#i am behind in KNOWING HOW TO HANDLE IMPROVING MY SKILLS.

[end-orfino]

people should show their first drawings/animatics/writings more often. I won't do it but you guys definitely should

[dragqueenstarscream]

i've been waiting all my life (for you to arrive)

bot with a baby au - chapter one

after a decepticon attack leaves a newborn baby orphaned, ratchet takes it upon himself to take care of the baby until he can find her remaining family. it doesn't go as planned.

author's note: i can't believe i'm actually doing this. this was supposed to be a joke. this was supposed to be a crackfic. but here we are, because i actually managed to come up with a plot. gonna shoot for a saturday/every other saturday upload schedule so i don't overwhelm myself, whichever one ends up working out, but we'll see how that goes.

the title comes from "worlds collide" by marianas trench. if you know the story behind that song and get why i chose that line for my title, you get alllllll the brownie points.

the first lesson every medic on cybertron learned upon entering the field was that you couldn't save everyone.

of course, it was drilled into each prospective medic from day one. it wasn't meant to frighten anyone away from the field. it was simply a hard truth, and the sooner one learned it, the better.

ratchet knew it from the start. he knew going into the medical field that sometimes, bots would offline, and he could do nothing about it. as difficult as his first loss was, he was at least mentally prepared for it.

and then the war happened, and losses became the norm.

it was impossible for ratchet to not blame himself when a patient died under his care. it didn't matter if they came in with their chassis blown apart by cannonfire, tox-en circulating through their hydraulics, their faceplate bludgeoned to oblivion, or whatever horrific combination of injuries one could suffer on the battlefield. if they didn't make it home, ratchet would blame himself.

as trying and painful as being a battlefield medic was, ratchet didn't have it in him to quit. in his mind, giving up would lead to even more deaths, and it was better to dig his heels in than give in to his self doubt. and as he improved in his field, as he fought like the pit to keep soldiers and civilians alike alive in the face of impossible odds, he learned the second important lesson all medics would come to learn at some point in their careers.

he couldn't save everyone, but that would never stop him from trying.

it started with an alarm on the base computer.

it was a saturday, and the children were spending their weekend with their autobot friends. raf was playing video games with bumblebee, miko was trying to explain the plot of an anime she liked to bulkhead, and jack was hunting for his bike helmet so he and arcee could try to break their speed record. this left smokescreen wandering around the base, getting himself familiar, and optimus and ratchet standing by side by side in front of the base computer, trying to find any possible signs of the remaining relics alpha trion had sent over.

"still no luck?" ratchet asked as he moved to optimus' left.

"alpha wanted to be certain that these relics would not fall into decepticon hands," optimus said. "my only comfort is that, if we have the same information, these are as difficult for the decepticons to find as they are for us."

"that's one way of looking at it," ratchet huffed. as he watched the screen, he asked, "what do you think you'll do when the war is over?"

"if we win?" optimus asked. he paused, thinking for a moment. "i am not sure. i would much like to go back to iacon and see alpha trion again. maybe i would return to my original job."

"i don't blame you," ratchet scoffed. "i don't think i could handle being a prime. too much weight on my shoulders. you're a better bot than i am, optimus."

"i could say the same about you, old friend," optimus said with a slight smile. "it takes a strong spark and a lifetime of skill to do your job."

"eh, it's not as hard as being a prime is," ratchet shrugged. "anyone can learn how to do what i do."

"do not sell yourself short, ratchet," optimus said. he thought for a minute, then asked, "what will you do after this war?"

"me?" ratchet said. "i'm not sure. we've been in this war for so long that it's hard to imagine anything else."

"i feel the same way," optimus sighed, his expression changing ever so slightly before returning to his usual calm.

ratchet was about to say something when the screen lit up with an alert. focusing on it, ratchet noticed what looked like two sets of lifesigns moving along the screen.

"knock out and breakdown?" he said, reading off of the screen.

"most likely knock out and cylas," optimus inferred. "cylas must've defected from the decepticons after project damocles failed."

"what's knock out doing with him, then?" ratchet asked.

"he's probably mad that cylas took over breakdown's body," bulkhead guessed. "i wouldn't be surprised if knock out wants payback."

following the two blips along the screen, ratchet saw that cylas was moving towards an isolated building, far from any cities or towns. putting two and two together, he said, "that must be a mech outpost. he's either going there to gear up for a fight or to hide."

"either way, he needs to be turned in," optimus said. "we can't have a repeat of project damocles."

bumblebee beeped out a response, which raf translated. "he's saying that cylas was the one who took out his t-cog. he'll probably try to use knock out for extra parts if he beats him."

"then we had better get going and make sure he's apprehended," optimus said. "bulkhead, arcee, come with me. ratchet, you too. we may need a medic. bumblebee, you and smokescreen stay here. we'll need you to man the ground bridge."

bumblebee nodded and got up to take his place next to the ground bridge controls. at the edge of his vision, ratchet saw jack, bike helmet on, climbing on arcee's alt mode, while miko hopped inside bulkhead's alt mode. he rolled his optics, exasperated, but not in the mood to tell the children off when he knew for a fact that they wouldn't listen.

bumblebee booted up the ground bridge, prompting optimus and ratchet to change into their alt modes. once bumblebee punched in the coordinates, the familiar swirling, green vortex of the ground bridge opened up before them. optimus took the lead, and ratchet, as usual, followed right behind him.

the ground bridge spat them out in the middle of a forest covered in snow. as dark as it was, the moonlight streaming between the branches helped illuminate their surroundings. aside from fallen pinecones and animal tracks, the only things disrupting the blanket of white were two sets of tire tracks, which changed into giant footprints once they went deeper in, where driving was more difficult.

"stay on your guard," optimus warned them as he changed into his bot mode. "they may be focused on each other, but we cannot afford to be careless."

ratchet changed into his bot mode shortly after, followed by bulkhead and arcee. the four bots trudged through the snow, following the tire tracks, with bulkhead and arcee carrying their humans on their shoulders.

"do you see that?" miko asked, pointing forward. ratchet looked up from the ground and saw what looked like a building in the distance, though ratchet couldn't make out the details from this far.

"that's our mech base, alright," arcee said. "there's nothing else it can be."

as they collectively picked up speed to get a better look, ratchet saw the destruction cylas and knock out had already wrought. the entrance to the building looked like it had been hacked open, most likely by knock out's buzzsaw. tire tracks scattered in all directions, though none of them looked like knock out's or cylas'. they were too small.

"whoever was here must've packed up and ran for it," ratchet guessed as he stepped through the destroyed entryway. sure enough, the area he'd stepped into looked like a garage, and only a few trucks had been left behind. the rest had all been taken, and which ones remained had been shoved aside or mangled in what must've been a fight. what remained of the base controls had been hurled aside and hacked through, rendering the base inoperable. part of the ceiling had been shot down, leaving a pile of concrete and twisted metal on the floor, partially covering the doorway to the next room.

"i'll go check out what's ahead," arcee said. she set jack down from her shoulder and crouched through what wasn't covered by ruin to scout what lay ahead.

"bulkhead, come with me," optimus said. "we need to see if cylas or knock out are still in the area."

the wrecker nodded and followed after optimus, setting miko on the ground before changing into his alt mode and following optimus outside. jack and miko followed after arcee, leaving ratchet to himself in the garage. as he looked around, he started to weave a possible narrative together in his mind's optic.

cylas must've come through this way to alert his agents, he guessed. knock out followed right behind him, and they must've gotten into it. that hole was probably from knock out trying to shoot cylas. knock out, i can understand, but why would cylas be coming here and not getting away as fast as he could?

"hey, ratchet!" jack's voice rang out from amid the rubble. "you might wanna come see this!"

ratchet turned in the direction of jack's voice. arcee crawled out of the rubble and started to clear a large enough path for ratchet, who, in turn, helped her pull apart the fallen concrete and metal. as the two bots worked, ratchet looked over to arcee. her face looked as confused as he felt, her brow scrunched up in bewilderment.

the two bots forced their way into... well, ratchet wasn't sure what it was. it looked somewhere between an abandoned hospital room and a ramshackle laboratory. jack shone his phone flashlight around the room, revealing a massive medical berth, fit for a large cybertronian, as well as a human sized bed nearby, oddly enough. along one wall hung a myriad of barbaric looking instruments which ratchet could only guess were for taking apart and examining cylas' hijacked body. feeling a draft coming from nearby, ratchet looked around and saw a hole big enough for him to walk through ripped from the wall, along with two sets of snowy footprints leading out.

"looks like we found where they went off to," he grumbled. "knock out isn't done with cylas, it looks like."

"i don't blame him," arcee said, raising an eyebrow. "i would've done the same for cliffjumper."

as ratchet continued to look around the room, something caught his attention; a doorway mostly covered by fallen equipment and concrete. curious as to what lay behind, ratchet hauled the mangled metal and chunks of concrete out of the way. maybe some mech agents had hunkered down in there, people who'd be able to give up any information on where cylas might've gone.

the doorway was tall enough for a bot like arcee to go through comfortably, but ratchet had to duck his way inside. to his surprise, this room seemed relatively untouched by the destruction outside. apart from dust shaken down from the ceiling, everything looked mostly intact, from the fluorescent lights on the ceiling (which ratchet accidentally bumped into upon first entering the room) and the human sized medical equipment. he couldn't understand it. was the human equipment for the mech agents, or was it for cylas? maybe both?

as he turned to his left, two things came into his vision. the first was what looked like a monitor displaying vital signs. he didn't know how human vitals would read compared to cybertronian vitals, so he didn't understand everything he saw, much to his dismay. after raf's poisoning, he'd promised himself that he'd learn more about human medicine; clearly, he hadn't learned enough.

the second was what something ratchet couldn't wrap his processor around. it looked almost like a cross between a table and one of those rolling chairs the kids liked to play around on. on top of the main part of the table was what looked like a clear tank with a myriad of wires and tubes either protruding from the tank itself or plugged into the table. one wall of the tank had two large holes in it. something lay inside it, but ratchet couldn't quite tell what it was, squinting against the glare of the fluorescent light reflecting against the top of the tank.

crouching down to get a closer look, ratchet leaned in closer - and felt his spark freeze up.

two sets of footsteps followed ratchet into the room. the voice of miko piped up, "ratchet? what is this place?"

