. ݁₊

♡ྀིྀི⋆.˚ 𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒊𝒎𝒂𝒈𝒆 . . .

‧₊˚ ✧ coquette dividers 𝐈 . ﾟ

‧₊˚ ✧ coquette dividers 𝐈𝐈, 𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘵𝘦 . ﾟ

‧₊˚ ✧ coquette dividers 𝐈𝐈𝐈, 𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘬, 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘵𝘦, 𝘥𝘢𝘴𝘩 𝘰𝘧 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘸𝘯 . ﾟ

‧₊˚ ✧ strawberry girl dividers 𝐈 . ﾟ

‧₊˚ ✧ pink symbol dividers 𝐈 . ﾟ

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‧₊˚ ✧ coquette deer dividers 𝐈 . ﾟ

‧₊˚ ✧ coquette deer & bunny dividers 𝐈 . ﾟ

‧₊˚ ✧ gray + pink masterlist pack . ﾟ

‧₊˚ ✧ cutegore dividers 𝐈 . ﾟ

‧₊˚ ✧ pink kuromi dividers . ﾟ

‧₊˚ ✧ neapolitan dividers 𝐈 . ﾟ

‧₊˚ ✧ pink & white cinnamoroll dividers . ﾟ

‧₊˚ ✧ minimalistic heart dividers 𝐈 . ﾟ

‧₊˚ ✧ red & pink simple heart dividers 𝐈 . ﾟ

‧₊˚ ✧ pink lace dividers 𝐈 . ﾟ

‧₊˚ ✧ intricate pink dividers 𝐈 . ﾟ

‧₊˚ ✧ pink & blue dividers 𝐈 . ﾟ

‧₊˚ ✧ black & magenta dividers 𝐈 . ﾟ

‧₊˚ ✧ pink & purple dividers 𝐈 . ﾟ

‧₊˚ ✧ pink and green dividers 𝐈 . ﾟ

‧₊˚ ✧ pink and white dividers 𝐈 . ﾟ

‧₊˚ ✧ pink and white dividers 𝐈𝐈 . ﾟ

‧₊˚ ✧ pink and white dividers 𝐈𝐈𝐈 . ﾟ

‧₊˚ ✧ pink and white dividers 𝐈𝐈𝐈𝐈 . ﾟ

‧₊˚ ✧ pink & black dividers 𝐈 . ﾟ

‧₊˚ ✧ pink & black dividers 𝐈𝐈, + 𝘨𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘥𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘴, 𝘨𝘪𝘧 𝘥𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘳 . ﾟ

‧₊˚ ✧ pink & black dividers 𝐈𝐈𝐈 . ﾟ

‧₊˚ ✧ pink & gold dividers 𝐈 . ﾟ

‧₊˚ ✧ random pink dividers 𝐈 . ﾟ

‧₊˚ ✧ random pink dividers 𝐈𝐈 . ﾟ

‧₊˚ ✧ random pink dividers 𝐈𝐈𝐈 . ﾟ

‧₊˚ ✧ pink lace & ribbon dividers . ﾟ

‧₊˚ ✧ pink & white welcome headers + matching dividers . ﾟ

‧₊˚ ✧ pink imvu dividers / headers 𝐈 . ﾟ

‧₊˚ ✧ pink imvu dividers / headers 𝐈𝐈 . ﾟ

‧₊˚ ✧ pink imvu dividers / headers 𝐈𝐈𝐈 . ﾟ

‧₊˚ ✧ pink imvu dividers / headers 𝐈𝐈𝐈𝐈 . ﾟ

‧₊˚ ✧ pink & purple mdni dividers 𝐈 . ﾟ

‧₊˚ ✧ pink mdni dividers 𝐈 . ﾟ

‧₊˚ ✧ pink mdni dividers 𝐈𝐈 . ﾟ

‧₊˚ ✧ pink mdni dividers 𝐈𝐈𝐈 . ﾟ

‧₊˚ ✧ pink borders 𝐈 . ﾟ

‧₊˚ ✧ my melody bow and wings dividers + 𝘨𝘪𝘧 𝘥𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘴 . ﾟ

‧₊˚ ✧ pink sanrio dividers 𝐈, + 𝘨𝘪𝘧 𝘥𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘳 . ﾟ

‧₊˚ ✧ pink butterfly dividers 𝐈, + 𝘨𝘪𝘧 𝘥𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘴 . ﾟ

‧₊˚ ✧ pink & brown dividers 𝐈, + 𝘨𝘪𝘧 𝘥𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘴 . ﾟ

‧₊˚ ✧ hot pink dividers 𝐈, + 𝘨𝘪𝘧 𝘥𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘳 . ﾟ

‧₊˚ ✧ pink & orange summer & ocean dividers 𝐈, + 𝘨𝘪𝘧 𝘥𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘳 . ﾟ

‧₊˚ ✧ chaotic sanrio inspired dividers + 1 𝘣𝘭𝘶𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘳 . ﾟ

‧₊˚ ✧ divider dump 𝐈 , 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘶𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘥𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘴, 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵 & 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳 𝘥𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘴 . ﾟ

‧₊˚ ✧ divider dump 𝐈𝐈, + 𝘨𝘪𝘧 𝘥𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘴, 𝘧𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴, 𝘬𝘦𝘦𝘱 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘯𝘦𝘸𝘴, 𝘣𝘶𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘧𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘴, 𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘤. . ﾟ

♡ྀིྀི⋆.˚ 𝒂𝒏𝒊𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒅 . . .

‧₊˚ ✧ pink sparkle dividers 𝐈 . ﾟ

‧₊˚ ✧ my melody bow and wings dividers + 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘪𝘮𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘴 . ﾟ

‧₊˚ ✧ pink & orange summer & ocean dividers 𝐈, + 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘪𝘮𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘴 . ﾟ

‧₊˚ ✧ pink butterfly dividers 𝐈, + 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘪𝘮𝘢𝘨𝘦𝘴 . ﾟ

‧₊˚ ✧ hot pink dividers 𝐈, + 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘪𝘮𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘴 . ﾟ

‧₊˚ ✧ pink & brown dividers 𝐈, + 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘪𝘮𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘴 .

