#fucking stupid ass body regulation issues

[possuminnit]

my favorite part about drinking cold things is how quick i start shivering from it

[ditttiii]

*Sighs*

HII I'M 🐻 ENTERING YOUR ASKS ONCE AGAIN TO SAY I FREAKING LOVE YOU SO DAYUM MUCH!!!!

Anyways

Hii

My name is 🐻. I'm 16 years old. A humanities student studying in 3rd year of highschool. My hobbies are singing, dancing, reading, writing (atm i have a block😭), sleeping, doing nothing and my most favourite- randomly complementing people. I don't particularly hate anything for i feel hate is a very strong emotion which stems out of lack of gratitude, jealousy and at times envy. Although I do have a strong dislike towards homophobics, fatphobics, racist, sexiest and people who treat elders nd kids like thrash. I also don't like bottle guard but i love bitter guard. Currently I'm suffering from recurring uti and am showing symptoms of IBS. I also have issues with my menstrual cycles but ik I'll get by. All this started when I was chubby but with perfect bmi but teased by everyone for being "fat". I went on a very unhealthy diet and also my mental health wasn't stable that time. I developed eating disorder. Btw this happened during 2020. During dec that year I drank less water and binged often. Developed uti but didn't tell my parents until July this year. Now am suffering terribly. Hate myself for this...

I did lose weight but not how people usually do. I fell sick(2021). For 3 days I had high fever, tonsil stone, period, diarrhoea and willingness to die. My body couldn't even take water. I used to puke everything and was still constantly having my stomach run. In those 3 days i lost approx 6 to 7 kgs of weight. My stupid 15 year old ass still wanted to be slim fit so i did what i SHOULDN'T have done. Regulated my diet which was again not something my body begged me to do.

I suffered from depression from the age of 11 when I was first passively bullied. I wanted to die when I was 12. Just survived without any reason at 13. Thought to heal but went nuts at 14. That was the time i was most creative though. Actually wished to die and gave myself an ultimatum that if I didn't heal by Jan or atleast got better, I'll swallow chlorine. And am now sitting with some anxiety but WAYYYYY better than before. It's true that u need to be patient with your self in order to actually grow and heal.

I don't regret anything but am just a Lil concerned about my fucked up health. I know I'll be alright though. I just hope I get out of my writing and reading slump. I now see the wonders of the world and am happy with where i am. I don't truly love myself but I don't hate myself as much as i used to.

Now i don't know what I'll do in the future. I know one thing that I've kept neuropsychology as my backup but how funny it is that I'm clueless about what it is for.

I mean it got serious so....

Ahem Ahem

MARRY ME!!!!

Im happy you got out of a relationship that didn't work for you instead of sabotaging yourself with false hope of having wonders of the world with the person who your weren't meant to be with. And ofc we'll both love jaykay afterall he has been my greatest muse as well.

Though i can't write even an ounce as brilliant an you but ig I'm improving.

Love you loads and have a great day ahead🫂🫂🫂🫂

I look forward to reading your replies because they are so cute and bubbly and vivacious and effervescent. You're just.... EPITOME OF EVERY TAYLOR'S LOVE SONG...... EPITOME OF MY FAVOURITE SUMMER WITH SUNSHINE BLAZING OVER ALL THE SHITTY THOUGHTS I HAVE ......

You're indeed enchanting. I don't know what you look like or perhaps if youre pretty to the eye. Butttt let me tell you. YOURE BEAUTIFUL. the vibe and aura you radiate isjust so pure and comforting. Would love to be real life besties with you....

Send you lots of love 💘💕

~🐻

oh you sweet sweettt soul i have the absolute strongest urge to hug you and just somehow cuddle the heck outta you until you know that you are not alone even though ik it may feel like it a lot. my gosh bee, you r such a strongass trooper heck ya! i have had both health struggles, mental and physical, for the last decade of my life so i really do understand a lot of where you are coming from. i ofc absolutely in no way can fully know how hard it has been for you, cant even come close to imagining it but my heart is with you through remembering it all :') idk if anyones told you this before but you are so so brave for keeping your head up and holding on. Sometimes its the hardest thing to do and it takes someone with a heart of literal fucking gold that bleeds goodness to be able to withstand and overcome those hardships so just. i am proud of you hun. really really proud.

also god i feel u on the health struggles. with recurring uti, i suffer from it too and often end up on antibiotics and even with those sometimes it takes like 2 weeks to fully recover. My suggestion would be just to look after ur hygiene and try to keep things dry while really buckling down with the hydration. the second you feel that burning or the weathers hot/humid and u are wearing tight jeans or you have been travelling, using more public restrooms -- just start gulping down water. trust me water and peeing more is actually the best cure for uti and also improves your natural immunity and i have learned that the hard way (i.e building resistance to antibiotics after multiple courses) with irregular menstrual cycles? i had terrible cycles all through out my highschool too. took meds for like a year i think and gave it a lot of time but it eventually sorted itself out so dont stress over it too much.

you my love are beautiful just the way you are. and if something ever changes do it for noone but yourself 💕 weight and body types and the stereotype of what is good and what isnt and whats okay and whats not it just. its freaking impossible. if your bmi is good, you feel healthy then you are absolutely a 10/10 and noone can change that despite whatever they say. if you feel good, the rest of the world is irrelevant.

Also letting your creativity ground you at your worst? i am so glad?? 😭 i get what that feels like because in a way the creative outlets are an escape and just a moment and bubble in time when you dont have to think about the things that worry and stress you out and can just instead be. be in the moment and be content and be calm and like amidst the shitstorm and all the noise sometimes its the only sound. and i m so hella glad that you held onto that creativity and let it be a support system for you. Its always tough being there for yourself and not having anyone else who really gets you and i havent found someone like that yet either so i rely on my creativity a lot to get me through the bad times and funnily enough it usually flourishes when i am at my worst. so lol if i am writing a lot and writing good i m prolly depressed 🤡

and lastly, this reply is a piece of all that my thoughts are and is only covering a portion of them but i am so honoured you trusted me enough to share it all. i do feel like i know you better know and its such a warm gushy realisation.

you my bear-chan are adorable and sweet beyond belief and i am always looking forward to hearing from you more and knowing what you have been upto.

sending back nothing but tons and buckets and seas full of my love 💕

-ditttiii xoxoxoxoxox

<33333333

[sinisterexaggerator]

Cad Bane Headcanons (Part 1?) VERY NSFW 18 +

**I tend to think he leans reptilian due to the fangs, and that he’s also carnivorous for the most part like a Komodo Dragon, but as someone pointed out he shares some traits that are associated with amphibians, such as the Duros larval stage.**

Cad Bane’s contact stunners can down a Wookie, but they can be easily recalibrated and adjusted so that the bolt of electricity that is issued can be as intense or as gentle as he likes, thus you better believe he can and will shock your nipples during sex.

Bane knows that Anakin is Darth Vader the moment he watches or observes him in combat. It blows his mind at first. He keeps it to himself. He’s not stupid.

His hands are HUGE. His thumb is as long as his OTHER fingers. One can easily be the width and length of the human penis. He could finger-fuck you and get you off just as well. There’s a reason he’s called the “Fastest Gun in all the Galaxy.” He is DEXTERITOUS. Not to mention, his knuckles are practically NOTCHES – think ribbed  x10.

He’s impressed by large tits and asses that are big enough to fill his hands. He especially loves humanoid women, Twi’leks, Zeltron’s, humans in general. They are so soft and warm, unlike him.

To add to that, he especially loves humanoid women because they ARE warm. If he’s cold, he WILL hug you whether you like it or not, and not necessarily because you want him to. Twi’leks are especially a favorite in this regard because their species’ internal temperature runs HOT (it’s canon).

His skin is COLD and leathery, somewhat, but scaleless, or if he does have scales, they are almost unnoticeable aka “microscales.” Somewhat rough against your skin, including those fingers of his. The tips tend to be abrasive, as lizards/amphibians are known to climb and hang onto walls, though Cad DOESN’T do that kind of thing.

Speaking of, he is cold-blooded, therefore he cannot regulate his own body temperature. He prefers to be not too hot, and not too cold, so shady environments are just right. AKA fuck Tatooine, but a job is a job. He goes where he has to and he has specialized gear to keep him comfortable.

He’s not beyond going down on someone, but he tends to be very cautious and deliberate, and only if you beg him to. He rather receive. Also, he can go for hours. He doesn’t need to come up for air. His cybernetic breathing apparatus is connected to his cheeks, so I imagine he absorbs oxygen that way. He can eat you out until the sun comes up.

Duros in Battlefront 2 also sound like Bane. This makes me think the modulation is common. His accent is perhaps one which comes from New Tayana especially. By Bad Batch it is gone. It could be he trains himself to lose it.

You’re the first woman he’s fucked with his LL-30’s. His skills with a blaster turn you on so much you want to ride them, and Bane obliges, but he removes the power cells first. He can’t stand the thought of accidently killing you. He only kills people deliberately, and never by mistake.

His olfactory organs are beneath his eyes as that is how the Duros are able to smell things since they do not have a traditional nose, however his sense of taste is also second to none and they are interconnected. His tongue may aid him in certain things, such as catching scent particles he detects with said olfactory organs, then using them to locate enemies or find a mate. He is VERY perceptive of when you are in heat and can taste AND smell your hormones from across the room.

Bane wears such a wide-brimmed hat because his species’ eyes are naturally sensitive to light. Even though he is a reptilian-humanoid and enjoys basking in the sun, he does NOT like direct sunlight. He enjoys the shade. This also makes sense because Duro was a temperate planet / cool and wet with lush forests. After all, there are reptiles who enjoy temperate climates.

Bane would be hard pressed to admit it, or even show it, but with a s/o he may very well get jealous of them flirting or otherwise being flirted with. He may not address it in public unless necessary, (maybe someone is being too aggressive towards you) but behind closed doors you are getting a talking to.

He doesn’t trust easily. In his line of work, that is practically a death sentence. To earn his trust you have to prove yourself, and that trust can easily be broken. It may take years, and you can just as soon as wind up right back at square one.

Cad doesn’t need to ask for sex. It just happens. Sometimes women just THROW themselves at him; he thinks it’s fun to make you jealous and watch you squirm, though he can secretly feel the same way if the tables are turned. He will never beg or try to persuade you. It gives him a sense of power to know that he is in control of your orgasms. He can deny at will, or humor you, his choice, and there is nothing you can do about it.

Back talk or dress like a slut around other men, and he will punish you and show others just who you belong to. He would never hit a woman though, unless it were necessary for a job, such as with Shand. He’s not a total monster. He’s not above roughhousing children either, as is apparent in his forceful capture of Omega.

However, he hates to disappoint you. He may tend to try and be a little less … cruel if you’re around. The sorrowful looks you give him can be very persuasive, though it angers him to no end you have that effect on him.

He HATES the idea ANYONE would ever think he’s going soft. He makes it a point to deny you public displays of affection, even if you beg him. The closest thing you’ll get is a rough fucking in the alley behind a cantina, or a ride on his giant xeno dick during an offer for a job.  – He doesn’t give a shit who watches. Who’s going to stop him? He’s Cad Bane.

He is a patient teacher if you decide you want to learn the ropes of his profession. He taught and mentored Boba, after all, and he was one hell of a brat.

Speaking of, if you’re a brat, he will definitely put you in your place; possibly spank you, and it’s not a laughing matter. This will happen with seriousness on his part. No joking around, even if you like it.

Cad Bane IS serious. He rarely jokes, and when he does, he has a very dry sense of humor. He’s straight to the point. He offends easily. Jokes are usually at yours or others expense.

The headshot from Boba and the headplate he wears gives him horrible headaches. On occasion they may get so bad the only thing he can do is retreat to a dark place to rest. He is very vulnerable during this time, but also very grumpy.

Even though Bane is constantly making credits, he’s frugal. He loves money, but he is careful with it. He has a rather large savings he doesn’t tell anyone about.

His species is susceptible to arthritis due to the many joints in their fingers; he doesn’t know it yet, but his love language is a gentle massage.

Cad Bane drinks any and all alcohol, but he rarely, if AT ALL gets drunk … he needs his reflexes. He can never let his guard down, too many people wish to do him in and take his place as top-ranking Bounty Hunter in the galaxy. Although, that doesn’t mean he WON’t get drunk. In fact, he may get a little wild if he goes too far. He may be embarrassing, or violent when upset. I can see him picking fights.

He is challenged quite a bit, believe it or not. Other Hunters or just “people” in general ask for a duel, and he always nips it in the bud in just one shot.

He WILL turn off the artificial gravity and fuck you in deep space.

He’s not above using his lasso to pull you in if you’re acting spoiled or badly behaved. He will use his arsenal against you to his benefit.

If you’re especially upset, and he can’t figure out a way to help you otherwise, he may employ the use of his hypnosis orb to make suggestions to calm your mind, though he rather not do so. He just hates it when you cry. It’s used as a last resort, for instance, in life-or-death situations where losing your cool is not an option.

Bane is usually very calm and collected, though when things do not go his way, he can easily switch gears and become frustrated to the point of anger. He hates failure. He is a perfectionist, though he is always rational and can still perform better under pressure than some people.

Cad is secretly a bit of a romantic, but you’re going to have to pay your own weight in spice to see it. Despite that, he will NEVER admit he loves you. It’s like pulling teeth – fangs – and he rather lose an eye than to admit his feelings. He’s more of an “actions speak louder than words” kind of person.

He won’t admit it to himself either, that would make him feel vulnerable, and he HATES that feeling. He can, in some ways, very much be a typical “macho man” until you get him behind closed doors.

Speaking of Spice, he doesn’t do the shit, thinks people are stupid who do. It dulls his senses. He doesn’t like drug addicts, and he will most certainly berate you for doing it if he ever catches you. It’s a waste of money, though there is money to be made from the Syndicate, of course.

Besides chiding you when he’s upset or angry, he is also a vicious tease. Sexually, and verbally. He especially loves blending the two. “You tryin’ to take me for’a ride? I’m not’a Blurrg, and dis ain’t no rodeo, lil lady.”

Pet names or nick-names might include: Girl, little lady, of course, Izrin (beautiful), Sweetblossom ( a type of flower ), Starburst ( another flower ), Starry-eyes, Ena ( Queen in Durese), Fullua (Beloved), Quioa (Evening star), Nuth ( Breath-taking), my lil’ fire-breather (after the droid in clone wars that was known for its powerful jaws ) .

---- 

I am on page four of a word doc and will stop here for the evening, but I may very well write a part 2 at some point!! 

Update:

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

If you like these, check out my fic where I put them to good use!

Stars Above | Cad Bane

[xpeachesncream]

first position | one shot

summary: your bestfriend’s ex ain’t shit, especially if he’s never made her orgasm. (based on this ask)

pairing: jungkook x reader x reader’s bestfriend

genre: (18+) college au | smut

words: 2.3k

warnings: cussing, mature language/implied sexual content, alcohol consumption, marijuana use, threesome, protected sex, multiple orgasms, breast play, oral (f. receiving), cum eating, ass smacking, pussy smacking, doggy style, hair pulling, slightly rough sex

note: drew some inspiration from lani’s “first position” song (linked above); please know that this is an entirely new level of smut for me so i apologize if shit sounds kind of off. super unfamiliar with threesome scenes, but i did my best to read up on actual accounts to see what people describe it to be like ahaha ALSO - wips are updated, feel free to see what my messy brain is working up nowadays lol enjoy ya’ll 🤓 this goes out to you, anon! i tried! lol

"Baby, open up!" Jungkook says, knocking on your door. You stumble a bit, laughing with your bestfriend. You both had been drinking wine all night and shared a blunt together before calling your boyfriend, whining for some food.

"Gookieeee." You giggle as you open the door and throw your arms around his neck. He pulls back to kiss you on the lips before helping himself inside and tossing off his shoes.

"Jungkook! The savior!" Your bestfriend says as he sets the food down onto the kitchen counter.

"Yeah, yeah. Thank me later. I'd rather grab the food then let you two drunkies head out like this."

"We aren't drunk, silly."

"Okay." He chuckles as he plops onto the couch, manspreading as he flips the channel on your tv to the Warriors vs. Pacers basketball game. "That's more I like it."

"Excuse me." You say as you shove fries into your mouth, your bestfriend devouring her burger next to you in the kitchen. "You're getting comfortable."

"Mhm, I sure am."

"Babe, it's a girl's night."

"Mm no, it's no longer a girl's night after my babygirl asks me to leave the comfort of my bed just to bring her food."

"Sorry to interrupt your jacking off session."

"Yeah, exactly." He says. "What'd you guys drink tonight?"

"Wine, wine and more wine. Smoked a blunt too." He laughs.

"Time of your lives, ey?"

"Lana just got dumped by that ungrateful dumbass, of course I gotta treat her."

"Hey, for what it's worth Lana - Namjoon didn't deserve you." He looks at your bestfriend, sympathy poking through his facial expression. Lana and Namjoon had been dating on and off for almost 2.5 years until that stupid ass decided he wanted to cheat and pursue other women like he had it like that. He for sure didn't though. He couldn't even make Lana cum properly. At all, even.

"Yeah, he didn't even know how to make you cum." Jungkook's eyes widened.

"The fuck?" He chuckled. "Really? After all these years?"

"Um, yeah. I guess that's just how he gets down." She says shyly. She was so innocent, being that she hadn't really been in a relationship besides with Namjoon. She hadn't explored much being that he was so narrow minded and she did a lot to keep him happy in the relationship.

"So.. would you like, fake it?" Jungkook asks, curiosity in his eyes.

"No, she wouldn't even get there babe!"

"Huh?" He's utterly confused and he's not even trying to hide it.

"He would like, you know, do it until he came then that was it."

"Huh." He nods. "He wouldn't even try? Interesting." Kook says, making you laugh. "I make Y/N cum at least 5 times a day."

"Shut the fuck up, boy. No you don't." You throw a fry at him.

"Boohoo, okay. It's like 3 at the very least. I could make her cum more but she's always crying for me to stop cause she can't take it." You raise your middle finger at your boyfriend.

"H-how does it feel?"

"To cum?" Kook asks.

"Euphoric. Like no other." You respond. Jungkook looks at you, then back at her, a little turned on by the conversation. Lana was pretty, and she definitely deserved better as both you and Kook stated. She was innocent at best, but you knew she was curious.

"I wish I knew." She says, sipping on more wine, making a bright idea pop into your head.

"Hey." You lightly squeeze her side. "I have an idea, but it's totally okay if you don't wanna go with it. I don't wanna make you do something you aren't comfortable with."

"Hm?" She hums as she watches you give Jungkook a small smirk that he returns. He honestly doesn't know what your crazy ass is thinking about, but whatever it is, he's down. He always is, and that's what he loved about you - you were always down, and you taught him that. Life's too fucking short.

"Let's put you on." You say nodding to the room. "Let me and Kook show you what it's like." Jungkook almost chokes on his water.

"I-I— like a threesome? I don't know, I'm not that experienced, I wouldn't—"

"Girl, we'll guide you through it."

"But Jungkook, he's your boyfriend, I can't—"

"And that's not gonna change. He's down, trust me. Look at his stupidly cute face." You both turn to him, his doe eyes wide with a huge smile plastered on his face.

"Seriously though, Lana. If you aren't comfortable—" Jungkook chimes in, reassuring her.

"I'm down." She spits out and nods. "I'm down. Let's do it. As long as things don't change between us."

"It won't, I promise, okay?" You grab her hand and lead her to your room.

"Oh shit." Jungkook says, throwing the remote aside to catch you two. He walks in and stops at the door frame, watching you two sit on your bed. Honestly, he was down but he was also still feeling a little concerned about how this would go down. Of course, he was the only sober one here, you two being crossfaded almost out of your minds and more relaxed than he was. He didn't really have an issue though. As long as nothing changed between you, Lana and himself, then things would be fine. Especially between Lana and you. You had been bestfriends since college started.