"this looks like nicu equipment," jack pondered as he looked around the room. "what on earth is it doing here?"

"and how do you know that?" miko asked.

"mom's a nicu nurse, i know what that stuff looks like," jack replied.

"children," ratchet piped up, raising a servo to shush them. once they were quiet again, he slowly raised his servo to the side of the tank with the holes in it and gently pulled on it, causing it to slide downwards. once he got a better look at what was inside, ratchet's horrified expression melted into something furious.

"bumblebee," he said, trying to keep his voice as level as possible as he opened up his comms, "we need a groundbridge. optimus, we need to get back to base, now." turning his head to the side, he said, "jack, when we get back to jasper, we're going straight to the hospital."

"wait, why?" the boy asked, stepping forward to get a better look. "what's going on? is someone hurt?"

ratchet didn't say a word. he reached inside the tank and slid the interior bed out with one digit. summoning up every bit of care and caution in his body, ratchet picked up what lay on the bed and gently set it on his other servo. behind him, the kids craned their necks and stood on their toes for a better look. as ratchet slowly turned around to face the children, his expression shifted to something unusually calm, but the fist clenched at his side revealed his righteous fury.

in his servo, wrapped in nothing but a thin blanket, lay a tiny human baby, asleep and shivering against the freezing cold air.

author's note: i told you i came up with a plot for this fucking crackfic idea. now to get started on the next chapter. (is this crack taken seriously?? idek anymore. i can't write just a goofy dumb fic. i've gotta do something else with it)

[daisynik7]

“Into you” by Fabolous for Connie Springer- smut + fluff

(S4 connie ofc)

Into You

I think you’re truly something special, just what my dreams are really made of

Pairing: Connie Springer x f!reader

Rating: Explicit – MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Word Count: ~2.4k

cw: super fluffy, kinda cheesy, college au, modern day au, lots of basketball terms (applies specifically to NCAA and NBA), explicit language, smut – PIV sex (cowgirl position), implied creampie

Summary: You and Connie Springer have been close since childhood, growing up as next-door neighbors and best friends. The bond the two of you share is undeniable, but you’ve never been able to admit how deep your feelings are, either to yourself or to him. You continue to support him as his friend while he pursues his career as a basketball player, trying to get drafted into the NBA. Though the journey has its ups and downs, one thing is for certain: The two of you will always have each other, forever and ever. 

Author’s Notes: Hi anon! Thanks so much for requesting this song for the y2k karaoke party because it’s one of my FAVORITES! It really gives me Love & Basketball vibes, another favorite of mine that also happens to be a classic in the y2k era. This little fic is very loosely based off of that, so I hope you enjoy! Also, all the basketball/NBA tidbits are mostly from being with my boyfriend, who is a huge NBA fan, so yeah, sorry if any details are inaccurate lol. Likes, reblogs, and/or comments are always appreciated, thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy! MDNI banner credit to @/cafekitsune. Header image from Pinterest (Slam Dunk manga).

“You have to pinky promise, okay?” Connie sticks his tiny finger out, wiggling it in front of your face, sucking on his cherry-flavored lollipop, lips and tongue-stained red. You’re both five years old, sitting cross-legged in the front of his yard, taking a break from playing hide-and-seek.

“What am I pinky promising?” you ask, voice squeaky and curious.

“That we’ll be best friends forever and ever! No matter what!” he exclaims, beaming at you with his eyes wide, twinkling earnestly. 

You only need to think for a few seconds before you’re hooking your pinky with his, committing to this promise for the rest of your lives. 

~~~

Ten years later, Connie makes it on the varsity basketball team in your high school. It’s rare for a freshman to make it to varsity at Ragako; the coaches must have seen that spark in him that you and his family have witnessed since he started playing at ten-years-old. You used to shoot around with him out in his driveway, where his father set up a little hoop. Eventually, the little one got upgraded to a real one, where the height was adjusted appropriately as Connie grew. You became his practice partner, no longer able to compete with him. Instead, you passed him the ball, watching in awe as he made shot after shot, sometimes deep from the street. He’d pick you up and spin you around, the two of you cheering together, impressed by his skills.

Year after year, he only improved. The way he handled the ball, expertly dribbling it between his legs, behind his back, one-handed, without looking. Or the way his feet gracefully shuffled along the court, the distinct squeak from his shoes echoing off the walls as you watch him on the bleachers, playing three-on-three against some of his buddies at the gym. One time, his friend Jean teases you. “You know, you should stop hanging around here or else people might think you’re his groupie.”

Before you can think of a smart comeback, Connie interjects, shoving Jean hard in the arm. “Hey! Leave her alone. I want her here. I only play like this when she’s around. And she’s not a groupie. She’s my best friend.” He wraps his arm around your shoulders, leading you towards the exit while Jean sputters apologies that go ignored. “Sorry about that,” he whispers to you. “Jean is an asshole. I want you around, got it? Forever and ever.”

You smile, leaning into him. “Forever and ever.”

~~~

It’s at the championship game during senior year that you realize that you’re in love with Connie.

Scouts have already contacted him about full-ride scholarships to university, recruiting him for their team. He’s the most celebrated point-guard in your school’s history, his average points and assists per game breaking records. Ever since he joined, your school has made it in the final round each year, last year resulting in a win, this year leading to a second. 

With seconds left on the shot clock, tie game, Ragako with possession, Connie makes his move. He inbounds the ball to his teammate, quickly taking position at the right wing, his sweet spot. As quickly as it leaves his hands, the ball is passed back to him. He shoots it, and as it flies out from his fingers into the air, the buzzer rings, and he makes it. The crowd goes wild; one side of the bleachers erupting into a frenzy, jumping up and down with excitement. Connie’s parents hug each other first, then surround you in their arms, elated. You don’t expect him to celebrate the win with you, not with his entire team huddling around him, splashing water on his head, cheering his name. Not with all the cheerleaders and fans gravitating toward him, eager to be in the presence of a sure-to-be star in the making. So, it surprises you when you see him maneuver his way through the crowd, heading straight towards you. He pounces on you, giving you the biggest, sweatiest hug with tears streaming down his face. It’s a split second where the surrounding noise goes blank and it’s just the two of you there, basking in each other’s warmth. Soon, his parents join you, also crying happily, and it’s in this moment that you realize this is where you want to be: with him. Forever and ever.

~~~

It's no surprise that the two of you attend the same college together. Most people will see it as you following him, but in actuality, Connie agrees to go wherever you go. Lucky for you both, your top choice is a D1 university where he’s offered a scholarship to play for their basketball team. It works out perfectly, as if it were meant to be. 

He’s busy from the get-go, practicing every day until the season starts in November. You become preoccupied with classes, and naturally, the two of you travel your different paths, meeting in the middle whenever you can. When the season official starts, you attend all his home games, cheering for him from the sidelines surrounded by the other students also chanting his name. Weeknights, he’s often too tired to hang out, retreating to his dorm room to fall asleep, only to repeat his busy schedule again the next day. He grows close with his teammates, spending most of his time with them instead of you, which is to be expected. After all, you and Connie are just friends. Sure, you’re completely and madly in love with him, but he’ll never know that. So, you watch from afar as he pursues his career without you in the way. It’s the way it has to be. 

By the time spring semester rolls around, you and Connie barely see each other. You’ll still text, sometimes video chat or talk on the phone. He mostly vents to you about teammates or coaches that have gotten on his nerves that day. He’ll catch you up on the other schools they’ve defeated or the ones that they’ve lost to. Your school’s record is quite good thanks to Connie, who’s only gotten better since high school. If they continue at this rate, they will win the conference tournament, meaning a trip to March Madness, the most prestigious competition in college basketball. Most importantly, it’s one step closer to the NBA.

As expected, the team does win the conference tournament. That night, the entire campus is lively with students buzzing in school spirit, ready to party the rest of the weekend. All you think about is calling Connie to congratulate him, hear his voice and tell him that you’re so proud of him. You debate with yourself for nearly fifteen minutes, staring at his name on your screen, fingers so close to dialing his number. You decide not to go through with it, certain that he’s too busy with his team, too busy with his fans. He’s not thinking about you, not when his whole world is about to change. And you can’t blame him; you’re just friends, and this is the way it has to be.

The following night, your school organizes an impromptu homecoming for the basketball team, welcoming them as they arrive on the bus, fresh from their championship win. They have a  couple days of rest before they leave for the NCAA tournament, but you’re sure they’ll be busy with press and practice until then. You’re not there to greet them when they step off the bus; instead, you’re sulking in your room, buried under the covers, feeling sorry for yourself for ever falling in love with Connie Springer. It’s a sad, pathetic sight, but at least you’re alone for the weekend to do it while your roommate is out visiting her boyfriend out of town. 

You’re surprised to see Connie’s name flash on your phone a few hours later. You let it ring twice before answering. “Hello?”

“Where are you?” he asks. There’s shuffling in the background, as if he’s walking outside. 

“I’m in my room.”

“I’m coming over now.” He hangs up, not giving you any time to respond. You sigh, mentally preparing yourself for what’s to come.

When you open the door to let him in, he wraps his arms around you in a snug embrace. “I missed you.” He pulls off to hold you by the arms, glaring. “Why didn’t you greet me off the bus?”

“I…” you start, unsure how to respond. 

“I was looking for you and you weren’t there. Where were you?”

“I was studying in the library.” This might be the first time you’ve ever lied to him. You feel guilty and gross. 

“Oh,” he says sadly, still staring at you. 

“Congratulations, by the way. It was an amazing win.” You give him a weak smile, blinking away the tears welling in your eyes. You don’t even know why you’re crying; Connie did nothing wrong. You’re letting your emotions get the best of you, and you can’t help but crumble in front of the only person who knows you better than you know yourself. 

“I don’t care about that right now. I care about you. What’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing, Connie, I promise.”

“Don’t promise me shit like that. I know you’re upset. Tell me. Please.” His eyes search yours, desperate for an answer. 

You look at his feet, fixating on his shoes, scuffed on the sides from playing. Tears start to drop from your face and on the carpet. “I just…I missed you too. I miss you, Connie. I…I love you.” The confession slips from your mouth in a sniffle, and you’re so upset with yourself for letting it slide in this crucial moment. Neither of you needs the drama of your unrequited love right now. Not you, knowing he’ll be leaving again soon, and especially not him, who has bigger and better things to focus on. 

He gapes at you, stuttering, “You love me?”

You nod, biting your lip.

“Like, love love? Or love like a friend?”

You’re tempted to lie, just to make it easier. But you owe it to Connie to be honest with him. “Love love.”

His mouth is open, eyes bugging out, completely shocked by your admission. Before he can respond, you add, “I’m sorry, Connie. I shouldn’t have told you this right before the tournament, but…I don’t know. It just came out. I’m sorry.”

He stammers, “You’re sorry? This is the best fucking thing I’ve heard in my entire life.” He breaks into a smile, laughing hysterically, an even more bizarre reaction. 

You cross your arms, getting impatient with his ridiculous behavior, eventually grabbing his shoulders to shake him out of his fit. “Connie, what the hell?!”

He wipes his eyes, crying from giggling, beaming at you. “I’ve been in love with since we were kids. Been dreaming of hearing you say that since we were five-years-old.” He hugs you tightly, nuzzling his nose to the top of your head. “I love you and I want to be with you. Forever and ever, right?”

You nestle into his chest, inhaling the familiar scent you missed since he’s been gone. “Forever and ever.” 