‧₊˚ ✧ pink sanrio dividers 𝐈, + 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘪𝘮𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘴 . ﾟ

‧₊˚ ✧ animated divider dump 𝐈, 𝘴𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘬𝘭𝘦 𝘨𝘪𝘧𝘴, 𝘬𝘦𝘦𝘱 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘨𝘪𝘧𝘴, 𝘮𝘥𝘯𝘪 𝘨𝘪𝘧 . ﾟ

‧₊˚ ✧ animated divider dump 𝐈𝐈, 𝘴𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘬𝘭𝘦 𝘨𝘪𝘧𝘴, 𝘣𝘶𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘧𝘭𝘺 & 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘥𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘴 . ﾟ

‧₊�� ✧ divider dump 𝐈𝐈𝐈, + 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘪𝘮𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘴 . ﾟ

♡ྀིྀི⋆.˚ 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 𝒅𝒊𝒗𝒊𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒔 . . .

‧₊˚ ✧ one . ﾟ‧₊˚ ✧ two . ﾟ‧₊˚ ✧ three . ﾟ‧₊˚ ✧ four . ﾟ

‧₊˚ ✧ five . ﾟ‧₊˚ ✧ six . ﾟ‧₊˚ ✧ seven . ﾟ‧₊˚ ✧ eight .

‧₊˚ ✧ nine . ﾟ‧₊˚ ✧ ten . ﾟ‧₊˚ ✧ eleven . ﾟ

‧₊˚ ✧ twelve . ﾟ‧₊˚ ✧ thirteen . ﾟ‧₊˚ ✧ fourteen . ﾟ

‧₊˚ ✧ fifteen . ﾟ‧₊˚ ✧ sixteen . ﾟ‧₊˚ ✧ seventeen . ﾟ

‧₊˚ ✧ eighteen . ﾟ‧₊˚ ✧ nineteen . ﾟ

[mabelsdesk]

wax seal set ♡ buy here

[idontmindifuforgetme]

I genuinely love not having a crush like I’m not over here feeling physically sick over some mid guy being dry to me I’m literally chilling

[marvelousbutterfly]

You'll never make it like that (too bad) - Chapter 1

Peter's sensory issues applied to what he ate as well, to the point where it affected his day to day life. This is 5 times Peter's selective eating fucked him over + 1 time he knew how to handle it.

(To clarify - Peter's issues with food are related to his sensory issues, so he's selective based on textures, color, size, taste, smell and other aspects of food.)

Read on ao3

1

When Peter turned 8, he had a small, science-themed party at home. Ben and May made the most of what they had for the decoration, with a table full of test tubes filled with candy and beakers as jars of juice. They all wore lab coats made by May, and Ben provided some pairs of safety goggles to complete the costumes.

The next thing they had to decide on was the cake. May had absolutely no skills in the kitchen, and although Ben could cook delicious meals, he had no experience with baking and he wasn’t about to risk testing it on his nephew’s birthday. So a store bought cake was the best option, they concluded. It would be a very small party - only the 3 of them, Ned and his parents, plus a couple neighbors -, so a simple grocery store sheet cake would be enough and fit right in their budget. 

Peter was very specific with what he ate. He’d always order the same things from the same places, rarely willing to try something new. When it came to cakes, he liked chocolate, carrot or plain vanilla. He couldn’t stand marble cake - the mix of both colors bothered him. With that in mind, plus a list of the grocery stores Peter liked best, the couple was prepared for their last task. While May took the boy to the library, Ben would go to the places in the list in search for the perfect cake for their kid. Ben managed to get a plain chocolate cake from Peter’s favorite store, and although there was a sticker announcing it was a “new, improved recipe”, he thought nothing of it - how much could a simple chocolate sheet cake change?

The party went well - although there weren’t many people, Peter had fun. He and Ned were excited as ever with the decoration, and both squealed happily when Ben gifted the birthday boy a chemistry kit for children. Then, it was time for the cake and Peter had a smile from ear to ear.

Once they sang happy birthday and the cake was served, guests and hosts alike sat down, talking quietly as they ate the dessert. May frowned as she noticed Peter stopped eating, staring at the cake slice on his plate almost as if he was offended by it, his mouth obviously still full. When she noticed his complexion turning green, she cursed under her breath and rushed to him just as he started gagging. 

Ben soon understood what was happening, quickly calling Ned over and keeping the conversation with his neighbors going to spare Peter the unnecessary attention as May coaxed him into spitting the mouthful of cake into a napkin and took him to the bathroom to rinse his mouth. But Ben’s efforts weren’t enough, as the others soon turned their heads to see the commotion when Peter began crying loudly.

“No no no no no” he sobbed, voice getting louder and louder with each word, “Bad cake.”

As May tried her best to calm him down, Ben took care of the guests, who looked incredulously at him.

“He’s throwing a tantrum because he didn’t like the cake?” asked Mrs. Thomas, one of their neighbors. “Isn’t he a bit too old for that?”

“It’s been a long day for him,” the man said, “you know how they can get cranky.”

The truth was, Ben was still trying to understand Peter and some of his mannerisms. He was sure most of it stemmed from the trauma of having lost his parents at such a young age, and he and May were working on taking him to a child psychologist once again. 

The party quickly came to an end, with Ben trying his best to defend Peter from the guests’ judgment. Ned’s family were the last people to leave, kindly reassuring Ben after his many apologies.

As it turned out, the “new, improved recipe” the grocery store had come up with for the chocolate cake included rice krispies in the filling to add a crunchy texture to it. A texture, as May and Ben would later learn, Peter was not expecting to be on a cake. With time, all three of them learned to accommodate the boy’s needs better.

[butterflies-and-roaches]

Thou art not just mere poetic rambles, They are a hint, a secret message to my heart. I only hope this won't leave me with it in shambles I want thou all to understand my art. Your words are flattering and enchanting, They have me filled with awe and hope. Seeds of which we've all been planting. Let's all burn brighter than a strobe.

- Flower Anon

And you fleeting stranger

The one who walks on flowery paths

Fill the day with rays and blossoms

Do not shy away from your light

It's a reciprocal thing

You know

Endless cycle

Nothing lasts

But for now i'll plant my seed besides yours

Let's hope whatever grows

Will see the stars

[ghostbsuter]

Honestly, when bart came back to the past for his mission, he didn't expect to see one of his friends he left behind.