He didn't think it would though, so fuck it.

"Just, follow along. Okay? If you're ever uncomfortable or want us to stop, just say so."

"Say ex or something weird." Jungkook spits out.

"Um, okay." You sit up on your knees as she leans back into your pillows, and gently start feeling up her arms.

"Relax, Lana." You say at a whisper, your lips about to fall onto hers. She takes the kiss as it builds up slowly. You feel her ease up, her arms climbing up yours as her tongue begins to explore and fight yours for dominance.

"Jeeeeesus fucking christ." Jungkook says, swiping his hand down his face as he continues to watch you and Lana tongue each other down. He felt himself getting harder by the minute, watching as the sound of sloppy, wet kisses began to fill the room and your shirts began to fly off. You pull away for a second to look back at him and signal for him to come over, his baggy long sleeve immediately coming off as he climbs onto the bed. You direct Lana to release your bra as you with hers. You're practically straddling her at this point, Jungkook's hands now roaming up your body. His hand grips your neck as he tilts it back, laying kisses along your jaw before nibbling your earlobe. You let out a breathy moan, your hips grinding against Lana's, causing her to bite her lip and let out a small moan as your hands begin to feel up on her breasts.

"Lay back." You say softly, Lana silently following the order. You begin to take off her leggings, throwing them across your room as Kook is gently laying kisses down your back. "Behind me, babe." You give him a quick look with Jungkook fully understanding the request. He steps off the bed, giving you space to lower yourself onto Lana's clothed clit. You press your lips against it while Jungkook is wrestling to take off your sweats and toss them aside, his fingers already getting busy with rubbing your clothed pussy as he tries to work with it from behind you and off the bed. Lana lets out a moan as she watches you closely, your finger hooking her panties to the side and your tongue giving her pussy a good swipe up. She trembles a bit with the contact, but settles quickly as you begin to work your mouth against her folds, then back up to her clit.

"Ohhhh shit. He's never done it like that." Lana says as she lets out a few breaths. You moan against her clit as Jungkook is now pumping his digits in and out of you quickly, his tongue continuously teasing, tip penetrating your entrance whenever his digits aren't doing the work. Lana's hips begin to buck upwards and grind onto your tongue, fucking her pussy more and more into this unfamiliar pleasure. "Oh fuck, oh my god! I don't know if I can do this." She whines as she grips the sheets, her knuckles turning white. You nod, signaling for her to let go as your tongue is now teasing her clit, working in up and down motions.

"Fuck, Kook!" You manage to spit out. You're so fucking turned on by the sight in your bedroom right now, and you have no idea if it's because you're pretty crossfaded, but this shit was pretty and all you wanted to do was feel good and make your bestfriend feel good. After all, she deserves to feel it once in her lifetime and if Namjoon wasn't gonna do that shit, then you'd gladly be the one to let her experience it.

"Cum for me, baby." He says as he quickly pulls back to give your pussy a good smack before he latches on again. "Let me feel it." The words alone, along with your moaning into Lana's clit, sends her over, her body trembling graciously in your grip.

"Fuck! What the fuck!" She screams, whining moans leaving her mouth quickly afterwards. You soon let yourself go, detaching yourself from her clit, your body trembling on all fours with Jungkook rubbing your clit like there's no tomorrow. The pain quickly turns into more pleasure, you crashing your body ontop of Lana's as you both try to regulate your breathing and come back down from your highs. Jungkook is hard as a fucking rock seeing the both of you completely fucked out already, especially you having done work on Lana at the same time as he pleased you.

"What do I do next?" You look at her as you finally gain the energy to raise your body a bit, shaking your head.

"Stay. Kook, get in her first." Jungkook is already unwrapping the first condom and sliding it down his dick.

"You both okay?" He manages to ask, Lana simply giving him a nod as he warns her with a tap of his reddened tip against her folds. "I'll take it slow. You just let me know what you want." You smirk down at her.

"Use him, Lana."

"W-what?" Her back slightly arches as her eyes roll to the back of her head feeling Jungkook fill her up. Although she had agreed to it, she didn't think her first fuck out of a relationship was gonna be with you and your boyfriend. Let alone did she ever think Jungkook would be penetrating her the way he was right now.

But fuck it. There's a first for everything.

"Use him." You repeat as you situate yourself on top of her, your lips landing back on hers with Jungkook's hand in your hair. "Tell him what you want to make you cum again."

"F-faster." She spits out in between kisses. Jungkook obeys, his thrusts now becoming quicker.

"Shit, dude." He says, his head tilting back in pleasure. "This is so fucking hot." You lower yourself a bit, your mouth latching onto her nipples one by one. You tease her a bit, your tongue flicking in and around her hardened bud, smirking into it when you hear her let out a loud moan.

"Fuck, yes. Please. Just like that." She begs. "Rougher please." You pull back on her nipple with a pop, lightly blowing air onto it as Jungkook begins to sloppily ram into her pussy. Caressing her skin, you can feel the goosebumps radiating throughout her body before you lower yourself back down onto her other nipple and repeat the process.

"Cum, Lana." Jungkook groans. "Cum all over this dick. It's your playing field right now." You smirk as your tongue continues to tease her nipple, her moans getting louder the more he hammers into her.

"Cum, babe." You say as you hop off and reach down to rub her clit. With just a few rubs, she's hurdling over the edge, her body trembling once more as she yells.

"Holy fuck! Ugghhhhhffffgod." Her breathing hitching as the aftershocks ripple through her.

"On your knees, babygirl." Jungkook orders you to get on your fours while switching out the condom to a new one, Lana slowly slipping out from under you to get on her fours and face you. Jungkook doesn't waste any time, roughly inserting himself into you and filling you up until he bottoms out. He feels a little more comfortable, knowing he can roughhouse the fuck out of you more than he could with Lana, so he begins to hammer into you and tug onto your hair at the same time.

"Jungkook, fuck." You moan, his large hand smacking your ass as he quickens his pace. Lana's now planting kisses along your neck while Jungkook holds you steady with your hair, her hands roaming around your breasts and giving them a good, gentle squeeze.

"Shit, I-I'm gonna cum soon." He says, biting his bottom lip. "Cum with me baby." He moans. Lana's hand travels down to your clit, copying what she's learned from you by rubbing it in circular motions.

"Ohhhhhhgod, yes!" You moan, but aren't able to release any other noise afterwards. You continue to whine as the loud, lewd noises of skin against skin continue filling the room. Sooner or later, you feel yourself unraveling, Jungkook's nails digging deep into your hips while Lana continues to rub your clit gently to help you ride out your high. "Oh my fucking god." You say as you try to regulate your breathing. Lana immediately throws her panties and her clothes back on, feeling shy with Jungkook being in the room.

"How'd that feel?" He says, throwing on his clothes while handing you yours. You look at her and smirk, licking your bottom lip.

"Good, I hope." Lana chuckles.

"Fucking amazing."

"Maybe we should do this more often."

"Baby, wait." Jungkook laughs. "You're fucking wild."

"She is, isn't she?" Lana rolls her eyes playfully.

"Hey, at least we gave you the ride of your life." You all make your way out of the room to get a little air and step away from the post sex-smelling room. "Next time I see Namjoon, I'll let him know what you look like when you cum." 

[heli0s-writes]

It Is Knowing*

HI THANKS FOR EVERYTHING. It’s been a wonderful ride. Here’s the last part of Bag of Tricks. It’s tender and smutty and stupid. All mistakes are my own.

Please stop reading if you are not over 18!

Bag of Tricks Masterlist

He’s terrified.

Suddenly he’s looking at you one way, and then in a flash, the same dumb grin you always give him— the crooked one on the cusp of an ill joke— turns bright white.

It goes brilliant like star fire and during a storm inside a standard-issued cabin hideout, Bucky thinks he must be losing his mind.

And maybe he’s been losing it for a few weeks now, but he’s done a great job dodging the reality of your confession so far. Doesn’t matter what you mumbled—cracked out on exhaustion and sleep-talking—because in the end, you’re his friend and you love him the same way you love everyone else: annoyingly. Nothing’s changed about that.

He hazards another glimpse.

“Help?” You ask from the table, angrily scratching out blocks of an attempted crossword puzzle.

Do it in pencil, he tried to warn earlier, but you only called him chickenshit because you’re—yep—annoying.  

“Foudre,” Bucky says carefully and you perk up at the sound of his voice. “It’s a… six-letter French word for thunder.” He clears his throat, gesturing toward the window splattered with rain.

“Oh-ho-ho,” you snort, “Smart boy, aren’t ya? FOO-DRUH.” An incredible bastardization of the term, and you sing around a chewed-up pen cap between your teeth. “My name’s Smart-Boy-Bucky and I know French, Russian, and Updog.”

“What the hell is Updog?”

Your face steels.

“Nothing much, how ‘bout you?”

And instead of going over there to kick your ass, all he can do is stare wordlessly as you break into a laugh—his entire body electric like a live wire.

-

He keeps telling himself there are only a few days before someone drops in to collect. He just needs a little bit of distance, some time alone to clear his head and get over this—thing.

But his brain feels like it’s melting while he waits, his stomach is probably developing an ulcer, and his heart is so fast and fierce that he can almost see the pulse in his sternum throbbing errantly.

Too many things are wrong. You’re his friend— and Bucky wants to throttle himself a little bit for ever letting you be his friend. You’re an unfiltered, oblivious dumbass and he doesn’t like that at all. You cry over animals and when he gets hurt because you’re an insufferable drama queen, too. He hates that. He does.

The sound of something enormous slamming on the ground makes him dash into the shared bedroom and—oh god, Bucky thinks he’s going to throw up.

First, the mattresses are on the floor.

Second, you’re. wearing. that. stupid. shirt.

The blue one. The one he used to love, hated for a bit, came back around to wearing, and now—yep, he officially hates it again.

“I think you’re too tall for the bunk.” You’re pushing the beds together, unaware of his clenched fists. “So if we sleep diagonally your feet won’t hang off—and can you believe it—” you point to the hem of cerulean brushing against your skin, “I packed three raincoats and no pajamas.”

At the sight of your creeping smile, Bucky loses it.

“Why are you going through my stuff?!” He shouts, gripping the doorframe with enough force to take the molding clear off. “Why are you touching my shit!?” And he probably sounds insane, flying off the handle like this, but he’s got a million grievances against you and this is just the tip of the iceberg.

“Mind your own fucking business!” He’s still unloading, unreasonably frantic at the sight of that terrible color hanging from your shoulders.

Bewildered, you plop down clumsily on your knees, gawking like a deer in the headlights.

Your bare legs, your fingertips on your thighs, the thin sleeves oversized and loose on your forearms, that smear of toothpaste on the collar, the hollow of your throat taut from holding your breath—it makes him want to grab you by the shoulders and shake you dizzy.

It makes him want to touch you. It makes him want you.

He’s sick. He’s dying. He’s so, so fucked.

“What…” Bucky quietly trails off, gasping helplessly as realization sinks in, “…what the hell is wrong with you...”

“Me?!” You shriek back, “What the hell is wrong with you? I’m over here worried about your crusty feet hanging off at night and you just swing in and take a dump on me?”

Bucky groans, miserable and guilty. “I’m sorry,” he says quickly, “Shit. I’m—I don’t know.”

“Eat my ass, dude!” you sneer, already tucked under the blankets. “I’m going to sleep. Turn off the fucking light you’re going to stand there looking like a dumbass.”

A feeble sigh as Bucky pushes his hands into his face, gripping his hair, pulling his own head back until he’s glaring at the ceiling, listening to the patter on the roof.

“You’re the dumbass,” he whispers.

You’re the dumbass with the emotional regulation problem. The idiot with the temper. The head full of sawdust. But, if it only took three careless words from your blundering mouth to make Bucky fall entirely apart, you must be right after all. He is the dumbass.

He feels split open like the sky—torn up completely, unable to make out anything in his own turbulence.

Fuck.

The sheets shift until he hears them slide off. Then, a pattern of bare feet across hardwood. He must look disastrous in the doorway, bent out of shape in uncharacteristic disarray.

“What is going on with you?” You find his arm, fingers wrapping around his wrists, tugging until they peel off his wretched face. “Why are you so upset? I wear your clothes all the time; I’m always in your stuff.”

He chuckles defeatedly because you really are always in his space. Throwing yourself into in his room. Eating chips in his bed. Squirreling away in his brain. Everywhere. Always.

Bucky presses his lips into a thin line, grimacing as he looks at you. Wordless and vulnerable, he can feel his brow sinking lower, throat narrowing around a swallow as he attempts to fix himself. A stutter falls out, then another, crackling syllables like surfacing thunder but never quite forming a sentence.

The earth groans, shaking the cabin and his precarious soul.

“What is it? Why are you looking at me like—”

And then, under a streak of lightning, recognition splits across your face.

“Don’t,” he pleads to the silence, “Don’t say it.”

The seconds stretch into horrible eons of slow passing time. You tilt your head this way and that, eyes going from his face to his hands, limp at his side with your own fingers still grasping on.

“Jesus, Bucky,” you say gently, “You’re—my best friend.”

Bucky shuts his eyes. “I know. I’m not trying—"

“Bucky,” you interrupt, faster now. “Bucky,” suddenly elated and laughing. “Bucky—shut up.”

And then the entire room bursts into flames. Your lips are searing hot against his— plump and eager, leaving scorching trails everywhere they touch, and Bucky burns up like a solar flare trying to catch his breath.

“You’re an idiot,” you laugh, kissing him again. His cheeks, his jaw, his chin. “A real idiot.”

He’s terrified and dizzy, fumbling with a million possible outcomes and failing painfully each time. Relationships never quite work out for him; he’s dated a few girls and liked them a lot, too, but they’ve never turned out how he wanted them to. And this one—this one, he really can’t fuck up.

He’s got a bad track record, and with you, never knowing is much better than losing.

“Hey, you’re going crazy in there. I can hear it.” A sweet smile as your lips hover over his. The sweetest your face as ever looked. “Stop thinking, Bucky. Kiss me.”

Your lashes are so long and pretty. The dip of your cupid’s bow, a shape he adores. Even the tiny scar on your neck and the way your hair moves— wispy strands framing your face. Sounds of happiness tumbling out, hand firmly inside of his.

“It’s just me.” Joyful. Comfortable. “You know me.”

Your eyes glimmer—a familiar color calling him home.

“Yeah,” he chokes out, “Yeah, I do.”

Steve was the more competent linguist in their old days. Rolling French r’s, dropping ending consonants, silky smooth in pronunciation. Bucky’s tongue had always been more supplant to the Eastern European languages but, he knows enough of French—remembers enough from the war to recognize this:

Coup de foudre.

It’s the thing romantics exalt, the thing that half-strikes him now. The thunderbolt.

Love at first sight, even though it’s not quite first sight at all.

It’s not infatuated or starry-eyed. Not blind. Not feeling.

It is knowing.

And yeah, Bucky watches the way you pull him to the floor, euphoric and aglow, Jesus H. Christ, he knows.

This is it for him: your chaos, your entropy, your impulse. Your lack of personal space and foresight and good fucking sense. But—your kindness, too. Your care. Your heart.

Calm and patient as you settle down into his lap, the warm weight of you seems to be the only thing keeping him on earth.

“Can I touch you?” You ask shyly.

His voice is barely audible, hands unsure of where to rest, heart swollen in his throat.

Bucky flushes, and in the split second of your tongue sweeping over your bottom lip, he tells himself do it, you coward, just fucking do it—and god help him, he does.

He presses his face into your neck, kissing hungrily, anywhere he can, down to your collar and chest and then he’s lifting you up by the thighs and instinctively pulling everything off.

You’re both surprised and excited, blinking at his urgency, and then you start scrambling, too.

His shirt gets flung behind your back. Both pants disappear somewhere else. One hand goes into his hair, other guiding him between your legs where you smear all over his fingers.

Bucky stutters breathlessly like he might go into shock. “You’re all fucking— oh fuckin’ hell.”

You only arch into it, holding his chin between your thumb and forefinger, kissing the bristles of his jaw. You’re soft and warm and he’s utterly overcome. Little noises fall from one mouth to another. An awkward shift and your thighs slip off his, head knocking into him, but neither of you are bothered.

He feels perfect in your hands. A silly grin blooms on your lips before you tip forward and glide yourself over his length, rubbing back and forth, hips moving easily.

His abs clench in time with his fists, wet fingers digging into his palms, bit-back groans barely contained. You keep going, marveling at the way he’s sensitive, kissing his neck, letting him feel good. Bucky begins to protest, embarrassed at the way you’re moving, at how he’s unquestionably powerless.

“S-slow—hold on—“

“Let me do it, Buck.” He’s so hard it hurts. “I wanna learn everything you like.”

Jesus. Fucking. Christ. Bucky holds himself to calm down, other hand steadying your teasing. Nothing’s happened yet and he might already blow his whole fucking load.

“Okay—just—will you give me a second--"

Using the position you’re already in, he lifts you up and brings you back down, a bit at a time until you’re landing on his hand with a gasp. He uses his fist as a stopper, letting you have it slow, feeling you shudder from inside your goddamn bones with every further inch until he takes it away and you shimmy down to the hilt.

Your eyes roll back. And you look perfect.

“Was it good?” He blurts, “With Thor?”

He doesn’t know why it slips out; he never thinks about it, honest. It was a hook up. One time—and he’s not jealous like that because you’re all adults, and it’s not like he’s a virgin or an ascetic, either. You freeze, but he really is an idiot because instead of apologizing or rectifying that outburst, he cuts you off.

“I can give it to you better.”

Because Bucky wants to. He really does.

He presses onward before you can respond, taking hold of what little courage he has, making you whimper, feeling prouder as he goes. Another one and you’re meeting him with a roll of your own hips. Another one, harder now, and you’re shaking on top, tipping him backward into the cushions, grinding recklessly with that exhilaration he adores.

“Bucky, you feel amazing.” Tongue-tied like a schoolboy, he’s keening after your words. “Can I have you all the time?” And Jesus wept who knew you could talk so sweet and filthy.

“Yeah, sweetheart,” Bucky promises, his jaw hanging open in awe, “I’m yours. You can have me as much as you want— anytime.”

You bite your lip, skin of it pulled taut and snapping back bruised, light-headed and reeling. Glistening across your collarbones with his spit, body trembling like a high note. He feels it— just a little more— god, you look incredible— he’s gotta hold out for this— and then—fuck. 

It’s wet and divine when you come. Slick and tight, dragging him under as you ride out your orgasm, pulling him in like he belongs in you forever.

And he knows. He knows, he knows, he knows.

Bucky could die happy seeing your face like this every day.

-

It’s rougher in the morning. In the shower, soaking together. Faster.

On the couch, next. With him asking you to put your hand here, move your leg there.

He wants to learn everything you like, too.

You eagerly change positions, giggling when your knee slips and you pitch forward onto his chest. The two of you take a moment to compose yourselves, pinching each other, kissing in-between. He commits to memory the way your lids flutter when he touches you. The way everything moves easy and wonderful, sometimes lazy, sometimes harried, but always fun.

Yelping when you bite too hard. Biting you back even harder. Positions neither of you have surprisingly tried before, but why not start?

Cursing. So much cursing. A lot of it good—fuck me, yes, more, don’t stop—but truthfully, most of it stays about the same.

Barnes, you got a juicy ass.

Will you shut up!

And he never thought a person was supposed to laugh so hard during sex, or if maybe that’s just your own brand of love, but he doesn’t want to find out with anyone else.