~~~

The two of you spend the night together, making love for the first time. His lips are soft against yours, and you smile into his kiss, remembering the day you pinky promised that you’ll be best friends forever and ever, no matter what. His lips were stained red with cherry-flavored candy, looking sickly sweet as he smiled at you. And as you kiss him now, he tastes just as sweet as you imagined he’d be after all these years. 

You kiss him sloppy as you ride his lap, his cock buried deep in your pussy, filling you up to the brim. He moans your name into your mouth as he laps at the saliva collecting on your tongue, slurping your spit, swallowing it thickly. “Fuck,” he groans, hands gripped to your hips, rocking you back and forth on his thighs. “I’ve dreamed about this for so long, baby. So long.”

“Me too,” you whisper, starting to bounce on him, close to your climax. 

“What would you think about? Tell me,” he demands, thumb pressed to your clit, rubbing it raw.

You whine from his touch, increasing your pace, resting your head on his shoulder. “You and me, just like this,” you huff, short of breath. 

“Yeah? You thought about me deep inside you, huh? Fucking this sweet pussy until you come all over my cock, huh?” He thrusts up into you, grip tightening, fingers digging into your flesh. He’s close too, you can feel it.

You moan into his skin, sweat beading on your forehead, throwing your ass back against him in tandem with each pump of his cock. A few more strokes and the two of you come together, the mess spilling onto the sheets as soon as he pulls out. 

He wipes you down with tissues and baby wipes you have handy on your bedside drawer. As soon as you’re both clean, he cradles you in his arms, spooning you from behind. 

“I know this is going to sound super cheesy, but I truly feel like a winner now,” he says, kissing the nape of your neck. 

You chuckle, squeezing his hand in yours. “Wait until you win March Madness. Then you’ll really be a champ.”

“Even if I lose, I’ll still have you. And that’s been my dream all this time.” 

You shift your body to face him, gazing into his eyes. “I thought your dream was to make it into the NBA?”

He smiles, booping you on the nose. “It’s part of the dream, sure. But I wouldn’t be anywhere near where I am now if it wasn’t for you. You kept me going all these years. Knowing you were always on my side gave me the strength I needed to get here. As long as I have you, I’ll be living the dream.” He kisses you on the forehead. “I’m going to love you for the rest of our lives.”

“Forever and ever?”

