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urlocalnonbinarybastardwrites · 6 months ago

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hiii so i put in a request for the matching thing but you didn’t respond to it so im guessing i didn’t put enough info which i completey understand!!! very sorry about that, i hope ur still doing these requests if not i deeply apologize. anyway pls take ur time so so sorry!!

i’d also like to be matched with someone in pjo pls!

personal info ? 15 yrs old, i’m a girl, she/her(truly idc), bisexual, half mexican (white dad…)

physical: i have medium length wavy brown hair with grown out bangs, im 5’4 average weight, pretty tan, brown eyes, silver circle glasses, i wear smudgy eyeliner w/mascara, i either wear tank tops with big pants or big t shirt with shorts

personality: i’m honestly very weird with the people im close with, like very. i have brainrot humor so im always saying weird ass shit acting like it’s normal. i’m also very sarcastic and if im not very close with someone i give them like 0 reaction i guess? idk ppl tell me im nonchalant but that sounds rlly corny 😬 anyway im very embarrassing in public when im with my friends and they hate it but i think its funny idc!! im also pretty moody but im just a teenage girl!!!!!!! i dont get mad that easily tho like i can take a joke i just get ANNOYED easily but then ill be fine in a few minutes. also ppl tell me im very funny so 😇 meat riding myself YES IM A NO SABO KID I AM TRYING TO LEARN SOANISH.

hobbies/intrests: love love love listening to music, love tv girl, tyler, mitski, arctic monkeys, the smiths, depeche mode, the cure, lana, tame impala, beabadoobee and so many other generes and artists but i only know like 2 songs 😬

i also had a severe fnaf phase, avatar the last airbender, spiderverse, saiki, and obvi percy jackson

currently OBSESSED with slushy noobz they are my whole personality they are how i act. along with avascreams on tiktok ive literally had 6 different ppl tell me “you know that one girl on tiktok?? you act just like her” IM TRILY NOT EVEN TRYING TO ACT LIKE HER I SWEAR. also love sam and colby i full heartedly believe in ghosts just watch ima become a ghost hunter 😊😊

as of right now my hobbies are playing stardew valley and never getting my homework done, i also love to draw but im not very good at it. i also love painting but i haven’t done it in a while bc of school :(( i take piano lessons as well but again, not very good even after 5 years. i rlly like reading too but again bc of school i haven’t read as much lately, love playing with my pets (dog and cat) they’re so cute i love animals so so much i want more but yknow im busy, ive also gotten into working out bc im tryna lose this face fat🫥

likes: love carnival rides!!!! they’re so fun i love the fair SO MUCH. beautiful atmosphere truly. the zipper is so fun don’t let anyone lie to you. nature, i love going on walks in the woods but i can’t bc i don’t live near any😔 food i love food, korean, mexican, american, japanese, i love it all. english class! teacher is so sweet i love her and its also easy and boring so

dislikes: six flags. i hate roller coasters. annoying ppl like bruh stfu up OH MY GOD. when my mom asks me about college, leave me alone pls!

okay i truly don’t know what else to put i hope this was enough 😓😓

-faith 👐

Hey Faith, I am so so sorry that this took incredibly long to complete. I’ve been insanely busy these few months and lots of personal stuff going on so I really hope that this does it justice! And also also don’t be sorry I’m really sorry that this took so long

Your PJO ship: Leo Valdez 🔥🔥🔥 (man I’m jealous)

Explanation: honestly the best way I can explain this is that you’re crazy totally matches his crazy. Your freak matches his freak. is somebody gonna match my freak? Yes, someone will match your freak and that person is Leo. Starting off with your physical appearance, I think that he would be very attracted to you and I think you give a vague match of his mom like I feel like you look like his mom a little little bit, which is what kind of drew him to you in the first place I feel like he probably saw you in a crowd and his jaw dropped. He just thought that you were your clothing style. He also liked your eyeliner which he had you do on him whenever you guys got comfortable enough in the relationship he was like hey can I please have your make up routine done on me? He looked rlly hot but anyway- you guys are just so chaotic together with your personality like you match him so well I feel like Leo in order to make a relationship work with him. He needs to have someone that’s either vastly different than him or the same because I mean, I just see you guys as Deadpool and Vanessa, you guys so chaotic in public you guys would do so much embarrassing shit together and social anxiety would be afraid of both of you combined, a deadly duo. Whenever you were first getting to know each other, and you were more relaxed and chill around him less if you’re crazy with showing, that’s what kind of Drew him like he thought that your dynamic could be that you would kind of be more opposites, but then he slowly realize that you were just as fucking goofy and silly as him, and he would have a blast with you as you guys got further on into your even like just friendship that eventually turn into romance. You guys always have the funniest times together like I’m not joking. You guys would be the couple to go out with if you wanted a good time because you guys just yeah you’re chaotic and glorious and also really freaking funny and I mean yeah. (I would also like to let you know to do a deeper dive into your personality. I did research some of the people you mentioned that you were compared to and watched some of their videos and subjected myself to the painful amount of puns and batshit crazy, honestly I’m pretty impressed if people are comparing you) as for your hobbies, he would love playing Stardew Valley and I feel like he would romance. Sebastian don’t ask me why, but I just feel like he would. He would totally want Sebastian as I don’t know why OK I really don’t. I really don’t but anyway that’s just my personal theory. But he would love playing Stardew with you. He’s also a procrastinator when it comes to homework and work and taking things seriously in general so you guys would be quite the interesting duo and I feel like U2 would just end up making out during study date so if you want someone to study with? He’s probably not the best person. Also, I think that he would love your art and would be absolutely obsessed. If you ever did any artwork of him or just inspired by him like he would love that he would frame that shit he would brag to everyone about how good you are and same goes with piano he’s obsessed even if you think you weren’t very good after five years of playing he thinks you’re magnificent. It took everything in him to not compare you to Apollo because he knew that that would probably get you like blasted into the sky or something, but he just thinks anything that comes from you is good basically. That’s Leo Math.

You + Anything= Good.

He can never read very much because of his ADHD. I just feel like he would lose interest in books really easily unless they’re really exciting or exactly what he’s being into at this point, so I feel like he would get the being too busy to read. He also loves animals. He would absolutely snuggle all the pets in the world. I feel like he just loves animals. I feel like he especially loves dogs because they match his energy and he’s definitely like a golden retriever guy or maybe a Chihuahua guy one of them anyway dogs are very Leo core. Also, he thinks your chubby face is cute, and while he promotes working out for the healthiness of it, he thinks you have the wrong motivation if you want to get rid of that cute squeezable cheeks. (Multiple cheeks if ykwim) he also loves carnival rides and he’s a huge foodie so if you ever went out to him, you guys would end up eating more than your stomachs and belts can handle I mean yeah you guys would just be done if you ever went out to eat because he would order so much food and then I feel like because of his ADHD he’d be midway eating through another thing and then see other stand and be like babe. We gotta go there next. basically you guys would be extremely full. He also likes nature walks. I think that he kind of just likes the dirt of it because he’s definitely not afraid to get dirty and he loves just poking around nature I mean, I honestly that’s how I see him going on hikes like he’d pick up slugs, he do all kinds of like gross stuff. People normally wouldn’t do like I don’t know, letting a worm crawl on his arm or something. anyway you guys totally match each other crazy and match each other’s freak yes just like the song, and I really ship it 💕💓💗💞💗💞

#leo valdez x reader #Leo Valdez #leo valdez x you #hoo #hoo pjo toa #hoo Leo #Leo hoo

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cfs-crohns-colitis-warrior · 2 years ago

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It sucks being chronically ill. I want to be able to make money to pay my own way in life, to pay for my share of things, but I can’t work at the moment, maybe ever, so how am I supposed to do that?

A normal job is out of the question, I tried that in 2021 and struggled a lot after only about a month of part time work, and it was fairly straight forward and easy stuff, just basic filing etc.

Working from home is tough too. I don’t know if I’ll always be able to do the hours requested, because I never know what kind of week, day or even hour I’m going to have. I might manage all my work one work, the next I might not manage any of it. I’m going to struggle finding something flexible and simple enough for me to do (cause I don’t have that many skills) and even if I find something suitable it’s not guaranteed I’ll even get the job, especially since they’re more likely to go with someone who will be more reliable.

Then there’s the fact that I only have so much energy, and it’s always a debate on how to spend it. I have to use so much for showering, eating, just basic living to keep myself alive and clean basically. The thing is, I don’t want all my remaining energy to just go on work and earning money, because what kind of life is that? I want to be able to enjoy my time too. I want to be able to sit and read for a bit before bed, I want to be able to use my energy to cook delicious food or to help keep the house clean. But after all that, what energy is there left for work?

Even starting my own business will be a struggle. I doubt I’ll ever earn enough that it would be a replacement for a part time job, let alone a full time one. It’s just my hobby that I want to use to earn a little money from, because it’s much more flexible for me to do. The truth is though, I can only manage so much, and what happens if I stop being able to make anything?

Sure, at the moment I’m on benefits which helps me pay board and my phone bill etc, and I’m able to budget money for other stuff like entertainment when I can manage it and for going out for food, but I pay for very minimal things since I still live at home with my mum and dad.

What on Earth will happen when I’m able to move in with my boyfriend? My benefits will likely stop, since they don’t view someone as an individual, and so all money issues will fall to him. I’ll have to rely on him to pay for everything, and he’ll be the sole earner, earning barely enough money for one person, and having to pay for two. I don’t want him to pay for everything. I want to be able to pay for my own stuff, but I’m just too ill to be able to afford it. What the hell am I supposed to do?

My dad had a decent job, and my mum didn’t work and wasn’t able to get any benefits, so my dad has always paid for everything. I’ve seen first hand the kind of strain that can put on a relationship. My illnesses will already put a lot of strain on us before money even gets involved. Now I’m worried about how everything will affect my relationship and what on Earth we’re going to do. All I want to do right now is go to bed and go to sleep, but I’m too worried about the damn future thanks to unforeseeable illnesses that take everything from a person and they have no way to stop it or reverse it.

All I can hope for right now is that there’s something out there for me, some way to earn an okay amount of money at least, or that there’ll somehow be some miracle cure found soon that means I’ll be able to work a normal job again.

Anyway, another rant over, worries out of my head a bit. This is basically just a way for me to voice my thoughts and feelings to try and not keep it all bottled up inside me. I hope other peoples lives are going better than mine right now…

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cafffeineconnoisseur · 9 months ago

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Everything you went through i understand completely.

Fyi nursing school wasn’t my first option, but I couldn’t do well back in high school since my father passed the same year I should’ve studied hard to get good grades that could get me into med school.

I was only 0.7% away from getting into med school so nursing was my last option, and honestly, my family was against it but I insisted since it was my last option and the last major that’s close to med school, so i got in 🤷🏼��♀️

Back in my second year, I had to go visit a therapist because of the immense amount of pressure I went through and I had to get on some meds to help me relax, which resulted in having irregular periods and having to take meds for that too, I honestly am still traumatized about my entire university experience, but i kept telling myself that it will end soon and it did.

Another family member passed when I was a graduate, and I went through depression and anxiety for the entire graduation year I wasn’t even half happy even when I was close to the end, so again i relate.

Time will pass by and you will remember these days and be thankful they’re over, I’m glad you’re occupying yourself with different hobbies and I’d say this is the best time to explore your true self and what you actually want, this is the perfect time to choose a path you’re comfortable with, and maybe learn about other careers that could be wayyyy better than med school, i secretly wish i chose marketing over nursing bc they’re effing rich 😂

Ily pookie and i want you to be the best all the time ❤️

Pookie I'm so sorry you had to go thru all that and thanks a lot for sharing. Ik this can be difficult to talk about but I'm so grateful you did cuz I feel empowered.

I'm so sorry about your father's and your family member's passing, it's so hard to deal with honestly. Even my grandpa passed away last November, I hadn't met him in 4 years and I didn't even have the time to grieve. Damn how I wish the education system took our mental health seriously lmao.

Sending you hugs cuz I relate to the irregular periods so much cuz since 2024 began, I didn't get it for 3 months straight. I literally got it during my finals and it was hella intense so I did pretty horrible in it and even now I'm gonna touch the 2 month mark lmao. I was basically diagnosed with severe vitamin B12 deficiency so I had to take shots on my ass lmao and shit ton of meds. It didn't cure my headache so my doc gave me anti depressants and anti anxiety pills which I'd used more often than necessary. I realised it was wrong so I stopped completely and had to go thru withdrawal lol. Isn't it crazy how much our physical health is affected by all of it? Ugh I find it so annoying. Like in the past few months I've gained some weight. Lot of ppl around me call me some shit for that but I try to ignore it. I want to lose weight but I have a history of ed so I'm just scared lmao.

I hope you're doing better now pookie ❤️

Yeah I'm sure time will pass but I just can't wait now lmao. It's been too long and I'm done with those toxic af classes, losing friends, constant anxiety, insomnia and what not. All of that to still not be good enough.

Ifkr like atp I just wanna be YouTuber or tiktoker lmao cuz some of them are earning wayy more than actual doctors hahaha.

Actually I'm looking into more research oriented careers and stuff idk how that's gonna go lol

Thanks a lot for sharing this baby, I feel so much better just sharing my heart away over here. 💗

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procrastinatorproject · 1 year ago

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I was terrified for years that if I ever stopped keeping an extremely tight grip on myself and berating myself constantly for Not Doing Enough, I would just... stop. I would lie in bed or on my couch all day, scroll tumblr (if that), binge tv shows, and let my flat turn into a complete dumpster. The only thing that was keeping me even marginally productive was the constant self-flagellation and self-loathing.

