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#don't check for continuity issues there because there may be a bunch
thevioletcaptain · 4 months
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🌵🤠🙄
Crouched down behind the bar at the back of the room, Dean pushes bottles around until he finds the little box of cactus-shaped cocktail sticks left over from Jack’s “Green Stuff” themed birthday party (Dean’s given up on questioning the kid’s requests) and holds them up triumphantly.
“Got ‘em!”
Sam peers around the back of his recliner and narrows his eyes as Dean makes his way back to the couch and plonks back into his seat, shaking a few out into his hand and sticking them into several cubes of cheese and deli meats on the platter he’d set up earlier.
“What are those, pickles?”
“They’re cactuses, man. They’re thematically relevant to the movie. Y’know, cowboys, deserts, cactuses.”
“Oh my god, I told you we are not watching it again,” Sam groans.
“Well, it’s what’s playing in the Deanplex tonight, and there’s only one screen, so—”
“The Deanplex? Really?”
“You kept whining about me calling it the Dean Cave,” Dean reminds him. “Reap what you sow.”
“Dean. I’m serious. No more Tombstone.”
“It’s a classic!”
“So is Citizen Kane, but we don’t need to watch it six times a year!”
Dean makes a face. Slaps Sam’s hand away when he tries to take one of the cubes of colby jack before he’s had a chance to stick a cactus in it.
“Okay, one? Citizen Kane is boring as fuck and you know it.”
“Not the point,” Sam huffs.
“And B? What are you talking about, six times? Who’s watched it six times?”
Sam stares, then raises his hand to count them off on his fingers.
“We watched it on your birthday,” he starts, raising his index finger.
Dean rolls his eyes.
“Yeah, ‘cause it’s one of my favorite movies. Choosing the movie is a time-honored birthday tradition.”
“So then why did we have to watch it on my birthday?”
“Hey, that’s on you, man. Not my fault you struck out on your date and came home when me and Cas had already hit play.”
“I didn’t strike out, Eileen had to—”
“And anyway, that’s only two times, so—”
Sam raises his second and third finger and cuts him off.
“We watched it again on Valentine’s Day.”
“Again, when you were supposed to be out! I don’t see why I have to suffer just because you can’t seem to manage to get a date with Eileen to continue past 7pm.”
Sam ignores the dig and lifts his fourth finger.
“We watched it on Jack’s birthday.”
“His choice, and as we’ve established: it’s birthday tradition,” Dean reminds him, and shrugs. “Kid inherited my good taste genes, I guess.”
“That’s not — that doesn’t make sense on literally any level.”
“Says you.”
“You’re not even his father!”
“How dare you say that about my son,” Dean says in exaggerated horror, and Sam grits his teeth, visibly making the decision not to push that particular argument, even as Dean can tell how infuriated he is.
He lifts his thumb.
“And then we watched it again two weeks ago, and— fine, yeah, that one I’ll give you, ‘cause it was like. The anniversary of that time we had the hunt in Tombstone when Cas just came back from the dead, so. Fine. But dude. Two weeks ago. It’s only July and we’ve already watched it five times this year. We are not watching it for a sixth.”
“It’s National Day of the Cowboy, Sam! How are we not gonna watch the best cowboy movie of all time on the Day of the Cowboy?”
“You’re still arguing about this?”
Cas’ voice floats over from the doorway, and Dean looks over to see him wearing the denim Western shirt Dean bought him for the occasion. The pearl snaps glint, silvery in the light from the TV screen where Tombstone is loaded and ready to play.
“Yeah, ‘cause Sam’s being unreasonable.”
“I’m not—”
“You realize I left to drop Jack off with his friends almost an hour ago,” Cas points out.
“Remind me again what he’s doing with his friends,” Dean says, and looks at Sam to see his reaction when Cas answers.
“They’re celebrating National Day of the Cowboy by watching the Dollars trilogy in Eliot’s backyard.”
“Sounds like Jack and his friends are getting into the sprit of the holiday,” Dean says pointedly.
“It’s not a holiday!”
“They’ve set up a projector to show the films on the side of the barn,” Cas goes on.
“Okay, so hey— a compromise,” Sam offers. “Why don’t we just watch the Dollars trilogy?”
“…oh, did you think we were only watching Tombstone tonight?” Dean asks, bemused. “Dude, that’s just the appetizer. We’ve got a whole damn buffet to get through.”
“I hate you so much,” Sam tells him, but he’s already given up. He snatches up several pieces of cheese and slouches back in his chair. “Start the damn movie.”
“Hey, man,” Dean says, and settles into the couch, spreading his arm for Cas to settle against before he kicks his cowboy-booted heels up onto the edge of the coffee table and hits play. “You’re the one who keeps crashing date night.”
[written for this prompt game] [find me on ao3 as imogenbynight 💚]
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elen-aranel · 1 year
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Helloo~ May I make a Christopher Pike x reader request? It's a month old scuttlebutt, that the captain is involved with you, based solely on misconstrued events (leaving the direction of his quarters early morn in a rumpled uniform, stopping by medbay for a 'shot') Everyone knows that everyone knows, from cadet to captain. Except you don't. And noone has bothered checking. And the captain finds it funny (and you 'apparently' don't mind either as you've not bothered to shoot it down) so any moments you two have in view of others, he gives you a conspirational wink with some flirty banter. You think (hope) he's really flirting and not just being friendly.
Is it a bit much for a request? If so lemme know. Or i can commission? Idk. The idea hit me and it made me giggle with all the ways it could go.
Thank you so much for the request, and for your patience... this took a while! I hope you like the direction I've gone with it <333
Common Knowledge
Pairing: Christopher Pike x F!Reader (no Y/N) Warnings/Notes: Reader wears the dress version of the standard SNW uniform. Food mentions, alcohol mention. WC: 5.8k
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It all starts the morning after you spent gamma shift in a Jeffries tube. Well. Several Jeffries tubes, in fact, chasing down an issue with a relay that had blown and taken a bunch of circuitry out with it, including some life support systems.
You’re feeling good, though, as you step out into the corridor on a deck full of crew quarters. Yes, your red uniform dress is creased and you’re in dire need of a shower, but the relay and the burned-out circuitry are replaced, and all systems are back online.
You deserve a water shower, not a sonic one, you tell yourself as you head toward the turbolift, nodding to the occasional officer as you walk by them. You just need to make sure the ops console on the bridge is reading everything correctly, then your duty shift will be done.
“Commander, Lieutenant,” you greet Lieutenant Commander Chin-Riley and Lieutenant Ortegas as you enter the turbolift. Unlike you, they both look fresh and ready to face the day. Number One nods in greeting, but Ortegas looks you up and down quite blatantly, and you find you’re trying to smooth your skirt despite yourself.
“Long night?”
“I—” you start, but before you can reply—
“Computer, hold. Open the doors,” Commander Chin-Riley says, and as you turn, Captain Pike is walking into the lift. And somehow, even though you’ve been on the Enterprise for a while, you’re never not struck by his presence. His broad shoulders. How handsome he is.
“Good morning, Number One, Ortegas. Lieutenant.” He puts an odd weight on your title, even though of course he knows your name, and then your mind goes blank as he winks one of those blue eyes.
“C-captain,” you stutter, well aware of Ortegas trying to stifle a laugh next to you.
“Sleep well?” Una asks, something knowing in her voice, after the captain directs the turbolift to the bridge.
“I’ve had… more restful nights,” he says, and looks at you sideways, doubtless taking in your rumpled dress and less-than-fresh appearance. “Like the lieutenant here, I’d wager,” he adds, and you must have missed a memo somewhere because this ‘lift ride has gotten very weird, very fast.
You decide keeping quiet is your best bet — it’s a short ride, thank goodness.
But you can’t shake the feeling that there are eyes on you as you finish your work on the bridge.
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It may have started in a Jeffries tube, but it continues in sickbay.
You appreciate knowing sickbay is there. Doctor M'Benga and Nurse Chapel are skilled at their jobs, and you’ve had cause to be grateful for them when accidents happen, from a pulled muscle during a workout to a painful plasma burn from faulty equipment.
That doesn’t mean you love getting your quarterly check-up and shots. But you decided early on in your career that you weren’t going to be one of those people doctors had to chase for their physicals. Every three months you turn up. You’re due for routine vaccinations against some common alien viruses that human immune systems need reminders about, and your contraceptive shot.
Not that you really need it, of course. You aren’t getting any. The closest you’ve been since you joined the Enterprise was Lieutenant Paulson, a senior engineer who sometimes commands gamma shift when you’re on that rotation. He asked you out to dinner on Starbase 1, and while you like him as a person, you had to decline. You’d known him for a while, and never felt any kind of spark. And there’s been no-one— there’s been almost no-one else on the ship that you’re interested in. But still, you get your shot.
Today your appointment is during your shift. You didn’t want to be interrupted; you’re working on a new scanning device to be used on a planet with an unusual combination of atmosphere and magnetic field, which affects the resolution of normal scanners. So when your reminder went off you kept hold of your PADD, and you carried on entering the design parameters as you walked.
“Woah there,” a voice cuts through the equations you’re focussing on, and you feel hands on your arms, steadying you as you stumble.
As it turns out, walking with a PADD is a mistake.
Especially when you walk straight into the captain in the corridor outside sickbay.
“Captain! I’m so sorry! I—I was— I’ll pay more attention.” You look up, flustered, into his blue eyes, suddenly keenly aware of the bulk of him, of the controlled strength in his hands.  Happily, he seems amused rather than annoyed, that half smile playing about his lips.
“I do admire your... dedication, Lieutenant, but you’re right. Paying attention is a good idea.”
And as the doors to sickbay swish open, letting Chief Kyle and one of your fellow engineers out onto the corridor, you realise the captain hasn’t moved. You’re still in his space, and he’s still holding you.
“Captain, Lieutenant... are you joining us?” Nurse Chapel looks as though she’s suppressing a smile. “You’re, uh... both here for your quarterly shots, right?” she adds, as Pike finally steps back, and you walk with him into sickbay. You nod, mutely.
“Yes. Timed it perfectly this time, didn’t we Lieutenant?” he says, and he grins at you, knowing.
“Sure,” you find yourself saying, sitting down a little abruptly on the biobed Doctor M'Benga indicates. Is Pike… flirting with you? Or just being his usual warm self?
“This shouldn’t take too long. I’m sure you want to get back to your... duties.” M'Benga looks meaningfully at Pike, who shrugs, a picture of innocence.
“Can you blame us?”
You can’t help your smile.
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But actually, now you really think about it, maybe you’re wrong.  Maybe it started with the onions.
You have a shift free, moving from nights to days as you do on a semi-regular basis, since some edict came down from Starfleet that people shouldn’t just work nights for health reasons. It doesn’t entirely make sense to you; you’re on a ship, so it’s not like anyone has a real day or night, but being able to socialise with people who are always on alpha is a plus, and you suppose the same rules apply to planetary bases which do have day and night.
The captain has invited you to dinner. That isn’t special, even though you wish it were – he likes to get to know the whole crew in an informal setting, and it’s just your turn. And maybe you over-think it just a little, during the day, planning what to wear to make yourself look pretty but not like you’d tried too hard.
Either way, you are early. You only realise as you press the chime for the door, when it’s too late to back out.
But the captain’s smile is warm and welcoming. “Hi, come in, come in. You any good with a vegetable knife?”
You grin in return, relaxing. “Yes sir. It’s been a little while, but I can chop.”
“Chris. We’re not on the clock right now.”
“Yes, Chris.” You follow him into the kitchen area of his quarters, taking in the fire, the view of a green forest through the windows, all the details that mark the space as his.
“Excellent. That spatial anomaly today— well. I’m playing catch-up here.”
“Oh wow, you really are...” the vegetables are all laid out ready, and there are a lot. But then, you don’t know how many people will be here. “Set me to work. How do you want the carrots?”
Pike’s knives are sharp and well balanced, and it’s easy to chop carrots into even circles, and to dice potatoes into neat cubes. You chat, too, about the food he’s making, and the special unit he had the ship’s botanists set up to let him grow fresh herbs in space.
You’re pretty much on autopilot by the time you get to the onions. You know the technique: you slice them in half through the root, then make sure you don’t cut the root again as you cut from close to the root to the tip, then across into chunks.
“So, there’s something I’m curious about,” you say as you grab the next onion.
“Oh?” Pike pauses for a moment, hand poised over the control for the oven.
“The forest overlay you have for the windows. Is it somewhere special to you? It’s really lovely.” You blink a little as you chop. Perhaps you got a lash or something in your eye.
Pike presses the control on the oven, then turns to look at you. “No, actually it’s—” he frowns. “Wait, are you all right?”
You blink again. “Of course, why wouldn’t I be?” Your brow draws together, and you put your knife down, turning to him a little more.
“Because you’re crying.” He starts towards you.
“Oh, damn.” You can feel it now — that tell-tale sting in your eyes. You look down at your chopping. “The onions. But I was being careful.” You sigh, blink again, and feel a tear roll down your cheek.
“If there are a lot it doesn’t matter how careful you are. I’m sorry, I should have done them.” He reaches past you, and you’re terribly aware of him in your space. He pulls off a piece of kitchen towel.
 “It’s not your fault—” the words die on your lips as he turns to face you, blue eyes filled with concern.
“I’ll just—I don’t want you to use your hands—” and he takes the towel and dabs your face, and you suck a little breath in at his closeness, wondering why it has to be in a circumstance like this, when the door chime goes. “Enter,” he says, distractedly, blotting away one more tear before stepping back. “There. No harm done. But you should wash up. Ah, Spock, perhaps you can take over the chopping.”
You look round to see that Spock, Sam Kirk, Ortegas and Uhura have all walked in, just in time to see you with red eyes from the onions. At least, you think as you wash the onion off your hands, your makeup is waterproof.
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Regardless of how things did or did not start, you’re pretty sure the captain only thinks of you as a friend. That this flirting is just a joke between the two of you... even if you wish it were real. Either way, you decide you might as well enjoy it.
You get back to the transport point from your solo hike on Chi Orianis Prime – it’s beautiful, with fluffy peachy-pink grass that’s soft underfoot and smells very slightly citrus-y when you tread on it, interspersed with lavender coloured bushes, with views of blue lakes and red mountains in the distance – right as Pike gets back from his fishing trip. Given how he’s carrying his cooler, it must have been a successful one.
You’re just about to ask him about it when Chapel and Ortegas arrive, with Uhura and La’an in tow, laughing together. They’re wearing t-shirts and shorts and sandals, carrying towels — clearly back from the beach, La’an actually looking like she might have caught the sun a little.
You take a step closer to him.
“Enjoy your trip?” The smile on Erica’s face is just a little too innocent.
“Yes, thank you. Wouldn’t have been the same without the lieutenant here, though.” Pike catches your eye, and you smile back at him, sappy, playing along.
“The captain’s right. We had a good time.”
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None of your close friends wanted to go to movie night with you tonight. They’re showing a classic 20th century Earth film, Casablanca, and none of them were interested in seeing something that old. But it seems pretty popular with the rest of the crew when you get there. You pick up some popcorn first, wondering once again whose idea it was to put a Starfleet delta on the containers, and you head to find a seat.
Maybe it was a good thing your friends didn’t come. There aren’t too many spaces left when you go to sit down, but there are a few seats a couple of rows in front of where Spock and Nurse Chapel are sitting together. You settle in, allowing yourself three pieces of popcorn before the lights go down.