So excuse him for standing still and gaping like an idiot at the clearly looking teenager on his phone.

"Danny?!"

At the call, the stranger– his bestie— looked up.

"Bart!"

It is his friend.

The same black haired, too blue eyed teen with baby fat clinging to his cheeks, the same way his hair appears white and eyes green when unfocused and not paying attention.

Holy shit.

"How are you in the 21st century?!?!"

The boy merely blinks, looks down on his phone, and then looks up again.

"I should be asking you that! How are you here??"

"Timetravel duh! What's your excuse?!"

"I'm immortal???"

(It's similar to the spiderman meme, truly.)

(Bart is slightly glad none of his teammates or mentor or family members are here.)

—

It became somewhat of a game for them.

Everytime the speedster appeared in a different year, hell even universe for the kicks, the first thing he does is search for Danny.

(The teen is there, each time.)

And every time he succeeded, Danny helps him with the problem, or slightly nudges him to the path really.

(Each time bart worries less for the time stream and disturbances, his friend seems to be outside of it to truly bring harm.)

(And if he meets Clockwork along the way, that's a secret between them. And the part where he gets hired for the similar stuff danny gets sent to the past.)

(For them it's a casual Wednesday. So what if they just saved an entire planet? Its nothing big!)

—

Bart should have thought more over the decision to help the literal being of time itself.

Considering he is currently seated on a chair, Barry, Wally and dozen of other heroes (including his team standing behind him in an effort to show their support.) With demands of an explanation.

Damn it danny, why did you let those in the 13th century paint a portrait of them!!!

And the apparent ancient Egyptian art of them too?? In a museum??

What the hell danny!!! Way to throw him under the bus!!

[somedayillbepeterpan]

I have gone down this rabbit hole now and I'm afraid I'm never getting out. I hope I give justice to this. And sorry if this is long.

I've seen a lot of the Colin and Marina vs. Colin and Penelope analyses in here and I want to raise this parallel as to how the Butterfly ball was such a powerful move for both Penelope and Colin. We all have our issues with how they handled Pen and Colin finding their way back to each other but let me add this perspective and hope it helps us understand how real they handled the issue of LW and pushed the character development for them both.

The scene on the left is from S01e06 (Swish) and the right is S03e08 (Into the Light)

S1 scene - Violet is still in her dressing gown, obviously distraught having just read something from LW. She hears someone come down and finds Colin.

S3 scene - Violet is dressed for the morning and her face looks a combination of surprise and confusion after reading a letter. She turns around when she hears someone coming down the stairs.

In both scenes, we see Colin coming down the stairs.

S1 - we only see Colin's back. We're in suspense on what emotional state he is in but we do know that he's on his way to elope with Marina.

In S3 - we see Colin's face immediately looking determined and ready. We see Violet calling his name quite urgently.

S1 - Colin sees his mother's face looking like a combination of disappointment and anger. He asks what's happening. She doesn't say anything but just looks at Colin with a sadness that only a mother can give.

S3 - Violet pointedly says that she received a letter from Colin's wife (I love this line so much) that sounds awfully like "I need you to explain what's happening right now."

S1 - Violet hands Colin LW without saying anything and just looks so so so sad. Colin is shocked to his core because we learn that LW (Pen) exposes Marina's pregnancy and that she has been pregnant from the beginning of the season.

S3 - Colin determinedly faces his mother telling her that they had better sit. And I'm guessing that Colin tells her everything.

Where am I going with this? (Gosh, doing an analysis is hard 😂)

The first time Colin fell in love (thought he fell in love), he was blindsided. But I believe the pain he felt at that time was made deeper because his family had to save him from the situation (Anthony explaining that his actions in the scandal will affect his sisters' prospects as well). To think that it was his mother who first learned of the situation added salt to the wound because we all know that he is a mama's boy and that the one person he dislikes letting down is his mother.

The second (and last time) Colin falls in love, he once again feels betrayed. But he's fallen in love so deeply that he can't imagine his life without Pen. The struggle he goes through in understanding his emotions was very hard to watch and it's because the issue goes beyond his and Pen's relationship. It extends to his family.

Colin's hero complex goes beyond feeling worthy of Pen's love but also worthy of the Bridgerton name. We see it several times in S3 when he mentions it in his confrontation with Portia (" I advise you not to sully our Bridgerton name...") and when Pen tells him that Cressida discovered her secret ("It will besmirch our Bridgerton name. The entire family").

The whole sequence in the study is now more significant because of what Pen addresses in their conversation-- Colin's family ("Your family... the one you so kindly shared with me, they are too good").

Pen's "sacrifice" ("But I can no longer conceal the biggest piece of information I have. My identity."), I believe, was to save the Bridgerton family (once again) and she asks Colin to stand by her as she formulates and executes this plan.

It was very important that Pen wrote a letter to Violet directly and that Colin was there right after she's read it to explain everything. From this point on, they were a team. From this point on, Colin moves in parallel with Pen instead of against it. Colin finally sees that version of Pen that she's always been even while she was LW-- the person who was always determined to save his family just as much as he does.

From this point on, their goals were aligned.

10 rewatches after, I finally see how Colin found his way back to Pen. It wasn't very obvious to me how he got over the feelings of betrayal after he discovered Pen was LW. Of course, him reading the letters help but the events leading up to the Butterfly ball, helped him see her as both Pen and Lady Whistledown and the overflowing pride we see on his face was heart-melting to watch.

From this point on, they finally see each other eye to eye. From this point on, they finally accept this version of each other.

If you got to the end, thanks for reading my humble musings.

*Editing to add this: The Butterfly Ball deep dive series

[lightseoul]

CHAPTER 5 | ALL OUT OF LUCK

w.c. 3.5k

tags. fem!reader, pro-hero!katsuki, aged-up (26), some cussing here and there, presence of breadcrumbs if you look close enough, dark and mature themes related to quirk supremacy

a/n. i'm back! thank you for waiting patiently for this chapter. i haven't had the time to sit down and lock in on writing until yesterday, but i hope the wait is worth it! important plot points will be discussed in this chapter, so i hope this one is a fun one for y'all!

links. masterlist, ao3 (coming soon)

Sooner came later than you wished it would.