As proof, I usually took that even with all that constant pressure and self-punishment, I still spent a ton of time Not Being Productive, but just lying in bed and bingeing tv shows or scrolling tumblr. Clearly, if I ever let up, even the tiny bits of productivity would disappear.

And then I reached this summer term break, the first time in well over a decade when I didn't have any "should be"s hanging over my head. No "I should be studying for an exam", no "I should be writing a term paper", no "I should be doing my job" (my contract ended in April), no "I should be making progress on this Major Life Decision". Just... eight weeks of nothing.

And I very intentionally banned myself from doing anything for university for the entirety of September. No "I should use this time to prepare the classes for next term" or "I should revise all my notes from last year", none of it. Just free time to do with as I see fit. As long as there is some kind of food in the flat and I am wearing marginally clean clothes, I'm good.

It didn't even take three days before I had created two new tumblr blogs revived five old hobbies, written about 10k in new stories, and tidied my bedroom to a higher standard than it had seen in a very long time.

And you know when I started binge-watching tv shows and being unable to get out of bed again? When it became abundantly clear that getting a new kitchen, the one real project I had planned for my eight weeks off, was going to take some hard decisions and lengthy preparation, and my old "you should be working on this"-mechanisms kicked in again.

It wasn't the things that needed to be done that triggered the procrastination and avoidance, it was the relentless self-punishment in response to a completely understandable nervousness about having to make difficult decisions.

And the thing that actually got me to move wasn't berating and blaming myself for being "lazy" or punishing myself some other way. It was being kind to myself and going: "yup, instead of ordering that fridge, a thing that Scares You To Your Core, you spent the entire day writing 14k words worth of daydreaming. I see how that happened. You clearly needed that, so well done for channeling the anxiety into something that gave you joy. Now, let's call a friend to talk this through and make a plan for tomorrow so you have support while you give this fridge-thing another go."

(Also: "yup, you had planned to do and write and blog SO MANY THINGS, but the kitchen anxiety has made it incredibly hard to spend your time with anything other than binge-watching. i'm sorry your brain is going through such a rough patch, it's very understandable you couldn't follow through on all the things you'd hoped. But you did some of them! And you can always come back to it. It's okay!")

Is this a magical cure? Of course not! My executive function is still all over the place. Even in those weeks where I got A Lot done, I still didn't manage to cook as often as I'd liked or start to go swimming again, and there were things I thoroughly avoided.

But what this experience has demonstrated to me very clearly is that OP is right: you can't punish, berate, and hate yourself into not being disabled. It Does. Not. Work. No, not even for you.

It might work temporarily, but it'll do much more harm than good, especially in the long run.

I was terrified of letting go. Really utterly existentially terrified. I won't go into details, but trust me, it was bleak.

And a lot of that fear is still there, because I've built it over decades of being undiagnosed and unmedicated and convinced I was a moral failure because I didn't understand my disability.

But it really is okay to let go.

Our lives will not disintegrate. We will not suddenly become a blob of inertia that will never ever move again.

We might crash for a while because we'll need to heal from years and years and years of abuse.

But in the end, we all, yes, even you, will find that we want to move again.

Not out of fear of punishment and rejection, but because we want to.

And it's okay if you're not there yet.

I wasn't for a really long time, and I've been incredibly lucky because I finally have medication that mostly works and an amazing therapist.

But you, too, can get there.

You, too, are allowed to let go.

It'll be okay!

And we'll be here, cheering you on!

the thing about having horrible executive function issues is that sometimes you don't do something that should have been done and that has consequences that are unpleasant for you. and sometimes you feel horrible about it and berate and beat yourself up for it and drill into your head over and over that the terrible thing that's happened to you is all your fault. and then the next time a similar situation comes up, you remember how you felt the last time, and mostly out of fear of how bad you'll feel if you don't do the thing again, you do the thing. and then, this is where it gets dangerous, you'll start to believe that this is an effective method of managing your executive function issues. you'll see that berating yourself scared you into making yourself do the thing once and you'll, without even knowing, go...oh. if I'm horrible to myself, it'll motivate me.

and then you'll learn to do this. over and over and over. and if this becomes your strategy, it becomes very hard to stop doing, because you can develop this belief that your own self directed cruelty is what keeps you in line. I can't forgive myself when I fuck up, because then I'll fuck up all of the time.

Let me absolve you all of this problem right now: it. Doesn't. Work. It works once. Twice, maybe. But it doesn't keep working. Self-directed cruelty and punishment is not an effective form of modifying your own behavior. It might work once or twice but like all punishment based techniques it will quit working very fast and then all you'll be left with is pointless, ineffective self-inflicted cruelty and misery and the misguided belief that you're not allowed to stop.

Stop.

Let it go.

Berating yourself is not "the thing keeping you in line."

You are a good person.

You do not need the threat of punishment to want to do the right thing.

And if just wanting to do the right thing isn't enough to make you brush your teeth or do your homework or whatever, it's not because you don't care. It's because you have a disability.

And being horrible to yourself because you have a disability is bad, and perhaps more importantly, ineffective. You cannot shame and torture the disability out of yourself. It's not "keeping you in line." It's not doing anything other than making you miserable.

You can let go.

You can be gentle with yourself.

Nothing bad will happen. You will not suddenly become worse at keeping up. You will not lose your focus and progress.

Be kind to yourself.

I love you.

#this was VERY rambly #but apparently i needed to get it out there #THANK YOU SO MUCH OP!!!!!#i think this is the first time i actually considered blazing somebody else's post because it is #SO FUCKING IMPORTANT #be kind to yourself #be gentle to yourself #you deserve it!#yes even you 💗💗💗💗#executive dysfunction #ad(h)d #self-loathing #laziness does not exist #recovery #lili's home adventures #sadly 🙈#long post #(i am so sorry for the rambling. please reblog op's version if you don't want the hyper-personal rambling on your blog #but op's post deserves to be shared far and wide!!)

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mimzy-writing-online · 3 years ago

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You probably know this by now, I don't know if you keep up with Whumptober, but one of the prompts this year includes "blindness". I'm not blind but based on your posts about writing blind characters, and based on how I would feel if one of my disabilities were used as a whump prompt, I'm not super comfortable with it. I was wondering what your thoughts are on blindness being a Whumptober prompt.

(unironically and with feeling) thanks, I hate it.

Yes, I’m familiar with Whumptober, but I’ve never participated myself and I haven’t seen this year’s prompts.

Edit: I later did see the prompts and check out the blog. I think it's a good set of prompts and I look forward to all the promising content, especially since some of my favorite tropes are there. To be clear before you read this, I have no problem with Whumptober2021 or whump in general. This is not the first time blindness has been included for a list of whump prompts, and it won't be the last.

This post directed at the concept of "blindness" as a whump prompt and why I think it's a bad idea. The intended audience is individual writers thinking about future projects.

The timing of this is almost too perfect because I read a fanfic earlier this week that would meet that prompt exactly. Tags included whump, blindness, and angst with a happy ending. Now whump, hurt/comfort, and angst with a happy ending are tags I enjoy reading, but blindness as whump has a specific message to it.

To explain that message, I want to discuss what whump is. Many readers are already familiar with the genre, but I think taking the specific definitions and picking apart what it means and what expectations we carry when reading whump fanfiction

Urban Dictionary defines it as: taking a character and putting them through physical and/or mental torment and is typically followed by the same character being treated for their traumas. To indicate the characters place in the situation they’d typically be called a whumpee (the character being hurt/comforted), the whumper (the character that causes harm and trauma), and the caretaker (the character designated the helping/healing/comforting the whumpee).

Fanlore has a page for whump that explains it in depth, including where it started in fanfiction, examples of whump, and even a list of “popular targets” in different fandoms. (Warning: you might find yourself called out on the popular targets list)

“The term whump (or whumping) generally refers to a form of Hurt/Comfort that is heavy on the hurt and is often found in gen stories. The exact definition varies and has evolved over time. Essentially, whump involves taking a canon character, and placing them in physically painful or psychologically-damaging scenarios. Often this character is a fan favorite…”

To add to that, I think an important detail is the distinction Fanlore makes between hurt/comfort and whump:

“While some communities and fandoms may use whump as a synonym for hurt/comfort, there is still a recognition that whump refers to darker and more extreme scenarios. And there are still whump fics been written that have very little, or no comfort at the end of the story.”

The big appeal of hurt/comfort is getting to both explore the darker sides of pain and then experience the catharsis of being taken care of, of being supported by your loved ones as you recover from the trauma. The character is the proxy for experiencing those highs and lows while you yourself are safe at home.

I personally don’t read much/any whump without some h/c involved, but I’m happy there are stories out there for people who do enjoy it. I’m not here to judge what you like reading or what you do to your characters.

What I want is to express how blindness, my disability, used as a whump prompt personally makes me feel and what message it sends to me, to others, and how that message affects my daily life.

Whump undeniably involves watching a character suffer through something painful and traumatic.

My use of the word “suffer” is what I want you to focus on.

Vision loss can be painful and traumatic. I personally developed an anxiety disorder in response to vision loss. Others experience depression. For some it might result in relapsing into old, maladaptive coping mechanisms like drug use, self harm, or eating disorders.

A big part of my anxiety was how people reacted to my vision loss. It was a cause of their stress. They were worried because they genuinely believed I would never live a happy life without normal vision, and that my life would only be struggle and pain.

I recently saw an old friend who hadn’t heard about my vision loss. The conversation was awkward, but the worst part was how they reacted as though I had experienced an insurmountable tragedy. And even when I assured them I’m happy with my life, they clearly didn’t believe me. They acted like I was just lying or in denial.

I love that people want to empathize with my situation and ask themselves what they would do in my situation, but I hate when the conclusion they come to is something along the lines of “I could never do that, I’d be too miserable thinking about everything I lost, I’d never be able to do anything I enjoyed ever again.” But I did go blind. And I’m not miserable, I’m actually happy with the direction my life is going, and I still enjoy my hobbies, even if I engage with them differently.

I’m not suffering. My life didn’t end with vision loss. It’s not ruined, broken, or worthless.

I read a fanfic that was tagged with whump, blindness, and angst with a happy ending. A general synopsis of the plot: the whumpee had gone blind due to a curse. It was true love’s kiss that broke the curse. Even from the summary I knew it was going to end with whumpee being cured somehow and that I’d leave that fanfic vaguely dissatisfied no matter how good the rest of the fanfic was.

I can say this for the fanfic: the whumpee had already accepted that they would likely be blind for the rest of their life, but everyone around them was treating it as a tragedy that needed to be fixed, working tirelessly for a cure despite the whumpee’s protests that they didn’t have to.

It actually hit home to my personal experience.

I still left it dissatisfied with the ending. I might love curse fics in that fandom, and I love the “true love’s kiss” trope, but it wasn’t enough to distract me from the fact that: an actual person out in the world thought the best happy ending, maybe the only happy ending, would be if the character got their sight back.

(note: I clicked kudos and exited out of the story's page because no fanfic writer deserves unsolicited critique or hate, especially for content I consumed for free and at my own volition.)

Why read a story I knew would disappoint me?

Because blindness representation is so damn rare that I feel like I’m wandering in a desert, dying from thirst and desperate for that oasis. But sometimes that oasis is a mirage and the author is unintentionally telling you that your life is actually awful and you’ll never be fully happy like this. And that is a shit mentality to walk through life with.

I don’t appreciate blindness being a whump plot. I hate it. Hundreds (thousands?) of fanfictions featuring blind characters are about to enter the internet and the overall message is going to be “You poor thing! You must be in so much pain, you must be miserable! Who’s going to save you? Who’s going to comfort you? Wouldn’t it be terrible if there was no one in your life to take care of you? You poor helpless thing!”

And I feel objectified. I feel trivialized. The mirage in the desert is going to become a starch, empty room filled with dozens of water bottles, almost all of them poisoned. My representation is going to hurt me personally, and it’s going to reinforce that idea strangers have about how awful my life must be.

(I returned to school this past month, and every day I’m hesitant to tell someone I’m visually impaired because I don’t want to be treated differently. If I’ve managed to pass as sighted this whole time and then suddenly reveal “oh yeah, I’m visually impaired” I feel this instant silence, this pause of awkwardness as people suddenly question how they’re supposed to treat me. They treated me like a person, and now I’m something strange and unfamiliar.)

I’ve worked so hard to improve representation for blind people, to give internet strangers the exposure to a blind person they need to normalize blindness because I hope that if they’re ever so lucky as to meet a blind person, they’ll treat that person with respect. That hope that another person in the blind community will find a friend they feel comfortable and accepted with. I hope that I’ll meet people who accept my blindness as just another aspect of me (like being bisexual or gender fluid or a writer or a cat lover).

Please don’t turn me and my community into a caricature. Don’t erase everything I’ve worked for with this blog.

To be clear, this is not just me saying "I hate the cure trope" again. This is me saying "the purpose of whump is to painfully hurt your favorite character, and I hate that your idea of pain and suffering is my daily (wonderful) life."