It’s the fifth time, and Bucky’s dick is about to fall off—how are you still doing this—just a few thrusts in when the banging on the front door frightens the both of you into your clothes.

Sam swings it open and Bucky is desperately tucking himself into his pants before—please, no.

“It smells like ass in here!” Sam hollers, “The hell have you two been—oh my god.”

“Shut up, Sam!” You respond from the corner of the room, head ripping through the neck hole of a sweater, legs wiggling into a pair shorts. Bucky is still shirtless, hoping he might spontaneously combust.

“Oh my god,” Sam whispers again, “Oh… my god.” He sputters on the verge of either eruption or death.

“You freaky little—” he hisses, before screaming, “Oh hell no! I’m here picking y’all asses up. Landed the damn jet like two miles away, walked my happy ass through the rain— you butt-ass-naked in here—” He stands ram-rod straight, hands on his hips angrily. “I’m tellin’ on y’all.”

“Telling on?! What are you, five!? You’re so annoying, Sam!”

“Annoying? What’s annoying is—I’m wet! And well— you wet too, huh?”

“I hate you.”

Sam snickers, high-fiving himself before crossing his arms, “Really though, believe me when I say this for everybody who’s ever met you two: finally. Now get y’all freaky asses outside so I can go home and drink myself into forgetting I ever saw Barnes’ dick.”

You pat him on the shoulder, “It’s nice, huh?”

Sam dry-heaves, “Uh-uh. That’s enough. Go wash your damn hands.”

A few minutes later, Bucky locks the door to a now silent cabin, damp with sweat and the smell of earth. It’s torrential still, two days bucketing and the ground is so wet mud goes up to his ankles. Luckily, and he wants to laugh at that, you packed two extra raincoats.

Thunderclaps shake the very ground he stands on. Bucky turns to look at you, marveling when electricity bounces off your eyes, lighting up your face. He reaches over.

A squeeze to your hand that says I’m yours.

One more, tighter. I love you.

You slot your fingers between his. I know.

You smile at the next streak in the sky. Me too.

[sabraeal]

Sic Semper Monstrum, Chapter 6

[Read on AO3]

Obiyukiweek 2021, Day 2: Death Upright: Change, Ending, Release Reversed: Refusal to Change, Unfulfillment, Stagnation

A seam strains along a well-worn shoulder, so stretched he can actually hear it creak over the din of the canteen. That clinches is: that asshole’s got to be picking out too-small fatigues from the GI bin.

There’s no other way for him to look like that, biceps testing the tensile strength of cotton every time he takes a sip of his coffee. Sure, this guy’s jacked the way all the active rangers are, ready to heave 750 tons of metal onto their backs at a moment’s notice, but he’s not Mitsuhide. It makes sense when he pops buttons off his coverall, or stretches out one of their dingy cotton tees. But that’s not this asshole.

He’s lean, the kind that telegraphs that taking an elbow from him might be career limiting. There’s no reason the general issue tee should cling to his back like it’s painted on, his coverall hanging off his hips like he’s got an occupation other than freeloading. Shirayuki leans over, fingertips brushing over his sleeve with a laugh--

“Just punch him already,” Kiki drawls, “get it out of your system.”

Zen blinks, suddenly aware there’s still some Taco Tuesday left in his mouth. “What?”

“Kiki.” Dark bruises circle the skin beneath Mitsuhide’s eyes, underscoring the weary strain in his voices. “We shouldn’t be encouraging that sort of behavior.”

“Why not?” Her elbows dig into formica as she leans over her plate, shoveling rice into her mouth. At her father’s table, Kiki knows the use of every spoon, the name of every fork, but this deep in the dome, Ranger Seiran’s never met a meal she can’t inhale in five minutes flat. “I did it.”

Air hisses right through his perfect teeth, the only sign he’s annoyed besides the tense bar of his shoulders. “And you’re lucky you didn’t get caught.”

Kiki hums around the lip of her mug. “You mean like you did with Lugis?”

Mitsuhide doesn’t have skin like his, the sort that flares up like flash paper at the barest hint of sun or taunting. But still his neck flushes red as a burn, so bright Zen’s half tempted to slap it, just so he knows what it’s like.

“T-that was an accident,” he insists, even as his mouth settles into a satisfied smile. “Even the inquiry said so.”

It’s a struggle to keep his own from curling at the edges. “Only because Lugis didn’t want to press charges.”

“Only because he didn’t want it getting out that a girl ran circles around him on the mat,” Kiki corrects, each word a scalpel’s slice, excising those particulars from that shitshow with surgical precision. They can talk about this; Lugis’s challenge and the way Kiki swept him; that he was hardly on his feet when Mitsuhide somehow mislaid his fist and found it in his face, but everything else, the whys of it--

Those are all off the record. Forever. Or at least they would be, if Lugis wasn’t crawling through the dome like a stoat that’s caught whiff of an egg.

But that’s not what this is about. “And you want me to do that with that asshole?” Zen mutters. “Since it made Mitsuhide such good friends with Lugis, after all.”

“Obi isn’t Hisame,” Kiki informs him with the kind of steel in her tone that suggests she won’t be taking critique on that particular assessment. “All your issues with him are external.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he snaps, teeth gritting down.

It’s a mistake, a rookie one at that: never ask a Seiran a question you don’t want the answer to. “He’s got Shirayuki’s attention and you don’t.”

Mitsuhide clears his throat, shoulders set like Zen better plan to shelter in place. This particular storm isn’t about to hit its usual conversational breakwall. “Attention you’d have, if you hadn’t skipped out on your session.”

Zen grips the table to take that hit. But it’s not nearly the last; the stare Kiki turns to him is wide-eyed, half-betrayed. “You didn’t say anything about that.”

“It’s none of your business.” Even as the words fly from him, he knows it’s not fair, that he’s spitting nails into the wind so that they’ll hurt someone else instead of him. It doesn’t stop him, it never does, but a guilty knot settles in his gut. “The sessions are voluntary. They always have been. I don’t need--”

“Someone to keep your head on straight?” Every syllable snaps like ice, her eyes twice as cold. “That was the whole point, wasn’t it? So if something happens to us, you’d have--”

He can’t listen to this, not another word. “That was never the plan! I would never plan for you guys...”

Not coming back. For Redwood Dancer to be left a ruin on the sea floor, their bodies strapped in, hermetically sealed until the ocean wore the jaeger down to parts.

“Nothing is happening to you guys,” he grits out. “Shirayuki was always an addition, not a-- a replacement, because you’ll never--”

“No one can promise that.” Mitsuhide’s never one to throw a first punch, but oh, does he know how to end a fight. All the breath’s knocked clean out of him, and there’s Dancer’s right hand, shoveling down another bite of rice like it’s nothing. “Every time we go out there it’s a flip of a coin. It doesn’t matter how good we are, one day there’s going to be a kaiju that kicks us clean off our feet.”

He shakes his head, wishing the words would fall right out of them. “No. That’s not--”

“Zen.” He’s never heard a siren’s call, but it can’t be as inexorable as Mitsuhide saying his name in that tone, both firm and pitying and mournful all at once. “You know better than anyone. Rangers don’t grow old.”

There’s no thought when he levers himself up from the table, just up with away chasing its heels. He just can’t be here listening to this, not now, not after they just barely crawled home from another kaiju clawing its way across Korea’s shoreline. Not when he knows he should be fighting shoulder-to-shoulder with them-- that he would be if they stopped trying to saddle him with every rookie that rolled out of the simulator and finally put him with the only person that could fill that brace beside him.

“Zen!”

It’s easy to ignore Mitsuhide’s shout over the dinner rush; it’s just part of the noise, a buzz at the edge of his senses. Something to goad him, to push him out of there before either of them think to follow after. Their pity’s the last thing he needs, the last thing he wants. After all, it’s not him that won’t climb in the Conn-Pod, but his--

“Boss!”

Zen blinks, the empty corridor resolving around him. He’d let his feet carry him, their only imperative away-- and now he’s all turned around, every bulkhead the same. He’s heard about this happening to rangers when they lived in the dome too long; chasing the Minotaur, a ranger called it, three drinks down at the local hangar. And no fine little princess to give you string to find your way out.

Except he did have one of those. A person to help him through the labyrinth, even if she couldn’t show him the way. He’d been avoiding her.

That seems stupid now. It’s not like she’s on that asshole’s--

“Hey! Hey, boss.”

Speak of the devil. Zen turns, and there he is, too-tight t-shirt and all: his own personal problem. “What do you want?”

“Nothing.” He holds out his hands, as if that’s proof enough to clear him of ulterior motives. “I just...saw you head out and it looked like...”

Zen’s shoulders square, body braced like they’re back on the mat. “Looked like what?”

Obi’s breath rushes out of him. “It looked like you shouldn’t be alone.”

It’s not until he lifts his hand that he realizes it’s trembling, barely able to push his bangs back where he needs them. “Yeah? And you thought-- what? I’d want to see you?” Even to his own ears, his laugh is bitter, wrong, like it came from someone else’s mouth. “You, the guy who won’t get out of my way?”

Something ripples across this asshole’s face, too fast for him to catch more than its wake. “You think I’m the stick stuck in the mud here?” When those strange cat’s eyes stare at him, it’s out of placid waters, but that grin on his face-- it doesn’t reach them. “Rock, meet hard place.”

Zen’s hands clench, so hard his knuckles creak. “You think this is a joke? You’re trying to shove your ass in a seat that isn’t for you, and you--”

“You think I want to be out there?” He lets out a bark somewhere between pitying and derisive, arms folding over his chest. Zen takes special care not to check how stressed his seams are. “I did my time, Your Highness. I got out. I got told no one would ever look for me again.”

“Then why are you here?” Zen spits. “No one wants you.”

“You don’t know how true I wish that was.” A hand pulls at his shoulder, long fingers digging in around the blade. “But your brother dragged me down the coast because I’m not done. I’ll never be done, because I can’t sit on the sidelines and watch Snotju or Head Banger or whatever cosmic asshole crawls out of the rift wreck another wall.”

His hand lifts, scrubbing through the bristle of his hair, just a shade too shaggy to be regulation. “It’s fucked up, isn’t it, Master? I’m the one who doesn’t want to be here, but I’m the one who’s got the balls to get back in that jaeger. And you--” a cold gaze rakes over him-- “you’re content to sit there and watch the world burn just because I’m not--”

“Shut up.” He’s trembling, every muscle straining against his self-control. “Shut the fuck up. You don’t know a goddamn thing--”

“I’ve been in your head,” that asshole reminds him. “I know exactly what I’m talking about.”

“You don’t.” He can’t. “You don’t fucking know a thing about me.”

He cocks a hip, grin loaded like a bullet. “The prove it.”

Kiki’s right: in the instant where his knuckles hit that cut-glass cheekbone, Zen feels great.

Shirayuki’s office has always put him at ease; he stepped in here the first time before she’d even properly covered the walls, the tension seeping right out of him into the push carpet under his boots. There’s just something about how she fills a space-- something that has nothing to do with furniture or wall hangings or motivational posters-- that makes his brain put out whatever chemical that means safe. He’d never understood why the other rangers avoided her, not when they could have forty minutes in the room equivalent of a warm hug.

But it’s different this time.

“Izana made you call me here.” He’s ramrod straight on her worn couch, hands clenched in his lap. Or rather, right over the throw pillow he moved to sit. “Didn’t he?”

“The Marshal’s personal feelings have nothing to do with this.” Her words snap like a window on a sill, closing on that topic with a sense of finality he expected from the top brass, not their therapist. “The PPDC’s code of conduct is quite clear on the procedure to be followed after a non-sanctioned physical altercation between personnel.”

There’s a loose thread right by the fringe; he’d noticed it months ago, but never dared to tug it. Every time he’d felt the urge, he’d think of dominoes and load-bearing pillars, of the whole edge unraveling in his hands right as she looked at him.

Today, he pulls. It comes right off with a snap. “And that’s the only reason you brought me in?“

Shirayuki turns to him, one incredulous brow raised. “You were the one who cancelled our last session--” her mouth twitches as she twists the knife-- “last minute.”

Well, he deserves that one. Sure, he’s had his reasons, but Shirayuki-- well, she deserved more than one step up from ghosting. If the thought of having to look anyone in the eye after all that hadn’t made his stomach turn for three days, maybe he would have come to that conclusion before Kiki ripped him a new one over it.

“Sorry about that,” he mutters, aware with every word that it’s not enough, that there’s not enough apologies to patch up the trust he broke. “I wasn’t...ready to talk.”

He expects the clap back; yeah I got the message, or but you were ready to take a swing? But he should have known: that’s not how Shirayuki works. She’s a professional, whether that’s what he wants from her or not.

Instead he face softens, right back into his friend. “I know. What happened in the drift can be...intense.” She hesitates, teeth sinking into the plush bow of her lip. “I just wish that you had felt comfortable conveying that to me. As my patient, you’re supposed to be able to control--”

“I don’t want to be your patient.”

Her mouth closes with a grunt, hand pressed to her stomach as if he hit her. “O-oh,” she murmurs, breathless. “I hadn’t realized that you, ah, wanted to terminate our sessions--”

“No!” God, it would be nice to be able to say this all smooth like he’s sure that jacked asshole can, leaning against a wall with his hand right by her head, sexual tension rocking the Richter scale. “I just meant--” his teeth try to grind down his thoughts into something palatable-- “Shirayuki, I don’t want to just be your patient.”

He could fall into her eyes they’re so wide, rounded ‘o’s that match her mouth’s geometry. “Ah, Zen, that’s...”

“I don’t mean because I-I like you.” Even though he does, but there’s rules for that. The kind the PPDC will look the other way on, but not Shirayuki. She’s not from under the dome; she still worries about what people might think outside of it. “I just...wish you were on my side.”

“I am on your side.” Her shoulders pull straight against the back of her chair, her soft look hardening into resolve. “Which is different from telling you want you want to hear.”

He jerks back, cheeks stinging like he’d been slapped. “I didn’t say I wanted that,” he mumbles, hands clenching over his lap. “But I don’t need you to tell me to do whatever it is Izana wants me to either.”

“I wasn’t going to.” The notebooks in her lap closes with a snap, and with trembling fingers, she sets aside her shield. “Izana wants you back in a jeager for the legacy. For the unbroken line of Wisterias standing between humanity and the rift. But I...”

Her eyes lift to his, and they’re no longer the lush, leafy green of a forest, but the hard glint of emerald. “If you get back in that cockpit, you need to do it for yourself.”

It’s an effort not to say, I don’t see the difference.

“I saw you when the siren went off.”

Zen scrubs a hand over his face; he remembers. Their eyes had met over that seething mass of fear and competence, and-- and he’d been so sure that if he saw her, something more than that glimpse of red in the corner of his vision, he’d forget every inch of his resolve and go to her. That he’d just take her in his arms and tell her all the thoughts roiling in the sea of his mind, but--

But he hadn’t. He’s taken one look at her and, without even a pang of guilt, left her there. A real hero.

“Zen.” She says his name so firmly, so seriously, that his head jerks up, gaze tangling with hers. “You don’t want to be on the sidelines. You don’t want to be the general hiding being his troops. You want to be out there, Rex Tyrannis shoulder-to-shoulder with Redwood Dancer. And you could be.”

It’s his breath that’s rasping, the death rattle of the man he’s let himself be these past few years. “How?”

There’s not an ounce of hesitation in her when she says. “You have to choose to move forward.”

And cozy up in the cockpit with that asshole. He thinks about that grin, cocked with a confidence he’s never been in the neighborhood of having, and...

It’s so familiar that his double vision makes his head pound. “I can’t work with that-- Obi. I won’t.”

“I know that...” Her lips press together, bursting apart with a pop. “I know there’s no limit to the amount of people a ranger could potentially drift with, but there’s something...special when you find the right one. That there’s something right about it than can’t ever be replaced.”

He stares, head galloping in his chest. She shouldn’t know that-- there’s no way she could. Most rookies out of the academy just drift successfully once, and that’s it-- that’s their partner, for better or worse, like marrying the first kid you kiss. There’s exceptions-- emergencies, injury, irreconcilable differences-- but even though this job has a high turnover...rangers rarely die alone. There’s not enough people for a paper.

“Yeah, I’ve...heard that too.” Probably from the same mouth she did, though it seems Mitsuhide’s polished the speech since he last gave it. To him, at least.

“I understand that you have a vision of who you want beside you in the pod,” Shirayuki presses, voice growing tighter, more tense with every word. “But Atri’s gone.”

Every drop of blood in him turns to ice. “Atri?”

Her breath hisses out through her teeth, relief slumping her shoulders. “I know no one can be him, but--”

“You think this is about Atri?” A giggle bubbles up from him, bitter on his tongue. “I’ve been sitting here for weeks-- no, months! And you think all this, the whole reason I won’t climb in a jaeger with just anyone off the street is because of Atri?”

Every corner of her face lost. “Isn’t it?”

“No, I...” He pinches the bridge of his nose, like it might stem the pounding of his heart behind his brow. This whole time he’d been so careful, trying to be understood for once, to let someone see him instead of his mistakes--

But he should have known; as long as his brother is obsessed with sending him an endless parade of nobodies which he sits behind a desk, it’ll only be his hang ups hung out for everyone to rifle through.

“I should go,” he finally manages, levering himself to his feet. The room spins, his heartbeat thrumming in his ears, but he can’t stay here, not when she thinks-- when she’s always thought--

“Zen,” she murmurs, voice muffled by distance. “Are you all right?”

--That he’s pathetic. “Yeah.” He stumbles to the door, swinging it open. “I just need to--”

And of course, standing right there is that asshole, hand half-raised to knock.

“Boss,” he breathes, clearly stunned. “I, uh, didn’t think you’d be...”

The awkwardness in the office is palpable, so thick that he might as well be moving through molasses. Before this guy showed up, he’d though he had half a chance; he was practically the only one outside of K-Science that would even look at her, and his sessions always felt like more, but now--

Well, it’s no wonder he didn’t stand half a chance next to him, if she thought he was waiting for Atri.

“Don’t worry about it.” Zen pushes back him, shoulder clipping his. Or at least near enough to claim the feat. “I’d hate to keep you two from your--” date-- “dinner plans.”

Shirayuki’s breath gasps from her. “Zen, wait, we’re not--”

“It’s fine,” he lies, every muscle tense where he stands, fighting the urge to look back. “A couple of things are clearer now.”

It’s not just her. They all think he’s waiting for him, that one day he might stroll back in here like nothing happened, and Zen--

“Please.” Shirayuki’s voice trembles, and even if he’s not looking, he knows she’s at the door, vibrating in its frame. “Let’s just finish the session.”

-- and Zen’s been giving them nothing else to work with. All these years, looking like a kid stood up on prom night.

“No, I just remembered there’s something I’ve got to do.” He forces a smile on his face, giving her a bare hint of it as he peeks over his shoulder. “I’ll see you next week.”

It kills him how much hope lights in her eyes. “Next week?”

“That our appointment, isn’t it?” he says, light tone limping. “Unless I see you around the dome before then.”

“Right,” she breathes, cheeks flushed at both corners of her smile. Obi’s watching her, concern writ large in his eyes, and well-- maybe he’s not as much of an asshole as Zen wanted to believe. “Until then.”

He gets halfway down the hall, before Obi calls out, “Hey, boss...”

It’s clear when he looks back that Obi hadn’t meant to speak, but now that he has, he clear his throat, giving himself a visible shake.

“You could come with us,” he says, hesitant. “If you wanted.”

It’s an olive branch, one he doesn’t deserve. One he should take, if he wants all this to heal over without a scar. But he’s not ready for that, not yet.

“No.” He shakes head. “I wasn’t joking about having something I got to do. Go enjoy yourselves.”

This is a terrible idea.