And right before they do, Pike slides into the free seat next to you.
“I thought you were going to stand me up,” you tell him, tilting your popcorn container over.
“A gentleman would never,” he replies, and you can hear the smile in his voice as he takes a piece.
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The back of the shuttle is open to the bay, and Cadets Novakova and Manuel, on engineering rotation, are standing inside it with you, PADDs in hand. You’ve popped a panel off the inside of the shuttle, and you indicate a junction point.
“So, okay. You want to interplex the circuitry here. What will be the result of that? What are you hoping to achieve?”
“Well, the increased signal strength will improve thruster response time and efficiency.” Manuel says, shrugging his broad shoulders like it’s obvious.
“Yes, and we need better responsiveness for the planet. The atmospheric differentials are almost out of spec.” Novakova nods. “This is the easiest way to achieve that.”
“All right. And looking at the systems in front of you, will there be any other consequences?”
“No, there shouldn’t, it should just—” there’s a pause, then Novakova steps back, playing with a twist of her blonde hair as she considers. “Wait. That pathway, it connects to the impulse engine as well, doesn’t it?”
“Yes, it does, and the boosted signal would go through there too…” Manuel’s fingers fly over his PADD.
They look at each other as the penny drops, and you notice Pike in the bay, listening in. You tilt your head and raise a brow in a silent invitation, but he shakes his head a little, content to observe.
“So if we interplex the circuitry there, we will get an increase in thruster efficiency, but at the expense of introducing instability into the impulse control matrix.” Manuel sighs.
“You’re flying along, minding your business and then boom. Impulse reactor overload.” Novakova winces. “I didn’t see that.”
You nod. “You didn’t. Because neither of you really looked. For what it’s worth, it would probably have worked on the shuttles at the academy. But these are a different model. You have to work with what’s actually in front of you. That’s half the battle.”
“Wise words, Lieutenant.” Pike leans into the back of the shuttle, and you can’t help your smile at the praise as the cadets turn to acknowledge him. “The two of you should take them to heart.”
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You're sitting on a bench in the bar, sipping a favourite drink, listening to Ensign Thyra play an Earth guitar but sing a wistful sounding song in her native Andorian, when Lieutenant Ortegas sits down next to you. And then Nurse Chapel sits on your other side.
“So, you and the captain. How’s that going?” Christine’s opening is straight to the point.
You give her a sceptical look. “It... isn’t? Hi to you too, by the way.” You turn to Erica. “To both of you.”
“Oh, come on. You guys are not subtle.” Erica rolls her eyes. “It’s been scuttlebutt for weeks. Me, Number One,” she starts counting off on her fingers, “Christine, Mbenga, Uhura...”
“Sam Kirk,” Christine adds.
“Yes, Sam Kirk, Spock, La’an...”
 “We’ve all seen it. I even heard the cadets talking about it. Everyone knows.”
You shake your head, putting your drink down on the table in front of you. “We’re not... I don’t—” you look from one to the other. “There’s nothing between the captain and me.” You take a breath. “He flirts, sometimes I flirt back, but it’s just a joke.”
“Doesn’t look like a joke to me.” Christine says, her voice soft, almost sympathetic.
Erica shrugs. “It’s okay. You don’t have to admit it, if you guys are keeping things to yourselves... We just wanted you to know that we’re happy for you. Pike should have someone on the ship. And you. You should have someone too.” Her smile as she stands to leave is genuine.
“I—I’m not hiding anything. But thanks, I guess? I appreciate the sentiment.”
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Arriving early when the captain invites you to a crew dinner is your habit now. You enjoy helping with prep when you can, and having a quiet moment to chat with Chris.
But this time you use the computer to check that others have arrived before you get there. You try to relax; these are your friends, Chris is your friend, but with what Erica and Christine said… you feel self-conscious. Second guessing everything you do and say.
 You leave as soon as you can without being rude.
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You feel a bit self-conscious with work, too, although you try to bury it. Especially with Pike piloting the shuttle for this mission. You’re sitting in your tactical uniform in the back of shuttle Kepler with Spock, Sam Kirk, La’an, and a couple more science officers. You would expect Kirk especially to pass some comment, but even he is quiet, because Zeta Lyrae VI’s wind shear is every bit as bad as science predicted.
A long-range scanning probe identified it as a possible source of dilithium as well as some other useful minerals — visual scan only, though, because the strange magnetic field prevented scanning of the interior. But that’s where the scanner you developed comes in. The visual scan also tagged some potential ruins which Kirk will investigate, and there’s general surveying to do too.
You grit your teeth against the turbulence. You trust that the captain’s piloting skills and the modifications you and the cadets made to the shuttle will see you safely to the ground, but you still feel motion sick. You know, though, there are pattern enhancers in the cargo. Perhaps you’ll be able to beam back up.
The turbulence lessens as you get deeper into the atmosphere, but you’re still very glad when the shuttle touches down. There’s a metallic tang to the air as the shuttle door opens, but it’s cool and refreshing despite that, and you take a deep breath, settling your rolling stomach, before you get to work.
The dawn sky of Zeta Lyrae IV is muted shades of pale blue and grey, warming a little to mauve-pink at the horizon, where the two suns have just risen. Barren-looking plains stretch out in front of you, with a river lazily meandering across, and there are hills leading to mountains not far away to your right. It’s hard to make out, but the lines of dark stones partially embedded in the ground to your left could well be the remains of a wall, and there are other, more defined structures further away in that direction.
“Lieutenant, you have everything you need?”
“Yes sir.” You lift your last case again, the heavy one, and try to keep your face blank at the weight of it. You know you’ll be feeling it tomorrow, but its contents were too large for your backpack. “I’ve identified a site two kilometres away that’s suitable for the scanner base. Enhanced scanning should be online within an hour.”
Pike nods. “Kirk, La’an, you have the ruins. Spock, the science survey is yours.” He turns to you. “Let me help with that.”
“I’m fine, honestly,” you protest as Pike takes the case from you, fingers brushing yours for one tiny electric moment.
“We’ll make quicker time if we share the load. Which I’m sure Spock will appreciate.”
“Aye, sir.”
You notice that there’s no flirtatious comment today.
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This planet feels a bit like a dream, with its dead quiet, muted colours, pearly grey sky and the two suns gently highlighting the landscape. The only evidence you can see of the turbulent atmosphere are the occasional blue-green clouds scudding quickly across the sky.
You pick your way through the pathless terrain, looking for any signs of life. While there are scraps of ragged looking vegetation here and there, a lot of it seems dead, and the planet as a whole seems mostly barren.
You don’t make conversation; there’s something about the planet’s quiet and your confused emotions that steals your ability to make small talk, and Pike is quiet too. There’s just the sound of two pairs of boots crunching on the ground.
Until you almost step on a flower: a seven petaled bloom in the shape of a star, pale blue in the middle deepening to grey-purple just at the tips. You pause to get a better look, to see if there are any others like it nearby, but it seems solitary.
“Are you all right, Lieutenant?”
You look up to see Pike has stopped too, mild concern on his face.
“Yes sir, I’m fine.” You straighten up. “I just... this flower is the only one I’ve seen, and I wonder... is it the last gasp of the life that used to live on this planet, or is it a glimpse of hope for the future?”
Pike glances at the flower, but his focus is on you when he speaks. “We’ll likely never know, but I... I choose hope.”
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The site you chose from the visual scan is obvious when you get there. You’re at the edge of the hills, and there’s a grey cliff curving round one edge of a flat open area. Geophysics had identified it as a potential location for dilithium, and as you get close you can see veins of the pink crystal running through the rock.
Now you just need to find out how much there is.
With Pike helping it doesn’t take too long to set the scanner up. You start with the base in the case he was carrying, and together you fold it out into a large circle, locking struts and its three legs in place.
You attach the probe that will drill into the soil, the antennas to communicate with the smaller unit near the shuttle and with the Enterprise, and to facilitate scanning in the atmosphere. Finally, you attach the computer from your backpack which is the brains of the system — you can’t help your private smile of satisfaction as it comes online. The shuttle is far enough away that its systems don’t affect the sensitive scans, and when the probe deploys and calibration data flows straight through immediately.
You talk to Commander Pelia and Lieutenant Spock on comms, making adjustments on the fly to the different parameters, optimising the uplink from the scanner and away team’s tricorders to the Enterprise.
Pike checks in with La’an at some point, but next time you look up you see he’s a little way away, tricorder out, following a standard scanning pattern working outward from where you are. You’re a little surprised he didn’t tell you that’s what he was going to do. Then the scanner beeps as the drill returns a result outside expected tolerances, pulling your focus.
It’s easier to get lost in your work than think about him, and for a long while, you do.
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“Lieutenant, do you see that?” There’s a note of concern in Pike’s voice, and you follow his gaze to the horizon to your right.
It almost looks like a distant rain shower would on Earth, but there are green lights sparking all through it. Like lightning but less directional. You take a breath, and realise the metallic smell has intensified, to the point you can almost taste it.
“Yes, sir, I do.” You turn and meet Pike’s eyes.
“Plasma storm?”
“Plasma storm.” You redirect your scanner’s gain to maximum in that direction, sacrificing resolution elsewhere.
Pike’s tone is rueful. “Should’ve known when I scanned a burned patch of vegetation. It must have developed quickly.”
“Looks like it’s moving fast, too.”
“I’ll contact the rest of the away team, have them meet us at the shuttle. You start packing.”
“Sir,” you reply, distracted, already deep in the scanner readouts. You vaguely hear Pike calling Spock, then La’an, but you’re focused on one last scan.
“Lieutenant? I gave you an order.”
“Yes sir, you did, but look.” You point to the readout of the storm’s speed on the screen. “Scans show that even if we leave right now, we can’t make it back to the shuttle before the storm hits. We don’t even have time for them to pick us up.”
Pike frowns. “Options?”
“The cliff. There’s a cave system behind it. I don’t think there’s an entrance close enough, but...”
“Phasers? All this dilithium makes it risky.”
“Plasma burns are no fun, sir. I would know.”
He raises a brow. “Sounds like a story for later. All right. Let’s do this.”
You grab your phaser from your holster and dial the power up.
“Fire.”
You focus your beam on the weakest spot, and Pike fires at it too. And... nothing happens, for long enough for a shade of doubt to creep in. Then there’s a sound, a pile of rubble, and a gap. Just large enough for a person.
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The cave is dark. It’s big, too, enough that the torches on your vests can’t illuminate the other side from where you are.
The storm is still raging outside, but the sound of it is quiet in here; the narrow space you opened the gap into curved round for a few metres before opening out into the space you’re in.
Now all you can do is sit and wait.
And you’re so aware of Pike, sitting with you.
He’s quiet, and now you come to think of it he has been all day. Definitely no flirting. You try to steal a glance at him, see what he’s thinking, but it’s too dark, and you don’t want to turn to face him.
You cast around for a distraction, and find a piece of dilithium embedded in the rock floor of the cavern next to you. The surface is flat and glassy-smooth, but with a few imperfections, and you like the feel of it under your fingers. In your head you go over the dilithium crystal eigenstates you memorised at the academy in one of your classes in warp field mechanics, and calculate the power output you would need for your phaser to trigger different levels.
“Sir, I’d like to try something, to give us some more light. It’s safe.”
“Sure. Go ahead.”
You adjust your phaser to its second lowest setting, scoot across a little and fire on the dilithium, counting seconds in your head. It starts glowing red immediately, but as you shut the beam off the glow spreads, along one vein, then another, then another, until the whole cavern is lit up like its own galaxy, surrounding you on the floor, the walls, the ceiling.
“Wow, that’s—that’s good work. Thank you.”
There’s something in his expression as he looks at you, the wonder in his eyes melting into a smile, that makes you brave.
“So… I had an—an interesting chat with Chapel and Ortegas the other day.”
“Oh?”
“Apparently the scuttlebutt is that we’re dating... we’ve been dating for a while. They wouldn’t believe me when I told them it wasn’t true.” You stare out across the cavern at all the glimmering lights.
“Oh.” He exhales. “Hah, yeah… I’m, uh, sorry about that? Things… got away from me.” You hear him stir, move into a different position.
You frown. “I don’t understand. What are you sorry for?”
“I’ve always been interested in you. And you’re not the sort of person that’s cowed by rank – Paulson is your superior, in your chain of command, but I was in the bar when he asked you to dinner, and you were so sure of yourself when you rejected him. So that day in the turbolift, Una and Erica jumping to conclusions... Your face was a picture, and I had to take Una’s bait. But by the time she told me there was already a rumour, you were joining in, and I—”
His voice goes quiet, like a confession.
“I couldn’t stop. And that wasn’t fair to you… making you an object of gossip like that.”
“Chris, I—” but now it comes to it, you can’t find the words. How do you tell him that you wouldn’t mind, not at all, if only the gossip were real? “But you did stop. We’ve barely spoken today. Until now.”
“I can read the room. You weren’t up for it the other night. Or today. And… I would never force my attentions where they clearly aren’t wanted.”
“But... they are, Chris. They are wanted.”
The cavern is dead quiet, and you almost wonder if you actually spoke aloud. But the look in Pike’s eyes when you finally turn to meet them—
“Lieutenant Spock to Captain Pike. Come in, please.”
Pike shrugs a little, face apologetic, as he flips open his communicator.
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The ride back to the Enterprise is as quiet, and bumpy, as the ride to the planet. Spock and the rest of the away team had sheltered in the shuttle with shields up while the storm passed over them, and when the Enterprise’s scanners had shown that another one was forming, they came to pick you up.
All the equipment you left outside was destroyed.
But you think, as you climb in the shuttle, you catch a glimpse of one of those star-shaped flowers, still intact. Still blooming.
And Pike makes a point to catch your eye as you leave the shuttle bay. It’s subtle, but you recognise the invitation.
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You think you can smell food as you press Pike’s door chime, and the scent only gets more appetising as you walk in. The lights are low, apart from the fire burning brightly, and Pike pauses, apron on over his gold uniform, to smile at you as you walk over to the kitchen area.
“You came.”
“Of course.”
He picks a small bottle up, and pours from it into a salad bowl in front of him. “I hope you’re hungry… I may have gone a little overboard on the mac and cheese. I thought we could use a little comfort food after that planet.”
“It smells amazing. Anything I can do to help?”
“It’s almost ready. You could pour the wine?” He indicates to the bottle and two glasses on one end of his L shape table. You uncork the chilled bottle and take care of the drinks while he brings plates, salad, and the macaroni cheese, piping hot and smelling delicious.