#blindness #whumptober #fanfiction #whump #whumptober 2021 #blind character #disability #ableism #anon

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all-about-gw · 4 years ago

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the real ana tips:

drink water

eat at least! 1000 calories a day (our bodies use about 1300 calories every single day at rest!! which means even if you were not to move you’d still have a deficit; not enough calories will slow down your metabolism, not to mention other serious damage to your physical and mental health)

go for a walk if you can (even a 10 minute brisk walk does wonders for your metabolism and fresh air makes you feel better)

don’t fast for days (the hours you’re asleep are more than enough time without eating)

eat at least 2 warm meals a day (they don’t have to be large three course meals)

sleep! try and get at least 6 hours every night, 7 would be best. if you manage to get 8 or 9, you’re a champion! (it’s damn near impossible to fall asleep on an empty stomach. have something about 2 hours before bed: a banana, with almond butter if you like it, or warm oatmeal, i like mine with apples, cinnamon and maple syrup - it’s a cozy meal)

oatmeal and other high fibre foods (pears, almonds, popcorn, chickpeas, lentils, raspberries, broccoli) are good for your digestion (help with pooping because let’s be fucking honest here, we all probably need this tip)

do not do not do not do not do not do not use laxatives! im begging NEVER EVER NEVER!! use laxatives for weightloss purposes. never. please (they literally wreck your body. please never use them never ever please)

obviously i can’t tell you what to do. i can’t make sure anyone reads this. im sure i would’ve scoffed at this 10 years ago, 7 years ago, 5 years ago. im sure i would’ve scoffed at this last tuesday. im sure i’ll scoff at this on a sunday in march, perhaps i’ll scoff at this next year on a november afternoon. recovery is a roller coaster. and i can’t make you read this, or believe this. i can’t make you do anything. but i can tell you what i know from experience: crash dieting does not work, no goal weight will ever feel good enough, skinny does not cure depression, skinny does not fix your self-esteem (i know, im surprised as well. but fuck, ive felt ugly and useless at my lowest weight and absolutely gorgeous at my highest weight. skinny doesn’t matter.)

what i do know, is that we need our bodies and we need to take care of them. be kinder to our stupid flesh prisons. and one part of it is food.

food is energy. we need energy. we do not have to and should not feel guilty for eating. food is energy! we go to school and we work and we spend time with our friends and our family and our pets and we dedicate time to our hobbies or watch silly youtube videos or our favorite tv shows or scroll on tumblr or twitter or tiktok. and we need energy for that. we need energy for our bodies to fight off bad stuff. we need to eat. and it’s okay to eat.

again, i can’t tell anyone what to do. but i hope you at least consider this. ive been here for more than 10 years. more than 10 years on ed tumblr and i wish i could go back and tell my younger self this. i don’t know if i would’ve listened to myself. it’s still difficult sometimes to believe all of this. im still terrified of bananas. but i eat oatmeal instead. i still sometimes, when i feel hungry, feel good, in control and proud. but now it’s easier to recognise and counter those thoughts. it’s easier to tell myself that i do not and should not feel guilty about eating.

please consider this. please take care of yourselves. please be kind to yourselves.

#thinspo #ana #bulimia #ed #eating disorder #anorexia #skinny

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connordavidscamera · 4 years ago

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Living, Learning, and Filming Ch. 10 | Connor Brashier

A/n: Sorry for the delay, work and classes have been hell the past couple weeks! But here is the second to last chapter and I hope you guys enjoy it!

Summary: it’s the first time you’re seeing each other since your date. It’s… well, it’s something.

Word count: 1.8k

***

Week 10

Filming is only easy when you and the subject are comfortable with one another. Neither of us are comfortable now. I can't look at Connor without seeing those lipstick stains on his jaw and down his chest, the way his hair was fucked from her fingers. He would have been the most beautiful I've ever seen had those stains been from me and if his hair was messed up by my fingers. But they weren't it, it wasn't, but he’s still so beautiful, and I hate him for it.

And since this is the first time we’ve seen each other since that night, I don’t think it makes things any easier. He’s tried so many times to get me to talk to him. He’s texted, called, he even showed up at the dorms once, but I didn’t let him in. He knocked and asked for me for a good fifteen minutes before he finally caved, realizing that I wasn’t going to let him in now, or ever if my heart would stop trying to control my being.

And now he's looking at me in a way that says "I'm sorry." But I don't know if he's sorry he did it or because he got caught, and I don't really want to know the answer. Because knowing would mean that he would have to explain and I can't let him explain. I can't get hurt again. Especially not by him when he holds my entire heart in his hands and just one misstep from him and it'll be completely shattered.

"So, we uh… we still have to do the interview." Connor says, picking at his fingernails.

I sigh, "I know. That's the last thing, right?"

"Yeah," he nods. "Then we just have to put them in and add a few overlays and the background music."

"I can put the clips in if you want to do the overlays. You're better at layering."

"We could do it together. I think we should both be okay with the ending before we turn it in."

"Fine," I nod. "Should we do the interview now?"

"Oh, um. Yeah, I guess. Outside would probably be better. It's kind of loud in here," he says, fiddling now with the napkin under his cup.

I nod, "Lighting isn’t great here either. Let's go."

The wind is cold, hitting us hard when we walk out of the cafe and I immediately regret leaving my jacket in my car. I wrap my arms around my middle, curing into myself as we walk down the street to the small cluster of trees that I don't really consider a park, but the city does. I don’t realize I’m shivering, curling even more into myself until I feel something heavy covering my shoulders.

“You look cold,” he mutters.

“No, Connor,” I start to protest, but he stops me.

“It’s okay. I’m fine. Promise.”

I sigh, “Thank you,” I mumble before slipping my arms through the sleeves.

It’s difficult to get the camera set up with the uneven ground, but we find a rock that gives us just enough height to keep the tripod from moving too dramatically with the wind. “You ready?” I ask after fixing the settings to accommodate the harsh light the clouds are casting over Connor’s perfect facial features. It’s rude that he can be my whole life - the only thing occupying my thoughts on any given day - and I want so badly to hate him. I want to hate him and I want to be mad at him. But I can’t. I can’t do it. Because he’s sitting there under the tree and even in this light he’s beautiful and I want to kiss him over and over and never stop.

“Y/n? You okay?” he asks.

I blink, bringing myself back to reality. “Yeah. Sorry. Um… we’re recording. Full name?”

“Connor David Brashier. I’m twenty-one, and a junior here at UCLA.”

“What are some of your hobbies?”

“Surfing, filming, playing video games, and... hanging out with you.”

I clear my throat, shaking my head. That answer wasn’t necessary.

“Where do you see yourself in ten years?”

“Ten years?” He nods. “In ten years I see myself still filming. Maybe having actually directed a movie or music video or two. Married, hopefully. Maybe even have a kid or two, or three. Depending of course on who I’m with, if she wants kids or not. You want kids?”

“Connor,” I scold.

“What?” he smiles and my heart flutters. “It’s a general question. You want kids?”

I sigh, “Yeah, someday I might want a couple… Next question. I asked this when we started this project. You said you could see yourself falling in love,” I look down, not wanting to look him in the eyes as he answers. “So, have you ever been in love?”

“I have,” he answers instantly. “I am right now actually, and I’m looking at her right now. And she’s beautiful.”

---

“Is the lighting okay?” I ask, tugging on the sleeves of the jacket he gave me earlier.

“Lighting’s perfect. You’re perfect. Just,” he steps forward and brushes his thumb across my cheekbone. “You had an eyelash.”

I feel myself turning red, and I shiver at the contact. I want to keep him there. I want to grab his hand and keep him against me, but I don’t.

“Ready?”

I nod, “Yeah.”

“Full name?”

“Y/n y/m/n y/l/n.”

We go through the same standard questions I asked him and I know what question is next. I dread answering it.

“Last question.”

“Okay,” I look down at my hands, covered by the long sleeves of his jacket. I’m surrounded by his scent and I want to drown in it, which is how I know what my answer is going to be.

“Have you ever been in love?”

“Yes,” I nod. “I am now. It’s consuming. It drives you. But it stops you too.”

He tilts his head at me. “What do you mean?”

“Suddenly things you used to do alone don’t feel as good as when you do them with that person. And when you’re not with them? It’s tourture. You want to spend every moment with them and you can’t and it sucks. It sucks because they’re not yours.”

He stops recording, I know because when he’s kneeling down in front of me, I don’t see the blinking red light behind his head. “Not yours? Y/n, I’m yours. Utterly and completely.”

“That girl from the other night said otherwise.”

He sighs, “I was hurt. You went out with Shawn. You said no and then you said yes and that hurt, baby. It hurt so much.”

“He told you?” I shake my head, “I didn’t kiss him. We had dinner and I couldn’t stop talking about you. That’s how my date went. That’s why I ended up at your place.”

“But how was I supposed to know that? You wouldn’t talk to me the same after I told you I loved you. You didn’t even tell me about your date. Shawn did.”

“Yes. He called me after he asked. He wanted to know if I was okay with it. And I wasn’t, y/n. I wasn’t but you weren’t mine and I couldn’t make that decision for you. But we’re here now. We’re on the same page. I want you, you want me. What’s the problem here?”

“The problem is that neither of us are relationship material.”

“What do you mean we’re not relationship material? You’ve read more books about relationships than anyone I know.”

“That doesn’t mean anything, Connor!”

“Y/n! I want to be with you. Why are you pushing me away?”

“Because I can’t ever believe this is real if it started as a joke. Or if you’re gonna go out and fuck any girl with boobs at the first sign of trouble. I like,” I stop myself. “I love you, Connor. But this relationship would be built on lies and that’s not what I want.”

“So you’re never going to believe me? No matter how many times I say it? No matter how many nights I spend outside your door, begging you to talk to me? No matter how many times I promise you that it’s only you? That it’ll only ever be you. No matter how many times I tell you that you deserve that romance you read about? No matter how many times I promise to try and give that to you? To be the cheesiest boyfriend known to man. It’s not gonna be enough.”

“I want to believe you, Con. I do. But it’s hard right now. Maybe now just isn’t our time.”

“Then I’ll wait.”

“That’s what you said last time.”

“Y/n. Please. Just… give me one more chance.” His hands find the sides of my face and I hate that I melt into his warm touch.

I sigh, pulling his hands away reluctantly. “I’ll have to think about it.”

He nods, “Take your time. But I can tell you this, I’m not going for anyone else. That night? Nothing else happened. She was kissing me-”

“Connor, don’t.”

“No, I have to make sure you know. You told me that nothing happened with Shawn. I believe you. And I need you to believe me when I tell you that nothing happened. I had her leave after you left. I didn’t want to have sex with her. Brian thought I needed a rebound, just someone to take my mind off you. But it didn’t work. It wasn’t fun being with her. It didn’t help. Baby, you’re the only one I want. I haven’t gotten over the feeling of your lips on mine since it first happened.”

I shake my head, “You have to stop.”

“What?”

“Stop saying things that make me want to kiss you. I can’t kiss you.”

“I give you permission,” he shrugs with a sheepish smile.

I laugh, really laugh. “You’re an idiot.

“But I got you to laugh. That’s a good sign, right?”

I sigh and run my fingers through his hair. “I need time, bub.”

“You called me bub. Is that a good sign?” he asks, hopefully.

I rest my forehead on his. “Connor, please.”

“I want to kiss you,” he mumbles, his lips inching closer to mine.

“I want you to kiss me.” I confirm, closing the distance. I sigh in content, and his tongue roams my mouth. It’s perfect. He’s perfect. And I don’t need the time. But that’s my heart talking. My brain still needs it, which is why I pull back. “A week.”

“A week?”

“That’s what I need. I’ll have an answer for you then.”

He nods, “C’mere.” He kisses me again and I let him, feeling warm, feeling safe in his arms once again.

***

I hope you enjoyed! Please like, reblog, and leave feedback!!

Permanent tag: @soyalimoncada-blog @magcon7280 @homeofpoetry @fallinallincurls @goldenflickerx @myyohmyuohmyy @harry-hollands @enchantingbrowneyedgirl @baroness-alison @lostinmendess @linanilssonfurberg @luvluvxx @mariamuses @shawnieeboyy @divinginfearlessly @mendesficsxbombay @shawnsthighs @zaahidahhh @lordescomeback @shawnandconnor @shawnsblue @turtoix @honestlyimstilllivinginthe90s @gangofhoes @verlaneswiftie13

#connor brashier #connor brashier x reader #connor brashier x y/n #connor brashier imagines #connor brashier imagine #connor brashier fanfiction #connor brashier blurb #living learning and filming

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kissmetwicekissmedeadly · 6 months ago

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Oh Kat :( Out of all of this I'm concerned the most about you writing for others and not for yourself, but I'm willing to see your point. It happens often to me, I daydream a lot and when i catch myself thinking "this would make a good fic" i have to make sure I'm not putting pressure on myself. in a way yeah it's as if you're offering this as a gift to others, like here's whats in my brain, it took me 2 hours to make it so you can experience my thoughts too. and to me the solution to this is, you gotta find something that makes it worth it to post other than the notes and the feedback. for me this is the documentation of these thoughts. because when they're in your head they start to fade with time but when they're on paper you can revisit them in their full glory LMAO yes I'm talking even about a theo smut fic, especially about a theo smut fic. also yeah writing without posting is a thing but if you're like me you wouldn't put in the same effort so...

also the fulfillment of having a collection of something that you carefully constructed, each one bit by bit. my fics are like my children, i love them all even if I've forgotten some of their names oops

i dont want to sound like a philosopher or try to change your mind on something that I'm sure you've already spent enough time thinking on, i just. genuinely hope you're having a healthy approach to this thing. because it's scary to start feeling weird about your hobby to the point where you don't want to do it anymore. i know there's plenty of outside factors and i can only wish you a better job opportunity in the near future, i really really hope things get better for you.

as for the fandom having been more interactive than how it is right now, Ive already talked about this awhile ago but i...don't think so? especially when you say that people arent talking to each other, when that's all I'm seeing on my dash. there's so much going on now, more than ive ever seen before. when i was lurking on the tag back in the early days of ikevamp EN, there were tons of posts every day but those people didn't necessarily talk to each other, they were just co-existing. does anyone remember the ikemen-writers-of-discord or something like that? it was a large writing community that posted under one blog, so many creators listed on there. in my eyes that was a pretty big deal. i was just starting off with my writing and i secretly hoped to get in there one day. now i look back at it, and it turns out the notes they've accumulated are mostly likes. it could be that i stumbled upon the wrong fics for this conclusion, but still, it makes me think that people were a lot more shy back then! whereas now we do so many things to make the community feel warmer. there are tons of challenges, we encourage ocs which is a pretty big thing for prompting interactions between blogs, we're roleplaying like never before, we also have more cybird games so there's always something to talk about... i know people are going to hate me for this but i think this is the best time to be a part of the ikemen fandom on tumblr.it's very easy to fall for nostalgia blues and i miss the early days as well but we shouldn't dwell too much on it right? try talking to people again! maybe you just couldn't mash well with the last one(s) you approached but that shouldn't stop you from trying! and of course don't push yourself either... for this or for writing. kinktober is a serious deal. ive only completed it once. you shouldn't aim to complete it every year :( you're gonna burn out big time and we don't want that

thank you for respecting my choice, Kat. just you wait until i cure my depression and i binge some of your stuff again KJHKFHG

A YEAR IN THE MAKING

You know this BIG project I keep mentioning??