“Forever and ever.”

~~~

In an upset, your school loses in the Final Four. It’s the furthest they’ve gotten in university history, and a large part of that is due to Connie and his extraordinary performance as their point guard. His efforts do not go unnoticed; his coaches and many prospective agents have contacted him, encouraging him to apply for the NBA draft. 

June of the same year, Connie Springer is drafted tenth in the first round and you’re sitting right beside him with his parents, cheering for him. Just as you have throughout all these years, and just as you will for the rest of your lives. Forever and ever. 

[azu1as]

HI TINN ITS ME PITTY 🙇‍♀️🙇‍♀️

i was wondering if youre still open for prompts… and if u are can you write about pbss somehow tranported to current mount hua, and everyone is confused af and just watches pbss and divine dragon interact (and maybe argue) with each other

PITTY HELLO ♥✨♥✨♥ yes i'm always open to prompts !!! im literally rotating rotmhs in my head 24/7

this first half was actually born from another prompt by mei on discord but I want to build on it, so dumping it here 👍 HAHAHA

»—————————–✄

The Plum Blossom Sword Saint lets out a ragged breath, his vision rapidly fading. His sword falls from his hand and soon after his body follows.

"...Mount Hua..." he mumbles, aware that the only thing left that awaited him was the cold claim of death.

He dies. And in the next second, he blinks up to a clear sky, the dead bodies that surrounded him gone.

%%%

Dawn had barely broken when an incessant banging against Mount Hua's gates and shouting started and broke the tranquil silence, rousing several disciples.

"OPEN UP!" Someone barks out from the other side. "Fuck. Fuck. Shit. Open this gate right now!!"

Un Am frowns at the lack of manners and respect being shown by the source of the shouting. He reaches the gate and pulls it open. It takes Un Am a bit of effort to ensure that his voice sounded cordial, "Hello, we aren't accepting any visitors this ear—"

Un Am cuts himself off as he takes note of the state of the man in front of him. The man's robes and face were crusted with dried blood despite a lack of any visible injury. That is, if one ignore his lack of an arm.

It still didn't explain the amount of blood he had on his body that was free from any wounds and visible scars.

The man's eyes were bloodshot and trembling. Un Am, even from afar, could tell that there was something deeply wrong with this man. He seemed unconscious of the way he emanated a manic aura; there was a charged sort of energy surrounded him that made an instinctive part of Un Am grip his sword handle in response.

The most notable and unexplainable part of the man, however, was the blood-stained plum blossom embroidered on his chest.

"Who...?" Un Am finds himself unable to react to the man's speed and freezes in place as the man grabs him by the lapels of his robe. He pulls Un Am towards himself and grits out,

"What. Happened. To. My Sect."

%%%

Baek Cheon was quickly ushered into the Sect Leader's residence the moment he returned with a few others from their last excursion to Xi'an.

"What's going on?" He asks.

Elder Un Geom, for a lack of a better word, looked harried. His face twists into a grimace. "It's a bit complicated..."

Baek Cheon doesn't know how he should feel about that response.

Surely, it couldn't be too terrible. After all, their sect was still standing and they did leave Chung Myung behind to stay on Mount Hua as he and the other chosen second-class disciples only had to deliver some goods and tokens to their subsect. Their youngest wouldn't let anything dangerous happen on his watch.

Baek Cheon tries to probe more information. "Before you pulled me away, Baek Sang mentioned something about a guest...?"

"We aren't quite sure of the specifics either, I'm afraid. But the man claims to be one of our ancestors from over a hundred years ago."

"An ancestor? Was he able to verify the claims?"

Un Geom nods. "I've never seen someone weild our plum blossom technique with as much power as he did."

If that was the case, then maybe their supposed ancestor could help them develop and improve their sword techniques even further by teaching them more about the skills that have been lost through time.

"Isn't that a good thing then?"

"It should be, but Chung Myung..."

Ah. Hearing those last three trailing words did not promise anything good.

When they finally opened the door to the Sect Leader's residence, they were greeted to the sight of a soulless Hyun Jong slumped against the wall, a freaked-out Yoon Jong who seemed to be torn between jumping into the fray and throwing himself out the window, and—

"WHY ARE YOU TRYING TO BEAT UP OUR ANCESTOR, YOU BRAT?!"

Their ancestor and Chung Myung pause in their positions as they both turned eerily similar pink gazes towards the two new entrants.

Chung Myung had the end of their ancestor's ponytail pulled towards him and scrunched up in his fists. His knee pressed against the older man's chest and neck while his jaw was unhinged as he was clearly attempting to bite the man's single arm.

Their ancestor in turn had his one hand closed around half of Chung Myung's face, trying to push him away. His legs were wrapped around Chung Myung's lower half in an inescapable hold and he seemed to have been gearing up for a headbutt before Baek Cheon and Un Geom interrupted them.

"You want me to call this brat my ancestor?!" Chung Myung shouts out as he renewed his attempts to bite the man by roughly grabbing onto the base of his ponytail.

"I'm one hundred years older than you!" Their ancestor grits out as he unashamedly bites Chung Myung's arm. "You disrespectful descendant! Back in my time—"

"'Back in my time', my ass!"

"You...!"

Off to the side, their current sect leader lets out a pitiful moan of mental pain. Baek Cheon would comfort him if he didn't feel the same amount of psychic damage as he watches his youngest sajil and ancestor continue their childish scuffle, rolling on the floor and uncaringly biting into each other like they were both five-year olds.

Later on, after tempers have cooled and everyone (read: Chung Myung and their ancestor) had managed to settle down into a tenuous truce, Hyun Jong turns a tired, but respectful nod towards the bruised man, "May we know this ancestor's identity?"

"Hm?" Said man absently rubs against the embroidered plum blossom on his new uniform. "Ah, I supposed you would know me as the Plum Blossom Sword Saint."

They would have expressed their shock and surpise, but they get easily distracted by Chung Myung's mocking scoff as he rolls his eyes in response.

[avatarkv]

(My heart is,) squeeze it apart, it’s fine. 

✎ Synopsis ! The clan could sense Ao’nung’s brooding figure from a mile away, more hostile than ever. What more could he handle once he figures out you’re already spoken for?

Content & warning ¡ Ao'nung x Reader! They are both idiots in love. Second part to (Uh-oh! I think you're holding the heart of mine!)

“You have been out more recently,” The voice of your mother startled you, making you immediately stop dead on your tracks with a groan. You had not expected her to be home so early, especially that the day was just about to set. You sharply turned to her, shoulders tense, and tight-lipped. For a second, you felt younger– remembering the nights you stood the same after being caught red-handed for sneaking out and returning home late, but it was different this time and you know it. 

“Eywa had blessed me lavishly,” You presented her your woven satchel full of banana, yovo, and a handful of other fruits. There wasn’t much meat, however, but you’ve caught enough that could last for days. You let it sit outside to clean later on, “Father won’t have to hunt for a few weeks.” 

“Ao’nung had visited,” She eyed you knowingly, trying to put two and two together. “Again.” 

You rolled your eyes and dropped your satchel from your sore shoulder. You were desperately trying to avoid him and while you have been successful in doing so, you could never escape your prying mother. Weeks had passed since Ao’nung apologized back at your safe place and you haven’t looked back since. You fled– feeling the weight of his words burn like acid rapidly spiraling out your stomach instead of the relief you’ve been yearning all these years.

Let me grow old with you and I promise to be wiser.

The way your face grimaced after, retracting from his touch so hurriedly was another punch to the gut. 

Don’t go there, Ao’nung. You don’t know what you’re saying.

He said it so sincerely– so heart-wrenching that you would have given yourself right there and then, but you knew better than to quell his sorry conscience. You fled, leaving him with his bare heart in his hand with nothing but the whistling wind to accompany him. Only then did he realize how lonely it was to be there without you to fill in the spaces; how this sanctuary was just any other place without your presence. He left hours later.

The olo’eyktan’s son was still hopeful, despite the many blisters on his already red fingers and the sharp slaps from his sister– who knew weaving was this difficult? Tsireya was an unforgiving mentor, immediately scolding him for every wrong pattern and shaming him of his poor choice of color and beads. She was keen on helping him work on his apology; it would have been a big fat lie if she said he didn’t improve tremendously. (she’s pertaining to his development as a whole, not his weaving skills. he sucks ass, but he’s trying!)

He delivered the various handcrafted accessories himself as well as the tops and loincloths he made, hoping that you’d answer him personally– but he was always greeted by his mother and her sorry smile. She’s out hunting. I have not seen her since this morning. She left to train. Ao’nung would immediately slump his shoulders, bidding her goodbye with a frown gracing his features. 

“You tire the poor boy,” 

“And I am worn out myself, mother.” You argued.

“Then at least tell him,” She gave you a stern look, “If it’s not him, it’s Ts’ute.” The people were no stranger to gossip; their eyes could tell even the smallest of changes amongst the clan and they’re quick to spread it like wildfire, so it was no surprise either that you and the olo’eyktan’s son were the subject of everyone’s whispers. The usual shadow that trailed behind Ao’nung like a second tail was nowhere to be found anymore and he grew more hostile and impatient– it didn’t take long for everyone to take two and two together.

You weren’t just known for your obvious fondness towards Ao’nung– you were top of your class; strong-hearted and skillful, you’d be the talk amongst the men your age. The moment people got the memo, they were quick to advance– to knock on your door with their hearts to offer and your mother did not turn a blind eye to any of it, Ts’ute included. He was a fearless hunter himself and loved by many.

“Why must you determine my heart?” 

“Because you cannot speak of what it desires most. You’re holding yourself back and you know it very well.” 

You couldn’t think of any more reply because you knew damn well she was right, so you headed right for the exit. On your way out, you were face to face with an eager Ts’ute. His ears lifted in surprise and you fought back the groan that threatened to leave your mouth. You gave him a tight-lipped smile, slightly nodding to acknowledge his presence. “Ma __, I come bearing fruits from our hunt.” 

You walked past him, hands tightly gripping the satchel that bore a few fruits you wished to give Tsireya. “And have you forgotten I was a part of that very hunt, Ts’ute? I’ve brought enough for my family, share it with others instead.” 

He hurriedly ran beside you, “Then allow me to walk with you, please.”

You let him join you, eyes scanning the place for your friend while you walked. You could feel him stealing glances, admiring the way your forehead would slowly crease or how you bit your bottom lip when you were deep in thought. “You are meaner to yourself than he ever was, have you realized that? You still seek for him” Ts’ute suddenly said, head turning to look at him.

You sighed, already knowing where this conversation would lead. “It is not my intention. You cannot just undo years of me pining over him, it’s not easy to just– unlearn something you have terribly lived for all your life.” your head hung low in shame as you rambled. It was wrong for you to vent about another man to your suitor, but you couldn’t help but pour your frustrations out on him. 

“Believe me, I know.” He grabbed your wrist to stop you from walking any farther. His hand caressed your cheek and as much as you tried to appreciate the warmth of his calloused palm, it was foreign and distant. He wasn’t him and you resented the fact that you still did seek for him. You felt extremely guilty with the way he looked at you; still full of anticipation– of hope and you hate to be the one to crush it completely.  “Tell me you want this, __, or you’ll never hear from me ever again.”

You thought about it. You really did. Ts’ute was an absolute catch, the clan’s golden boy. You’d be happy with him and you know it, but the thought lingered on the back of your mind— Ao’nung. Oh great mother, even if he was nowhere to be seen, he was still able to become a pain in your ass. You appreciated Ts’ute, truly, but the olo’eyktan’s son was a different kind of stubborn that you couldn’t just shake off.

You loved him— adored him to no end and while you hated him for it, Eywa makes no mistakes. With a solemn sigh, you could only give him an apologetic look, borderline embarrassed. “I’m sorry, Ts’ute.” You took his hand that caressed your face, “You deserve a love that could reciprocate, but I believe I have been spoken for all my life.”