Sitting next to Chris, rather than opposite like you might at a restaurant or on the other side of the L as you have when you’ve been to crew meals here, feels so intimate. As he reaches over to get some salad, or you go to pick up your glass to sip some chardonnay, you can’t help but touch. You try not to let being this close to him distract you… as intimate as this is, as hopeful as you are, nothing is settled.
You take a bite of your pasta and sigh. “It’s perfect, Chris. Creamy, the cheese— everything. Perfect comfort food. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” You see him relax a little as you load up another forkful; he cares what you think.
You eat for a while in companionable quiet, then he takes a breath.
“I’m planning on demoting Spock. He has the worst timing.” He quirks one of those half smiles at you, the kind that make you melt a little, but then his expression goes serious.
“My position on this ship… I have to be careful of it. Your training – everyone’s training – tells you to do as I say. So, if I’m… interested… in someone, usually I try to set that aside.” He puts his fork down and shakes his head a little. “Clearly I didn’t do well on that score with you. But… I would have to be sure, before I truly pursue anything, that a person isn’t saying yes because of my rank.”
“I told myself that flirting was just a joke between us. That you don’t get involved with your crew. I want it to be real, but when people assumed that it was… It spooked me for a moment there.” You turn to face him more fully, to look into his eyes.
“I understand what it means for you to be Captain Pike. I understand that the Enterprise comes before me. But I felt that—that pull toward you, long before whatever this was started. It’s not your rank, your position of authority, Chris, it’s you.”
Chris stands from his chair, reaching a hand out to you. You stand and take it, his fingers warm in yours, and let him draw you to him, feeling the press of his body all along yours. You stare into his eyes, and see a wonder there that you’re sure he sees in your eyes too – the knowledge that you can finally have this. But then your eyes drift shut as he kisses you, gently, unhurried, savouring the moment.
You part for just a second, and then it gets passionate as you kiss him back, one hand on his chest, while his other hand finds its way to your lower back, holding you tighter. Your lips part, his tongue finds yours and you taste him, and you can’t get enough.
“So I know your shots are up to date,” Chris says, voice gravelly, when you pause for breath. “Would you like to take this to the bedroom?”
“Yes please.” You don’t care if you sound needy; you just want him. He takes your hand again and leads the way.
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You are not quite sure what happened to your dress. You remember Chris helping you take it off last night, but quite how it got this crumpled is a bit of a mystery. You lift it up from the floor, and try to shake it out, not very successfully.
“Breakfast is served,” Chris says, looking fresh and neat in his uniform, not a hair out of place. No evidence to be seen of your activities last night, or how little sleep he may have had. “Oh, did you want a new uniform? I can synthesise one.”
“No need. I’ll have time to change in my quarters before shift.” You pull it on and try to smooth your skirt. “Breakfast?”
“Waffles. And real maple syrup. I know this little farm—”
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It isn’t far from Pike’s quarters to the turbolift, and the officers in the corridor nod and smile to you as usual. Until you meet Lieutenant Ortegas.
She looks you up and down, taking in your creased dress with a raised brow and a sly smile. “I saw the duty rosters; I know you’re on alpha today. So… you get lucky last night?”
You try to hide your smile, but you feel too good – you don’t really want to.
“Yes, Erica, I did.”
Everyone will know, but you don’t mind. You and Chris are at the start of something special.
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hpowellsmith · 1 year
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Hello there! I've been wanting to replay the older Baldur's Gate games, and was searching around for mlm NPC romance mods. I saw yours mentioned and found your site with some googling, but it seems the place they were hosted at is gone now (Spellhold Studios). I was wondering if you still have the mods available somewhere? Either way, I hope you have a great day!
OK, this has made go down a modding-community rabbit hole! I hadn't done anything with our Baldur's Gate 2 mods, or looked at them really, since 2015 and I really appreciate it because they're something that brought my wife and I a ton of joy, and they were the first interactive narratives I made.
Links, descriptions, and comments below because it is Long:
I got in touch with folks on the Gibberlings3 forum which is, wonderfully, still going strong, and have given permission for Faren and Nathaniel to be uploaded to the Spellhold Studios GitHub (which has a bunch of other mods too - do check out Adrian, Isra, and Ninde in particular!) to the team maintaining it. That may be a little while as some of the team are ill right now, but once I hear that it's done, I'll post about it here; I've also been pointed to some links where the mods were mirrored. Note that I haven't tested these myself on a current BG2 install, but it is easy to uninstall WeiDU mods if there's a problem.
Faren is a bisexual True Neutral fighter/thief (I can't remember if he's dual-classed or multi-classed) who's easygoing, down-to-earth, and up for partying, with a bit of a checkered past - his adventuring party died in one of the dungeons you can visit in BG2, and since then he's been picking up dodgy jobs, feeling a bit adrift, and trying to get his life back on track. That's where the PC comes in! You can befriend him or romance him (starting with either a casual or more committed tone, then committing further if you want to), and he has a personal quest in which a shady figure from his past wants him to do one last job. He was our third mod, and we'd developed our skills with writing and scope a lot by then. When I play BG2, I play with Faren! You can currently download Faren here. It's the version updated in 2015 with more banters with modded NPCs and the Enhanced Edition characters; there may be compatibility issues installing it with other newer mods but do give it a try.
I found The Luxley Family, which was our second mod, on the GitHub here. From a cursory (rusty) glance it looks like it should be compatible with Enhanced Edition, but the storyline is only for Shadows of Amn and doesn't continue into Throne of Bhaal. Sebastian and Andrei (Chaotic Neutral bard with a custom kit and Lawful Neutral monk respectively) are members of a mysterious, reclusive family who are under a curse. Sebastian's a worldly playwright who's showing his polite but moody teenage cousin Andrei the sights when they bump into the PC. They aren't romanceable, but you can have a fling with Sebastian, who's bisexual, if you let/help him mess up his life sufficiently.
Nathaniel is a Lawful Good gay fighter with a lot of feelings. He was our first mod and I am really proud of the impact he had on a lot of people and even other games back in the day, but if you play, go in expecting a LOT of feelings good and bad, relationship drama, and angst! (There's something very sad about the fact that as teens we could not imagine a D&D setting without homophobia back then; the idea of a knightly order thinking well of gay people just didn't cross our minds. it's extraordinary how much better a lot of things are now, including the queerness in D&D streams, books, and of course Baldur's Gate 3. Interestingly, we didn't include homophobia in the Luxley Family or Faren and I don't remember how conscious that was; maybe we'd become more hopeful by then.) You can download an outdated version of Nathaniel here but I don't think it will be compatible with Enhanced Edition.
Thank you so much for messaging! I didn't realise they weren't able to be downloaded anymore and I am really keen for digital art to be preserved (as well as players getting to smooch hot guys, of course).
(Digression - my wife and I have a couple of almost-finished mods on our computer: a lesbian cleric of Talos which she wrote, and a bi Valygar romance that I wrote. And, if it's among two computers' ago worth of external hard drive storage, the ending for the Luxley Family story. Who knows, maybe one day...)
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severevoiddragon · 2 months
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Making my own post bout the pc building thing because it's got me fuming again. I don't even remember if I've made a post bout this before but. I need to again.
So, my school got donated a bunch of gaming pcs. We could volunteer to build them, and me and my partner (we were building it in pairs) were the only two girls. The company who made the pcs came in to help us build it correctly. You can guess who got the most 'help' while building it.
The most infuriating bit was:
Me: Excuse me, our PC isn't working
Person: *silently walks over* Oh your PC isn't working!
Me:
Me: No, it's not. I think it's an hdmi issue, since we followed all the instructions correctly, according to the other helpers, up until plugging the monitor in, so I think it's the cable?
P, ignoring me: You've probably installed it incorrectly. *Checks the pc* hm. It seems okay. Alright, it could be with how you've plugged in the GPU.
Me: Could it be the hdmi cable, tho?
P, still ignoring me: Huh. *Goes to get his colleague* can you find what's wrong with this pc, since it's not turning on, even though the lights are on!
Me: I think it might be an hdmi issue!
My partner: It's probably an hdmi issue?
P, ignoring both of us: I've checked the GPU, and the installation of the Motherboard.
Colleague: Could it be the installation of the cores? But they're all lit up! That's weird!
*this continued for a bit, cut to the head of the PC company coming over*
Head of PC Company: What's the problem?
P: Their PC isn't turning on.
Me: I've tried to say it may be a—
CEO, cutting me off: Let me look! *Checks PC* Surprisingly, it has been installed correctly. Could it be an hdmi cable issue?
Me, internally: AJSKEKFWKDKDKSKRKFKSJWJRKDKWRK
P and Colleague: Ohhh we haven't tried that!
*someone grabs a new hdmi cable. Lo and Behold, the pc works now.*
This is part of the reason I kinda don't wanna go into compsci, even tho I enjoy it- Like, me and my partner and my compsci teacher were the only girls in the room. It was a room full of about 40 people.
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fraternum-momentum · 11 months
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youtube
I know this is extremely out of pocket of me to recommend this random youtube video that i listened to while i was typing stuff. But this made me think about that one post with a bunch of people thinking that fictional characters are real people with real feelings and very entitled people. I wanted to ramble about the former.
mad rambling continued under the cut
While the video doesn't specifically talk about this issue? problem? phenomenon? There was this part where CJ told a story about seeing an ipad kid play this minigame. All the kid knew was that if they tapped the screen, it would react accordingly, but at one point, the game required them to drag something. Naturally, the kid didn't know that because they were young, so their next reaction was to try to rip the screen off to remove the object they needed to drag.
The kid did not know that the objects on the screen were real because they hadn't learned that yet.
And theoretically, if we were to apply that same principle to the people in the post i mentioned, you can kinda begin to understand why they act like that, right? I'm not saying they don't know that these fictional characters aren't real, but i think the lines are extremely blurred to them.
The internet is a wonderful place where you can form real connections with real human beings from across the globe. You can make friends even by just sending messages or memes and shit. And I think maybe this is the same type of bond they unintentionally form with these fictional characters. Since, well, I assume most of these people are terminally online, it's not really all that farfetched? If most, if not all of your connections are formed online, it wouldn't be surprising that the lines between fiction and reality are blurred. When they spend most of their time living on the internet, the internet becomes their reality.
These characters may not be true, but they do form a really deep connection to them that they start treating them as if they were real. They worry about their 'emotions' or how their favourite is 'feeling' or how they are being 'treated'.
They're in so deep in this illusion that they don't even know that it's weird. Especially when it's so easy to cocoon yourself inside an echo chamber, this behavior is normal to them because no one is questioning it.
At the end of the day, it's all just speculation. If i could, I would like talk to these people out of sheer morbid curiosity. It's fascinating but also really sad and i feel for them. I still agree with what i said in the tags though (aside from all the pointing and laughing), they do really need a reality check.
Anyway, it was a really good video. It fundamentally changed my view on technology and social media in a span of a couple of hours. If you have the time, go watch it or listen to it in the background while you do something, or not, I don't really care, I just wanted to share it.
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henryshakesmear · 1 month
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Soo, since I recently gained a bunch of followers, I thought I'd make a lil introduction for my blog.
My name: Henry or any funny insult you can think of
My pronouns: He/him
My age: Legally 18
Where I'm from: Northern Germany
Languages I know: German and English fluently, some French and some Japanese
This is my main blog and I use it for memes, shitposts, fandom posts, my original art and some social commentary.
My wizardry gimmick blog is @youreawizardhenry
The mandatory terms and conditions for interacting with my blog:
(If you skip them, you're on your own)
If you're under the impression that you may be related to me, get the hell out 💀
I generally don't post sexually explicit content here, but I discuss/portray mature political and social topics. There will be violence, gore and possibly suggestive content in my art. So if you're under 18, be aware of the risks and if you're under 15, please don't delve into the depths of my account. I am, however, not going to try and check the age of everyone in my notes.
If you have a history of mental health issues and content concerning existential dread or suicidal ideation triggers you, this blog is NOT for you.
I don't censor words. This has come up as a problem in the past, so be aware. (No, this doesn't mean I throw slurs around. I only use slurs I can specifically reclaim, and even that rarely.)
I rarely reblog art by other people and I will make sure to point out which specifically is mine. I don't mind if you repost it or use it in good faith, as long as you don't pretend it's yours or use it to spread any kind of hate.
This is a safe space for ALL members of the LGBTQIA+ community. We do NOT remove the T and we do NOT exclude bi or pan or ace or aro people. The same goes for microlabels. Everytime you complain about how many genders there are, we invent five more.
This is also a safe space for people of color, people of any ethnicity, people from any country, neurodivergent people, mentally ill people, disabled people, chronically ill people, therians and furries. (I'm not too educated on some of these topics, but the general rule of thumb is if it doesn't hurt anyone, it's safe here.)
I'm an atheist and I will criticize some aspects of religion or make fun of it lightheartedly, but religious people are also welcome here.
What I will NOT tolerate: Nazis, pedos, racism, xenophobia, misogyny, homophobia, transphobia, TERFS, hate directed at any specific kind of queer people, ableism, fatphobia, slutshaming, both religious doctrine AND anti-religious hate, hardcore capitalists because they just annoy me, Tate's boyfriends, proshippers that consider pedophilic or incestuous ships to be okay, rape culture, people who make light of any sort of abuse, any kind of unwarranted harrassment, ragebait and advertisements/self-promotions.
I block fanfiction writers because I don't want to see fanfiction on my dash. It's not personal.
I'm cringe, I'm aware of it, I will continue to be cringe and you cannot stop me.
If you send me an unsolicited dick pic, you'll get one back.
(This section may be subject to changes in the future)
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The "No" campaign against the Voice is really lucky that the "Yes" campaign seems to br run by a bunch of old wethers (old slang term for a gelding). Also the "Yes" campaign seem to have no idea how to market or connect to normal ordinary people, which intellectuals and activists are not and never will be (see also the last 20+ years of conspicuous failure to force Australian voters to accept unauthorised immigration by boat despite the Australian people making it repeatedly clear that they do not want this).
boy howdy. you have come to the wrong person if you want sympathy with this argument. but right, okay. let's talk about it