A good amount of you have guessed it, some of you know all about it because I've been bouncing ideas off of you to help me with the thought process.

SALAÌ IS GETTING HIS OWN ROUTE!!!!

Long story short.. it was supposed to be 8-10 chapters. It was going to be a speed run route. It's obvs not a real route it can be quick and not so indepth right? Right?

It's 20 chapters. With 3 side stories and an Episode 0.

There were going to be 4 cgs but... Art is pricey and well... honestly.. his route isn't even canon.

In Salaìs route, you, the mc, meet Salaì as he's painting in town. He's there looking for someone but you don't know who. But you get closer to him, going on little dates.. having no choice but to stay at his place for a night, helping him get his art shown in a gallery...and then it falls apart

I will be posting each chapter separately. There will be 3-4 days between each chapter. I will have a tag list. If you are tagged on this post you are already part of it. If you'd like to be part of it just comment saying so.

Minor details: so he has 3 side stories plus the episode 0...those will not be posted here. I've put so much work into this.. literally started August 25th last year...they will be available on Kofi as the chapters related to them are posted. They will only $1. You don't need these side stories for the main story just like in the game so please don't complain about me putting 4 of these behind a pay wall.

Info on the route itself: I will be staying this once I start posting it but through the story I will be calling him Salaì..but for a good part of it he goes by a different name. It shouldn't be confusing but he does have three names after all. Also I said his route isn't canon, meaning his route does not line up with his actual lore. In no way would Salai chose Mc over Leonardo, and I also don't put all of trauma of his in here bc its not really the focus, and like I said.. not even canon. BUT I AM WILLING TO ANSWER ANY QUESTIONS AT ANY GIVEN TIME. I also have @ask-salai where you can ask questions about it too if you would want HIM to answer and not me.

I REALLY REALLY REALLY HOPE YOU GUYS READ AND INTERACT WITH THIS.

Not trying to be threatening... But if this doesn't do well... I'm not sure if I'll continue writing. This is a years worth of work. Reblogs really do mean a lot to me. I want feedback. I want to know what you guys think.

I still need to proof read it all and doubt check some things but I wanted to get the word out about what I was doing.

@chandeliermichel @kissmetwicekissmedeadly @fang-and-feather @namine-somebodies-nobody @evil-quartett @lokis-laugh @candied-boys @breadmercury @aquagirl1978 @xenokiryu @lulu-the-smol-floof @tako-cafe @floydsteeth @spoopy-fish-writes @weird-profiterole

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thedenofravenpuff · 4 years ago

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Updates on the Health Department

Been a while since I last updated on how things are going.

Last year my pain and fatigue was finally explained with the diagnosis of fibromyalgia, a disturbance in the nervous system that still hasn’t been fully explained to this day, on what it comes of.

I was written up to see an expert, but was half a year’s wait for my appointment. Last week I finally get to meet the specialist and put under an hour of interview to better pinpoint the details on my specific case.

Great doctor, was very professional but also very engaged and caring through the whole talk, and even praised me for already doing my own research and thoughts on my condition to best answer her questions, so the interview didn’t had to go over time to be completed.

After that was an hour of lecturing me about the conclusion from the interview, on the details for my case of fibromyalgia specifically. She was very thorough and explained in great detail which direction we would be going for treatment and why, including telling me what would not be done and why.

Different options were given for me to consider and then we’ll work from there.

New waiting lists to see a physiotherapist and a psychologist, both specialized in the field of BDS (Bodily Distress Syndrome) that’s the umbrella that covers things like fibromyalgia too.

A strict description of how to change my daily life and how long I’m to expect to go as soft as possible with hope that my body will recover enough to start improving again. Aim is to keep me working at my job still, but with more focus on my limits than what I’ve managed so far.

Gonna talk to my GP to get on part time sick leave, to cut my daily hours without losing my full wage, to see less everyday at work might keep me active without suffering my the lash back of my body collapsing from fatigue. If it works we’ll have a good case to convince the state to put me on the flexjob program, instead of sick leave, to make it more easy for my workplace to work around.

Aim is to cut down my full sick days by keep my active enough while rested more than I usually allow myself. And remove the stress from worrying about my job security. Denmark is very focused on keeping people with chronic illness or handicaps on the job market because it shows a better effect on the health in the long run, rather than just leave people with conditions stuck at home doing nothing.

I’m told that I should expect the full course of treatment to take at least 1-2 years if done right. 50% usually feel a better life quality and 25% even gets better to meet the normal for those not dealing with chronic illness. That’ll be the aim, joining those numbers and get a good life going. Maybe even feel cured one day, just from balancing my body right.

But only time will tell, only just started. And it’s going to be slow. I had already slowed down but the specialist made it clear I hadn’t slowed down enough, why I kept having more and more sickdays.

I’ve sat down with my boss at work to insure my workplace are informed on what my needs are and what tools they’ll have access to too, to not suffer a loss from my inability to work full time. Luckily he’s made it very clear that the company recognizes they rather keep me than let me go for inconvenience. I’m one of the most experienced member of our department with the most training in our specific field, and the one with most patience to train up new workers. So that’s a nice boost to know they still see me as valuable enough to keep.

Seeing me taken aside to talk to the boss, a coworker afterwards all worried took me aside to ask if it had been a talk about getting fired. That absolute relief on his face when I assured it was the other way around, me having a talk on the conditions to keep me working, was heart warming. To know boss and coworkers alike just want to keep me even if I can’t keep up the pace anymore that I used to.

Very welcome boosts to my self esteem and positive thinking, which I’ll need to continue battling this illness. Is not going to turn over night, I have a battle ahead of me of just trying to rewire my own way of thinking to stop pushing myself too hard.

I just hope to get enough energy back that I can draw more consistently again. Just these last couple of days I’ve had enough fatigue to make it too difficult to hold a pencil steady long enough to draw a proper piece. I’m very eager whenever I have energy long enough to draw a full piece, as art as my hobby means so much to me.

Why I still don’t open for commissions to new clients, it would just make me stress myself unnecessarily if I can’t get to the wanted productivity.

But enough rambling for now, already written a wall of text as is.

Been a long journey with still plenty more ahead of me to come.

Thanks for getting this far in this long tangent on my health X3;

#PuffBlog #Update #Status #Health #Fibromyalgia #FM #Bodily Distress Syndrome #BDS

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twilitty · 4 years ago

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Moonlit ch.1

This is the first chapter in my new fic Moonlit, it will be posted on Tumblr, ao3, and ffnet. New chapters uploaded every week and a half. Message/comment to be added to my tag list.

3k words

big thank you to my beta reader @effervescentlyirrevocable who has given me the absolute best criticism and helped make this chapter so beautiful :)

Bella moves to Forks Washington, her first week is uneventful. This fic has aged up characters, making them all at entry-college level ages.

Chapter One

My senses are sharper in Forks than they were in Phoenix, I’ve only been here a handful of days yet everything seemed brighter, louder, more alive than my past home. There was something here for me, something that made me feel more alert than I have in years.

The sound of heavy rain slowly pulls me out of my restless sleep, an elbow is thrown across my eyes in an attempt to keep the real world at bay. It’s always raining, the mist layering the ground never abandons its post, and the chilly air seemingly lasts indefinitely. The rainy town of Forks Washington sooner resembles my personal hell than it does a sleepy old town. The forest that borders the town at each cardinal point is layered in green moss, damp dirt, and an endless supply of fresh animal tracks. I’d moved to Forks only a week ago, the sum of which was spent unpacking dreadfully thin clothing and acquainting myself with the few stores and public access areas the town has to offer.

My father, Charlie, has had little to do with this process apart from moral support and the occasional bag of fast food that he’s picked up while on shift. Charlie is the town's police chief, a job that both seems ill-needed and also unbearably boring. How much crime can be committed in a town of fewer than ten thousand citizens? Other than the odd tag on a school building or bush party, what does his shift consist of? I have yet to bring my insulting opinions on his career to his attention, and likely will never do so. He’s a good man with a heart of gold and a passion for the judicial system, which is ever-present in his TV browsing as he cruises through endless episodes of Law & Order.

I’m not a big TV person, even back home in Phoenix, I preferred reading to the television. Perhaps this was related to my mother’s endless stack of yoga DVD’s that seemed to consume our viewing; her in a downward dog position gossiping about her latest advancements at her newest club membership, me sitting on the couch finishing a craft for her so she won’t be late submitting it. My favourite of her crafts was embroidery, one month I embroidered nearly two hundred dandelions on a pair of jeans for her. She gave them to the club administrator as an apology before she quit.

Regardless, at night when the TV is blaring the intro theme to a cop show, I am curled in bed with a book under my nose and headphones in my ears. Blocking out the rain is a full-time chore.

This morning is a particularly eventful morning, not because of any specific events, but rather the events that will be set into motion because of this morning. Today is the first day of my online college courses. I’m currently enrolled in an undeclared major. My hope is that the three courses I’m taking this spring term will help me decide on what I want to do in the future.

Charlie had given me a new laptop upon my arrival in Forks, a current model with modest upgrades to “enhance my academic experience”. Or at least that’s what the box boasted. I am not entirely convinced that a larger memory will miraculously cure me of my educational despise. High school was tortuous, I had few friends and fewer interests outside of my mother’s hobbies. I had no extra-curricular activities that were not synonymous with financial responsibilities. The monthly budget book was mine to care for, as was the constant, intrusive phone calls of the bank when my mother got too engaged in a store. She’s a gullible woman if nothing else. If a store clerk tells her a blouse suits her figure, she’ll purchase ten colours in the article along with two in a size lower just in case she finally loses the ten pounds she’s been trying to shed.

My eyes have barely opened, the down of my forearm just a fraction away from my pupil when Charlie pounds against my door. You’d imagine I was fostering a fugitive in here with the noise he’s making, but this is just the way my father is, loud noises and soft voices. I wonder, idly, if perhaps he has minor hearing loss from spending so much time around guns.

“I’m up!” I call out, my voice is thin and calloused with morning sleep. I clear my throat as the knocking cuts off, “Good morning, Dad.” Charlie doesn’t like me calling him Charlie.

“Morning, Bells,” he calls back through the door, quiet enough to not be taken as aggressive yet loud enough to sound authoritative. He is a father, my father, at heart. He pauses, and it’s as if I can hear the mental gears shifting in his mind. He hasn’t had to be a father since I was a baby, after that Renee was the parent. Charlie was the summer distraction. “Don’t be late for school.” I grunt a response, reaching for the alarm clock on my nightstand and groaning at the early hour of the morning. Barely eight, class doesn’t officially start until noon. I guess there’s nothing wrong with logging in early, although I’d much rather catch up on the sleep I’ve lost to the thunderous storms we’ve been experiencing recently.

As if he could sense my intentions, Charlie knocks against my door again. “Bella, I mean it. You didn’t come here to slack off, now.” No, I think nastily, I came here for peace and quiet.

Between unpacking my belongings and touring the town, I’ve developed a routine in my new living situation. Charlie is fond of my company, enjoying having a woman in the house outside of his ex-wife, my mother and ex-roommate. Although, his fondness of my presence does not directly translate to time spent together. He makes me breakfast, occasionally placing it in the oven to keep warm, and then immediately heads off to his family that is the Forks police station. We meet again for lunch, depending on our individual plans for the day, and then reunite again just in time for dinner. Food really is the great American pastime.

I dress in jeans and a light blue sweater that smells mysteriously of mildew although it’s a recent purchase and has yet to be worn outdoors. I suppose the rain permeates every available space, closed windows be damned. My socks are tall and I have to roll my jeans up at the bottoms to accommodate for the thick, high fabric of them. It’s a trick Charlie taught me for wearing rain boots, the higher the socks the less likely they are to run down to your toes as you walk. Immediately after that trick was taught I went to the nearest hiking store and purchased a pair of rain boots. My first pair of rain boots at nineteen years of age. Unfathomable yet ironic considering my lineage marks back to the wettest town in the continental US. My ancestors roll in their graves every time I step outdoors and forget a jacket or umbrella, I’m sure of it.