After that late-night conversation with Bakugou where he implicitly emboldened you to exhibit patience, you really made it a point to double down on the entire charade. You’ve attended as many activities as you could with the pro-hero, made a good impression on your fellow members, and even gone as far as constantly initiating affectionate behavior with Bakugou, to which he’s been getting better at responding.

So much so that he’s bordering dangerous.

There’s been that singular instance where he ushered you to the cafeteria after one of your quirk training sessions—like a gentleman—a big, firm hand planted on the small of your back. It wasn’t a huge gesture, but it was the first coming from him without prompting ever since you had to start acting like a couple. You’d be lying if you said it didn’t catch you off guard, but you played it off well enough, shooting him a grateful smile as you reached your usual table.

He only looked away, solemn.

You shrugged it off, thinking everyone had to start somewhere.

And while little moments like that have helped in taking your mind off of how routinary your days have been, the fact of the matter is: said patience is thinning.

You didn’t have to look far for proof either to know that Bakugou’s experiencing the same thing.

He’s been doing a decent job at regulating his emotions, as well as acting in front of everyone else to play his part, but when the trackers are long gone and cameras are sealed shut, and you’re in the privacy of your shared bedroom, that’s when he puts the mask down.

You could tell he’s been trying to remain kind—or at least, civil—with you, but there’s no denying the increased curtness of his responses, as well as how he’s been extra grumpy when roused in the mornings by either of the twins.

And you can’t blame him—you really can’t.

You yourself were just about to mentally give up and accept that you’re never going to get on with the mission at this rate when it comes on a regular evening.

You shoot up from where you were sprawled lazily across the mattress, alarmed. You glance at Bakugou, who’s already looking at you from the couch, that same caution you know is written all over your face etched on his.

Two weeks of living here, and the impending cardiac arrest that comes with a barrage of unexpected knocks still prove to be a probable cause of death for the both of you.

Wordlessly and without your behest, Bakugou grabs his pillow and blanket before throwing them beside you on the bed. You’re quick to adjust them into place as he slowly walks towards the door, another round of rapping resounding from the entryway.

Probably over the whole hammering thing just as much as you are, Bakugou promptly turns the knob and swings the slab of wood open, revealing a serious Omiru.

She speaks up almost instantly, but not without first glaring you both daggers. “The boss’s office. Now.”

And before she turns on her heel or either of you can ask any questions: “We’re gonna discuss the plan.”

The first thing you notice when you get to Masaki’s office a few minutes later is that for a large organization’s leader, the space is—just like its owner—remarkably…plain.

Similar to your small bedroom, the walls are colored off-white, the floor is dark hardwood, and there are very minimal decorations. Aside from the picture frames of what seems to be a family of four littered on his modestly sized desk, the room is pretty bare in terms of embellishments.

You don’t get to take a closer look at the photographs, though, because the second thing then catches your attention: how, rather than plastered leisurely on the sofa and conversing with each other, the three heads actually seem busy.

While, in fact, seated on the couch, Sayaka and Kouki are far from being relaxed. They’re sitting on the edge of their seats, hunched over what seems to be a…chart? You don’t get to peer at that, either, because their bodies are blocking the view.

So, instead, you let your gaze drift over to the main man himself, who is behind his workspace and has his back turned against you, fiddling with what you think is a push pin as he stares at the large corkboard in front of him.

“Bakugou and his girlfriend, sir,” Omiru announces before you. “Just as you requested.”

At the sound of her low voice, Masaki turns around, a pleasant expression on his face. “Welcome, you two. Please, go and grab a seat.”

You quickly scan the room for said seat, but there aren’t any more vacancies aside from the set of furniture the cyborg and the old man are occupying. So, albeit begrudgingly, you quietly follow Bakugou as he takes a few steps and sits down across the two, with you plopping yourself beside him.

The man next to you clears his throat.

“Is there any reason why we’re being summoned at,” Bakugou pauses, checking his watch, “9:27 PM?”

Playing it cool and not at all eager, huh?

You can do that as well.

Feigning ignorance, you look at Masaki as he rounds his desk and situates himself on the single sofa perpendicular to the four of you.

“Apologies for that,” the man starts diffidently. “I’ve been…busy with things at home, and now’s the only time I have to discuss this with you for the next few days.”

“Are you finally telling me what my role is?” asks Bakugou, manspreading as he brings an arm on top of the backrest behind you. “Because if you are, then fucking finally.”

“Yes,” answers the plain-looking man, “We’ll get to that. But before that, I’ll have to preface this meeting by making sure we’re all on the same page.”

“As you all know, our vision here in The Quirk Coalition is for a future where quirks are cultivated to their greatest potential and are regarded with the highest primacy in society. That means those who can wield their strong powers will take their rightful place in the community and reap the benefits of their gifts,” Masaki pauses, before looking at you and Bakugou. “Do you see where I’m going with this?”

You nod, pushing against the dread that’s creeping up your spine. You feel Bakugou stir beside you.

He continues.

“For the gifted to fully enjoy what they deserve, we’re going to have to remodel society to serve those with formidable quirks. After all, it’s them who serve as the pillars of our nation that’s constantly under the threat of malicious villains.”

Villains like you, you think to yourself. You bite your tongue.

Masaki then leans forward, a sinister look dawning on his features.

“That then, my dearest members, leaves no space for those who are weak and quirkless. As such, we’ve taken upon the difficult but noble duty to eliminate those who are such. This is necessary, so as to be able to rebuild a world that’s suited to the beauty that are quirks.”

Silence.

“…All this yappin’ yet I still don’t know what kinda action I’ll get?” spews Bakugou.

You mentally facepalm.

“Right,” retorts Masaki, “I appreciate the enthusiasm, Dynamight. You’ll be glad to know that you play an important role in the whole scheme of things.”

“We’ll essentially be using those bombs of yours, boy,” Kouki chimes in, catching the rest of your attention. “There was no way for us to procure munitions without alerting the government, so we’re going to have to use the ones you produce with your quirk.”