the "yes" campaign is falling behind at the moment, and I continue to be frustrated at the way the campaign is being run. the "no" campaign is, however, not being run any better. they're simply benefiting from the age-old tradition of appealing to the status quo in times of crisis and confusion. they've also been helped by the facts that:
we're currently in a cost of living crisis, so many people no longer have the energy or resources to engage in the news
the AEC pamphlet was not fact-checked, so now they've got an official essay full of lies (but this time it has the AEC logo on it)
I think there's still time for the "yes" campaign to catch-up, but it doesn't happen by wringing our hands about how far behind we've fallen. it's true that what's being said at the federal level does matter, but the "yes" campaign is ALL OF US. anyone who is planning to vote yes can be part of the campaign by doing the number one thing that has been proven to be able to change minds.... talking to friends and relatives, having no-judgement conversations about the issues, and politely/carefully fact-checking people when they start to talk bogus
right, no we turn to the humdinger of a comparison you've got there. "unauthorised immigration by boat"
that is not a good example in any sense of the word
political elites are also very against refugees
completely free "unauthorised immigration" has never been on the table for either of the major parties
the Australian people have been lied to for years about refugee policy
you may call me biassed here. I'm a card-carrying member of the Greens party. I went to my first pro-refugee march under the Rudd Labor government, and spent most of my childhood helping my parents with their refugee action activism. so like. whatever. I'm not the most neutral party if we wanna talk "opinions about refugees"
but you cannot say that the Australian people are entirely against the idea of welcoming more refugees into our country without acknowledging the type of fear mongering that has happened here for as long as I've been alive. xenophobia. racism. ableism. it never stops. the Liberal Party sending out a message about successfully intercepting a boat during an election blackout period. the Labor Party straight up refusing to talk about their refugee policy, because they knew it would turn their base against them
it's not "elites trying to convince Australians that we want refugees". it's "politicians turning refugees into a political point in order to justify their mistreatment of vulnerable people from overseas". I don't know who wants complete unauthorised access to Australia, but that's not a legitimate position that has been floated in Australia. the position has been "stop locking traumatised people in cages while you deliberately take ages to process their paperwork" AND "stop trying to deport people who have been here, causing no trouble, for years"
and do you know what? it's not even true that most Australians don't want refugees. in 2022, 29% of people wanted Australia to close our borders to refugees while 68% believe that refugees make a positive contribution to Australia. it's the politicians who are lagging behind here, not the Australian people
this has been a clusterfuck of a post, so I'll do a TLDR:
talk to your friends and family about the referendum, get involved in the campaign, it is not too late
both of the major parties hate refugees in Australia, so that is both a buckwild and inaccurate comparison
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lavenoon · 2 years
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When it comes to the boys is there anything they may be super casual about that Robin may just look at them and either go "What are you doing??" or "Wait a second, you need that?"
I continue tackling old asks <3
So for this, there might be a bunch that'll seem like it should have come up sooner and only didn't because I didn't think about it before this ask. Thanks for giving me the opportunity to ponder those human/ animatronic differences - they're my bread and butter!
The first thing that surprised Y/N was pretty soon after Sun moved in - he didn't technically need it, but the boys like setting up their charging station a bit. So Sun asked to make some minor alterations to the house. Comparable to uhhh maybe a charging station to an electrical car at home, just not quite the same dimensions? To Sun/Moon it means quicker charging as well as better equipment compared to "travel" set ups.
Y/N, while they didn't expect it, did tell him to make those alterations as he sees fit, because they are a bad landlord and don't really care - in their mind he lives there, and should live comfortably!
There's also the check-ups. Like any human should go to the GP even without acute issues every now and then, animatronics need check-ups too! But the first time it comes up it's a moment of "Oh right that makes sense, why did that never occur to me?"
The boys can do a good bunch of repairs by themselves, more so than the average animatronic I'd say. Their trust in engineers (especially human engineers) has taken a significant hit after the Eclipse battery issue, and they decided they'll learn a bit more about their inner workings.
(I don't think animatronics in general would just know how to do their own repairs. Like Robin thinks in First Aid - that's like expecting a human to do their own surgery. Possible, sure, for some things - but definitely not the standard. How many humans have medical knowledge on the level of a doctor without being a doctor? Takes active research into personal health issues, and that's exactly what our celestial brothers did. Eclipse, too. His trust into engineers took the greatest hit - the first one he met turned out to cut corners for profit, and was dishonest. So these three are a little special, but they have their reasons)
Despite all that, they do try to get a full body check-up at least once a year. They also have to replace their finger joints and casing more often than would technically be necessary with normal wear and tear, but Sun has a nervous habit of wringing them until they creak while also hating the dents it causes.
They can also detach limbs without great issues. I imagine it similarly to fullmetal alchemist automail, where it's uncomfortable for a split second when "nerves" get de/ attached, but otherwise it's just. There's no lingering/ constant pain, so they can detach hands, arms, and legs pretty easily. The hands are extra because they have the separate circuits, and the tasers may need specific maintenance.
If, at some point after the First Aid blowout (or, well, blowup) the boys decide to keep a few replacement parts on hand (not like, a whole second body, because that's too expensive, but just like. A couple custom parts, every now and then, as long as the joint wallet agrees), it makes for a funny little moment of Y/N picking up a package for them, taking it inside, and going "oh, this is kinda heavy, what did you order? if you wanna share" "oh, just another arm. ordered the left one last month, now we have one of each in storage." And Y/N just stands there internally screaming because the thought of just. Ordering an arm for when you might need to replace your old one is just not really something they can empathize with, and their attempts of course lead to more imagined body horror.
Generally I'd say that Y/N sometimes slips into making the two human in their mind, not just people. They don't mean to, but they didn't interact this much with many animatronics (if any) before, and didn't know any as well as Sun/Moon, so they just. Fumble.
Like Sun/Moon complaining about squeaking joints, and they just hesitantly get some WD-40 to offer the boys, like "Is this gonna help? It works for doors but I don't want to say you're like a door" while the boys just die on the inside trying not to laugh
(I don't know if they could use WD-40. Gut instinct says yes, but I simply don't trust my gut like that lmao)
The boys also make a couple memory back ups every now and then, just in case. It wouldn't be able to replace their AI should anything happen to them, but if their memory cards are fried they can check things out again, and they could show Y/N their memories, like videos! Y/N also needs a bit to adjust to that. It's sweet to see how much focus they received from the start, and to see how hard Sun/Moon tried to do well by them, but it's also literally seeing themself through someone else's eyes, and that's not something a human would just expect is possible
In that vein - if they ever mention they can just share their memories with each other, Y/N is gonna need a moment to grapple with that (before demanding an explanation why they don't do that, because it would have saved them all a lot of grief if they'd compared notes on their rival and neighbor. Not too accusingly, because Y/N feels guilty for missing the signs themself, but just a bit of "Why wasn't this an option?")
There's also the curiosity about just, constantly running programs. All the sensors for the boys - seeing and hearing work better than for a human, touch is different but it's hard to explain how, more deliberate with the option to exclude circuit areas easily, and smell is a little less sensitive, comparable to electronic "noses" that also gives them some idea of how things would taste, but otherwise that sense just entirely falls off the table. Where and how electricity is running, where are which sensors, what sort of temperature regulation do they have? (They run just a little colder than humans when at rest, and no one with gaming laptops come at me, I'm basing this off my own laptop PLUS I'm giving them better fans/ tech).
Y/N would be curious to learn about all that, because they want to love all of the boys, and want to know all they can. But I don't think they'll ever learn as much to do repairs single-handedly - they don't see why they have to, frankly. They don't want to think of the boys broken so badly that no one else would even offer to help, and otherwise just assumes situations like First Aid, where they can just carry out instructions while the boys are incapacitated. They learn how to recognize terms and what screw goes where and which cable does what, but they don't get the intricacies of it all because despite everything, they are not an engineer for animatronics and I'm not making them one gfhdj
Think that's it for now, that's already 1.2K words too so! Hope that's some fun then <3
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(I can see why… it is such a shame. Maybe it’s the text after all, or maybe it’s the lack of interest in a crossover between these two canons? Hmm…)
(I’m hoping my recap might help with some of the issue, replacing a whole bunch of text with just one bit. If only I could make images show on here without things bugging like they did when I tried to make a poem visually show up on the old blog. Then again, the amount of content would probably break the file size limit if it was all done in the program I use for visuals. (Though who knows, maybe it’s just the new blog format that Tumblr makes new blogs like this one use.))
(Hm, maybe I can work on adapting some of the key scenes into visual format, and then link to where those scenes are? It’d be from Flowey’s POV since I can’t show him, of course. We did get confirmation most of those are canon-compatible, maybe I can bring my reporter character back to the main blog report on this development, now we have real footage of some of that lost time, since it was alluded to before in a previous appearance of the reporter. While of course making it clear this doesn’t necessarily mean all FUTURE content on here is canon, just because everything that happened here so far is compatible doesn’t mean mistakes won’t happen in the future (or, in-universe, the person making the footage faking things) I’ll do my best to avoid contradicting anything, and you can review things later on like you mentioned a while back.)
(Hopefully that should boost things. If not, and we can’t keep this going, maybe we’ll just do what we already would have done if it was discovered something in here broke canon-Where we simply go over a broad overview of what happened in here, so that this arc is still “finished” in a way. If my reporter character ever reports on THAT, it’ll probably be interpreted as the whatever was being used to make the footage breaking, and the rest being this source giving a written account of what else happened)
(For those of you who wanted more of the backstory, well, I may return to it, but it’s now no longer a regular update anymore. There has been one since the post I gave before happened, though, on schedule like I said would happen. But now, I might just shift my attention to visually adapting scenes that happened on this blog.)
(If I ever adapt the old blog (probably the last thing I’d adapt), then during Monika’s time in Flowey’s world, I plan on using the Overworld tool made by the same person that made the Undertale Text Box Generator. This also means you’ll see Monika in Undertale’s style. But that’s far off in the future, this side blog is the one I’m trying to boost after all.)
(Any ideas on what moments would be best to adapt first? What should be highlighted in a potential report on the CONFIRMED footage of Flowey’s time in this other world? What might get enough people curious on what else happened in here to want to check out the blog? Or, alternatively, if the issue is people not being able to keep up.. what set of scenes would be enough to set the stage so everyone is on the same page..?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
(I think I can transfer your files into pictures that can be shown directly on tumblr. I just have to take screenshots of the frames, edit them so they are assembled into comic strips, take a picture of that, and then put it on tumblr!
(You can technically do that too, but I personally have bad experiences with submitting multiple photos at once onto blogs. The images typically get jumbled out of order.
(If the visual boosts don't work, I doubt I'm going to feel much more motivated to continue, so it'd probably be best to end the arc like you said. We'd still have Monika and Flowey interactions- just not on this blog. Even if we do end up returning to the main blog, I agree to either keep using visual representations or to cut down on text so that nothing gets clogged.
(Trust me, I love reading the effort you put into these posts, but many viewers lose interest quickly.
(The scenes I think we should highlight in visual format should include:
*Convincing Monika to go back to the club
*Flowey entering w/ Monika & Sayori for the first time
*Poems day 1
*Girls comforting Sayori about her sad poem
*Natsuki/Flowey challenge to baking competition
*I void planning how to reveal truth to girls
*Sayori wanting to code Ivan back & Flowey wanting to get Chara back
*Preparing to go to Monika's house
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kamiko1234 · 3 months
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Okay! So ,I have reached about a third of chapter 9 of TLO and ngl I'm getting rly tired now. So please excuse me if this post is a bit less energetic than the others. Anyway so APPARENTLY THERE'S A CURSE OF ARCHILLIES NOW!? AND BOTH LUKE AND PERCY HAVE IT???? Ngl when it was mentioned that weapons didn't work on Luke/Kronos earlier I honestly assumed it was, well- Kronos and his frankly OP powers doing this. Luke's body "being prepared" reffering to what I assumed was just a bunch of training. NEVER in my life could I have thought that there was a Archilles Curse involved. I wonder what Luke's weak spot is, and what he may have seen when he bathed. Probably Thalia and Annabeth, May too with a good chance. Also ffs what the HADES was that with Nico!? Headcanon that Percy got some good Luke flashbacks there lmao. (Atleast Nico did go back on the "betrayal" at the end) Honestly, at this point I'm starting to feel bad for the guy, as genuinly apathetic as I am to him in every other aspect at this point. Then again with his curse Percy definitely got something cool going on again! I hope that'll be able to spark some intrigue in me again. Ngl I'm PRAYING it'll go like that because in his basics I do like the guy, I just think his issues and stuff are just boring compared to everyone else as of now. Also love how Percy decided to just- pull up with 40 demigods on what's basically Zeus' front door to tell him to get off his ass. Say what you want that move is badass. NGL I'm also hyped for the scene of a young luke with Thalia but I wanna save that for a time where I am NOT actively wishing to fall asleep. So I'll deffo check that one out tomorrow! On an off note, I have decided that I'm going to end this series of me posting about reading the books after the end of this one. I do still plan on reading the rest of the books ofc, but Ido want to return to posting stuff besides pjo on my main blog again. I also want to get into the fandom. Which will inevitably lead to me seeing spoilers (dw it's fine, ik it's unavoidable). And tbh I don't rly think the series has any real appeal continuing with spoilers, since the point is sharing my view as a first time reader with little to no influence and previous knowlege. Not to worry though! I plan on opening a pjo side blog once I'm done with the OG series where I'll occasionally post my thoughts on the books as I read them. Just not as regulary as I do on here.
As always I ask everyone to please not spoil me^^
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ezeviction · 2 years
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How To Proceed After A Tenant Is Evicted/ Forcibly Removed From Your Rental Property
 