He knows it the entire time he’s walking, the anxiety cresting the second he sees the plate on the door, engraved and letters painted black: IZANA WISTERIA. MARSHAL.

“Well,” Izana hums from his desk. “Are you going pace outside my office all day, or are you planning to come in?”

Zen lets out a rush of breath and pushes the door open the rest of the way.

“You win,” he says, all in a rush. “I’ll do it. I’ll give him another chance.”

“I think at this point, he’s giving you another chance,” Izana tells him, barely glancing up from his pile of papers. “But...I’ll arrange it.”

He nearly says, I figured you’d have it all arranged already, but bites it back. “Thanks.”

“My pleasure. And Zen.” His brother looks up, capping his pen calmly before he folds his hands over the desk. “It’s not me who wins. It’s humanity.”

“Yeah,” he breathes, meeting that steely gaze. “But I’m not doing it for them.”

For once, his brother doesn’t have anything to say.

It’s Obi who’s locked in first this time.

His cheeky smile is already waiting when Zen steps on deck, body gripped by Rex Tyrannis’s hydraulics when he throws him a wink. “Second time’s the charm, right Your Highness?”

“Third time,” Zen mutters, keying in his code. “It’s third time’s the charm.”

“Right, but you were top of your class.” A guy like Obi shouldn’t be so comfortable when he’s got twenty tons pinning him in place, not when he’s got a face just asking to be hit. “So we can shave one of those off, right?”

“Depends.” His mouth twitches. “Where did you rank?”

Obi’s grin grows stiff enough to float. “I think you’d say I’m a natural talent.”

“That bad huh?”

A laugh saws out of him, raw in the loud silence of the pod. “You have no idea.”

“I think I could take a guess.” The hydraulics hug Zen tight; even lifting to his arm to the panel is a chore. “Ready?”

“For you?” Obi’s mouth stretches into a leer.  For once, he feels like he’s in on the joke. “Any time.”

Don’t chase the rabbit. It’s Obi’s voice that says it; not the way he had before, serious and concerned, a scolding and a reminder. No, this one is a laugh restrained, sing-song. One pill makes you big and one makes you small.

There’s a faint riff of guitar, and Zen’s about to tell him to can it, that putting trash in the drift just clogged up the flow, but--

But between one breath-- one blink and the next, he’s lost in the tide, rolling through his memories rudderless. When a hand grips his shoulder and--

“I’m ready.” Zen’s always too honest, too eager but he’s young here, younger than he ever remembers being wearing the badge. “To pick up the legacy. To be what father meant us to be.”

The memory runs true, his younger self still chatting away with Shidnote, unaware that his whole world’s about to be cut off at the knees. But he’s not watching that now, he’s watching the way shadows crawl across his brother’s face, a storm front that appears and vanishes in the moments no one looks.

“About that.” Izana settles his hand on the desk, but the drumming is no longer bored but...nervous. An asynchronous beat that runs at the speed of his thoughts. “I meant to tell you. I’m being promoted.”

“Promoted” The word still kicks his legs out from under him, still knocks the wind out of his lungs as efficiently as any punch to the gut. “But I thought we would--”

“They want me in a command capacity now that Mother’s taking over Anchorage.” Izana won’t look at him. The man who has built his career on being able to stare down Orochi in Sagami Bay can’t bear to look him in the eye. “I’m being taken off active duty.”

“But--” He looks between them. “But--”

“But--”

“But--”

The memory stutters. It’s him, he’s the one who’s pushing away. He’d always thought he couldn’t give this to someone, to some guy right off the street, someone who might pity him, but it’s-- it’s him. He can’t look at this. He can’t face failure another time.

And he doesn’t know how to stop.

Hey. Obi’s voice is too close, but he’s just an outline in the drift, blues and grays fuzzing between misfiring synapses. Hey, we don’t have to watch this.

They do. They have to, if he’s going to get through this.

Right. There’s no way for Obi to sigh here, where there’s no air, but he does, long and loud. It sounds...different. Almost...feminine. I have worse. Want to see me wet the bed when I was--?

The words fuzz before they can continue. Go ahead, Obi says, sounding like himself. Take as much time as you need. It’s not like we have clocks here.

Zen can’t nod here, not without a body, but he breathes, one solid in and out--

“It’s supposed to be us.” Even with the distance of time, every word is carves straight from his flesh, laid out on a platter for his brother to see. “We’re supposed to carry on the legacy.”

“Shidnote will continue on in his current capacity,” Izana explains, bored, as if he didn’t even speak. “He’s served me well. I’m sure you’ll both be sufficiently compatible.”

“But--” Zen grits his teeth. “It’s supposed to be us. Why are you giving me an excuse--?

He blinks. He never said that. He’d been thinking it the whole way to his bunk, but in the moment it had only been a yes sir. I understand, sir.

Then why--

“It’s an excuse.” The shine’s all worn off Atri’s grin, baring the raw edge beneath. “That’s all I’ve ever been to you.”

Scrap litters the floor at his feet; he’s never known what jaeger-grade parts sold for on the black market, but he knows it’s not pocket money. This is a small fortune if someone knew where to sell it.

Which clearly Atri does.

“You’re going to blame me?” Zen’s laugh limps with bitterness. “I catch you with stolen goods, and it’s my--?”

“It’s not stolen, it’s salvage,” Atri snaps, snatching a length of steel from his hands. “It’s not like they’re using it.”

A lie-- there’s not a shred of steel or wire that’s wasted in the dome. Jaegars come with a price tag that only governments can pay, and any corner that can be safely cut on maintenance is considered savings passed onto tax payers. There’s no way he can’t know it, not after six months, but--

He doesn’t care. He never did.

“This is why you agreed to be my copilot.” Every word aches as he births them from his lips, a truth that cuts even as he speaks it. “You didn’t care about protecting your friends. You just wanted access to parts.”

Atri shrugs, the barest twitch of his shoulders. “I never said I gave a single fuck about all that hero shit. You just assumed I did, because you do.”

“But the drift...” His breath wheezes, the way it did when he was a kid, before his dad paid for all that to be fixed. “How did you...?”

“I just thought about the stuff you cared about. Friends. Kaiju. Me.” Atri’s grin turns smug. “Some of us don’t wear our heart on our sleeves, Wisteria.”

Wow. Obi’s outline fuzzes as he circles behind Atri, a single brow raised. He’s a real fucknut, huh?

His memories are jumbles, him-now and him-then all tumbled together until his first instinct is to jump to Atri’s defense. He may not be an academy-trained ranger, someone who has a lifetime worth of experience in a simulator, but put him in Rex Tyrannis and he’ll--

Steal the toilet cover? Obi offers, mouth canting into that insufferable grin. The one that always reminded him of--

Ah.

Obi darts a glance to where Atri stands frozen beside him. Jeeze, you really know how to hit a guy where he lives. You think I look like this asshole?

Just the grin, really. He’s almost a head taller, broader in the shoulders, and Asian besides. Better looking too--

Obi’s smile stretches into a leer. You don’t say, bossman?

Maybe Atri’s right. He’s got to get better about what he thinks about in the drift. Especially with someone this insufferable around.

If anything, Obi’s more amused. So it’s this guy though, he’s whole hold up you have with me? It’s not--

Against his will, Atri springs to life, mouth curled into his nastiest sneer when he says “I don’t know why you’re acting so betrayed. After all, you only wanted me to get back at the Marshal, and I played my part, didn’t I? I’m sure he’d jump in the pod if that meant he could be rid of me.”

“That’s not--” true, he should say. He can’t though, not when he’s not this-Zen, when he’s just looking out from his eyes, straight into Obi’s.

“Yeah.” There’s no spit to swallow in the drift, but he does anyway, a force of habit. “It is.”

The memory fuzzes away from him, and it’s just them now, two men braced in the Conn-pod, staring at each other through their visors.

“Right hemisphere, calibrated.” Zen blinks, watching as his hand opens and closes, the robotic voice’s dulcet tones washing over him.

“I never wanted this, you know,” he murmurs, “not if it wasn’t with my brother. That’s how it was supposed to be, me and him versus the kaiju.”

“Left hemisphere, calibrated.” His arms seem to move on his own, and it’s strange how he can’t keep the smile off his face this time. It feels good, moving like this again.

“No,” he breathes. “It was supposed to be me and him versus the world.”

“Ready to activate the jeager.“

Obi’s arms lift, a fighting stance to mirror his. It’s easy, so easy. Easier than he ever thought it could be. “What changed?”

He’d shrug, if the hydraulics would let him, but this isn’t Redwood Dancer. “Seemed like a shitty reason not to save the world.”

“Calibration complete.”

Obi grins, teeth shining bright under the lights of his visor. “Doc tell you that?”

Zen laughs. “Pretty much.”

“She’s got a gift,” Obi agrees, hands moving in sync with his. “And it’s making you feel like an asshole.”

“Tell me about it.”

“Looks like you jokers are getting along,” Kiki deadpans through their helmets. “How do you feel about taking Rex out for a drag?”

“After being cramped under this dome for months, Princess?” Obi drawls, tossing him a conspiratorial wink. “It’d be my pleasure.”

“Just give us a sec!” It’s been a long time since Zen’s talked much with the crew in CIC, but he recognizes that voice-- Yuzuri, one of Shirayuki’s friends. The peppy one with the cute accessories. The one that told him she’d give him cement shoes if he made her cry. “Let’s see if we can get you off your leash.”

He’d always liked her. Hopefully the feeling’s mutual, since she’s right next to the plug.

“Hey, boss.”

Zen blinks, glancing across the cockpit. “Yeah?”

“I know Atri was supposed to be a big fuck you to His Majesty, but...” He hesitates, thoughtful. “You drifted with the Big Guy for a while after that. Why?”

“Ah--”

It’s impossible not to think of it, the siren rising in the air, the men running past them, voices drowned out by the drone.

“I’ll do it,” he says, glaring up at the man across from him. “At least you know you’re just a seat warmer.”

“Zen--”

He blinks, the memory stuttering beneath him. That’s not what Mitsuhide called him then, that wasn’t until after--

“Zen.”

That’s not inside the memory, that’s inside his helmet. “Mitsuhide?”

“You’re out of alignment.”

He shakes his head, uncomprehending. “What do you--?”

“You’re out of alignment.” He repeats, each words strained. “You both chased the rabbit, and...Obi went straight down the rabbit hole.”

It doesn’t make any sense. “But I--”

“You have to go get him,” Mitsuhide says, dire. “He’s pointing the plasma cannon at Mission Control.”

[aks3raao1]