Charlie is waiting for me downstairs, both a surprise and unwelcome presence. I had a battered copy of Dorian Gray under my arm, I was expecting philosophy and moral ambiguity, not idle conversation. Before the chief notices my book, I slide it over the back of the couch and enter the kitchen with a polite smile. There’s bacon frying on the stovetop, the police chief is dressed in uniform already, but has a stained white apron tied around his neck. “Dad?”

“Oh,” he turns around and gives me a tight smile, “Excited for your big day?” You’d imagine it’s my first day of preschool with the amount of enthusiasm he’s trying to keep hidden from me, not my first day of online school. I don’t say anything to dampen his mood, I’m glad he’s excited about something. His life is repetitive, if my existence here proves to be no more useful than just disrupting his schedule, it will still be a success.

“Yeah, I guess.” He turns back to the bacon and shifts it around quickly, the grease snapping up at him. If it burns him he doesn’t show it, just maintains the stiff-backed posture of a respectable police officer cooking his daughter breakfast. “I’ve gotta ask, what’s up with the apron?” I stifle a giggle behind a bite of the toast that’s sitting in the middle of the small table. He shakes his head in faux annoyance.

Charlie takes the pan off the hot element, sliding the bacon onto two plates and pouring the grease into an open can. The second trick he taught me since arriving here: never pour grease down the drain.

“I’m in uniform, it would be disrespectful to the badge to stain it.” He slides a plate of bacon in front of me, sitting down in his designated seat across the table. “Besides,” he takes a sip of coffee from his to-go mug. “Can you imagine walking into a police station smelling of fried pig?”

Breakfast ends quickly. We each eat a piece of toast, Charlie stuffing a second piece into a plastic bag “for later” and heading out the door. I still have half a plate of bacon in front of me after he leaves, the maple glaze filling the small kitchen with its smell.

After my Mom and Charlie got married, Renee redecorated much of the house. Her lace curtains still hang in the master bedroom window, constantly drawn closed. The rest of the house has been minorly updated with age, the TV got bigger, the couch more comfortable, new bed linens and even newer rocking chairs on the porch. I had asked Charlie if they were Moms when I first came up to the house a week ago.

They were rocking gently in the wind, the wood seemed to be polished as it shined in what little light filtered through the depressive clouds. They were sitting side by side, matching pillows on them both, a coffee table in the middle with a stack of coasters. It was an old person's porch, where husband and wife would sit all grey and wrinkled, waving at the neighbourhood kids as the bus dropped them off from school. I could almost picture Charlie and Renee sitting there, her knitting a scarf and him content to just watch her and the scenery.

He informed me that they were relatively new, a purchase from a shop down on the Reservation. We haven’t spoken about them since, but I wonder if perhaps he wishes he had someone to sit out there with him.

I spend the morning before class doing odd chores around the house. It’s nice living at Charlie’s, nicer than I had expected it to be. I’m not a fan of the weather or the fact that I currently have no social life, but it’s nice to just sit. I throw my laundry in the wash and manage to get the kitchen cleaned up with just enough time left over to sit on the couch and read a chapter of my book before class.

School has never been my strong suit. That’s not to say I get poor marks or intentionally skip classes, I just never found it as fulfilling as my peers seemed to. I never woke up and looked forward to the social or academic aspect of high school. Perhaps this contributed to me postponing my college experience and only starting it now when I should already be a year into my program.

When I log into my schools online database and click on my first class, Social Psychology 1001, I’m immediately transported to a screen filled with windows and the faces of my classmates. “Hello, class!” The professor's voice calls out over my computer. Perhaps online school won’t be my strong suit either.

Class ends and the next one starts, and I get through all three classes and an hour's worth of homework by the time Charlie pops in for dinner.

“Hey, Bells,” He calls as he opens the front door. I can hear him from where I sit in the kitchen, hanging his gun belt up by the front door and kicking his boots off into a heap on the floor. I imagine Mom back in Phoenix, walking into the house with arms full of bags and tossing her flip flops onto her pile of shoes beside the coatrack she used for purses. Some things won’t ever change.

“How was work?” I ask. He pauses to poke his head into the kitchen, moustache moving as he chews on his lip. I can’t remember when Charlie initially grew out his moustache, just that one summer I arrived and thought could he look more like a cop?

“Good, good, just some meetings. New family moving into town, all foster kids around your age.” He takes pause, staring off into some middle ground in the hallway as if deep in thought. His eyebrows furrow, “Don’t want any trouble makers coming in, but the father seems nice. Respectable.”

“That’s nice,” I contribute conversationally. Charlie and I rarely have material conversations, always just idle talk of the weather or what's for dinner. I’m not entirely sure how to approach this topic, which clearly seems to be occupying his mind.

“Yeah, he’s a doctor.” He grins at this, toothy and a little crooked to the right side. A pang of embarrassment settles in my chest before he speaks, as if knowing where this will turn. “Perfect for you, considering how often your clumsiness-” I wave a hand over my face, grimacing at his words. “Don’t speak it into existence,” I mutter with a half-hearted plea underlying my words. He chuckles, disappearing up the stairs.

I hear the shower turn on after a few minutes of him fumbling around, presumably trying to get undressed. I’m sure once he’s showered and in sweatpants it’ll be twenty questions about my day of school. I’m not sure I have the heart to break the truth to him: it absolutely sucked.

The material was interesting enough, psychology has always been close to my heart. I loved the idea of people being more than their actions and thoughts, that there was something making them say that or something making them act that way. Perhaps this was yet another symptom of having Renee for a mother.

I sit at the kitchen table for a moment longer, my computer is closed in front of me and my pencil case- dreadfully unnecessary with school being online-sits closed and untouched. I haven’t made any friends in my classes, not that I had expected to. Twelve years of public school and no friend group to show for it, just a few texts every couple of weeks. Why would I have believed college, and an online college at that, would be any better?

Having enough with my thoughts, I get up from the table and pack my things into my bag. I’ve completed enough work for today, the rest of the evening I’ll spend either with Charlie or in my room. I’d rather not be nose deep in pdf textbooks and youtube videos constituting as follow-up lectures, I’ve had enough of that today. As if sensing the immediacy of my departure from the kitchen, the shower cuts off and I hear the bathroom door squeak open. For a man who, until recently, lived alone with too much free time, you’d imagine he’d have taken better care of the house. Nearly every door, except my own, creaks open and closed. I made sure to oil my hinges nearly immediately after moving in, I didn’t want Charlie to wake up every time I sneak downstairs for a comfort snack or warm glass of milk to help me sleep. He’s lived alone for nearly twenty years, he doesn’t need his sleep schedule disrupted now.

“The game is on in-” Charlie pauses as if double-checking the times mentally, “- an hour and a half. Are you interested?” He’s calling from up the stairs. I wonder if he truly wants me to watch the game with him, whatever sport it may be, or if he’s only being polite.

“Uh, I was just going to organize my room right now and then maybe make something for dinner,” I say in response. The floors don’t make a noise and I know he’s heard me, but he doesn’t respond. A lump forms in my throat, perhaps he really did want to watch with me.

“That’s fine, but if you want we can order in?” The lump passes and I convince myself that there is no reason to avoid the TV. It’s not like I’ll be a disruption, if I get bored I can read on the couch. I’ve only watched TV with Charlie on a few occasions since my move here, and each time I strategically saved my questions for the commercial breaks.

“Sure! That works.” The floorboards creak and I hear him retreat into his room, the door closing with a pitiful squeak.

We eat pizza on the couch, a large meat-lover for the carnivorous father and a small vegetarian with extra mushrooms for the daughter who cares about her cardiovascular health. We eat slowly, occasionally Charlie will make a face at the television or mumble something under his breath, but other than that we’re quiet. The sport turns out to be baseball and I recall a few of the basic rules from the tragic gym classes of my past. It’s not disastrous in any way, and surprisingly I don’t get bored. There is something relaxing about the repetitive nature of the game.

After the game ends we box up the remaining slices and put them in the fridge to be eaten tomorrow, say good night, and go our separate ways at the top of the stairs.

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a-blue-secret · 4 years ago

Text

CHAPTER XXIV

BACK TO MASTERLIST

Chapter XXIII | Chapter XXIV | Chapter XXV

GENRES: royal au; fantasy au; magic au; friends-to-enemies-to-lovers; king!beomgyu, vizier!taehyun

PAIRING: taegyu

WARNINGS: swearing

WORD COUNT: 4.8k+

SUMMARY: Best friends turned enemies, Kang Taehyun has managed to trick Choi Beomgyu into his service, and to rule for a year and a day, until his youngest brother would be old enough to take the throne. Choi Beomgyu has no intention of being obedient however, and tries to thwart Taehyun’s orders at every turn. With a growing amount of distrust and lies within the court, will Taehyun manage to keep the kingdom of Gojongja from falling apart?

In the days after that, Taehyun could feel that everything he did had a slightly sorrowful quality to it. He opened the curtains, smiling sadly even as the sun shone bright as anything. He secured the cufflinks in his sleeves, sighing down at them even though they were perfectly polished. He nodded his head to Jungwon as he left the room, but the action felt dejected. His days felt darker and sadder now, since he knew what was going to happen to Beomgyu.

It was strange. Taehyun didn’t think he was a mopey sort of person, and yet here he was, almost tearing up when he saw the familiar blue-and-silver Choi crest hanging from a wall. He didn’t know how to get rid of this feeling. Hell, he didn’t even exactly know what it was.

He just felt… hopeless. He knew what was going to happen to Beomgyu, now, and there was no way to stop it. And it hurt. He knew that he was doomed to watch as the person he loved turned into something unrecognisable. Taehyun felt powerless to do anything about it.

But despite how miserable he felt, he still had important things he needed to do, even if he didn’t want to do them. And so Taehyun went about his duties throughout the week, and if anyone noticed that he spoke in a decidedly mournful tone and walked around with strangely woeful steps, then they didn’t say anything about it.

.・゜-: ✧ :-　　

“Royal Physician Kim Seokjin is here to see you,” Jungwon said. Taehyun looked up dazedly, spinning a quill in his hand.

“Hm? Oh right, let him in,” Taehyun said. Jungwon immediately complied, and Seokjin stepped into the room, giving a bow to the vizier before sitting in the chair in front of Taehyun’s desk.

“You wanted to see me?” Seokjin said.

Taehyun blinked blankly at him, before quickly snapping back into the present, nodding his head. “Right, right. I did.” He scratched the back of his neck with his fingernails in the way he did when he was distracted or nervous, clearing his throat. “Um, could you maybe stop searching for someone willing to give the cure?”

Seokjin raised an eyebrow, confused. “Pardon?”

“Like, call off the search for the Aconitum cure. Stop it. Halt the mission. Drop the quest, whatever. Just don’t do it anymore. Can you do that?”

“I… I suppose I could,” Seokjin said, nodding his head slowly. “Alright. I can do that.”

Taehyun nodded, lips curving into an absent-minded smile. “Thank you.” He looked back down at the papers on his desk, shuffling them together, not paying attention to the fact that some of the documents were upside down. Seokjin noticed how distracted the vizier was, but decided not to comment on it.

“May I ask why?”

“Huh?”

“Why would you like me to stop searching for someone who is willing to give the Aconitum cure?” Seokjin clarified patiently, waiting as Taehyun gradually fazed back into the conversation.

“Oh. Because it’s… it’s pointless to pursue a cure anymore. That’s all.”

Seokjin frowned softly, a look of concern on his face. “It’s never too late, you know,” he said gently. “You shouldn’t lose hope.”

“No, no, it’s not that,” Taehyun said, giving a sigh. “I haven’t given up hope.” He paused. Well, he actually had given up hope, but not about the Aconitum cure. “It’s just…” He sighed again. “It’s complicated.”

The Physician gave a calm smile. “Every formidable poison or spell has a cure: something to reverse its effects. It’s out there, somewhere, and you should not lose hope in finding it. Sometimes it just takes the right amount of determination to find it.”

Taehyun looked up slowly, taking in Seokjin’s words. Seokjin smiled again, his eyes kind. Taehyun stared at the Physician for a few long moments.

“Giving up is the quickest and surest route to failing,” Seokjin said. “Giving up and losing hope are the worst things to do. But if you hang in there, and believe there can be a way out, anything is possible.”

Taehyun mouthed those words quietly to himself, still staring wide-eyed at Seokjin.

Anything is possible… Taehyun smiled sadly at the Physician, looking back down at the desk. He turned some of the documents the right way up, talking in a soft tone. “Perhaps in some scenarios, but not now. There’s very little I can do.”

Seokjin gave a small smile back, standing up. He bowed his head. “Very well. If you are adamant about calling off the search for the cure, then I shall abide by your wishes. I’ll see myself out.”

Taehyun nodded. “Have a nice day,” he said monotonously, his gaze unfocused as Seokjin left the room.

The door clicked shut, and Taehyun blinked rapidly. He gave a sigh, looking down at the parchments in his hands. He was filing away the documents when he paused, thinking about what Seokjin had said.

Every formidable poison or spell has a cure. If that was true… it wouldn’t hurt to find out whether Beomgyu’s curse had a cure, would it? Taehyun thought about it for a second, before standing up. Him . He might know the cure. But where could Taehyun find him?

.・゜-: ✧ :-　　

Strangely, Taehyun knew exactly where Soobin would be. He was in the Palace Gardens, reading peacefully on a bench between two bushes. Seeing the Lord stirred Taehyun out of his dampened, dull state, and his eyes sparked back into life with every step he took towards Soobin. Taehyun strode up to him and stood right in front of him, arms crossed.

“Tell me the cure.”

Soobin smiled softly down at his book, before snapping it shut to grin amiably up at Taehyun. “There is none.”