Presentation;
 
Expulsions are only from time to time pleasant for both of the gatherings in question. Notwithstanding, landowners ought to know about precisely very thing to do next in the wake of expelling an occupant. When responsibility for investment property is gotten back to you, having an arrangement or a game-plan in place is urgent.
 
3,255 expulsion claims were documented in the city of Los Angeles alone lately, as per evictionlab.com. These numbers have without a doubt expanded because of the Coronavirus scourge. This just underlines that it is so significant to have a bit by bit plan set up for what to do when you have effectively ousted a tenant.
 
Stage 1: Supplant the Locks on Your Rental Home;
 
The second they drive away following the sheriff lockout is the best opportunity to change the locks on your investment property in the wake of recovering control. Changing the locks the day in the wake of ousting a leaseholder is best finished with the assistance of a trustworthy jack of all trades or an authorized locksmith. You couldn't say whether the occupant has a bunch of keys to return into your property or on the other hand if any other individual does. Play it safe. Make this your first and most pivotal post-removal move.
Stage 2: Through Examination of Your Rental Unit completely;
 
When your investment property has been appropriately gotten, now is the ideal time to return and give it a full assessment. Bring a new duplicate of your walkthrough rundown and move-in examination so you can look at them. Take anything that photos you consider pertinent, particularly assuming your investment property has been harmed. Regardless of you, the landowner, occupants regularly harm your property in the wake of losing a removal activity. Be that as it may, don't overreact, there are ways of getting your harms paid for.
 
Commonplace and An Unquestionable requirement to Check Spots Are As per the following;
 
Review the kitchen and washroom for shape (s).
Cover Disintegration.
Boards/walls with openings and paintwork messes.
Look for spills close to the latrine, kitchen, and restroom spigots.
Defective window locks and broken windows.
Different machines, for example, a water warmer, which are incorporated with the investment property understanding.
Stage 3: Present a Harm Case in Court for Little Cases;
 
You can document a little cases case and win a judgment to recuperate harms in the event that your leaseholder resulted in a significant measure of harm on your investment property following an expulsion.
 
Note: This is a choice to consider, for the most part contingent upon the circumstance.
Stage 4: Prepare the Investment property;
 
Now is the right time to return your investment property available subsequent to assessing the harms brought about by removing an occupant. You ought to as of now have an arrangement set up to prepare your property for lease, expecting your ousted inhabitant didn't cause a lot of harm past the standard mileage. Demand the administrations of your jack of all trades to fix little issues, steam clean the rug, paint the walls, and do a careful cleaning. If your leaseholder harmed your property prior to moving out, you ought to consider redesigning it to expand its worth or playing out the necessary fixes to return it available.
Stage 5: Carry out Any Changes Appropriate And Applicable To Your Technique.
 
It's urgent to gain from our mix-ups after your rental is back available so you don't make similar ones once more. Might you at any point distinguish the blunder you made? Did you sidestep your cautious screening system? Did you follow your intuition? Are there any progressions or issues with your rent that should be made? Maybe an opening your removed tenant found?
 
Keeping away from the Requirement for Removals Regardless;
 
Removals can leave you with an exceptionally horrendous persistent flavor. They can be tedious and costly. Continuously attempt to hold expulsions back from occurring in any case. All things considered, it is far more straightforward to turn down an occupant while the application cycle is still underway than it is to remove them after you have given them the keys. Effective and prepared landowners remember a couple of rules to avoid inconvenience.
 
Continue talking, screening, and individual verifications at the actual first spot on your list of needs. This is consistently an admonition sign if your occupant makes it extreme for you in any capacity. Work on your business keenness and make a positive compatibility with your clients. An inhabitant is at last your customer, which might appear to be odd. Try not to make it challenging for your inhabitants to reach you. Message them on the off chance that you haven't heard from them in 15 days. It has a major effect.
 
End;
 