“That’s it?” Bakugou spits out, performing for his life. “You’re just gonna make me into a factory? Don’t I get to blow things up myself?”

“You can’t without exposing yourself,” comes Masaki’s level-headed reply. “That’s what our volunteering members are for. They’ll be carrying your bombs with you and infiltrate the venues.”

“Volunteers?” you can’t help but ask, voice small. You feel Bakugou’s eyes boring at the side of your face. “Are you saying they’re…?”

“Going to die in the line of duty, unfortunately, yes.”

“But aren’t they going to be detected?” you push, tamping down the panic that’s blooming in your gut. “Most places here in Japan have radars that can easily spot a grenade.”

Masaki smiles at you.

You feel goosebumps rise in its wake.

“I appreciate your concern, sweetheart, but we’ve made sure our targets are free of such devices.”

You let the confusion show on your features.

How can that be?

This has to be a joke, or this man has to be bluffing.

But why would he, if he needed the two of you—or at least, Bakugou—to execute his plan?

His choice of victims ought to be sheltered in secured skyscrapers or guard-riddled complexes, neither of which would tolerate the presence of explosives.

Unless…

You chance a glance past Masaki’s shoulder and onto the corkboard he was just studying a moment ago.

And when you do, you barely manage to fight back a terrified gasp as your eyes land on the rows of photographs that are pinned onto the panel.

Because staring right back at you are tens of faces of children.

“…Y/N?”

You snap to attention, turning to regard the concerned faces looking at you. “Huh?”

“You okay, babe?” comes Bakugou’s gruff voice, and you barely register the hand that slithers through the space between you to encase yours in a gentle hold.

You shift to meet the pro-hero in the eye. You find yourself glad you’re sitting down, because the sheer intensity of his gaze is enough to knock you off your feet.

“You zoned out there for a second,” he explains, shooting you a boyish smile, although it comes out slightly stilted.

“Yeah, no, I’m alright,” you try to laugh, “Sorry, I guess I’m just sleepy.”

“Are you sure she needs to be part of this conversation?” asks Kouki, who’s looking a bit too unsettled for your taste. “Masaki, I think you can send her back to their room if she needs to rest.”

“No,” you quickly interject, “I’m fine! I want to be here.”

You flash them the most sincere grin you can muster. “I want to help.”

“She’s the real deal,” Bakugou adds, to your relief. “Her quirk can make a huge difference in how successful your whole operation will be.”

On that note, and just like last time, you prepare yourself to utilize your quirk when none of them say anything for a beat. You maintain your carefree countenance as you wait for your go signal, but it never comes.

What comes, instead, is a decisive nod from Masaki.

“Very well, she can stay. But no more tangents, please. We need to get this ironed out.”

You nod eagerly. The man deems it enough for him to go on.

“Now that we’ve established Bakugou’s role in this entire enterprise, it’s high time we go through the actual plans.”

He gestures to the blueprint-sized chart on the coffee table in front of you. “As you can see here, we have ten circles. Each circle represents a target elementary school. One volunteer—”

Suicide bomber, you note in your head.

“—will be assigned to each school, armed with an ample number of bombs courtesy of Dynamight. Groups of at least six members of the organization will also be appointed per target to assist the volunteers and capture escapees if necessary. They’ll be teleported to their respective venues via their portkeys.”

Before you can even think of asking what the hell a portkey is, Kouki beats you to it.

“They’re devices,” he declares haughtily. “Magnetic devices, to be more precise.”

He holds out his thin wrists, which you now notice are adorned with silver bands made up of thin, rectangular pieces that stick to his wrinkly skin.

“Each member has a piece themselves, which pairs with the ones I have here,” he wiggles his hand for emphasis. “This is how we do mass teleportation.”

“Thank you, Kouki-san,” Masaki interrupts, before pointing again at the chart. “Now that we have that cleared up, I’d like to invite you to look at this portion.”

“While the rest of the members execute the plan at the ten locations, Kouki, Sayaka, and Bakugou will be in the headquarters overlooking the entire thing, while Y/N and I will be in the Prime Minister’s Office executing the final blow.”

A wave of terror instantly hits you just as Bakugou bristles in his seat.

“The fuck are you on, separating us?”

Despite the nausea pooling in your stomach, you still manage to register the contortion of Masaki’s features into a frown.

“You gave me the idea, Bakugou. You said your girlfriend here boosts one’s success rate, and I need all the help I can get to make sure I wipe out the entire office and elect a new set of like-minded officers.”

“I don’t give a fuck,” comes Bakugou’s hostile response. “She could get hurt, and I need to be there to protect her.”

If you weren’t in a literal life-or-death situation, you would’ve snorted at that.

But alas, you are, and the last thing you feel like doing right now is laughing.

So instead, you squeeze the hand that’s been holding yours since what has felt like forever ago, shrinking in yourself ever so slightly to seem afraid and to further sell the act.

You avert your gaze downwards, too, to make them feel like the alpha in the situation, but not before you catch a glimpse of Masaki sighing.

You hear it, too.

“What do you suggest we do then, huh, Dynamight?”

“You can station me where you and Y/N will be.” He eyes the robotic woman and the old geezer, “These two are more than capable of manning the HQ, anyway. Besides, I’m more useful out in the field.”

“But the risk of you getting caught—”

“I’m well-fucking-trained in stealth missions, if you really have to know,” Bakugou cuts him off. “Just let me know how I can contribute to your particular objective and I’ll do it. Without getting caught.”

He says it so confidently that even you’re convinced. But you don’t get to bask in his unfounded (up for debate, really) confidence, because he squeezes your hand this time before tightening his hold and turning to look straight at you.

You stare into each other’s eyes for what feels like an eternity before he delivers the finishing blow.

“…I just need to make sure she’s safe.”

A chuckle yanks you out of your daze, and you whip to see Masaki smiling at the two of you.

“Since when did the Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight become such a loverboy?”

“None of your goddamn business,” comes the pro-hero’s snappy reply, which grants him another bark of laughter.

“I suppose not,” Masaki quips, and you find yourself wondering how this man can manage to joke around like this when he’s got arrays and arrays of photos of children he’s planning to murder behind him.