He retracted his hand from your hold, much to his dismay, and only nodded his head in defeat. “Tsireya is just near the shore. You should find her there.” 

He left you there completely unmoving. Unbeknownst to you, the same gaze lingered from a far, watching the scene unfold. Ao’nung’s grasp tightened around the necklace he had just finished and knew there and then that he was a lost man already and he was the only one to blame. He couldn’t bear how his heart sank, but he also couldn’t walk away, almost like it anchored his entirety down.

He left an hour later, necklace buried somewhere on the sand and his heart near it.

You had not heard of Ao’nung for weeks and it confused you terribly– no sight of him nor any news. It was like he vanished from your eyes, never to be seen again. The gifts stopped coming as well and although you never properly acknowledged it, you kept one of his hand-crafted bracelets around your wrist. It felt right to have something of his near. You hoped for another chance to rekindle inside, even just a tiny speck of light that could encourage you to keep holding onto the already seeping warmth of fondness– to tell you that turning Ts’ute down was a good thing and you had not just doomed your romance forever.

And right now, you felt ridiculed– on top of that, alone. You were back at your safe place after all the time you’ve neglected it, peacefully washing your hair and removing the braids and beads. You hummed while you got rid of all the little shells and situated them between the rocks, not noticing the approaching figure behind. 

“Congratulations,” You visibly flinched, immediately turning your head to the devil itself. Ao’nung sat on the edge, slightly swinging his feet on the water.

“Congratulations? What are you doing here– where have you been?” You couldn’t help the questions. This very man was gone only to reappear with a congratulations. You were out of your mind, even going as far as saying that his presence was only a hallucination from all the days you kept wishing for him.

“I have heard.” His vague responses were only drilling further your curiosity and it did not help the growing frustration that slowly spiraled from your stomach. 

“I do not know what you mean, Ao’nung.” 

“You’ve chosen,” his lips would close tightly and his shoulders would slump from every sharp short breath he took. It was an impulsive decision for him to march here, to finally have the guts to face you. He couldn’t run from it anymore– he had to face the consequences of his own stupidity. “And I wish you happiness, really. I really, really, really do,”

“Ao’nung–”

“I hope you get everything your heart has ever yearned for and I hope to never hear a thing about it,” His voice was shaky, words tumbling over one another. Ao’nung had lowered his body down the water to come near you and you moved not even one bit. You took in the raw emotions written all over his face; the desperation in his tone, his vulnerable stance– he came bare and absolutely miserable. “It’s selfish of me, __, truly selfish of me, but I will never be satisfied.” 

“Ao’nung, please let me talk.” 

“My title, everything– I would have let it be damned. I would have gladly stepped down to take your hand instead.”

You exhaled deeply and frustratedly reached up to cup his face, finally closing the gap between you and Ao’nung. For a moment, he was too stunned to respond, breath hitching and heart entirely warm to the core– the kiss spoke of all the things left unsaid. He held your nape to deepen the kiss and  it was like a dam had burst inside you. Your lips were soft and he was a starved man– you were everything he had terribly craved for and he wanted nothing more than to feel every inch of you against him. You could feel your heart pounding against his chest and you knew that his was racing just as quickly.

He was wrong– so wrong. To push you away, to embarrass you, everything. It didn’t matter if it took him forever to make it up to you, didn’t matter if he had to bleed out and show you his heart himself. He was an idiot, an idiot beyond grateful that you still took him in.

“I declined Ts’ute,” You said, breathless. 

“I think the kiss explained enough, alright.” He chuckled and you could only push him away in embarrassment, the confidence completely leaving your entirety the moment his cockiness returned. Ao’nung pulled you back in an embrace, his eyes never leaving yours and you swore the butterflies inside your stomach fluttered violently– he looked at you like you had hung the stars yourself, so delicate and full of love. “I see you, __. I mean it.” 

“You better.”

☆ mauve here! i know i said i was gonna include neteyam BUT MY HEART COULDNT CHOOSE BETWEEN THEM bec yk im running to neteyam in an instant. not edited nor proof read so feel free to point out any mistakes! i am extremely tired and it's quarter to 4 in the morning. idk if this felt rush augh

tags: @aonungsmate @dearstell (it felt appropriate to add you in the tag, but if it bothers you i will gladly put it down immediately !!)

[xxchaosjojoxx]

Just a little flirt - Penguin x Reader Part 2

A/N i was asked to write a second part so here it is. Thank you again for being nice on my first english fanfic ❤️ more love for our penguin boy Also i wanna try writing more and improve my english skills. So if you have any request or ideas, tell me if you want :3

You ran into your shared bedroom with Ikkaku and slammed the door behind you. Heavenly breathing because of your little escape sprint.

“The fuck are you doing?” Ikkaku asked.

“N-Nothing.” You said and you began to move towards the ground for you to sit.

“Will you avoid Penguin for the rest of your life? Just talk to him.”

“I can’t ok?” You sighed and hid your face in your hands.

Ikkaku stand up and hugged you. “Y/N come on. It was an awkward situation for both of you. You guys should talk about it. “

“He hates me.” You sniffed. “He doesn’t hate you. He adores you. Everytime he looks at you, he is so cheerful and happy. It is nearly disgusting how your presence can turn him into a  giggling idiot.”

You looked up at Ikkaku. “He doesn’t adore me. He was just teasing me. And now he knows that I am interested in him and he is disgusted by it. I feel like a stupid little girl with a stupid little crush”

“Are you delusional? Maybe he ran away because he saw that you are interested in him and he couldn’t proceed with it.”

“We can never be friends again. I ruined our dynamic.”

Ikkaku groaned and shaked my shoulders. “Listen girl. Stop it. He has a crush on you. He won’t ever hate you, or despise you or anything else. Just tell him that you have feelings for him. And also a little crush? Your crush on him is huge. Although I always thought you would go for our captain. You two seem pretty close sometimes”

“Wait what? I mean, yeah the captain is quite handsome and smart. I could be interested in him...” You looked shyly away. “But Penguin is the one who got my heart. He is so cute and attractive. Very funny and still he is like a gentleman sometimes and tries to protect me from any harm. How could I not be interested in him? How could I be interested in anyone else?” You started smiling like Ikkaku.

“Everyone knows of your crush on Penguin. Except him…and maybe Shachi. So go to him. Tell him. I am sure he feels the same way about you and doesn’t wanna ruin your friendship by making a move.”

Ikkaku stood up and helped me to get on my feet. With encouraging words I was on my way to Penguin.

Penguin fell on his bed and groaned. “What happened? I thought you wanted to go to y/n.”

Penguin groaned even more. "Yeah, I was."

Shachi puts his comic away and looked at Penguin. “Did she reject you?”

“Nah,  I didn’t get the chance. Before I could knock I heard her and Ikkaku talking.”

Penguin moved his head to look at Shachi, who would give him a ‘Tell me about it’ look.

“Y/N has a crush on Captain Law.”

Shachi jumped off of his bed. “She what? Y’sure?”

Penguin changed his position so he could sit on his bed while hugging his pillow. “She said that Captain is quite handsome and smart and she could be interested in him. I left.”

“He IS pretty attractive and smart.”

Penguin threw a pillow against Shachi. “Not helpful.”

“Come on, Pen. That doesn’t mean that y/n isn’t crushing on you.”

“Are you nuts?” Pen’s voice got louder. “I was a total idiot. I made her uncomfortable. I was planning to make her blush and see her cute little smile. And not her being afraid and probably disgusted by me and avoiding me whenever she can.”

Penguin groaned even more.

“I don’t think y/n is afraid or disgusted. Maybe it was too much for her to handle. Maybe she couldn’t comprehend your high flirting skill.”

Penguin looked defeated. He stood up and sighed heavenly.

“It doesn’t matter anymore. Even if we talk about it and work it out, she isn’t interested in me. I should let her go.”

“Pen..” Penguin opened the door. “I have night watch. See ya later.” And with that, he was gone.

The submarine was chilly and it was past midnight. You went looking for Penguin and Shachi informed you that he was on night watch tonight. You couldn’t wait any longer. You have to talk to him and embarrass yourself. Even if he didn’t accept your feelings for him, you want the two of you to stay friends at least. As you made your way towards Penguin you felt nervous.  There he was. Sitting on the ground, sighing and focusing.

You sat quietly beside him. ‘Great, he ignores me.’ You took a deep breath. With a tap on his shoulder and a quiet “Pen?” he nearly jumped away from me.

“Oh gosh y/n. Do you wanna kill me?”

“I’m sorry. I…ehh..maybe I should go.” You looked away and wanted to stand up.

“Wait please. I was just startled by it. My mind was blank.”

You both looked away.

“I am sorry.” You both said in union. As you looked at each other and said it at the same time, both of you had to laugh.

“Pen, I am sorry. If I had know that you would react like that, I wouldn’t even flirt back with you in the first place.”

Penguin stopped laughing and looked at you. His expression was sad.

“I shouldn’t have disturbed you like that. I am sorry.”

You sat there in silence. Unknown what to say. Can we just forget that this morning happened?” You asked nervously and Penguin felt hurt. ‘I knew she wasn’t interested in me at all’

“I should've never flirted with you to begin with. Sorry y/n.”

You felt a sting in your heart and you were about to cry.

“I didn’t mind it, you know? I just didn’t think that I grossed you out with me flirting back.”

Penguin looked at you, but your gaze was on the ground. Hiding from him

“I wasn’t grossed out. I just don’t understand why you flirt back if you have a crush on our captain.”

This was it. You looked up at him confused. “I don’t have a crush on Law. What are you talking about? I flirted back, because I thought that I can show you, that I mean it. But I now know that it was just a prank of you. I mean you tease me all the time. I interpret too much.”

You were blushing but couldn’t look away from Penguin. He was stunned. “You meant it? But what about Law? Are you toying with me right now?”

He wasn’t sure if it was a nightmare, a prank or whatever.

You took his hand in yours and he was looking at you with a blush on his face as well.

“I have no idea why you think I would be interested in Law.”

He gulped. Your hand was so warm and you looked pretty cute right now.

“I wanted to apologize. You talked with Ikkaku about Captain and I didn’t wanna interrupt you two.” Penguin looked away, while he scratched his neck with his free hand.

Realization hit you.

“You didn’t hear all of it?” You asked and he shrugged his shoulders.

With a deep breath to calm your nerves, you drew circles on his hand and he looked at you again.

“It’s true that I think highly of our captain. Yeah he is handsome, but he isn’t you.”

You blushed heavenly and  now cupped his face. He tried to hide his face with his hat even more. “Wh-What are you d-doing, y- y/n?”

“I’m telling you, that I have a huge crush on you. Captain Law is handsome and smart, but so are you. You are funny. I love your jokes. I adore you for so many things. You are brave and protective and-” You couldn’t talk anymore, because Penguin shut your mouth with his lips.

He was kissing you softly. After a few seconds, it was way too short, he was looking at you sheepishly. “Sorry for not being respectful. I know it’s not nice to interrupt someone who talks, but I couldn’t handle all those things you said to me.”

“Pen, are you embarrassed?”

Pen blushed even more. His red head was shining in this darkness.

“Of course I am embarrassed. How could I not?” Penguin looked at you and smiled. “You told me so many nice things to describe me, I have no idea why you said it.  And you also told me you have a crush on me.”

It was your turn to look away and hid your face behind your hands.

Penguin softly took your hands so he could face you again.

“I also have a huge crush on you. You are wonderful and cute. Your bright smile makes my day. This morning, I ran away because I thought you hated me. I wanted to kiss you so bad back there, but you looked so afraid and yet like you wanted it to happen. I was confused.”

You smiled a little. “It was like a novel I read. I love those actions in a story. But experiencing this in real life was exciting and intense. Especially if it happens with a very cute and handsome man.” I giggled and winked at him.

He hid his red face again under his hat and laughed as well. “Oh shut up you”

“Make me”

As soon as I spoke the words, I felt a pair of lips on mine again.

The kiss was like him. Sweet and gentle.

[loverofstufflof]