Better occupants will ordinarily be drawn in assuming you keep your investment property in astounding condition. Unquestionably the best will accomplish for good inhabitants. They won't yield. By keeping your home at rental market esteem, you can draw in the best occupants. Removals are an inescapable part of running an investment property. To get your business in the groove again at the earliest opportunity in the wake of removing a tenant, it's basic to stay cool headed and comply with the principles.
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helloalycia · 3 years
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overstepping [one] // jane banner (Wind River)
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summary: after getting several voicemails from your colleague and best friend with her asking for your backup, you attempt to call her back, only to get no answer.
warning/s: mentions of rape, murder and injuries.
author’s note: this is a two parter because i finally watched Wind River and it broke my heart but also lizzie was v cute and i felt the need to write this, hope you like it x
part two | masterlist | wattpad
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"C'mon, work you stupid phone," I complained for the millionth time, before standing on the chair to get a better signal.
When I saw the bars in the corner of the screen increase, a grin appeared on my lips. I loved my parents, but the fact that they lived in a remote cabin in Tennessee with zero signal was not my favourite thing.
When the bars remained, my phone decided to actually be helpful and receive all the messages, calls and voicemails I missed. I did a brief flick through, noticing nothing was too important that couldn't wait for me to return to work. As an FBI agent, I rarely got time off. And now that I had taken a two month vacation to spend with my parents, I was adamant on enjoying it, even if I was missing work a smidge.
Next were the calls, which I noticed were mostly from my colleague and close friend, Jane Banner. I furrowed my brows, realising she'd left me several voicemails, too, which was strange since she knew I was on a break from work. What could be so important?
I sighed, glancing down at my uncomfortable position standing on the chair and leaning above the wardrobe. It was the only place in the house with decent signal and the only other place that wasn’t in the middle of nowhere was twenty minutes out. Telling myself I'd just listen to one voicemail to make sure everything was okay, I played the earliest message.
"Hey, Y/N. I'm sorry, I know you're on a break, but I just had to talk to you," it began, and Jane sounded troubled. "I was in Vegas, as you know, but I've been called out to a reservation in Wyoming where this poor girl was–" She paused, releasing a shaky breath. "She was raped and left to die out in the cold. I thought I could send in another team to take a look – y'know, usual protocol. But the coroner won't rule it a homicide and you know what that means."
I swallowed hard, knowing exactly what that meant. If it wasn't ruled a homicide, no backup would come and we had to move onto the next case. But if this girl was raped and left to die, the rapist was still out there and wasn't getting caught by the FBI.
"I can't just leave it and go," Jane continued quietly, with that recognisable passion for her job evident in her voice. "I have to do what I can. But I... I can't do this alone. It's not like other cases, Y/N. It's different out here. And there's only so much their police department can do. I know you're on a break, but I was hoping that, maybe, you could come out here and help me? It's the Wind River Indian Reservation. That's it, I guess. Bye."
The message ended and I found myself chewing on my lower lip anxiously, unable to think about anything other than Jane now. She'd worried me with that one voicemail alone – I couldn't imagine what the others said.
She was usually so good at dealing with cases, but this seemed different. She sounded shaken up, attempting to put on a brave face by the sounds of it. What was so different about this case? She didn't need me. She was capable.
Curiosity got the better of me and I played the second message, ignoring the discomfort in my arms as I stretched to maintain the signal. It was left a day after the first one.
"Hey, so I just remembered that you said you don't get much signal up there with your parents," she began apologetically. "I don't mean to– shit, it's so cold..." There was a pause, a noise in the background, then she continued, "Sorry, just turning up the heating. Anyway, I was saying. I don't mean to intrude on your break. I just– I'm hoping you'll find signal and hear this because I could really use your help. I think we've got a lead on who may have done it. It was hectic today. Really could've used that backup."
She chuckled dryly at her attempt at a joke, but all I felt was guilt. She sounded exhausted within a day of being there.
"I hope you get this," she finished with a sigh. "I should go. Got a busy day tomorrow. Hope you're doing okay. Bye."
I wasted no time in playing the next message. Three days into her case.
"I don't know why I keep sending these," she began with a hoarse voice, and my heart clenched at the sound of it. "You clearly aren't getting them in time. But it's easier talking to you like this than not at all."
It went quiet, so quiet that I thought she may have finished and forgot to hang up. But then she spoke up again, a whimper escaping her lips.
"It's so hard," she admitted. "We've covered worse cases, but this one... everything about it makes me uncomfortable. Something doesn't feel right. I've got a lead – we think it might be the boyfriend who did it and we're gonna see him tomorrow. But I don't know."
I frowned, squeezing my phone tightly because I didn't recognise the girl speaking as my friend. This girl sounded broken and I wondered what she could have discovered that made her like this.
"I've got the police department with me for backup," she said with a sniffle. "And Cory, he's a hunter whose been helping me with the case. They're all gonna be with me tomorrow. But I wish you were here, too. You always make things easier."
The lump in my throat wouldn't disappear no matter how many times I swallowed it. She made things easier, too. Always. And all I wanted to was be by her side and be there for her like she always was for me.
"Sorry about this," she said with a watery laugh, and I could imagine the embarrassed smile on her face as she did. "I sound like such an idiot. Never mind these messages. Just enjoy your break. I shouldn't be worrying you like this. See you when you get back."
The message ended and I checked to see if there were anymore, but to my disappointment, there wasn't. That message was from a few days ago and she hadn't sent anything since which was concerning in itself.
Trying not to panic for no reason, I called Jane. Hopefully everything was okay and I was being stupid. She was a fully-trained FBI agent. She could take care of herself. Right?
The call rang and rang, but nobody picked up. One missed call. No biggie. She probably heard it and couldn't find her phone or something. So, I tried again.
More ringing and no answer. Okay, no big deal. Just try again.
Another call and no answer. The chewing on my lip became more intense. Why the hell wasn't she picking up? Was she still working the case?
I waited an hour, trying again at ten minute intervals, unable to fight my concern. But there was no answer every time and I realised that I couldn't sit and wait for her to call back. Not after how she sounded in those voicemails.
No, I had to go there. She needed backup.
Wyoming was way colder than I could have prepared for.
I mean, technically, I prepared for nothing. I bid my parents a goodbye, threw some random clothes in a bag and caught the next plane over there. I tried for Jane's phone constantly, knowing she was never one to ignore me for this long, but there was no point. She wasn't answering, which could only mean so much.
When I reached the reservation, I had no idea where anything was or what I was looking for exactly. I just knew that as soon as the taxi dropped me off in the centre of town, I didn't know where to go.
There were a lot of locals hanging around, so my first port of call was to ask them if they'd seen Jane around – or Agent Banner, as she may have introduced herself. I showed them a picture of her on my phone, described her with vivid detail, but they just stared at me like I was crazy. I was starting to believe I was at one point, until I stopped by the convenience store.
As worried as I was for Jane's whereabouts, the chill in my bones was real. Especially my hands, which I was certain would fall off any minute. So, I decided to buy some gloves and also ask the cashier if he'd seen Jane around or heard anything of her. Whilst I was doing that, a customer caught my attention, probably having overheard my conversation.
"Did you say Jane Banner?" he asked with a quirked brow, interrupting my purchase. "The FBI lady, right?"
I nodded quickly, facing him. "Yes, that's her! D'you know where she is?"
He nodded casually. "Yeah, she's in the hospital. That big shootout that happened a few days ago, right?"
My stomach dropped. "The what?"
"The shootout," he repeated, not aware of the concern in my face. "At the drill site. A bunch of officers were killed and the FBI lady was one of the only one left standing." He tutted as he shook his head. "Very lucky that one."
A shootout? The hospital? Only one left standing? No wonder she hadn't been answering her calls.
"Can you– do you–" I stopped, clearing my throat and trying to stop freaking out. "Which hospital?"
After getting the address from him, I caught a taxi to the only hospital in town and prayed to God that Jane was okay. The one thing she'd asked for was backup and I couldn't even give her that. If I'd just looked at my messages sooner... fuck.
Getting past the front desk and to Jane's room was no issue at all. A quick flash of my FBI badge was enough for the receptionist to give me the details and wave me through. My heart was constricting in my chest the longer it took. What if it was really bad? What if that customer's intel was outdated and Jane was– no. I couldn't afford to think like that.
Upon finding Jane's room, I spotted an older man leaving through the door, being careful to close it behind him. I didn't recognise him at all.
"Excuse me," I called, earning his attention. "Is that Jane Banner's room you just came from?"
He seemed surprised, glancing over his shoulder to make sure I was speaking to him, before nodding. "Yes. Sorry, who are you?"
I pulled my badge from my pocket and showed him, though I doubted anyone would take me seriously when my eyes were watering at thought of Jane being severely injured.
"I'm her friend," I said, swallowing down the lump in my throat before lowering my badge.
"Oh, you're the backup that didn't come," he said with realisation.
My eyes flickered to the floor guiltily. He wasn't exactly wrong.
"I didn't mean it like that," he added quickly. "Sorry, I didn't mean to upset you."
I shook my head, lifting my eyes to meet his. "It's okay. I should've... I should've been here." It went quiet as he didn't know what to say, so I looked to him halfheartedly. "I assume you're from the police department, one of the ones who helped Jane."
"Not exactly," he said, before putting out his hand for me to shake. "Name's Cory. I'm a hunter by trade."
Returning his handshake, I recalled Jane's voicemail. "Oh, yeah, she mentioned you... thank you for helping her out."
When I couldn’t, I added in my head.
He offered me a small smile and I couldn't find it in myself to return it. I must have looked like shit, since he gave me a pitiful gaze.
"You want me to catch you up before you go in?" he asked, nodding to Jane's door. "She's okay by the way."
I nodded, sucking up a breath. My nerves were eating away at me the longer I didn't see Jane – half of me was terrified of what I'd find, and the other half was afraid she'd be upset or angry because I left her to it, even when she pleaded for my help.
Cory and I took a seat down the hall and he proceeded to explain about the case and how they found the guy who raped that poor girl. The shootout was the worst bit, making me shiver with discomfort. Apparently, Jane had gotten blasted with a shotgun, puncturing her torso and neck despite the vest she wore. All of the officers with her were killed and by the sounds of it, Jane almost was, too. But Cory managed to take out the criminals and the rapist himself. When he was finished telling me, I had no words.
"She's a bit shaken up, but her surgery went well," Cory reassured with a short nod. "Does she know you're coming?"
I shook my head, voice thick with emotion. "She wouldn't answer her phone. I guess I know why now."
Cory nodded, rubbing the back of his neck before sparing me a consoling glance. "She talked about you a lot. I think it'll cheer her up seeing you. You should go."
My eyes met his, teary and stinging with unshed tears. "Thank you so much."
He shrugged bashfully, but he didn't realise all that he'd done. I gave him a small, tight smile before standing up with a sigh. No point dwelling anymore – I had to see her.
Pushing my selfish feelings aside, I sucked it up and approached Jane's room. She would either want to punch me or not, but either way, I had to see if she was okay. And so, when I opened the door slightly, heart racing in my chest, said heart jumped in my throat at the sight of her.
She was laying on the bed with wires stuck in her and, only from what I could see, bandages were covering the side of her neck. I thought she was sleeping at first, but then her head tilted towards the door curiously, and bright blue eyes widened with disbelief.
"Y/N?" she asked, raising her eyebrows. "What are you– how did you get here?"
I closed the door behind me and hesitantly approached her bedside, unable to stop my eyes from soaking in the sight of her. She looked so feeble and vulnerable and unlike how I saw her last. Then, Cory's words came back to me and I began to imagine the worst scenario of her getting shot, blood seeping from her wounds, the life draining from her eyes...
"Y/N," she called, and I looked to her startlingly, hoping I didn't look as troubled as I felt.
"Sorry," I said, clearing my throat. "I, er– the messages. Voicemail. I heard them and tried calling you back, but..."
She pursed her lips, exhaling with a wince and looking up at the ceiling, as if suddenly remembering she left messages in the first place.
"I'm sorry I didn't come sooner," I said quietly, guilt seeping back in.
"No, no, don't be," she said, and I just about noticed the pink dusting her cheeks. "It's not your fault. I shouldn't have interrupted your vacation like that. I know you said you wanted a break and–"
"Jane, no, don't even say that," I cut her off, reaching for her hand in an instant. She looked my way, eyes flickering between mine nervously. I squeezed her hand gently and said, "I should have been here. You needed me and I– I didn't come. Maybe if I had, this could have ended differently."
She tried to smile, but I could see the discomfort in her eyes. "It's not that bad, honestly. It just looks bad."
I pressed my lips together, eyes falling to the bandage on her neck. Even though it was big and covered her wound, I could still make out the bruising around it from the impact of the shell. I didn't imagine the torso wound looking any different, and that thought alone made me regret leaving her alone. It was very much as bad as it looked; I knew that and she knew that.
Her lips trembled as she avoided my eyes, her own tearing up. I pushed away my guilt momentarily and changed the subject.
"So, I met Cory. He seems like a great guy."
She didn't say anything as she seemed lost in thought. Either that or she was trying not to cry in front of me. I hoped it wasn't the latter, since the last thing I wanted was to make her feel uncomfortable.
"You know," I said, when she wouldn't speak, "I'm pretty sure I told you to stay safe before I left for my vacation."
At my poor attempt to lighten the mood, she cracked a small, tight smile, but a smile nonetheless, and my racing heart slowed down momentarily.
"I'm glad you're okay," I said, now that I had her attention again, and she looked my way with a softened expression. "Kind of okay. But you know... okay."
Thankfully, she knew what I meant and her hand tightened around mine.
"I'm glad you came," she returned, and I couldn't look away even if I tried. She was always able to trap me with a single gaze.
With a tug of her hand, she motioned for me to sit on the edge of her bed, so I did. And then she began to ask me about my vacation, what I'd been up to this past month, how my parents were... basically anything and everything except for the case. And it was understandable, since she was reminded of it all the time. If I could be a form of escapism for her, so be it. It was the least I could do.
We spoke for hours until the nurse came in to let me know visiting hours were over and I'd have to come back tomorrow. With a regretful sigh, I got up from my seat on her bedside and stretched my limbs.
"Where are you staying?" she asked, a slight frown on her lips.
I smiled awkwardly, realising I didn't think that far ahead. "I'm not gonna lie, I don't know. I came straight here. There's gotta be a hotel or something in this town, right?"
She nodded and flicked her hand to the shelves on the other side of the room. "You should stay in my room in the inn. Key's in my bag over there."
"Oh, I don't have to do that–"
"Y/N, it's not like I'm going to be staying there anytime soon," she cut me off, smiling halfheartedly. "Please."
I chewed on my lip and nodded, giving in. When I grabbed her keys from her bag, I stopped by her bedside and gave her a supportive smile.
"I'll back first thing in the morning, if you don't mind," I said, and she finally gave me a smile that reached her eyes.
"I'd like that."
I nodded, resting a hand on hers and squeezing comfortingly. "Goodnight."
Though I knew Jane was okay, I still couldn't stop myself from thinking about her all night. The sight of her wounds and the broken expression on her face was enough to keep me awake. And the guilt that came with it all... why couldn't I have just picked up my damn phone?