Me, to Luja: So tell me about yourself

Luja: No

Me: ...ma'am I need to write the story—

Luja: Good luck <3

[now that I do think of it, ALTERNATIVE's main duo that's established right at the beginning is literally a chiller but edgier Katsuki and way worse sUrViVe Nagito genderbends]

~~~~~~

Luja Sen, she/her

Anyways, Luja and Romila are friends from middle school (the story starts with the beginning of their high school at AoS (Academy of the Specialised) which was essentially founded by Nyx). Luja gains her Specialisation (Ferrokinesis: The Ability to bend metal) at the age of twelve, so she has it for a lesser time period than Romila.

Luja primarily wants to become a scientist. Her family is happy with that, because it's praised and everything, especially in our society.

She has a gifted child superiority complex. Being a gifted child + Specialised means that she hardly had many friends in school. Her family had tried to get her to socialize....which didn't go down too well.

She believes that most people are annoying because they waste too much time on useless things like gossiping and what not, which she never showed much interest in and doesn't like to be dragged into those nonsense.

She is friends with Romila since they do share the same taste in stuff and were the only Specialised ones in their class. And they kinda stuck together for most of middle school and went into high school.

She has a problem when it comes to seeing Romila since she tends to see her bad parts and is like, "It's a phase" considering that it's not necessarily affecting her. Romila doesn't get too cranky with her since she fascinates her, with her passion™ for science. Also because she isn't all self sacrifice UwU.

Luja cares for her own self above others (but tends to put Romila pretty close to that hierarchy, which is why she's one of the only two Romila trusts during the Mansion of Death (the other person is Kratanos)) however she also does want to keep what friends she has and is generally caring towards them.

She has a genuine love for science and loves to discover how things work and why, and her favourite facet is Physics. She does want to invent things and honestly just make stuff easier for the Specialised who face a LOT of issues, especially when it comes to amenities since the government is an ass about accomodations and they gained the Fundamental Rights like ten years or so ago in the ALTERNATIVE timeline. And they gain an additional right ("The body won't be harmed for science") when they graduate from school, after signing a contract that they dedicate themselves to helping the government when called upon. (The whole contract is stupid and basically oppresses them more especially the punishment for not abiding by it).

With her goal of becoming a scientist, she wants to use her talents to make accomodations specifically for them so that she could have done something.

The things she fears the most is failure. Failing as in being unable to accomplish her goals. She is afraid of it because it's an unknown variable that's constantly haunted her and she's working hard for it to never reach her.

I suppose there's a way for her to confront that fear during the Mid terms at AoS where she essentially "loses" in the practicals due to her......teamwork issues.

Everyone thinks of her as stuck up and isn't interested to listen to her much and since she views the others as annoying people with annoying habits, she tends to fail to regulate them, causing Romila to win instead (yes, it's THAT unfortunate of a situation) in their match, which causes her to review a LOT of things and she tries to see what caused her to lose after having a severe breakdown.

She develops an inferiority complex in respect to Romila and then spends a long time wondering where she went wrong.

Rena (who somehow clung to her) tries to cheer her up but gets turned back halfway, but she still stays on and Luja is like, "Wtf" until she sees Romila going entirely off the deep end (she presents an interesting contrast to how Koldin sees Romila as well, she sees Romila's behavior and considers it as a justification for her own self....she uses Romila to justify herself a lot (since if you asked Romila, Luja was more or less fine according to her since she wasn't being a doormat and stood up for herself) while Koldin sees Romila as the reason he should cling onto his own stuff) and realises that she could be on the path to destruction herself and accepts Rena's help and tries to be more open to others which leads to the Mid terms parallels in the Archenemy of Society arc where she "succeeds" instead and manages to get the class together enough to escape the situation.

However it doesn't mean that her fear of failure has entirely vanished into the blue, she just reviews the ways she can fail better now and works around it to avoid it and has more confidence in her own self. But she is still scared of failing and would love to avoid that more than anything. However she's chiller after that.

Her intelligence is more or less on par with both Romila and Kratanos, making them the three main strategists in the final battle against the bigots (which is basically a rerun of the Mansion of Death situation but way way worse and fucked up and has different leads to it).

....

The thing is that, no matter what I do, she winds up feeling like one dimensional/repetitive, which is something I am trying to amend about all the characters (I mean, I had to revamp a lot of characters so it will probably take me a long long time to actually get to writing.........sigh besides she stands up like a cardboard amongst people (I mean, you have Romila and Kratanos with extremely complicated storylines and then you have her. Just there))

So the main question is how to make her more interesting as a character and on par with the rest while still keeping her character flaws and personality?

I think the easiest way to go abt this is to view her as a sassy Bakugo. They have the main points in common. They're salty, don't like to socialise, feel inferior to a certain someone while still having some semblance of confidence and a terrible fear of failure

Now as much as I hate to compare your character to another one, it makes it a lot easier to have them become - as my English teacher would say - more. So I am sorry if this comes off as offensive-

For Bakugo, he became interesting by playing a big part in the mc's main story and we do get a few scenes where his vulnerability is shown. I assume it's the same with your character but...what rlly ties the knot for me when it comes to Katsuki is the fact that his problems...are more than just an inferiority/superiority complex. His whole thing stems from background especially (*cough* abusive mom *cough*) and the fact that he's not the main character (or rather that the story isn't being told in his perspective).

These facts make us over think and want more of him. The mystery draws us in which is why I think Luja's character is so perfect for someone in the background. She doesn't like to reveal things abt herself and is pretty dismissive to most things on top of that (plainly just salty). Her character rlly draws you in and the best way to portray those kinds of characters is through another character. Ofc, you'd have to get to their POV eventually but it's important to note that most of the details should come from someone else's POV (an observer, if you will) instead of info dumping and starting straight with hers. A character that's mysterious with a very simple yet relatable story attracts a LOT more attention and interest when seen from someone else's perspective than when you kickstart it from theirs.

Ofc, if u are planning (or already have) started the story from her POV, that would be a bit problematic in terms of interest. But not a train wreck. This is where my other point comes in. The point of making a character have more than one problem

Different ppl as well as characters have a main problem but also different ones, no matter what way you look at it. It seems that even you are confused with all ur character's ins and outs (dw, we've all been there... I am still there tbh) and a solution to that is backtracking a bit and looking at their life from the very beginning in HEAVY detail (like more than u already did). Think abt what other trauma could have been caused, what doubts and fears could have slowly crept it's way to her heart and head (I am a sucker for long-lasting doubts that develop over time) and anything you can even so much as GRASP on. If you look at it and see it as a possibility, try to fit that into her character and add it subtly in different places (as subtext or a creative pattern, wordplay, doesn't rlly matter as long as it's not openly stated bc, remember, the key thing to these types of characters is mystery).

For example, a fear of failure can stem into anxiety before the character has even lost smth later in their life. They probably get rlly anxious when evaluating smth but don't show it much or at all so no one notices. This adds even MORE to the character bc you can build it up after other events. Like once they have failed, they could probably get even more anxious and then develop a bad relationship with the person who beat them (double the points if it was a friend). You could build all that up and turn it super toxic instead of jumping right to the healing. It makes it more interesting, doesn't it? Plus, reevaluating almost everything including world views after 1 loss is...kind of hard to believe even with anxiety (no offense)

Adding a lot of little problems and thinking abt how Luja's behaviour can impact other characters helps a terrible lot if ur doing most of the story from her POV. Especially since she's probably the most relatable character (from what I've heard anyway). I have a certain saying... it goes like, "It's better to have a relatable and connecting character than one with a problem that is too big for normal people to fathom."

I like characters with heart-wrenching problems that I would never be able to relate to (take maybe Shigaraki as an example ig?) But my favourite are the ones that make me feel as tho I made a real connection

Also, I would like to say...if ur looking to progress her character even further, I would debate on whether it's the complete end to the novel or if there'll be a second part. If it's a second part, keep some of Luja's issues. Make her get better but not completely "YAY, I AM DONE BEING TORMENTED". If it's the end of the novel/series/etc., make it so that she's resolved most of most of her issues. They don't have to be completely gone but they have to be a lot better compared to how they started. And how i would work that out is a mind map but knowing ur a scatterbrain...lets talk it out where everything is all over the place

Luja's main thing is to gain confidence in herself and be finally ok with losing, right? If you ask me, that's a tough one but not impossible. I think to get her from point A to point B is to put up a bunch of events like:

Get her super anxious when doing smth

Lose to *insert person*

Have a breakdown and over think on what she could have done better (on the project or whatever she lost at)

Get even more anxious and totally mess up the next thing

Lose once again (double points if it's the same person as last time)

Overthinking abt how she's not good enough

F i g h t i n g f r i e n d s c o z d r a m a

"YoU'rE nEvEr GoNnA gEt BeTtEr If YoU kEeP tHiNkInG aBoUt YoUrSeLf"

Over think abt no. 8 bc out of options and ideas and ✨a n x i e t y✨

Try listening to others more and become b e t t e r

Win smth (bc creator forbid 3 losses in a row to start depression)

Lose again (there is gonna be a bit of back and forth but is necessary for development)

"I tHoUgHt I wAs FiNaLlY dOiNg SoMeThInG rIgHt AnD nOw LoOk"

"Losing is not th3 3nd of th3 fucking world, you lunatic"

"WELL, IT IS TO ME, BITCH"

*insert psychology somehow idk*

Another loss

"I'm angry...but I'm ok"

Note that idk where bullying would come in and these are only how I would think it to go-

A character like this isn't rlly my strong suit when it comes to them resolving their problems but they are fun to write and think abt-

................................did I just give you advice on how to traumatize? I-

[transsexualhamlet]

the many sins of tokyo ghoul :re

or: 13 reasons why :re is fucking terrible not clickbait

Disclaimer: I think no matter how long this post gets I’m missing something, so let’s just outline the worst ones. And I mean to be transparent, the only reason I actually read :re was so I could make this post... (and bc i wanted to see the what, five panels of hide) Well, I couldn’t stand hating it without evidence beyond hearsay and General Vibes. But I knew it was gonna be bad, I knew it was going to ruin me jesus christ. Obviously I’m not hating on people that like it, and I don’t think there’s anything wrong with genuinely enjoying it (I do genuinely enjoy parts of it, and by parts i mean chapters 1-50 with exceptions and 75) I think it’s wonderful if you can derive joy from it (lmao) but I can say that through my lens in life, there’s so much fucking wrong with this goddamn fucking piece of shit manga and I feel the need to yell about it because i am ✨autism✨ so let’s get going (this is r e a l l y long just a warning)

tl;dr Ishida stay in your fucking lane

1. Transphobia and Homophobia:

alright here we are first off with the big one and if I had to choose, one of Ishida’s greatest sins here. It’s quite unusual in mangas like these to have any sort of representation for such things in and of itself, and yeah of course that annoys me, but having no represntation at all is like so much better than getting actively harmful representation. Most manga that aren’t specifically about those things shy away from those topics, and it’s tiring but it’s normal. You wouldn’t want a mangaka to try to write about something like that without experience or informed opinions. So I say if you can’t write something correct, just don’t write something like that in at all. Ishida clearly,,, does not get this.

And it’s not just the case of Mutsuki, who, well, gets it bad enough, there are three full fucking trans characters Ishida made like, just to shit on. 

Big Madame- god, made like that specifically to perpetuate the predatory trans woman trope jesus christ is Ishida friends with JK fuckface Rowling. Ah yes the ugly, human trafficking, predatory, pedophilic killer that tried to make their male child more feminine? Has a dick. Really? Could you be a single bit more transparent about your fucking agenda here? I really don’t have to say much here.

Kanae von Fuckwald- Technically Ishida says here that basically this bitch was just like??? Pretending to be a guy for years just to what?? I don’t even know?? Get together with Tsukiyama? Cause he’s fucking gay or something? I don’t even get it but like i read this post yesterday and that’s a whole ass thermian argument. It’s like “oh well this is fine because well this person’s not actually trans and therefore the representation thing doesn’t apply”... it’s useless. You created the character that way and you made it intentionally to for whatever way promote this idea that people would “pretend” to be a different gender and that eventually they’ll realize that it’s a “lie” and they never really wanted it. This is what you’re saying about the real people who are,,, actually trans? Jesus christ. Also thinking that a twink like that would be trans? God yeah trans guys can be feminine but buddy that’s clearly not what you’re going for here.

And of course, Mutsuki- There’s just... so much wrong here. I mean like. Before we even get into anything about his character and what they did to him let me just discuss his entire design. Buddy like if you had to choose one person in that show to be trans that’s the least likely one. Ah yes, the feminine one. With the androgynous haircut and the shy disposition and the physical weakness compared to the others. God that’s like, a fujoshi’s take on ao3 of what character should be trans. As much as yeah of course, trans guys can be feminine, they are in no way obligated to be such and you shouldn’t make them more so to be more “believably” so. Ask any actual trans person ever. A character like that is just perpetuating the notion of trans guys being inherently more feminine or trying to pretend to be otherwise.ThEn, of course, there’s the ridiculous sexualization, infantilization and fetishization of this character, going through a thousand plot hurdles to make him constantly stripped, put in girls clothing, chased by perverts, assaulted, ET FUCKING CETERA. Give him a fUCKING BREAK. Creating this character the way he’s portrayed in canon (including so called backstory of murdering parents because of sexual and physical abuse) is perpetuating a notion that someone would be a trans guy because of internalized misogyny and/or trauma instead of because they’re just... a guy. It’s just it’s just it’s just Really bad. Plus taking his character, demonizing him and making him like, supposedly love haise (which i Really hate for a thousand reasons, god that’s like, a parent and child type relationship they have there not romantic,,, god,,,) try to like fucking murder touka and stop seeing sense, and then just... return him to being infantalized. God. Jesus christ fucking goddamn it I love Mutsuki and he deserves better.

Oh yeah and then the homophobia, this one’s smaller because... most of the trans people are here to go “it’s gay... wait it’s not Really gay so it’s ok” but I would like to leave a small note here for all the gay characters who got thrown under the bus not just in re but in the original, like, you know, Nico and shit? I really do not know shit about Nico but all the things about Jason? God if I had a thing for one person that you shouldn’t try to portray as representation it’s Jason. IDK what’s up with him and Naki but god it wasn’t healthy. (i’d like to say here that i love naki and i think naki deserves the world but honey there are better heroes than yamori) Anyway yeah I think that’s also bullshit and Ishida should stay in his fucking lane. (or her i guess, i just feel like it’s probably a guy bc of just... so much sexism)

Ok, now that we have the big one out of the way-

2. The mishandling of portrayals of various mental illnesses:

I’m not an expert on this one like I can say about the gays TM but just like in general, the whole manga’s very messy and portrays a lot of gritty stuff, and Ishida clearly attempts to throw in some mental illness for fun, but god fUcking damn it they’re bad. I couldn’t really even give you examples bc it’s pretty widespread and i’m stupid, but it was really like trump throwing paper towels “and you get a demonization, and you get an infantalization, and you get a butchered character, and you get a fetishization-”

3. Ishida having no fucking clue how science works

This particular factoid led me to have a very hard time reading this manga because it went from being about like, yknow, torture and fights and crying and stuff to weird experimentation bullshit and mutated whatever and everyone’s a hybrid now I guess. When I heard this thing about the quinxes, I thought that made no sense, because I was like “yeah but wait,,, how tf does that work didn’t Ishida say earlier that kagune literally were fueled by human meat isn’t that like the entire point the ccg is against?” and then Ishida’s explanation of how they’re not just exactly like Kaneki is that “oh yeah well there’s like, metal around it, so it’s different.” OH YEAH OK THAT MAKES PERFECT SENSE NOW, THANKS.

The thing is... there’s no way of actually regulating that. You couldn’t move a kagune unless it was attached to your cells, and if it’s attached man, it’s attached and it’s part of you. Also yelling “frame two” won’t like make it any bigger lmao, either you’re gonna have it based on theoretical science in this universe or you’re going to have a dumb supernatural magic pokemon fight deal. The whole thing makes no sense. The science issue isn’t just about this either, it’s also about how the entire thing basically undermines the point of the whole story. When you blur the lines between human and ghoul with little to no real rules or basis in real science, every rule kind of just becomes cheap plot convenience.

So the Quinxes can eat human food unless they use their kagune too much, alright, but Kaneki couldn’t eat human food before he’d even ever used his though the only difference between their bodies was this,,, theoretical metal thing?? And Haise... was never really covered, before he went black hair emo bastard and like vored Eto, did he eat human food like the rest of the CCG? He certainly cooked it. And the squad that lived with him wasn’t aware he was a ghoul until he pulled out the kagune. So I’d assume so, but then how could he have a kagune, how could he survive when his body still was like that?

Is it the RC suppressents? Then couldn’t he just have taken those and lived as a human the entire time? Is that all he fucking needed, is that the only difference between human and ghoul? It doesn’t make sense and the rules are bent so much they don’t function anymore. Ishida like write down your rules somewhere even if they’re bullshit, they shouldn’t contradict each other.

Damn man I’m not even going to go into the dumbass rules of the half humans or the special fast aging thing or the fucking,,, folded up cells deal,,, or the Imagination Kagune, or the fucking,,, Dragon, or the zombie ghoul apocalypse or the “whole new species made of just kagune” i don’t even have the time it is fucking ridiculous and I can’t even with it. Physics. Laws of physics. If not biology, at least follow physics Ishida??? Please???? And if you’re not you need to do that consistently??

4. character glow ups actually being character glow downs 

(with the exception of nishiki, he baby now, and akira, i think her development was valid af)

God, this one gets me every time. Touka was cool. Touka was fucking badass, she had a complex character with many motivations and wants, and in the original having her eventually kind of soften bc of Kaneki is valid. But taking her and turning her into like literally nothing but Pretty Housewife Yearning For Husband At War? God, kill me. She’s a strong person. She can like Kaneki without the guy being her only character trait. Also uh, Touka and Kaneki being a couple was valid before this change, now I honestly can’t stomach it. Like they were the kind of “both bisexual” m/f couple that we stan. No longer I guess.

She’s the most egregious example, but I’d also like to point out Juuzou, not everything they changed about him is bad, honestly we fucking stan his knife legs, but he’s kind of like a rip off L now? You got rid of his ~unhinged~, we do not stan. I’m on the fence about him bc i think that kind of is a valid transition to adulthood and I guess he’s grown up, but again, why change his fucking hair color? What is the explanation for this?

Also Hinami. I mean, I don’t really care about her a lot in general, but it’s weird to see her as like an adult when Ayato emo boy looks like exactly the fucking same and they’re like,,, supposedly the same age. 

There are definitely more I’m missing here. Honestly, Hide was valid. God him with his fucking burlap sack. With a fucking lenny face on it. I can’t with him. That’s so Hide. But there were some bad ones.

5. one hair color change was my limit, enough said

black white black and white black white more white god bitch get some variety

6. Showing me great new characters and then promptly ruining them

And you can tell this one’s about quinx squad, my favorite bastard children. God, I love them. They’re the only good things about Re other than Hide and Haise and like everything else, Ishida took them and went “what if i *guts*” god why. I love these kids with all my heart. Why. Why. Why did you do that to Mutsuki. Why as soon as Haise isn’t in the room they all get themselves tangled up with pedos. Why they gotta break up the squad. Why make all of them lose all the wholesomeness and lessons they learned from Haise. Why do you ruin them all with weird unreciprocated random crushes on each other when they’re like basically siblings. Why fuckinG KILL SHIRAZU HE IS THE APPOINTED CHIEF DUMBASS OF THE SQUAD WHY HIM. WHY. WITH SO LITTLE IMPACT. YOU COULD FUCKING MISS IT SO EASILY. THAT’S NOT RIGHT. AND KANEKI JUST FUCKING ABANDONS THEM BC HE HAS HIS MEMORIES AGAIN N O ? NO ACTUALLY NO.

7. the casual racism and sexism :)

i just :) can you stop having girls constantly bring themselves down for being female :) and making them be oversexualized, less full characters :) always in some way connected to a guy :) more weak and hurt more often :) my fucking god :) also yeah it’s way less prevalent but there were a few racist caricatures thrown in there for taste if you don’t know how to draw lips just don’t

8. Ishida being too much of a pissbaby for a real death scene

Basically: undermining the impact of “deaths” fom the first series while also randomly and badly killing off new characters. Oh that character that died in the original in a really cinematic way that made you cry and think about the meaning of life and how beautifully tragic this story was? Oh lol they’re not Actually dead. (x10) Doing that with Hide (at least in the manga, not the anime, god root A really did it with him but we’re not talking about that) was valid, seeing as I love him your honor and in the manga one of the lessons that his character hinges on was like in chapter 75 to live on instead of giving up even if it hurts and all that... (this is obviously kind of the opposite from root A where his character was like more about sacrificing for kaneki since kaneki had already done so much, i think both are valid but we’re Talking About The Manga) he was done well. That was right (even though i think they should have done More of it) but there were so many characters this kind of thing was done to without the proper adjustment in the handling of the messages given here. 