Taehyun blinked, taken aback by the abrupt response. “Nonsense. Every curse or poison or spell or whatever has a drawback. A cure which reverses the effects. Tell me it.”

“There isn’t any,” Soobin replied calmly, the pleasant smile still on his lips. His dimples deepened as he smiled wider. “All happenings of this curse have ended with a success for us. As far as we know, there is no way to ‘cure’ this curse, as you say.”

“Surely there is. I don’t believe you.”

“You can not believe me all you like, but it’s true. Even if there was a way to break the curse, do you really think I would tell you?”

“Well, yeah,” Taehyun said. “So that you can dangle the cure right in front of my nose, thinking that I won’t be able to get it. But then I’ll figure out a way to get the cure anyway, and laugh in your face.” He leaned down urgently. “Is it the flowers? The ones that you make? Are they the cure?”

Soobin chuckled. “Nice idea, but no. They’re just a hobby, inspired by my spy name. They have nothing to do with the curse.”

Taehyun glared, but before he could say anything Soobin suddenly stood up, his head colliding with Taehyun’s nose. The vizier jerked back, hand over his nose, as Soobin bowed, brown eyes alight with mirth.

“I’m afraid I have somewhere to be now,” Soobin said.

Taehyun hissed. “You could at least apologise for hitting me in the nose. Jerk.”

Soobin raised an eyebrow amusedly. “You didn’t apologise for the bruise on my jaw. Do you know how much concealer I had to put on to mask it?”

Taehyun couldn’t help the grin at that, though his eyes were still watering as he held onto his nose. “Served you right.”

Soobin simply smiled. “Well, I’ll be off now.”

And he walked away, book still on the bench. A Children’s Guide to Gojongja History, With Pictures , the title read. Taehyun glared down at the book, kicking it whilst muttering curses at its owner. The book bounced off the bench, pages fluttering open to land on a drawing… of a monster. The very same monster which Soobin had said Beomgyu would turn into. The drawing only made Taehyun angrier instead of sadder, and he swore loudly, stamping on the picture before storming off.

.・゜-: ✧ :-　　

Taehyun pushed open the ivy-covered door, before promptly walking over to sit down on the swing, swinging his feet like an angry child. His head was still swirling with furious, incoherent thoughts. But then, just as quick as his burst of energy had come, the anger drained out of him, and he leaned his head against the swing rope, sad and limp again. Taehyun rubbed his eyes, sighing. Oddly, he felt… lonely. He couldn’t bring himself to visit Beomgyu, not after he knew what was going to happen to him. He couldn’t visit the two Aruyeonans, because they were busy planning a heist or whatever. He had no one to talk to about how he felt. And while Taehyun was used to being alone, he found that he didn’t really like being lonely. But… while he may not have had a person to talk to, he realised he had something else.

He glanced around the garden, feeling much calmer in the presence of the garden. He slowed his breathing, relaxing his body, as he honed his senses into the nature around him. Gradually, he began to hear the buzz of chatter coming from all the plants, and the calm, comforting presence of the old elm tree.

“Tree?” Taehyun said unsurely. He heard the elm chuckle, and his face lit up into a smile.

‘Hello, Kang Taehyun. You made quite the entrance when you came in, I have to say.’

Taehyun gave a soft laugh. “Yeah, I was really mad about something.”

‘Would you like to talk about it?’

The elm spoke in a gentle, neutral voice, neither encouraging nor discouraging Taehyun to talk. It was nice to feel that someone was willing to hear him out, but also willing to just be there. So naturally, Taehyun told the tree everything.

‘Oh dear,’ the elm said, after Taehyun had finished talking. ‘I never would have thought that would happen.’

“You and me both,” Taehyun sighed, swinging his feet. “And I almost lost hope, you know. But I realised that it was foolish to lose hope, because that’s like giving up. And if I give up I’m admitting defeat to Soobin.” He clenched the ropes of the swing tight. “And there’s no way I’m admitting defeat to Soobin.”

He heard the elm give a proud laugh. ‘That’s my boy. Never admit defeat unless all hope is lost.’ The tree paused. ‘Though it does sound to me like your hope is very little.’

“I know,” the vizier said. “I’m sure there has to be some way to break the curse, but Soobin won’t tell me it.”

‘He could be telling the truth, however. There have only been five cases of such a beast, correct? And all five times, the beast was killed by the people of the Kingdom. So he won’t know the cure.’

Taehyun bit his lip. “That’s true,” he admitted. “That’s true.” He scratched the back of his neck distractedly. “Then that means the only way to not kill Beomgyu is to keep him alive as a monster. An insane monster.”

A heavy silence hung over the garden, with even the wind dying down to a hush at Taehyun’s words.

But eventually, the elm spoke again, in its gentle voice. ‘Let’s not think of such depressing things. Perhaps you will be able to communicate with him. In his monster form, would he be able to understand the predicament he’s in? Perhaps he would be able to tell you.’

Taehyun frowned, confused, before widening his eyes as he realised what the elm was saying. “I can communicate with other things as well?”

‘Well, yes. You can communicate with anything.’

“As in, everything everything?” Taehyun asked. “Like… I could communicate with the swing here?”

‘I suppose in theory, you could. I’m not sure what the swing would have to say, though.’

“But why did I talk to nature first then?” Taehyun asked. “I’m sure I’ve asked this question already, but why?”

‘Because of your closer connection with nature,’ the elm replied. ‘You are more in tune with the natural world, since you have the ability to manipulate it. The stronger your connection is with something, the more likely you are to be able to communicate with it.’

“Does that mean… does that mean I’ll be able to communicate with Beomgyu easily?” Taehyun said. “Because I have a strong relationship with him.”

‘Well, most likely. I have heard very little about the people of the Jeo clan, but I suppose that would count as a connection.’

Taehyun nodded. “Okay.” He swung his feet again, hands clutching the swing ropes. It was quiet but also busy in the garden, with the flowers chattering softly and the butterflies giggling with the wind. Taehyun felt himself relax, a soft smile on his face. He opened his hand, palm facing the sky, and a pink-tipped lotus flower unfurled its petals in his hand.

‘Lotus flowers, I see. You must be feeling at peace.’

Taehyun smiled at the flower, placing it on the ground where it shrivelled away. “Yeah, I guess I am.”

‘Have you visited Beomgyu at all, after you found out what was going to happen to him?’

“I…” Taehyun hesitated, and shook his head. “No. I can’t. It hurts too much.”

The elm was quiet. ‘I imagine it’s hurting him just as much, too. It has been three days, Taehyun. He must be feeling quite lonely.’

Taehyun bit his lip, then gave a sigh. He scratched the back of his neck absent-mindedly. He hadn’t thought about that. He didn’t want Beomgyu to feel lonely or hurt. “Oh… you’re right. If I were in his place, I’d feel lonely too. I’ll go see Beomgyu, then. I don’t want him to feel sad. Thank you for letting me talk to you, tree.”

Taehyun gave a small smile, waving at the tree before leaving the garden. The elm sighed fondly as the ivy door shut, Taehyun’s footsteps retreating from the secret garden.

‘No matter how old you get, you’re still my little Tyun. You’re welcome to talk to me at any time.’

.・゜-: ✧

“Beomie?” Taehyun said softly, peering into the room. “Hello, love.”

Beomgyu turned his head, giving Taehyun a sad smile. He pointed to his mouth, and then shook his head.

“Can you not speak?” Taehyun asked concernedly.

Beomgyu opened his mouth and, with some difficulty, forced out a few words. “Not very well.”

Taehyun nodded in understanding, coming to sit down on the chair by Beomgyu’s bed. “I’m sorry I haven’t come to see you these past few days. I had some things I needed to take care of in the court. Sorry it took me so long to come, love.”

Beomgyu just beamed at him, as if to say, ‘As long as you’re here now, that’s all that matters’ . Taehyun smiled back. Beomgyu’s grin both warmed him and hurt him at the same time. How many days did they have left, until Beomgyu turned? Would he ever get to see Beomgyu smile again? He may not even smile at Taehyun anymore. He might not even recognise Taehyun anymore. Taehyun’s smile wavered, but he kept it firmly in place, refusing to let it slip.

“Have you been okay, Beomgyu? Do you need anything?”

In answer, Beomgyu started wriggling around, trying to throw off the sheets.

Taehyun pushed the covers back down. “No, no, love, stay still. You’re too weak to move. You shouldn’t try to overexert yourself.”

Beomgyu pouted sadly, but sank back into the cushions.

“How has your day been, love?” Taehyun asked softly, holding onto one of Beomgyu’s hands. Beomgyu lifted his other hand, and made a thumbs-down sign.

“Bad,” he croaked.

Taehyun couldn’t help but smile at how adorable he looked. “Can I ask why?”

Beomgyu licked his lips, and opened his mouth several times to try and form words. “Because you weren’t here.”

Taehyun’s heart melted sadly at that. Being around this sick Beomgyu made him wonder whether the rabid Beomgyu would have been a better alternative. This tired, weak Beomgyu made him sad, because Beomgyu was rarely ever tired and weak.

He kissed the back of Beomgyu’s hand. “I’m sorry, love,” he said. “I wish I could be with you all the time, but this Kingdom isn’t going to run itself.”

Beomgyu sighed, and Taehyun sighed too. But then he plastered a smile on his face, trying to lighten the mood.

“Well, it seems that, since you can’t talk that well, I’m going to have to be the talkative one for now. Would you like to hear about how my day went?”

Beomgyu gave a small smile, appreciating Taehyun’s efforts to make everything seem brighter, and nodded. Taehyun immediately began to talk about what he’d been up to that day, detailing how easy it had been to talk to the new council, describing the absolute mess that was their ballroom while the cracked marble floor was being torn up and replaced with the new stone slabs, and recounting the strange story he’d heard from one of the palace servants.

By the end of it, his throat hurt from how long he’d been talking for, but Beomgyu’s happy smile made up for all of his pain.

Taehyun rubbed his thumb over the back of Beomgyu’s hand. “So that’s how my day went,” he said. “Pretty eventful, am I right?”

Beomgyu began to nod his head, before he suddenly wrenched his hand out of Taehyun’s covering his mouth as he coughed. Taehyun instantly handed him one of his cream handkerchiefs. Beomgyu coughed painfully for several more seconds, body heaving with the force of the action, before he wiped his mouth with a handkerchief, folding it up quickly. But Taehyun still managed to glimpse the dark stain of blood against the pale cloth, and he winced at the sight.

“Beomgyu… have your coughs gotten worse?” Taehyun asked softly, taking the handkerchief from Beomgyu and throwing it in the bin. Beomgyu nodded, looking even weaker after his coughing fit. Taehyun sat down, tracing his finger over Beomgyu’s palm. “Oh, love…” he sighed.

But then Beomgyu tried to wriggle out of the covers again and Taehyun immediately stood up.

“No, lie down,” Taehyun said, pushing Beomgyu back down onto the bed. “Why do you keep trying to get up, anyway? You know you’re unwell. No– lie down. Down.” He patted the covers firmly, tucking Beomgyu resolutely into place.

Beomgyu sighed, resting his head back onto the pillows. He swallowed several times, before letting out a hoarse croak. “I just feel like I need to move,” he managed to say. Taehyun frowned at that, sitting back down again beside Beomgyu.

“If you can barely talk, I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to move. Besides, you look awful. No offence, but you do. I don’t think that I’ll feel good about letting you get up.”

Truth be told, Beomgyu really did look terrible. In those past few days, he’d lost a scary amount of weight, since he hadn’t had any strength to eat. The dark purple around his eyes and lips had gotten even darker, and he could barely say a word without his voice scratching like sandpaper.

Beomgyu didn’t say anything, turning his head to look at Taehyun with sad eyes. It made Taehyun feel incredibly sad to see those eyes: while they weren’t cold, nor emotionless, they were tired, and in pain, and it hurt to see so much pain in the eyes of someone he loved.

“I wish I could kiss you better,” Taehyun murmured, bringing Beomgyu’s cold hand to his cheek. “But I don’t want you to lose your breath and suffocate.”

Beomgyu gave a weak laugh, croaking out a few words. “That won’t happen.”

The both of them knew that it was highly likely, though. With how weak Beomgyu’s respiratory system was, it wasn’t completely unheard of for him to suddenly start choking on air; they’d had to call the doctor on more than one occasion because of this.

Beomgyu continued to look at him sadly, but Taehyun managed to muster a small smile, placing a soft kiss to the corner of Beomgyu’s lips.

“You should probably rest. Look, the sun’s going down already. I’ll come back tomorrow, okay?”

Beomgyu nodded, sheets rustling as he did so. Taehyun rose from the chair, and Beomgyu’s eyes followed the action. He clung onto Taehyun’s hand, not wanting to let go just yet.

“I love you?”

The words were scratchy, but the emotions were gentle and soft. Taehyun smiled again: a genuine smile this time, replying to the question with his confirmation.

“I love you.”

Beomgyu tugged on his wrist weakly, and Taehyun leaned down obediently. Beomgyu strained forward, bringing his lips close to Taehyun’s ear.

In a soft, low voice, he whispered, “Thank you for loving me."

The words tickled his ear, sending a small thrill through Taehyun’s body: but not a good one. He sucked in a breath sharply, but managed to give a smile. Beomgyu smiled back, dropping his hand.

Taehyun left the room quickly and quietly, glancing back one last time at the King, who was already dozing off. Taehyun couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face, closing the door softly.

Out in the hallway, he nodded his head towards Jisung, before walking away, the smile fading from his lips. On the way back to his chambers, he stumbled on unsteady legs. He leaned against the wall, breathing shakily.