As promised, I returned to Jane's hospital room the next morning, this time bringing some breakfast snacks from the hospital cafeteria since I knew the food would be much better than whatever they were serving her. Judging by the content expression on her face when I gave it to her, I was right.
When she finished eating, she was able to sit up slightly and move over on her bed, urging for me to join her and watch some TV with her. There was no way I was going to turn down that offer, so I slid next to her and kept a packet of sliced apples between us as we watched whatever was playing on the TV.
About halfway through watching, she spoke up randomly, taking me by surprise.
"When are you leaving?"
I tore my gaze from the screen and realised she was staring at me with intense green eyes.
"When you're well enough to," I answered truthfully.
She looked down to her hands. "You don't have to stay with me. You can go."
I studied her profile, knowing it was the wrong time to appreciate how stunning she looked even when she was makeup-free, sporting a bed head and tired.
"Do you want me to go?" I asked softly, afraid I may have overstepped.
She was quick to shake her head slightly, finally lifting her gaze to meet mine with glossy ones. "No."
I nodded, trying very hard not to smile, cleared my throat and grabbed her hand. "Then I'm not leaving. I'll be right here until you get better and I can take you home."
A ragged breath escaped her lips as she nodded in response. We both looked back to the TV and I noticed she didn't let go of my hand, her fingers warm to the touch and giving me goosebumps at the contact. But I wouldn't have had it any other way.
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who-is-page · 3 years
Note
We sort of started this discussion at Chimeras' Othercon panel, but I wanted to keep it going so I figured I would send an ask. What do you think it would mean for our community to drop the focus on voluntary and involuntary identities? I agree that we fundamentally should, but a bunch of things immediately jump to mind.
Our community has spent years leaning heavily into the lines between voluntary and involuntary identities and taken special care to make massive distinctions between them, leaving little to no room for grey area. It's no bit surprise that alterhuman spaces have had actual, legitimate, longstanding issues of grilling and gatekeeping. Nonhumans with nuanced and complicated identities are forced to shove themselves into a box to fit into the community, and the ideas we have about certain identities needing to be involuntary are absolutely baked into many aspects of our community and its history.
At the same time, we have used this unjustified gatekeeping in part to protect the community from genuine threats and appropriation of our terminology. The way we have limited our concepts of who is allowed to identify in what ways is generally wrong and has no doubt harmed a subset of kin, but at the same time is understandable in the sense that it has a cause. Yes, this was an issue even before KFF, but KFF certainly don't make it easy to create space for genuine voluntary kin and other voluntary alterhumans.
How do we create the space for nuance and fluidity and complexity in these terms and identities after we have spent so long defensively creating rigid boundaries and restrictions regarding the ways people are allowed to identify? How do we address community gatekeeping while also protecting our community from the people who use our identities and terminology in bad faith?
I have a lot of ideas, but this is obviously a very complex topic that we can't just solve in a day. I was just curious to hear your thoughts, if you had any. Hopefully once our personal website is up one of our first essays will be about this issue. (Also, how is Page? /hj)
So I know we’ve been sitting on this ask for... -checks watch- ...almost two weeks now, but it’s genuinely because I just wasn’t sure how to answer it for a good long while, and I didn’t just want to throw out some haphazard, half-hearted answer to such important questions. So here’s our thoughts on the debacle.
Voluntary and involuntary is a focus I doubt we’ll ever see any of the alterhuman communities permanently drop, for several reasons.
The first and foremost being that, by the definition of the term “alterhuman,” defined here as “a subjective identity which is beyond the scope of what is traditionally considered ‘being human’,” both experiences at their most extremes technically fall underneath the label, rendering the distinction (to some) vitally important to helping understand and define their identity/identity labels. The difference between KFF as an alterhuman identity and forms of otherkinity as an alterhuman identity, for instance, as you mention.
And then there’s the societal factors to consider. People like nice, neat little boxes: people like to be able to compartmentalize their communities, with no overlap, with no spillage, with no complications or grey areas or nuance. It’s a fact of life that people often instinctively want to water down labels and identities into more easily digestible formations, though there are arguments around why people precisely do it. And, as you point out, that often means alterhumans and nonhumans with more complex or nuanced identities typically get shoved into one box or another that they may not perfectly fit into.
When we zero in on specifically the otherkin community, this becomes even more complicated given the community’s rife history: abusive p-shifter groups, the appropriation of language by roleplayers and fiction writers, zoophiles attempting to forcibly associate otherkinity with pro-bestiality movements, and the blatant general misinformation spread by laymen and academics alike, just to name a few relevant problems the community has faced and continues to face. The community is stubborn to a fault, largely because it’s had to be in order to survive. It holds to its preconceived notions and rigid boundaries like a dog with toy aggression to their favorite plush stegosaurus. Fittingly so, really.
So how do we take that stubbornness and change it to be more inclusive to our own? How could we, while still surviving all that onslaught and more? That’s the big question.
In regards to the larger alterhuman community, we’re blessed in the fact that it’s still such a young concept: it hasn’t quite yet had to face the “pathological anger” Religious Studies professor Joseph Laycock has described otherkin as bearing the brunt of. It’s still a community figuring itself out, with much of the anger you find related to it aimed at specific subsets of community within it, rather than at alterhumanity as a whole. And I think the fact that the alterhuman community is still metaphorically air-drying on a table means we have the opportunity to prevent anti-nuance and anti-complexity attitudes from taking hold in it. How we do that is another battle in itself-- I feel like the encouragement of inclusive dialogue, of open discussion intermingled with considerate or civil attitudes, within alterhuman-marketed spaces is a good starting point. I also think that the encouragement and legitimization of “alterhuman” as its own standalone term would be a positive force, where it functions as a broad, diverse identity label in addition to being an overarching, joining umbrella label. A label where someone doesn’t have to give details away of their identity if they don’t feel comfortable doing so, or shove themself into a box they may or may not actually feel they fit into. Something functionally similar to how many people use “queer,” if you will.
But that still leaves aside the issue of identity and terminological misuse, I am aware. And that is...an abstract thing to ward against, at absolute best. I think that the defining of our own spaces not only through our words but also through our actions would perhaps be the best thing we could do, realistically. The cultivation of websites, of group projects--books, zines, comics, pictures, forums, anything!--, of community-led conventions and meet-ups and howls and gatherings. Things which foster and build a community identity of sorts is the best defense against those who would try and distort that which makes us, us.
Zooming back in on the otherkin community, these answers change slightly, because--going back to the clay metaphor--the otherkin community has already metaphorically been glazed and baked (in the fires of hell). That history is cemented, the ways people have wronged it and continue to try and wrong it is cemented, the assumptions and attitudes are cemented.
With the otherkin community, I think that the burden of changing minds and pervasive attitudes falls a bit more onto the shoulders of “community leadership,” because of how the community functions and values both community experience and articulation. There’s a reason we don’t have a term comparable to “greymuzzle” in any of the other alterhuman communities, after all-- it’s a well-known and often aggravating quirk of the otherkin community, to hold certain individuals in such high esteem and put them on a pedestal because of their longevity and the things they’ve done and said. I hate to say that they have to set an example, but in the otherkin community that really is one of the best ways to advocate for change, or to push against those gatekeeping and grilling attitudes--by those who are largely well-respected putting forward ideas that have previously been mocked or disavowed, pushing debates on their legitimacy into community consciousness until it eventually trickles into community normalcy and foundation.
(This is, as you can imagine, a double-edged sword depending on how it’s used. But that’s a discussion for another day.)
That’s not to say that the ideas of creation and creativity with the goal of cultivating an inclusive community identity, like I suggested for the alterhuman community, is inapplicable to the otherkin community: but the otherkin community already has a long-term community identity, so it’d moreso be creation and creativity for the sake of formative inclusion. “History is always written by the winners” is a very, very literal phrase in its application to the otherkin community. Our community memory, for lack of a better way to put it, sucks from individual-to-individual. The future of the otherkin community, its eventual-history, is determined by its historians and creators of today: day-to-day arguments and discussions, unless deemed historically relevant by one archivist or another, disappear to the sands of time, and much more long-term recordings such as essays, websites, comics, etc., often go far beyond just its creators hands and get passed around and down for years, potentially. If you want a more nuanced and inclusive community, you have to dig up the clay for it, shovel by shovel, and bake it yourself, brick by brick, and eventually, with luck, or enough backing prestige, or just because those bricks are so astoundingly solid people can’t resist taking some to build their own foundations to nonhumanity, things will change. It will take time above all else, but once it’s there it will be impossible to remove, because people will just assume those bricks have always been there given enough years.
But those are just some of my thoughts and opinions on it. It’s an issue with so many layers of complexity to it, that there’s really no perfect answer out there that I can offer, and I know even what I’ve shared here has its flaws and drawbacks. I’m sure plenty of my followers also have additional thoughts on the subject, and I’d love to hear from other people what they think in the replies and reblogs.
(Also, Page is a very tired boi.)
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tinyboxxtink · 3 years
Text
"Weird Secret Friends" *Chapter 9*
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Chapter 8
Chapter 10
Aw SNAP, an early chapter?! Yes children, I woke up and I just wanted to write. This story really does mean a lot to me, and I have been neglecting it for the last few days. So I decided to give you one today, and one tonight. I just have so much to say, and I wanna get it out there as fast as I think of it! I know y'all want that too.
So I don't know if these actually need warnings, but there is serious discussion about alcohol and addiction. If you're sensitive to that, read with caution. I'm really sensitive to it and I wrote it, but it's more therapeutic to me. I don't know how others feel about it.
Also-- I did my best to fix the continuity issue in the last chapter about the Sonny crying at Y/N's mom's funeral, AND I think I did a good job at fixing the continuity with the fact that I literally started this story with her drinking an appletini. Like a moron.
And if you think my explanation is 'unbelievable', I actually do the same thing so I know it's a thing! Don't @ me.
Also Also-- This chapter is all Y/N and Sonny, some cousin bonding time. I hope y'all appreciate it.
Tag List
@madamsnape921
@lolliepopsicle
@chasingeverybreakingwave
@milkshqke
@wanniiieeee
@word-scribbless
@gibbs274
@sassyada
@aprildecker-blog
@bookishfanfic
@stars-in-the-skies-world
@stars-trash-18
@omgsuperstarg
@objection-argumentative
@thatesqcrush
@shittanyy
@mrsrafaelbarba
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You rode to the train station in silence, but when you got out of the Uber to walk in by yourself, Sonny quickly trailed behind you.
“I’m a big girl Sonny, I don’t need you to hold my hand,” You rolled your eyes.
“I-I know, but it’s an hour until your train leaves, and--” He nervously explained.
“Afraid I’ll go to the bar and just derail my life in twenty minutes?” You crossed your arms.
“...No…” He softly looked at the ground.
“Well, you're right. I'm just gonna throw it all away right now,”
“Y/N don’t do that--”
“I’m not kidding, Sonny!” You looked at him seriously.
“...What?” He was stunned at your admission.
You looked around the train station, people were bustling about running to their trains and finding their people, it was a madhouse. You needed to talk this out seriously; so you pulled him to a waiting area and sat down with him.
“Well as you so nicely pointed out, I am basically on the verge of breaking my sobriety every fucking day. And now I know why you wanted me to avoid Rafael, but I didn’t listen and as much as you didn’t want it to, it already broke me. Last night I broke, and now that-- now that he’s gone, or run away, or whatever-- All I can think about is making this pain go away!” The thoughts that had been running through your head since you left Rafael’s apartment just came spilling out of your mouth.
“Sunshine…” He sighed.
“And you’re right, I don’t have anyone else. I don’t have anyone else to lean on, except for you. And I can’t keep doing that, you’ve done it long enough,” You started to feel tears catch in your throat.
“Wha--but I don’t mind, I--” He protested.
“Really? Because the way you were telling Rafael, it sounded like you were sick of it,” You tried to keep your voice steady.
“I’m not--” He ran his fingers through his hair. “I’m not sick of it. It’s just--”
“A lot,” You finished for him.
“Right,” He looked at you sadly. “But-- I don’t understand, then what do you wanna--”
“I need to go away,” You interjected with a very somber look.
“What?” He half laughed. “Go away? What does that even--”
“I need to go...away,” You repeated, not wanting to say the words out loud.
“Like...a facility?” He asked; you nodded. “Y/N I didn’t mean you had to--”
“I know you didn’t mean that Sonny, but I don’t see any other way,” Tears filled your eyes.
“I don’t-- I don’t wanna do this again! I don’t want you to have to take days, weeks off work watching me, moving to Jersey, checking my room and my apartment, you’re too old for that shit now!” You looked up to the sky, willing the tears to stay in your pupils.
“I mean, Y/N come on I’m almost 31, I’m not ancient--”
“But you’re a grown up, with a grown up job and a career, and a life. And I can’t just-- make you put your life on pause because I’m a fuck up,” You barely whispered.
“You’re not a--”
“I am,” You shook your head. “I am, and I accept it. I can’t have-- normal, things. Like friendships or relationships. This absolutely proves it,”
“No, it doesn’t,” Sonny took your hand. “Look I told Barba and now I’m telling you: This...this might be on me,”
“No it’s not,” You took his hand this time. “Don’t do that,”
“No, it really might be,” He insisted. “You’ve...you’ve never just opened up to someone like you did with Barba. Not once. Not with anyone but me,”
“Yeah well clearly that was some kind of fluke,” You rolled your eyes with a tear filled laugh.
“Was it?” Sonny asked you sincerely. “When’s the last time you approached a guy or girl for that matter, sober?”
“I mean, I was sipping an appletini…” You looked at the ground in guilt.
“Y/N…” Sonny rubbed his temples.
“What?” You shrugged. “It’s not like I’m the Hulk, Sonny. I don’t take a sip of alcohol and ‘Hulk Out’. I like to at least attempt to feel like a grown up, so I order ONE drink and nurse it for hours. You know this. It’s just, when I get upset…”
“You lose it,” He finished for you.
“...Yeah,” You looked back at the ground.
“So why don’t you just come stay with me for a few days, until this whole ‘Barba’ thing passes, and you can be...normal, again?” He put a hand on your knee. “You don’t need to…’go away’, like a mental patient,”
“...Because I don’t know if it will pass, Sonny,” You admitted. “I’m not kidding when I say this broke me. It...it broke me. And he wasn’t even my boyfriend! We fucked one time and all of a sudden I was going through his stuff like a crazy girlfriend,”
“...Didn’t need to know that, but alright,” Sonny shuddered at the thought of you in the throes of passion with Rafael.
“Whatever,” You sighed. “The point is, I-- I lost it, with him. That’s never happened, not once. I’ve never…’cared’ about someone like that. I just bang them then leave,”
“Wasted” Sonny added.
“....Well yeah, obviously,” You laughed sadly.
“Which brings me back to my original point,” He replied. “You may have had some liquor in your system, but were you drunk when you talked to Barba?”
“...No,” You shook your head.
“Were you tipsy?”
“....No,"
“Did you get drunk while waiting on me and talking with him and then decide to go back to his place to...do stuff?”
“No!” You hit him softly.
“And last night,” He continued. “Last night when I walked away and left the two of you. Did you run back inside and drink yourself into a stupor because you hurt me?”