Like with Koma and Irimi, who,,, honestly should have stayed dead because their entire character arc kinda ended there and showed how they were sorry for their actions and this was how they were making it up. And then they just like... come back. And fight more. Really? This wasn’t the only instance either, same deal with Shinohara (though him coming back made me cry) it like, kind of undermines it if you’re going to have Juuzou derive his character development from that. Either Juuzou gets to keep his unhinged and his dad, or he loses his dad for real and he also grows up. God guys choose. What’s the message you’re playing here. (at least they kept Yoshimura dead, his death made me cry and I would have stabbed something if it wasn’t real, probably Ishida.) And even with Kaneki himself, god, if he can’t die from being stabbed straight through the fucking eye, what COULD kill him? It really diminishes the anxiety you feel about “omg is this person gonna die i want them to be ok” if they basically evade the laws of physics and their own previous character arcs 70 times. I’m definitely forgetting more of the same, Ishida can’t write a good death, he needed the anime writers to do it for him.

9. Kaneki. Just. Kaneki. 

God they fucking butchered this man. I could go on about his character is weird and confusing in the manga from the beginning, but we’re focusing on mostly all his weird :re character development, the bad handling of Haise and his memories, and all his iterations.

Before I read :re, what I could glean from fanart and the occasional fic that wasn’t tagged properly was really confusing and kind of a mixed bag. I knew Haise was Kaneki but without his memories, now in the ccg trying to be a pacifist and going :DDDDD a lot yknow. And what I came up with in my own mind for that change was a deal of (this makes more sense with the anime canon tbh, the manga honestly doesn’t do any of this well) like Kaneki after The Shit Went Down With Hide (whichever canon you’d like to interpret that as) he basically realized that he really couldn’t be a ghoul, he didn’t want to be, he didn’t want to hurt people and he wanted to be happy and make other people happy instead of what he thought was right before (trying to fight to protect others on his own etc) because that mentality had gotten people he loved hurt, and well subconsciously I guess that kind of factored into his development into Haise and maybe caused his memory loss (along with the, yknow, shanked eye.) So when I started to read it that kind of checked out, this is what he’s trying so hard to be now. But then this whole bullshit of the whole other like, 37 different versions of kaneki complicated things. 

Haise was scared that when he got his memories back he would cease to be, well, Haise, and he would just like revert back to what he was before everything. Which I can understand him being scared of and I think was a good point in the plot for him to worry about that, but I was like “oh honey don’t worry that’s not how it works” and was kind of vying for him to eventually get his memories back, come to terms with the fact that those were his memories, he did do those things, he was half a ghoul, and maybe come back to his original fight of wanting to bring the humans and ghouls together, still caring about his human people in the ccg and all. That development was real, and it wouldn’t just go away if he got his memories back, he learned a lot and grew a lot and he has a different outlook on life now. Right?

Fucking wrong I guess. Dude gets his memories back (very ambiguously, it was really hard to tell when that even happened tbh) and like. Turns into a flaming ass looking like ebony darkness dementia raven way. Haise gone. Fucking completely. No trace left. Doesn’t care about his kids anymore. When he’s done with that and goes white again he’s just Kaneki again and there’s really not enough left of things that like, really wouldn’t go away? He loses the flair? The dumbass? The :D? The Extra? WHY? Why would those things go away? Haise shouldn’t have been right that he would disappear when he got back his memories. That killed me. I love Kaneki and all but H a i s e. He is my b o y. H i m. With his e n e r g y  s h o r t s. And his m o m. And his c o o k i n g. And his k i d s, I l o v e him. And Ishida doesn’t seem to realize that they’re... literally the same person. Haise isn’t just some stupid bastard occupying Kaneki’s body, he’s a valid part of Kaneki himself and to be honest, peak Kaneki. Should have stayed that way. Would have been great for Hide tbh. Not just having him pretty much revert to his old self, but basically respond equally to both names and balance the world between human and ghoul. I would have loved that. What happened for real? It doesn’t make sense and it breaks my heart.

Some people on the interwebz try to kind of even that whole deal out by trying to say he like, has DID, which although is obviously a valid thing, like, so does not apply to him. God I’m like so not an expert on this but I feel like it’s not that hard to tell. His 87 little Kanekis in his head aren’t separate personas, they’re metaphorical representations of his past morals, experiences, and ideologies that all conflict. Again Haise here is peak conflict because when he gets his memories back, he has all these different conflicting ideas that were all previously separate. They’re all him. Tortured Kaneki constantly yelling at him in Jason’s chamber is basically again, a metaphor for how he’s denying his ghoulhood and the trauma that he’s been dealt. It’s not that this dude still exists just the way he is ready to show up at any moment lmao. Ishida kind of dealt with that badly too because Haise really said

after his memories happened so I can see why people might, but it’s... not right, and it’s Ishida’s fault about that which is Incorrect

Also just blanket statement, black reaper Kaneki? Fuck him and all he stands for. 0% valid. I can excuse literally every other version of him. But wh y. God he leaves the room and Urie starts misusing his power and getting groomed by a pedo, Saiko is just, left behind and sad, Mutsuki gets captured by a perv and mentally destroyed again, Shirazu dies and the bitch is like like “lol it’s your fault” yeah helpful, die

10. P- the- the porn chapter-

Idk about you but that was so fucking unecessary??? Not even going off of how terribly awkward and weird it was to have it there when the opening was “i’m sad about my best friend who’s gonna get executed what do you do when you’re sad about your best friend” “i simply do not think of him or i might actually just curl up and die” “yo lmao same” “wanna fuck” Like ok um I’m biased bc i’m not straight but I like, really hated that. Even just flipping through the pages as fast as I could to get to the end of it like. God. It’s not a fucking hentai. I’m here for the plot. If you’re not gonna release the director’s cut of kaneki fucking voring hide, i don’t think i need to see 20 pages of straight fucking sex. And if you absolutely must have porn, kaneki is a fucking bottom. That man gets pegged do not try to prove otherwise. You started it out that way god I love how they’re like “oh god wait that looks kind of gay, the woman being dominant, better stop that right now” god Ishida not having a single iota of knowlege about his own characters aND THEN SHE GETS PREGNANT? NO. Excuse me. No. I just. I. Why. This isn’t. A fucking porno. This isn’t tentacle porn i swear oh my god kill me

11. Giving the wrong characters attention

Basically, redeeming characters that should have been redeemed and not going into/discussing characters that should have been redeemed/had more backstory. For example, Tsukiyama can go fucking die. I like, do not even care rich boy. I don’t understand how anyone could think he needed to be redeemed he’s just a gay attention whore who really needs to let this kid get on with his merry fucking life. I don’t care. I literally did not need to read three whole books about his dumbass hangup over eating Kaneki. Kaneki doesn’t fucking want you bitch move on. He didn’t need to be redeemed or seen to be in any way sympathetic, no one wanted it. Same with that bitch ass Furuta, he wasn’t really redeemed but he was given w a y too much time to play out his sob story. God man Rize doesn’t fucking want you. These gross ass simps. I swear.

On the other hand, I kind of liked Eto even though she’s a pile of shit, and I got mad when they didn’t really go into much about her. And you know who could have gotten much more screen time/development? TOUKA. God, I love her and she was just sitting around in the background being straight. Let her have some spicy development. Also obviously, Hide. He was... so underappreciated and underexplained? What happened with him? He didn’t just pick himself off the ground in the sewers and go ‘well i’d better get back to the ccg now’ we have a whole two years which are completely unexplained, most of which he was off mysteriously being involved in things but completely missing the eye of Haise and other major players. Where tf was he? How did he get around? What was he even doing??? I wanna know about that! Not all the characters I hate’s tragic backstories that make me feel 0% more sympathetic towards them :)

12. ARE WE ALL JUST GONNA COLLECTIVELY IGNORE THE WHOLE VORE THING???

Ok like i know i say “the entire reason I read :re was __” but like to be honest this was the turning point, I saw pictures of hide’s vore face and went like

So I was like “god fucking damn it ok, Ishida would you care to explain this to me” *cracks open re*

And then they DIDN’T.

Like. It’s actually laughable how much that entire situation was just glossed over. They gave that maybe like two pages. Like what. I. This manga has more sex scene than no homoing that. They just don’t even bother to. I feel like Ishida had that as a plot point but realized halfway in how it looked (i.e., really fucking gay) and decided that was something that he was just gonna, not deal with. Just act like that’s a completely normal heterosexual bro thing to do. Like of course anywhere would be pretty gay but Kaneki chose his face. His face. Like his face and his wholeass neck and his shoulders and nowhere else. (and assumedly like, his tongue, seeing as how the dude can’t talk... bruh) Dude really said extreme hickey. French kiss to the max. Ishida clearly did realize that generally, you can only get a bitten off face by,,, having your face bitten off, which is just inherently really fucking gay. Like, I’m just at a loss as to how it even makes sense. You wouldn’t think that the skin off his face, and specifically around his mouth, would really be the most nutritious thing to consume? I can get like the shoulders but generally you’d think something like his arm or leg would be 1.less inconvenient, and 2.much more logical and nutritious? But NO, Kaneki was like “you know what i’m gonna do? eat your Face” and hide’s like “lmao sounds cool”

(not to mention, wasn’t there another guy with a vore face somewhere? like that old guy in the ccg with the bigass turtleneck, i wanna know about him) But like... my bro Ishida went “yeah this happened but i’m going to cover it up with speech bubbles and the ends of panels guys they clearly had their socks on” Dude didn’t even TRY to explain otherwise. Like hey man, that’s pretty damn gay, you are kind of at liberty to either tell me why otherwise, or accept those implications and acknowledge them?? It’s really hilarious when you ignore it cause it’s like

kind of

pretty damn

WEAK of you to leave it at that fucking pissbaby

hmmmmmmmmm however could this happen i guess we’ll never know

13. What the fuck was even the plot omg

God I’ve been writing this post for like five hours so like, I’ll keep it short but like it made sense in the original, not to be like an anime fan but the anime made fucking sense (not re i mean like the original) this lore is so fucking stupid god, the horrors of the entire fucking dragon arc bleach my eyes, unresolved plotlines who???? (the whole ‘oh yeah also ur dying of old age’ thing etc, is kaneki like??? still doing that?? or was that randomly resolved with the whole spewing ovary bullshit i’m going to fucking kill myself) and to top it off, good job Ishida at a real fucking cheap ending. 

You gave them. Fake human. Really? They just come up with artificial human at the end. Kind of undermines the entire fucking story my guy. Ah yes throw out our whole plot. That was the whole tragedy. You gotta eat human. The ghouls have to eat human and that’s tragic bc they have to kill people or whatever. Or i guess they fucking don’t well fucking ok. God you could have just had them negotiate a kind of peace where the ghouls can get dead humans and such, there are plenty of them and no one has to kill anyone then, there could be a rule system for it, it would be messy but eventually everyone would be ok with it, and I think that would work a lot better than “quick fix i made some hamburger helper human you can eat it fine” guys wtf. It’s like Ishida started plotting out the ending for re approximately 2 hours before his deadline. Anyway yes I hate re and I love yelling about it thank you for coming to my ted talk.

[rachiesratirementhome]

Hey I was reading that orange article and I think it's really neat so I have a couple questions 1. I've heard peanuts and brussel sprouts have similar bad effects, is this true? 2. Do you have any tips on going into biology while owning rats because I absoultely adore the subject but I don't think I could deal with the animal testing advertised in college, did you encounter this problem and if so would you mind sharing how you dealt/deal with it?

Hey lovely!From what I understand about peanuts, the concern is mostly about aflatoxin from a fungus called aspergillius that in many countries, is quite tightly regulated. If aflatoxin is present, yes it’s an incredibly powerful carcinogen, so I wouldn’t be feeding rats, say, roadside peanuts sold for the purpose of feeding elephants in Thailand (nor eating them myself). Food grade peanuts in Australia/America? Totally screened, very safe. Fatty, but safe. A LOT of the arguments about dried corn are based on the same concern from what I understand, it’s something I’d like to write an article on tbh.I know nothing about brussels sprouts EXCEPT that they’re the exact same species of plant as broccoli/kale/cauliflower etc, just selected to produce more buds on the stem. While I know they’re high in sulfur, I don’t know any reasons why they wouldn’t be rat safe, but I don’t have much for you beyond that.As for biology… Hoo boy yeah so the way I dealt with this problem was by avoiding it. BUT that’s not necessarily what I’d advise. I originally planned to go into Veterinary, but chickened out on the basis that I didn’t think I was emotionally capable of doing the job. Now I run the rescue, I know I can, but that’s hindsight. So I went into biology, after a short stint in Geology. I actually went into entomology to begin with because I love invertebrates and insects, but my irrational phobia of ants made that comically implausible (I love the little guys, they’ve got a great work ethic, they’ve very cool, and if they touch me I get full body goosebumps and want to throw up). But I knew I wanted a research job. Fieldwork wasn’t jiving with several chronic health/chronic pain issues I have, and I needed something I could flex my brain and work around my stupid old lady body with. But lab work on animals turned my stomach, especially speaking to a few colleagues who worked in mutagenesis. Fascinating work that saves lives, but not something that would make me happy. So I thought ‘fuck it, plants don’t cry when you cut them’ and went into plant science! Spent a few years in a plant genetic engineering lab, and a couple in an algae lab, accidentally went sort of chemical engineery developing a nanofilter, and then just shy of completing my honours, health kicked my ass and I’ve spent the last couple of years running the rescue.If I had to give advice on dealing with animal testing, it’s that if you can’t justify to yourself the work you do, you’re going to struggle. If you genuinely believe that what you’re doing is the right thing to do by your ethics, you’re stronger than you think, and you’ll get there. For me, with vet stuff, I didn’t fully comprehend that euthanasia was a tool used when quality of life left no better option, that it’s just a humane act. While I used to say “i could never put down someone’s puppy” I now know if that were the option left on the table, I think I could. I’d hate it, but no vet likes that part of the job.The other bit of advice is that people who do testing on rats generally aren’t permitted to have pet rats at home - it’s a biosecurity risk for the rattery and the research. I’m in Australia where we don’t have the diseases the states have, and even so one of our volunteers can only visit 48 hours out from her next work day.In a practical sense, there are SO MANY jobs in animal bio that aren’t animal testing and I think you’ll be totally fine, but if it’s animal testing you want: email your lecturers. Email the lab heads. Tell them you’re steering towards a career in the field and ask them to show you around or talk to you about their research. Not only will they be happy to if they can find the time, that kind of thing really stands out when you’re chasing an honours position later, or when the lecturers are asking students to do paid tutor work.Hope that helps somewhat!Rachie

[medea10]

Medea Rambles...It’s Reality

I would really love to put up a review today. Really, I would. And I would love to talk about the latest Pokemon episode, really I would...But, I'm not in the mood. Because of certain events, I'm not in any mood for my usual Sunday shenanigans.

Whenever I pick up my phone and see that damned CNN Alert message, I think one of three things has happened.

1. Trump said or did something incredibly stupid, illegal, or dickheadishly stupid.

2. A celebrity from my childhood died.

3. A massacre has occurred and was caused by gun violence.

And in the past seven days, that third option has come up more often than not. Now, by no means am I fully against guns. It's not my thing, if you like hunting, by all means. If you feel you need it for protection, I don't give a flying fig. However, there are certain guns that really shouldn't be in the hands of anyone. Period! And each time I hear about what a gunman uses, it's usually an AK or an AR-15 or some other monstrosity that really shouldn't be in the hands of (what it seems like) very unstable men. And in a lot of these massacres including the last three prominent tragedies, these very unstable men are under the age of 25.

That is fucking frightening.

Why would anyone want to go to an open place like a school, a Walmart, a gay nightclub, a concert on the Vegas strip, a church, a mosque, a synagogue, a local pub, a college campus, or a garlic festival to shoot up innocent people?

Oh yeah, all of these places have been shot up in the last couple of years. And again I need to say, THREE OF THESE HAPPENED JUST THIS WEEK ALONE!

I remember being in middle school when the Columbine shooting happened and in shock over what I was witnessing. Now it’s by no means the first gun massacre in our country and sure as fuck wasn’t the last. But the mere fact that this was a high school and these were students being slaughtered raised a lot of eyebrows. Now not much action was taken at the time, but there were plenty of back-and-forths over who was to blame for this. Being in middle school, they pretty much blamed all the things I liked including video games, South Park, and Marilyn Manson. Seriously, just because Dylan and Eric listened to Manson, all Manson listeners were going to go on a killing rampage? Fuck you then and fuck you now!

Then I remember 12 years ago with Virginia Tech and freaking out because, hey, I’m a college student. Who’s to say UNM wouldn’t end up on the national news one day because of a tragedy involving gun violence? Then again, I’m just a paranoid, autistic person and I worry over everything.

But then it wouldn’t just be at a school...it would be in places you wouldn’t expect. A strip mall in Arizona. A theater in Aurora, Colorado. And even an elementary school in Connecticut.

Yes, I have to talk about Sandy Hook! Twenty 1st graders and their educators were gunned down. That should have been the final straw in taking some freakin’ action! These were six and seven year olds going to school. AND RIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMAS FOR CORN SAKE! Because of this, my cousin has a quiet room in his home where his daughter used to play and sleep.

Yeah, not-so fun fact about Medea. I have a relation to one of the victims in Sandy Hook.

So imagine my disgust with pukes like Alex Jones attacking these families, calling them out for faking their children deaths. Alex Jones can just drop from the face of the earth and I’ll sleep like a baby at night. But like with Columbine, not much action was done. Even though President Obama tried, he couldn’t get Congress and Senate to pass any kind of gun regulation laws.

I would like to blame it on the fact that both the house and senate were Republican-led at the time and whatever the black president wanted to happen, they told him to sit and spin because fuck your needs! Yeah, I want to say that they’re all a bunch of racist crackers, but most of them are still kinda lobbyed by the NRA. And when I say kinda, I mean, these guys are willing to lick boots for the NRA and screw the safety of the people.

So, no gun regulations happen and more tragedies continue happening. It wasn’t really until the San Bernadino tragedy that lawmakers wanted to do something. But not about gun regulation! No, because in that particular tragedy, the people causing the mayhem were part of ISIS (or so they claim). If the shooter is someone from a different place other than the U.S., they hate us for our freedom and this is terrorism. But if a white guy from Ohio does it, it’s just a sad day in America.

Now there are many of factors to these killers. Mental health is a big factor played in many of these tragedies. Yes, that is a biggie in general. Because people suffering from mental illness are statistically more likely to be a victim of gun violence than to commit one. People only bring up mental illness if the shooter is a white, American-born boy and soon enough, they’ll drop the subject of helping folks with this problem. How about we talk about gun regulation?! Have weapons of war off the streets and out of our homes! No one needs guns that can turn a body into swiss cheese in a matter of seconds given to a regular joe. Oh and once again, nothing happens. Even after we get some of the worst shootings after Sandy Hook! Because while 20 1st graders being gunned down in a classroom was pretty fucked up, we ended up with more obscene tragedies.

Just to name a few, the Pulse Night Club shooting in Orlando, FL where 49 people lost their lives (during Pride Month no less), an outdoor concert on the Las Vegas strip where 58 people died, and another high school shooting in Parkland, FL where 17 students lost their lives. At least with the last shooting I mentioned, the surviving students had ENOUGH and demanded action. In some ways, change did happen. We have a new generation ask the questions my generation didn’t and the generations before ignored it all.

With the swearing-in of a new Congress in January (the first time it was Democratic majority since 2010), the first issue they took up was on gun regulation. And it passed the house! The only problem is that the leader of the senate has refused to let ANY of these bills pass. He just let’s it die. And then you have that same sonuvabitch send out thoughts and prayers? The Congress is trying to do something so we wouldn’t have to go through these horrible tragedies time and time again! Fuck you Mitch! No seriously, fuck you and shove those thoughts and prayers up your ass because we know what you’re all about! We saw you during the days of Sandy Hook!

And so we continue with this wave of gun tragedies! Only now, a lot of these recent shootings seem to have a certain, controversial thing in common. All of them either liked Donald Trump or praised his rhetoric. I know I shouldn’t tie any tragedy to any serving president. I didn’t blame Clinton for Columbine. I didn’t blame Bush for Virginia Tech. And I never blamed Obama for Aurora, Phoenix, or Sandy Hook. But Donald Trump is a whole ‘nother level of blame.

It’s safe to say we’ve NEVER had a president quite like this. Someone who would rile up his supporters in some frightening ways. I don’t want to repeat ANYTHING of what this fool says. He carefully words his statements to his base and watch these fringey people go off the deep-end. When you have a president blaming Mexicans, banning Muslims, and criticizing African-Americans, there’s a lot of toxicity to absorb. And I am sick of it!

A lot tragedies in the past two years have had the essence of Trump lingering around it. The man who sent bombs to Trump’s enemies last fall was a staunch Trump supporter. The man who shot up a Jewish synagogue last year, also believed in Trump’s words. As did the Parkland shooter! Oh, let’s not forget the man who shot up the mosque in New Zealand earlier this year, he believed in Trump too. And same with the two of the three shootings that has happened in the last 7 days. People trying to enjoy themselves as they eat garlic-flavored foodstuffs in Gilroy and families buying things they need for the upcoming school year in a Walmart in El Paso...all of them taken out by white supremacists guided by words of a lunatic leader who believes black and brown people are the enemy.

His words are not helping. His words are damaging.

I know gun violence has been a major issue way before Donald Trump became president. But this recent onslaught of violence is too much to bear. If he was a decent person, he would put an end to his disturbing rhetoric. No more of these “Go back to where you came from” tweets. That means calling out white supremacy when you see it! And cut the shit about good guys on both sides! When you have one side marching and shouting, “Jews Will Not Replace Us” and the other side finding offense to those words, this shouldn’t be a fucking debate!

This country needs to fucking change and change now. Whether it’s through legislation, replacing political representatives with people willing to give a damn, or overthrowing a dictator. Do it and do it now!