Airing out my LMK trailer/S5 thoughts cause u gotta do this somehow

Most glaring, animation. It’s not bad, by any means. I’d certainly be proud of myself if I were able to come up with it.

However, I think it’s important to consider the context of the show’s style, and how it’s been improving significantly over instalments. Also, it’s Flying Bark. Flying Bark is just gonna make banger animation.

Am I a bit disappointed when comparing it to Emperor’s Wrath? Yeah. Especially when we’ve been waiting a full year for this—twice as long as usual.

But I’m not saying I won’t be watching the show because of it. I still love this story. Fuck, my favourite series is Epithet Erased. The show that’s best described as JPEGs wiggling around your screen for 2 hours. I can handle less than expected animation if it’s made up for by good writing.

I’ve been seeing a lot of people attacking invisible fans that claim they’re going to boycott the show because of this. Respectfully, source? The most aggressive criticism I’ve seen is “man that’s disappointing ig, still excited tho”. Who are you guys even fighting lmao. (Unless this is something happening on other platforms and you’re just venting on here which, valid)

Nevertheless, as I’ve said before, it’s not bad animation, just not up to the standard we’re used to. People are allowed to be disappointed. Let them be. This show isn’t flawless.

It’s looking to be real, all things considered. We’ve never gotten a fan leak this elaborate before, and it contains a lot of elements that were just recently revealed. Unless they’ve been getting announcements much earlier than we have (considering this fanbase’s sleuth skills, I’d doubt it) then there’s no other explanation other than it being official.

Official, however, doesn’t mean it’s guaranteed to look that way the whole time. The animation is being done by another studio, yes, but only partially. Flying Bark is still here for the fun. This other studio also isn’t incompetent, they’re behind things like Carmen Sandiego. They know what they’re doing.

They’re also primarily handling additional material, means promotions, meaning trailers. Listen, it’s a bit of a stretch considering the fact that all trailers so far have been taken directly from the show, but also it’s industry standard to make a trailer before you’re even done, meaning you gotta cut some corners for the scenes you’re showing until you polish them up in post.

We know LEGO has a habit of keeping LMK things in their vault until they need to, this may be something they had lying around from early prod and released to maintain hype.

Any which way, this development is very much temporary, only applying because the team is currently working on a movie and need to momentarily lessen their workload. Even if the odds are against us and S5 looks like a PowerPoint presentation, it’ll likely go back to normal later.

Biiig animation rant aside, I am a tad bit sad about the direction the story is going in (namely the abandonment of Red Son) and the fan service is a bit much, but honestly what else are we expecting from JTTW fanfic.

I’m stoked to see more Macaque though—he’s looking to be becoming a proper protagonist, which is great for angst! Yippee!

One thing I haven’t seen anyone talk about is the complete lack of Nüwa. You know, the character they’ve been teasing this whole time? Where is she? Not in the trailer. Not in the posters.

Makes me wondering if this is a part of the new season, teasing the next one, the one Nüwa’s in, later.

[navyismycolor]

The Requirements of your Requirements

Something that I have learned in the past few years is that while it is important to have clarity about what traits we seek in our future spouses, that alone is not enough. We also have to mirror and reflect what such traits would seek in us. We have to meet the requirements of our requirements.

When I think about this, it gives me a definitive template for self improvement along the dimension of relationships. Personally, I seek someone who:

Loves me for who I am

that means firstly, I will need to have the courage to show who I am, including all those parts of me that are not shiny and impressive, I will have to practice being vulnerable, be willing to let go and lean on her knowing she has the strength to hold me up

and that in return, I shall love her for who she is, knowing that she wont be perfect, she wont tick every minute box that we all sub-consciously visualize in our love, and that is not only ok, it is precious, because in return she will bring gifts that I did not even imagine

Is monogamous and committed to long term

so I have to equally invest in single-minded commitment. I have to leave behind the thoughts of "oh what if" and "what about that". I have to give my 100% to this one person, and every day either find new ways to love her more, or reinforce the expressions of affection that work well for her

additionally, I have to be prepared for the long term, which specifically means growing my resilence to the fact that love will ebb and flow, and some days it will be hard to feel it while other days it will be so easy. I will have to fight for our shared future, overcome difficulties, wake up and choose her every day. I have to actively andeavour to grow together than grow apart.

Wants family and children

which means I have to be prepared to prioritize my family first. I have to know that sacrifices will have to be made because this is not going to be my life alone, but a shared future of all of us, and believe that is for the better.

plus, I have to be receptive to learning how to be a better father every day, give the best part of my time and energy to their upbringing and well being, and delight in their growth. I have to invest in ensuring they grow up to be both strong as well as sensitive humans who can give and receive love equally well.

Is emotionally and mentally stable

in turn, I have to constantly and proactively invest in my own emotional health. I have to identify and admit my own weaknesses and pains that I carry in me, and do my best to be able to handle them while allowing her to be part (but not responsible) for that journey

Is submissive in nature and wants to be led

that means I have to learn every day how to be a better leader, not just a dominant. i have to learn how to put her needs first so I can make decisions that are in her, or at least our combined best interest. I have to give her both the safety and the reassurance of knowing that she can rest easy by letting me lead in the relationship

Is traditional and wants to stay at home

that means I have to grow both the financial muscle as well as physical stamina to pull the family on my own at least in terms of external duties. I have to grow transferrable and employable skills and discipline with my lifestyle. And, I have to keep a level head in handling the chaos and pressures of daily businesse that will pile up on the family and always stay on top of my responsibilities.

I do not know if I will ever meet the woman I wish to find and share my life with. But if I ever do, I want to be ready. Such opportunities will only come rarely in life, and I cannot let them go to waste because I lazed around saying I will start when the situation arrives.

I have come a long way in many of these, but self improvement is a life long journey, and every new milstone and bend in the road reveals new challenges and opportunities that may not have been discovered before. It can be overwhelming at times, but like I felt way back in grad school, discovering diverse and difficult challenges also means that you have come far enough to appreciate the importance of preparing yourself to face those difficulties.

Let us keep growing brothers, not only for ourselves, but for the future we envision and want to be a part of.

[talenlee]

Dissed Content

I produce media across about five major forms and three major platforms. You will find me posting regularly on Reddit, Youtube, Cohost, Mastodon at the Kind.Social instance. You can also find my games on itch.io and invincible ink, my shirts and stickers on redbubble, my behind-the-scenes development notes on patreon, and multiple podcasts I both perform on and edited and uploaded and maintained myself.

Over on Youtube, I make video essays, I translate my articles on games into a audiovisual format, and I do a lets play series with a cohost that involves playing the games and talking through the process of playing them together, while putting what we’re doing in context across the history of playing games.

Simply put, I do a lot of things.

Sometime this year, near the start, I resolved to stop calling it ‘content.’

Content is a term that evolved in our online spaces to refer to anything that you could do to fill the time that wasn’t explicitly not there to be enjoyed. The term is a marketing language term, where the ‘content’ was used to deliver ‘the product,’ which is to say, people would watch TV shows and when they were doing that, you could show them ads. Content is a term that has become part of common usage to refer to internet material that covers a host of broadcast platforms, even the ones that are meaningfully different and require different sets of integrated skills.

There’s this guy, Jim Davis, who serves up videos about Magic: The Gathering Arena. In that, he streams on Twitch, live, and interacts with his chat, engages live, and brings to bear his considerable expertise on how to play the game and improve at playing the game. Then, he takes those videos, and splits them up into smaller videos that he shares on Youtube, with a set of live editing behaviours. He sculpts how he performs so that it can be translated across the forms, and in the process, he’s doing two things at once.

It’s a really impressive skill!

Then some of those videos get cut up and made into shorts, and served on tiktok as well, because part of the point of being an online media maker in his specific form is you have to be everywhere and all forms of production are designed to sequence you back to the central base. I think this is really impressive and I like what he does, but I also know it involves a small team of people to do the different things that are part of capitalising on the skill he has that he wants to show people (how to play the game better and ways the game can be more interesting). There are editors and moderators and just people doing work that let him do this, and all of it and all of their work is quietly elided under ‘content.’

I think about this a lot every time I slip up and say aloud, the word ‘content’ to describe what I do.

Reason Three: Everything I Do Requires Different Skills

I am a video editor, sound engineer, script writer, improv performer, researcher, essayist, educator, mentor, game developer, games academic and low-key comedian. These are all distinct skills that it takes a lot to be very good at, and I think it’s important to underscore that I am not very good at all of them. But each of these skills is a thing I can develop individually, and each of them produces different rewards. Yes, they can all be referred to as ‘content creator,’ which puts a better handle on what I do, it’s not a cumbersome term, but the term serves to put what I do on the same level as what, say, Harris Bomberguy does, and also what James Somerton does – people who put wildly different types of effort into what they’re doing. When all three of us are put into the same space as broadly as that, the effect is to treat it as if all these skills are unified in their application and purpose and hide all the things that people do and have to do.

In my Jim Davis example, something he is incredible at is explaining a thought process aloud for playing a very challenging game, and he does it to a live twitch chat and to a community who aren’t there who can’t absorb the references from that twitch chat. That is a specialised skill, to both make a lesson immediate and particular while also ensuring that it is broad and communicable.

Some of my vidoes are off-the-cuff recordings of me where I process my feelings about the games I’ve played in my mind onto the record with very little editing. Some of it is highly scripted. These are two different skills, and the kinds of things they make are meant to serve different aims.

Reason Two: Content Flattens Meaning

If you treat all media that people make as ‘content’ you lose the ways those things are different. Reading my articles aloud makes it clear to me how much my rhetorical delivery plays into how the reading feels. My Carrion article and my Carrion video are not meant to be experienced the same way, and my reading of the video is not the normal way I read my articles. You can tell, because I did it differently.

Podcasts have a conversational, whimsical air. There’s shifting moods and diversity of position – I can have my mind changed live, or be shown I’ve made a mistake and step through that. Scripted articles are meant to be rigorous and clearly defined at the start of the presentation, which is all they are. Video essays are in many cases extremely slowly delivered powerpoint presentations after all.

And a powerpoint presentation has a different skill demand to it too! Which is just a preamble to the biggest reason I am trying to stop call my stuff ‘content’ and why I think you probably should to, if you can help it:

Reason One: I Don’t Show You Fucking Ads

All the stuff I put on the internet is, as far as I can tell, provided ad-free. My Youtube Channel is not monetised and should not show you advertisements. My itch games do not include ads, except for showing you my other games you might not know about. The media I serve to the internet is, by definition not ‘content’ because there is no product for it to deliver. What I am putting on the internet, with my own effort and blessedly paid for by my Patreon subscribers who are just paying as thanks for the stuff existing, is by the original usage ‘not content.’