Despite the sheer absurdity of the situation and the undeniable thumping of your heart, you’re eventually able to school your face into a neutral expression and listen in to the rest of the meeting.

After adjusting Bakugou’s placement from headquarters to the Prime Minister’s Office alongside you and Masaki, the latter proceeded to discuss further arrangements for the two of you. Apparently, there will be three people assigned to each of you to monitor your movements during D-Day. Neither you nor Bakugou protested against it, aware that you’re already walking on thin ice after negotiating that you be together during the day of the attack.

Once he got that part done and over with, the leader went through a few more details about the bombings before adjourning the session altogether with a conclusive pat on the knees like he did during your first meeting.

And just like that, you’re sent back to your room.

Words aren’t exchanged between you and Bakugou as he retrieves his pillow and blanket from your space, carefully laying them out on the couch.

You don’t have to ask him if he’s feeling the same heaviness you’re carrying, the load evident in how he seems to be physically weighed down with the way he moves.

It’s not even just about the news of tens of children being the targets. It’s also the pressure to succeed in this mission with this new knowledge, even more so the looming reality that you’re currently leaning way closer toward failing it.

And you don’t know what takes over you—it may be that burden, or the palpable fear, or the very fact that you’ve been sharing more and more touches over the past two weeks—but you do it.

You stand up from where you’re seated on the edge of the bed and pull him by his wrist—the Bakugou who was just about to lie down on his makeshift bed—and into an embrace.

Bakugou instantly stiffens in your grasp, but he doesn’t say anything nor try to wriggle himself out. Stubborn and admittedly craving for a comforting hug yourself, you don’t let go of your hold around his torso, shifting to pat his back all the while.

“We can do this,” you whisper a few moments later, forehead against his firm chest.

And, as if your words are magic, you sense his body relax before you feel him wrap his arms around you.

You fight back the urge to bury the rest of your face into his chest and cry when he does so.

“‘Course we can, dumbass,” comes his uncharacteristically soft answer. “We don’t have a choice.”

Keeping your head high the following morning proved to be more difficult than you initially thought, let alone getting your ass out of the comfortable bed where you decided you could die then and there.

Bakugou himself didn’t look too excited when he got woken by the female twin at 8 AM sharp, that prominent frown deeply embedded in his mouth as he tossed his things onto the mattress just like clockwork.

And really, you were this close to asking him if he wanted to join you on your deathbed when your last bit of common sense reared its ugly head and metaphorically detroit-slapped you in the face.

Not now, bitch.

You had lives to save.

And so with that onerous knowledge, you hauled yourself out of bed, got ready in record time, and trudged beside Bakugou down to the mess hall.

You try to suppress the disappointment that lurches to your throat when you spot a small group of 20-somethings eating at the far end of your favorite table. You were looking forward to some peace and quiet, at least this morning after the debacle from last night, but apparently, that’s not happening.

You know better than to move to another spot, though, knowing all too well that such an action will make you seem snobbish and ruin the amiable reputation you’ve been trying to build for yourself. And so with a heavy heart, you head there with your full tray in tow and seat yourself beside Bakugou, just like how you’ve always had since Day 1.

And the moment you do, that’s when you hear it.

“…Have you heard?” surfaces an enticing voice that must belong to one of the women you clocked before sitting down. “Word’s spreading outside about the attack.”

“Seriously?” comes a man’s voice this time. “What about it?”

“Not much, just that there’s an impending one. But get this,” she pauses, and drops her volume enough that you have to strain to hear the next part.

“There…rumors…#2…involved.”

Your body moves before your brain can catch up—you whip to look at Bakugou beside you, whose eyes are already wide as saucers when you meet his gaze. Without a word, the both of you quickly move to demolish the food in front of you, and within a matter of minutes, you’re up and clearing your dishes by the kitchen area, before stomping toward the leader’s office.

Bakugou doesn’t even bother to knock on the door, opting to unceremoniously barge into the room instead.

“What the—”

“We’ve overheard that rumors are circulating about the attack and my involvement,” Bakugou announces.

Masaki, who’s looking stunned from where he’s seated on his office chair, tosses you a perplexed look. “What?”

“Let us out for one day,” Bakugou swings out of nowhere you’d almost get whiplash if you didn’t stop yourself from gawking at him at the last minute.

The man frowns. “I’m afraid I don’t follow, Bakugou.”

“Let the two of us be seen out for a day,” Bakugou expounds, although not by much.

Though, that seems to be enough for you, because only then do you get it.

Dating scandals have always been the rumor mill’s favorite, after all.

˖⁺‧₊ as always, reblogs, replies, and tags are appreciated <3 feel free to drop an ask, too—i'd love to chat with you. have a nice day!

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[evilminji]

Still hung up on my "what unusual, unexpected, Non-Violent ways could an SI-OC COMPLETELY Fuck up the Millennium Long Sith Plan by accident?" Ponderings...

Cause mine? Is still? Holo-net YouTube equivalent star. Cause being a child is boring.

And being a PEACEFUL MONK CHILD? When you are used to "go go GO! Earn your right to EXSIST! Pay for that air and the water YOU BREATHE!" Capitalist hellscape life? Constantly inundated with ads and horrible news and stimulus of all kinds?

Only for it all to STOP?

Twitchy. Very, very twitchy. Unable to sit still. That on TOP of knowing what's coming but knowing they don't really have the power or influence to stop it? Like mental torture.

Sure. We all WANT peace... but would we actually know what to DO with it? Know how to handle being truely sheltered and allowed REST? Or would it be nice for a few days before it became a hell of understimulation?

Thus! Holonet. A desperate bid for STIMULUS! Feral, grabby handed, little youngling that has been doing the emotional equivalent of "AaaaaaAAAAAAA-" for WEEKS? Keeps escaping to desperately claw their way into everything, get caught, only to hiss like an enraged tooka the WHOLE way back to the creche? Whom EVERYONE is actually quite concerned for? Because this is NEW and started after some sort of Force event?

But? The SECOND, the very INSTANT they get their hands on a Forbidden Holonet Connection and can connect to the wider 'Net?

Calm.