Sorry for this rant, but...I’m just tired of this happening over and over again. I’m almost to the point of being numb by these tragedies. And that shouldn’t happen.

[chaniters]

AU Fanfic Fallen-Hero Ranger Adventures. 1

Starting another Fanfic because of reasons.

This takes place in an AU (which is basically the end of my first fic)

Basically, Sidestep and Charge are together, Sidestep is trying to become a full ranger, and is no longer hunted by the government.

Midnight Terror

Years ago. Late night. Somewhere in the Lacandon Rainforest.

Hurried steps took him right to the very edge of the chasm.

The intense rain had made visibility a luxury and finding an escape route a guessing game

A game that he was clearly loosing. Crossing was impossible.

"Fuck!... Fuck Fuck fuck! Is this a joke?!"

But rain wouldn't compromise and he couldn't find a way across.

He had wrongly assumed the carnivore minds would stop searching for him once they consumed the bodies of his brothers.

He had been wrong. They had surely counted them, found one was missing, and reassumed the hunt. He had only gained some advantage, that was thinning quickly. He could sense them approaching faster than he could ever fathom.

Only a choice now. Left.. or right. Life or death.

Left! He ran as fast as he could. There seemed to be no end to the chasm. no way to cross. The rain gave the ground a muddy, disgusting texture. He looked at the bottom. No. If he tried to climb down, he would slip and break his spine on the long fall.

So he kept running.

A guttural howl. They could speak, he knew that. They just chose not to. However did the Catastrofiend create his demons, they hadn't been able to find out before she had found them instead. And she also had chosen not to speak.

Something in the distance... he could see... ropes. Crossing the chasm.

Rotten boards and ropes... remains of a bridge, still dangling over the chasm.

This path was his doom or his salvation, but that wasn't for him to decide. He could only try and follow it.

His mind couldn't recall a moment where he had been more afraid. He had cheated death many times before, but ...

He crossed as fast as he could. Keeping the balance, stepping on ropes, on dangling boards that gave in as he stepped on them, on thin air when his balance failed. He was certain he would fall and break every bone at the bottom, yet he somehow managed to reach the other side.

He took his knife and cut the dangling ropes loose, letting the whole thing fall down. That could gain him some time at least.

The operative had memorized all maps regarding this operation. That was his main task. His telepathic training wasn't as advanced as the rest of the team, so he would help bringing his knowledge of the area to their mind link.

Thanks to it, he had an approximate idea of where the military base was...

He expanded his mind, looking for threats. Soon enough, the Minds were on his sights... and they were heading straight for the bridge.

"Fuck!" He ran faster. He felt, struggled into the mud, stood up and kept running. He had cut off the bridge but he knew the speed those things could achieve. They would cross the chasm.. climb it down and up again... And fall on him like wolves.

"FUCK!" he screamed while running. It was futile, they'd catch up with him before he could...

...

The minds went pass the bridge without even stopping and headed east. They were going to cross the chasm some other way.

He started running again. He understood. They were not after him.  

.................................

He reached the base two days later. He had hurried as much as he could.

But by them there were no officers to report to, no scientists to take him back, no drugs to put him to sleep, no psychics to erase his trauma and leave him battle ready once more...

Piles of corpses... he looked for survivors.

They had devoured most of the soldiers and left the rest to rot. He had cheated death many times before, but he would have taken any of those deaths before the one the Catastrofiend liked to inflict.

After examining the third pile, and nearly walking away, he sensed a mind regain consciousness. He returned, and found someone alive. He was breathing. But the wounds were far too severe. Dying. Dying, and not giving him more instructions, or orders of any kind.

A young man. He was suffering. There was no way to help him. So he did what he had been trained to do. Put an end to the suffering. A single cut.

His eyes looked at him in understanding as he did it. His mind was afraid, but it relaxed for a few minutes once the pain was gone... and then.. there was nothing.

Drenched by the rain, sweat and blood, he let go of the dead. There was no one else. He was the only survivor.

He wandered a few steps towards the shattered tents, then fell on his knees and screamed. But only the dead could hear him. ..........................................

Present day.

"Hey!" Ortega shook him lightly. "It's just a nightmare"

"Wha...?" Cyrus woke up in a daze and just stared at Ortega, startled for a few seconds, until it all came back to him. He wasn't in a jungle. He was in the Ranger's Headquarters. And he was in Ortega's room.

"Nightmare" Ortega repeated.

"Oh." Cyrus managed to acknowledge. "Sorry" He felt guilty. He had so many of these, and he wouldn't let Ortega sleep.

Sleeping pills helped, but he didn't always take them, it messed his telepathy and gave him headaches afterwards. And sleeping pills couldn't cure PTSD anyways.

Ortega felt he needed to wake him up every time, which was really not an easy thing to do when he had one of the bad ones, so it would take a good 10 minutes of his sleep time trying to wake him, and then there was no way to assure he wouldn't have another one the moment he shut his eyes.

"It's ok" he said. "How do you feel?"

Cyrus pondered on the question for a split-second. "I'm alright. It's nothing"

"Do you want to write it down?"

"No.. just go back to sleep Ricardo"

"But..."

"I'll go get something from the fridge, read an article or something and then go back to my room and sleep. Don't worry"

"But..."

But Cyrus just gave him a pat on the shoulder, and quickly made for the corridor. He could tell Ortega to stop mothering him but that would only lead to mortifying the both of them further. Ortega was just doing with they had discussed in therapy to the letter and none of this was his fault.

He had PTSD that had gone untreated for his entire lifetime until last year. The more he understood therapy, the more he got used to the idea that nightmares were going to be part of his life (Dream-life?), and no amount of discussing their hidden meanings with the shrink was going to make them go away.

Of course he would still do it.. but he didn't really hope for improvement in that front anymore.

He made a beeline for the fridge, and as he laid a hand on the cold trove of treasure, he froze. There was another mind, a few steps from him, fixed on his same prize. They couldn't see each other in the cover of darkness, but it was there...

"So... it seems we meet again" he let out.

He heard an immediate stumble.

"Not again! I swear you'r trying to kill me..."

"Sorry Chen.. seems i beat you to the fridge this time. What shall it be?"

Steel sighed. "I think there are some pizza leftovers."

"Yes. You get that, i'll make myself a sandwich." He said, passing two slices to Chen. He also passed him a beer before he asked.. because.. telepathy.

"Couldn't sleep either?" Chen asked, taking the added beer without a word.

"Nope."

"What was it this time?"

"Back at the jungles escaping the Catastrofiend's creeps”

“That’s when you first broke out from the Special Directive right?”

“Yes...  Ortega woke me up. You?"

"The attack a the embassy all over. Woke up on my own. Always do"

"Shit."

"Same to you."

"Thanks."

They sat on the couch, fiddling with their smartphones. This had become a sort of routine. Eventually, they'd go back to sleep, after calming their nerves a bit. Oddly enough it had actually made him closer to Chen than ever before.

"How are you?" Chen asked. It was weird, but Cyrus was feeling more comfortable with him asking lately.

"You really want to know ?"He smiled lightly

"Yup."

"I... I don't know. I feel like i'm not getting better. And then we argue... and I apologize. And he feels guilty for all the shit I've been trough.. and I tell him it's not his fault... And then i keep thinking that i'm going to fuck it up for real at some point."

"Then don't fuck it up"

"Oh wow thanks for the sage advice" Cyrus cracked.

"Happy to oblige" Chen said extending a his beer in his general direction with a smile.

"I'm trying."

"That's all he asks. Don't stop."

"I won't.... Anyways, how about you?"

"Too much stress. The mayor's a... -ahem- ... major pain in my ass."

"Ha... You know, if you had let me carry on my master-plan further, he wouldn't be in office"

"What, you feel like wearing that clown villain costume again? I don't see anyone stopping you.."

"Sorry, too late... " he held his hand to Chen "That ship has sailed... I'm a glorious honorary hero these days. Fuck me."

"You really should tell that to Ortega"

"Fell right into that one didn't I..."

"Yes. Anyways, you you could always retire" Chen grinned.

"Like anyone's going to fall for that one again."

"Hell no. So.. did you pass the physicals?"

"Yeah. My government-issue body regenerated just on time for that. Psych tests... i have no idea. I had to do a written test, they don't trust sending an examiner on the same room"

"I'll call them and have them e-mail me the results tomorrow." Honorary member status was not regulated, tough no one had really objected it so far. Becoming a regular ranger member required a background check, a psych test and a physical test.

"Thanks... Oh and.. uh.. Chen.. If I don't pass.. can you..." Cyrus started, a bit insecure

"I'll sugar-coat it sure. But stop being so worried. This isn’t a race”

"You know how he gets when he sees no progress"

"I know..." Cyrus had taken the test twice now, and Ortega thought it had only been once.

They stayed silent for a few minutes.

"Question." Steel spoke after a while.

"Yes?"

"Why the Catastrofiend? You did get closure on that nut-job, you shot his head off"

He shrugged “No idea . It's just another stupid night terror"

Steel nodded.

Cyrus finally stood up

"Want me to go to the meeting with you tomorrow? I can wave my big "Telepath pariah" sign and scare out the political creeps away just by standing next to you. It's my new superpower"

"You know I can't say no to that..."

"It's a date then" Cyrus washed his plate then head back to his own room.

Steel stayed for a while longer, wondering when exactly had he really befriended Sidestep. Sans the mystery, he had turned out to be a really ok person...

_________________________

My Fanfics: https://chaniters.tumblr.com/post/181692759294/my-fanfiction-for-fallen-hero

DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fan fiction using characters and the setting of the Fallen Hero: Rebirth and upcoming Fallen Hero: Retribution games written by Malin Riden. I do not claim ownership of any characters from the Fallen Hero wold. These stories are a work of my imagination, and I do not ascribe them to the official story canon. These works are intended for entertainment outside the official storyline owned by the author. I am not profiting financially from the creation of these stories, and thank the author for her wonderful game/s, without which these works would not exist.

[iamartemisday]

Jane Foster Week Day Two

A/N: Loosely based on this post.

.02 Associated Quote

Science never solves a problem without creating ten more. -George Bernard Shaw

Bucky would never forget the first time he met Jane Foster.

It was sometime after their climactic battle against Thanos for the fate of the universe. The mad titan was dead. Bucky had a new arm and full control of his mind. Him and Steve were picking up the pieces of their friendship/romance/whatever you called random fucking these days. All in all, things were okay.

They had a place on Long Island and went upstate every few weeks to the main Avengers base. Steve and Tony had worked out their issues and were back to their kind of sort of best friend relationship. Tony hadn't quite forgiven Bucky yet, but he'd stopped trying to shoot him when he walked in the room, so that was progress.

Bucky was at the base eating lunch one day when Steve walked in He had a woman with him, one Bucky had never seen before. "Hey Buck, I'd like you to meet Jane. Jane, this is Bucky."

"Nice to meet you," she said, shaking his hand. She had a nice smile.

"Likewise," Bucky said. He went back to his peanut butter sandwich while Steve and Jane sat beside him at the bar top.

"She was just telling me about the time SHIELD confiscated her equipment," Steve said before turning back to Jane. "Did you really drive all the way out into the desert to get it back?"

"Thor needed a ride, and I needed my stuff back,," said Jane. "I didn't know for sure then that he could do it, but it was that or sit on my ass and mope."

'Can't do that,' Bucky thought. He wasn't invested in their conversation, but they were fun to listen to.

"No, I completely understand. I would've done the same thing," said Steve. "That urban legend about me and the grenade? Not a legend."

Jane laughed. "Reminds me of when I tried shielding Thor with my body in the middle of a fight."

Bucky stopped chewing.

"You tried to shield Thor?"

"Twice."

Bucky's head turned slowly towards her.

"No offense, Jane, but I don't think ten of you working together could do that."

"None taken, but in my defense it was a life or death situation. I try to do whatever I can to help save the day, be it making some funky new device or trying to defend super powered aliens. Probably why I punched Loki that one time."

The sandwich fell out of Bucky's hands.

"You punched Loki… I knew I liked you for a reason. Anyway, how's your bridge coming along?"

"We're getting started on a new prototype. Since that incident with the last one, we overhauled the fire safety regulations. Right now, we're looking at a ninety seven percent chance at successful transport. I figure if we can reach one hundred percent and I get myself as far as Asgard, we'll be in business."

"Wait, you're not using a test subject?"

"Why bother? It's my bridge. If anyone's gets first ride, it's going to be… is he okay?"

Bucky was decidedly not okay. His mouth hung open and his eyes bugged out. The sad remains of his sandwich lay forgotten on the floor, and though Steve called his name, Bucky was not in a place to answer. He could hardly hear Steve at all as he sunk deep into his thoughts.

** James Buchanan Barnes Inner Mind Theatre

"It is time to commence my greatest scientific experiment yet!" Jane shouted as she put on a helmet and strapped herself down on a massive rocket.

A faceless man in a lab coat lit the fuse, then ran for cover. The rocket shot out through a hole in the ceiling, Jane riding it like a horse and cackling with glee.

"FOR SCIENCE!" she screamed, soaring higher and higher in the sky. The rocket reached the sun and exploded on impact. Millions of pieces rained down upon the earth. All that remained of Jane Foster was some hair and a scrap of singed plaid.

** "Buck? Bucky?" Steve snapped his fingers in Bucky's face. "You in there?"

Bucky returned to reality with a bang. Literally. That was the sound his chair made when he threw it at the wall getting up. He lunged at Jane, pulling her so close their noses touched. "You must be protected at all costs."

Jane blinked. Steve blinked. Bucky did not blink.

"Uh…" Jane said. "Okay?"

After that fateful day, the majority of Bucky and Steve's free time was spent in Jane's lab. By the third day, she'd gotten over her befuddlement and accepted them into the fold as unpaid, super strong assistants. They moved heavy equipment, made midnight convenience/liquor store runs, and got a crash course in welding when it came time to solder the frame into place.

At night, or whenever Jane's eyes started to droop, they'd ease her away from her station and carry her to bed. She'd offer token resistance, but always gave in and buried her head into the neck of whoever got to hold her that day. It was a peaceful routine for the three of them. Jane got her work done faster, Bucky ensured she didn't blow herself to kingdom come, and Steve got a few nights a week in bed as long as Jane and Bucky's self imposed tasks were completed in a timely manner.

On one such night, which should have been date night at home watching badly dubbed kung fu movies and eating pizza, Steve was in the kitchen getting their drinks while Bucky put the movie on. He was all wrapped up in his favorite fuzzy blanket, so comfortable he didn't think he'd move for the next week. Then his phone chimed with a new text message.

'Hey there! Having a big breakthrough. Think the bridge might be ready for a test run! -Jane'

"Okay," Steve said, as he walked in with two fruity beverages. "Got those mango strawberry smoothies with whipped cream for my best guy!"

Bucky threw the blanket away. It smacked into Steve, spilling the drinks all over him. "We have to go. Jane needs us."

"But-"

"MOVE!"

They were out the door in seconds, Steve fumbling with his jacket as Bucky half dragged him to the car. He threw him in the passenger seat and tore out of the driveway. Steve managed to right himself and buckle in three blocks away from Jane's lab. He glared at Bucky. "Tonight was supposed to be our night, you know."

"Now it's our night and Jane's. Deal with it."

"If you love her so much, you should marry her."

"Not me, we."

"Wait, what?"

They arrived to find the lab intact and Jane exactly where they left her that morning. She had a Chinese takeout carton in her lap and typed one-handed while she ate. On the screen was the same code she'd been working on. The bridge prototype was untouched and unactivated.

"Hey guys," she said. "What are you doing here? I thought tonight was date night."

"So did I," Steve grumbled.

"I got your text. Did anything happen?" Bucky did a full sweep of the lab, searching for fires, leaking chemicals, or rips in the space time continuum. "Did you turn on the bridge?"

Jane swallowed a bite of lo mein. "I ordered dinner first. Physical engineering is hungry work. I've got more if you want some."

Bucky's stomach chose that moment to whine. He took a seat and rolled another chair at Steve. Jane had overshot how much food she'd need, leaving just enough for the three of them. Bucky gobbled down his fried shrimp while Steve stole an entire plate of dim sum. They ate, chatted, laughed, and joked around. Eventually, Steve relaxed and stopped passive aggressively ribbing Bucky about date night. It wouldn't have been the same without Jane anyway. One of these days, Bucky would tell her that. Unless Steve beat him to the punch.

"So I think I'll be ready for the test run tomorrow," Jane said, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "It's going to be amazing, though success is only ninety five percent certain this time."

Bucky forgot momentarily that he was supposed to be curbing her reckless behavior and got lost in how adorable she was when she was happy. Or nervous. Or happy and nervous at the same time. "That's great, Jane. And I'm sure whatever inanimate you send to Asgard will have a great trip!"

"Smooth Barnes," Steve hissed in his ear. Bucky elbowed him in the gut.

"Yeah, I still haven't convinced the legal team to let me go," Jane groused, crossing her arms. "As if they get to tell me what I do with my bridge."

"Well, they're the ones responsible for damage control if something goes wrong," said Steve.

"Nothing will go wrong if they'd just let me do it my way," Jane said. "Instead, I have to add all these superfluous safety features that aren't even really safe. I'd be at one hundred percent if it wasn't for this so-called virus protection they installed. That thing is buggier than a swamp."

"So delete it."

"I've tried. The encryptions are a mile long," Jane harrumphed. "Stupid bureaucracy. This is why I was independent for so long."

"I thought it was because they were stupid and didn't believe you," said Bucky.

"True," Jane conceded, "but they're eating their words now. And they'll eat them even more if I can get rid of this virus blocker."

She dropped the empty lo mein carton in the garbage. With both hands free, she typed at lightning speed. Bucky had never seen hands move so quickly. He tried to follow them, but his temples throbbed. He took to watching the screen instead. Line after line of letters and numbers in a sequence which made sense only to Jane. Bucky shared a look with Steve, but the punk just shrugged and shook his head.

"Are you sure you shouldn't just leave it?" Bucky asked as Jane deleted everything she'd written in frustration and started again. "Maybe it really would help?"

Alarms went off around the room as the screen took on a life of it's own. It spat out numbers at a rate of a hundred per second, too fast even for Jane.

"Yes," she said, the color draining from her face. "I am extremely sure."

"What's going on?" Steve got out of his chair as the gate prototype began to oscillate.

Jane screamed. "HIT THE DECK!"

The explosion shook the foundation of the building, which was single floor and made from titanium alloy exactly for this reason. They'd all have to send thank you notes to Tony later. In the meantime, Bucky covered Jane with his body, while Steve shielded the both of them with a metal table. The gate opened part of the way and blew an unearthly wind at them, pushing them backwards. Random bits of unused wires and computer modules flew over their heads. Bucky would have bumps and bruises later. Steve already had a cut on his cheek and lord knows how Jane was fairing.

The chaos ceased after ten long seconds. The gate's door mechanism rebooted and went back online, bringing about an end to the storm which in turn shut off the alarm system. The lab returned to relative silence as the trio picked themselves off the ground and assessed the damage.

Jane's bridge was in perfect condition. Everything else was not.

"I guess we won't be doing that demonstration tomorrow," Jane said, picking up the snarled remains of her favorite computer with shaking hands.

Steve put an arm around her. Bucky did the same. Sandwiched between them, she allowed her muscles to relax and her knees to buckle. They held her steady. Bucky kissed the crown of her head and rubbed her back. "Steve, what do you say we have a nice long talk with those legal guys tomorrow?"

"Took the words right out of my mouth," said Steve. "For now, how about you come home with us, Jane? We can watch kung fu movies."

He was so earnest, puppy dog eyes fully armed and loaded. Bucky himself would've fallen for it. Compared to that, Jane never stood a chance. She dried her eyes and left her ruined tech on the battered table. They stepped outside, arm in arm, to find an army of police cars and firetrucks waiting for them.

Two hours of paperwork and interrogation later, during which Bucky scared three different officers into wetting themselves, the three of them finally made it home. They cuddled up on the couch, Jane wrapped securely in the fuzzy blanket between them. Sipping mango strawberry smoothies, they watched Bruce Lee beat up thirty guys at a time and let their troubles roll by.

Bucky had read once that sometimes, science caused more problems than it solved. He kissed Steve and Jane as they were lulled off to the sleep, and knew this was not one of those times.

[inkspot-fox]

5, 7, 9. and 29 for Kat for the SWTOR OC ask meme

(From this ask meme)

5. What planet do they now call home? Either where their stronghold is or where you headcanon they live at.

Oh gosh, this is a bit of a tricky one. Kat--both Jedi Kat and Sith Kat--move around so, so much that they never really end up calling one planet ‘home’. At least, not for a good long while. I guess if asked, Sith!Kat would have told people that Dromund Kaas was his home for a while. It’s where he kept his stuff. But about the time he starts feeding information to Theron, he’d stop thinking of anywhere in the Empire as ‘home’. For Sith!Kat, really, he doesn’t get a home until the Alliance is established. Home is Odessen, because that’s where Marli and Theron are. It’s less about the place and more about the people.

It’a a similar situation for Jedi!Kat, actually. Especially since Jedi Kat is the Alliance Commander, unlike Sith Kat. And Jedi Kat... really didn’t have a planet-side home until Odessen. His home was his ship: The Prodigal Starfish. When Kat thinks of home, he thinks of his ship. Probably around kotet is when he starts thinking of Odessen as more of a home and less of a ‘temporary base of operations’.

7. Are they loyal to their faction?

Jedi Kat is, more or less, yeah. The Republic has a lot of problems and he has a lot of issues with Saresh in particular, but most of those problems are typical bureaucratic and capitalistic corruption (at least in the core story). But Kat doesn’t like fighting wars, he doesn’t handle making the “hard decisions” very well--he’ll do it, but it wears down on his already tenuous will to live. So he’s loyal, but he’d be so much happier focusing small-scale and just helping people. His ideal future is one in which he leaves the Jedi Order and becomes a bounty hunter, taking out crime lords and murderers. 

Sith Kat is... hahaha, Sith Kat is 100% a traitor. Like, he tries to enact reform at first. When he’s made a Dark Councillor, his first thought is to try to leverage his new power to make things better. And he makes... a little progress, to be sure. Marr is very fond of him, and Marr seems to hold most of the sway post-Act 3. But a lot of what Kat wants to change is focused in the Sphere of Logistics, and no one’s gonna change Vowrawn’s mind about slavery. Kat does things like set and enforce MSHA-like regulations for dig sites, frees every goddamn slave that comes within his sphere of power, and maneuvers his people to do things like stopping Ravage from taking over Alzaria. But eventually he comes to terms with the fact that it will never be enough, and when the opportunity comes to do more, he takes it and starts feeding Theron information.

9. How do they feel about the Force and the orders that use it?