When your work is content you are buying into the model of the advertiser. Even if you use advertisements like a twitch ad-shower, when you call your work content, you are doing it with a willingness to tell the advertisers that they get to define what your work is, and it is not focused on who you are.

This isn’t advice that I expect anyone to follow.

Check it out on PRESS.exe to see it with images and links!

[scary-monsters]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

Tagged by @crown-of-winterthorne, thank you friend!!! 🧡🧡🫶🏻

1. How many works do you have on Ao3? 33 total! i've got 8 for jjba, 25 for haikyuu

2. What’s your total Ao3 word count? 473,497 🤯🤯🤯

3. What fandoms do you write for? currently only jjba, i don't anticipate anything else for a long time since my major interests tend to last for years

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos? unsurprisingly they're all ushiten 😭 i won't link them but: "i'm a house with no windows" (200k friends-to-lovers), "shuffle" (fake dating/only one bed tropes), "fascinating facts about geckos" (high school teachers au), "on display" (nsfw oneshot), and "morning routine" (my very first fic ever posted :')) aw)

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not? i try to!!!! sometimes i get really behind (like i am right now ugh) and that's either because i'm busy or i can't properly put my gratitude into words 😔 but i think i get to most of them eventually. i don't really reply to the ushiten ones anymore, but they still mean a lot to me.

6. What is a fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? i.. don't think i have any?? i love writing angst but i really cannot handle sad endings.. i'm a sappy little romance-obsessed fool, i fear i'm incapable of anything but sweet and fulfilling endings

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? i mean it's gotta be "i'm a house with no windows".... they literally grew up together and got married and then visited their hometown as middle-aged men.. i don't know if i can out-do that. but if we're talking jjba then probably my most recent diego fic, "ritz to the rubble"

8. Do you get hate on fics? i have before LMAO, nothing too horrible but honestly i just shrug it off. i like my writing and i know lots of other people do too so i can't be bothered

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind? ummmmmm yes.. i write a lot of it HFDSKLHGKLS.. i won't detail that here bc this isn't a nsfw blog but my ao3 speaks for itself.

10. Do you write crossovers? nope! the idea hasn't ever even crossed my mind

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? i feel like.. i remember someone telling me that one of my ushiten fics was on wattpad at one point but i never saw it myself and that was years ago so ??? MAYBE?? i truly don't know

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? i couldn't find evidence of it but i remember someone requesting to translate a fic of mine to chinese?? and i had no problem with it but AGAIN LOL these things happened in like 2016 or 2017 so it's been a hot minute and my memory is garbage

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? not really, i attempted to collab with a couple friends in the past but it really didn't work out very well.

14. What’s your all-time favorite ship? diego and me (im kidding. kind of.), i mean currently it's dinopants and dinoballs. i love diejoni as well but the other two reeeeaaally hit that sweet spot for me. i like ushiten in a way that's like... aww.. those were my boys and now they're grown up and moved out ?? they are cute but they aren't My Guys anymore

15. What’s a wip you want to finish, but doubt you ever will? UGH I HAD a dinopants university au that i started over a year ago but i ended up using one of the previously written scenes for my recent fic so i doubt i'd ever finish the original one. for the most part i finish what i start, though.

16. What are your writing strengths? DIALOGUE !!! at least to me, anyway. i think i'm really good at getting into a character's head and analyzing them and how they'd handle social situations, which is funny bc i have trash social skills. i fucking love character analysis in general

17. What are your writing weaknesses? i think i tend to overuse words sometimes... maybe lean too heavily into dialogue.. i'm always always always trying to get better, so in a way i think i look at everything as a weakness that i'm constantly working to improve

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic? i've tossed in little fragments of Italian when i write gyro but other than that i don't think i'd personally do it.

19. First fandom you wrote for? realistically? naruto 💀 my original old-ass clunky desktop had several word docs of deidara fic, i'm like 99% sure. too bad limewire and heaps of viruses killed the damn thing

20. Favorite fic you’ve written? atm i think it's gotta be extra hot, well stirred, light foam :')) i was so iffy about it while writing but i think it's such a perfect balance of funny and sexy and i'm quite proud of it. it would make sense to say a fic from a while ago but i don't like my writing from back then.. i just think i've gotten so so so much better

IM TAGGINGGG @reclusiverisottonero @swallowed-teeth @hammerofspace @penny-lane-123 @phvntom-limbs but no pressure, lovingly patting y'all on the head regardless 🧡

[thewritingcoroner]

Nothing frustrates me more than US election season "leftist v liberal" arguments. Congrats you have missed the point so entirely just to make yourself feel good! I'm just gonna put this under a read more because I don't want to clog my followers dash with my rant

Literally liberals will be like "vote blue no matter who!" And ignore all the opportunities they had to improve the Democratic party and create a party they can stand behind

And leftists will spend more time shitting on liberals and talking about the "real good" They're doing at any chance they get even when faced with genuinely tough theoretical questions than they will actually doing all the things they say they do.

Saw someone wax poetic about all the local work they're doing as like a counter to the argument "what alternative to voting blue do we have" as if that actually answers the question???

Like admit all the reading up on history and theory you're doing is literally useless without telling me you're lying out of your ass about reading theory.

And the using of the Palestinian genocide to make your argument makes me sick, like any modern US election can EVER be a single issue. I saw someone say it genuinely doesn't matter who is in the White House for Palestinians and 1. That's not true at all, and 2. Voting is not a virtue signal, it's a chess move.

Like say it was true that it doesn't matter who the president is (it's not) but let's say it it is. Then you are casting your vote (or not) over ONE issue. I care about Palestinians, absolutely, and I'm obviously not happy with Bidens handling of the genocide, nor do I really want him reelected. But realistically, the alternative choice is the GOP nominee, who is TRUMP.

So if I vote for Trump, or vote green and the green party is not (nor will it ever be) elected, then I am also voting for a guy who fully intends to implement policies designed to kill palestinians. And my brother, for example. Or kill me, for that matter. That vote will go to Trump, who has stated in no uncertain terms that he admires and agrees with Putin and actively supports and wants to strengthen Netanyahu.

So in this thought exercise, assuming that the president doesn't matter to the genocide in Palestine, which I can't even agree to, then voting along the "moral" (read "holy") choice would actively harm other marginalized people. How is that moral again???

Because if you care about Trans kids in Texas, the president matters. if you care about health coverage by your employer for certain life threatening health emergencies, the president matters. if you care about poor kids in city districts getting at least one meal a day at school, the president matters.

Voting is not a moral choice, it is a strategic one. And single issue voting is not a system we can survive on. If we want real radical change, we know we can't rely on voting anymore (could we ever?) But the alternative to voting blue people are asking for DOES NOT EXIST.

If you don't like the democratic nominee, you can't do much about that UNLESS you vote. You don't like who's running? Then YOU run. Believe it or not, you can! You SHOULD actually! We need more common people running for small offices and judgeships.

You don't want to vote for the republican? Well you have two voting options, the third party (which, to my leftists claiming to read history and political theory, you KNOW it's not a viable option for change, we have ample studies and analysis of previous elections to look at) and the the democratic party. And the third option is to abstain from voting.

If you don't vote, pat yourself on the back! You have remained ideologically pure, and should be canonized for your hard, holy work. After all, it takes a lot to do less than the bare minimum, and it's especially hard to be able to say that you lack the skills and adult understanding of the world to make hard decisions between two bad options. You have found the secret answer to choosing between the love for your own kids and the love for your neighbors, something no one has ever had to choose between except for you. But it's a good thing this tough choice fell on your shoulders because, like the Saint you are, you managed to make the only correct (holy) decision. By staying silent you have made it clear that you will never stand aside in the face of adversity. There is no issue in this world that can stop you from doing what is Right (holy) and simply not do the most basic easy thing to push the world towards positive change.

Kiss my ass

[the-darkness-does-not-bargain]

15, 45, 49

Sorry for the delay 🙂

15 answered here!

45. What's something you've improved on since you started writing fic? Oh, pretty much everything, but dialogue in particular. That's as much an effect of growing up as it is practicing the craft, but I can tangibly see how much more refined my skills have become, and it makes me really happy!

49. What am I currently working on? Share a few lines. I'm working on dragon age au and a surprise one-shot. No spoilers on that second one, so here's a bit from the first 🙂

"I've always found that exercise has a way of lifting the spirit, at least once it's done," Beatrice tells you.  "It's hard now, but it will get easier.  In time, you'll be faster and stronger than you can even imagine."

"Did that happen for you?"

She nods.  "I was never idle in the Circle, but although we studied combat magic, we weren’t really trained to be warriors.  When I joined the Inquisition and learned to fight seriously, I also struggled to keep up with the regiment of the other soldiers.  It was difficult, but every day I did what I could, pushing my limits until they eventually gave way."

Your mouth twists around a bitter seed of self-doubt.  "Yeah, I don't know that I'm going to get to your level any time soon, if ever.  These things," you indicate your legs by kicking at the snow.  "They've been useless for 12 years, and if I didn't have Hope, they still would be.  I'm more than behind the curve, I'm starting leagues back from everyone else."

"You mustn't think of it that way," she tells you firmly, stopping in her tracks to face you and put a hand on your shoulder.  "You may be starting with a disadvantage, but that doesn't mean you're incapable.  If anything, it makes your progress all the more meaningful."

You look away, unable to handle the intensity of her gaze.  "If you say so…"

"I do say so.  Don't forget the strides you've made already, Ava.  You're right on the cusp.  You just need to keep going."

You finally look back and meet her eyes, losing whatever you were about to say in the face of her sincerity.  Her confidence in you.  You stand in the slush, gazing at each other silently, and that well of yearning in your chest attains a new weight.

[ofthepuzzle]

1, 9?

Interesting Questions for MUNS: ╰┈➤@keithhoward

1. Would you say that ever since you started writing for your muse you have become more similar to your muse? In what ways?

This brings me back when I first started musing Atem. Back in 2012 when I was sixteen and around the first time I discovered rp. I may have rped him for a while until I took a break to focus on my studies. And eventually, in late 2020 after the PS5 was released— after the numerous times I came across the Kaiba PS5 memes I became nostalgic about ygo. Wild. A funny meme can do that. And I started musing Atem again. I made an rp account for him in another site until I moved to Tumblr in March 2021. And since then I haven’t abandoned my muse. He’s the only muse ever that I have been role playing without breaks. My interests used to fluctuate but now regardless of what new series I get into ygo will always remain in my head and my muse will remain as strong.