Those words had sounded like a goodbye.

.・゜-: ✧ :-　　

The next morning, Beomgyu awoke with the sun. As the sunlight began to filter through his open curtains, he stirred from his sleep. It took several more minutes for him to be able to force his eyes open, however, because of how weak his body felt. He hacked out a harsh cough, eyes watering a little. He gave a sigh, sinking down into his cushions.

Beomgyu looked around the room, squinting slightly at the sunlight. That day, he felt even more restless than usual. While the urge to get up was normally just a small, annoying feeling at the back of his mind, today it was impossible to ignore. With some difficulty, he managed to sit up in the bed. He peered over the edge of the bed, analysing how tricky it could be to get to the floor. Beomgyu gave a sigh. It was going to be incredibly hard.

As he tried to grab the sheets, his fingers would just weakly pat the cloth, unable to have any sort of grip. He gritted his teeth in annoyance, concentrating until he managed to pull off the covers. Once the covers were pulled off, his legs exposed to the air, he paused. Why was he doing this? If Taehyun found out, he’d probably be mad. No– he’d be sad, Beomgyu corrected himself. He’d seen Taehyun’s eyes become sadder and sadder the longer Beomgyu’s illness had gone on for. If Taehyun were to find out that he’d tried to leave his room, he’d be really, really sad.

And a sad Taehyun was, in Beomgyu’s opinion, worse than a mad Taehyun.

That thought was almost enough to get Beomgyu to stop. But the relentless urge to get out of the palace surged back in full force, and Beomgyu coughed again, doubling over from the strength of his cough. Once it died down, he wiped his eyes, and, in the slowest, most painstaking way ever, he swung his legs over the side of the bed. Maybe if he managed to walk, it would be a sign that he was getting better. Then Taehyun wouldn’t have to be sad, right?

Beomgyu smiled at that thought, and stood up onto his feet. Immediately, his knees buckled, and he crumpled to the floor. He sighed, cursing silently, rolling onto his back to stare at the ceiling. It looked like it would take him a long time to be able to stand up.

.・゜-: ✧ :-　　

“Yo Hueningkai, get your ass out of that metal room and come help me! Where does this ball go? Oh wait, that room is soundproof. He can’t hear me.” Yeonjun was muttering annoyedly to himself as he threw Hueningkai’s marbles haphazardly into the giant glass ball. Just then, the tapestry twitched, and Hueningkai emerged.

“Oh hey, you finally came out,” Yeonjun said, barely looking up from what he was doing. He paused, before cracking a small smile. “Well, you came out years ago, but anyway.”

Hueningkai raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “That’s like, your worst joke so far. And that’s saying something.”

“Come on, it was a great joke.” Yeonjun continued to pick up random possessions of theirs, throwing it into the seemingly bottomless glass ball.

“We’re not staying in Aruyeo forever, you know,” Hueningkai said, watching as Yeonjun dumped all of Hueningkai’s things into the giant ball. Yeonjun looked up.

“We’re not?”

“We have to come back here to deal with Wolfsbane,” Hueningkai said. “Also we need to help Taehyun.”

Yeonjun nodded. “Oh yeah, you’re right. Okay, then this should be enough.” He let Hueningkai put more things inside the ball, before lifting it up, holding it on his shoulder like a boulder. “You remember the plan, right?” he checked.

Hueningkai gave a laugh, rolling his eyes. “It isn’t much of a plan, but yeah.”

Yeonjun gave a lopsided grin. “It’s enough of a plan for us. Worst case scenario, we just storm in there and kill everyone in sight.”

“Yeah, let’s not do that,” Hueningkai said, smiling. He sat down on the bed, tracing the silk patterns. Yeonjun noticed his pensive expression and put down the ball, coming to sit down beside Hueningkai.

“Hey, Hyuka? What are you thinking about? You’re not thinking about the Kamal thing again, are you?”

Hueningkai bit his lip, not looking up at Yeonjun. “I just… it’s been ages since I’ve seen them. Maybe I should contact them.”

Yeonjun twisted his lips thoughtfully. “What, your sisters, Bahiyyih and Lea?”

“Yeah. I mean, I haven’t seen them in years, not since I escaped without them.” Hueningkai’s bottom lip quivered. “They were meant to run away to Aruyeo with me. They must hate me now.”

Yeonjun sighed, reaching forwards to get the younger to look at him. Hueningkai reluctantly looked up, eyes brimming with tears. “Hueningkai, listen. Your sisters love you very, very much. I don’t think they’d hate you. They just want you to live a good life.”

“But they were meant to come with me. I left without them.”

“That wasn’t your fault, though,” Yeonjun said firmly, holding onto Hueningkai’s shoulders. “Look. They encouraged you to go. That’s what you told me, right? We’ve been over this. You don’t need to feel guilty. They won’t hate you. Come on, Hyuka. Breathe with me. In, out. And again. In, out. There we go.”

Hueningkai breathed shakily, rubbing his eyes.

“Is that better now?” Yeonjun asked.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine now.”

Yeonjun nodded, satisfied, picking up the giant ball again. “Is that why you were so eager to get rid of your surname? Because of them?”

Hueningkai nodded his head. “Yeah.”

“You know there’s no way they could hate you, right?” Yeonjun said. He grinned, trying to lighten the mood. “You’re too damn cute.” He reached over and ruffled Hueningkai’s hair, the younger spy ducking away, a smile on his face. “Anyway, come on. Let’s go tell Taehyun we’re leaving.”

Yeonjun stood up. “I’m just hoping there is some time left before Beomgyu turns. Then we can get this done quickly, then come back to help Taehyun.” He picked up one of the empty marble balls laying on the desk, about the size of a football. He held it in his hands, subconsciously tapping his fingers against the glass.

“Yep,” Hueningkai said, also standing up.

Yeonjun absent-mindedly stared out of the window as Hueningkai put on his boots, not not paying attention to what was going on outside. But then he noticed it: the dark figure running through the fields. A large, dark figure. A figure which looked distinctly like…

The empty glass ball fell from Yeonjun’s grip, shattering on the floor. Hueningkai screamed, but Yeonjun didn’t even look at the mess of glass, still staring out of the window in shock.

“Fuck…” he said, voice barely a whisper. His eyes were still fixed on the window as he began to slowly edge his way towards the door, before picking up speed, wrenching open the door. Get to Taehyun… He needed to get to Taehyun…

“Wait, Yeonjun, where are you going?” Hueningkai called, trying to pick his way through the broken glass. But Yeonjun had already left, sprinting through the hallways to find Taehyun as soon as possible, their bedroom door still swinging on its hinges.

.・゜-: ✧ :-　

Taehyun looked up, curious at the frantic banging on his office door. The banging became more fervent, and he stood up.

“Alright, alright, calm down. I’m coming.”

He opened it to see a stressed Yeonjun on the other side, his eyes wide with panic and fear. He was breathing heavily, like he’d run down the whole two flights of stairs to Taehyun’s office. He was wearing his heavy overcoat, but his feet were bare. It was obvious he’d come in a hurry.

“Taehyun…” Yeonjun panted, out of breath. “Beomgyu…”

From just the name, Taehyun turned sick with dread. He knew what Yeonjun was about to say.

“I saw him. Taehyun, Beomgyu’s turned.”

taglist: @my-moarmy-heart @arohabangtan @a-fragmented-world

#court of lies #txt #txt taegyu #taegyu #txt taehyun #taehyun #txt beomgyu #beomgyu #txt fanfic #txt angst #txt fluff #txt imagine #txt imagines #tomorrow by together #tomorrow x together

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hunnybel · 4 years ago

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Eridan reading light novels to Tegiri because of a headcanon I have~ Which has manifested into a fic that can be found under the cut

It was a part of himself Tegiri was ashamed of. How could one such as himself, one whose very existence was so entangled with words and reading, have that as his biggest weakness? A burden, a flaw, something that made his already uphill climb to recognition ever more treacherous. Yes, he passed it off as slow and methodical, but few knew the truth that it wasn't him over-preparing and aiming for perfection. No; shamefully he was forced to take that time to even fully read through a passage a single time. Words and compositions had a tendency to get jumbled in his head, letters mocking him as he fought to grasp the meaning behind them. He could do it; it was a tedious effort, but he was capable.

Whether it was related to his future work or to his all-consuming hobby, the battle with literacy was a constant. Even those who, like him, were connoisseurs of the Eastern Alternian Animated Fine Arts, had gone so far as to mock his preference for the dubbed versions of that which they loved and shared. Of course they wouldn't understand, but dubs were severely underestimated regardless of it being the only real way for him to be able to watch shows without his curse bringing him untold aggravation.

The curse which he hated to name, in fear that recognising it would give more power, more credence to it. Dyslexia.

Because of the struggle, many works he had interest in tended to fall by the wayside. The original novelizations of the shows he enjoyed being one of the prime victims. And it was only recently that he had finally found a cure for that. His struggle may have been disheartening, but it ultimately led to the opportunity he had now been presented with and was even currently taking advantage of.

His matesprit reading to him.

Sure it had taken a while for him to open up about this particular fact to Eridan, but with that vulnerability came the offer, given by Eridan himself, to have the violetblood read aloud to him. Of course he was surprised by such a thing, but he would be the last one to turn down getting to hear the other's voice and at such length.

They were currently settled in against the futon-couch in Tegiri's hive, Eridan holding the book open in front of him as he relaxed against the back of the futon, Tegiri seated next to him, head nestled back, tilted to be able to vaguely read over Eridan's shoulder, though he wasn't actually trying to follow along that way. They were close. Close enough that Eridan didn't need to raise his voice too loudly for Tegiri to hear every word; close enough that Tegiri could feel the natural coolness of the other's body temperature radiating off him; close enough that he could feel the way the other shifted against the couch as he turned pages or adjusted his sitting position.

It was easy to get lost in these words; nothing frustrating, just the soothing sound of Eridan's voice speaking the story that was somewhat familiar, having known the anime adapted from it already. Tegiri really was completely charmed by his voice, slight speech impediment and all; in fact, it just added to how sweet it sounded to him. The way he pronounced some words was so pleasant, it almost made Tegiri smile, refraining only because that might get noticed and called out and he would be too embarrassed if questioned about it. And he didn't know how Eridan managed to bring the right intonations and dramatic flourish to every line without having read it all before or reading ahead, but he seemed to bring life to every word as he went. Maybe that was a little strange, to make such observations, but he didn't care. Tegiri felt special, privileged, lucky to have such an intimate moment, this sort of affection shown to him.

And it was then he realised he had been so focused on how Eridan sounded, he completely missed what he’d been saying. While trying to catch a familiar word or phrase on the page, Tegiri calculated he’d spaced out for about three paragraphs worth of words while listening to his voice. And now he was faced with a dilemma. Did he tell him and have to explain himself? Or did he just have to deal with having lost that part of the story? The longer he deliberated, the more story he lost, and in a moment of panic, he said a quiet "ah-" as if to interrupt. And it seemed to have gotten Eridan's attention.

"Hm? What is it?"

"Oh, uh…" Now would be the time if he was to say something. "I just remembered how that scene played out in the animated version." So that was how this was going to go. He was lying, of course. This part hadn't been animated, so he really was just missing a whole part of the story now.

"We should watch that together later, then." The small smile that accompanied the comment made Tegiri's pusher skip a beat. Ugh, he was going to be exposed as a liar but he couldn't say no to him.

"O-of course. When we finish the light novel series, we can watch the animated show." That seemed to satisfy Eridan and he went back to reading. Well, that had broken him out of his semi-dazed trance at least. He sat up a bit straighter to try and focus himself better. On the words this time and not just the voice saying them.

ーーーー

Maybe they would have to start cutting these reading sessions into shorter, more manageable snippets. Not because Tegiri got tired of listening, no, not at all. But he really was having a hard time keeping his attention on the content and words. Was he truly so hopeless that the sound of his matesprit's voice managed to entrance him more than the story that, had it been anyone else reading, would have him listening with far more than keen interest?

But he didn't want to seem unappreciative and tell Eridan to stop. He was at a bit of an impasse yet again. His determination to avoid saying or doing anything that might make Eridan feel as though he didn't love the kindness he was being given put him in a position where he didn't know what to do.

Tegiri liked to think he was generally level headed and not at all prone to impulse. Yet another lie he told himself. So in this second burst of panic, not wanting to lose any more of the story and being too cowardly to just tell him they should take a break, he distracted him in the quickest way he knew how. Sure he was still learning how to initiate and engage in physical affection, but that didn't mean he didn't have the desire to do so. And using it as a panic-induced interruption was apparently the way it manifested.

Pressing his lips against the soft, thin skin of the other's earfin was more pleasant than he expected. And the reaction was immediate. The reading stopped mid-word and Eridan seemed to jerk back at the sudden affection. Tegiri had a moment of fear that he had done something wrong, but the flush of violet in Eridan's cheeks and the cute way his earfin fluttered before he pressed a hand over it made the worry disappear.

"...What are you doing?!"

"Well, you see, I… Wanted to?" There was a hesitation in his tone which earned him a skeptical frown and a scoff.

"Were you too distracted to pay attention or somefin." Now it was Tegiri's turn to flush, his cheeks burning teal as he cleared his throat in the embarrassment of being caught.

"That… May have been the case. Sorry, I just found myself taken by your voice and my attention was far too much on that to really…. Take in what you were saying."

He had already gotten called out, how much more embarrassing could the truth be? His voice did trail off as he spoke, though, hints of sudden uncertainty creeping in at the edges.