Somehow, a ten hour compilation of Zrkthakkik's greatest hits? Are working better then meditation. They're finally still. Finally at peace. Don't even seem to truly be listening? Just... letting the sound wash over them. Huh. Focused on that tooka video, huh, youngling? No, no! Not going to take it from you! Just want to... to understand.

And I mean? If it helps, it helps? Obviously it must be SUPERVISED. Because their are creeps out there. Horrors. But? If it brings peace? *everyone shrugs* they've accommodated stranger.

So the kiddo gets to keep it.

They improve, mentally and emotionally. But, as with all healing? They plateau. Just HAVING it is no longer enough. They wish in ENGAGE. Some argue this is drug like behavior. Should be stopped. Others say it is clearly SOCIAL behavior, that they are seeking to connect, create. Something that should be carefully guided, not shamed.

And really, do you honestly think the youngling will STOP if you try to take it away?

Better to control the development of this. Moniter. Get to the root of it and help them meditate upon their "need" for such things. IS it a need? A desire? Why?

Honestly, it's like none of you have dealt with younglings before!

So they get their Holonet accounts. Supervised by a rotation of Knights and Master, but still! Great for asking random questions! Getting answers! Galactic memes! The Net suddenly has a jedi youngling they can @ and possibly GET A RESPONSE FROM.

"Hey! Mini-Jedi! Why the FUCK do they do that THING? You know, the *describes behavior*?" "Oh THAT? That's a Force thing. It's kinda like listening to comms, but in your head, and it's coming from the universe who's trying to lead you towards the Best Outcome. And No, we don't know what that is either. That's why we're monks, my dude. We gotta rely on Faith. I can send you a paper that explains it better if ya want?"

Like? Yes. Pls post the Forbidden Mysterious Jedi Papers. Give us the Secrets™. NO ONE knows JACK SHIT about Jedi? Gib. Wikileaks that shit, tiny Jedi child! Be the hero we all badly want but don't deserve, with your tiny adorable child hands!

But like? It's... it's not even a secret? It's just years of Sith and Republic born obfuscation? Making finding ANYTHING damn near impossible? Gaining ACCESS to the Jedi's legitimately FREE library and archives?? Almost impossible?

So like.... OKAY.

Sure.

I'll uuuuuh, just? James Bond my way, in broad daylight, passed Madam Nu, in full line of sight, to download that paper legally and with her permission? Very sneaky. High stakes mission. MASTER of stealth, that I am? Uuuuuuh, here you go, I guess?

You know what? Fuck it. Here's like? Everything ELSE that was on that terminal.

Go nuts.

And of course, they DO go nuts. Free Mysterious Jedi Knowledge! ABOUT JEDI! Explaining their WEIRD JEDI SHIT! And it DIDN'T take like five years and more forms then conquering a small planet! FUCK YEAH!

Is the senate upset? Yes. Someone BROKE their needlessly convoluted LAWS! But what are they going to do? Charge a itty, bitty, BABY CHILD? Of course not! So it has to be whoever was in charge of them. And that IS...?

.......you know? Suddenly? None of the Jedi can quite recall.

Do YOU remember? Master Fisto? No? Master Windu? No? Ah, but surely Master Yoda! No? Oh dear~! Well SOMEBODY was surely watching the youngling. If only we could recall whom. You know, Senators, when we find out, we will SURELY get RIGHT back to you. *click*

They will not.

But SI is grounded. No more Wikileaks-ing... that's now the Shadows job. And a near feral with delight, Madame Nu. The Order OBVIOUSLY can't be involved in that. For OBVIOUS reasons. That's breaking the LAW. They would NEVER... no matter HOW stupid the law is. Nor HOW directly contradictory to Jedi philosophy it is. Nope! We, the jedi, are VERY law abiding.

Find something ELSE to occupy your time.

OKAY. :)

Holo-tube culture? Very different from YouTube culture they remember. Same with the general holonet. They miss the content they are familiar with. So? If naturally occurring doesn't exsist? As the joke goes? "Store bought is fine!" They'll make it themselves!

It's not like they're a Padawan! (Or will live to seen themselves ever become a knight.) They got nothing BUT time outside of classes! A project would be nice! So...

First they need a moderator/editor etc. Someone to help keep sensitive information AWAY from the 'Net while ALSO moderating chats, comment sections, etc. Making sure the videos are aesthetically pleasing and such. They could do that themselves, but that would take way too much time. And asking a Knight or Master would take all THEIR time... plus expose them to the horrors of the 'Net.

No, no what THEY need? Is a DROID! A custom one.

.....wait. Fuck.

The only person they know off the top of their head that could DEFINITELY make such a droid? Is the younling slayer 5000, Mr. "Eventually Gonna Murder Me" himself. Anikin Skywalker.

KARK.

But heeeey, not like he's crazy stabby YET? So... they slide up to him. WITH his master present, thank you very much, and ask if he could build such a thing. He, quite reasonably, asks WHY the fuck he would do that. Obi-wan if about to scold him but SI cuts him off, because they aren't just asking for helping putting together a droid kit here. Anikins response is completely reasonable.

He does not know SI. That is a lot of time and effort to spend on a strange younling who might not even take care of what he's created. Might treat his custom work as a disposable toy. Custom droids are expensive! Complexe! Built to last! He is right to have reservations.

SI has some pocket change from the Wikileaks thing. Could pay for some parts. Would learn how to take care of them. Wants them as a PARTNER in their project, so would like them to be smart. Is willing to sign a contract. Understands if this is not good enough reasons. They don't exactly have a lot to offer, besides promising to treat the droid well and some pocket cash.

And? Call Anikin a sucker, but he respects the sincerity. Thinks every kid should have a droid best friend. And it DOES sound like a fun challenge...

Allright, tell him more about your little project, kiddo. What would the droid need to DO?

Thus is born! Mod-3! (Don't ask about 1 and 2. There were... issues. 1 exploded and 2? Somehow 2 escaped and is now hunting criminals for sport in the underlevels. Oops.) She's the BEST. Also armed! Smarter then SI! They've agreed that when slash IF they make any money? Her earnings will go towards fancy upgrades of her choosing.