“No!!” You shook your head. “No, I-- I might have wanted to, but then Rafael took me inside and he-- well, first of all his friends humiliated me--”
“They what?” Sonny’s fists began to clench.
“Calm down, Son,” You took his hand. “Rafael defended me, he even punched a guy for insulting me!”
“He WHAT?” Sonny gasped. Rafael would never do something like that, not for anyone. He was always so cool, calm and collected, always the epitome of decorum. If he had lost it on someone in public, that really did mean something.
“...So he defended you, then took you home?”
“Well, I---” You looked down in shame. “I asked him to,”
“Ah,” Sonny nodded. “I see,”
“But only because you said you didn’t wanna see me! I...I didn’t think I had anywhere else to go,” You explained.
“But he let you,” He added.
“He wanted me to,” You shrugged. “But Sonny I swear, nothing was supposed to happen. I just wanted to crash on his couch until I could talk to you. But...I don’t know, we-- he washed my clothes, and then we were watching BoJack, and then we were laughing and he was tickling me, and it just-- happened,”
“Organically,” He clarified.
“...Not the way I’d word it but yeah,”
“And you didn’t drink anything?” He raised an eyebrow.
“No!” You cried. “No, and I didn’t want to hurt--”
“Sunshine I promise you, this isn’t about my feelings at all right now,” He assured you. “I’m just pointing out that you have never just...accidentally slept with a guy,”
“Meaning…?” You quirked an eyebrow curiously.
“Meaning your MO is get drunk, get laid, and leave. Correct?”
“...Well when you say it like that…” You shifted uncomfortably.
“I’m not trying to guilt you Sunshine I’m making a point. Now, am I right?”
“....Yes,”
“So you genuinely had feelings for Barba. Real, unaltered feelings,”
“....I guess so,”
“And I’m not blowing smoke up your ass when I say that Barba would never, ever punch a guy for anyone. Especially not someone he worked with, in front of a bunch of colleagues. I mean, his ‘circle’ is probably buzzing right now with talk about how ‘barbaric’ he was, for some girl he just met,” He explained.
“What are you saying, Son?” You studied his face curiously.
“I’m saying like I said before, that this might be my fault, Sunshine,” He sighed, once again running his hands through his hair.
“If I hadn’t been so...against you and Barba, I wouldn’t have spout off my mouth about his--- usual way of dating. Because it sounds like with you, he’s anything but his usual self,” He explained.
“...And then you wouldn’t have gotten upset about it and responded the way you do when you’re upset, and then you wouldn’t have ended up a mess last night, and you two would still be in your happy little bubble of bliss,”
“Sonny,” You sighed and put a hand on his shoulder. “I appreciate the sentiment, but I think we both know that this...’beast’ inside of me, is always gonna be there,”
“Well…” He murmured.
“You said it yourself! I’m still an addict, I’m still battling it everyday, even though I’ve gotten so much better at it. Even though most days I am perfectly fine; I’m not normal. Normal people don’t end up at the bottom of a bottle of vodka whenever they have a bad day, or stress out,” You cringed at the memory of that constantly happening back in the day.
“Yeah I know…”
“And it’s not fair for me to put that on someone. Especially someone I barely know! Especially someone who is not used to, or even ready for any kind of normal commitment! I mean, honestly I’m glad it happened now, because if we had gotten any deeper and the inevitable happened, the blow out would have been much more...messy,” You looked away in shame, just imagining the chaos your drunken alter ego could cause.
“...How so?”
“Sonny, if I lost it like I did last night after spending one night with Rafael, can you imagine the kind of havoc I’d wreck if we had been dating for a while? If we were married?” You half laughed sadly at the thought. “Cops would be called, I’m sure,”
“Sunshine….” He spoke softly, hating to hear you degrade yourself so much. He'd heard it so much in the past, he knew if you were going into the dark place, the damage was bad.
“Somehow or other, the monster would have shown herself to him. And clearly, whenever it was gonna happen-- he wasn’t going to respond well,” You shook your head with the same sad smile.
“But maybe if you had gotten closer, maybe he would have changed. Maybe he wants to change-- he’s just...freaked out right now,” Sonny pointed out.
“Don’t,” You shook your head while looking at the ground. “Don’t do that,”
“Do what?” He asked you quizzically.
“Give me false hope,” You looked up at him with tears once again welling up in your eyes. “You know that’s the most dangerous thing for someone like me,”
“But that’s just it Sunshine,” He put both hands on either side of your face. “I really don’t think it’s false hope,”
“Yeah well,” You scoffed with a sarcastic laugh. “I won’t hold my breath. And the bottom line is-- if that ever happens, then it will. But I’m here now, and right now all I want is to drink until I forget this weekend ever happened,” You wiped tears from your face. “So I need you to--”
“I’m not sending you away,” He said sternly.
“Sonny!” You stomped your foot. “I’m not kidding! You can’t--”
“Look Y/N,” He started. “You have done so well these past few years, better than I’ve ever seen you. I am so proud of you. You’re in school, you’re thinking about the future, you have dreams. And if you just...abandon that for even a month or two, you’ll have to drop your classes and start over,”
“Yeah but--”
“I know you think that going to rehab is the thing you’re ‘supposed’ to do when shit like this happens, but honestly I think it will only send you three steps back, not forward,” He looked at you with very genuine eyes.
“...Y’know the old ‘monster’ wouldn’t have even told me any of this,” He pointed out. “She would’ve gotten on that train and headed to the liquor store at the Jersey train station,”
“...That is true,” You nodded with a soft smile.
“I think you’re more in control than you think, Sunshine,” He put a thumb on your chin. “...But, maybe to make us both feel better, I’ll put a limit on your card for a bit,”
“...Yeah, probably for the best,” You gave him a small smile. Just then you both heard the speaker announcing your train was boarding.
“Well, I guess I better go,” You stood up with your duffel and gave him a long, hard hug. You really did love him more than anyone in this world, and knowing he wasn’t mad at you and still loved you meant everything to you.
“Alright Sunshine, you call me when you get back to the apartment, yeah?”
“Yeah,” You nodded; he gave you another hug, scared to let you go.
He was being supportive and brave on the outside for you, because he really did want you to keep going on the path you were on. But something deep down inside of him was constantly worried about the monster inside you. He wanted to protect you 24/7, but you were right-- he had a life and a career in the city, he had to trust you to be on your own.
“I love you, Y/N. You know that, right?”
“Yeah,” You nodded with a bigger smile. “I love you too, Sonny,”
You gave him one last kiss on the cheek before heading to your platform, leaving Sonny alone in the station. He waited until he couldn’t see your figure headed towards the distance before pulling out his phone and dialing a number.
“Barba,” He said seriously. “We need to talk,”
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okay maybe this is just me being nd and confused but it seems like a bunch of people are disagreeing over the definition of a subjective word which makes this entire conversation about whether or not the videos are 'cute' and what that means kind of pointless.
Like as someone whose familiar with animal behavior those videos aren't aesthetically cute to me because I see a stressed animal, or a dangerous interaction, and that's not pleasing at all. I understand if that's different for others but I can't grasp why one persons morals/ethics having or not having an effect on their definition should be considered more valid then others especially for something as subjective as 'cuteness'.
Aesthetic preferences can be completely separate from moral and ethics yeah and there isn't anything wrong with them being separate or joined, but the idea that no one ever has their aesthetic preferences effected by either seeems, bizzare to me? Especially when both can have a large effect on how you percive the world and your experiences within it.
the issue is that, as I said in my reblogs, there really is a growing (but also historic, it's not at all exclusively recent) trend of conflating what is aesthetic/pleasing with what is moral. you'll often see "consensual incest is disgusting" as someone's entire argument for why they think it's immoral, same with antis and fictional shit with dark themes (or loli or whatever). gross is not synonymous with immoral, and nor is cute synonymous with moral. something may stop being cute for you because it's immoral, but it simply isn't correct to conflate the two. what I took from that post was exactly that, and that as a result op doesn't like that the names of all the blogs that assess harm, risk, and morality of animal behaviour (which I'm also familiar to some degree with and have the same reaction of not finding certain things cute) will usually have some kind of reference to cuteness. this actually is a huge problem when it comes to a situation like pugs. the narrative went from all the info about their health issues to a militant "pugs aren't cute", that even extended to a lot of terrible posts I've seen where comments all just shit on the pug - calling it an ugly, horrific animal that shouldn't exist; not that the breed should be phased out, that a particular animal shouldn't be alive, a specific individual. there's also hounding owners with similar vile things when they upload pictures, just talking about real living individuals so overtly cruelly. to me, that sort of behaviour is just an excuse to act shitty while claiming it's righteous. this totally has the risk of affecting the adoption of living breathing pugs who need homes, and it really often floods the comments of people who are providing said homes to adopted animals, like how dare they get (and apparently thus will be making others want to get) this repulsive little affront to god. that's not okay. animal welfare doesn't start and end with whether or not you are permitted to find something cute, and the conversation around morality at the moment has continued to be poisoned by conflation in regards to aesthetics. op criticised that, and it ended up with people calling them far-right, a pedo, a zoophile, immoral, disgusting, and far more gross shit that I eventually stopped just compulsively checking out of frustration. that was my issue with those responses - not that I've got a problem with them not finding a vid where a bear eats from a hand cute, but how I saw them responding so horrifically to a valid criticism of the conversations they're having. I don't mind if cuteness is detracted in whether something is immoral, I mind if a morality can be swayed by cuteness and people conflate it so often that they see no issue with bullying a living pug's adoptive owner online because it's an ugly little creature by virtue of its breed not being healthy. I jumped in to criticise the shit people were slinging at op; the names having references to cuteness is a discussion with an abundance of valid points on both sides, but I don't think it's a big deal by comparison to all the issues I've mentioned here when morality starts to be conflated with aesthetics, and the stance of insulting things based on aesthetics because you disagree morally with a practice around them, especially sick animals that will need loving homes with people who do love it and see it as cute and deserving. you can say that pugs aren't cute because they're sick but ultimately that's not actually advocacy to take action to breed that out, that's just being vile on some random instagram of someone's pet.
edit: I should probably tag @schizotypalpigeon
edit #2: or as @guided-to-madness said much more succinctly in this thread of it: "“Funny”, “cute” are the instinctive emotional reactions some of us have. Not our moral evaluation of the situation. [...] You can, however, say “this is bad, so you need to stop sharing it and giving the op positive feedback”. [...] You need to aim at altering people’s actions, not feelings."
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casually-shipped · 3 years
Text
Queer representation, biphobia, sexism, and racism. Loki Finale... a few thoughts!!! spoilers.
Marvel has walked a thin line, and crossed it many times. After all the interviews, after all that was said about race, gender, identity, sexuality, and relationships. I find myself back where we always start with these things, a step forward, and 10 steps back. Not only did Marvel interviews state that Sylvie was a love interest, but there were interviews saying she wasn't. Here's the thing about Sylvie, she was and is what corporate owned entertainment always does to women and queer characters. Her job was to make Loki being genderfluid and bi/pan more palatable for homophobes,' and ad cents monetization!
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This is the price of queer representation by corporate America , every time. Take a villain turned anti hero, whom you already killed off, (bury your gays trope) and make that person queer in name only, but only exists in series format, not the main MCU theatrical universe. A character in this carnation, we may NEVER see in said universe, in that way again, any time soon.
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Not only are they doing this, but also have your first two openly queer/genderfluid characters in a historic moment for the MCU, become a joke selfcest crack ship to hide the gay!!!! Some will try to turn this into (now you're being biphobic, why do bisexuals always have to be with someone of the same sex for them to be valid?) argument, which completely misses the point, and also missing the fact that bisexuality not happening in practice and only implied is in itself kind of biphobic? We live in an age where queer representation exists in name only, in the background, throw away characters, and are not given big important leading roles. Queer ppl want to see themselves. Bisexuality has always been used to hide the gay because it's more accepted as representation and checking the diversity boxes, especially when you don't have to really see it in practice, or if it is, it's way for ppl to go,( they aren't that gay and we're more comfortable with heteronormativity at queer ppl's expense of garnering true representation.)
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It's like what happened in the show Lucifer where Lucifer wakes up in bed with a woman and a man, where his sexuality is implied, or him hitting on men as a joke, in passing, or in the background. The same trope used is also with women being the representation of queerty because women are already sexualized and seen as the inferior sex, so why not let the woman be queer because no one is going to blink at that vis-a-vis how Britney and Madonna kissing was treated vs how Adam Lambert and Lil Nas X were treated with their kisses. Get it? There's a double standard.
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Another issue with race, the fact Marvel decided that a black man enslaving a bunch of ppl for his own ends was a good idea is a moron! Hello? Marvel struggles with stories involving intersectional true representation like most corporate entertainment, one of the things that cause Falcon and Winter soldier to fall flat. For the Black Panther to miss the point when it comes to race and missed opportunities.
Female character lead Marvel films not understanding how to make feminism included in the narrative without having to virtue signal or rely heavily on white feminism. Wandavision almost being the exception. Originally in Loki, if it weren't for the fact the the showrunner is a woman, Sylvie would not be what she is, and how she is represented in Loki. Originally it was very clear how her original incarnation was to uplift and drive Loki's story like most female characters do. None the less they still ended up doing exactly that albeit to a lesser extant. I always hear white feminists go on about how women should be allowed to be written and exist flawed like any man. I agree, but in an age where women are disrespected and are still not truly allowed to be equal to men, and have control over their own body's, the last thing women need is to continue to be vilified. (Side note, in the quest to break the glass ceiling as it were, I would think the last thing you want to emulate is the worst thing of men? I guess you aren't truly equal if you can't be as bad?) Just not the thing I want for us!
The woman ends the world, the woman kills, be angry at the woman for hurting Loki and making him cry. Make Loki the hero and her the villain. Now these are great moments, I'm happy to see them, but under the circumstances, this character ark is troubling and bitter sweet.
We can't look to corporate Hollywood for our stories told correctly or intersectionaly. The united States political landscape is the same mindset, so many of these issues and concerns will be lost on many people in a world where they are already buying into the tokenization of a ppl, and doesn't help that members of that community are complicit with uplifting this. What we have in entertainment, and media, can also be found in politics. None of this surprises me, and what I got from Loki is kind of what I expected. There really weren't too many surprises positive or otherwise with this show. Pretty on par and on brand for the world we live in and the assholes we share it with. In the end, in terms of enjoyment, I prefer Wandavision. Far more epic, and entertaining. Which also was a lot more palatable, and didn't leave me as annoyed and angry.
I still found Loki entertaining, and I'm very sure that wasn't the ending they wanted, and only ended up with it because of the pandemic. So there's a season 2, which also means, seeing Tom Hiddleston in the MCU theatrical world is more unlikely going to happen any time soon. The finale however was so underwhelming. It half put me to sleep. It was all this build up, and then thuds to the ground with a clunk instead of a crescendo!
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