"Are you serious?" It was more incredulity than annoyance in the violetblood's tone and Tegiri hoped that meant he wasn't upset. "You mean to tell me that you're too busy listenin' to my voice to pay attention to this series you've gushed about?"

"Well, when you put it like that…" It was just as embarrassing being worded that way as the thoughts he'd had about it himself. "...Yes, that is exactly what I am saying."

A pause. "We're just gonna have to reread it all again later then." With the book closed, it was safe to say they were done reading for the night. Tegiri still felt a bit bad, but it didn't seem as though Eridan felt any resentment for being, essentially, ignored.

"Alright… Sorry." Tegiri hung his head a bit, eyes turned away, a bit embarrassed and slightly ashamed. At least until he felt something gently grip his chin. His eyes darted to Eridan.

"We've been interrupted already, might as well go with it. I'll give you a reason to be distracted." The accompanying smile said all he needed to know as the space between their lips vanished.

#homestuck #eridan ampora #hiveswap #tegiri kalbur #my art #my writing #I haven't written fic in a very long time #erigiri

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365days365movies · 4 years ago

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May 9, 2021: A.I. Artificial Intelligence (2001) (Recap: Part One)

Welcome to the future.

At this point, we’ve mostly looked at the past, present, or the near-future (as in, the next ten years, if that). Additionally, we’ve looked either at nonexistent technology in a contemporary setting, or an extension of existing technology taken to a logical next step. But no more. No more realism, no more real-world rules, and nothing that we’re even close to in this reality.

Well...mostly.

That’s genuinely impressive, not gonna lie. Anyway, yeah, from here forwards (for a bit), we’ll be looking at the future and futuristic technology. Now, there are a couple of ways in which these films tend to go. The first big way that we tend to represent the future in film is the same way we always have: flying cars, futuristic technology, smart houses, and robots.

Now, there are countless examples of this future, and it always changes a bit depending on the present. Which, yeah, makes sense. After all, what I’m doing right now, at this moment, would’ve been seen by many people as a massive technological achievement, even around the time that I was born. Which, yes, I’m old, deal with it (because I can’t). Anyway, the way that this begins is with the first major filmed view of a seemingly idyllic future: Fritz Lang’s 1927 film Metropolis.

The overly mechanized (and politically dystopic) society seen in this film, as well as the visuals and technology, would inform our ideas of the future throughout the next century. Multiple themes and common objects reoccur throughout futuristic fiction. You know the stuff I’m talking about. Flying cars, automatic food machines, robotic assistants, video watches, holograms, jetpacks, so on and so forth.

But here’s the thing about the future. It’s always ahead of us, and eventually...well, we’ve gotten to most of those things to some degree. Either they already exist...

youtube

...or is currently being developed.

Well, one of them we’re still working on. And the development of more advanced AI is something we have yet to perfect, or even fully develop. However, the development of A.I. (and the consequences of that technology) are ALL OVER science fiction. Sometimes, they’re merely used for flavor to help establish the futuristic setting.

Sometimes, they’re characters with their own agency and conflicts, which may or may not define the plot. In these cases, they’re often simply there to back up the main human characters, and help with their development, and sometimes their own. You know, manic pixie dream robots.

And then, possibly most often, they’re the abject villains of the piece. they can be mysterious alien technology, like in The Day the Earth Stood Still, or a man-made danger that turns on the race that created and/or abused it.

But then, on occasion, an A.I. is given the chance to develop as a character, without being used to define the development of a human character. Sometimes, the question of what life truly means is raised through these characters, and we become attached to them outside of any other character. This isn’t nearly as common as the others, but it’s definitely not unheard of.

And for the record...things don’t often go well for those AIs. But still, some of those characters have quite a lasting impact. So, there’s quite a lot of potential for this type of character, from a dramatic standpoint. And that potential leads us to the guy who made this.

I WILL MAKE A JURASSIC PARK REFERENCE AS OFTEN AS POSSIBLE

Steven Spielberg gives us today’s entry, and this director of a classic science fiction story about science gone awry teamed up with the director of a science fiction film where an artificial intelligence went awry. You know, this thing.

I didn’t forget about HAL. And I won’t forget about him later, either.

Director Stanley Kubrick is pretty well-know for his mind-bending films, especially The Shining and 2001: A Space Odyssey. But he also worked with Spielberg on this film before his death in 1999, as this was one of his dream projects for many years, and the two directors were well-known friends.

And so, eventually, Spielberg was given the reins from Kubrick, and results were...mixed. It’s funny, because I’ve never actually seen this movie, but I remember it through its surprisingly widespread ad campaign. I used to go to NYC as a kid a lot, and there was a massive building-side plastered with the iconic logo of this movie. So, I’ve been hovering around this movie for a long time. Enough navel-gazing!

SPOILERS AHEAD!!!

Recap (Part One)

It is, unsurprisingly, the future. A marrator informs us that climate change has caused the ice caps to melt, and global flooding drowns several countries. You could say that it’s a...Waterworld.

I genuinely considered watching that movie at some point, and then I decided I liked myself to much to watch 2 hours of Kevin Costner’s emotionless acting. Granted, it’s not much better now, listening to the emotionless acting of...

Professor Allen Hobby (William Hurt) is a straight-up sociopath. OK, technically, he’s a robotics engineer, but dude’s making a speech, right? He talks about how far robots have come, dissing my boi Deep Blue in the process, and notes that pain-memory response can also be demonstrated by robots. He proves this by stabbing a woman in his audience, like RIGHT through the hand. Jesus, man! Why the hell would you do that?

Oh. Holy shit, I got fooled. Advanced technology indeed. But OK, so Sheila’s a robot, and a very advanced one...to us. But Hobby wants more, and proposes to his workers to make a robot that can really TRULY love. And through love may come a true subconscious, which means making a robot that can dream. And what better robot to make than a robot child? After all, all child conception requires a license in this futuristic world, so many childless couples are yearning for a child.

Which is why, twenty months later, the first robot child is offered to Henry and Monica Swinton (Sam Robards and Frances O’Connor), a couple...with a child. Um. Guys. You JUST SAID that there are legit childless couples who need a child, and those people would be best suited to love that robot child back (a VERY GOOD question raised by one of Hobby’s subordinates). So why give it to a couple whose son is still alive? Yeah, he’s got a rare disease that they don’t have a cure for yet, and is currently in cryostasis, BUT THEY HAVE A KID! Surely, that’s going to be a potential emotional conflict! And what if the kid wakes up or some shit? This is a TERRIBLE goddamn idea. Think this shit through, guys.

And yet...

This is David (Haley Joel Osment), Cybertronics’ first child robot, brought home by Henry to essentially replace their son. Which is AMAZINGLY FUCKING TONE-DEAF AND INSANE, GODDAMN. That’s extraordinarily messed up. And, for the record, I totally get what Spielberg’s going for, but Jesus Christ, man. This was a terrible way to go about this. And it gets fucking WORSE.

See, Henry (who actually works for Cybertronics) tells Monica that, once they sign the papers and complete the updates, David will imprint on them and see him as their true parents, loving them unconditionally. Which...yeah, fuck, that’s an entire DUMP TRUCK of ethics issues right there. And, while we’re at it, David is...creepy as shit. I mean it, dude, Haley Joel Osment is a VERY good child actor, but he’s laying on the creepy robot child thing THICK. And yeah, this is BEFORE he imprints on them. Jesus fuck, man, there’s a scene where the still uncomfortable Monica is outside of a glass door, and he looks back at her THROUGH THE DOOR like a goddamn SERIAL KILLER.

And I gotta tell ya, dude does not lay off that creepy-ass dial one iota. And for that matter, the music by John Williams ISN’T FUCKING HELPING. LISTEN to this shit, and imagine a robot child that you don’t know wandering around your house. It’s amazingly fucking creepy.

AND IT JUST. KEEPS. GETTING. WORSE. There’s a scene where they’re all at dinner, right, and David’s just staring at them as they eat, mimicking their actions. After all, he’s a robot, he can’t actually eat or drink anything because of his internal working. And then, out of FUCKING NOWHERE, he starts laughing like the FUCKING JOKER, and it scares the EVER-LOVING SHIT OUT OF ME. And somehow, they laugh alongside him, in the never-ending Stockholm syndrome that is this movie! And as soon as its over, he just STOPS laughing, spontaneously. Fuck me, man, I’m tempted to stop watching here and now, and I’m only TWENTY MINUTES IN! I need a fucking break.

And after that...OF COURSE she decides to activate his imprinting protocols to make him, let me remind you, LOVE HIM FOREVER! She reads out a series of words, and after “FREIGHT CAR”, he knows his mission is to kill the Prime Minister of Sokovia. But first, he’ll settle down and love Monica unconditionally (again, FOREVER), calling her Mommy and making me shit my pants in fear. IT WASN’T ME, IT WAS FUCKING DAVID

Oh, and by the way, isn’t it kinda shitty to do that without Henry being involved AT ALL? Like, cool, he has unconditional maternal love, but Henry wasn’t a part of that conditioning at all! And he still refers to him as “Henry” instead of Dad! However, Henry definitely doesn’t care about that, because he still sees David as only a robot. Hey, guys, maybe using these two as your first experiment with a robot child WAS A TERRIBLE FUCKING IDEA, YOU IDIOTS! No wonder William Hurt was cast as Thunderbolt Ross in the MCU. Already shown he can play a character with shitty ideas before.

Anyway, after this terrible series of events, David prevents the parents from leaving one night due to his childlike antics. When Monica goes to comfort him, he asks how long she’ll live, and tells her that he hope she never dies, a COMPLETELY NORMAL THING TO SAY. Look, I get that he’s a robot, but only a goddamn emotionless sociopath would program emotional responses like this into a robot. Which, given what we’ve seen of Hobby, makes sense.

In response, she gives him Teddy (Jack Angel), a technologically advanced teddy bear with sentience, a personality, and the voice of Astrotrain from The Transformers TV series. Because, yes, I am THAT MUCH of a goddamn nerd.

Soon after, the house gets a phone call, which David receives...literally. He takes the phone and allows it to speak through him. It turns out that, shock beyond shocks, THEIR SON IS CURED! Yeah, fuck. Maybe giving David to a family with a STILL LIVING SON is a fucking ABSOLUTELY TERRIBLE IDEA, for about a thousand reasons.

And, fucking understandably, Martin Swinton (Jake Thomas) is a little upset to find out that he’s essentially been replaced by a robot kid. Although, to be fair, he’s also kind of a dick to David, holding his humanity over him and treating him as a toy that he attempts to manipulate and bully. My Lord, this is a massively stupid idea. And Martin immediately shows his dickishness by asking his mother to read Carlo Collodi’s The Adventures of Pinocchio to them. Which is meant to be a punishment for Pinocchio. However, of course, David loves it.

Still, however, there’s trouble in paradise for David, as he tries to compete with Martin for being a real boy, and eats spinach at dinner one evening. Despite Teddy’s mildly ominous warning to him (”YOU WILL BREAK”), he keeps eating until he basically has a stroke and breaks, forcing him to be repaired by some of Cybertronics’ technicians. Monica has a bit of a break down as a result, which Martin notices. This causes Martin to go pure supervillain, manipulating David to do creepy things in order to insert doubt into Monica about David. Jesus, Martin’s a creepy kid, too. No wonder Monica grew to be cool with David, her actual son is a FUCKING SOCIOPATHIC MONSTER! Are there ANY truly normal people in this world? IS THIS WHAT THE FUTURE IS?

Martin convinces David to cut a lock of Monica’s hair while she’s sleeping. And lemme tell ya, a little boy holding scissors over someone while they sleep is not exactly comforting. Henry agrees, and after stopping him, believes that they need to return him. Monica disagrees, knowing that they’ll destroy him if brought back. But David, ever the semi-sociopath himself, ignores any signs of humanity in David and dismisses Monica's feelings for him entirely. He also says this thing about “IF HE CAN BE PROGRAMMED TO LOVE, CAN NOT HE BE PROGRAMM-ED TO HATE?”, which...no. No, he cannot. He didn’t learn to love, he was programmed to. And, again, that’s ethically FUCKED, but taking that into account...no. HE WASN’T PROGRAMMED TO HATE, HENRY. Goddamn, buddy, use your head here.

It’s Martin’s birthday, and his friends at the pool party expose David to the fun world of anti-robot (or Mecha) racism, and test to see if he has Damage Avoidance Systems by threatening him with a knife. And he does. Buuut, when those systems kick in, he goes to the nearest point of safety to keep himself safe. That point is, unfortunately, Martin, whom he gets behind...and accidentally drags into the pool.

Thing is, because of Martin’s recent illness, he can’t exactly swim, meaning that David almost drowns him. When Henry and other partygoers go to save him, they abandon David in the pool completely. And now, David’s fucked. Because although this situation isn’t even a little bit his fault, he also just nearly killed Martin. And so, after seeing notes that he’s been writing to her, Monica offers to take for a “ride in the country”. Which definitely means something good. In reality, she’s planning on taking him back to Cybertronics. But once in the car, there’s a change in plans. And hear me out...it’s arguably far more horrifying.

She decides to abandon him in the woods completely, despite how hard it is for her to leave him. She’s sparing him from death, sure, but also throwing him into a world he doesn’t understand, and for reasons that he doesn’t understand. It’s genuinely terrible. And then...yeah, she leaves him forever, to an uncertain future.

End Act One.

I think this is a good place to stop. It’s early, and I need more coffee to handle this shit. See you in Part Two. Of Three. Yup. It’s a long one.

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