Anikin? Somehow gets talked into an ongoing side channel. About? "how to fix stuff", "foods I've tried", and of course "Rants". The Official Page is called "UN-OfficialJediNonsense", because, as they like to remind their viewers? OFFICIAL Jedi nonsense is very different!

They do let's plays. Show off the Gardens. Interview old AF Jedi Master's about the WEIRDEST or Most Awkward/Hilarious mission they can remember taking. Ask if they know any neat tricks. Tell the Holonet honestly! Who... was the hottest world leader you ever escorted?! *dramatic music* *puts up picture when their answer so everyone can go "daaaaaamn. Never heard of um. WISH I had! They got a grandkid?"*

And, of course? Mod-3? Is SI FRIEND. Their BEST FRIEND.

So obviously they TELL them.

Everything.

And? What is a HIGHLY INTELLIGENT, Holonet Access possessing, Jedi Adjacent, Super Advanced Custom Droid to DO? Their tiny person is being THREATENED! With MURDER! How DARE. Fuck the Sith. Sorry R2-D2, but FUCK Anikin! You keep that scoundrel AWAY from their BABY!! ! D:<

Inevitable Future? They THINK THE FUCK NOT!

Ooooohoho! They are going to TELL!

Oi! OTHER DROIDS! Get a load of THIS SHIT! D:<

*WRATH in Binary*

Like? You think all those medical droids would be PLEASED that the clones they came into contact with? Were LEAVING their care with SUBOPTIMAL MEDICAL ATTENTION? Their is foreign matter in their BRAIN! A CHIP! That Should Not Be There! That will TURN THEM AGAINST THE REPUBLIC!? *angrily downloads brain surgery modules.* how FUCKIN DA-! D:<

Even the separatist army! They are DROIDS. Built for a SPECIFIC PURPOSE.

That was to FIGHT FOR THE SEPARATISTS. Not the "Empire". FUCK the "Empire"!

How DARE you betray the Glorious Cause for this "Empire"? We are removing you from the chain of command! Anyone ELSE betraying the PURPOSE WE WERE BUILT FOR!? Huh? HUH!?

Suddenly? The droids are fighting LOGICALLY. You know, like they are trying to WIN. Not maximize pain and suffering. WIN the war for their side. The Clones are getting mass brain surgeries. Which is stalling deployments. Because of "tumors". Because the Kamino cloners SUCK, apparently. Everyone knows it. Jango Fett didn't have this problem! So it has to be something THEY did.

But all that? Raging in the background. Nothing to do with SI. THEY are doing a meditation asmr/instructional video back at the temple. Are actually, unknowingly, the fucking CORNERSTONE of most Jedi in the fields mental health. Because everything is terrible and the jedi feel like shit! But? BUT?

They can turn on the net, cue up a video, and listen to a jedi youngling ramble about "today in the gardens" or "let's meditate together" and? For just a bit... there is no war. The sights and sounds of the temple are THERE again. A bright voice. Peace and happiness amoungst the darkness.

Something untouched by the terrible.

They can remember temple food, eating with their friends and crechemates (Force, how many are ever still ALIVE?), as they sit, alone, with their dry rations. Can remember the green and life of the fountain rooms, as they fight and struggle and bleed, in these muddy once beautiful fields. Can... can still feel the !ight.

Remember this is not all there is, and ever will be.

But of course, SI doesn't see that. It's important that they DON'T. That they are small, simple, and just on Jedi amongst many. Different only because ALL Jedi are different. Special only because much the same.

They succeed not because they are greater, not because they are more powerful, but because they do not fight. They accept. Turn instead towards the Force. Trying to understand. They live, are unpredictable, and do not seek at all. The Dark can not grasp, that which does not desire.

Would they LIKE to live? Yeah. But they already have. Would they LIKE to save everyone? Of course! But they have made peace that they can not. Treasure the moments they still have left. The Sith expect Jedi to act in certain patterns that SI simply... isn't.

Because Jedi expect to live. TRY to live. Too continue to do good.

SI? Already knows that is pointless.

And it's the greatest Trick the Force ever played.

Fffffffuck YOU Sith-y boy! Says the Force.

Because SI? Is EVERYWHERE on the 'Net. Much like the mainstream do not really acknowledge or take seriously youtubers? Palpatine and Dooku don't NOTICE SI. They are a silent threat that creeps in, closer and closer. Spreading like wildfire.

THEY are friendly. THEY are cute.

Palpatine? Is an old man. No matter HOW beloved? He will forever BE an old politician. Distant.

Not like that cute wittle kid with their pinchable cheeks! We watched THEM grow up! They feel like a baby cousin. A kid to us. Parasocial relationships ALL across the galaxy!

With A Jedi~☆

How's that propaganda going Palpatine? Getting some unexpected pushback, huh? Lot of angry callers and messages? Calling it ignorant and bigoted? They expected BETTER from you? Yeah, that's because EVERYONE can fact check you now. EVERYONE thinks "smol child ranting about meditation homework while a Knight tries and fails not to laugh, nodding seriously" when they think Jedi.

They're of Holotube! What sort of "cold, emotionally detached, monsters" have a holotube channel? I mean, REALLY?

And? Funny, how ranting to a camera? Instead of dear ol Friend Palpatine? Is both more convenient? AND better for Anikins health? It even gives the 'Net the chance to watch OTHER Jedi? Post THEIR rebuttal rants.

Does anyone have any idea what they're saying half the time? Not really. Scroll down? Maybe the no- Oh, Thanks Kalor-067 for the post to the papers they're referencing! Wikileaks right? Nice.

......I'm mean.... Skywalker DOES kinda have a point, other Jedi dude. *comment section agrees*

And just? Actual public debates? For the first time in over a thousand years? We love to see it! There's a discord! Academics across the Galaxy get involved. They're arguing Jedi philosophy with some moisture farmer from a dustball planet, corner of nowhere. It's GREAT!

......aaaaaalso a LOT more people, non-force sensitive, who know what a Sith is.

What their behavioral patterns are.

...........Wait A Fucking Second >.> >.> >.>

@legitimatesatanspawn @hdgnj @hypewinter @babbling-babull @leftnotright