Oh man. Let’s start with Jedi Kat here. Jedi Kat eventually comes to believe in more of a Unified Force Theory, especially when he comes to see the Voss (and even later, Zakuul). He believes that like, the underlying source of the Force doesn’t have an alignment, and that it’s somehow changed to be Light or Dark or neither when it’s drawn upon. How this happens, he doesn’t know, and he doesn’t really think about it that much. Mostly, he’s concerned with the smaller more immediate details. Like how he’s scared of the Dark Side, and of what happens to him when he loses control. He’s terrified of that. But on the same note, he doesn’t at all believe that the Jedi Order’s philosophy is the way to handle that. He doesn’t believe in abstinence from emotion--that’s stupid, and it makes people break even harder. Kat believes that the Jedi Order’s heart is in the right place, but that they’re going about it ass-wrong and are just hurting people. As for the Sith Order... Kat doesn’t know much about them beyond what he’s seen (as the infamous Hero of Tython) and what Scourge has told him. This does not leave him with a... favorable view. He is not a fan.

Sith Kat, on the other hand, has actually studied the Force somewhat. Sith Kat believes in the idea that the Force has a Will, even if that will is perhaps very vague and broad-sweeping. And Sith Kat, unlike Jedi Kat, actually channels primarily from what’s depicted in the game as the ‘Dark Side’, while being a very light-sided person. (The Force Theory in Star Wars makes no fucking sense and always breaks down at a certain point, so whenever talking about The Force, I’ll always be going off of this Force meta that Aki and I came up with). So Sith Kat isn’t afraid of the Dark Side. He knows it, he knows himself, and he’s careful. The Light Side, on the other hand, terrifies the shit out of him. Because he doesn’t know it--all he knows is that it’s supposed to be serenity and emptiness, and the most hardcore of Jedi just feel like hollow, empty shells to him. They scare him, and the Jedi Order scares him.

29. What’s their favorite food?

Jedi Kat... doesn’t get much in the way of culinary variety, but probably some decadently-spiced, flavorful noodle dish/soup he discovers on Nar Shadda. That, and curry dishes. Delicious, perfect curry and korma. So long as the dishes don’t have meat in them-- Jedi Kat’s a vegetarian (the smell of cooked or cooking meat was a trigger for a very, very long time, and while he’s had to move past that--ah, the joy of lightsabers as weapons--his body has more or less lost the ability to process meat well). 

Sith Kat ...actually this would be much the same, except that Sith Kat isn’t vegetarian. 

[plagueofsquid]

Wind-Up God Ch 3 Preview

Hey, you guys wanna see something self-indulgent?

It was a perfect darkness, a true pitch black, too dark for even shadows. The sky overhead was thick with clouds, as it was most nights, burying the stars in the same dust as the ground. Only the moon peeked through, a sickly pale thing that wavered as clouds passed. Valkyrie’s single headlight shone a million times brighter than normal, casting a long oval of gray in front of the bike.

Gyro loved the night. It felt like diving deep, deep into the ocean, letting his body sink so far below the waves that the water became a still blanket that surrounded him on all sides.

Of course, there were downsides.

It was dangerous to travel at night. This close to the coast Gyro didn’t worry about animal attacks or roving groups of bandits, but the road slowly decayed as he went further inland, crumbling into dust like everything else. Combined with very limited visibility, it created a serious hazard for a motorcycle. And then there was the temperature.

Gyro was used to the cold. Not impervious or anything, but he knew what to expect and dressed for the weather. He couldn’t say the same for the boy huddled against his back.

Johnny wore a threadbare sweatshirt and faded pants made of worn denim, and they seemed the limit of his worldly possessions. Cities generated heat, all those people stacked on top of each other, so even when they got cold they never really got cold. Not like the wasteland did. The wasteland was stripped naked under the sky, and bare dirt did little to store heat so when the sun dipped below the horizon, all warmth was simply gone. One layer wasn’t enough, you needed something to trap the heat against your body.

And it didn’t help matters that Johnny was in no shape for traveling.

Gyro had always been shit at medical stuff. He was better than the average guy simply because he’d actually received training, but he wasn’t exactly a master surgeon. Even he could tell Johnny wasn’t doing well. The boy was underweight to a worrying degree and he looked like he hadn’t slept in weeks, even after a full eight hours the previous night. On top of that, Gyro had heard him coughing a few times since leaving San Diego, and it didn’t sound good. The sort of thick, wet cough that tended to serve as a big warning sign that hey, this is something serious.

If Gyro’d had a choice, they would have spent a few nights at Soleil just to make sure Johnny was okay if nothing else. Traveling across the wasteland wasn’t without risks from external threats, but the real danger was the lack of supplies. It was thousands of miles where nothing grew but weeds and desert grasses, which were pretty much the closest plants had to actual shit for all their usefulness, and it rained about once a century. Gyro had basic first aid supplies packed, but there hadn’t been room for much else once food and water for two was included. He’d planned on having the chance to scrounge whatever else they needed before entering no-man’s-land.

What Gyro hadn’t planned for was two bounty hunters on his ass.

Gyro had enemies, now more than ever, but it hadn’t been an issue before. Normally, his surname would provide enough of a threat to keep him firmly on the ‘don’t take this job’ list for anyone who knew their shit. Normally, he wouldn’t think twice about fighting back, even if it was two on one. Normally, he didn’t have someone to protect.

It was the classic mistake men had made since there had been men to make it. Gyro couldn’t say no to a pretty face.

Johnny was fucking adorable. He was as mean as a feral cat and hadn’t bathed in God knows how long, but at least he was cute. Gyro had always done stupid shit in the pursuit of sex and this latest escapade shouldn’t have been any different.

It was. Sure, Gyro wanted to fuck Johnny, but even more than that he wanted to see him smile. And that was new.

But that would have to wait. For now, they had to survive.

There were about a hundred miles between them and Soleil by this point and it was the middle of the goddamn night. They would be hard to find, even for experienced trackers. Gyro began to slow Valkyrie, scanning what little he could see in front of them for a suitable place to make camp.

He found what he was looking for almost immediately. A small patch of grass next to the roadside. As Valkyrie rolled to a stop, Gyro reached back and found Johnny’s arm through the blanket. “You doing okay?”

“Jus’ tired.” Johnny definitely sounded it.

Gyro got off his bike and turned around to pick up Johnny. He didn’t mind carrying his companion. In fact, as shitty as the thought might be, he almost liked it. Johnny was light and easy to carry and the way he instinctively snuggled closer when held was quite possibly the most adorable thing Gyro had ever seen.

Johnny looked even smaller wrapped up in a blanket. He reached out and Gyro lifted him off Valkyrie, one arm on his back and the other under his knees. His upper body shook, and Gyro again felt panic bubble in his chest. Johnny was more susceptible to hypothermia than the average person since he couldn’t regulate temperature in half his body. Hypothermia was a constant concern in the wasteland, one Gyro was plenty familiar with already, but that didn’t make it any less dangerous.

The grass Gyro had found was dry and dead, the blades twisting into stiff spirals. He put Johnny down and ripped out tufts by the handful, piling it in front of the boy in a disorganized heap. Johnny curled up in a ball and pulled the blanket over his head.

“Don’t want dinner?” Gyro added a couple small bricks of charcoal to the pile and struck a match. The flame caught easily on the dried grass, and he watched as the bricks too were consumed by fire.

A hand emerged from the folds of the blanket and was thrust vaguely in his direction.

Gyro laughed and fulfilled Johnny’s demand with a piece of jerky, which he immediately pulled back under the blanket. The boy wasn’t exactly shy about taking Gyro’s supplies when they were offered, but he didn’t mind. It made things simpler.

They ate in silence at first, and as the fire burned higher and higher, Johnny let the blanket slip off his face. There were dark shadows under his eyes, but at least his cheeks had some color.

“You doing okay?” Gyro handed him another piece.

“Why do you keep asking?” The jerky was gone in less than a minute. Johnny ate like the food was about to be stolen from his hand.

“Burying a body is hard work. It’s more convenient for me if you stay alive.”

Johnny looked around at the darkness that surrounded them. “You wouldn’t have to bury me. There’s no one here to keep you from just leaving a corpse.”

“If I did that, you’d haunt the shit out of me.”

“I would.”

[nooneaskedyoulauren]

Fighting with people seems like a waste of time to me. Unless you’re doing some kind of wacky fighting sport where everyone’s on the same page, and it’s just sparring. Actual conflict? Thumbs down.

I prefer to pick fights with huge things. HUGE.

“Are you saying you like fighting with fat people and fat people aren’t actual people because that’s what it sounds like.”

I suppose it does kind of sound like that. I actually do apologize because I literally mean huge things, like, today for example, a pharmaceutical company. Also my fighting style is both passive and fairly ineffective. Basically run up on whatever the threat is, say/do a bunch of off-the-wall stuff, flee somehow, then just see how it plays out. Also a simple non-sensical meme misappropriating a company’s logo on a blog that truly doesn’t see the light of day.

“Good thing no one reads your blog then because that seems pretty futile. Also, stupid. And ineffective, as you mentioned.”

Thank you for that! Also, to circle back to your original comment don’t fucking fight with fat people they will kick your ass. Pound for pound you don’t stand a chance, for real. Savages. The cool kind. Except when they take it a little too far and they’re miserable or having major fucking issues about it then seriously don’t fuck with them until they work through that.

Anyway.

Most pharmaceutical companies are branches of other companies that do other stuff. Johnson & Johnson, for example. They do all kinds of stuff.

“Like what?”

It’s too long of a list. Just Google it and see whatever you find and run with it. I’m sure you’ve heard of Johnson & Johnson before. I hope this is a good writing prompt for a conspiracy theorist working on what this could possibly be kind of implying.

“Oh here we go.”

Luckily, for those who just simply cannot with conspiracy theories, I am very selfish and although I truly do care about other people and the good of the world or whatever whatever, I am most concerned about myself. The 100% truth. I realize things suck, I have experienced a few things, I have helped people through tough times and they have “helped” me. At the moment I’m pretty riled up about my own life and my own bullshit.

“Ok well I can’t believe I even read this far, if this doesn’t apply to me then I’m going to go do something else.”

Ok, byeeeeeeee! 👋

If anyone is still reading, this is specifically for anyone who has taken an atypical antipsychotic for one thing when perhaps you were dealing with another issue. And maybe that medication was later said to treat that correct issue but maybe your dosage was just maybe not quite right because at the time it was given for this other thing because of whatever reasons.

NOTE: PHARMACEUTICAL DRUGS AND RECREATIONAL DRUGS CAN HAVE THERAPEUTIC AND EFFECTIVE USES FOR DIFFERENT PEOPLE DEALING WITH DIFFERENT THINGS. Surround yourself with a supportive and trusting network and take some time to educate yourself on whatever your issue(s) are so you don’t have to deal with making things 1000 times worse for yourself versus better. If you are having trouble building a strong support network, keep chipping away at that, but in the mean time education can help.

If anyone is familiar with medications, side effects can occur. In no way am I saying doctors are stupid, I am just saying they are just looking at the facts at hand and doing their very best to treat whatever your goddamn issue is.

“Hey, there’s no need to be so aggressive!”

True. I just can imagine the frustration, from both sides. The fucking patient and the fucking doctor.

Let’s say a doctor is treating someone who is unable to express the issue in a way that can be understood.

“Well I suppose they become a veterinarian at that point, am I right? Hahahaha!”

Clever, however not helpful, at the moment.

I’ve personally been on the patient side and it’s very concerning when your doctor clearly is less knowledgeable about your specific issue than you, it really breaks down the trust. The nurses always seem to know what the fuck is going on and watching that whole power dynamic is entertainment in itself however, generally, when someone actually goes to the doctor they have an issue requiring treatment not a ticket to the live action soap opera show.

“That’s why they have specialists you stupid bitch.”

Yeah, but what if I can’t get the referral from my primary care or what if the specialist is not in my area or fucking the insurance is a PPO vs. and HMO because my employer...

“I gotta go.”

Again, byeeeeeeeeeeeeee! 👋

Anyway, sometimes drugs you’ll take and then have an issue with will later resurface in a class action lawsuit and then you can at least have something.

“Well that’s cool! Money! I mean how bad are the side effects?”

Oh, you’re back. What can I say that will...

“Sorry this is getting a little interesting!

Look. Hormones are a thing. Those are regulated within the human brain and the reproductive system. Also, environmental (as in a person’s person environment, what they are eating and drinking and their tolerance to people that are genuine assholes and living space, etc. etc. etc.). So, you could possibly infer from all this that hormones play a factor in the presentation and effective treatment of different mental illnesses that came about for whatever reason.

“This is getting pretty sciency and also, you are not an actual doctor so why should I even listen to you.”

Thank you!!! All of that is correct. Also, in no way have I backed up any of my statements above with any previously-done research. Is there a works cited page? Nope! This is going to end in a basic white bitch-worthy health and fitness tip spiel.

“Ok, I’m leaving again but I’m still listening because I need to lose some weight.”

I. Hear. You.

If you’ve taken a medication and your body is now ravaged from a combination of a lot of things I have said above get to a place where you are safe and secure. Gather yourself together. And get back to basics.

“🙄.”

Go vegan.

“You did not just go there.”

Oh I’m there.

“You can’t sustain yourself on that diet.”

True, if you don’t know what the fuck you are doing you absolutely will get malnutrition and things will get so much worse, you don’t even know.

“Well goddammit! How is this helping me?”

Three words for you to mull over: Hormones. Safety. Trust.

“Dammit this is just giving me anxiety!”

There you go! You’ve identified something! Go learn about anxiety and if you have that go see a doctor who deals specifically with anxiety and then go seek all the treatment option...

“I can’t deal with this!”

I hear you. Look, you gotta go figure your shit out I am just sharing my experiences.

“Well, what about that hormone stuff?”

Yeah all that is tricky, which is why I mentioned the vegan thing. Here’s what I’m doing having not given you any of my medical background so, again, just blindly applying what someone else is doing given your situation should be done AT. YOUR. OWN. RISK. I have been taking a step back from animal products other than egg whites, regulating my schedule with regular exercise and sleep, I could go on and on. I have gone on and fucking on. There’s another blog specifically outlining the entire goddamn thing.

“But just tell me real quick a few tips because I don’t really have time.”

Go Google discipline and figure out what that means to you, specifically, independently of anyone else that is the last thing I can possibly suggest at this point. What are you doing in your life, right now, that is making your issue better or worse? Identify that, adjust that.

“You’ve done nothing but ramble. Not one person gives a shit about the pharmaceutical blah blah blah whatever you even started talking about to begin with. You didn’t even give me any concrete or specific tips on what you promised earlier. Why did you even fucking write this?!”

Are you a little bit riled up about your own health and maybe going to look into that for yourself and just kind of go back and give some consideration to whatever your own personal and unique situation is on your own because maybe there’s some merit to all that and you didn’t really think about all that previously because you were so busy worried about everyone else?

“Well, I mean, maybe I guess?”

Cool. Ok now I gotta go. BYEEEEEEEEE 👋

*If you are looking for one on one diet and fitness counseling there are so many talented and knowledgeable fitness experts locally. Do you have a drug issue? You may think you know Pablo Escobar him/herself but you need to determine their motivations prior to seeking wisdom on the intricacies of MDMA if you are actually being fucking serious right now with that bullshit. If you have a genuine medical issue, there’s experts out the ass up in this area. Go to one. Educate yourself. Are you someone that actually thinks I have something to say that is of value and merit? Go search through a dizzying array of blog posts I’ve written beginning in 2009, and just pick something that speaks to you and run with that. Thank you.

[philosophiums]

HOLYYYYY FUUUUUCK MY HEART WENT TO A DARK PLACE I DON'T THINK EVEN YOU'RE GOING TO LIKE THIS ANGST WHY MUST I BE LIKE THIS...what if, (bc my poor son hasn't suffered enough, ofc) Neil got cancer? Terminal lung cancer, or leukemia or smthn.

And ofc, without Neil, Andrew would be a mess, and Neil knows that, and he doesn’t want Andrew to spiral bc of him even tho it’s def NOT his fault that he has cancer so he makes a deal with Andrew–he will hold on for as long as he can andtry experimental treatments and just TRY his hardest to stay alive, even though he’s aware his chances of survival are barely in existence and he’s in pain and he doesn’t want to–but only if Andrew promises to keep trying if (when) he dies.I thought about it the other way around too but it’s not QUITE as angsty bc Andrew would fight literally bc Neil needs some1 to watch his stupid ass and then Neil isn’t rlly suicidal but his playing would probably be horrible and he’d be distractedand he’d probs ends up getting himself killed bc Andrew wouldn’t be there to be his anchor. (I’m so sorry about this I have a problem I just needed to share)

okay, first of all, Courtney, fuck off. second of all, I cried writing this. I cried a lot. I hate everything about this and I hope you all suffer with me because this sucks

it starts with Neil being tired

a lot

it’s a persistent sort of tired that dogs him during practice and haunts him during class

even his bones seem to be tired, aching in a dull, heavy way

he and everyone else tag it as stress and anxiety, because even Neil realizes that it’s more of a heavy sort of tired

he’s not yawning really at all

he’s just

unmotivated, and moving seems like more work than it should be

and then Neil starts getting tired faster during practice, and it gets harder for him to catch his breath

Andrew forces him to go in and see a doctor, but the doctor just tells Neil to start sleeping at least seven hours per night and to eat better

thus night practices with Kevin get cancelled and Andrew stops keeping sweets and other unhealthy food in the dorm

at least in the sight of Neil

Neil doesn’t like seeing Andrew worried about him, so he hides the fact that even the extra sleep and the regulated diet aren’t really helping

he actually seems to be losing weight

but then the bruises start forming

and we all know that bruises are commonplace for Neil, so they go unnoticed at first, but then they start happening over little things, like bumping shoulders with Andrew

and Neil is still fucking fatigued all the time, he is bone-tired

Andrew has just about had enough, and is just about to drag Neil’s ass back to the doctor

determined to make threats to the doctor if he has to in order to find out what the hell is wrong with Neil

when Neil starts getting sudden nose bleeds

just out of nowhere, often not triggered by anything, and they’re frequent

this time Neil volunteers to go to the clinic, and Andrew goes with him

the doctor listens to the symptoms and then

well

Neil gets transferred to the hospital in Columbia

no one has told them anything yet

Andrew is panicking, heart thumping in his chest worse than when he stands on the edge of the roof

Neil, despite everything, is calm

there’s no point in panicking yet

no point in panicking at all

they get their answers at the hospital, a nurse sitting them down and explaining that Neil’s symptoms sound like leukemia, and that they need to run some tests

Neil is immediately put in for a bone marrow biopsy and, not trusting the doctors, he denies the offer for an anesthetic

they still inject him with a local, and that’s the most painful part of the whole procedure

he’s out of there in fifteen minutes, and the hospital sends him and Andrew home

it takes two weeks and five days before the hospital contacts Neil

Andrew was keeping track of the days as he did more and more research on leukemia

and that’s exactly what they find

at 4:03pm on a Thursday afternoon in November, Neil is diagnosed with acute myelogenous leukemia

one of the nurses gives Neil information about a cancer center in Columbia and suggests that Neil go try to check in that night

Neil doesn’t want to, obviously

he wants to go home, talk to his family, sleep with Andrew, and forget about all of this

but Andrew is having none of that

so Neil goes

but of course that’s not how the world works, and Neil and Andrew end up driving home anyway

(and this is going to be a novel if I don’t quit so)

Andrew quits playing Exy in order to drive Neil back and forth from Columbia, for as long as Neil can manage the trip

eventually it gets to the point where the treatments start killing things aside from just the cancer, though, and Neil stays in Columbia

Andrew stays with him

because Andrew is scary, and the doctors don’t think it’s worth trying to enforce their rules when Neil had a full-blown panic attack the first night after Andrew was forced to leave

so Andrew stays with Neil, not in the same bed because of all of the tubes, but at least in the same room

money isn’t an issue, so Neil tries everything, every drug, no matter how risky, no matter how experimental

he tries them because he promised Andrew, because he’s not ready to stop fighting yet

and Andrew

oh

this is killing Andrew

watching Neil fade away with each day, losing his hair, losing the brightness in his eyes

don’t stop fighting he whispers when he thinks Neil is asleep don’t leave me yet

when they eventually realize that the treatments aren’t doing anything

that Neil isn’t getting better

they leave

Neil points radomly at a map and they go there

Andrew drives, slower than normal so that Neil can look at the landscapes

but that’s not what Neil cares about

that’s not what Neil watches

and Andrew, for once, doesn’t tell Neil to stop staring

they end up renting a house with the last of Neil’s money, a place in the quiet part of town with a decent backyard

but Neil doesn’t go outside anyway

he stays with Andrew, who has quit smoking, who has lost muscle mass due to lack of use, who stays glued to Neil’s side no matter what

and just as Neil is memorizing Andrew’s face, Andrew is memorizing Neil’s

Neil doesn’t say You have to keep living

and Andrew doesn’t say That’s rich, coming from a dying man

instead, Neil says I love you and you were always the survivor between the two of us

and Andrew says you are the only thing that matters

when Neil dies

oh, god

Andrew, who usually can’t bring himself to care about anything

who often doesn’t know how to express his emotions anyway

Andrew screams and cries and holds onto Neil until he’s managed to convince himself to let go

and then he doesn’t look back

he calls 911 to come get the body

and he calls Wymack

and he calls Bee

but these are just motions, cursory actions that mean nothing

Andrew doesn’t go to the funeral, because what’s the point

Neil isn’t there, and he’s not going to give a shit

funerals are not for the dead, and Andrew has no intention of watching other people cry over a man who…

he’s just not going to do it

he stays at Palmetto because of his promise to Kevin

but he’s done with Exy, and he’s done with things that remind him of Neil

he goes to see Betsy, but he doesn’t talk to her

he just wants to sit quietly with someone who doesn’t give him a rough look of pity every time he’s near

he just wants an hour per week to mourn Neil in peace

Andrew notices when the team stops mourning Neil, when they move on with their lives

a month is all they gave him before picking themselves up

it’s what Neil would have wanted

hell, he wouldn’t have wanted them to mourn at all

but it still makes Andrew hate all of them more

he mourns Neil for the rest of the school year

mourns until he graduates

and then he sheds himself of Neil like a ghost

and he leaves that ghost in Palmetto, with Neil’s unspoken plea for Andrew to live being the only thing Andrew holds onto