And now, onto the actual answer to the question. Hmm, I don’t want to say oh yes ofc because again— Atem is beyond amazing and I am just— me. Then again he can be relatable. After all, sometimes we pick muses that we can relate to or have similar traits to ours. He’s the perfect balance of social and reserved. Can be completely chill until his smug side manifests, or becomes emotional depending on the situation. And the way he handles it— he oftentimes has doubts and overanalyzes but even when he’s alone he knows his worth and what his mission and priorities are. I appreciate it, I can feel close to it. I even use that as a motivator when I’m feeling down, so I become sure of what I am and what I do. Another thing, I apparently often play characters who have strong familial relations with their parents. The main factor is that the parents taught them to love and protect what’s important to them. The same way Atem's and my parents do. Another, Atem as a dark and eventually light character. I often perceive this as when my former self was empty, disorientated, still searching for what my lifetime goal is. Until I found it, ground myself, improve my skills, and become a better person overall. Atem is as selfless as he’s confident and I think that’s a commendable trait that I want to follow. You can be confident but be humble too. Confidence stems from your achievements and how you are as a person. Do good, be good to others. You have no time for unnecessary theatrical work. Focus on what matters. That’s what Atem has taught me. Also, the way I write how he talks sometimes I type like that I suppose. It’s nice when a character rubs off on you in a positive way.

9. Has your muse taught you anything about yourself and/or the world?

I didn’t realize how similar this question is to the one above. Technically the first part about what Atem taught me was written in my previous reply. But I can also add that he taught me not to think that if I’ve hit a wall it’s the end of the world. There is a way out. Whether it’s now or later, it will come. And everything will be alright. To believe in your strengths. And he taught me the world is filled with good and bad. But that is not under your control, so don’t worry about it. What is under your control is what you will do to contribute to it. What trace you will leave behind yourself when you leave this world. Good always beats evil. It’s never too late to redeem yourself as well. Yami has done shadow games but was taught that violence isn’t the answer. And that’s right. He eventually is shaped into a better person with a better moral perspective. That goes for the rest of the characters as well. Overall— virtue is the root.

[misscammiedawn]

15, 20, 26

I'd say 16 but I know the answer to that one :P

Answers for this ask meme

15: Do you prefer to be behind the camera or in front of it?

As well you know, lass, when I am in a mood(tm) I find myself treating the camera's eye as a spotlight and when I am caged by a spotlight I am forced to perform. A Fae curse that I carry with pride, though it can be quite the burden. Alas I have never modeled for a professional before. That is something I do so desire, the ability to witness my beauty through the eyes of one who is capable of coaxing it from any subject. Behind the lens, though, it matters not which mood I am in. It was my first and purest artistic passion. Though I am an event photographer, not a portrait photographer. I do consider myself mildly talented, however. Here is a gathering of some of my portfolio:

20: What is your greatest weakness; your greatest strength?

My greatest weakness is a lack of stable foundation in all things that pairs with a lack of commitment. I'm terrifyingly apathetic about many things and often find myself performing passion as a means of connecting with other people. Witnessing how many things I simply dropped out of my life when people who used to mean the world to me stopped being in my life is haunting. I fear I need both incentive and external validation in order to strive. Tabletop Roleplay, Music theory and composition, audio editing, Flash animation, Python programming, movie analysis, cosplay construction, bead work, tailoring, model making and video editing are all skills I no longer possess because I turned my back on everything that made them up when the relationships that drew them out of me died. I imagine much of my managerial prowess left when I stopped running movie theatres, too. My greatest strength is likely my adaptiveness and resilience. I find myself to be quite adept at picking up new habits and falling in to new concepts and ideals. It makes me remarkably good when it comes to hypnosis on every side of a dynamic. As long as I remain on top of myself and maintain personal responsibility, it is the greatest boon to me and I do tend to remain keyed in when I have the power to be as such.

26: Are you happy with the person you’ve become?

A difficult question. I am satisfied with who I am today. I am comfortable and with that comfort I am stabilizing. There is much work yet to be done with my mental health struggles, of which I am still within the first of a many-year process to master, and my transition, which I am in my final year of actively working on before inertia and medication management will handle the rest. Truth is, there is a facet of me stuck in the past who thinks we have regressed since the days we owned a house, run a business, mentored people and had a marriage and a place within a small little art studio. There is also an insatiable yearning within me that claims we need to do and be more. Make more hypnosis content, teach more classes, be more active and well regarded within the community. To be caught between the winds of change means we'll never feel truly happy with ourselves, but we can appreciate we're improving. Day by day. That means something. I used to celebrate only thinking of self-harm once or twice a week. We're getting to once or twice a month now. That has to mean something.

and of course...

16: Simple but extremely complex. Favorite band?

These fine gentlemen and a dearly missed poet with a drumkit of whom I miss dearly...

[moodyblue2014]

A Note on Cognition

It's 4 pm and I'm back home. It's been two days since I returned. I generally feel uplifted at the thought of travelling back after spending time away, and especially so after ending this horrid internship. To be perfectly honest, however, I didn't end it - I didn't have the willpower or assertiveness to do anything of the sort. But I did wish to, and both my own views and those of my supervisor's soon aligned after my performance review.

The circumstances of my internship only got worse - I was performing poorly compared to the other interns as I had zero practical experience in the clinical setting of an equine hospital. I was expected to handle foals on my own. I had never laid eyes on a foal in my life. My fellow interns talked behind my back - along with the nurses that supervised me. I was expected to do what a nurse would do. My university rotations didn't equip me well enough to perform in this way. I should have went to TAFE.

But did I have to feel bad about my evaluation and fundamental inaptness as an equine intern? After learning that I was basically cheap labour - no, I did not. In most cases, people can alter the way they feel about a situation. That is the gift of cognition.

I had learned to justify and accept my poor performance based on my lack of experience. Plus - I found a mentor in some of the senior vets who advised me to ease up on myself. The only way I could change my situation was to be as involved in the workings of the hospital as I could possibly be. But would weathering the difficulties of such a learning curve prove helpful in this context? After all, this hospital was a business - and according to several rumours, the clinic was bleeding money. A major part of our cognition is adaptive functioning - problem-solving in order to devise alternatives, to make a choice and evaluate an outcome.

So, despite gradually building the resilience to be able to cope with the hospital's caseload (I found myself immersing seamlessly into the busy rhythm of administering treatments and presenting each case after waking at 6 am) I found myself left with 4-6 weeks to improve my performance or risk termination of my internship. I sought guidance and support from the intern coordinator but how much could they do realistically? Besides, the fundamental yet unspoken quality of an intern is their resilience, their stiff-lipped acceptance of mountains of work, of seemingly insurmountable tasks and their lighting-quick ability to prioritise goals and manage their time. All skills which I was particularly weak at.

In the span of the forthcoming month or so I had to improve significantly. And, although I did - by the time I was called abruptly for a meeting with the coordinator and practice manager, I had already accepted my fate. Through a logical analysis of the situation I knew I wouldn't be able to meet the benchmark. I knew I had bitten off more than I could chew. But I had a million other doors to open. I left my two and a half month internship behind in Newcastle, but found myself exercising my cognitive abilities in the most resilient of ways. Something so natural as an adult, yet so difficult and painstaking to develop when you aren't quite fully one.

I missed a lot of marks during my tenure as an intern and made countless oversights and mistakes - but I landed every stepping stone in reappraising my surroundings, my limits and the immediate possibilities that can spring forth from them. And most importantly - I learned what my next step was.

And I knew, for once, it was acceptable to not know what to do in four or five years, but to know intimately what to do tomorrow.

[tnlbarth-blog]

Aug 4 2023 - 6:16pm

Warning: All people places and things resembling any real people places or things are merely coincidence and are not to be taken as such.

One of the hardest parts of trying to improve myself is figuring out my emotions and how to handle myself while they are dysregulating my body. This has been one of the things I have had a hard time with since I was a child even before trying to better myself.

I have gotten better in these past few years but I still struggle. I have a hard time specifically with anger and agitation. When I get angered I have a hard time staying calm. I don't get angry very often anymore now that I am able to get myself to walk away from angering situations and ignore people trying to purposely upset me. But once I get to a point where that stuff isn't working I let people know exactly how I am feeling.

I don't shout and throw things or hit people. That was stuff a much younger version of me did. I also found out that those things were a part of melt downs I was having and since I learned that I have been able to learn how to avoid that. I haven't hurt a person in a long time. I have developed great coping skills that help regulate my mind and body to help in those situations.

Unfortunately those skills don't seem to have any effect on me after I have lost my temper. I have found it beneficial to either leave to calm down or not talk to the person I have been angered by.

Recently, in the past month or so I have been able to interrupt my emotions from getting too bad by verbally telling people what they are doing is upsetting me. I usually am able to communicate before I lose my temper and get angry at them. Unfortunately these people I am surrounded by, my family, don't seem to think what they are doing is bad enough to warrant me getting mad.

Most of the time I do my best to ignore what they are doing due to the fact that they usually do or say things that are very triggering to my CPTSD, Complex Posttraumatic Stress Disorder. Or they are just blatantly abusing me, like mocking me when I do express my feelings. My mother did that this morning.

I told her that I didn't appreciate her pushing my boundaries yet again

She made a high-pitched whiny voice saying "ee ee ie eh eh!" While she waved her hands in the air and rocked her head from side to side.

She does this often and it's very upsetting for the person she is doing it to. Today I told her as much.

She told me she was "trying to lighten the mood"

It's very frustrating trying to communicate with her when she doesn't respect me or my voice. My mother is very emotionally immature. And in general very immature.

Today she pulled his behavior with me knowing she would get a reaction. I am sick which is making my ability to handle and/or tolerate unfair treatment and bullying basically zero. I am unable to regulate my emotions let alone think straight. And again the whole time she was doing it she was smiling.

My mood has been in the trash since last night. I have been sick and I am the only one in the family that takes care of the pets which doesn't help. I got up late today and was behind on taking care of my cat. I have to take care of the pets while sick every time I get sick (even when i had covid) and that preemptively makes me angry. It would be so bad if it was only my cat but I have to take care of my brother's dog and my mom's outside cat too.

All I wanted was some real honeycomb from a local farm and I asked my brother to bring me to get some. My whole family knows I can't have the crap that calls itself honey from a retail store it makes me ill. But my mom, knowing this, asks me if I want the store bought stuff instead. And from the outside it doesn't look all that bad until you find out I have told my mom over and over again for literal YEARS that fake honey makes me sick. She while doing this has that spiteful vindictive smile on her face knowing what she said would upset me especially since I literally just told her yesterday that store bought honey makes me ill.

My whole day I have had an attitude and my mom could sense it. She exploited it and it worked. No matter how good I am at controlling my emotions I get she will always find a weak spot.

Regards

TNL Barth